#it's really fucking great that that's a thing

[roach-works]

im working on a thought here but i think a crucial component of supporting and advocating for liberal and progressive ideas is you have to trust people to muddle through mistakes. i see a lot of people that clearly want *safety* for marginalized people but their proposals amount to putting everyone in a padded room with their hands on a well lit table forever. we have to sanitize media, we have to protect people. we can't hurt anyone, we can't risk anyone-- but we can constantly constantly surveil each other and make new rules against ever doing the wrong things. you know, the bad things, the dirty things, the things that hurt you and make you sick and ruin everything for everyone forever. it's our moral duty, isn't it? to make the world cleaner and brighter and safer?

i think, probably, it would help a lot of us to take a deep breath and consider that you have to make mistakes in life. and so does everyone else. you learn things and you fuck up and you pull through. and you can warn people, if you think they're going to make a mistake, but i don't think you have a right to stop them from doing whatever damn fool thing they're up to.

i think that's what's really bothering me about current progressive discourse, and a lot of the proposed policies. a lot of kids are really scared right now that any single mistake is fatal, and while they're not totally wrong-- the economy sucks, there's still a plague going on, and america is a carceral panopticon--it's still not their *right* let alone their moral obligation to build a system where no one has the freedom to fuck up.

i don't know what the solution is here. a world with more resources would be great. a world with less deadly risk, too. but i'd settle for a world where we recognized and applauded everyone's human right to do weird stupid bullshit and learn better--or not--on their own time.

[ynsbarbbb]

love me harder | m. verstappen

hypothesis - max is on the brink of losing you. however, after a fatal accident…

pairing - max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

[fic is inspired by “love me harder” by ariana grande ft. the weeknd

“baby, in the moment, you’ll know this is, something bigger than us and beyond bliss”

“could you just look at me?” you yelled as max just kept walking a few steps ahead of you.

“can’t. race is about to start.”

stepping into a quicker pace you place yourself in front of max and the garage door, “when was the last time you told me you loved me?”

your eyes searched his face, desperately trying to find a glimpse of the max that you knew, the max you fell in love with, the max you married. the hand you placed on his chest, you could feel the steady rhythmic thump of his heart.

“you really want to do this now?”

“yes! i never see you anymore!”

max scoffed, eyes rolling as he looked back down at his phone, “sorry that i’m busy.”

your hand fell back to your side, “i’m busy too max, yet i still try.”

he nodded his head, eyes not lifting from the rectangular square. you sighed, your hands landing on your hips. is this what you’ve become now?

“is our marriage still worth fighting for, max?”

he looked up. eyes piercing through yours. you cannot believe the words just left your mouth, but it felt relieving to finally utter the words that has been haunting you for weeks.

“i’m not doing this with you right now, y/n,” max steps around you, “good luck with your race.”

~~

it was a millisecond.

you missed the turn by a millisecond and hamilton came crashing into you, sending your right wing and two tires flying. the car skidding across the track and landed upside down.

the force of the impact shoved your head against the steering wheel, hard, bouncing back against the seat.

damage had been done. to you and your car.

to lewis’ as well.

unbeknownst to max, who was in the lead, adrenaline coursing though his veins at the thought of his fourth podium for the season.

he was thriving, the car succumbing to his every command. the engine roaring sending shivers throughout his whole body.

the grin on his face turned devilish. he’s so close.

“max,” christians voice in his ears broke his train of thought, but his eyes never once lost sight of the track in front of him.

“the car’s doing great, no need to worry. podium is secure,” max declared excitingly. he took the turn, groaning at the strain it took on his body.

“though, sainz is on my tail the whole fucking time.”

christian sighed, not at all what max had expected, but he couldn’t be bothered by his team principal’s pms at the moment.

“max, there was a crash.”

another turn, another groan.

sainz could be spotted in max’ peripheral vision. he pushed the car harder, engine roaring, sending max flying away from carlos.

“who crashed?” he asked as he fiddled with the buttons on the wheel, checking if everything is still steady. he has at least seven more laps to go.

“y/n.”

dead silent.

heavy thick as your name registered in his mind. the grin that has been on his face had been wiped down. his lips sticking to his teeth.

“max?” christian asked, waiting a few moments. there was no response from the dutch.

he felt as if his body went numb, limb for limb. his arms felt wonky - not like the grip he had on the wheel mere moments ago. his breathing became shallow, his lungs struggling to capture enough oxygen, his brain malfunctioning.

next thing he knew he was crashing into sandbags.

the impact knocking sense back into him. sand dust flying everywhere.

“max!” christian exclaimed, “are you injured?”

“how’s she? is she alive?” max frantically asked. you didn’t have a choice - you had to be alright. you couldn’t be hurt, max would loose his head if you where. who crashed into you? how hard was the impact?

max got out of the car, “christian, fucking answer me!”

the line was silent for a couple of moments, “she’s stable. unconscious, but stable. no further news yet. she has been rushed to the ER.”

cars blasted past him, deafening noise drumming his ears.

“i need to get to her.”

“max, the race -“

“fuck the race, that’s my fucking wife!”

~

the doors of the ER bursted open, a very sweaty, and breathless max stood there, his eyes frantically looking around for anyone who could assist him.

he still had his suit on, christian hot on his trail.

“y/n, i need to know where y/n verstappen is,” he asked, accent thick as he slapped his hands on the receptionist desk.

she looked up at him, “any relation?”

max scoffed, “my wife.”

her fingers made quick work on the keyboard, “your wife is in surgery.”

max’ shoulders slumped and christian took hold of it, shooting a quick thanks to the nurse and led him in another direction. he swiped his hands though his hair, pulling at it, feeling his frustration grow and bubble at the bottom of his throat.

he could scream.

max paced the hallway, up and down. maybe minutes - maybe hours. he didn’t know. all he did know was that he’s staying.

why didn’t he tell you he loved you. with every fibre of his being he loved you. he craved you, constantly. the thought of you was all that he needed to survive - but knowing that you were his wife, made him whole.

you were the person who stood by him whilst he was working through his troubles with his father. on the nights when fear surrounded him, the comforting hand of you, his wife, brought him peace. on the days when he was on his happiest, it was on the days he spent with you.

you made him. you showed him to be max verstappen.

his wife.

~~

news spread around the paddock, like a wild fire. sky sport tv airing out to fans and viewers to keep you in their prayers and thoughts.

some of your and max’ closest friends took off straight away to the hospital, supporting max even though he didn’t even acknowledge them.

they were still there.

an apology from lewis was sent out world wide, and he even made an appearance to max, but the dutch only glared at him, taking hold of his collar, making his friends jump and take hold of max.

“if she doesn’t make it out of here, you’ll regret ever setting foot on a paddock again. i’ll kill you.”

his voice was icy as he spat the words at lewis, baring his teeth. daniel stepped in between the two and pushed max back by his chest.

max’ eyes never left lewis’ retreating from.

~~

“verstappen, y/n.”

max was in front of the doctor in a second, his eyes pleading his for good news. the doctor smiled at him and gave him what he was searching for.

“she’s asleep, but she’s an extreme fighter. you’ve got no worries, mr verstappen.”

he swore he could cry.

the doctor told him the room you were in and max wasted no time rushing towards it.

he searched the numbers above the doors for room one-o-one. his number. a bit of pride bursting in his chest, fate really had put you two together.

max stepped into the room and his heart broke.

machines connected to your heart, the beeping sound being the only indication that you are in fact alive. various cuts and bruises formed along your face. a neck brace adorned. oxygen mask on your beautiful face.

max stifled a sob as he crashed into a seat near your bed, scooting closer and taking hold of your hand. his thumb drawing patterns on your knuckles.

even in your unconscious mind your body still knew that it was your max, the heart monitor speeding up slightly.

it caused him to chuckle, “mijn schatje, mijn alles, i am so sorry. this should’ve never happened to you.”

he squeezed your palm, pressing a tender kiss to the flesh, “fight, stay strong for me, yeah? so that i can love you right this time.”

~~

a gentle knock at the door roused max from his sleep. his hand was still tucked in yours.

max turned towards the door, lando stood there.

a soft smile on his face with a gym bag in his hand, “mate, i brought you some clothes - the suit can not be comfortable.”

he chuckled and motioned for his muppet friend to come in. lando placed the bag by the door and walked closer to stand next to max. he placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“how’s the missus?”

max looked at you, a lump the size of a bull frog lodged itself in his throat, “she’s good, doc said she’s a real fighter.”

“she is a verstappen, ey?” lando nudged max’ shoulder who just chuckled in response. he felt guilty, ashamed, contrast to who he was. he shouldn’t have had to treat his wife like shit. you just wanted to know he loves you.

“look, mate, don’t beat yourself up about what happend, see this as a new beginning.”

max nodded, “she just wanted me to say that i love her. shit, i should’ve just said it to her. the crash-“

“is not your fault, you couldn’t have possibly predicted an accident to happen.”

he shook his head and looked at the bag by the door, “i’m going to change, would you mind maybe staying here. i don’t want to leave her alone.”

“yeah, of course mate.”

~~

two weeks later

“don’t strain yourself so much, schat,” max’ voice was gentle as he looked at your from his seat on the couch. within mere moments he stood in front of you, large palms pressed to your hips to help you walk the last few remaining steps.

this last couple of weeks changed. your marriage changed. max changed.

he was waiting on you hand and foot, even though you have told him multiple times that certain things you can do on your own, he still insisted.

the one noticeable change for yourself and everyone surrounding you was the fact that max openly, whenever he got the chance told you he loved you.

whether it be when you’re making dinner, doing dishes, walking beside him on the paddock - he’d say he loves you with a kiss pressed to your temple. it was and still is absolute bliss.

your recovery went by fast, splendid as your doctor had put it. with time and patience, he said, you’d be back on the track in no time.

when your socked feet took the last step, max couldn’t help the face splitting grin that adorned his face.

“look at you go, speedy,” he smiled as he took hold of your head and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. speedy. the nickname max had dubbed you the moment you overtook him when you first met.

speedy. the nickname max had dubbed you the moment you stole his heart.

speedy. the nickname max had used in his vows the moment you took his last name.

max made sure that you didn’t strain yourself too much in the recovery process, he treated you like you were his fine china, bubble wrapping your heart and by God, swearing that he’d never let his actions and words ever hurt you again.

he poured so much love into you. you practically glowed in comparison to when the argument had occurred.

his love.

his wife.

max made sure you knew how much he adored you, loved you, craved you.

“ik hou van je, mijn schat.”

and you knew he did.

fin.

#charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #world championships 2024 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 2024 #x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo

[gremlingottoosilly]

Reader accidentally getting married to a complete stranger (König) after a drunken night? With complete documentation and all.

Your head is pounding. Your throat feels like you were enjoying a light snack of needles and sand last night. Your pussy feels like you decided to fuck yourself with a baseball bat and came three times during it. There is a man in your bed - well, not even your bed, but a bed. A bed in a room that you do not recognise, with a man that you do not recognize. He has his hand thrown over your waist and you can spot a ring on his hand - fucking great, you slept with a married guy. Maybe, you could just slowly ease yourself from under his body and make. a quick run for your life before his wife is here, so... There is a ring on your finger. Same vintage design, maybe a bit more elegant. Giant diamond in the middle, making it look like something you definitely wouldn't want to wear on a daily basis. The guy snores quietly behind you, the outline of his muscular body makes you shiver with desire. So, you did sleep with a married guy. It's just that he was married to you. If you think that convincing Konig that it was all a drunk mistake and you should divorce as soon as possible so you wouldn't have any problems in the future, you're dead wrong. He already tied the knot, and he won't let you or anyone else untie it. Not in his books - he is going to take you home and sign all the required documents, so you'd have a hand on the property, and he already discusses how you'll give up on your job and become a full-time housewife for him. You thought it couldn't get worse, but the guy already calls you his darling, his dearest, and about three different pet names in German that you don't understand - but pretty sure it's something weird and perverted. Konig rolls over you again, his cock poking at your thigh. A newlywed high goes through your mind as he starts sucking on your neck again, renewing the hickeys already covering your soft skin. You ask if he is really serious about the whole wedding thing - and he says that once he saw you, he was certain that you will be worthy of his grandma's wedding ring. Jesus fucking christ...altough god isn't going to help you when your new husband is making you cum on his monster cock again.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod

[miley1442111]

a great start- a.hotchner

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: how aaron and you end up together after going undercover

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: general cm topics, fluff, crying, reader gets shot, hostage situation, suggestive themes, reader is forced to strip, comfort, hurt.

