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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 years

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oh lmfao edited to add. the thirty tags are maxed out but i have to work in the wordplay of: call this post-it notes

speaking of [happening to think about, then for a separate reason talk about, the film “stand by me,” an adaptation of the stephen king short story “the body”] last night, & tumblr ads reminding me, i did turn around after listening to the podcast ep extensive, research enhanced analysis / discussion of specifically the book like hey yeah yknow what. i’ll watch the It films; not the miniseries / the one with tim curry, which i saw the first half of but wasn’t really inspired to commit to the latter half. and you Know like yeah i’m truly interested in the choice to build on [stephen king kicking his legs like “whaaat are some Problems kids could have.....um being a girl.....being jewish.....having a stutter.....”] with “what if someone was gay or some shit” like yeah right on, which idk that steve ever wrote into any vaguely primary characters even though it’s markedly made textually relevant. and the cultural alignment for kleinsen enjoyers is still very funny. i forgot about even the arm cast business till halfway through. even the [break it again] joke kind of manifested lmao

anyways the point is i’m like, my two primary modes of [this experience] being expressed via [mad men meme In The Cinema seriously considering the material] and [the shot of that guy in the alternate titanic ending where he’s like ahahahaha throwing his head back and the camera is overhead zooming out a little bit] and the like Oh Hey. This Is All Coming Together? kind of [that madman cinema meme] moment hit in The Second Part because it’s like, it’s Remarkable for a stephen king story to have Adults Who Are Friends. which is where it can be cross referenced with Stand By Me, which is about kids who are friends, but Framed by like, this story is written in the future by the main kid, who wanted to be a writer & now is, mostly about his friendship with this one other kid who was like “hey man you can & should be a writer. believe” and that classic [stephen king High Concept stories] central plot impetus / definition which is “the one where some kids go on a trek to find/see a dead body” and then ending with Adult Main Kid with that classic / standout remark “i never had any friends like the ones i had when i was twelve. god, does anyone?” which is included even in the film via seeing him type it out on bulkier ye old computer terminals while his kid is now twelvish i guess and talking to a friend. after also musing on like, yeah that bestie who hyped me up the most and who i saved in turn, with a gun, tragically died. iunno where those other two kids in the group are, living kind of underwhelming lives out there probably but whatever. lmfao like man i dunno write them a letter, call them, you could do a little digging here and get in touch. but yeah it’s not gonna be Exactly The Same as when you were kids, nor exactly the same as it was when things aligned to have a brief but dramatic adventure, nor when you Could just all spontaneously decide you wanna go walking & camping to find a body & then just up & do that. but like, you can consciously make & maintain friendships i prommy my man lol. like “it’s great when things align so you Happen to have these friends when you’re twelve and you all like offer each other emotional support and can understand each other like nobody else can. but then you Will all just drift apart” like, i mean, will you. you can have friendships beyond what you just Happen to have / hope that the magic alignments will just continue falling into place for you so that those friendships still exist

and probably part of it is that it’s really mostly About the two kids who are friends even though there’s four of them, i.e. the protagonist & the moral support bestie, as well as the fact that this is a short story so there’s presumably only so much time to focus on characters at all really or delve into any setup and bg lore and whatever all else, i dunno. but thinking how it’s like, oh hey, in It it’s kind of its own serendipitous alignment of elements there to be like, here’s a group of adults where it’s peak relevant that they’re friends, for once. because afaik that really just doesn’t happen in sking stories, like, yeah adults kind of have friends but it’s Not Very Deep / it’s just kind of convenience about working together moving plots along & it’s like yeah uh i don’t fucking know i guess we see each other / hang out for dinners or post dinner drinks together or join forces about whatever fucked up shit and just talk about that, mostly....and probably people are just dropping off like flies eventually, the protagonist man of that [sooo many protags who are just some fuckin middle aged guy who’s a writer] type, and it’s also in part just because like, characters don’t really matter that much / have to be particularly distinct / Are Disposable when plenty of the point is to go “was that fucked up or what?” about whatever’s happening, so yknow you go “there was once just some fuckin guy, i dunno, he probably has a wife he’s paternalistically protective of but maybe also resents and maybe a kid or two or something, whatever....” like, being the main character doesn’t really matter, it’s just this avatar through which we are told a story of some fucked up shit and to whomst any fucked up shit can even happen, being other characters also really doesn’t matter

so it’s like huh, stand by me / the body as obviously this Ode To Twelve Year Olds’ Friendship And How Your Emotional Support Of Each Other Defines The Entire Path Of Your Life Though Mostly For The Main Character, Everyone Else Fucked Off Or Whatever like right yeah, but with that difference of how like clearly as an adult this isn’t gonna be about this guy going like “hey yeah where are those still living scamps today,” he’s reminiscing only, he’s talking about how he now doesn’t have any friends like the ones he had when he was twelve....then what changes in It is like, hmm how are these adults where the fact they’re friends actually is peak relevant? how does one remain friends with even Any childhood friends there huh. and then the fact it works out like that is like aha, well it’s because they don’t lmfao. that everyone happens to scatter to the winds at some point when it maybe will eventually rear its head amongst even their own adult guardians like hey, yknow, maybe let’s not live in murderville. or coincidence. whatever. where the point is that like oh also, everyone just magically forgets the goings on as kids including the existence of their friends, but is about to be reminded of them / remember all that, for a specific external reason rather than [adults are like hey let me try getting in touch with that mf] and already plot and magic is relevant to all of this. they’re not going to have gotten together for the shittiest high school reunion if not for the connection of Friendship, this is about adults but it’s about that childhood plotline still, so Twelve Year Olds’ Friendships still stands / is relevant, so we can even fathom these adults having a connection, b/c yes they Didn’t have it as they got older there, but now they’re jumping back into it actually, b/c magic, and because also this is Directly About (Childhood) Trauma which was also like, hey damn, even outside the stephen king oeuvre & its tendencies (solid & wretched), this is also transcending grievances i so often have with Horror, as someone who likes horror and doesn’t like horror but likes horror but doesn’t like it, and just like. questionable employment of [you Are bothering to focus on Character, and their emotional arcs being entirely relevant to the story here] when sometimes it’s like, do you need a story? the strength of horror shorts to just go “was that fucked up or what.” do you need the characters with the emotional arc relevance at all, or is it just a little avatar walking around with enough vague motivation to have / see / make fucked up shit happen? are they particularly characterized to play into some Metaphor, what’s that metaphor, is it shit, is the execution of it shit. and oftentimes Trauma is just like, idk, it’s like well here’s this person’s Weakness, and it being horror that’s more likely to make it into a Fatal Flaw, like way to have trauma you dumbass, if you were so weak as to fail to just get over it already / Overcome it, you just might be killed for it

annoying, shallow and hackneyed, insulting, etc, and it’s also like, the Individual Focused emotional journey like and here this character who’s been weakly propped up by the Stronger people supporting them will have to go through the crucible of being alone, facing down their Issue like their trauma, and getting through it in this big dramatic one and done way so they can finally stop being a pussy and an obstacle to others. or else fuck it up & die. and it’s like do you know how this works lmfao (no) why shouldn’t the support help. why should it Have to go away. why shouldn’t everyone be crowdsourcing their emotional support amongst their group lmao and never needing to “overcome” it Forever, alone. and that’s at least mostly what gets to go on in It lmfao, like, so obviously this is About Childhood Trauma. whereas It = any of the forces that make people act in ways that create, facilitate, or simply passively allow trauma. (or just some shit that really fucks shit up sometimes i guess.) and you have kids who get caught Alone getting got. but then you have a larger group of some twelvish year olds who are like alright fuck this then, and that’s enough to get through it, the same way that naturally in the less magical / more literal realm of their lives, that friend group & joining forces & providing this like actually (relatively) safe and supportive environment amongst themselves is what protects them & makes everyone a lot more of a force to be reckoned with than they are when out / caught on their own. and it just doesn’t happen to be about choosing to write about like, and then all these kids got picked off one by one anyways, despite their efforts, f. which like i guess it could be, but when the Point is so Directly about the emotional support some kids get from each other / that they Are crowdsourcing protection re: their individual vulnerabilities, that wouldn’t really emphasize that Point so much if regardless of the [having a friend group] everyone was fucked anyways. or the fact that like, again, this is About trauma and what can create it and how that can persist and all, the Magic Rules are about the emotional component of it all, when it’s like, oh this just so happens to be a magic murder entity that’s picking off kids but also prefers to torment them and/or like idk takes the route of going “oh you’re gonna hate this” and hooks up their consciousness via usb cable to the zillionth dimension void & then sips their life force through a crazy straw, or, as it would be to clown entities, a normal straw, and i dunno, that if the usb is unplugged vs eternal living death then the torment juice can give people the interdimensional premonition / telepathy across space & probably time shine(tm) like good for them i guess. call that hypervigilance?

and then that like, into the Adults timeline, not only is there this cheat like woops a stephen king story where adults are friends b/c they’ve reconnected the usb cables where the [friends like the ones i had when i was twelve] has now become immediately relevant and active again, i was like, mad man cinema contemplation meme a bit confused going into the second half until i realized some particular fact of the plot And it was slowly like....we’re kind of goofin huh, is this Being Funnier? b/c i mean, the first one wasn’t not ever funny or like otherwise not super solemn & heavy, and also i’m just Used to horror to the point it’s not gonna like bother me probably, i was watching alone and turned off the lights b/c i couldn’t adjust my screen’s lighting levels & the overhead light in here was gonna create glare via the mirror behind me, and i didn’t think anything of it at any point, i had to also be like “@ me, okay stop saying ‘me’ the moment you realize anything [A Scary Moment] is transpiring for no especial reason,” and yknow, it’s like a roller coaster to me, or i’d say like being tickled except actually i hate that one & will start physically fighting lol, where it’s like yeah aaaaaa but it’s fun & i’m Humored really, i’m experiencing the [horror & comedy are two sides of the same coin], when i’m startled or going like oooh that was, to be sure, creepy, it’s still like, ahaha, i’m figuratively tickled, going :] at the screen, i especially liked the same [ooh hehe yeah that’s eerie] type of moments in both halves like yeah very [your standard marble hornets enjoyer] of me....but anyways so then it did take me an extra few moments maybe in the second half like oh is this Markedly More Humorous? oh it is, then....sort of unexpected but then it immediately makes sense and was Fascinating like, oh, this is so In Conversation With the first movie and with the Overall Story here lmao. like, we are illustrating the Perspective Shift, the [kids timeline] is still relevant and defines everything that’s going on, but they Are adults now and That itself is relevant. b/c otherwise it’s like, it Is just the same situation played over again lmfao like damn we were the [kids fight & defeat a murder sewer clown monster] and now we’re the [adults fight & defeat a murder sewer clown monster]. and Of Course It Makes Sense for there to be overall more Drama for the kids, who are more so just living & immersed in their normal lives in that storyline, and of course, Are Kids, where like anything “was that fucked up or what” that’d happen would be more intense & threatening, and sure applying that perspective like, not only “yeah i’m just experiencing some media, but if that was really happening in life that’d be fucked up, if it was happening for real to me, i’d be like, whoa uh oh holy shit aaaa” lmao, and then an Additional layer of “and if i was twelve” like “yeah aaaa oh shit” way compounded by that, naturally.

but then i’m Also like, listen, i’d be more like halfway through my 27 yr time jump but i’m the adult with cptsd lmao and so i’m Madmen In The Theatreing because of this angle as well, and intrigued, positively, by the uptick in levity about everything. wherein it’s like okay, it’s sure Also true that like, undo the [and if you were twelve] angle, but The Same kind of fucked up shit happening would of course still be like well this sucks, and is startling, to Anyone who’s an adult, right. But Also like, again the way it’s relevant to touch base with the [kids] timeline, because that’s Defining Everything, this isn’t just “and they’re adults which means everyone’s just tougher than they were when they were kids” and That’s That, it’s like, these are adults who were these specific kids with specific experiences vulnerable to and exposed to bonus trauma, and now this is a “time to jump back in to a head on confrontation with that” plotline but As A Group again rather than this being just the story of like any individuals, or just the main kid/guy, who is now to be sure the [the middle aged writer guy of a stephen king story] lmfao, congrats....and you had [repressed memories but like, magically extensively encompassing] as the device here to as what allows for this outlier scenario of like “but how can adults possibly maintain friendships formed organically in their youth? well, they didn’t lol. but now they’re back.” and the past Has to be relevant and freshly Active because again, this Is directly about trauma lol, not just about whatever broader thing and anyone might secretly have this Hangup or two that’ll get them got. and they all Know this lol, this may be some exclusive knowledge more broadly, but this is Not a secret amongst this group of adults like ah yes my marinating issues that nobody suspects i have....which is a bonus to [even though they’re adults in a stephen king story they don’t all or even mostly have to die] and then like, as i am trying to get around to, that it’d be Different being just any adult approaching this as a new situation to them vs being an adult With Trauma(tm) lol like. the way that one might go “well, this would suck for anyone, but i have a different vulnerability b/c [cptsd involving this shit]” but Then Also the resilience that nobody should have to have and it’s technically a “strength” even though then actually people interpret their [lack of honed ability through direct life experience to cope indefinitely with traumatic experiences] as the strength, a la “wow why’s that person put up with that, i wouldn’t stand for it b/c isn’t it So Clearly Bad & Unpleasant?” victim blaming mentality and people “used” to that shit “putting up with” said shit, which other people would throw up their hands like Wow Just No and walk away from. which in turn isn’t a “weakness” lmao like, there’s no moral judgments to being someone w/trauma or someone without it. that people shouldn’t Have to have cptsd or Resilience, of course, but then that they do. i’m certainly relating to like, yeah it’s Magic Rules / Exaggeration the way that only people young enough can detect & deal with this shit directly, the first time around, and then that they still have access to it as adults presumably b/c of that exposure as kids and because [the childhood trauma doesn’t just Go Away b/c you grew up, even though Also people just think that it ought to or like wow so immature or wow you’re Letting it affect you too strongly still, huh] etc. and anyways, relating to like, yeah enjoyed the way some adults would just be cool & generally supportive, but i also only had so much access to such adults, all Through parents or via school where it’s like, yeah but all the adults there have to Make Sure You’re Behaving Properly in various ways that lead to [punitive] ends and if anyone’s being like particularly supportive / understanding that’s a personal individual choice & they’re probably going Above & Beyond. kind of impressed how useless, and actively unhelpful / counterproductive, any adults were later on when i was dealing with it all the more / had it coming to a head in ways lol, didn’t have an epic friend group i hung out with at twelve or ever who Knew Me that well or i shared anything with or got lifechanging emotional support from, but there Were occasions of like, yeah these peers get it, huh. and now with the perspex of [cptsd having adult] it’s like, yeah, i’d have repeated dreams of parents showing up & i start physically fighting them off with like a shovel and shit lmfao. even now when i rarely have dreams ft. like a more general monster / menacing figure, like i did last night, go figure, Dream Me is always like Oh Okay and immediately physically charges them unarmed lmfao. (also had a dream cameo where some guy on a home computer who was making up like building / engineering schematics? was a Wrole like omg hey buddy. unfortunately a limited interaction, that plot got quickly waylaid by the one where i launch myself at some entity. booo) i can be like “ah, here goes the adrenal response” mostly only noticing sometimes when it’s like, my physical tension has gone to the point of [i can notice my legs/knees shaking], i can also Not Notice It / not think of it b/c you know, it’s like this is truly mundane / everyday shit, in the Relative / Comparative way that it can be. it can be stealth mission time to do some ordinary shit like you live in a survival horror game. it can also go “yeah i could very easily see how if, say, there was this manifestation of trauma / the shit that causes/facilitates/sustains/allows it, i’d go sicko mode on that shit just immediate physical attack” lmao. i know if i’m startled it’s like, that can be a) ordinary, and/or b) unpleasant, and probably c) immediately followed by my being ready to go sicko mode, possibly being a bit pissed off lol. like i can’t even be worried like oh no it’s nighttime what if something was menacing. like yeah that’d be scary and suck, i might get got, i’d also immediately be pissed off like fucking try me you asshole. and it’s like, again the way comedy is A Framework, it’s not what happens when a situation is Lighthearted, Unserious, Frivolous, etc. the like, obvious fact like wow people who are funny can be sad? can have had some fucked up, Serious experiences? can even joke about that? like yeah of course humor can be Deliberately Employed To Cope, including to even communicate about shit, where you’re cueing hard like, i’m not necessarily collapsing under the weight of this right now but it’s a reality and when i’m telling you about it with Humor it’s not in turn asking for you to fix it or even do anything about it at all except be listening to / comprehending the info i’m giving you. and that even looking back on shit can be funny To You because it’s just like, sure Elevated and can be a bit absurd. so it’s like oh yeah of course it’d be funnier, in a way characters are aware of & actively interacting with lmfao. like of course any adult would be like “jesus christ. yikes. aaaa” lol while also being more inclined and able to tackle bullshit right off, but Also being specifically an adult with the [this is your childhood trauma] can be like, yes i’m both still affected by and vulnerable to this shit, but i’m Also less vulnerable than some rando might be, actually, and prepared to / more used to this, and able to go “jesus christ yikes aaaa lmfaooo ahaha” about it. like, i feel that lol.