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You sat at the end of the sofa, Aaron’s arm around you as you felt the painful reminder of the psychopath watching you two from the other side of the many cameras around the house. 

“How’re you holding up?” He murmured into your ear, definitely too quiet for the camera to pick it up.

“Alright,” you whispered back, then giggled softly, as if it was a joke between the two of you. He smiled, his same adoring, beautiful, and infrequent smile and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You both knew what you were getting into when you started this, pretending to be a couple so the rest of the team can catch the unsub, he’d be so busy watching the two of you ‘newly-weds’ and get sloppy with something. 8 days in and nothing had changed. You knew he was part of the construction team of the house, that’s how the cameras were put in, but you didn’t know who he was at all, since the construction company wiped their records. “You?”

“Alright,” he smiled, though his eyes said otherwise. They looked elsewhere before you could study the emotions in him, redirecting to the tv in front of you two. You leaned closer to his exposed neck and kissed it softly. The last six victims, all couples, had been killed during acts of physical/ sexual nature. You’d profiled that this meant he was unable to perform and most likely impatient due to his clear overkill and general killing style. Your lips trailed up his neck as he tensed beside you. It had been 8 days, you assumed that newly-weds would be jumping each other’s bones at every chance they got, yet the unsub hadn’t seen you two so much as make out. You felt Aaron gulp. 

Your lips met his just like they had in all the previous days, though this one was heavier, more passionate, more meaningful. 

You were going to have to fuck Aaron Hotchnmer. You were going to have to fuck your really hot boss. 

Oops. 

You pulled yourself onto his lap, kissing him deeper as his hands rested cautiously on your waist. He kissed back with just as much passion as you were, maybe even more. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips. You pulled away softly, grinning at him. “So beautiful.”

Your heart swelled. “You’re so handsome,” you smiled and he chuckled. 

“What is this, the 1800s?” He joked and you giggled into his neck. 

This all felt too real, too normal. The way he kissed you before you both went off to ‘work’ (aka him working at a fake law firm and you fake teaching at a college nearby), the way his hands were always on your body, the way he held you when he slept, the soft whispers when he asked you if things were alright, the way he said ‘I love you’ everyday and made you actually believe it for a few seconds, and the gorgeous smile on his face every morning when you woke up.

It was maddening. 

“I don’t know, you should probably be the one to tell me,” you mused. Yes, there was a significant age gap that you continuously made fun of, but Aaron did too, so it should’ve been ok. Aaron laughed but there was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” you smiled and got off his lap, pretending you didn’t see or feel his hard-on. You went over to the door and looked in the peep-hole, only to be met with a middle-aged white male who looked very angry. Yeah, that was your unsub. “Honey, maybe you should call Spencer and invite him over for dinner this week?” You mentioned,  using the code you two had made up for getting help when needed. Spencer meant a SWAT team and the team, Derek meant local police and the team, Emily meant just the team, Jj meant you needed the fucking cavalry, and Penelope meant something was seriously wrong. 

“Good idea,” he said, grabbing his phone. What a way to crush a libido, right?

You inched open the door and he pushed past, trying to get inside. He succeeded, throwing you into a wall. 

“You two haven’t had sex!” The unsub shouted. “It’s been 8 days. You two got married three months ago and you just bought this house. Why don’t you two have sex?” He demanded, running a hand through his greasy hair as he paced the room, stress and anxiety practically oozing from every pore. Aaron finished his call and stood in front of you, shielding you from harm like a husband would. He noticed the gun in the unsub’s waistband, he saw the devolving nature of his stress, and he wanted you safe. 

He was in love with you, and you clearly refused to see it. The small things he did at work, like the way you two always shared hotel rooms, even when it wasn’t necessary because he knows you hate sleeping on your own in a new place but especially in hotels, since you were attacked in one on a case a few years ago. He noticed the small things about you, like when you changed your nails, they were usually colourful and long, but not too long that you couldn’t type. He saw when you changed your lipgloss, you’d gone through 9 different colours in your 4 years at the BAU, light pink, dark red, purply-red, a nude pink, burgundy, an orangey-red, a pinky-red, a glittery clear one, and right now- a red lip tint that he’d grown to love, even when it landed on his lips. He’d observed when you changed your perfume, he’d noticed how you smelt everyday, since you’d always say ‘good morning’ every morning at the BAU and your perfume would be the freshest then. You had three signature scents, a rich vanilla, a citrus and flowers, and a peach one that you wore on special occasions, like the ‘dates’ you two went on, or when you went out with friends.  

He loved you, plain and simply. 

“We’re not very sexual people,” you lied, trying to sell the fear you were feeling. That was a huge lie because every day you’d wanted to jump his bones, just like he’d wanted to jump yours. 

“How can you ‘not be a sexual person’ when a woman as beautiful as that is in front of you?!” He shouted and you flinched. How long  until the team and SWAT team would get here? “Come here,” he demanded, looking at you and pulling the gun out of his pocket. You didn’t move, only holding Aaron closer. “I said come here!” He shouted and you were forced into action. Aaron grabbed your hand, stopping you from going any further, but you shook him off, desperate to get whatever this was over-with. “Take off your clothes.”

Fuck off, is what you would’ve said but he was holding a gun. 

So you pulled your t-shirt over your head as Aaron kept trained on the unsub’s face. Next to go was your bottoms, so you were left in your bra and underwear. 

“Look at her,” he demanded Aaron do. “She’s beautiful.”

Aaron looked and he agreed, he  thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world, your witty humour, intelligent mind, carefree nature, kind aura, he loved all of it. He loved your body too, but you weren’t just your body, and he wasn’t going to take advantage of you in a hostage situation, or the situation you two had been in for the last 8 days. It wouldn’t be fair, he was your superior. 

But god you were gorgeous. His eyes skimmed up your body and he felt his blood rush and he felt 15 again. 

“She is,” he agreed. 

“And you don’t fuck her?” 

“I don’t fuck her,” Aaron agreed. “She’s my wife, I love her, it’s making love.”

The unsub rolled his eyes, waving the gun around as you tensed. “Making love then,” he scoffed. “What did you major in, fucking romantic poetry from the 19th centary?” 

You almost laughed, remembering how you and Aaron had joked during the week about his tendencies to over-complicate his words. You didn’t mind, you loved it to be honest. 

“He majored in law,” you said, acting scared.

The unsub turned his attention and gun on you. “What did you say?

“H-he majored in law.” 

A gunshot. A gunshot to the shoulder (thank god for his awful aim) and a scream of pain meant the SWAT team ran inside. Aaron ran to you, not looking back at the unsub as he scooped you up in his arms and brought you outside.

“Medic!” He shouted and the ambulance beside the squad cars was already prepared for an injury. He put you down on the gurney as you shifted in pain, and he wanted to take it all away. He wanted to be shot, not you. He wanted to be hurt, not you. 

“Shit this is bad,” one of the paramedics said a little too loudly and Aaron saw you tense. He shot the paramedic a disapproving look and he sent back an apologetic smile.

You took his hand in yours, a pleading look in your teary eyes. “It wasn’t pretend for me,” you admitted. “I love you. I have for ages.” 

Aaron’s heart stopped for a second. His dreams were coming true and dying at the same time. You, you were his dream. 

And you were hurt. 

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He paced the hospital waiting room, every muscle in his body tensed as he waited on news of you.

“Mr. Hotchner?” One of the nurses called. “It’s only family right now-”

“I’m her boyfriend, all of her family lives out of state,” he semi-lied. He wanted to be your boyfriend. You’d told him you loved him. He just put two and two together. 

“Alright then,” he smiled, leading him into your room. There you were in the bed, still as pretty as ever, doped out of your mind on painkillers. “I’ll give you two some space.”

Aaron sat beside you as your heavy eyelids opened and closed in an attempt to stay awake, he smiled.

“Sleep, we’ll talk when you wake up,” he smiled. 

“Promise me you’ll be here when I wake up,” you whispered, grabbing his hand. 

“I’ll be here,” he promised. 

And he would. He’d stay in that hospital with you until you were discharged, then he’d take care of you at his home, then he’d ask to be your boyfriend. 

A pretty great start to a love story if you ask me. 

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

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#aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x reader #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner fanfiction #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction

[saintjosie]

apologies if you’ve talked about something this before, but your post on experiencing exclusion in trans fem circles on account of being an east asian woman who speaks up came up on my dash and it reminded me of something that‘a been troublingme.

i’m also asian and trans, and i’m always really sent off-kilter when i see white trans people idealizing japanese aesthetics and asian people in general. so many white trans people use anime tropes and aesthetics while also othering real asian people, esp other asian trans people. does it feel appropriative/fetishistic to you?

i guess it’s just something that echoes general white-centric society but it feels like a lot of white trans people focus more on their transness and forget that their whiteness doesn’t just go away or get excused, if that makes sense

this is a great ask with no easy answer. the short answer is yes, you’re absolutely right, but there is also a lot of nuance that’s very important to address too.

white people in general have an enormous problem with misunderstanding the difference between appropriation and appreciation. and that applies to appropriating the culture of all people of color because appropriation is a symptom of colonization. part of that is because it’s very difficult to have a catch-all definition that clarifies the distinction between the two because each person approaches the things they consume in a different way, with varying levels of excitement. i simply cannot point a finger at all white people who enjoy anime and say, “this is bad”, because it simply is not true. it would be just as harmful if a white person were to say, “i would never watch anime because i think it’s weird”, because while appropriation is objectively a form of colonization, appreciation is a celebration of diversity. and celebration of diversity is good!

but i think you hit the nail on the head when you say that a lot of white queer and trans people forget that even though that they are oppressed by cis heterosexual patriarchy, the intersection of oppression that exists between oppressed identities and race means that as white people, they still have white privilege. full stop. and so we often have this issue, especially with young queer and trans people (young as in newly realized queerness and transness, not age) where there is a pause in deconstructing whiteness because they are too focused on deconstructing the privilege that they have suddenly lost by embracing their marginalized identities.

and the issue goes even deeper when you realize that people of color also struggle to realize that we often also perpetuate and contribute to oppression of other people of color as well. east asian people in particular forget that even though we are people of color, we do not face the same kind of oppression that black and brown people of color do, and often we perpetuate racism through appropriation of black culture and also just straight up racism. i think most asian people can attest to how often asian people can be racist as fuck. and i’ve definitely seen asian people who think it’s acceptable to make aave and using the n-slur a part of their personality. and at the same time there is an enormous problem with black people fetishizing asian people and latching on to anime and k-pop in ways that perpetuate the oppression of asian people, as well as just being racist towards asians in general.

and root of the issue is that white supremacy affects all of us. EVERYONE has whiteness to deconstruct because we all live in a system that was built on white supremecy, even if we do not have white privilege ourselves. the answer is that everyone period must bear the burden of constantly deconstructing whiteness, deconstructing our own privilege, and doing our part to lift each other up. and while it is true that white people often have the most work to do in deconstructing their own privilege, none of us are absolved.

[permanentswaps]

Building Each Other Up Pt. 2

Read Pt. 1 here.