paragraph break just because that one was getting Extra long: oh and also the matter of Genre Awareness, that this isn’t just some fucked up shit that happens to be scary and fuck your shit up, but this is expressly an antagonist coming after you with the intention to be scary to you, and you Know that, you are aware you’re in a Horror Genre situation lmao, so meta, surely helpful. and sure sometimes i felt the like comedy vs horror; comedy vs drama sometimes didn’t transition perfectly like, my kind of feeling ambivalent at this one point like uhhh is this scene more straightforwardly dramatic? hmm i guess it was. well anyways. but that’s fine, meanwhile continually delighted even to realize like, here we are going over this all again but with this Shifted Perspective / Framework, we’re clearly goofin a bit. and like how i can clap & cheer like ooh yeah that was creepy lmfao, i got Got comedically like idfk dozen times or what all. ahehe....not to mention the [i Am going insane. society] experience of scrungy expression spit take coughing laughter when overlaying [titanic guy going HaHaHaHaHaHaHa XD as the camera lifts away from overhead] upon [mad man serious contemplation of cinema png] while experiencing like wow the gay Text is more textual than i though, more extensive, turns out i had some things to go into entirely afresh without going “oh yeah, i remember what i osmosis’d about this” to then go :0 =0 about, or that i didn’t quite get Everything through osmosising that i did recall, to then spit take about and become titanic guy fifty times over. i Am a bit joker mode, you really just have to be. and laughing about [when stephen king and PPL go “you know this type of guy” and we all go “yeah i guess. i know Of them [possible knowing looks amongst ourselves, or to the camera]” and then they go “you know how they’re—” and then our answers of “maybe like gay or some shit” overlaps with their “just another heterosexual amongst all the rest of us, unless we’re gay, but we’re talking about how all the protagonists we write are cishet i guess?” like. haha. what an alignment, good for everyone in the overlap....oh and i was like ahahaha when the podcast discussion of The Book Specifically nevertheless had one guy knowing the lore already that the stephen king cameo here as Some Secondhand / Pawn Shop Type Place Owner Guy was someone who, in stephe’s (not a typo, making stephe as = steven happen, with particular enunciation of the ph vs v) own written text as the description of That Guy in the book, is like, this gay caricature who is like wearing some mesh or i think they said it said “fishnet” shirt and like clearly reading this gay porn mag. because how else would someone be gay lmfao? how else would you Know you’ve encountered one of them?? lmfao like, a) i also agree with the podcasters who are like, stephe’s a coward for not staying true to that specific description he wrote when cameo’ing as that person, and b) like, people are gay, stephe....but classic matters of [running down a hallway going Noooo and knocking shit down behind you while being chased by [the way stephen king writes about [take your pick] and/or just like, what do you think is going on in life re: [take your pick] exactly, stephen king, i swear] lol)

anyways This has turned into [gif of the guy emphatically pointing at a laptop and also at some unseen listener to this Serious Monologue] because i have endless things to say about anything. the point it it’s like, well hey i think that was remarkably successful re: choosing to have Characters with Emotional Arcs tied to a Metaphor in this horror media, when usually i’m like, the execution of this is so shit that it’s like, just don’t have characters lol, don’t try to make it a metaphor (although you know, difficult for it not to be tied to anything irl, so don’t be unaware of how it Could be), if it’s gonna be this kind of a mess. the fact that like, you can’t have [trauma] be a character weakness fatal flaw that gets them got b/c they weren’t individually Strong Enough, b/c this is All About a) having & interacting with that [trauma] first and foremost and b) how having a group of relationships affects that (helpfully). my pleasant surprise about how like yeah of course you can’t just make the exact same movie again but i wasn’t necessarily expecting a noticeably more outright comedic angle for round two, but duly kinda delighted by it, and that felt very Appropriate and Verisimilitudinous for the new angle of And You’re Completely Grown. that stephen king Rarely writes about relevant friendships and all the more rarely to never writes about relevant friendships between Adults but whoops, that happened here, b/c there was a magical workaround where “drifting apart” was not entirely congruous to the real life literal actual way that’d happen, and b/c the way this is about childhood trauma means that the Rest of that childhood is relevant to adulthood / adult identities, and he ends up with “god, does anyone?” being answered by “yeah, sometimes” lol. and yeah being a deh enjoyer / being haunted byer / analyzer means anytime something is About the connections someone, say a young person for one, might make and how that can be relevant to All Their Issues, i’m sitting up & taking notes like oh ya don’t say. that stephen king shit overall is like, well this is Interesting and i could talk all day but i’m also like, personally more ambivalent and bound to run over like hey stephe i’m shoving you around, bitch. until we form an unlikely, begrudging alliance to instead go after stanley kubrick, then boo the the shining movie, but whatever. the the shining book ending, one of the few things i particularly remember from actually reading that one, is true like, stephen king endings tending to be a hot mess that maybe aren’t super successful but here we are and it was like, why’d it get so goofy all of a sudden lmfao like i’m telling you with the schrodinger’s boiler that’s old and temperamental and if you don’t maintain it it’ll blow up probably, and that the way things end in the book is the [middle aged dime a dozen writer man protag] being possessed by a hotel is like oh fuck me lmfao, not the boiler i can’t maintain myself even though i’m possessing a hotel, it hasn’t been maintained, and then as always in any of these stories things go off the rails and yakety sax starts to play while after hanna barbera cartoon scrambling in place for a second, your haunted hotel avatar starts sprinting to the basement or wherever it was but Too Late, it blows up and the hotel dies kind of. and that’s kinda fun and funny lol but yknow, put it back in. beating up kubrick aside, i’ve seen all of? nigh all of? wasn’t paying much attention. the movie and it’s like oh okay whatever. but as with like [anything stephen king] and my not even being born till the 90s, it’s like, i can’t possibly experience this afresh, we can all agree that surely this is the best known stephen king work b/w book & film adaptation, even among biggies that really just permeate pop culture overall, who can know what i’d think if these things were New and pre [own significant influence on relevant genres / mediums] or also i was a younger reader/viewer at the times as people could often be. but i was like....expression where you scrunch your face up and look to the side like “are you seeing this” bemusement like...this is. fine i guess? it’s not really scary lmfao. and regardless, resurrecting kubrick to beat him up. but on that note it’s also funny that god knows why i ever mentioned the hypothetical of watching the shining once in passing to my mom, it would’ve been humorous / not in earnest b/c no way would i have been suggesting we watch that or even that i had watched it necessarily, so i Think i must’ve just been informing her of some things that were on tv at that moment with some goofy but technically accurate suggestions like that one, and she is a bit indignant like clearly disapproving of the general idea because, as she says, she doesn’t think it’s Right to tell kids they should ever be afraid of their parents. but between “but like. they go axe murder possessed by a hotel mode here, wherein i think it’s very appropriate?” and [someone who watches It and keeps looking into the camera one zillion times / is fascinated by the fact it’s like oh wow, any horror talking about What If You Had Trauma that isn’t like fundamentally misguided throughout and probably egregiously insulting about it] i take a perfectly comedically timed pause and then we freeze frame on my doing a spit take Laugh into my own drink. not actually in the real moment lol, i just Say Nothing and file that one away lmfao

oh and as a little postscript here i want to shoutout my going “just like Watch Your Step in goosebumps the musical the phantom of the auditorium” where it’s like, schrodinger’s warning about how a kid could just up and accidentally die via this trapdoor or like anywhere anytime, but you don’t really realize that b/c you’re kids, but I’m Telling You. and like, he’s right in general to be sure, you can just die, as well as unknowingly right of course like oops yeah some kid did just up and suddenly die via this trapdoor, grimly. and that’s Stand By Me / The Body handshake emoji It, like of course that mortality is ever relevant particularly in horror, but that also it’s like, kids realizing the reality and Proximity of that, like You Can Die, this could be you or could’ve been you. [horror, and it’s middle schoolers] wins again

#how long is this. and i could've gone on lol. if i have anything to say i Can [never shut up]#it #like what even addendums could there be for the tags....like don't even start b/c of course i could max shit out #i guess the Interesting Fun Fact that in doing research the podcasters were able to be like #''well i'm not Sure abt this; the source was maybe vague & it Would be vague; but that naturally ofc plenty of story elements in #stephen king stuff can be things where he's like yeah [xyz] was directly inspired by some real life shit [abc]'' and that like there was #Maybe this childhood event where he saw a friend / some other kid get hit by a train but then right off fully blacked out on that memory #which obviously would be pertinent here re: Remembering Litchrelly Nothing abt childhood till it all suddenly is brought back into play #but also like the part of stand by me included a scene like woops Almost getting hit by a train. dunno if that's in the short story though #but i'm gonna say Probably Yeah. plus learning again via the podcast like oh stephe got mega hit by like a minivan in '99? i was 5 lol #so i would not have been aware of that news. and i have not since Caught Up on the man's life history. nice not dying there #there was probably some other sidebar i wanted to throw in here but i forget and quick let's post this before I Keep Going On & On #scrolling up ''oh this isn't That long'' scrolling back down ''oh wait maybe it is kinda long''#it's all relative. i like horror i dislike horror. i said a lot i was so concise.#for one thing lmfao like sure is Interesting how; say; i was always Intrigued by horror as a kid even #like i think that's true for plenty of people & there's more than one way to enjoy a genre & s/o to Horror Expressly For Kids or anything #expressly for kids when it's like good & genuine & apropos it's Not just necessarily abt diluted or lesser versions of that For Adults #but anyways like i Also though def experienced like; this does freak me out & in an [i'm not having fun] way. But I Also persisted lol #like me thinking ''but i have to power through & build up a tolerance here'' when like; of course i really Didn't. why would i.#did that re: like thrill rides too sometimes; kinda liking them & the suspense; kinda really not; at least for a good while #i Did build up a tolerance &/or just how i got older & now i think all thrill rides are entirely Fun. except just straight drop towers maybe #haven't tried one lol but i've tried like roller coasters that are supposed to be Especially intense & i didn't even realize like oh. huh.#like it was fine actually lol we have fun...and same with horror; again how like yeah i'm not expecting Especially Intense but yeah ofc i'm #gonna fire this shit up alone in the dark & never think anything of that. munch crunch #like hmmmmm re: my being a little kid who Was bothered more by such shit sometimes while also intrigued / having fun #but who regardless was like Well I Have To Try To Be Okay With It / seek it out & power through. vs ppl who are just like well no i don't #enjoy or like horror stuff particularly and/or roller coasters lol. compare & contrast & contextualize w/me also being a little kid who is #experiencing trauma & trauma responses as what is for me some mundane / everyday / par for the course / Anytime shit lol and of course i do #not have the info / context / perspective / framework to realize this. so i get distressed by ''that Would be fucked up'' but what else is #new or what have you? why shouldn't i also go ''well i guess i have to Get Good at tolerating this / Enduring it'' lmao

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sluttyft · 6 months

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"More"

Matthew Sturniolo

warnings: suggestive content. enemies to lovers.

notes: minors preferably dni, but I'm not ur mother so whatever. lowercase intended.

Despite being enemies, you've noticed that Matt has been a bit more tolerant towards you lately. You're currently in the living room with Nick and Chris, but they've just left, leaving you bored and with nothing to do. You decide to venture into Matt's room, hoping to find some entertainment.

As soon as he hears your footsteps, he looks up from his phone, lets out a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Get out," he says curtly, his tone laced with irritation.

You reach out and grab one of the stuffed log-shaped pillows lying on the couch and respond with a simple and resolute "No."

With a flick of a wrist, you toss the pillow lightly into the air, watching it twirl before catching it again.

As you toss the pillow, Matt rolls his eyes, not even bothering to look up from his phone. However, a small smile plays on his lips. After a few moments, he gives up and his phone buzzes with a new notification.

He catches the pillow mod-air and looks up at you for the first time in a minute. With a smirk, he puts his phone down on the coffee table and says, "I see you want some attention."

You ask with interest, "what makes you say that?" as you quickly take the pillow from his hands and continue to toss and turn the soft pillow, eagerly waiting for his answer.

He raises an eyebrow, seemingly amused by your playful behavior. His eyes follow you as you move around the room, seemingly lost in thought. He then speaks up, his voice filled with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s not like you walked into my room to get attention and stay longer. Nope, not at all.”

He stares at you for a beat, a smirk forming on his lips as he teases you. The playful tone in his voice makes it clear that he's not being serious.

“Do you need my attention that bad, baby?” he asks, still grinning.

You let out a small chuckle and playfully toss the pillow at his face before standing up from the foot of his bed.

"Well, it seems like you're just looking for a way to give me attention, and I'm feeling a little bored," I retort with a sassy smirk on my lips as I reach for the doorknob. "i want coffee, drive me there?" I ask as I swing the door open and begin to step out.

Matt, who had been lying down on the bed, catches the pillow you threw at him and sits up. He looks at you with a playful expression and asks, "Aww, you're bored?"

You nod your head in agreement, feeling a bit restless. Matt gives you a cocky smile and tosses the pillow back at you as he gets up from the bed. He starts walking towards the door and just before he steps out, he turns around and looks at you with a smirk on his lips.

"You know," he says, "I'll go get coffee with you, but I'll need something in return."

As his words hit your ears, you come to an abrupt stop and a swarm of thoughts floods your mind.

Turning slightly to face him, you raise an eyebrow and place a hand on your hip, curious about what he meant by his word choice.

"Something like what?" you ask, hoping for more information to clarify his intentions.

As you stand there, feeling a bit flustered after Matt's comment, he smirks at you, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you. You wait, curious to hear what his condition for taking you on might be. Matt takes a moment to pause as if he's building up the suspense.

Then, he says with a playful glint in his eye, "Well, I'm only going to take you on one condition..." You can feel your heart racing as you wait for him to reveal his condition.

Matt gives you a sly smile, almost daring you to guess what it might be. You rack your brain, trying to come up with a guess, but before you can say anything, Matt's voice interrupts your thoughts. "You need to give me a kiss."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Matt's smirk widens, and he looks at you expectantly, waiting to see what you'll do or say next.

Your lips curled into a sly smile as you let out a small laugh, "Oh please."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of power knowing that you had gotten under his skin. you stepped into the dimly lit room and shut the door behind you, the sound of the latch echoing in the silence.

"You want me that bad?" You taunted him, your voice laced with mocking mean humor, as you walked towards him, your shoes clicked on the hardwood floor.

I could see his eyes darting nervously around the room, unsure of how to react to my words. I stopped short of him, my face inches away from his, my eyes narrowing as I took in his expression.

You could feel the palpable tension in the air as you stood there, face-to-face with him. You could almost hear his heart beating like a drum as he tried to maintain a calm and collected demeanor.

He seemed unsure of how to react. You were standing so close to him that you could smell the cologne on his skin. He stood frozen in place, his eyes narrowed as he watched you intently.

His initial smirk had faded, replaced with a slight shade of red on his cheeks. Every detail of this moment was etched in your memory, from the way his hair fell across his forehead to the creases in his shirt as he shifted slightly in place.

You position your body to block his field of vision, observing his muscles flex as he puts his hands on the bed beneath him. With agitated breaths, he leans back, trying to regain composure. You were so close to him that you could feel his breath on his skin.

"What's the matter?" you ask, your head tilting to the side mockingly. "Not feeling so brave now, are we?" I let out a laugh, relishing the power I held over him at that moment.

Matt's body language changes as he shifts slightly, trying to get a better look at you. His eyes scan the room, then he catches yours and holds your gaze for a moment. You can see a hint of attraction in his expression as he raises an eyebrow, trying to hide his feelings.

You could almost hear his thoughts as he wondered if you were mocking him and why he didn't move earlier. He swallows audibly, trying to calm himself as his eyes roam over your figure, taking in your curves and features.

The air was thick with tension and each passing moment felt like an eternity. Your heart was racing and you couldn't help but bite down on your lips nervously. You couldn't shake the doubt from your mind - did he like you or was he just playing around? Was he serious about his feelings or were you just another game to him?

As you moved closer to him, your breaths grew shaky and your nerves were on edge. The tension between bothe of you was palpable and you knew that you had to find some way to release it.

Your faces were mere inches apart now, and you took in every fine detail of his features. You were mesmerized by his beauty and couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.

But the moment was fleeting and you knew that you had to make your move - either now or never. The weight of the decision was heavy on my shoulders, but you were determined to take the chance.

Matt's breaths grew heavier with each passing moment as his eyes betrayed his fear and attraction towards you.

He couldn't help but look you up and down and follow your every move with his gaze. As he leaned in closer, his eyes searched yours, and time seemed to stand still as the two of you were the only ones in the room.

When his lips finally pressed against yours, it was a slow and soft kiss that sent his heart racing and his breaths becoming shallow and fast. Every moment seemed to be amplified.

The moment your lips touched, you felt the tension between you two break. You couldn't help but wonder what you had been thinking before, as everything felt so right at that moment.

The feeling of his lips on yours was nothing short of amazing. They were soft and tasted sweet, and it felt like a perfect fit for both of us. You couldn't resist the urge to pull him closer, and your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, wrapping around his head.

As we leaned in for another kiss, you felt my heart rate quicken. This time it was more passionate, and you savored every moment of it. It was as if you both had been longing for this all along, and finally, the universe had aligned to bring you together.

As you ran your fingers through his hair, Matt shivered with pleasure. He drew you in closer, his hands cradling the back of your head as he tasted the sweetness of your mouth.

His breaths grew ragged and he let out a low groan, his desire for you almost overwhelming. As he slowly pulled away from the kiss, he kept his hands on your body, his half-closed eyes locked on yours. His warm breath washed over your cheeks and he let out a soft moan before speaking “Now is that a good enough reason for me to get your attention?”

As I held him close, I whispered in his ear, "What if I wanted more?" My voice carried a hint of mischief.

You leaned in and slowly traced kisses along his neck, starting at the base of his collarbone. Your heart raced as you wondered how far he could take things.

The anticipation was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the possibilities that lay ahead.