Mark's POV

"Fuckkk," I muttered, flexing and feeling up my body and arms. The sensation of Shane being expelled from me, while surprising, actually felt really good—almost like a mental-only orgasm.

Shane, now in my body, was still sitting on the floor, looking up at me with wide, confused eyes. I took a moment to take it all in, before finally looking down at him.

"Shane, you okay?" I asked. “Or should I call you Mark now?” I said with a smile.

He blinked a few times, shaking his head as if to clear it. "What the hell just happened?" he asked, his voice—my voice—definitely a bit angry.

"I don't know, man. This is new for me too. I guess... I guess I pushed you out. Are you alright?" I said.

"No! Dude, what the fuck, why wouldn’t you get out?"

I raised my hands defensively. "I'm sorry, Shane. I didn’t mean to stay that long. I was just having such a good time training, and I wanted to help you out."

His eyes narrowed, frustration evident in his tone. "Well, that fucking sucked to be trapped inside my head for that long.”

"I know, I know," I said, my voice earnest. "I'm really sorry. I got carried away. It won't happen again."

"Okay, do we have any more of the potion on hand? Is that all we need to swap back, you think?" Shane asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Wait, wait, hold on," I said quickly. "You're out now. Why don't we just stay like this for a little bit? I'll keep training in your body, and you can actually enjoy the time off rather than just being locked in your head."

He looked at me, still clearly annoyed but weighing his options. To swap back, he knew he would need to jump into my body and go through that whole process again. And who knows if he’d be able to actually force me out of this sexy body if I didn’t want to leave?

Shane sighed, running a hand through his—my—hair. "Okay," he relented. "But just a few days. And you better not pull any more stunts."

I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Scout's honor. Just a few days, I promise. And I’ll keep pushing hard at the gym to make sure you're in the best shape possible for the competition."

Before he could change his mind, I left the gym and walked out to my car and quickly took a few selfies.

---

The next night, I invited Ali over. It had been over a week since we’d last met up, and I was excited to be able to fuck him without Shane being there—it felt more intimate.

I wasn’t entirely sure how Shane felt about the sex part of the arrangement. Usually, if I even hinted at the idea of hooking up with a guy, he’d retreat into his subconscious and not be a part of it. He didn’t have a problem with me doing it per se. I mean how could he, it was his idea first. But I just think he found the whole thing a bit weird to not be in control of. I kind of got off on that back in the day, but I respect that he doesn’t.

But now, this was going to be the third time I’d hooked up with Ali. Maybe Shane would have a problem with me hooking up with the same guy so consistently—he probably wouldn’t want to give Ali the wrong ideas about this body.

Well, the good thing at least is that I’ve only really been messaging Ali on Grindr so far. I had made a profile using Shane’s pics on my own phone so that I could keep the fun going even when I was out of it. I made sure to have a secret backlog of photos too. All that to say, there’s not a huge risk of Shane finding out.

When the doorbell rang, I opened the door to see Ali standing there, looking hotter than ever in his tank top, beads of sweat still glistening from his workout. I could tell he had come straight from the gym, and the sight of his toned muscles and confident stride sent a jolt of excitement through me.

"Hey," he greeted me with a warm smile as he stepped inside. "You look great."

"Thanks, you too," I replied, my eyes drinking in the sight of his fit, athletic body.

We made our way to the living room, and as we settled in, Ali turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, I was thinking... how about we go on an actual date tonight instead of jumping straight into the hookup?"

I was taken aback. A date? I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a no-kidding date. Usually, the hot bottoms Ali’s age didn’t give my old body that kind of chance. I was more just a fun older fantasy for them—a quick, no-strings-attached daddy thrill.

"An actual date?" I repeated, a mix of surprise and curiosity in my voice.

I hesitated for a moment, processing the words before saying, "Sure, why not? I’d like that."

We went downtown to a movie theater and watched the latest superhero movie. The place was packed, but we managed to get good seats near the back. About halfway through the movie, during a particularly quiet moment, Ali reached over and gently took my hand in his. I glanced over at him, and he gave me a shy smile. Sure we had already fucked, but something about the innocence of the gesture made my heart race.

Later, as the movie progressed, I decided to make a move of my own. I shifted my hand from his and placed it on his muscular thigh, rubbing it up and down. My large hand practically swallowed his thigh, making it look small in comparison. Ali turned to me and grinned, biting his lip.

When the credits rolled and the lights came up, we both stood and stretched, exchanging amused looks as we mimicked the superhero poses we’d just seen on screen. Damn that tank top left nothing to be desired as he flexed his biceps for me.

As we walked back to his place, we joked the whole way there.

"Damn, you're really funny," I said, nudging him playfully with my elbow.

"Thanks," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I try."

When we reached his apartment building, I turned to him, feeling a bit reluctant to end the night. "I had a really nice time tonight. I really want to do this again sometime."

"Oh yeah, me too," Ali said with a grin. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "But we aren't done yet." He opened the door and gestured for me to follow him up to his apartment.

I felt a thrill of excitement as I followed him inside. His apartment was cozy and stylish, and filled with cool travel memorabilia.

"So, what now?" I asked, leaning in closer.

Ali smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, we could start by picking up where we left off in the theater."

I didn’t need any more encouragement. I leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips and the warmth of his body pressed against mine.

We have a seat on the couch, and Ali wastes no time straddling me. I grab both sides of his waist, guiding him as he grinds on me through our clothes. The friction is intoxicating, and I can feel my dick getting hard, pressing insistently against my jeans.

Ali's hands are all over my pecs, exploring the firm muscles beneath my shirt. "Take it off," he whispers, lifting the fabric and tossing it aside. "Flex for me."

I oblige quickly, flexing my chest muscles, watching his eyes light up with desire. He leans in, moving to the side to lick my hairy pits. He moans, "God, you smell so good."

I grab the back of his head, holding him there with a firm but reassuring grip. The sensation of his tongue against my skin is electric, sending shivers down my spine. Eventually, he lifts his head, his eyes glazed with lust. He stands up, strips down in front of me, and straddles my waist again. This time, he’s naked, and he starts rubbing his hard cock between my pecs.

The feel of his smooth skin and the sight of his cock sliding between my pecs almost makes me lose control right then and there. I’m already on the edge, and I haven’t even entered him yet.

Ali takes off my pants, his fingers grazing my thighs as he pulls them down. He positions himself over my cock, looking down at me with a mix of anticipation and desire.

"You ready, cutie?" I ask, my voice low and husky.

"Yes, sir," he replies, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Good boy," I tell him as he slowly starts to sit, taking in all of my manhood. The tightness and heat around my cock are almost too much to bear. He moves at his own pace, adjusting to my size, and I can see the concentration and pleasure on his face.

He finally settles down completely, and we both let out a groan of satisfaction. I grip his hips firmly, guiding his movements as he starts to ride me. The rhythm builds slowly at first, then faster, more urgent.

"Fuck, you feel so good," I murmur, my hands roaming over his body, caressing his skin.

Ali's hands are braced on my chest, his fingers digging into my muscles as he rides me. "You too, sir," he gasps, his head thrown back in pleasure. "Soooooo fucking good."

I thrust up into him, meeting his movements with powerful strokes. The intensity of the connection between us is overwhelming, and I know I won’t last much longer.

"Come for me," I urge him, my voice rough with need. "Come on, boy."

With a cry, Ali's body tenses, and he spills his load over my chest. The sight and feel of him coming is enough to push me over the edge, and I climax inside him, filling him with everything I’ve got.

We collapse together on the couch, breathing hard and spent. Ali rests his head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.

"That was amazing," he says after a moment, his voice soft and content.

"Yeah, it was," I agree, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You were incredible."

He looks up at me with a smile. "So, when can we do this again?"

"Anytime you want," I reply, feeling a rush of happiness. "Anytime you want."

To be continued…

[canthelpit0]

Silent

Pairing: Matt x reader

Wordcount: 1.8k +

Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…

Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc

(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)

I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.

But it’s been years now.

I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.

Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.

It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.

It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.

There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.

Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.

The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.

Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.

In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.

Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.

He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.

I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.

I’ve been watching everyone.

Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.

Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.

I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.

But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.

Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?

I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.

There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.

I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.

Her son is apparently mute too.

When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.

Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.

So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.

Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.

I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.

She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.

I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.

I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.

I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.

Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.

I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.

I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-

Suddenly I bump into someone.

I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-

I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.

“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.

“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.

I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.

So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.

It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.

I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.

He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.

“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.

I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.

I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.

He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.

I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.

Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.

I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.

Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.

Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.

I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.

I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.

His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.

Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.

He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.

I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.

“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.

He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.

“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.

And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?

The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.

So I nod.

I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.

And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…

Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.

We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.

“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.

I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.

I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.

Masterlist

A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life

#sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo x reader smut #sturniolo fanfic #Spotify

[villifix]

fairy wings and bloody knees ♡ | daryl dixon

word count: 1.9k

A/N: this is really just daryl and reader's daughter. reader is mentioned but not seen during this fic. eventually i will get around to making a part 2 with daryl x reader! this idea was inspired by @louifaith and i included a piece of artwork by @vaebun at the end of the story that is absolutely ADORABLE. please take a moment to view both of their blogs for great content! ♡ also i didn't do much proofreading so forgive meee

"I like your fairy wings."

It took a moment to register the words before Daryl realized they were directed at him, and another moment for him to realize that - shit - so was a pair of big brown eyes. His boots came to a slow stop as he regarded the child. The girl couldn't have been older than six, a tiny little thing with unruly curls and scabbed knees, gripping a piece of pink sidewalk chalk in one hand. Her curls fell into her face as she leaned to try and look behind him, clearly wanting another glance at the wings on his vest.

The fuck?

"Ain't no fairy." Daryl muttered gruffly, unsure of what to make of the girl. A lock of hair clung to the corner of her mouth and she pushed it away, smearing pink chalk over her cheek in the process. He let her walk behind him as he quickly scanned the area, looking for any sign of a guardian but it seemed the girl was just out playing on her own; it was strange to him, to be in a place where someone would feel safe enough to let their child outside without being right behind them. It reminded him a bit of his youth, before his mother died, when she'd send him out to ride on his bike and tell him to be back when the streetlights came on. Different times. Now, that sort of thing felt too irresponsible. Too risky - even with walls.

He felt a pressure against his back and jumped, turning to look at the little girl as she grinned up at him. Her hand was still raised in the air, fingers outstretched and tinted pink. Daryl had half a mind to tell her to quit it, to go find her mom or pops and leave him be, but a little giggle tumbled past the girl's lips and he found himself short of words. Not a moment later she turned and bounded, leaving Daryl alone. For the remainder of the day, he was entirely unaware of the little pink handprint lingering on the back of his vest.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The following day, Carol was the first to notice that Daryl had managed to acquire a shadow. She met Daryl’s eye as Aaron led him and Abraham down the road and the archer found himself pausing at the hint of a smirk playing on her lips. “What?” Daryl questioned, eyes narrowing at the amusement painting his friend’s features. Ahead of him, Aaron and Abraham noticed him hanging back and came to a stop, waiting. “Spit it out.” “Just think you’ve got an admirer, that’s all.” Carol teased, looking past him with a knowing smile. Frowning, Daryl turned to follow her line of sight just in time to see a familiar mop of curls duck behind a mailbox. Daryl let out a quiet huff, shoulders relaxing minutely. The girl wasn’t any good at hiding - not with the way her whole body could still be seen behind the base; she’d clearly dressed herself that day, too - floral overalls clashing with a bright, striped shirt. It didn’t look like she had any chalk that he’d have to be on the lookout for, at least. He could still hear Rick’s chuckles from the night before when he’d pointed out the handprint on his vest. With a dismissive shake of his head, Daryl turned back, moving to continue on with Aaron and Abraham. “Ain’t nothin’. Just a kid.” “Look at you, already a hit with the ladies!” Abraham chaffed, earning a pointed scowl.