As your lips traced down Matt’s neck, he felt a shiver run through his body. Every time you kissed him, he experienced a tingling sensation on his skin that made him feel like he was in tune with your thoughts. When you whispered seductively in his ear, he could feel your warm breath against his neck. This sent a thrill down his spine and he couldn't help but grin mischievously.

"Is that what you want, huh?" he whispered back to you, his voice full of mischievousness

“I can give you more…”

1788 words!

hope you enjoyed my first serious short, pt2 (out now!)

#paxi's fics #paxi's thots #matthew sturniolo x reader #dont like dont interact #matt sturniolo x reader #matt #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #kinktober #chris sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

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incomingalbatross · 4 months

Text

ways to have improved Frozen because I'm back on this again

Increase the age gap between the sisters. There's so much more room for angst on BOTH sides if, say, Anna was three and Elsa was ten when they were separated. Or more, even! You can automatically make Anna the baby sister Elsa would die for and Elsa the unknown sibling Anna would really like to believe loves her, without any magical memory erasure needed.

Tell the entire thing from Anna's POV!!! Then "Elsa loves her and isn't evil" can satisfy all of your twist/suspense needs without dividing all your energy between "what about Elsa" and "what about Hans" and "what about Kristoff"

Related: nothing against Kristoff as a person but introducing two romantic prospects in a story that's supposed to be about sibling bonds is so cluttered and unnecessary. Replace him with a helpful married couple assisting Anna on her journey and then A) the viewer knows this is about Anna/Hans and Anna & Elsa in some form WITHOUT the red flag of "clearly Hans isn't endgame" and B) Anna gets to hang out with a healthy relationship model. You could do something constructive about Healthy Romance. You could make them surrogate parents.

Changes 2 and 3 combine really well to making this Anna's movie with Elsa as the Surprise Co-Heroine which. It would have been so much cleaner. So much easier to build a focused narrative.

I have said it before and I'll say it again: This could have just been the Snow Queen.

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kitorin · 5 months

Text

sweet dreams.

in which, nanami kento finally goes on a long overdue vacation

contents. nanami kento x gn!reader, 2.965k words, fluff but then heavy angst (mcd and hurt no comfort), mentions of murder (true crime stuff) but no detail of it, reader is a coward and really can't handle horror (sorry that's just me projecting)

"What did you do?"

Guilt makes your lips purse, tongue swiping over them out of habit. You didn't want to call him, to interrupt him during the night shift he ever so loathes, contributing to the things he has to do.

But with demons lurking in the dark and the sense of impending doom beginning to latch onto you, it felt necessary, especially when fear decided to be quite clingy.

"I got scared."

A tired sigh comes from the phone. "How many times do I have to tell you not to watch anything disturbing at night?"

"This documentary got really interesting. I wanted to know what happened next..." Explicit content was fine, with Kento there to cling onto and his never-ending reassurance. Your husband watched these intense shows and documentaries without so much of a flinch, unfazed by quite literally everything displayed on the screen.

You, on the other hand, was a completely different case.

The slightest raise in volume managed to steal a scream from you, and jump scares had you flinching just a bit too hard. The mere build up and suspense of the music had your heart racing, even if nothing happened and it served as a little trick.

"I'm so sorry Ken, I'll hang up so you can focus on work." You're an adult, you shouldn't be so cowardly towards a mere genre of entertainment, and you should know better not to consume it.

Your thumb reaches for the red button, and your emotions hold you back, while rationality argues not to.

"No. Neither of us are going to be hanging up."

One part of you celebrates quietly, while another insists. "But you're working. Overtime nonetheless, and I know you hate those shifts. It's best to get everything done as soon as possible and get out of there."

His voice is raspy, garnished by a sultry tone. "Love, I belong to you, not my job. I do appreciate your thoughts, but you're more important than a mere paycheck."

Fuck. There it is, his eloquent, smooth way with words.

"Still. I can wait." That was a lie, though one you were willing to utter if it meant he'd prioritise his job. "Besides, what about that higher up you mentioned? The irritating one that's childish and overtalkative?"

Kento chuckles. "He's here, but he takes his job seriously and is highly capable. I'm on break anyways. Talk to me. If you can."

"I read about the Sapporo murder case. I still feel like the culprits from the case is going to sneak up on me. Or one of the zombies from Happiness." You adored the show and its cast, but god forbid you sit through another one of its jump scares.

"That's fine, it's normal. The point of this type of media is so scare. A lot of effort is put into making sure they elicit emotion." You cling onto every word he speaks, the world around you still there, only a bit blurry now. "Breathe in through your nose for four second, pause for two. Then breathe out through your mout for another eight."

Have you brushed your teeth?"

Kento hums as a response when you answer yes.

"Where are you right now?"

"In bed, but I need to clean up and turn off some lights before I sleep."

"Ignore it. I'll do it when I'm home."

"Are you sure?" There was no point in asking that, not when you'd rather not move away from the security of the doona. "You're going to be exhausted by the time you're home."

"Doesn't matter to me." Genuine indifference to the matter displays itself in Kento's tone. "I took a nap earlier, had a coffee or two as well. I'm going to be alright—" Something in the background echoes, though you could barely decipher what you were hearing, the furious tone of the voice concerned you.

"Who was that...? Is your boss mad at you? Wait but it doesn't make sense for a boss to give you a nickname—"

For a moment or two, Kento remained silent. "No, just an enthusiastic intern. He's talkative and sometimes loud but he's a good kid."

Your former worry dissipates, so quick that it almost seemed like it was never there in the first place. "Nanamin, was it?"

He sighs, the two of you know damn well that you'll refuse to forget that one.

"It's cute! Nanamin. I like how it sounds."

Voice softening, he replies with a chuckle. "I feel like you'd get along well."

"You should invite him over then. He must adore you if he's calling out to you that much."

"If that's true then I'd say the feeling is quite mutual." All you have is his voice, yet you can say without a doubt that he's beaming, a subtlety only you'll ever know— one of the many which compose the love between the two of you.

"Keep working." You whisper as a yawn claws out of your throat.

"Are you sure? Are you okay now?"

You nod, though he can't see it. "I am. Just listening to you helps a lot."

"I'm glad."

"Do your best at work, okay? And make sure you stay safe on the way home?" You hold back a grin, even though you're alone in your shared bedroom. "I have a surprise for you when you get home."

Kento piques with curiosity. "Really?"

"Yup, I think you'll love it." You stare at your bedside table, where tickets to Malaysia were stored. "I hope you do, at least."

"If it's coming from you of course I'll love it sweetheart." It's miraculous really, how you've been together for so long yet you have to suppress the urge to squeal over his sweet words. "My boss is going to start making me work again, good night darling. Sweet dreams, love."

You fall asleep with ease that night, this time with welcomed thoughts of spending time with Kento on the shore of Kuantan, running around whilst cherishing the cold, salty water licking at your ankles; rather than the intrusive thoughts from earlier.

"You could've kept talking to them. I wouldn't've told anyone even if it took a lot of time."

Fushiguro Megumi is examining the sharpness of his blade when he reassures his teacher Nanami Kento, not looking up from his weapon, seated by the railing of the bridge.

"I appreciate that, but it'd be wrong of you." He moves his shoulders in circles, loosening his tie to wrap it around his knuckles. "I can teach you other methods."

"Pardon?"

Nanami crouches in front of Megumi. "Your breathing changed when I told them how to." The student doesn't respond. "It varies from person to person, I've tested out a lot."

Megumi still doesn't answer, averting his gaze towards the weapon that he held down.

"Fushiguro - kun. Are you scared?"

The younger finally speaks once more. "... I guess." Hesitation presents itself in his words, barely stable and his reluctance to maintain eye contact. "I won't let that stop me from completing my tasks—"

"It's okay. You're merely sixteen, you're not even old enough to drink, nor get your driver's licence."

Megumi returns to silence.

"Look at me." And so Megumi does. "To be a child is not a sin. I'm perfectly fine with withdrawing you from this operation if it's too much."

"Wouldn't that get you in trouble?"

Indeed he would. He'd tolerate plenty of discipline and anger from the higher ups. But Nanami Kento knows too well what it's like to risk you and your peers for a 'greater good', at nonetheless a ridiculously young age too—an age where you're supposed to go to regular school and be regular, stupid kids figuring themselves out; not witnessing the death of the ones dear to your heart with the sight of their corpses forever imprinted into your mind, nor have the stench of blood memorised meticulously instead of historical dates or mathematical formulas.

If it were up to him, he'd prohibit such exploitation of children. None should be performing such tasks, even if born with an advantageous cursed technique.

If the higher ups adopted the same philosophy as him, Haibara would be alive and well, and Nanami wouldn't feel his stomach lurch whenever he sees a bowl of rice, nor flinch whenever he hears the mention of Geto Suguru.

'I don't mind if it means you'll be at ease. Gojo can protect me, and if I'm unable to extract you from this operation then I'll handle everything."

Megumi takes a deep breath. "I shouldn't run away. I'll do my best. I have Tsumiki I need to return to. We should go find Itadori now."

“If you say so then, but it’s still my duty to protect you.” With a final, strong tug he tightens his tie around his knuckles. “I can't guarantee any results, not in this instable world and career. What I can promise, is that I will protect you with my life."

A determined nod from Megumi is all he needs.

Quick and efficient; that's the plan. Shibuya was already a mess, and all he wanted was the security of your arms within the four walls he calls 'home'.

"Thank you for having us."

Megumi, the one with the messy, black hair speaks coldly, though very politely, his manners were courteous and so was Yuuji. They'd come to your door and introduced themselves as interns at Kento's company. Now, they were seated in your living room, on your couch.

"Don't mention it, Ken's always been fond of the interns." You already miss him, he must've stayed overnight at the company again. "Are you okay with first names?"

Both nod.

You smile. "So, Yuuji, Megumi, what have you come here for?"

Yuuji speaks first. "It's about Nanamin, I mean Nanami—"

Without malicious attempt you cut him off. "Nanamin is fine, I overheard you calling him that last night. He was fond of it, it was quite cute after all." You chuckle to yourself at it.

The boy swallows, appearing apprehensive. He sounded so enthusiastic last night, perhaps he was the type who needed to warm up towards people first.

"Well, um."

You don't say anything, giving him time to respond comfortably.

"Nanami sensei passed away last night." Megumi finishes what Yuuji couldn't.

Your heart drops.

Temptation to make an accusation of a prank attempts to claw out of your throat, but with how their expressions scream nausea and discomfort, it'd be rude to do so.

That explained why he never kept his promise of finishing up on chores, knowing Kento he would’ve done everything to make sure he made it home to do as he said he would.

"What happened?" It doesn't feel right— and it isn't at all, but you have to figure out the truth, even if this all doesn't seem real.

"There was a fire." Yuuji whispers, barely loud enough and coherent with the tremble of his voice. "And he didn't make it out in time."

You remain silent, so does Megumi. Yuuji bites his lip, suppressing what seemed to be a sob.

"I see."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If only—" It drowns out in his bawling. "It was my fault. He—"

He completely lacked incoherency now, hiccuping as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"He helped us first." Megumi once again continues Yuuji's words. "But they recovered his body, we brought you his ashes."

He pulls out a package from his shoulder bag, wrapping it to reveal a pale blue funerary urn. Megumi places it onto the table.

"I'm sorry. If I had been capable of protecting myself he wouldn't've died saving me."

Your gaze meets Megumi’s, you're too afraid to properly acknowledge the urn, where your boyfriend was supposedly resting.

Silence permeates the air, Yuuji bites his sleeve to suppress his crying and Megumi breathes shakily.

"Don't apologise. You have no reason to. Neither of you." You've barely known the two, but the way Yuuji was sobbing broke your heart, and how both seemed to genuinely believe they caused Kento's passing. "It's not your fault. I don't think it is, and he would agree with him. He made the choice to help you, because he cared deeply for both of you. You can cry freely, I won't stop you." You muster a smile, hoping it'll be comforting in some sort of way. They're only kids, they can't be blaming themselves for the death of another they didn't cause.

Yuuji's teeth release the sleeve of his hoodie, hiccuping out what sounded like a thank you. You push a tissue box towards him, to which he accepts the offer.

"You idiot…” Megumi sniffles a bit.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be fine.” You pat him on the back, rubbing it too. You give him your phone, opening a new contact. “I’d like to invite you two to the funeral, can I have your contact details? In the meantime I’ll make some tea.”

You earn a nod, and are quick to retreat into the kitchen, hand holding your mouth shut as you slowly cry, pleading for Yuuji and Megumi to be unable to hear.

"Kento! We're here, at Kuantan!"

After a long flight and travel, you finally arrived at your destination, you had dropped your luggage off at the accommodation, the urn Megumi had given you was held up against your chest.

I've always wanted to go to Kuantan, in Malaysia. One day I'd like to build a house on a secluded beach and live there. Of course with you, if you were okay with it.

You take off your sandals, tossing them away as you approach the shoreline, the coolness of the water catching you off guard. You continue walking, until it reaches halfway up your calves.

Off goes the lid of the urn, and you toss the ashes into the beach, watching the waves swallow Kento whole. It's not long before the urn is empty, you've never had to scatter someone's ashes, yet it felt like something was missing.

In all honesty, you have no idea if Kento wanted to be cremated, you've never touched on the subject of death, probably because the two of you were so young.

But something tells you this is the right decision. Kuantan's beautiful, and he wanted to go when work and money permitted him to do so. He'd loved to read a book under the shade of that large tree over there, and would've wanted to try fishing at the rock ledge nearby. It was just the two of you here, even better.

Fuck.

As you watch him swim into the ocean, you notice the tears threatening to spill. You don't bother trying to avoid it, not that you would've been able to.

"It's not fair!" You yell, out into the ocean. You don't blame Yuuji, or Megumi, or anyone, but you're still livid. "I miss you, I miss you so much that it gets hard to breathe."

The ring box feels heavy in your pocket.

"If you had to leave this world early you could've done it later." Your cry becomes a sob. "Just one month, then I could've fucking proposed. I don't need a honeymoon or marriage, I just want your fucking answer."

In an ideal world, you'd like to think that he would've accepted without hesitation, but that fantasy doesn't compare to the pain of remaining oblivious to his answer forever.

"Who's going to comfort me now? Who am I going to spend the rest of my life with? Who am I going to cook dinner with? What about Yuuji and Megumi? They had to finish their internships without you. Do you know how hard Yuuji cried when he came to tell me you passed away?"

By no means are you mad at Kento, you could never. But anger that slowly accumulated in your heart for the past few months, and had erupted. The empty coldness of your bed stings, and the amount of cutlery required being halved overwhelms you with misery. You can’t even laugh at his high school photos anymore, the amusement from his ridiculous haircut can’t triumph over the fact that he had passed away a mere ten years later.

You’d much rather store it all away, each and every possession and photo of the man. The sight of his favourite mug serves as a harsh reminder that morning coffee with him will never happen. Listening to old voice mails seemed reassuring and almost lulled you to sleep, until you had to come to terms that he was truly gone once more.

But at least sound can be captured.

What about his scent? Eventually his clothes would lose their scent, they probably were already on that course, even with your refusal to wash them. Touch can’t be preserved, you can cling onto the memory of your skin against his for as long as you want, but you’ll never truly experience it again.

“Goodbye Kento!” Despite your miserable state you pull yourself together just enough so you can see him off with a smile. “I love you, so so much. More than anything in the world, I always will! Thank you, for being there. Th-thank you for loving me.”

You've lost the energy to yell, throat now hoarse. You venture deeper into the shore, not caring about your clothes getting wet, as your face gets soaked with your own tears.

Who's fault is it? Was it the culprit of the fire (if there was one)? Or perhaps yours, for not proposing earlier. Maybe then he would've been safe and sound in Kuantan, after taking leave. Perchance it was the heavens deciding they’d rather just not authorise him to spend the rest of his name.

Whoever it was, it doesn't matter. Nothing could bring back the warmth of Nanami Kento.

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @pokkomi, @chigirizzz

#nanami my beloved #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk #nanamin #jujustu kaisen #fluff #angst #nanami angst #nanami fluff #kento nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento fluff

218 notes · View notes

boyfhee · 1 year

Text

⋆ EARLY MORNING CONFESSIONS · nrk

synopsis · mornings with you are riki's favourite ( 0.88k )

genre · established relationship, saur much fluff

notes · for my lovely @homelycat bff thank you for tolerating me & also enabling the inner hee stan ☝️☹️ u r so sweet i love u thank you for blessing enhablr with your fics i swear if you're missing on ten's works you are missing out on everything !!! go read her works or idk sleep with one eye open :/

riki loves to watch you sleep.

it's nothing new. you've been living together for a little over a year now, his mornings begin with you sleeping by his side most of the time, but riki doesn't look like he has moved on from the way you look when you're sleeping.

he thinks you look funny— ugly, maybe not ugly, but definitely funny. you look like such a mess, make weird faces, leave trails of incoherent words that wake him up in the middle of the night. your limbs are all over the bed and most of the time, they're above him, as if he's your bed or something. you never wake up the way you go to sleep, always ending up on his side of the bed, pushing him to the edge while wrapping your arms around him as if you're holding him from falling down, like you're not the reason why he's in that position in the first place. you end up taking the whole comforter and it got to the point where riki suggested using two different comforters for the sake of both of you, but it didn't help either, since you would leave yours and slide into his every single night.

but he doesn't complain, not at all. he doesn't mind if you steal his comforter and he has to sleep without one every night. it's fine if he falls down from bed once a few days, or if he wakes up with neck or back pain thanks to your habit of having your hands and legs all over him. riki doesn't have any complaints because he thinks it's a blessing to wake up every night and look at your beautiful face.

he thinks you're the prettiest while sleeping because you don't seem to care about the way you have to present yourself to people, even if it's just him and you in the room. you smile while sleeping, or frown, make some sort of angry face, etcetera etcetera; riki thinks it's adorable, because those are the moments when he realises he's in love with you.