“Stop.” Aaron glanced between the two men with a relaxed smile, sparing a glance towards where the girl peeked her head out from behind the mailbox, watching from a distance. Aaron offered a little wave, to which the girl returned a cheeky smile, pressing a finger to her lips as if her presence was a secret between the two of them. “That’s Remy.” “Remy?” Daryl echoed, unamused. “Yeah, Remy. Short for Remington, but for your own safety just call her Remy.” “Remington?” Abraham cut in, unable to contain the amusement in his tone. “Like the rifles?” “I think so. I’m pretty sure her dad picked it.” Aaron told them, motioning for them to follow as he continued down the road. He’d mentioned wanting to introduce Abraham to one of the community members that ran the construction projects for Alexandria, and planned on taking Daryl to speak with Deanna after; she was still figuring him out, trying to decide which job would suit him best. He might’ve had time to brew on how much he couldn’t stand Deanna’s attempts to categorize him if his thoughts weren’t still stuck on the girl - Remy. Daryl glanced back over his shoulder, just enough to notice that she was trailing behind as they walked, eyes downcast and focusing hard as she balanced on the curb of the street while she followed. “She always just out here on ‘er own?” “Not exactly,” Aaron explained, considering his words before adding, “mostly just in the afternoons when she doesn't feel like sitting in class with the other kids. She's usually with her mom whenever she isn’t helping in the infirmary. Actually, I've been meaning to take you all by there - have you met (Y/N) yet?” “Nah.” Daryl muttered, finding no recollection of the name. “What about ‘er dad? He dead?" “Well, no. That’s, uh… a bit more complicated.” A brief silence fell over the them, and when Aaron peeked from the side of his eye to see that Abraham and Daryl were both still waiting for an answer, he let out an uncomfortable sigh. After looking back to ensure Remy was far enough that his words wouldn’t carry, he continued in a softer tone. “Her dad is around but not really around. It’s a long story - and really, not mine to tell - but... alright, they have an arrangement that Deanna settled between them. He gives Remy half of his rations every week, outside of what he hunts for the pantry, and (Y/N)... well, I guess you can say she has 'custody'. Like I said... it's complicated.” While Daryl’s lip twitched with irritation, Abraham let out a low whistle. “Well, ain’t that 'bout a bitch. Whole world goes to shit and you still can’t get outta child support.” It took a solid few seconds for the redhead to register that Daryl and Aaron were both staring at him, deadpanned, before he held up his hands in surrender. “I’m just sayin’!” Daryl didn’t find any of it funny in the slightest. It was bad enough that a kid had to grow up in a world like they were living in, but to have a deadbeat dad on top of it? And the Alexandrians, they just let it slide - let him give her some food and throw the rest of his duties as a parent aside.

Bullshit. This place, these people, this attempt at 'normal' life. A bunch of bullshit.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Talking to Deanna left him in the same spot he was in before. For whatever reason, she couldn't seem to figure out what to do with him even though he already knew the answer was obvious. He didn't belong in these walls, wasn't built for playing house and acting like there weren't monsters lingering around dark corners beyond the streets of Alexandria. It wasn't the dead that really bothered him, not after Terminus... not after the Claimers or Grady Memorial.

There were people out there that would come across a place like this and do the unthinkable and it wouldn't matter how nice their houses were or what casseroles they could make - they would suffer because they were weak and unprepared. He wasn't built to sit back and be vulnerable. He needed to be out there, hunting or scavenging or making sure the people that would hurt them stayed far enough away.

He thought going out and catching some game could clear his mind some. So, after stopping by and checking out his crossbow, Daryl headed towards the gate without much of a plan except to get out of the walls. But of course, it wouldn't never be so easy.

If he hadn't been so on edge in this new place, he wouldn't have heard the sniffle. It didn't take very long to find the source of it - Remy, pressed up against the trunk of a maple tree, blood trailing from her knees down to her ankles. She'd had to have fallen, tearing open scabs that were still healing. Though her knees were bloody and raw, cheeks wet with fresh tears, she didn't seem to pay them any mind.

Following her gaze to where she stared off in the distance longingly, Daryl quickly pieced together what was really upsetting her. Lingering by the front gate, in conversation with one of the other Alexandrian men, was a man with a hunting rifle strapped onto his back. A Remington rifle. That was her dad. Her dad, getting ready to go out on a hunt while she sat here with torn knees and a yearning heart. Well... he'd be damned if he were going to walk away from that.

"Must be clumsy." His own voice sounded foreign to him as he took a step into her view, trying hard to sound casual though he wasn't entirely sure how to approach the situation. Those big puppy-dog eyes looked up at him and he could have sworn he felt like somebody kicked him in the gut.

"Clumsy?" Remy echoed, confused, and sniffled again as she reached up and swiped her nose with the back of her arm.

"Means ya fall a lot." Daryl explained.

"My daddy's leaving." Remy blurted, lower lip quivering a bit as she looked past Daryl to see the man finally stepping out the gate, pushing it shut behind him.

Daryl looked over his shoulder towards the gate, acknowledging the man's departure with a sideways glance. "He come tell you goodbye?" Remy merely shook her head in response and Daryl hummed, unsurprised. He looked down to her knees, considering, before pulling a rag from his pack and kneeling down beside her. "Here, lemme see."

Remy extended one leg as Daryl gently reached for her ankle, watching with a pout as he wiped the blood from her shin before switching to the next leg and doing the same. Her knees were still bleeding a bit, but her legs weren't dripping blood anymore, at least. When he dropped her second leg, Remy blinked up at him through watery lashes. "I want Mommy."

Daryl met those doe eyes of hers, thinking back to the conversation with Aaron earlier that day. He'd mentioned Remy's mom - (Y/N) - helping in the infirmary. Seemed the girl probably needed to get some gravel cleaned out of her knees, anyways...

"C'mon. Let's go find yer ma." Daryl told her, pushing himself back to his feet and holding out a hand for her to grab onto to. As soon as Remy pulled herself up, though, she tried to take a step and limped, whining loudly. Not a second later, Daryl was instinctively scooping her up, resting her on his hip; and Remy, instinctively, reached up to wrap her arms around his neck as he carried her towards the infirmary to see you. Her messy curls tickled his stubble as she tucked her head against his neck, and if it weren't for that alone, then surely it was when he walked into the infirmary and laid eyes on you for the first time that Daryl Dixon knew one thing for certain...

He was so fucked.

artwork by @vaebun !! ♡

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon imagine #twd fic #twd imagine

[x0xomady]

But Daddy I love him !

(based on the song from TTPD)

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

warnings: smut, p in v, marijuana consumption, overstimulation, oral sex, pet names, 18+

(harrystyles!dealer x female reader) both are 18!

summary: senior year of high school y/n falls in love with the new plug at school.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

i HATE high school.

that might sound stereotypical like i’m one of those emo girls that hates everything, but i’m not. i just HATE high school.

for the first couple years everything was going great. freshman and sophomore year were so much fun. i had a big group of friends and i was pretty popular. i was even dating the cute skater boy! it was literally a teenage romcom like ’10 things i hate about you’.

however, that all went to shit.

the downfall of my teenage years first began when my asshole ex thought leaking my nudes to the entire junior class was a good idea. so naturally instead of standing up for me, my friends turned on me and said i was a slut.

after that traumatizing incident, i learned one thing. high school is temporary so why waste my time on bitchy friends?

that’s the attitude i had coming into senior year and it’s the one that’s kept me going for the last few months.

i stopped dressing preppy and popular because my “friends” wanted me too and i started dressing like i want to.

life is going fucking great now. i smoke weed, go to class, and binge watch gilmore girls. i don’t have to go to those god awful parties on the weekends, i can just relax.

the only way thing going bad for me right now was the fact that my dealer moved away. now i had to find a new one which isn’t hard, just annoying.

from what i’ve heard there’s 2 other dealers on campus. one is a freshman that steals shit from his dad and sells it. the other one is a random british guy that moved here last year.

i’m probably going to choose the new british guy.

so that was my goal for today. i’m going to find the new british guy in my class and buy weed so i don’t die during midterms week.

from what i’ve heard about this mystery british guy is his name is either harvey, harry, or harden. i’ve also heard he’s insanely hot and rejects all the girls that ask him out. although, if we’re being real here, most british guys are hot just because of their voices. so, i’m doubting he’ll be that hot. he’s probably going to have nasty ass teeth and be short.

walking down the halls of the school is kind of fun for me. i blast music in my headphones and pretend like i’m not in this hell hole. my outfit is casual and comfy so i’m honestly pretty confident right now.

as i walk into my first class i sit in my usual seat i see a new guy sitting next to me. i glance at him and can’t remember if i’ve ever seen him before. i don’t think i’ve ever seen him, but i can say for a fact that he is very, very, VERY attractive.

the new guy is sitting back against his chair, manspreading of course, with his headphones in. he’s wearing a black hoodie and dark blue jeans. he looks so casually perfect it’s slightly alarming.

i turn towards the front of the classroom as my teacher begins to drone on about different math equations. however, throughout the 50 minute class, my eyes kept wandering back over to the very attractive boy sitting next to me.

i TRIED to keep my thoughts off of him. i mean, i have completely sworn off dating and crushes for the rest of high school because of the last one that fucked me over.

my thoughts are cut off by the boy tapping me on the shoulder. my mind freezes and i turn towards him.

“yeah?” i try to act all nonchalant and mysterious but i said yeah WAY to quickly and excitedly.

the boy smiles slightly and leans over whispering to me. “do ya get a thing he's droning on about?”

oh fuck. the british accent.

“no i really don’t i'm completely zoned out right now.” i whisper back to the british boy.

he nods and leans back in his chair watching the teacher talk. he is sitting there with his knees casually spread and his arms crossed.

we sit there for another 10 minutes listening to the teacher talk about different functions until he announces.

“alright for the last 15 minutes of class go over the problems on the board with the person next to you.” the teacher points to the problems then sits at the desk so we can all work with our partners.

the boy smirks and turns his head back towards me. “ready to fail together?”

i can’t help the small smile that creeps onto my lips. i usually try to stay pretty unbothered and calm at school, but something about the way this curly headed boy was smiling at me made me a bit giddy.

AND he has weed, small plus.

“yeah lets do it” i nod and we start working on the equations together. he scoots closer to me and rests his head propped up on his arm while i start writing things down.

he watches me write for a second before speaking up. “y’have pretty handwriting.”

i look at him a bit surprised but smile a little bit. blush slowly creeps up on my cheeks as he compliments me. “really? never heard that before.” i shrug.

“yeah never seen someone write their three’s with a curl before. it’s adorable.” he smirks and looks up at me for a second before looking back down at my writing.

i’m about to speak up again but the teacher cuts me off. “if you haven’t finished the problems yet, do them tonight and turn them in tomorrow morning.”

he looks over at me with a smile, “we still have quite a few questions left."

“yeah this is going to take a while.” i sigh looking down at the 32 questions we have to work on.

he turns his body towards me more and props his arm up against the back of the chair next to me. “where do you eat lunch?”

i shrug. “probably in the library today because i have a fuck ton of work to catch up on.”

“hm okay. mind if i join you? we could finish the work then.” he has a small smile on his face while i sit there looking flustered as ever.

“oh yeah sure.” i nod and smile a little bit. “i’ll just be on the couches in the back. come find me.” he nods and we both exit the classroom.

holy shit. THAT was the guy i’m supposed to buy from? i’m going to be needing a LOT more weed than i thought.

throughout all of the drama that went down junior year, i have had one friend remain loyal to me. y/bsf/n and i have been friends since freshman year of high school and have stayed close ever since.

as soon as i walked out of math i rushed to find her. naturally, i found her touching up her makeup in the girls bathroom.

“GUESS WHAT?” i squeal as i burst into the girls bathroom.

she immediately drops her mascara and whips around to face me. “WHAT WHAT”

i smile and grab her shoulders. “I’M EATING LUNCH WITH THE HOT BRITISH PLUG”

y/bsf/n face drops and she squeals excitedly. “OMG I SAW HIM THIS MORNING HE IS SO- ”

“can you guys shut up? i’m trying to wash my hands” a random girl glares at us.

“um no? can you go wash your shit covered hands then leave?” she snaps back at her. the girl rolls her eyes and walks out of the bathroom.

i’m too excited to even care. we stand there for the next couple minutes before class starts talking about what i’m going to do and how to talk to him.

another girl walks up to the mirrors and suddenly turns to us with an “i’ve got gossip” look. “you know i heard he only wears long sleeved hoodies and shirts to school because he’s a heroin addict that’s covering track marks.”

both y/bsf/n and i roll our eyes and shake our head. “that’s a dumbass rumor don’t spread shit like that.” i glare at her.

the girl rolls her eyes and shrugs. “might be true.”

“wait wait pause.” my face drops as i look at y/bsf/n.

“what?”

“i don't even know his name. the only thing i know is that it starts with an H” my eyes widen in the realization that i didn’t even introduce myself in class today.

“uhhh i think it’s harvey? i’m like 80% sure.” she shrugs and continues doing her makeup in the mirror as i stand there freaking out.

“harvey?! like steve harvey? theres no way thats his name.” i roll my eyes.

“whatever, just ask him! oooh maybe if you guys hookup he’ll give you free weed!” she smirks at me.

“NO i’m not using him for free stuff. that is so fucked up.”

she rolls her eyes and applies her lipgloss. “fine fine. be all moral if you want.” the bell rings and the both of us leave the bathroom. i head towards my english class with the elated feeling of what’s to come.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

by the time lunch rolls around i’m feeling giddy as ever. y/bsf/n had been hyping me up for the last four periods which wasn’t helping my excitement die down at all.

i walk into the library building and walk to the back where my usual lunch study couch is. i set my tote bag and lap top down and get comfy waiting for “H” to show up. if his name is actually harvey theres no way in hell i’ll be able to take him seriously.

after about five minutes he walks over and plops down on the couch next to me. “ready?”

“yeah lets finish this shit.” i nod and pull out my work while he grabs his. “so can i ask your name? i totally forgot to ask this morning.”

he pauses and turns to me with a smirk. “wait you don’t know my name?”

my eyes widen and i try to play it off. “uh… no how would i know your name?”

he instantly starts laughing and covers his mouth. “really? we’ve been in the same math class for 5 months!”

i stare at him in shock and guilt for a second before snapping out of it and smiling. “i’m sorry. i’m pretty zoned out or high during math.”

“yeah i got that.” he smirks and looks at me. “i even know your name y/n”

i feel blush start to creep up my cheeks as i hear my name drop from his lips. is it from embarrassment or being flustered? we’ll never know, but it’s probably a mix. he knows my name? fuck.

“oh i’m so sorry.” i meet his eyes with a nervous and embarrassed look.

“no you’re good. this is only the second time we’ve ever interacted so i understand.” he still has a smug smile on his face. “well my name’s harry.”

“ohh harry? my friend told me something completely different.” i smile. thank GOD i didn’t call him harvey. i would’ve died from the humiliation if that slipped out.

harry smirks and looks back over at me. “wow already talking about me to your friends? good to know i make an impression.”

my face heats up at his teasing words, but i try to play it off. “well it’s not often a british guy sits next to me in math.”

“yeah i guess thats true.” harry nods and leans back against the couch. “i’ve always known who you were. which might sound creepy but i promise it’s not.”

“really?” how would he know who i am? besides math we don’t have anything together. we don’t even run in the same friend group.

“yeah you’re like the hot girl that got trashed by her friends right?”

i roll my eyes. “yeah thats me. i’m guessing you saw my nudes.”

harry frowns and shrugs. “i didn’t look at them myself but i heard descriptions. i’m not a pervert i wouldn’t look at some random girls nudes.”

“okay thank you but, oh my gosh hearing about it is 10x worse!” i groan in embarrassment.

“hey, it’s not your fault. that ex and those “friends” of yours were total assholes for doing that to you.” harry gives me a sympathetic look before returning to the math problems.

“wait. if you’ve been in my class this whole time how have i not seen you before today?” the realization hits me that i’ve never even seen harry in class before. i would’ve remembered if i had, he’s not a face you would forget seeing.

harry shrugs. “i usually sit in the back on the other side of the classroom.”

“oh. so then why did you sit next to me in the front today?” i look at harry slightly confused.

“because you’re pretty.” he smirks at me.

my eyes widen and i blush a little. “oh thank you.”

for the next 30 minutes we talk mindlessly back and forth while working on our homework together. as lunch time comes to a close i remember why i was originally seeking out harry.

“hey i totally forgot to ask, but are you selling?”

harry puts down his notebook and crosses his arms looking at me with a small smile. “hm depends what you’re trying to buy.”

i roll my eyes and give him a look. “i think you know what i’m trying to buy.” harry chuckles quietly and continues teasing me.

“wow what is an innocent girl like you doing trying to buy pot?” he looks absolutely gorgeous like this. he’s leaning back comfortable with his arms crossed. those emerald green eyes search my face with an amused grin. “i think you’re daddy would be disappointed if he knew.”

“oh whatever.” i try to act annoyed but the way he is looking at me right now is intoxicating. “so you have it? because if you don’t i’m going to have to go to that weird ass freshman.”

harry laughs and rests his head agains the back of the couch. “of course i have something for you y/n. except i don’t sell at school so if you want something you’ll have to come over later.”

oh. OH go to his house? don’t have to ask me twice.

“yeah for sure.” i nod at him and play it off with a smile like i’m not internally squealing with joy.

harry pulls out his phone and holds it out for me to take. “put your number in and i’ll text you my address.”

my heart beat speeds up as i take the phone from him carefully. i quickly type in my number and create a contact with my name as, ‘y/n 💞’

a bright smile appears on his face when he sees my contact in his phone. harry glances back up at me and says, “god you’re so cute.”

i blush brightly and feel extremely flustered but i ignore it and nod. “text me your address and i’ll come over after school.”

harry smiles and nods. “alright.” he quickly types something into his phone. i hear a ding from my phone and see a text message from an unknown number. harry’s address is written so i quickly set the contact to ‘harry 🍃’

“cool see ya later y/n” harry nods at me and exists the library.

“bye” i sit there in shock of everything that just happened. he called me cute AND pretty? tonight is going to be un-fucking-real.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

the first thought that comes to every girls mind when they are invited over to a guys house is, their outfit. so that’s where i am now. running around my room throwing shit around trying to find a cute outfit.

y/bsf/n was sitting on my bed telling me different things. “okay don’t wear a skirt that’s trying WAY too hard.”

“i know!” i groan and drop all my skirts on the ground before scrambling back to my closet.

“y/n look. the more you try the more shallow you’re going to come off. so just wear jeans and a cute top.” she shrugs and throws me a pair of my low rise jeans.

“yeah yeah you’re right.” i sigh and put the jeans on with a cute top, and my outfit is ready to go.

“ugh SO cute honey. you’re gonna wipe that sexy ass off his feet.” she claps happily and smiles.

i roll my eyes but smile. “okay whatever i have to go.” i kiss her cheek than head towards the door.

“yay go get high and laid bitch!” she giggles as i leave my bedroom.

harry’s house is a 15 minute drive from mine so i had to leave now if i was going to make it. i hate to admit it, but the gnawing feeling of anxiety and nervousness was finally hitting me.

usually when i’m over at guys houses, it’s very chill and i’m not worried because theres no reason to be. however, this time i’m actually nervous because i’m actually into the guy i’m seeing.

sure we only met officially today, but he’s hot, nice, and he has weed. what’s not to love?

as i drive up to harry’s house and see a decently sized house with a couple cars parked outside. i park on the street and touchup my makeup before walking up to the front door.

before i can chicken out and run away i ring the doorbell.

after a few seconds i hear someone run down the stairs and open the door. there, looking hot as ever, is harry. he’s wearing a white wife-beater tank top, and of course, the heavenly gray sweatpants.

it takes every ounce of self control in my body not to check him out.

“oh hey y/n. come in.” harry smiles at me and opens the door so i can enter his house. i step inside and see the typical suburban house. it’s very clean and there’s voices coming from the kitchen.

“thanks for letting me come over” i look up at harry as he is closing the door behind me.

“yeah for sure. cmon let’s go upstairs you don’t want to meet my parents.” he smirks and nods towards the staircase.

“okay” i nod and follow him up the staircase towards his room. it’s always fun going to other people’s houses and seeing little glimpses of what they’re day-to-day life is really like. it’s easy to put on a persona at school and hide yourself, but at your own home it’s impossible.

harry’s house is extremely nice. his parents have to be doctors or something because this is definitely upper middle class. there are pictures across the walls, awards for each person in the family, and paintings. It looks like harry has a sister… cute.

“that’s pretty.” i say pointing towards the large pairing hung in the middle of the wall. the painting really is beautiful. it was a picture of what looked like the New York skyline at sunset.

harry turns around and looks at the painting and then me. “oh yeah. my mom made that.”

“really? she's talented” i smile and continue following him down the hallway towards his room.

“hm yeah she’s an artist. we have a fuck ton of paintings around the house.” harry shrugs and opens the door to his room with me trailing behind him. “anyways… this is my room. just sit anywhere while i grab my shit.”

i nod and plop down onto the beanbag chair next to his desk. harry hums quietly as he goes over to his drawers and starts rummaging through them. harry’s room is decorated completely with posters, a guitar hung on the wall, and pictures pinned up.

i couldn’t help but admire him for a minute. it really was surprising to me how attractive this man was. theres cute guys, and then theres hot guys… like harry.

he continues looking through his drawers for a minute before pulling out a small paper baggie. i watch him put a couple things into it and then walk over to me.

i take the bag from harry gratefully and look up at him. “how much do i owe you?” i ask while pulling out my wallet.

harry shakes his head and sits down on his bed. “how about you smoke a joint with me and we’ll call it even?”

“really? that sounds like a win-win for me and a lose-lose for you. it’s fine harry i can pay.” i protest while opening my wallet and looking at him expectantly.

“mm nope. sounds like a win-win to me. i get to supply you so you don’t go to that weirdass freshman and i get to smoke with the pretty girl from my math class." he smirks and pulls out a joint shaking it between his fingers teasingly at me. “it’s alright y/n first times on me.” i roll my eyes but sense that he’s not going to give in and let me pay him.

“fine, fine, but next time i’m paying okay?” i never felt good about taking things for free. it made me feel like i owed a large debt to them in the future.

“sure whatever you say, love.” harry shrugs and pulls out his lighter and then pats the spot on the bed next to him. “now get up here with me so you can pay up.”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 2 hours later ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

how did i end up straddling harry’s lap? good question! i have no fucking idea.

it started out chill. we were passing the joint back and forth while having a casual conversation. we talked about the bitches at our school, our summer plans, blah blah blah.

it was all going great and chill until harry decided to switch things up. maybe it was the fact that we are both baked, maybe it’s that we’ve had a weird sexual tension since this morning, but it switched up so fast.

it first started when harry made a comment about my lipgloss.

“hm i’ve never had strawberry pot before.” harry smirks and hands the joint back to me. i look at harry confused for a second trying to figure out what he meant.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean… you’re pretty pink lipgloss is getting all over it and it’s making it taste sweet.” he has the most smug look on his face as he leans back against the headboard of his bed.

i roll my eyes as harry teases me about my lipgloss. “quit acting like you don’t like it.”