"you could've woken me up," and sometimes, he's too busy falling in love with you, he doesn't realise you've woken up already.

"thought i'd let you sleep a little more," he speaks just above the comforting silence enveloping the two of you, trying to maintain the decorum, matching the intensity of his voice with yours while caressing your cheeks. "you're making me want to sleep again,"

"well, y—" he slips in next to you, making you shift involuntarily to make space for him. his hands are a little cold, sending bits of shivers down your spine as he wraps them around your waist, letting his fingertips trace random patterns on the bare skin under your sweatshirt. "i'd love to sleep more but, we need to make breakfast,"

"what's so good about breakfast at seven on a winter morning?" he whispers against the crook of your neck.

you chortle at the contact, "maybe that it can help me with my hunger?"

"if we sleep, we won't be hungry anymore," riki pulls back, allowing his eyes to admire your face while you take your time presuming the words behind his love sick eyes. "can i tell you something?"

"go on,"

"i think i'm in love with you,"

your lips curl into a smile, "you tell me that every day," or more so, multiple times, every day. it's more of a reminder so that you don't forget he loves you, and that he loves you more than anything else in this world, as if you're ever going to forget it.

"no i mean, i'm in love with you right now, at the moment, while we're lying next to each other; like, i'm falling in love with you right now and—" a pause, as if he's trying to build up suspense or create the atmosphere. it's simply a riki thing to do, he wants everything about you to be special. "— and, i don't think i can ever stop falling in love with you,"

it's magical how every single word that falls off his lips manages to flutter your heart. his smile never fails to fluster you even though you've been dating for three years now. riki has you going crazy and also keeps you sane. it's difficult, but you're somewhere in between. he has you head over heels for himself, making you fall for him every morning that you wake up. he's keeping you afloat but is also the reason why you're drowning. he is like a pool of contradictions in your life and you can't help it because every part of him makes you feel alive.

that is the effect riki has on you. so, you cup his cheeks, hoping that you have the same, if not more, effect on him as well. "i don't think i can ever stop falling in love with you either,"

875 notes · View notes

gureumz · 10 months

Text

the thinker

rating: explicit

member: sunoo

premise: after someone on your dormitory floor dies, your professor, sunoo, seeks out to solve it himself. concerned and bearing responsibility, you offer to help (in more ways than just gathering evidence). what you discover is more than what you bargained for.

notes: MAJOR DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH, graphic retellings of murders, dark themes, again this is a dark fic pls if you can't stomach it don't force yourself, thriller/suspense, fem!reader, law student!reader, law professor!sunoo, student x teacher relationships (all concerned parties are legal), dom!sunoo, slight breeding, dirty talk, light gagging, mentions of pregnancy (unrelated to the reader), lmk if i missed anything i'm fading

a/n: second of my 1k follower special! this was a doozy. changed a little of the premise because the story just took a life of its own oops ! also a late birthday thing for our boy sunoo. longer than the last one please enjoy (responsibly).

ANOTHER DISCLAIMER: i do not, by any means, claim that this is how the person depicted in this story acts or is in real life. this is a work of fiction with a made-up persona. please consume RESPONSIBLY.

a figure stands silently outside her door.

all is quiet. the occasional laughter is heard, but nothing is amiss.

the figure knocks, bowing his head low. he knows about the eyes. the eyes all over the walls.

she opens the door. effortlessly beautiful. a swan blessed in grace.

the figure embraces her. cradles her in his arms. holds her in his hands.

the swan falls.

---

you couldn't wrap your head around it.

a murder. right down the hall from where you slept, where you studied, where you bathed, so oblivious to the carnage taking place just a few doors down.

you heard the guttural, terrified scream of her roommate. everyone on the same floor did. rushing out of your room, your own mind racing with thoughts of the unthinkable, you see yunjin sobbing on the floor in front of her dorm room.

the one she shared with kazuha.

the door was wide open, light spilling out onto the dim hallway. yunjin was still crying, clutching her stomach as if physically pained by what she's seeing.

"s-someone call security, police, anyone!" yunjin shrieked, hands reaching out towards her doorway, hesitant.

some students have rushed to her side to see what she's hysterical about. all of them recoiled once they saw what awaited them in the room.

"she's dead! kazuha's been attacked!"

you blink, unaware that your heart rate had picked up in the few minutes that you recounted the events of that night.

it's been a week now since the school announced an immediate lockdown of the campus. classes were canceled, no one was to leave their dorms unaccounted for. those who live in the university accommodations were not permitted to exit the campus unless personally picked up by their parents or guardians. those who had family in another district, another province, another country lamented feeling trapped.

'what if the killer comes back? isn't keeping us here the wrong move?'

'what if it's one of the students? they need to question us all. especially those on the same floor.'

you had the same thoughts. but you knew how important the first seventy-two hours of the investigation were. so, for the first three days no one left. every floor of every dorm building was guarded. no one was allowed to move about alone. always in twos or more.

you fidget now, unable to focus on the voice droning from the front of the lecture hall. you raise your eyes to see professor kim, pointing at a slide projected on the screen, explaining something about warrants.

he catches your eye and you immediately shift your focus to his presentation.

it's as if nothing happened. a funeral was held, a memorial erected for kazuha in the lobby of the law building, and eventually, classes resumed.

you've heard whispers that yunjin opted out of university accommodations altogether. no one has seen her since.

"right!" you hear professor kim bellow from the front, clapping his hands together and startling everyone in the lecture hall.

for someone with such an amicably handsome face, professor sunoo kim was a ruthless criminal law instructor. he was particular about punctuality and never entertained any suggestions regarding extra credit. he was, by all accounts, as stiff as a board inside the classroom.

"that's all the time i have for you all today. read up on the cases i gave you because i'll be expecting the digests by thursday," professor kim calls out, gathering his belongings.

a hushed chatter falls over the lecture hall as the students start to leave. there haven't been any memos or reminders put recently regarding the murder but it's still the same. in twos or threes. no one is comfortable moving about alone nowadays.

you start to follow, mindlessly collecting your papers and your laptop, but a figure approaching your desk causes you to stop dead in your tracks.

"________," professor kim's voice glides through your ears smoothly. he smiles down at you as you sink back into your seat.

"hi, professor kim, " you greet, nodding briefly in acknowledgment.

"how have you been doing? you've been uncharacteristically quiet today," professor kim points out.

it's true. you're usually one to participate in discussions, always caught up or ahead on the readings. but with the events of the past days, you couldn't bring yourself to care much about anything.

it's not as if you were particularly close to kazuha. she lived on your floor and you've had small talk with her in the common lounge. nothing ever went beyond polite chatter.

"i think everyone's kind of out of it, professor," you reply. "ever since...you know."

you look up to meet professor kim's eyes and his gaze softens when he realizes what you're referring to. he nods understandingly, watching as the rest of the class files out of the lecture hall.

"and whoever did it is still out there," you say lowly, voice dropping to a whisper.

"i know," professor kim agrees, voice suddenly gruff. you watch as his eyebrows pinch together.

"i've been...looking into it," professor kim continues.

you eye him curiously, your back straightening as professor kim perches himself on the table in front of you. you get a whiff of his perfume; sweet but still subtly masculine.

"the police are on the case, but of course i've worked criminal cases like this before, and with my knowledge of the school and its people...i couldn't help but pry a little," professor kim explains, shifting so he could look at you better from his vantage above you.

"what did you find?" you ask, feeling small under the watchful eye of your professor. he grins down at you, reaching over to squeeze your arm briefly.

"i can't tell you," professor kim deflects. after a few moments, he stands, walking back to his desk now but it's too late. you're intrigued, stomach churning in anticipation.

"you can't or you won't?" you call after him. professor kim stops and glances back at you.

"there's the ________ i know," he says, chuckling. he continues on to his desk, packing up the rest of his things. you watch with steely eyes.

"i don't want any rumors about this. it's a tragic event that has no business being turned into campus gossip that will most likely devolve into some urban legend decades from now," professor kim says pointedly as if berating you. you shake your head, unable to contain your curiosity.

"i won't tell anyone, professor kim, i promise," you implore. you rise from your seat, startling the professor.

he regards you for a moment, eyes traveling down your body and only now do you see professor kim. truly see him.

he towers over you, standing tall at a 5'10 or 5'11 based on your estimates. he dresses crisply, but you don't miss the brightly colored socks beneath his perfectly pressed trousers. you take note of the broad expanse of his upper body underneath the short sleeve button-up he has on.

his face, one that you've looked at two times a week for the past six months, fully came into focus now. striking eyes, a sharp nose, lips that were redder than your own. thicker, too. so thick and plump and always shining with what you could only assume was lip balm.

"sunoo," professor kim says after a moment. "call me sunoo when we're not in class."

you swallow, confused. "sir?"

"wrong," sunoo laughs. "just sunoo, please. i can't be any more than five years older than you."

that, too.

his age. so close to his students' that it's not uncommon for a lot of you to wonder if he'd ever messed around with one of you. you vaguely remember thinking that you wouldn't mind being that person.

"sunoo," you repeat. the name feels foreign on your tongue, as if you're stepping over a boundary you're not supposed to cross.

"okay, sunoo. i promise not to tell anyone what you know about the...the incident."

you catch yourself before you blurt out the word 'murder'. fear grips at you, as if saying the word out loud would bring down bad fortune.

sunoo takes a deep breath, slinging the strap of his messenger bag onto his shoulder. he approaches you again and with you standing, you're relatively eye to eye.

"you know what my consultation hours are. come by right after," sunoo says. you nod and seemingly satisfied, sunoo smiles, walking out the door of the lecture hall.

you linger for a moment before you realize you're all alon. a chill runs up your spine. you dash out of the hall faster than you've ever moved in your life.

---

"they're looking into the professors now. it's kind of fucked up, don't you think?"

you lift your eyes from the book you're reading, regarding your friend in confusion.

"what do you mean 'looking into the professors'?" you ask, scooting closer to hear better.

jake sighs, motioning for your whole table to squeeze in tighter. you scan the library quickly, to see if the coast was clear. your other friends press their shoulders against yours, waiting for jake to reveal what it is he has to say.

"they've cleared most of the students on kazuha's floor. it wasn't one of them." at this, jake turns to you and you nod.

you're brought back to the day after the murder. policemen knocked on everyone's door, questioning and taking witness statements. you had held your roommate's hand the whole time while you were being pressed for answers. you remember crying that night in fear for your own life.

"it only makes sense they widen their search," you supply. "they started with the professors teaching the classes kazuha was taking, correct?"

jake nods. "exactly."

"how is that fucked up?" sunghoon asks from your left, directly across jake. the latter rolls his eyes, tapping the table in mild annoyance.

"think about your own professors. do any of them look like the type to murder you? to want to murder you?" jake says in a whisper-shout. the whole table falls silent, nervous eyes meeting each other.

"no," sunghoon finally answers.

"right?! but what if one of them was capable. we wouldn't know. and if it was one of her professors, i'm sure kazuha suspected nothing, either" jake explains, emphasizing every word with a finger to the table.

you shiver, suddenly overcome with a dreadful fear.

"i need to go," you say, pushing yourself off your chair. you glance at your watch and realize it's time for you to meet sunoo, anyway.

you bid a quick goodbye to everyone before storming out of the library. the hallway seems even chillier than the freezing library. you wrap your arms around you protectively.

---

"you look shaken up. what's wrong?"

you swallow thickly as you shut the door behind you, eyes downcast. your breathing is labored, having run all the way from the library to the building that housed the professor's offices.

you look up to see sunoo standing by his desk, a look of concern on his face. he crosses the room in a few wide strides, fingers gently prying your chin up so you could look at him.

"did you run?" sunoo asks, reaching into his pocket. he hands a handkerchief to you, gesturing at your forehead.

"it's chilly in here. dry off before you get a cold," sunoo advises.

you take the handkerchief, absently dabbing at your forehead. you lean against the heavy wooden door.

"sorry, prof—i mean, sunoo," you begin, trying to steady your breath. "i came from a class and didn't want to miss you here."

sunoo smiles. "i was going to wait for you, anyway."

you meet his eyes but you say nothing, opting to straighten yourself up instead. this is the closest you've been to sunoo, and the way he looks so worried for you nearly threatens a smile out of you.

"you know, we could both get into big trouble for this," sunoo points out, walking back to his desk. he eases himself onto his chair, motioning for you to do the same on one of the two seats provided for his consultees.

you sit, suddenly nervous about what sunoo could possibly have figured out. you watch him rifle through a folder of papers before pulling one out.

"did you know kazuha had a boyfriend?" sunoo begins, setting the paper down and pointing to it. it's a copy of someone's student file.

you lift it to see better and a familiar name is typed at the very top.

yoshi kanemoto.

another post-grad getting his master's in anthropology or some other. part of the post-grad and law school varsity basketball team. he's a friendly enough guy, if just a tad bit shy. he and kazuha haven't been going out long, or so you've heard. you've seen him around your floor a few times and he didn't seem to ring any alarm bells in your head.

"it's always the boyfriend first," you observe.

when violent crimes against women are committed, the first place law enforcement looks into is any present or past relationships.

"accomplished young man, if i do say so myself," sunoo declares. "totally cooperative and was said to be devastated with the news."

"but...?" you ask, anticipating a caveat with the positive introduction.

"reports say they were fighting the night of the murder," sunoo expounds, shrugging.

"was there ever a history of violence? abuse?" you question.

sunoo shakes his head. "none that i've heard. but i was trying to pull some strings at the detective's office the other day. i guess i pulled one that put this whole thing into perspective."

you suck in a breath. "what did you find?"

there was a pause. sunoo purses his lips, exhaling.

"kazuha was nine weeks pregnant when she was killed."

you blink. it takes you a moment to realize what you just heard. you fall back against your chair, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. the hairs on your arm prickle.

"so...you think the fight was because of that. a-and yoshi killed her to get out of the responsibility?" you ask, voice trembling.

sunoo shrugs again. "maybe. maybe not. but it definitely puts kanemoto in a bad light."

you don't say anything, a weight in your chest rendering you speechless. you and sunoo sit in silence for nearly a minute, with sunoo carefully studying your expression.

"no one else knows this. only the detectives and me. and now, you," sunoo informs. "so, i need you to be very quiet about this."

"of course," you immediately agree. "i won't tell a soul."

sunoo smiles sympathetically, pushing himself off his chair. he comes around the desk, moving to sit across from you. he holds his hand out to you, waiting.

you place your hand in his, relaxing as he runs a thumb over your knuckles.

"i'm sorry for dragging you into this," sunoo says, patting the top of your hand with his other one. "but when my top student asks, it's hard to refuse."

you laugh at this, eyes landing on your clasped hands.

"thank you for entertaining my...unusual request," you say, chuckling lightly.

"anything else you've discovered?" you ask, averting your eyes to the papers on sunoo's desk.

"if...i'm allowed to ask," you add, peering back at sunoo momentarily.

sunoo hums, reaching over to the scattered papers on his desk.

"yunjin is taking the rest of semester off, i hear," sunoo says, idly toying with the files.

"smart move," he adds.

you nod, throat thick once again with uncertainty. you stand, pulling your hand away, much to sunoo's surprise.

"leaving so soon?" sunoo questions. you smile, nodding politely.

"it's getting late and i don't really trust the campus nowadays after dark," you reason.

sunoo nods. he gestures for the door and you follow.

"let me walk you to your dorm, then," sunoo offers, smiling. a flash of something passes his eyes and you recognize it as hesitance.

"you don't have to," you automatically answer. you pause, realizing that you'd be walking alone at dusk through paths and hallways where a killer may have potentially walked.

the thought alone fills you with a visceral fear.

"i know," sunoo agrees. he hurriedly rushes to his desk, grabs his phone and keys before returning to your side.

"and i totally understand if you don't want me to, but i would feel much more at ease if i did," sunoo says, eyes pleading.

you nod, already reaching for the knob. "alright."

sunoo seems relieved as the two of you walk out of his office. he locks it before you start your way down the hall.

the journey is quiet, with sunoo's hands in his pockets and yours clasped tightly around the strap of your book bag. the night is chilly as you cross the courtyard to get to your dorm building, with barely anyone out at this hour. the walkways are lighted up to the extreme, illuminating every corner of the campus that the beams of light can reach.

you arrive at the entrance to your building and sunoo turns to you.

"now i can go to bed later tonight without any worry," sunoo says with a smile, eyes shaping into crescents. you can't help but grin back.

"please be careful on your way back," you remind. "and go straight home, if you can."

sunoo chuckles, reaching over to lay a hand on your arm. you inhale, the warmth from his palm bleeding through your thin sweater.

"i will," sunoo reassures. "i'll see you thursday, okay?"

you reach up shakily to grasp sunoo's outstretched arm, your own fingers curling around it.

"i'll see you."

---

somewhere, in a shadowy corner behind a bundle of brush, the figure stands, unmoving. concealed by the darkness, he watches through the windows, etching onto his mind the little details.

someone is playing the guitar next to an open window, puffing out smoke despite the building's prohibition on any narcotic substance. someone else is reading, the thick tome in their lap illuminated by a nearby lamp.

and someone else is merely looking out into the night sky. a pretty bundle of hair on their head billowing in the soft breeze. they seem nervous, shaken. lines appear between their eyebrows. like they're deep in thought.

the figure in the dark watches the thinker a little bit more, entranced by their beauty. eventually, they're satisfied. they stalk off into the night, the image of that one person's hair burned into the back of their eyelids.