“i never said i didn’t like it! i was just saying, i think i have some lipgloss on too.” he chuckles and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. there was, in fact, lipgloss. oops.

i’m too high to even care so i just start giggling at harry’s fake angry expression. my giggling pulls a small smile onto harry’s lips.

“hey! i’m just trying to be a good friend here. you need to moisturize your lips regularly curly.” i erupt into a fit of giggles as harry simply smirks and takes another drag.

“oh you’re such a good girl trying to keep my lips moisturized.” harry rolls his eyes sarcastically and hands me the joint. i take it him from him and take another hit letting the smoke fill my lungs before turning back to harry.

“seriously harry, i’m a great friend. girls won’t kiss you if you have crusty ass lips.” i try to say that with a serious and straight face but i instantly burst out laughing again.

“wow what would i do without you?” he chuckles and takes the joint from me. “you know now that i’ve tasted your lipgloss… i kind of want to taste those pretty little lips of yours.” harry grins and taps his index finger agains my lips lightly.

i smile and shift so i’m sitting on harry’s lap straddling his hips. “that’s fine with me.”

harry puts the joint down on the ashtray next to his bed and rests his hands on my hips. “really that’s okay with you?”

“mhm” i nod and bring my hands up to play with his curls. harry’s green eyes search mine for a second before placing his hand on my cheek. he hums and traces his thumb carefully across my bottom lip.

“such a pretty thing hm.” he smirks and leans his head forward nudging my nose with his. i smile and play with his curls.

“so… can i have a kiss petal?” harry cups my cheek and leans in. without hesitation i lean in and connect our lips. harry sighs against me and holds my head close to him.

i wrap my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss opening my lips to him. harry bites my bottom lip and pulls away for a second. i smile and look at him. “you’re a good kisser”

harry hums softly and kisses me on the jaw making me blush slightly. his hands grip my hips lightly has his kisses make their way down my neck.

“so fucking pretty, you know that? i’m obsessed with you” harry mumbles against my neck. “how did i not ask you over sooner?”

i smile and shift my hips so i’m sitting closer against him, a light blush painting my cheeks. “you should’ve. i would have said yes.”

“hm that right? i’ll keep it in mind.” he smirks and pulls my hips against him. his kisses continue to travel down my neck before stopping at my collar bone.

“lay down for me y/n” he says while kissing my neck.

i roll off harry’s lap onto my back onto his bed. he smiles and crawls over me. he props his arms up on either side of my head. harry looks so hot above me.

“can i taste you petal?” his bright green eyes turn dark filled with lust as he looked at me desperately. i nod eagerly and press my lips against him once more.

“please harry, need you.” i let out a soft moan as harry nips at my neck and travels down my body until he’s between my legs.

“gonna let me see you y/n?” he asks before pulling down my jeans and tossing them off the bed. i nod and watch as harry smirks up at me. his eyes travel down from my eyes to my core.

“so fucking pretty i swear.” he hums and presses a kiss against my clothes center. i moan quietly as his lips travel down my panties before pushing them to the side.

he pulls my panties to the side and lets out a groan as he presses a sweet kiss to my clit. i gasp and hold harry’s hair tightly.

“you taste so sweet baby.” he hums against my clit, sending vibrations up my body. i tug harry’s hair to escape the delicious torture but he just smiles up at me and continues kissing me. his thick ring clad hands holding my hips against his face.

“please harry- ” i whine and press my hips up against him. he sticks his tongue out flat and runs it up my pussy while keeping eye contact with me.

he pulls away for a second and grabs the joint for a second. his lips wrap around it taking a deep hit while watching me sit there impatiently. he smirks and pulls the joint from his lips pushing it between mine. “hold that for me petal.”

i take the joint willingly and take a hit while harry reconnects his lips with my core. i let out a groan as harry sucks my clit between his lips just as he did with the joint.

my body is racked with pleasure as harry hungrily sucks on my bundle of nerves. my hand holds his curls tightly as he eats me like a starved man.

“fuck harry!” i gasp as harry pushes his middle finger into my tight hole. he continues lapping at my clit while pumping his finger into me. the ring resting at the bottom of his finger left a cool sensation run through my body.

“how are you so bloody wet?” he moans against my core while adding a second finger to the mix. my pussy clenches against him greedily as the sensations filled my heat.

harry moves his fingers faster while wrapping his lips around my clit once more. my hips buck up against him searching for the last bit of stimulation needed before i could let go.

“fuck m’gonna cum harry!” i gasp as he speeds up.

“that’s it pretty girl. let go for me, i wanna taste your sweet mess.” he smirks up at me and adds a third finger. this pushes me over the edge, my body consumed with pleasure. harry helps me ride out my orgasm by lapping at my core gently.

he crawls up my body and hovers over me. “i need to feel you baby. is that okay?” he whispers as he presses kisses to my neck.

i nod and wrap my legs around his hips, pressing my core to the front of his sweats. “please harry.”

harry groans and pushes his bulge against me for some relief. “okay petal. gonna fuck you.” he quickly tugs his sweatpants down and kisses my neck. “ready baby?”

i nod eagerly watching him. he sighs and carefully pushes past my tight entrance. my body eagerly welcomes him as i hold onto harrys shoulders tightly for support.

“oh fuck harry!” i groan as he pushes in all the way. he’s much thicker and longer than i thought he would be. my walls tighten against him tightly as he pushes to the hilt.

“so tight and wet for me.” he sighs and pulls back so it’s just the tip left in. harry moves his hand from my wait to my stomach so it’s resting just below my belly button.

as he pushes back into my cunt his large palm presses down on my stomach. at this angle i’m able to feel all of the veins and ridges decorating his cock. a loud whine slips past my lips as harry continues fucking into me.

he quickly brings a hand to hold over my mouth while the other continues to press down on my stomach. “shh i love hearing your sweet moans baby, but we can’t let my parents here.”

he picks up the pace, and the only sounds heard are the obscene squelching coming from where harry is fucking into me. he changes his angle a little bit and my body instantly floods with pleasure as i gasp.

“there it is.” he smirks and continues pounding into me at that angle. the tip of his cock perfectly hitting my spot as i moan into his hand.

harry moved his hand away from my mouth and brings it down to play with my abused clit. he groans as i clench around him and he picks up the pace.

“so- fucking- tight” he groans and pushes his face into my neck to muffle his moans. his hips continue to snap up into my mine while his fingers move quickly against my bundle of nerves.

i’m so overstimulated from the orgasm before this, so it doesn’t take long for my second to build up. “harry!” i whine as his hips move against mine furiously.

“yeah? gonna cum again for me? that’s good baby, m’gonna cum for you.” he moans against my neck and keeps his quick pace up.

my walls clench around his thick cock tightly as my body finally releases. i bite down onto harry’s shoulder gently to muffle my moans. harry groans out and thrusts a few more times sloppily before letting his release paint my walls.

we both ride out our orgasms slowly for a couple minutes. before harry pulls away shakily and speaks. “we’re doing that again”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

2 months have past since harry and i first got together. it’s an understatement to say we enjoy each others company. as y/bsf/n said, we’re “fucking like bunnies”

if we weren’t at harry’s house, i was sneaking harry in through my window. luckily, harry’s parents were very chill and always let me come over. i’d really grown to like his mom, sister, and dad. my parents however, had NO knowledge of harry. if they did, i’d be dead.

harry and i are currently cuddled up in my bed at 1am. i always had to wait until my mom and dad are asleep before letting harry in through my window.

so, here we are now, wrapped up in each other whispering about dumb things.

“ugh anyways i hate her bitchass.” im currently complaining to harry about a girl in our class that’s being an ass to me.

“me too.” harry whispers back. his arms wrapped around my waist so im pulled against him. his tight embrace comforts me like nothing else. i can almost forget all the shit i endure at school when i’m with him.

“you don’t even know her.” i giggle as harry presses kisses to my jaw.

“doesn’t matter. i hate anyone who fucks with my girl.”

i roll my eyes and smile at harry’s cheesy comments. he pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head. i cuddle into his chest as he starts talking about other things.

“i’m so obsessed with you baby.” he whispers against my neck making goosebumps travel down my spine.

“i’m obsessed with you too.” i grin and kiss a sweet kiss to harry’s cheek. in all honesty it is much more than that. i can feel it, im very quickly falling in love with harry.

“good, because you’re mine now.” he whispers and kisses my neck.

it was WAY too soon to tell harry i loved him. i mean for fucks sakes, i’ve only known him for a few months. he is just one of the few teenage boys that has ever been truly kind to me.

harry and i continue talking about mindless things. both of us are too wrapped up in each other to realize how late it is.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

my door is burst open as light pours into the room. i immediately sit up and panic fills my body. my dad and mom stand there looking furious as the see harry sitting there next to me.

“i- uh” i don’t even know what to say in this situation. my parents are NOT easy going people. this is quite possibly, the worst case scenario.

“who the fuck is he?” my mom yells as he sees harry sitting up. my dad is completely dead silent which is even scarier to me.

“i-im sorry- this is harry.” i say quietly.

“harry? oh so you’re bringing random guys into your room?” my mom yells loudly.

“no mom! this isn’t a random guy! this is harry, my boyfriend.” i quickly stand up and stand between my parents and harry. i give harry a look saying ‘don’t talk’

“YOUR BOYFRIEND?” she looks absolutely furious screaming her head off at me. my dad is completely silent and just glaring at me and harry.

“i’m sorry okay? we’ve been together for two months and we really like each other.” my eyes are begging my mom to stop yelling in front of harry.

instead, my dad steps in. “how could you bring a boy into your room? let alone be sleeping in the same bed as him!”

“i’m so sorry. i just really like him and wanted to spend time with him!” harry is quietly watching, not interfering with our argument.

“NO! you cannot see this boy anymore! get him out of my house!” my dad yells and points at harry.

“w-what? daddy please no!” i beg him.

“no! you went behind our backs and brought a boy in our house!”

“that’s because i knew you wouldn’t let me see him! please don’t do this!”

“yeah you’re damn right i wouldn’t let you see him. i don’t want my daughter getting knocked up at 18! you’re not even out of high school yet!”

my eyes prick with tears as i desperately try to defend harry. without thinking, the words slip out.

“but daddy i love him!”

everyone freezes. i feel guilt and embarrassment flood my body as the words spill from my lips. my moms mouth drops as she looks between harry and i. my dads angry face dissapears as he looks at me in disbelief. harry is sitting there with a small smile on his face.

“you what?” my dad looks at me with utter disbelief.

“i- i-,” i hesitate and glance at harry. he looks overjoyed at my words despite the situation. “i love him…”

“you love this kid? why? you’re a teenager y/n! you don’t know shit about love!” my dad says firmly.

fuck it

“yes i do dad! i know that harry makes me 10x happier than anyone else on the planet! i feel so completely happy when we’re together! that’s why i brought him over tonight. i was having a shitty day at school and needed to feel happy for once.”

i let out all my emotions to my parents telling them how much i love harry. “you can’t make me stay away from him! i love him!”

my parents look shocked at everything i say to them. they turn to each other and whisper quietly. i stand there unsure as they talk. harry remains silent as he stares at me with a small smile.

“okay y/n… maybe we’re a bit too strict with you” my mom says quietly. “you’re 18 you can have a boyfriend.”

“r-really?” this was coming from the same woman that wouldn’t even let me have a boys number in my phone until i was 16.

“yes. you deserve to be happy. we’re just looking out for you honey. we don’t want you to make a mistake and end up pregnant at 18.”

i nod and look at them with eyes full of gratefulness. “so i can have harry over to the house now?”

my dad sighs and rubs his forehead before nodding. “just no sex under my roof, okay? i don’t want a grandchild yet.” he glares at harry.

harry nods and finally speaks up. “of course sir. i care for y/n a lot. she’s an amazing person and i plan on taking care of her.”

he looks at my mom and then back to me and harry. “fine. but no more sneaking through the window, got it?” he looks at me sternly.

“yeah of course!” i grin and hug my dad tightly. “thank you.”

“okay y/n… walk him out for the night. we’ll continue this conversation later.”

i nod and pull away. my parents exit the room and head towards their bedroom. i turn back to harry and smile.

harry smiles back and gives me a peck on the forehead.

“i love you too petal.”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

hope you loved this! i definitely plan on writing more for this story.

(i was a lil high when i wrote this so ignore the bad parts hehe)

- xoxo

#harry styles #x0xomady #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #one direction #dom harry styles #fanfiction #smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles imagine #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #stoner!h #weedry #one direction imagine #hsmut

[bandgie]

What Sub? - SKZ OT8

just me thinking about what kind of sub skz would like :p

MDNI 18+ | gen!reader

chan!

likes an obedient sub! chan is such a good dom and loves pleasing his sub, so he expects you to be on your best behavior. that saying, he doesn't mind if you get a little shy or pout a little. maybe even give him a little bit of a hard time, but it can't be often. chan overall needs a good sub that he can pump his load into

minho!

he likes a teasing sub or a slight playful masochist. one that can put up with his antics and a little bit of back n forth. not a full on brat because he would get sick of that attitude real quick, but a few ass slaps and hair pulling never hurt no one. i do think he would want his sub to be more on the obedient side, but it's okay to have a little fun with him too

changbin!

power bottom!! he needs a power bottom!! he's a pleasure dom 100% and can't say no to his baby. you can take take take and he'll give give give!! you can be a little mean to him too, but he needs lots of kisses after. doesn't care what position you put him in as long as he gets to see you cum your brains out. however, there is fine line with him. it's rare, but sometimes you cross it and bin has to put you in your place, and he hatesss making you cry but when you're being a bad sub he needs to show you.

hyunjin!

he loves a devoted sub. basically someone who completely submits and does everything he says. like chan? but way more emotional and no room for disobedience at all. he loves seeing how happy and relaxed you are when he's doing his thing. hyunjin is also a pleasure dom, but he still likes to be in control. if you do break a rule, it's honestly a turn off. accidents happen and yeah maybe you get into it a little too much, but it's when it's purposeful and results in him feeling bad. Hyunjin's a good boy, and it's only fair he has a good sub

han!

is it possible for both of you to be subs...because hannie goes crazy for that. desperate sex is so in his field, so I think a sexual submissive sub is really his thing. basically someone who would do anything and everything sexual for their dom. he wants to do an icky role play? his sub will gladly agree. he wants to be treated poorly? like a god? yes and yes, a sexual submissive will do anything for him. he loves that so much and just telling you what he wants to do and you happily agreeing has him leaking

felix!

this one is hard because I think Felix likes anybody, but imma have to say a service sub might be his fav. he gets to lay back n relax and he gets to cum?? sounds like a great night. it's not like he won't do anything for you, but the thought of having someone to make sure to milk his cock dry is so hot. if you do well, he'll reward you after. but right now, making sure you can see his chest turn pink and little tears build in his eyes is all you need to worry about.

seungmin!

i know it's gonna sound so basic, but a bratty sub. the resisting, the fight for power, the inventible submission...yeah he likes that. this type of play can't happen all the time. it's very draining and takes a mental/physical toll, but it's so damn fun. he loves when he pretends that you won, letting you pin his arms above his head and grinding on his cock to your liking until he's had enough and flips you over. gripping a fist full of your hair and shoving your face in the sheets as he fucks into you. muffling your cries and whimpers and - sorry I'll stop (aftercare goes crazy btw)

jeongin!

jeongin needs someone who listens really good, so a bedroom submissive is the way to go. they're really similar to a service sub, but it usually involves a little bit of pain and being submissive only takes place in the bedroom whereas a service sub is usually someone who likes being a good sub outside of the sheets. jeongin likes seeing you turn into a different person during sex. getting to flip you in different positions, spitting in your mouth, making you please him, making you take how much he pleases you. possibilities are endless and he thinks it's a healthy balance between personal and social life

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz hyunjin #skz changbin #skz seungmin #skz bangchan #skz ot8 #skz han jisung #skz lee minho #skz lee felix #skz lee know #skz felix #skz seo changbin #skzsmut #skz i.n #skz x reader #skz imagines #changbin #lee know #bang chan #han jisung #poly!skz

[sinning-23]

Baby Mama (OPLA HEADCANNONS)

In honor of mothers day, here some little headcannons I cooked up for our faves! Hope yall enjoy lol

Luffy

-This mf was like...actually capable of conceiving a child lmao.

-There was really no like initial shock, it was more like overwhelming joy? There was honestly no need to reveal it to the rest of the crew since the second you told him he shouted it loud ad fucing possible.

-"Luffy, uhhh I think im pregnant." You huff, hand over your forehead as you try to figure out the next course of action.

"YOURE PREGNANT?! THATS GREAT!"

"Y/N IS WHAT?" Nami gasps, eyes flitting form you to Luffy, then to your belly.

"YOU’RE PREGNANT?! HOW?" Usopp questions, only to have Sanji interrupt,

"Well Usopp, when two people love eachother- or well... lets talk about he birds and the bee-"

"I KNOW HOW THAT WORKS DICKHEAD-"

-Luffy is a.....he's a great dad, just a little uhhhh...wild?

-You have to explain tho him that this baby cannot fucking eat solid food.

-He's learning and that’s all that matters. He knows when to get serious about his kid and when its okay to be a lil silly.

-Oh and be prepared for when your kid hits about 6-7 cause they're so much like their father its crazy-

Zoro

-He's thuroughly convinced its your fault because he knows for a fact he has impeccable pull out.

-"That’s not mine." He hums, pointing at the newborn with a raise brow.

The fucking liar this baby is his spitting image. Like your genes didn't evens stand a chance. The baby even fucking mean mugs like he does, that lil stoic face.

-"This isn’t yours?" You question, holding the baby up side by side with his obvious father.

"Nope"

-Once he’s like fully processed and accepted the fact that your pussy just so happened to weaken his pull out game, he will claim the child and make sure he's being helpful with both you and the infant.

-It was actually pretty fucking hilarious to see the baby try and latch to his nipple cause his tits are fucking massive. Heeee didn’t think it was that funny tho💀

-Just let the kid grow up a little bit and they’re all about their father, and even though he may not show it all the time, he adores his baby. And they will always be a baby in his eyes. And he things you’re a phenomenal mother even though it was sort of a surprise.

Nami

-You had come aboaded with a toddler. And sure enough they latched to Nami in a heartbeat.

-“AHT! No, you stay with me and let them work.” You reprimand, giving a quick apology to the tangarine haired girl.

“Oh no they’re okay. Hey, you wanna see something cool?” He hum, taking the 2 year old by the hand before you can protest.

-Auntie Nami accidentally turned to ‘mamami’ (Mama Nami) andddd it just stuck.

-one night the three of you had fall asleep in Nami’squarter and she had woke up and just, admires you both. She couldn’t help the way her chest squeezed when she thought about raising this child with you or how much she loved being a part of your lives.

Your eyes flutter open and you give her a knowing look, her face already tinted pink.

“Nami,” you begin, your free hand pushing hair behind her ear as she hold your wrist, placing a kiss there.

“Thank you, love you.” You hum, letting yourself fall back asleep.

-yeah she’s stuck with you two for life

-unironically calls you her baby mama

Usopp

-is literally the best fuckinf dad. Literally ever.

-he wants to make sure he’s an active part of your child’s life, being sure to keep you both in good health and high spirits.

-when you broke the news he was terrified. How good of a father could he be? He just don’t want to let you down.

-“W-What if our kid hates me?” He voices one night, hands holding your tummy.

“I doubt that’ll happen. You’ll be okay Uso.”

-Guess having impeccable aim runs in the family because by time your child is year they’re already throwing projectiles with phenomenal accuracy.

-you can’t tell me he doesn’t make most of your babies toys.

-he loves seeing you just have little moments with your baby, he definetly cried when they took their first steps.

-keeps a picture of the three of you tucked away

-hints at wanting another one from time to time

Sanji

-fainted when you told him.

-honestly he’s a little shocked. He didn’t really put ‘father’ on his goal list but here yall are lol

-he’s very supported and knows that morning sickness is a bitchhhh

-“how’re my girls…or boy” he greets, pressing a kiss to your tummy then to your lips.

-much to his surprise, he was right on both parts because you’re having twins! Yayyyyy

-you cuss him out when your in labor.

-“SANJI YOU ASSHOLE! YOU DID THIS TO ME! WHY DID I FALL FOR YOUR DELICIOUS FOOD YOU FUCK!”

-he’s not allowed in the delivery room lmao he fainted again when the nurse asked if he’d like to see what was goin on

-after 6 horrendous hours, your baby boy and girl are finally born and he’s too delighted.

-“good job baby.” He praises, peppering your tired face with kisses.

-when the kids are older he’s always falling victim to their puppy eyes and begging when they ask for dessert before dinner

-“please dad! We won’t tell mom! Pleaseeee!”

-he loves being with you and loves that he’s been blasted with a wonderful wife and two beautiful children

Shanks

-oh the minute he found out he was stunned! He was sure he already had an illegitimate baby somewhere but for one of the baby mamas to actually let him know was, a bit of a surprised?

-and that’s it. He doesn’t really go out of his way to go visit and see if it’s true. He goes on about his business truely.

-one day, he comes across a lady at a bar, her bright red hair thrown up and she waits tables, her gaze almost immediately locking on his as she frowns

-….what the fuck she looks just like him.

-she goes to a couple other of the waiters/waitresses and the minute they catch his gaze they’re nodding profusely at her.

-it took, shit you not. 3 hours for them to get a table and that was only because her boss came in and MADE her seat the crew.

-“what do you want.” She huffs, her notepad clenched so tight it crumples the paper.

Shanks only further studies the girl, her rage ever present as she slams the notepad down.

“I SAID, What. Do. You. Want. Quickly, or I’m leaving you here to wait 3 more hours. Spit it the fuck out you old bastard.” She spits, leaving him somewhat shocked.

-“How about the-“

-“we’re all out. Deadbeat.” She finishes, dropping her apron and notepad, then walking out.

Safe to say that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

-when he finds where you guys live and YOU answer the door thank god, he firstly apologizes (which you don’t accept right away) and explains how he already met your daughter.

Speak of the devil she had just rounded the corner asking who it was.

“Don’t let this fucker the house mom, please.” She begs, gaze flittering form you to her sperm donor.

-yeahhhhhh this is why he hardly ever makes the effort to see his unsuspecting kids. Doesn’t quite pan out how he thinks.

Mihawk

- you’re not the only one at all. He’s got plenty fucking kids running around and you’re fully aware of that, having run into more than one child that looks just mf like him.

-he won’t deny any of them, but he doesn’t feel like he owes them anything either? It’s weird and you usually feel bad that he picked you and your child when he could very well have done that for the rest of them.

-he often assures you that we’re were one night stand situations he hardly remembers after being so damn drunk.

-he’s a good dad though and a great husband. He makes sure you’re taken care of even is he’s gone a lot of the time. When you told him you were having a baby he didn’t leave from your side.

-when the baby is born he’s a bit suprised they don’t look like him but as soon as they open their eyes he’s so mf smug. Those eyes are a dead giveaways that’s his baby.

-don’t let that baby ask for something be used Mihawk will without a doubt give it to them no matter what.

-“Honey I-“

-there standing in front of the fridge, in laminated with its light are your husband and child. Their eyes wide like an owls, staring directly into your soul.

-“We wanted ice cream.”