---

"now, i understand midterms are coming up so i need you to be more attentive with your grades," sunoo eyes the lecture hall, staring pointedly at everyone's faces.

"don't wait until finals to scramble for that passing grade. i try to be gracious, but it's not a free-for-all," he continues. sunoo closes his laptop and the screen behind him goes black.

"remember, pre-test next week. you have tomorrow, the weekend, and monday to study," sunoo says with an air of finality.

"you may leave," he concludes with a wave of his hand. the room lets out a collective breath.

a few students stay behind as the rest trickle out of the doors, hounding sunoo with questions. he answers, face stoic and eyes focused as he gives curt, direct answers.

you stand from your seat, hovering around your desk, unsure when the others would leave. finally, they seem satisfied enough with their ambush on sunoo and they walk off, letting the door slam behind them.

sunoo spots you and his expression brightens. he beckons you over and you approach him, watching his slender fingers work on the stacks of paper in front of him.

"i must say, i'm excited to read your digest later tonight," sunoo admits, a bashful look in his eyes.

you laugh. "who gets excited to read a case digest?"

"i do," sunoo responds abruptly. "only when it comes to yours, though. you're always thorough, including all the details but organizing them in a way that's quick and easy to understand."

"that is an impressive feat, _______," he adds.

you feel your face heat up, your stomach giving way as if falling to the floor beneath you.

"you give me too much credit," you answer meekly, avoiding sunoo's eyes.

"you're a talented student. and i'm sure you'd be a talented lawyer eventually," sunoo reassures, shrugging on his bag. he steps in front of you.

"do you have a class after this?" sunoo asks. you shake your head 'no'.

sunoo nods, eyes trailing off to the side momentarily, as if pondering on something. he turns back to look at you, his signature bright smile returning.

"do you want to grab a bite together?"

you're taken aback by sunoo's offer, unsure what to do or say. the automatic response making its way up was a polite refusal. but sunoo has done you a favor and you think that this might be him asking for something back.

"are you sure?" is what you opt to say. sunoo's eyes narrow but he's smirking, as if this wasn't what he was expecting you to say.

"yes, i'm sure," sunoo replies. "don't worry about all that ethical stuff. i'm only taking you out for coffee and some snacks. besides, we're done with my class now, aren't we? i'm just plain old sunoo to you."

you giggle. "you could never be plain to me."

sunoo's head bows, his cheeks rounding even more as a blush creeps onto his face. you watch, amused, as sunoo obstructs half of his face with his hand.

"just say yes, _______," sunoo says from behind his hand.

you laugh fully this time, noticing as sunoo's ears turn red as well.

"alright, yes. i'd love a coffee with you."

---

the campus cafe stays open until midnight on most days, but since the incident, they've bumped it down to 9 pm.

it's now 8:30 and no one else was at the cafe but you and sunoo, seated at a booth tucked away near the back. the baristas have started to discreetly clean up for the night, emptying the pastry case little by little, but neither you nor sunoo had the heart to suggest leaving.

"that's some gnarly stuff," you comment as you try to digest the story sunoo had just told you about one case he worked on recently involving one woman literally stealing another woman's baby from her womb.

"it was sad overall," sunoo counters, leaning back in his chair from across you. you feel his legs shift against yours and a shiver runs up your spine.

at some point during the hours you've spent talking, sunoo had managed to sandwich your leg between both of his under the table. he held it there, rubbing against your ankle from time to time with his own, like your very own version of footsie.

"the trauma the actual mother got from it was unimaginable. and as for the woman who took her baby away from her, it was clear that she was not right in the right state of mind. those around her refused to see it as that and withheld proper care for her," sunoo recounts, staring directly into your eyes.

his brown irises seem brighter under the yellow-tinged light of the cafe, dancing with something you can't quite put your finger on.

before you could say anything in response, sunoo reaches over the table to where your hand rests. he takes it in his, slowly intertwining your fingers together.

your heart hammers against your chest. sunoo is still looking at you, silent, but a thousand words poring from his intense gaze.

"i'm parked not far from here and my apartment's just a short drive away," sunoo begins, his thumb drawing patterns onto your palm.

your eyebrows raise, your chest heaving as you take deeper breaths. your body seems to seize up.

is this really happening?

"gonna tell me more about your cases, professor?" you ask, purposely taking up his title again in conversation.

sunoo smiles knowingly, digging the nail on his thumb a little deeper into your palm. your breath hitches and you nearly quiver.

"i can. but i'd like to know more about the stories you have to tell if that's okay," sunoo says, rubbing over the little crescent-shaped dent he made.

"what do you want to know?" you question, raising an eyebrow.

sunoo grins.

"everything."

---

true to his word, sunoo seems to want to know everything.

everything about your body, that is. but he reasons that your body can tell a million different stories about yourself, too.

"like how you like being kissed," sunoo says, pulling away momentarily from your lips as he slams the front door shut behind him.

he presses his mouth against yours once more and you groan, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt. sunoo slips his hands under your own blouse, nails dragging down your back as he guides you to the couch.

sunoo distances himself again, kissing down your neck, still clawing at your back. you squirm, whimpering pathetically.

"your body can tell me what your pain tolerance is," sunoo whispers lowly next to your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth.

"and i have a feeling it's pretty high, sweetheart."

you moan, pressing yourself closer to sunoo. he retaliates by shoving you down onto the sofa. your hair is a mess, your blouse skewed and wrinkled on your body.

"it is," you confirm, quickly pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor.

sunoo bites his lip, fingers working deftly on his belt. he gets it undone and hurriedly unbuttons and unzips his pants, pulling it down along with his underwear.

"show me," sunoo commands, reaching down to grab your jaw, lining your face up with his half-hard cock.

you sit up, grabbing onto sunoo's firm thighs with one hand to steady yourself. you grab the base of sunoo's cock in the other, pumping slowly. gathering spit in your mouth, you envelop sunoo's length with your mouth, a hiss escaping the man standing above you.

"god, that mouth," sunoo begins, threading his fingers through your hair. "i knew it did more than give me the right answers in class."

you moan around him, peering up at sunoo through your lashes. sunoo's eyes darken as he watches you take more of him, going down all the way to the very base.

you pull back, coughing. sunoo tugs you closer by the hair and you yelp in surprise.

"come on, i know you can do better," sunoo urges.

you wrap your lips around sunoo again, sucking in hard. you start to move, bobbing up and down, taking more and more of sunoo in as you go. he doesn't shy away from noise, moaning and groaning as you repeatedly let his tip hit the back of your throat.

"fuck," sunoo mutters, yanking you off him.

"bend over the back of the couch, baby. keep that cute skirt on."

you wipe the spit from your chin, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. despite your debauched appearance, looking as if close to crying, the wetness between your legs is undeniable. you reach down to pull your panties off, and a dark spot is clearly visible on the fabric.

sunoo takes it from you, grabbing your chin.

"open," sunoo says. you oblige, letting your jaw fall slack. he shoves your panties in your waiting mouth and you gasp in surprise. the sound muffles around the damp cloth.

"bend over," sunoo barks. "don't make me repeat myself."

you lean over the back of the couch, sticking your hips out as far as they would go. you hear sunoo give a sound of satisfaction, his hands moving your skirt up further your body and exposing your ass and drenched pussy.

without a word of warning, sunoo plunges in half of himself and you cry out. you breathe through your nose, your underwear constricting any airflow through your mouth.

sunoo eases the rest of his way in and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

'yes! god yes! feels so good, sunoo!' is what you want to say but it comes out a garbled mess.

sunoo starts moving, shallow at first, as if pacing himself. slowly, he moves more and more of him out of your pussy before roughly thrusting back in. eventually, he finds a suitable rhythm, his hands gripping at your waist tightly.

"feels amazing," sunoo compliments. "my favorite student. so good for me, so obedient, always doing what i tell her to do."

you whine, looking back at sunoo. you'd give anything to see his face up close at this moment.

sunoo leans down, kissing your temple. he reaches in front of you, pulling the panties from your mouth. drool drips from your lips and you sob in embarrassment.

"dirty," sunoo comments disapprovingly. "drooling all over my couch like some whore."

"i-i'm your whore," you croak out weakly. despite the wetness in your mouth, your throat had seemingly dried up.

sunoo seems impressed by this, chuckling darkly. "yeah? you're my whore? mine to use?"

you nod, moaning wantonly as you feel sunoo deliver a particularly hard thrust.

"yes. d-do anything to me, please," you continue. sunoo grunts, movements speeding up.

your head spins, a knot in your abdomen tightening with each drag of sunoo's cock against your walls. you press your face against the couch, sunoo's name falling from your mouth like a mantra.

"gonna cum? gonna cum all over my cock?" sunoo taunts, pressing his chest against your back.

"yes," is all you can reply. sunoo' bites into your shoulder and you shudder, the sting adding to the sensations coursing through your whole body.

"me too," sunoo says. "gonna pump this pussy with my cum."

you whimper pathetically and this eggs sunoo on. his thrusts turn erratic and you're thrown into another level of pleasure.

"sunoo, i-i'm—!"

your sentence is cut off as your orgasm rocks through your whole body, a high-pitched moan echoing off sunoo's apartment walls. he continues to stretch you out, despite the sensitivity, chasing his own high.

"just like that, sweetheart, so tight, so goddamn tight," sunoo chants. a moment later, he shudders, finishing deep inside you, his whole cock buried in your pulsating hole.

soft whimpers continuously escape you, too dazed to form a coherent sentence. sunoo pulls out moments later, replacing his length with two of his fingers. you protest but it falls on deaf ears.

"i know sweetheart, i know," sunoo coos, kissing down the expanse of your back. you slump against the sofa, weak and panting.

sunoo gently moves you to face him, a soft smile on his face, a total contrast to the filthy act you just participated in.

"feel good?" sunoo asks, kissing your nose.

you nod, eyes suddenly heavy. "s'good."

sunoo chuckles, wrapping his arms around you.

"come on, we need to get you cleaned up."

---

the figure observes through glass tonight.

some of the thinker's hair is pinned up, the other half of it flowing down their shoulders. they laugh at a joke.

the thinker's phone goes off. the figure in the dark gives a start, fingertips tingling in excitement.

the figure slinks back into the shadow.

the thinker will finally be theirs.

---

"they made an arrest today."

you look up nervously from your phone, having just read the local news reports.

"the boyfriend, right?" sunghoon continues, holding his own phone up for everyone to see.

just as he says this, the rest of the bar's chatter slowly turns grim and quiet as patrons, mostly students from your university, discover the new development in kazuha's case through their own social media.

"she was pregnant," jake says in disbelief, eyes glued to his screen.

"he probably thought getting rid of them was the easiest way out," sunghoon deduces.

"but on campus? by stabbing her?" you counter. "he could have gone about this differently."

"maybe he panicked," jake offers. "or wasn't thinking straight."

"they're still going to put him on trial so he still has a chance to be proven innocent," sunghoon says.

you shake your head, leaning back in your seat. "i'm not convinced, is all."

jake snickers. "you have a better theory, ms. law student?"

you give him a look and jake holds his hands up in defeat. your phone suddenly vibrates on the table, momentarily distracting you. picking it up, you see a notification.

you're at paradoxx bar right?

you suppress a smile, realizing it's a text from sunoo. you type out a reply confirming your location and he responds just as quickly.

come meet me outside for a bit? i'm in the alley out back.

you take a quick glance around the table at your friends, but it seems as if jake and sunghoon were engaged in another topic. you pocket your phone, clearing your throat.

"i'm gonna go meet a friend real quick outside if you don't mind. i'll be back before you know it," you say, sliding out of your seat, ignoring the curious looks from your jake and sunghoon.

"want us to come with you?" sunghoon asks.

you wave him off. "i'll be fine. it's a busy night. lots of witnesses."

jake snickers at this but a look of discomfort washes over sunghoon's face. you pat his back reassuringly.

"i won't be long, i promise," you say, already walking away.

you exit the bar and the wind immediately whips your hair around. you sweep it out of your face, making your way to the alley between the bar and the building beside it, the designated smoking spot for the bar patrons or any other people passing by.

you're startled to see that it's completely empty. worrying for sunoo, you rush the rest of the way, footsteps bouncing off the walls.

"sunoo?" you call out as you round the corner.

true enough, your criminal law professor is standing there, partially concealed by the shadows, but you'd know that strikingly pale face from a mile away.

"hey," he responds, stepping fully into the glow of the bar's back door light, the only source of illumination in this little corner. he's wearing a black hoodie and black jeans, making him look younger, possibly passing as a student himself.

"i missed you," sunoo whispers just as you step into his arms. he pulls you into an embrace, kissing the top of your head.

"we saw each other at class earlier," you point out, beaming up at him. sunoo chuckles, leaning down to kiss you square on the mouth this time.

he pulls away barely an inch, your noses still touching. his breath fans against your face.

"yeah, but i missed you," sunoo reiterates.

your mind flashes back to the night in his apartment, yet to be repeated. a fire ignites in you at the thought of having sunoo to yourself like that a second time.

"so much that we're agreeing to meet behind dingy bars now?" you tease, kissing a spot on sunoo's jaw.

sunoo hums, a large hand resting loosely around your neck. his grip tightens and you gasp softly, the first hints of arousal appearing within your core.

"exactly," sunoo responds.

you laugh lightly as sunoo backs you up against the bar's back wall, a knee pressing between your legs.

"here? really?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice. you wanted to berate him playfully for his choice of a quickie location but his hand around your neck tightens even more.

"s-sunoo—"

sunoo clamps down even harder on your throat and your eyes grow wide. you open your mouth to utter something, a safeword, but you belatedly realize you don't have one. not with sunoo.

"yes, here," sunoo confirms, smiling sweetly. you shake your head, tapping rapidly on his arm to signal that no, you need to stop.

but sunoo digs his fingers deeper into your skin. you gasp, but no sound comes out. your head starts to feel light and that's when you see sunoo pull something out of his back pocket.

the smooth glide of metal against metal reaches your ears. a moment later, you feel a sharp prick on your side.

a switchblade.

"do you get it yet?" sunoo asks, looking down at you with the same look he gave you whenever he asks a question in class. as if quizzing you on details of a case.

"i am the same height as kazuha's boyfriend," sunoo begins, piercing your torso deeper.

you tremble. you feel the urge to throw up.

"he doesn't dress a particular way, either. a mask, a hoodie with the hood up, and plain pants would do it. any camera that would have captured me going in and out of her room would have been fooled."

you claw at his arm now, frantically swiping at any part of him that you can reach, but you know that the oxygen is rapidly decreasing in your body, rendering you weak.

"you want to ask me 'how?'. 'why?'" sunoo continues. you wrap your hands around sunoo's arm that's holding you down instead, scared that any more movement would lead to the knife plunging even deeper into you.

"she was my closest colleague's student," sunoo says. "i saw her exit his office one time and i thought she was the prettiest thing i've ever laid eyes on."

"after you, of course," sunoo adds, kissing your cheek. you jerk away but pain shoots through your head.

you're losing too much air.

"it wasn't hard for me to gather enough information about her. you saw how easily i could weasel information out of the police. the university registrar is a walk in the park," sunoo explains with an amused laugh.

"now, why did i do it?" sunoo repeats. he smiles, placing another, longer kiss to the side of your mouth.

"just because."

what follows next is a blur to you.

you feel pain rip through your torso and you feel it repeatedly, over and over and over again. you want to scream. you have to scream.

but you can't.

the damp ground greets you like an old friend, slamming into you as you fall. there's a pain in your face as you lie facedown, in your head, too, but nothing compares to the burning you feel in your stomach, climbing up and down and all around all at once.

the pain disappears moments later, replaced by a dull, numbing throb. you feel cold but warm at the same time.

you feel sleepy.

you hear footsteps fading somewhere behind you but you don't give them any mind.

at this point, you just want to sleep.

the wind blows. your hair flutters one last time.

and then, you sleep.

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #sunoo smut #sunoo scenarios #w: sunoo

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sky-kiss · 5 months

Note

Imagine Raphael giving you to Haarlep to cycle between edging and overstim for a day + aftercare. The next day Raphael puts you in suspension bondage and occasionally walks up while he is reading to play with your still raw and over sensitive clit/cock.

Plucking, stroking, teasing until your voice breaks. Then he walks away, licking his fingers.

A/N: I MEAN. HERE’S THE THING. Nothing I write is going to be able to touch that. But I will try. Hopefully you like it. Hiding sin under gif.

Raph x Haarlep x Reader (GN): HAHA I'M IN DANGER

___

He gives you to Haarlep to "rest."

Of course, he smiles as he says it, eyes glittering specks of hellfire. He waves you away with a small smile and a pat on the ass. Raphael's good little toy, obedient and deserving a touch of kindness after hours at the devil's mercy. Every muscle in your body aches in the most delicious way, fingerprints emblazoned across your hips, shallow abrasions across your belly. Your throat is a ruin of kiss-sucked bruises. Precisely how he likes you, his pretty canvas.

But you're tired. You need the rest. Haarlep coos to you, hands feathering over your hair. They touch and tease, massaging out the aching muscles in your lower back. The incubus always promises you the sweetest things, a whisper of affection as they settle between your thighs.

It's "rest" only in the loosest sense of the word. You whine, hands clenching in the sheets. Sometimes, it's their mouth on you. It's an irresistible game, building you to a dizzying high only to pull back and leaving you wanting and cold. Up and up until you're left raw, a live wire sparking in the overheated air. You beg them to let you come.

Haarlep always agrees. But a devil's acquiescence is rarely without cost. They stuff you full of cock, riding you until you're too hoarse to scream. They order you to come for them, laughing, bright, loud, and cruel. A hand fists in your hair, turning your face into the mattress.

"Oh, my love, you asked for this, no?" He leans over you, licking up your spine. "Begged to come. Called me cruel! Wicked Haarlep!" You whimper. His right-hand snakes around your throat, squeezing and pulling you back against his chest. The incubus nips the shell of your ear, dragging the lobe between his teeth. "Scream for me, won't you? You can still do that much."

You try. They make sure you try. But Haarlep is an industrious creature capable of making their own entertainment. After they've come, they flip you onto your back, moving you like their little doll. It's back to teeth and tongue, licking his mess clean, stroking you. It's too much. Pleasure and heat, spiraling until you think you'll black out.

And the sweetest thing is that whenever you awaken, Haarlep is there, still toying with your body—building and breaking, building and breaking, over and over.

One of them must hang you. You don't remember, blissed out, boneless. Raphael loves to display you like this: hanging near his desk, an art piece to observe at his leisure. The chains chafe a little, but you know that irritation will be dealt with after. For now, you enjoy the reprieve. There are no hands on you for the first time in what feels like days.

"Did you enjoy your reprieve, mouse?" Raphael smiles at you, almost gentle, almost fond. There are so many possibilities, and your brain is too addled to parse any of them. He leans back in his seat, hands folded over his belly. "Haarlep lamented your performance. Uninspired, they called it." The cambion chuckles at this, humming. "But the results."

He holds his arms out wide, smirking. Yes, the results- your ruination. Your head sags forward, chin resting on your chest. Raphael crosses the room, hooking a finger under your chin. The devil groans, kissing you deeply. His tongue presses past the seam of your lips, tasting you, dancing but not demanding.

A contrast to the way he touches you. He doesn't build you to an orgasm; he wrenches it from your exhausted body, the touch stinging against your overstimulated flesh. You whimper into his mouth, twisting to take more, to get closer, to relieve the pressure in your wrists. He tuts. Raphael kisses your nose, your chin, your mouth.

"Now, now, you know the game, mouse. Be very good, and we'll let you down early. For now…relax. Simple…be yourself."

He pats your stomach and returns to his reading, brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

#bg3 raphael #haarlep #raphael x reader #haarlep x reader #raphael x tav #asks #bg3 smut #That's the last one for the day #will do the other prompts tomorrow #thank you all

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seeingivy · 10 months

Text

how to fly

satoru gojo x f!reader

content: fear of heights + stairs. reader calls satoru the worlds strongest cunt and satoru's a little bitch but also kind of a lil sweetie. megumi + tsumiki kiddos too :))

an: based on a request I received from @luna0713hunter I hope you like it sweetie pie!!!

request: satoru helping reader get over a fear of heights/stairs

You love Satoru Gojo. Your partner in crime - since you were mission partners during your first year at Jujutsu Tech and now partners in everything else, that mattered anyways. Life, love, two very grumpy pre-teens. What’s not to love?

His affinity for being a little bitch.

He’s currently sitting on the porch of your tiny town house, ankles danglinging off the black tiles. His back is pressed against the angled roof, resembling the black cat that often sunbathes in your shared lawn.

You grab one of the sticks from the yard and throw it up, catching his attention. At the stick making contact with his face, he sits up, rubbing the now pink spot on his forehead.

“Ouch, sweetheart. You could have just hollered for me.”

“Get off. Now. We have to go pick up Megumi from school.”

“No, I love you? No light of my life, father of my children-”

“We don’t have children.”

“Yes, we do!” “They’re not our biological children, asshat. Can you just come down now? Please?”

You can feel it - the itching in your throat, the sweating in your palms, pins and needles burning in your stomach. Satoru’s just so, so high and just so, so close to the edge that even the sight of him makes you sick.

Logically, rationally - Satoru Gojo is the strongest. A fall from a few feet high wouldn’t hurt him and knowing him, he’d take it as an opportunity to start doing some next level gymnastics to show off to the old lady who lives across the street.

But fears aren’t logical or rational. Because in your heart of hearts, you know that Satoru will be okay if he falls. And you’ll be okay walking up and down the stairs and Satoru trying to take you on a date to the tallest building he can find so you two can get a view of the city would actually be very, very romantic.

But it isn’t. Not for you anyway. Because that sinking feeling, that chill down your spine returns every time he brings it up.

Logically, rationally - Satoru’s your partner, you’ve been together in everything since you were fifteen. A mere fear like this should be nothing when you've shared almost everything with him.

But it feels silly to tell him that you’re scared of heights when you two basically dance with death every time you leave the house. You’ve hung upside down in curses mouths, literally been stuck in the most harrowing of situations, but free suspension in the air is what gets you.

“Asshat? You wound me, doll. Now you have to come here and kiss it better.”

You can feel your eyes nearly boggle out of your sockets as you look up at him, smirking down at you. His blindfold is hanging loose around his neck - a habit of his whenever he’s around you. He just knows that his pretty blue eyes can make you do almost anything he wants, even climb onto a fucking roof to kiss him.

“Satoru. It’s almost ten past three. Megumi gets upset whenever we’re late.”

“Then make it quick! Climb up here and give me a little kiss and we can leave.”

You love Satoru Gojo. And you really, really hate his affinity for being a little bitch.

“How do I get up there? I'm not the world’s strongest cunt like you.”

“That’s two kisses now, pretty girl. And there’s a ladder up the side.”

You feel your knees wobble as you walk over, a silver, very rickety-looking ladder, mind you, propped up against the door.

You close your eyes, uncurling and curling your balls out of their little fists as you brace yourself to go get him. It’s just a ladder. It’s just a few steps, and then you’ll be on the roof, which is plenty safe. And Satoru’s right there. Nothing can happen to you if he’s right next to you and-

“Whatcha doing, Y/N?”

You look up to find Satoru’s little tufts of white hair peeking down at you, a glimmering smile still pressed on his face.

“Praying to the gods. Hoping they can make you less of an idiot."

“Three kisses now, my sweet. Quit insulting me!”

You shakily put your hands on the first rungs, your hands so clammy and sweaty that you can feel your grip shaking. He’s still watching you - rather laxly though since he’s literally on the phone with Ijichi.

“Yeah, yeah. You might have to go get Megumi. Y/N is taking forever on her ladder.”

“Well, I asked her to go on it. She has to come give me three kisses for insulting me before we leave to get him.”

“No, I am not messing with her and fine, we’ll go get him if you’re so busy.”

He clicks his phone off, shuffling around on the roof as he puts it back in his pocket. You’re nearly halfway there, your stomach a horrible mess of knots and the tears burning in your eyes.

When you reach the top, Satoru holds one hand out to you, which you begrudgingly take as you try your best to plant your feet on the ladder.

Don’t think about it shaking. Don’t think about falling back. Don’t think about the ladder breaking.

His face is a few feet away from yours, the smile on his face spread wide. You’re trying your best to blink away your tears, nearly heaving in front of him.

“Hi princess.”

“Satoru.”

“That’s a total of three kisses for me. For asshat, world’s strongest cunt, and praying for the gods to fix me. You should know by now that this problem is unfixable.”

“Evidently.”

“Four now, baby.”

You roll your eyes as you lean forward, pressing two kisses to each of his cheeks, one on his forehead, and a peck on his lips. You pull back quickly, getting ready to get the fuck off this ladder so fast, but he pulls forward, basically hanging his torso off the roof as he grabs your face, locking your lips together again. When he pulls apart, he’s smiling at you like there’s no tomorrow and the panic in your stomach is so bad that you want to vomit off the side of the roof.

“Let’s go get ‘Gumi. He’s probably pissed already.”

You lean against the cold glass, trying to soothe your headache as you watch Satoru harass Megumi in the pick-up area, a very horrible habit he had. Satoru, the charismatic freak he was, loves to talk to all of Megumi’s little friends, much to Megumi’s dismay.

He’s currently hanging Itadori and Megumi both by their ankles, swinging them around in the air, as they wait for Itadori’s grandpa sick. Even the sight of them, the tiniest bit above the ground makes you nauseous, making you hold your head between your knees.

You keep your head there for what feels like an hour and you know the two of them have returned when you can hear Satoru’s teasing and Megumi’s protests.

“Satoru. You’re so embarrassing.”

“Aw, Megumi-chan. Don’t talk like that to your father.”

“You’re not his father.”

“You’re not my father.”

You lift your head up to give Megumi a smile through a rear-view mirror, which he acknowledges with a nod when Satoru starts driving. Satoru mindlessly reaches over, locking his hands with yours as he talks to Megumi. The softness of his hand is comforting and you crack each of the knuckles on his hand, as you listen to Satoru and Megumi bicker.

When you reach home, Megumi running off into the house to pee, while you find Tsumiki home from her class, lying down across the porch. You lean against the back of the car as Satoru grabs Megumi’s backpack and joining you at your side.

“You okay, love?”

“Yeah, Toru. Why?”

“No reason. You were cracking my knuckles in the car. You only do that when you used to get all…anxious, when we started doing missions.”

“Oh. That was just retribution for earlier. You can be really annoying.”

“That’s one kiss for m-”

“No.”

He pouts as he drops Megumi’s backpack onto the curb, snaking his hands against your waist as he smirks at you. You can feel your heart drop in your chest as you realize what Satoru’s about to do.

“Wait, Toru don’t-”

You pinch your eyes shut as you feel the cold air and Satoru laughing in your ear. You can feel that there’s no ground beneath your feet and knowing Satoru fucking Gojo, he’s probably suspened the two of you so high in the air that you’ll vomit if you open your eyes.

“Open your eyes.”

You shake your head blindly, clinging on for dear life as you wrap your arms around Satoru’s neck and your legs around his waist.

“Sweetheart, this is kind of kink-”

“Satoru. Please, please put me down.”

“Where’s the fun in that? Look down, Megumi and Tsumiki look like little ants looking up at us.”

Little ants. Meaning your two tiny little pre-teens are so far that they look like ants. That you can’t even make their faces out. Meaning, Satoru took you so fucking high that you can barely even see people standing on the ground. You clench harder on his shirt, burying your forehead into his neck as you try to focus on his senses.

His smell, the feel of his hair in your hands, and the sound of his voice. Granted the latter isn’t quite helping when he’s telling you how high you fucking are and his stupid hands are the reason you’re in this situation, you try your best to stop it. Stop crying, stop panting, stop freaking out.

The second you sniffle, you hear all of the joking leave Satoru’s voice.

“Hey, sweetheart are you crying?”

You choke back your own tears, your voice breaking as you respond.

“N-no, Toru. Please put me down.”

“Love, hey. I’ll take you down right now, I’m sorry.”

You’re not sure when you feel your feet back on the ground, but you’re still clutching onto Satoru for dear life when you hit the curb. You’re only cognizant of the fact when Tsumiki and Megumi wrap their arms around your legs, their soft voices asking you if you’re okay.

You open your eyes to find the three of them with matching, concerned looks on their faces, Satoru’s jaw tight against his mouth. Tsumiki tugs on the bottom of your pants, her brown eyes staring back up at you.

“Do you want to eat ice cream, now?”

“Sure, Miki. Let’s go.”

She holds her hand out, leading you back into the house as you wipe away your tears, with Satour and Megumi following. You can hear the two of them bickering behind you, your head pounding too hard and your breaths too uneven that you can’t tell them to stop.

“What did you do, Satoru?”

“Nothing, ‘Gumi! I was just showing her the view.”

“One day, when she leaves you, I’m going to go with her.”

“Gumi.”

You sit down at the kitchen table, Megumi at your side as Tsumiki and Satoru grab the industrial tub of chocolate ice cream Satoru bought last week. You feel Megumi link his fingers with yours under the table, giving your fingers a squeeze as you press your head against the table.

You’re on the ground. You’re okay. You can’t fall because there’s nowhere to fall and you’re sitting at the kitchen table. Satoru’s here so you’ll be okay and nothing can happen.

You feel Satoru’s hands in your hair and you look up to find that he’s evicted a very-annoyed Megumi from his seat next to you. There’s four spoons on the table and the ice cream open. You reach forward first, the cooling sensation and Satoru next to you soothing the panic in your chest, the needles and pins in your stomach less strong.

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Yes, Miki. Thank you for the ice cream, sweet girl.”

She gives you a soft smile as the four of you eat the ice cream in silence, your breathing slowing down as you finish.

Megumi and Tsumiki run off after your little ice cream snack, the sun dipping into the horizon as you look out the window. Satoru’s in the kitchen, making Megumi and Tsumiki’s lunches for tomorrow.

No stairs today. You reach for the spare cabinet in the living room as pull out a pair of pillows and blankets for the night.

On most days, the stairs up to your bedroom are manageable. But after today - your entire foundation is off. Even one step up, and you know you’ll have a full-blown panic if you even try to get up there. You hear Satoru drop the spoon he was holding as he gives you a spare glance, the stack of pillows and blankets in your hand.

You watch his expression drop as he walks over to you, taking the pillows from your hands so he can hold you.

“Love. Are you really that upset with me that you’re going to sleep on the couch?”

“Satoru, I-”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I just wanted to show you how the city looked and I don’t know what I did wrong but-”

“It’s not that, it’s just-”

“You mean the world to me. I would never want to make you upset so please don’t sleep downstairs today. We can talk about it, you can slap me, but just-”

“Gojo.”

He’s quiet at the sound of his family name, nervous blue eyes peering into yours as he holds your hands. It’s his turn to shake, his usual smiley face so sad it makes you squelch. One thing you love about Satoru?

His love for others.

“Satoru. I’m not…mad at you. I just…can’t go upstairs.”

You watch his confusion spread across his face as he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before you keep talking.

“I…can’t. The stairs- and getting up there, it’s just…too much.”

“The stairs, sweet? What’s wrong with the stairs?”

“It’s not just the stairs. It’s the ladder and you hanging Megumi and Itadori in the air and sitting on the roof and taking me in the air and-”

“Y/N. Are you…scared of it? The stairs?”

You swallow hard as you press your head against his chest, your cheeks burning at the admission.

“Yes. And heights. And I know it’s stupid because we literally fight curses all the time and-”

“It’s not stupid.”

“It is and I don’t want to be scared of it, but I just…I just can’t help it, Satoru. It makes me panic, I want to throw up, and my hands get all sweaty-”

Satoru pulls his arms around your waist as he holds you up, crushing you in one of his warm hugs. You can hear him whispering against your ear, tears lightly flowing as he tells you it’s okay. The two of you stand there for a while, Satoru’s head pressed against your shoulder, his embrace warm.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes, Satoru?”

“Can I…help you? You don’t have to be scared of this and I don’t want you to feel this way. I’ll walk you through it, slowly. You know I’d never let anything happen to you and I-”

You squeeze him hard, your chest burning at how sweet he can be.

“Please? But, can we start tomorrow? I just…need a day.”

“Yes, silly girl. We can start next year if we have to. Just let me sleep on the couch with you.”

“Not big enough, Toru.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor. Just lean your hand over the couch so I can hold it.”

“Okay.”

You and Satoru are standing on the lawn, three days later. Megumi and Tsumiki are lying on the porch, sunbathing like Satoru did on the roof a few days ago. They’re fully equipped - with ice cream, puke bags, and three different self-help books Satoru bought to help you get over your fear.

He’s so stupid, it’s cute.

“Okay, my sweet. I think you’re ready. Just a little bit in the air okay? I’ll take you up and just open your eyes. If you freak out too much, tell me and I’ll take you down.”

“Okay.”

Satoru snakes his hands arond your waist and squeezes, which immediately elicits a scream from you. You can hear Megumi and Tsumiki’s groans the second you stop, tiny little “you can’t be serious” and a “there’s no way” from the two of them.

“Princess.”

“What? How high are we? Oh my god, Toru- I’m going to vomit. I hate you. You’re stupid.”

“We haven’t even left the ground yet.”

You look down to find you and Satoru’s feet planted firmly on the ground and then look back up to find Satoru laughing at you. You flick the top of his forehead, rolling your eyes at him in response.

“You’re mean, Satoru.”

“You’re so silly, sweet girl. We haven’t even moved yet!”

“Well, screw you. You squeezed so I thought that we did!”

“I was just trying to reassure you.”

“Well, you’re stupid.”

“That’s two kisses for you~~” he sings, eyes gliting into yours.

“No.”

Slowly but surely, your fear of heights and the stairs starts to fly away. The pins and needles are little pinpricks now and every time the fear rises up in you, Satoru - his soft voice and warm hands - are always there to will it down.

Three months later, Satoru takes you to fly.

And you actually enjoy it.

taglist: @porridgesblog

lmk if you want to be part of my jjk or permanent taglist by replying to this post or any of my writing :DD

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oliversrarebooks · 5 months

Text

walk home late at night

Masterlist

TW: mind control, hypnotic induction, blood drinking, nothing explicit but it's pretty horny

You're walking home from work late at night. You had to work overtime yet again, because your shitty boss forced a shitty deadline on you, and it's either work late or risk another bad performance review. Unfortunately, your need to make rent has to be prioritized over your need to sleep -- or else you won't have any more place to sleep.

The night is foggy and wet, almost like out of a suspense film, but you're too tired to indulge in much imagination. It's making your clothes and shoes damp and cold, which you do not appreciate in the slightest. At least you're not far, now. Only a few blocks.

As you pass under a flickering street lamp, you see the dark outline of a person in the space between buildings, and it startles you a bit. Probably nothing to worry about, probably just a loiterer or a homeless person. You're just jumpy because you're tired. You keep walking.

"Excuse me, dear."

The voice behind you is ethereal, neither male nor female, and almost seems to echo. It must be that person you passed a minute ago. A robber? Shit. You walk faster.

"Stop."

You stop.

Your mind reels as it tries to catch up with what you've just done. Why did you stop? This is clearly bad news.

"Please face me while I'm addressing you, dear."

You're turning around. Just to see who this person is and what they want, since clearly they aren't leaving you alone. Yes, that is the reason. "Who are you?"

"Silent, dear. Still and silent for me."

"I --" Your words die in your throat. Your muscles relax, like sliding into a warm bath. What's happening to you? It feels like a dream.

"Oh, dear," says the mysterious figure with a soft chuckle. "It seems you've already fallen under my power." They raise one hand and flutter their fingers downward, like rain, and your eyes follow. "Under my power. Deep, deep under my power."

It's like... your mind... shifts downwards. It feels so nice. But this isn't right. You have to get away from here -- you have to flee --

"So still, dear, so silent. Your limbs so heavy. Falling down, down, down." They flutter their fingers back and forth, and you feel yourself swaying along with it. "That's a lovely pet."

You're -- you're not a pet. You need to leave. But it's like your mind has disconnected from your body, and your body feels far too relaxed, like you've been hit with a tranquilizer. Tranquilized, yes, that's exactly how it feels.

"Come closer now, dear." With both hands, they beckon you closer. You take one step, then two, sleepwalking forward. "Closer and deeper under my power. Closer and deeper. Deeper and closer."

You can feel it. With every clumsy, sleepwalking step, your mind is draining away, your thoughts of escaping growing further and fuzzier. Distantly, you know that something bad will happen when you're in this strange person's clutches, but you can't stop yourself.

"Deeper under my power," says the echoing voice. You're so close now, in arm's reach, and the figure cups their hand under your chin and draws you in the rest of the way. Their touch feels electric, making you shiver with pleasure.

"That's a most excellent pet. Good, good pet," they praise, and the warmth of the praise spreads through your body. The thoughts of wrong, wrong, wrong are dimming as they pet your head as though you are a puppy.

Their fingers lift your chin, and you find yourself gazing into their deep, dark eyes. You can almost see stars in them, swirling and dancing, so beautiful. "That's right, dear pet. I need you to look into my eyes, now. Look deep, deep into my eyes," they say. "You're going to start to fall into a hypnotic trance for me. Deep, deep into trance."

Hypnotic... trance... there's a brief struggle in your mind.

"Yes, dear, you're being hypnotized. You're already starting to get sleepy, so very sleepy. Getting so sleepy as you look deep into my eyes, so sleepy as I sink you into hypnosis. So, so sleepy."

The sleepy, drowsy feelings are overwhelming. You can't think any more. You feel your body slumping, and they catch you in their arms and hold you upright so you can keep staring into those eyes. So hypnotized... so sleepy...

"Keep gazing into my eyes, dear. You're getting so, so sleepy. It's time for foolish little pets like you to go to sleep and surrender to me. Go to sleep, dear, a deep, hypnotic sleep. You're so, so drowsy. So hypnotized. Practically asleep already." Their eyes seem to get even closer and brighter. "Far too sleepy to resist, dear, too drowsy to fight it. All you can do is look into my eyes, let yourself be hypnotized, and go to sleep, deep, sweet sleep."

They're right. You're far too sleepy to stop this from happening. You're already so hypnotized, and they're so, so powerful.

"Your eyes want to shut, don't they, my pet? Yes, of course they do. They crave sleep so badly. Your mind desires sleep. Your mind wants to be hypnotized, wants to lower all its defenses and just relax. Yes, relax your mind for me, dear, let me soothe it to sleep. Your eyelids are drooping, pet. They're closing. You're losing control. You're surrendering. You're surrendering to sleep and to hypnosis, more sleepy and hypnotized by the minute. Isn't that right?"

Your head bobs forward, nodding in response to your master's question.

"Good pet, good, good pet. Let me put you to sleep now, dear. You're going to go to sleep and surrender your hypnotized mind to me. It's only right for a foolish little pet like you, so utterly helpless. Go to sleep, dear. No more fighting your heavy eyelids. No more resisting your drowsy mind. You can't stay awake any longer."

Your vision blurs, your eyelids almost closed. The urge to give in and sleep is so powerful. You can't even remember why you were trying to stay awake.

"Sleep, my pet. Sleep and surrender. Sleep and submit. Sleep and be hypnotized." Their voice goes lower. "I'll take such good care of you while you sleep."

A soft, quiet noise escapes your lips as you fall forward into the mysterious figure's arms, head resting on their shoulder, fast asleep. Their hand rubs your back in a slow circle.

"Good, good, my pet, my thrall. Sleep so deep in hypnotic trance. You won't remember any of this, my dear. You won't remember a thing. You're going to sleep and forget... sleep and submit... sleep and let down every defense while I feed."

Your sleeping, defenseless mind absorbs the commands to forget. In your trance state, you can feel cold fingers tilt your head and run down your neck.

"You will submit," says the echoing voice at your ear. "You will remain completely asleep and completely hypnotized while I drink my fill from you. There will be no pain, only sleep and submission. Do you understand, my dear thrall?"

"Yes... master..." you whisper.

"Very good," they purr. "Now relax and be especially still. Good pet."

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel sharp fangs at your neck. Despite what your master just said, there is a brief moment of pain, followed by a strange warm sensation as they begin to drink from the punctures on your neck. You can feel yourself bleeding, feel their tongue and their fangs as they lap at your precious blood, feel yourself surrendering utterly.

The warmth from the wound is spreading through your body, and when it hits your brain, there's a wash of intense bliss that makes you shiver and release a low moan, a small part of your mind embarrassed as you fall apart to the sensation. Your master chuckles. "Enjoying yourself, my thrall?"

"Yes, master," you respond immediately.

"Very good, pet, you're so hypnotized and submissive for me, aren't you?" They lick at the wound on your neck. "Perhaps I'll keep you, after all. Do you want to be kept? Do you want to go home with me?"

You know the right answer. "Yes, master."

"If you insist, my hypnotized and helpless little thrall." They nurse the wounds for another moment, before whispering once more in your ear. "Go deeper asleep now. Do not resist the hypnosis. You belong to me."

There's nothing left in you to resist. Your body goes limp and lifeless as your master picks you up in a princess carry, the cool evening breeze on your face as they whisk you off to god knows where.

Masterlist

#whump #vampire #mind control #vampire whumper #hypnosis #hypnotic induction #blood drinking #vampire hypnosis

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fuzybby · 4 months

Text

Punishment

Gale x F!Reader

Synopsis: You haven't been doing the best in your classes, and Mr. Dekarios needs a better way to punish you.

CW: spanking, fingering(?), no penetrative sex, Gale is a Professor, student and teacher relationship! (not healthy in real life but this is fiction)

1.4k words, enjoy!

The sun peaking through the window is what woke me up from slumber. The bright rays felt warm against my face, and I instinctively tried to swat them away.

Fuck.

Another day of class. Not that the class is horrible, it's actually quite thrilling learning of the adventures from my Professor, the problem is how hot my Professor is.

Professor Dekarios. The man that he is. He keeps his hair in a half bun everyday. His beard is scruffy and I wonder what it would feel like against my neck, my chest, in between my thighs..

I can feel the wetness between my legs already. Another day where I go to class soaking wet for my teacher. The teacher.

If my friends had known I had the hots for him, they'd never let me live it down. Or, they'd agree to also wanting to fuck him, but I doubt that's the case. Many people don't actually enjoy Professor Dekarios's class, they say he rambles too much. The study of Arcana can be difficult at times, especially when the teacher is watching your every move with his sultry brown eyes..

Stop thinking!

I groan and finally get out of bed, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my pointer finger and thumb as I try to calm myself down. There's no need to work myself up before every class thinking of him.

I dress and eat, going about my morning routine as if I'm not insanely horny, before finally grabbing my books and making my way to The Study of Magic building on campus.

I find my regular seat, not right in front but not right in the middle of the rows. The closer to the front, the closer I am to the writing on the chalkboard so I can take notes. That part is real, I need to get better at focusing for class, because as of right now, my assignments I have been handing in are only getting average marks in return.

Class ticks on and on, and I study my Professor's movements methodically. His teaching robes are dark with stripes of red going down on his shoulders. They reach the floor, which leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. He wore his glasses today, round lenses that don't sit on his nose well, making him constantly have to push the glasses up higher on his face. His hair is messy, small grey streaks sneak into his brown locks. He is so handsome.

At the end of class, when all is dismissed, I haven't taken any notes. All I've done is watch Professor Dekarios's hands as he swung them around, his lips as he spoke, his eyes as he went through the emotions of telling his story.

Everyone in the class packs up their books in their bags, chatting freely as they leave their seats to leave. I'm slower packing up, waiting for people to leave the row first before I start shoving my books into my own bag.

I look up to find Professor Dekarios's gaze on me, I can't tell the emotion in his eyes. He makes a ‘come here' motion with his finger, to which my heart rate spikes. Am I in trouble? I think to myself.

I finish packing quickly and make my way over to him and his desk, every other classmate now out of the room.

“We need to talk.” He says with a sigh, leaning against the front of his desk and crossing his arms.

“I have threatened suspension, called your parents, I have given you so much time and leeway for you to finish assignments, and yet you refuse to get your act together.” He continues, taking off his glasses and setting them down on his desk.

“I'm sorry, I-” I try to say, trying to come up with some sort of excuse that isn't ‘all I think about is you. you're the cause of my bad grades.’

“I am running out of appropriate punishments. At this point, I'll need to spank you like a child to get my point across.” He spits out. His face has contorted to anger.

I open my mouth to speak and nothing comes out, I'm at a loss for words. Spanking? Does he mean that? My face feels hot, and I try to forget the constant throbbing that comes from my clit.

“Maybe you should then.” Is what I say. I meet his eyes to convey my seriousness. “Spank me, I mean.”

He raises an eyebrow, his jaw clenched as he looks at me.

“Fine. Set your bag down, and bend over the desk.”

I stand frozen for a minute, realising that this is happening. He moves slightly to give me more room on the desk, his anger still evident.

I slowly set my bag down on the floor and stepped up to the desk, leaning over it slightly. Placing my hands to lay flat against the mahogany. I hear my Professor before I feel him, he stands behind me and quickly lands a sharp slap to my behind. I gasp and lean forwards more, my elbows now against the table.

The sting from his hand hit me hard, even though my clothes were still on, the roughness of his hands were evident.

“Mr. Dekarios!-” I gasp out, to which he replies “Call me Gale.”

“Gale” I breathe his name. It feels good against my tongue, comfortable.

He hits me again, on the other cheek this time. I crumble forwards again, my chest hitting the desk now as I'm fully bent over. My nails claw against the wood, and my breathing becomes ragged.

“Have you learnt your lesson yet?” Gale asks me, his hand comes to lay on my ass gently, hoping to bring some sort of comfort to the situation. He presses his crotch against me, and I can feel how hard he is. I whine out a quiet “yes” as I try to push myself against him.

The friction, for even just half a second, feels so good it makes me want to cry. I've wanted this for so long, I could probably cum from just the friction.

His hand on my ass moves to cup my cunt, bringing a whimper out of me. “Please” I beg, trying to move my hips against his hand.

“Can I take these off?” He asks, his other hand moving to snap the waistband of my trousers against my skin. I nod quickly, spewing more “please”s.

Gale takes them off quickly, only pushing them down to wrap around my ankles, his fingers coming back up to my uncovered folds. spreading them open with his thumbs, my slick already coating his digits.

“How long have you been wet for?” He breathes.

“All day.”

He groans. A gutteral sound that sends shivers down my spine as his fingers move again, this time to prod at my clit. Flicking it back and forth agonisingly slowly. His other hand moves to press against my lower back, keeping me grounded against the table.

A very gentle slap is sent to my cunt, the sound of flesh slapping against wetness filled the air for only a second. I whine again, biting my lip to stop the tears that threaten to spill. I have wanted him to touch me for so long, and how here he is, teasing me as I wriggle in his grasp.

He moves back to flick my clit again, this time harder and faster. Every once in a while circling it. My hips back on their own trying to get more pleasure, more friction from him.

It doesn't take long for me to scream out that I'm cumming. My body feels on fire as ecstasy courses through my veins. My legs shake from the pleasure as Gale tuts at me. My mouth opens in a silent scream as I try to control my emotions, tears have spilled from my eyes and landed onto the desk. Remnants of the filthy things we have done.

Gale removes his hand and pulls my pants back up, tapping my ass again gently.

I turn around on wobbly legs and try to move his robes up to get to him, but he grabs my wrists and stops me in my tracks. He smirks devilishly, his next words make my legs threaten to collapse even more than before.

“Only good girls who pay attention in class get my cock.”

Before long he's sending me on my way, not even a kiss on the lips goodbye. By the time I make it back to my dorm room I'm collapsing on the bed with a squeal. I will definitely be paying better attention now.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate iii #gale smut #bg3 smut #gale x reader smut #gale x reader #bg3 gale #gale dekarious smut

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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 1 year

Text

John Price x Reader

Wounded, bloody, and just the two of you. A mission gone wrong leads to a long overdue moment between both you and your Captain, perhaps too late to count for anything. Not if either of you two can help it at least.

Part One of Two (Possibly Three Part short story).

EDIT* I went back and proofread this again and fixed errors. I didn't realize I posted this in such a crummy state before, I'm sorry!

TW//: Blood, Violence

Angst, Drama, Action, Romance, Near Death Experiences, Confessions, slightly Dark, some Fluffy Dialogue (not a ton though), Tension, slight Suspense, slight Slow Burn, For the girlies who like when their romantic moments feel a little teased and earned, Though this might still be boring garbage, plus the real stuff doesn't start 'til part two. The "developing feelings through almost dying in front of each other" trope, my favorite trope lowkey

This was not the smut piece I have been planning to write for Price (That's still coming), I wanted to practice writing him a little and this sprung on me after playing MW 2019. Figured I'd post it, though this is just to indulge my growing obsession with this man. Let me know if he's OOC, I want to write him well! Enjoy!

Part Two | Part Three

Price's voice suddenly shouts out from the living room, frantic and wired...

"Ambush! Get behind cover!"

...However, his warnings are drowned out by the whistling of an RPG heading straight for your location. It cuts through the evening sky, coming to you as a black dot zipping by at the blink of an eye.

The rocket breaks through the window of the house you and Price had been tasked to raid for intel, as the explosion goes off against one of the walls behind you. The sound which follows is unlike any you've ever heard the likes of before. A piercing, defeaning pop; the loudest and most unpleasant thing imaginable.

The sharp, crashing boom it erupts around you is hot like fire, singing your uniform and blasting you forward. It's the last thing you remember, before being greeted into a world of swirling blacks and oranges. In pain and completely immobile. Momentarily knocked unconscious.

You're not so sure how much time passes before you come to again. Only a handful of minutes or so. Though in that span, you've listened to the sounds of growing gunfire and shouting rise like a terrifying mob outside. Coming in and out in hot flashes.

Had your Captain's shouting not broken through this foggy barrier, you would have thought you'd have just died. You wouldn't be so lucky.

"Lieutenant!" you hear him call out. His voice grows more desperate the longer he hasn't heard from you. "I'm comin'!"

As the dust began to settle, you felt yourself coming back. You groan in pain, your entire body sore from the blast. Brick and stone rubble surround you like a straightjacket. You're pretty sure the entire roof of the house had fallen on top of you just now. Beneath it all, it was hard to tell for certain.

As you lie trapped, waiting to be rescued, you couldn't help but think about the mission. You and Price should have known this was some sort of setup.

Even Laswell had doubts this lead on Makarov wasn't just some trap to lure out their rivals and take them out, but with this recent dry spell on the investigation, your team couldn't afford to pass up the chance at some potentially valuable leads. It's why Laswell kept the team small, sending only you two on this one.

An easy enough operation: infiltrate the building, gather the intel, and get out. Nothing new. Only all you've found in this rinky-dink building on the outskirts of Urzikstan was a handful of AQ remnants and their new Russian PMC allies. And they knew you two were coming too.

The marked house was empty, both of any life and intel. And not even a second later were they all on top of your location, every inch of this town and the hills that surrounded it dug in with hostiles.

You'd have to ask Price later how it was he was able to push back that hoard alone, if you can make it out of this. There's no telling what they'd do to you both if they caught you in here, and that's if they even take you in alive.

You feel bits of rubble being shifted off your body, immense amounts of pressure releasing upon their departure. It's quickly replaced by the sharp bruising and pain it's left in its wake beneath your uniform.

"I'm right here," you hear Price's voice try to soothe you from up above, that gruff Liverpool accent of his clear enough even through the strain and stress. He hasn't let you down a day since you've known him. He wasn't about to make today his first.

Another large bit of rubble gets removed, taking the darkness away and flooding light down from above.

You could have sworn you were looking at an angel when you finally made out the silhouette of the man rescuing you. Your Captain. John Price.

"I've got you," Price assures you, his words felt wracked with adrenaline, hands moving near on impulse.

His hat was gone, short brown hair in a light tussle, and dust and light soot coating the black of his uniform and scruff of his beard. It almost worried you not to see him in it; he never parts from that thing. Perhaps during the blast it had gotten caught in the crossfires and rendered unwearable.

For some reason, it only made the situation feel much more worse than you originally thought.

His blue eyes find yours beneath the rubble, and you watch all the dread he'd been juggling with subside into relief the second he hears you cough out all the dust and wall you'd inhaled, struggling to catch your breath. He sighs to himself with a smile.

He doesn't even hear the words when he says them. Price only says the first thing that came to mind the minute you've finally stopped coughing to see him again.

"Thank fuckin' Christ."

Once Price saw you weren't dead, he finished removing the rubble from off of you. It's the bit he removes from your right arm that finally pulls a pained cry out of you. It's so intense it's as though reality just now set back in for you.

Your entire right arm felt numb from the elbow down, your fingers no longer feeling attached to your body. Had you not held your breath and sucked up the courage to look (with your peripherals first), you would have thought you'd lost your arm in the explosion.

Though it didn't make it any less broken and fucked. Nor did it make it any easier to not become fearful of what this could mean for you.

The Captain immediately notices the condition of your arm once he's cleared the debris off you. Cursing under his breath, Price helps you to your feet, brushing as much dirt from you as he can.

"You broken?" he asks. "Apart from the arm?"

You feel for what weapons still remained attached to your body after the blast, finding just a slender knife and your holstered pistol. Only two clips though. Of course.

Your arm and entire backside ached something fierce, and your brain felt as though it had been rattled inside your head and then some. If you shut your eyes now, you feared fainting dead away, and the ringing in your ears has yet to subside.

But your current state would have to do. It's that or die here. You knew that, and Price knew that too.

"I'm still here, Captain."

Price smiles, his gaze softening for just the slightest second. Happy to see his training and advice being taken seriously.

It just now was beginning to dawn on him that you hadn't died in here with him either. Seeing you OK and still ready to fight felt fuel enough for the Captain to keep going.

"That you are," he says.

Price parts from you to take post back by the freshly made hole in the wall, readying his rifle. Most of the building had collapsed in on itself, with the exception of the back of the house still being mostly intact.

Outside you could see the mountain of bodies Price had no doubt created while you were buried. None made it too close to where your position was.

With the coast temporarily clear, the current objective at hand remained the same: Get to the Evac Zone stat and get the hell out of dodge.

"This building's gonna be surrounded by Russians and AQ in less than a minute if we don't bug out now," Price warns. "And there'll be more where that came from, so ready yourself for a fight."

"Price..."

The Captain looks back at you, hearing the sudden dread in your voice. It takes him having to have stepped away from you to finally see that something really was up.

Your eyes look down to his waist, where you see the blood beginning to pool at his hip, staining his clothing and growing larger by the minute. It's clear he'd used what he could to try and wrap it, though it hadn't been enough. The adrenaline must have taken his mind away from it.

It figures you weren't the only one who got wounded here.

You look back up at Price, worried. Quiet.

Price looks down at his wound, placing a hand against it and seeing the warm, wet liquid coat his tattered glove. Whether it be a front or really only a flesh wound, Price doesn't dare break composure in front of you. You both would need him clearheaded.

"It's nothin' fatal," he simply tells you.

You knew Price wouldn't make a big deal about his injury, even if it were serious, which you honestly could not tell from where you were standing. You also knew Price wouldn't want you to worry about it either. He never liked when you worried for him; that's his job.

The time dwindled all the same; you can worry about it when you both get home.

You look to Price with contentment. You wouldn't be another reason for his worries if you could help it. "It'll make a good story for the boys later."

Price smiles back at you. "You'll tell it better than me, I'm sure."

The growing sound of men shouting and vehicles rushing to flank your position makes your blood run cold. If you didn't leave soon, neither of you would make it out of this to tell your stories.

You try and get that adrenaline you felt before to spike back up, knowing this was a matter of life and death now. Though your body betrayed you.

Your heart won't stop racing, no matter how much you try and calm yourself. Your hands keep shaking, and you can't help but keep checking the recently blasted hole behind you and your Captain. Soon to be flooded with enemies. Afraid.

Price must have noticed your worrying, because he steps away from his position and does something completely outside of himself suddenly. Though as he did so, it couldn't have felt more natural of a thing to do. Like a gesture he's spent his whole life waiting to give you.

He rests his hand gently on your cheek, bringing your eyes forward so you could see nothing beyond his own gaze. This close, even as night falls over the town and darkness shrouds the remains of this little house, this felt the clearest you've ever looked upon your Captain.

There's a glint of determination in his eyes, all the years of experiences that have worn and torn him the older he has gotten, defining the finer parts of his features. His expression always softened at the sight of you, an act you alone pulled from him for the first time truly, now.

Price was here with you. At that moment, it was the only thing that mattered.

"Hey," his thumb caresses your cheek, his jaw clenching to keep from wincing at the pain in his abdomen. "We're alive. Let's keep it that way, yeah? I'm not leavin' here without you."

His jaw tenses once more and you think for a second he might say something else. But he holds his tongue, wanting the most for you to keep calm beside him.

You can feel it in the air around him; the captain's as bugged out as you are right now. He was just doing everything he could to keep being a leader and bottle it up, channeling those fears and turning them into fuel to keep going. His words may be more for himself, than you, but they're true enough.

You lift your good hand up and let it rest over his, feeling his hand stiffen at first, but then find its home against your palm. You didn't want to have to let go, but you knew you must eventually. So you nod. "Damn right, you're not."

Price chuckles, happy to see you on the same page. "Fuckin' A, love," he quickly quips. "Now let's move."

The rocky hills stretched further out ahead of you. At some point their edges seem to blend with the black of the sky, all the stars gone away someplace. Luck would see a full moon above your heads, providing the only bit of light on this makeshift route to the Evac Zone.

You have Price's arm over your left shoulder now, having to help him the rest of the way since you've escaped the base. No amount of tough guy act the Captain put on could prevent the amount of blood he'd been losing. Had he not started tumbling over mid-shootout suddenly, you wouldn't have even known. And you wanted to kill him yourself once you did too.

It's nothin' fatal, he had said. The lie of the fucking century, right?

By now his dark blood has practically stained the entire lower right side of his body, making his skin pale and his eyelids heavy. His movements slowed, his reflexes taking a severe hit because of it, and he was beginning to breathe heavier. You've gone through all your supplies trying to stop his bleeding before leaving the house. Nothing worked.

It had been infuriating, just as it'd been scary to realize that your Captain really did need a medic right now. If he didn't see a doctor soon, he might just bleed to death before you've made it out of here.

Of course, having to help him now meant you couldn't shoot at all, given the state of your other arm. Price helped with what he could, but even a man of his talents couldn't prevent shaky shots from increasing blood loss.

"Nikolai's not far out now," Price grunted out, doing his best to put one more clip into his pistol. The last one. "Should be a few more clicks along this trail."

"He couldn't fly a little closer," you huff out, readjusting your hold on the Captain. He wasn't a light man, and while he did everything in his power to make this easier for you, his weakening state only grew harder to carry.

"You holdin' up alright?" Price asks. You feel him once again, ready himself to try and pull away and stand on his own feet. Having to rely on you was eating away at him, you could tell.

"I'm fine," you tell him, though that's not all the way true. Your vision had started to blur, and your lungs felt on fire. Now that some time has passed, all your once numb injuries were suddenly starting to scream at you for relief. Had you not been concentrating on your steps in front of you, or the thumping of your heart inside your ringing ears, you would have fainted already.

But you were all Price had right now; there was no way you'd fail him when he needed you most. "I'm more worried about you, Captain."

"Still got my wits about me..." he says. "Maybe a little lighter now, given I've been leakin' like a faucet."

"I'd beg to differ."

"Eh, you can use the exercise, lieutenant."

"Or you can lose the weight, Captain."

You both chuckle, and for a second, it felt easier to pretend you both were somewhere else right now. Spending all the time together you only wish you had before.

The levity was needed. It kept you both sane and human, and right now, Price was kicking himself in the ass for not appreciating these moments with you sooner.

The team really lucked out when they recruited you, he saw that now. You've always made sure you were someone Price could trust. That you were someone he could depend on you. You kept a cool head and you did what you must, while staying both good-natured and sweet, despite everything.

And when everything was said and done, you came back to him, keeping a smile as neutral as his own could manage. Your eyes bright like stars with him in your sights. His would often do the same.

All the times you've been at his side before tonight, keeping his head on straight when he needed it most, and always reminding him of life outside of all of this, they've only increased over the years. In every moment it always felt as though you two only teetered at the next level of your fondness for one another. Both wanting to push further, but not wanting to push the other too quickly either.

Your roles on the team always came first; they seemed to be the most important thing at the time.

Every lingering touch, a longing gaze brought by excitement and recognition, a check-in during work, or a brief moment of conversation... that's where your relationship has stayed for years now. You both felt OK with that. You thought so at first.

However, Price knew one thing. He couldn't lose you tonight. He wouldn't. Not on his account. Not when there's so much more that can still be. John's lived long enough to know that when something feels this right, there is no time to waste, lest he lose that chance forever like he has with so many others before.

You feel Price grow slack against your side now, his blood starting to soak through your uniform. It took everything in you not to panic.

"I won't let you fall," you assure him now, adjusting him against you. "Just keep holding on."

The smell of blood is so strong, you'll never forget its scent long after you've left this place. Nor would you forget seeing your Captain this way. Hurt and broken. You know he's no stranger to it, but alas, John is still human.

"...I'm taking you out for dinner after this," Price up and says suddenly. He figures he should just throw that out there, in case he didn't get another chance to. "My treat."

You nearly trip when you hear him, as if you're heart needed any more of a reason to fluctuate. You lost count of how long you've waited to hear him say that, having spent so many nights daydreaming about a time he'd come up to you and actually asked you out. It felt like everything you imagined it would; if only it had been under better circumstances.

"Is that a promise, Captain?"

"You know I wouldn't bluff about that, love."

"Well, then you better keep it then, John."

"As you wish."

He could hardly understand how it was you were still able to push through all that growing pain in your body after taking such a blast. He couldn't be more proud of it either.

The town illuminated like a glowing city behind you, AQ and Russians creating an uproar there, regardless of your presence. It was no longer your problem, however. The approaching convoy heading your direction was.

You weren't out of the fire just yet.

You look around yourselves, only having a few large rocks and boulders to hide behind in your immediate vicinity. Little word is needed to be shared between you two before the plan was nonverbally green-lit.

You both take cover behind a large rock facing the hills, Price resting down against the rock as you took out your pistol. It was time to see if your shooting with your left hand has improved any more than it did a few minutes ago during your escape.

You peak over the stone, seeing four AQ soldiers step out with rifles and flashlights, already hot on your pursuit. Tracking the trail of blood you'd left behind. Price peaks around the other side of the rock, raising his pistol.

"You take the two on the right," he whispers. "I got left."

You nod, and then take position. Price takes the first shot, dropping both his targets with swift precision. Even wounded, the man always had a way with pistols. Forever the dead-eye shot.

You drop one AQ soldier, happy to see your aim improve. However, your heart sinks when you go to shoot the other soldier and you hear the click of your pistol suddenly. Out of ammo.

The AQ soldier fires at you, the bullet just grazing by your cheek, before another hits you straight at the center of your chest, rattling your sternum and knocking you off your feet. Without your bulletproof vest, that bullet would have torn straight through you. Though you might as well have died, with the pain it sent through you instead. Knocking the wind out of you.

Before you know it, Price has reached over and started pulling you back behind the boulder. "Hold on!" he says. "You're not dead yet."

Price goes to try and get to his knees and peek over the boulder, however, now that he's sat back behind the rock again with you, it's become an impossible task to even wiggle his feet at this point. Like his legs were losing feeling. The blood loss really was starting to catch up to him now, it seems.

So instead, Price did the next best thing, simply waiting for the AQ soldier to round the corner, which he stupidly does. The minute the enemy's head peaks over, Price shot twice for good measure, watching the man drop to the ground with a heavy thud.

"I think we're clear," he says. "Still breathing?"

"Yeah," you gasp out.

A lot of times, you're not sure if you'd make it through a lot of these missions if Price wasn't here. The true backbone of the 141. The man always just seemed to be prepared for anything, even with the odds stacked against him. Often feeling like some other worldly being on the field, unable to be truly harmed by the threats he faced.

Until now, you couldn't even picture him so hurt.

When Price went on a mission, you could trust he'd get it done, if no one else. And you could always trust he'd make it back too. One way or another. Of course, he wasn't always lucky, as rare as those days actually came. Luck seemed to only be a recent thing for him in fact, and of short supply tonight.

You push yourself up, rubbing your hand over your chest in an attempt to soothe the throbbing. You're unsure what bad juju you yourself had crossed, or why lady luck seemed on your side even despite it all, but maybe fate wanted you to make it out of here.

One of you at least.

You look over at Price and see him barely able to keep consciousness now, cold sweat forming at the sides of his face, and a puddle of blood building around his legs. His breathing broken. Dying.

Seeing him now, pale, bloodied, and relying on a rock behind him to keep himself upright... for the first time ever you felt fear for your Captain.

"No, no, no," you rush over to Price, taking hold of his face and bringing his eyes to you. Seeing them so close again wakes him somewhat. "Stay with me, Captain."

"I'm still here..." Price answers weakly. Even still, he tries to keep up an act in front of you, like he truly was fine. It only made you more afraid to lose him now. Out in some rocky hilltop in the middle of nowhere because of bad intel. You couldn't lose him like this.

You look over the boulder, seeing the convoy those AQ soldiers showed up in still running a few feet ahead of you. Just what you needed.

"Can you stand?" You ask.

"...I'll need help," he said.

"OK, OK..." You take a deep breath, plotting everything out in your head before taking Price's hand in yours. "There's a convoy over there we can take to the Evac Zone. It'll be faster than going on foot."

You start trying to pull Price up, feeling the man use all the strength he can muster to try and push off the ground and back to his feet. Having one hand to help him didn't make matters easier, however. He made it halfway before falling back against the cold stone with a sharp grunt and some swearing.

Rather than comment, you take Price's hand again, feeling your face turn red with trying to lift him. He gets his knees bent to stand this time, but whenever any weight was applied afterward, an aggressive pain would awkwardly shoot through his body, taking all the momentum from him and causing him to sink back down. And with how heavy he was, you couldn't stop him once he it happened.

Price falls back against the rock again, as frustrated as you are about it all. He can't even bring himself to look you in your eye he's so mad, ashamed of the situation. It's not like him to be the one holding things back. He shouldn't have gotten wounded like this in the first place, he felt.

"...If you go and get help, I can manage here 'til then," Price starts to say. Feeling like a burden, he no longer wished to hold you down. But you wouldn't hear it.

"Fuck that," you protest. "I didn't carry you all the way over here to leave you so you can bleed out."

"...You didn't do it to die here either." He grabs at his side, gritting his teeth along to that burning pain he felt, as the taste of iron tinted the back of his throat now. "Look, this ain't how I plan on goin' out, trust me. Plus we've still got that dinner, yeah?"

Price smiles at you after he says it, and it takes everything in you not to cry. An unspoken reality lingered in the air soon after, because you both knew what it'd mean if you couldn't pick him up from this spot. You'd give anything to not make that so.

You hear more vehicles heading your way from the town. A good handful of them now. Too many. All armed and ready to take out the two 141 soldiers responsible for killing their friends. You knew if you left Price here now, you wouldn't see him again.

"Fuck..." Out of breath and defeated, sorrow starts to settle in and you swallow it down, letting the feelings stir into frustration. "Why'd we wait so long, John?"

Price felt at a loss for words. "I don't know..." he admits. He couldn't quite give you an answer for that; it had always just been... something. He could at least look you in your eyes when he spoke to you now. "But... I'm sorry for that," he says. "Probably should have said somethin' sooner, huh."

You have to bite your cheek to keep from letting his words fill you with so much sorrow and regret. "You and me both."

Fearful that these may actually be your final moments with your Captain, now you wish he hadn't said anything at all, not knowing you'd be losing him so soon after. Leave it to Price to twist the knife in a wound you didn't even know had now grown.

However, Price did not share your begrudging feelings about how things turned out. He'd just been happy finally getting that off his chest. Now, if you could just get to safety then if he did die tonight he'd be satisfied enough with things.

"Better late than never, right?" Price chuckles through the pain. And then he grows quiet. "You know I've always had a pension for dramatic timing."

The vehicles in the distance getting closer now. There was no more time for further talking.

"Forever the attention seeker, Captain," you comment.

"Yours is all I ever needed."

You look back to the town a final time, seeing the convoys getting closer. You take a deep breath, and then you reapproach your Captain, taking his hand. You prepare yourself to try and lift Price back up to his feet again. "Well, you've got it."

"Now hold on-"

"No," you didn't want to hear any more of his excuses to be left behind. If helping him means you both die here, then that was something you were willing to risk. "I'm not leaving you here, so give it up already."

With one final pull, you use all the strength you have left in you to lift your Captain up to his feet. He uses your momentum to push himself up from the boulder, actually managing to stand, though it feels as though his guts are about to spill out of him when he does.

As he's teetering over, you quickly grab hold of his arm, restabilizing him, and trying not to jump too much for joy that you actually got him up this time.

You take his arm and wrap it back around your shoulder, as you guided him over to the convoy.

"We're damn near home free, Captain," you say. "Just hold on a little longer. You'll make it. You're the toughest man I know."

He is the toughest man you knew. A man ready to jump into the fire to save others in need. A man that can shrug off a helicopter crash, take a beating and still keep from succumbing. You knew he'd never go down without a fight, and it's why you felt so safe beside him. It's why you wouldn't leave him.

You open the passenger door and help Price inside.

"...You really want that dinner, don't you?" he teases you.

"Is that even a question?" You check to make sure the vehicle can still run, feeling for any tracking devices that might overcomplicate your escape. Once you see you're good to go, you buckle your seat belt and take the wheel. "Yeah, I want that dinner. Now stop bleeding and sit tight."

"Yes, ma'am."

Next stop, the Evac Zone.

Part Two

#call of duty #john price x reader #captain price #captain john price #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #might add music later #perhaps an orchestra #I'm a film major #I love drama

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