Buggy

-he loves his babies. Hands down loves his fucking babies. Plural because of course you were blessed/cursed with triplets.

-two boys, one sweet girl, and not one of them look like their daddy, besides that faint tint of blue in their hair.

-and he’s maddddd, well. not at you but at his genes.

-“honey wait, they might just grow into it?” You encourage, trying not to laugh as he tried to figure out why his kids don’t look like him.

-thank god you were right because by time they were all 4/5 that blue had brightened and the little red glow of their noses were ever present.

-he’s so attentive with you, taking care of the three of them when you need rest or just in general cause how gorgeous wife needs rest after making three gorgeous babies

-freaks his babies out when he takes his head off

-then they won’t leave him the fuck alone about it and will often take pieces of him while he chases them around for them back.

-his babies get their own spot on the show and it fucking adorable watching toddlers dance to circus music with face paint they insisted they do themselves

-best dad buggy 100%

#x reader #one piece #reader is black #one piece live action #i don't care he's hot #headcannons #one piece x reader #opla #hes so hot #opla luffy x reader #one piece zoro x reader #nami x reader #opla usopp x reader #opla sanji x reader #opla shanks x reader #opla mihawk x reader #opla buggy x reader #Mother’s Day headcannon

[imwetforyourmom]

used

summary: chris discovers his girlfriend’s secret tiktok account, and what he finds on it makes him regret everything.

warnings: angst, yelling, swearing, shit talking, toxicity, breaking up

a/n: thought of this after listening to happier than ever by billie eilish. I do not apologize for what this fic contains.

a/n 2: not entirely sure if the song matches up great w the fic but like, its what I listened to while writing it

not proofread

~

“get out.”

of course chris would’ve respected her privacy, but when her phone was blowing up with notifications every 30 seconds he really couldn’t help but let his curiosity get the best of him.

he grabbed her phone from beside him on the bed and unlocked it, going to see what app it was that was blowing up, seeing tiktok at the bottom of her phone screen with 99+ notifications. his eyebrows raised, he tapped the app and pressed her account, missing the notification button.

his face dropped when he saw her videos, her description and her profile photo, all consisting of negative things. her description saying nothing but ‘I hate chris” like an immature middle schooler rage baiting, but he knew she wouldn’t do it for fun.

he tapped the first video posted, reading the first section of the slideshow before swiping to the second one, his heart dropping to his ass with each word he read.

“i fucking hate chris so much, kid wont give me any space, he’s so nosy and obnoxious and loud …” chris stopped himself, knowing what he read next was going to be way worse, he knew when y/n hated something, she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and list everything she hated about it, in cruel ways.

he scrolled down to the next video, his vision already blurring with the tears pooling in his eyes. before letting himself even try and read it, he clicked out of the video and went to notifications, wanting to see what else she’d said about him.

seeing her messages spammed, he checked it, in hopes of people disagreeing but what he saw only tore his heart apart more.

the most recent text she’d sent someone was “I hate chris so much ..” he was sure there was definitely way more messages sent about her passionate hatred for him further in the messages, but he didn’t want to see them, he wouldn’t do that to himself.

he clicked her phone off and set it on the bed where he found it and turned to his side, curling into a ball, facing away from the door and letting his tears fall down his face, his chest ached and his stomach felt like an endless pit of nothing, he shut his eyes and held his breath tightly, attempting to cry quietly.

~

when y/n walked back into the room from her small trip to the gas station with nick, when she saw what laid on the bed, shaking shoulders, muffled sobs and chris in a ball, a million thoughts raced in her head at once and her heart rate increased incredibly fast.

“chris?” she whispered hesitantly, walking over to him and gently tapping him on the shoulder hesitantly.

chris sat up, his cheeks red and tear-stained, his eyes bloodshot and his chest moving up and down rapidly. he shoved y/ns hand off him and stared at her, a disbelief look in his eyes.

“dont fucking touch me.” he spat, his voice attempting to be stern, but failing miserably and going shaky, but still getting the point across.

“whats- whats wrong?” y/n sat down next to him, a shooken look in her eyes.

“what the fuck do you mean ‘what’s wrong’? I saw everything! I know everything.” he grabbed her phone and unlocked it, pressing tiktok and shoving it in her lap.

“what the fuck is wrong with you!” he stood up, his voice raising and his sad demeanor quickly changing to angry and in disbelief.

“I- I-“ y/n attempted to speak but she couldn’t bring herself to, she didn’t want to lie and say she liked him, but she didn’t really watch to hurt his feelings—well, I mean, he did see everything on her tiktok, so, fuck it.

she stood up as well, “I dont fucking like you chris! that’s whats wrong! you’re always up in my personal space, always so fucking childish and immature, you don’t act your age and it’s irritating, chris!” y/n yelled, throwing her arms to her sides, trying to make a reason of why she said all of that.

his gaze hardened, he blinked rapidly to push away the forming tears, “then you should’ve said something before going off to the internet, y/n, those fucking online people can’t do anything about it. only you and me!” he rolled his eyes at her stupid actions.

“why’d you even stay with me if you hate me so much, y/n? you know I love you, why’d you do that to me?” his voice lowered, his eyes filling with tears again, thinking about how much she probably faked their relationship, how many ‘I love you���’s she’s faked.

y/n swallowed, she was gonna be truthful, she’s already hurt chris’ feelings with lying, so why lie even more now that he knows.

“I liked the attention on online, I liked how many followers I got, I liked being noticed, chris, is that too much to ask for?” as bad as she wanted to feel bad, she couldn’t. she was glad chris found everything, now she wouldn’t have to fake everything, everyday.

“you used me for my fame?” he asked, his voice breaking and his eyes no longer being able to withhold the tears falling down his cheeks.

“of course I used you, chris! you thought I actually liked you?” she asked more with sympathy, finally feeling the kick of doing and saying all of those things about chris. she finally felt the pang of guilt to her chest.

“yes, I actually thought you loved me, y/n. I thought you were actually just as in love with me as I am, I thought you meant all of those ‘I love you’’s and ‘I miss you’’s, I thought we were in a genuine relationship, y/n. i wanted to be able to put a ring on your finger, i wanted to be able to call you my wife.” chris’ tears fell down his face even faster now, his hands clenched in fists at his sides as he spoke with honesty.

y/n looked at him, his disheveled appearance and the sincerity in his eyes made her heart ache.

“I would’ve never done that to you.” sobs ripped from his throat with each word he spoke.

“i’m sorry, chris.” y/n said, unsure of what else to say, as guilty as she felt, she didn’t regret anything she’d done or said about him, she truly hated him with a passion.

chris swallowed one of his sobs, “you dont get to say that to me,” he looked at her phone, then her and the door.

“get out.” he finished off, waiting for her to leave, his eyes holding such a deep sense of something, y/n couldn’t look him in the eyes.

she nodded silently, grabbing her stuff and leaving his room, he could hear the front door shut as well.

taking in a breath he held his composure, leaving his room and walking upstairs. heading for matt’s room, he knocked on the door and without warning he walked in, closing the door behind himself and standing at the doorway before looking up to meet matt’s eyes, his eyebrow arched at his brothers sudden appearance.

his face immediately softened once he heard a sob from chris’ throat and caught sight of his brothers face, tear stained cheek and bloodshot eyes still filled with tears. he opened his arms for him, inviting chris to lay in his arms and cry as much as he needed to.

chris walked over to matts bed, taking a seat right next to him, but putting his torso onto matts and stuffing his face into the crook of his neck.

matt rubbed his back, whispering and humming soothing words, his heart aching for chris. he’d never want to see his brother in this state, but he was glad he came to him rather than dealing with it alone, thats all he’d ever ask for.

1143 words.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @sturn-bugz

@maryx2xx @mattsmad @dollyspsychoxo

#sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris sturniolo angst #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #angst #christopher owen sturniolo #Spotify

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XIX

<- Previous Chapter I

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Well, well, my dears. I enjoyed writing this chapter, knowing it’s going to be Alastor’s Point of View next… It’s going to be very interesting and exhausting to go inside our favorite psychopath’s mind. Once again, beware; Blood, Killing, Gore. Please, tell me your thoughts and of course, enjoyed this chapter.

“ That’s how you want to seduce them? Girl, you would have to pay me for me to fuck you. You can’t seduce just with your sweet doe’s eyes. Don’t you agree?”

You tried to contain your anger, knowing that if you didn’t, your eyes would turn red. 

After your delicious weekend with Alastor, you have learned that just like him, you could keep your spirit, if it wanted, so you didn’t have to ask for Papa Legba each time. You talked about it with the old man and he agreed, saying the spirit was eager to stay by your side. It was great, you could feel the spirit near you, but when you were feeling strong emotion, your eyes would turn red. 

Alastor contacted Mimzy so she would teach you how to dance like the women that would be on stage. You didn't really know Mimzy, you knew she was a friend of Alastor, but nothing more. She was a great dancer and a great singer and would be your teacher for a week.

It’s been three days since you started your training and you were wondering if killing Mimzy would be a bad thing.

You stood up from the chair, where you have been sitting with your legs wide open. At the beginning, you would blush as soon as you had to do vulgar movement. Now, if you happened to be red , it was because of anger.

“ What is wrong this time, Mimzy?” you sighed.

“ You need to feel like a woman ! Ask your friend, there is no desire to be fuck in you.”

You stared at Alice, which you asked to come with you to have some courage, and waited for her answer, you face without any trace of feeling. You needed to stay calm or you would project Mimzy out of her club, even out of New Orleans.

“ I think she is doing great, she is just not feeling comfortable.” she looked at you with an encouraging smile. “ Maybe with some music, it would be easier for her?” 

“ I didn’t need any music to learn the moves on the dancefloor, but if it makes her less shitty.” she said before leaving to search for her radio.

You sat next to Alice, playing with your necklace.

“ Killing her would only bring trouble, wouldn’t it?”

“ I think it would.” she said, tapping your back. “ But trust me, my friend, you have amazing moves!” 

You smiled at her, tired. You’ve been going to Mimzy club every day from 8 am to 7pm, trying to dance like she wanted you, trying on dresses that would make your father faint and singing songs that made you want to wash your mouth with soap.

“ You know what, let’s try it without Mimzy here!” she pushed you on stage once more with a big smile. You laughed as you sat on the chair, feeling comfortable. Alice was in front of you, acting like a fangirl saying things like: I want your baby or I love you.

You didn’t know why but you began to sing, even though there wasn’t any music, without feeling any stress. You began to move your hands on your body, going up into your hair while moving your hips on the chair, like you were grinding into it. You threw your head back, letting your hair free themselves from the ribbons that kept them in a ponytail. 

You danced and sang, maybe not like you were used to, but you did remember every step Mimzy had teached you. You would drop on all four, moving toward the edge of the scene, making obscene gestures, keeping your voice steady.

At the end of your performance, you were sitting on the chair, your legs spread with your hand on your chest. You were breathing hard but looked at Alice with a raised eyebrow. 

“ Oh..Doll, what… you.. You were like a succubus…” she said, her eyes wide open before clapping hard in her hands. “ Bravo !”

“ Finally ! I thought you were a lost cause.”

You turned your head toward Mimzy who was looking at you with a satisfied smile. You frowned as you closed your legs. 

“ Now, you need a little more confidence and you will be perfect ! Again. 1,2..!”

You sighed as Alice was cheering for you.

—

“ You look… obscenely delicious my dear.”

You looked at Alastor through the mirror in the hotel’s dressing room you were invited to stay in. He was behind you, his arms behind his back, staring at you with a deer mask, only hiding his eyes, with big antlers. It seemed like it wasn’t only the dancers and singers that were masked. You stared at yourself in the mirror, you had deep black eyes shadows and a bright red lipstick. You were wearing a long dress, with a corset, jewels around your wrist and neck and high heels, higher than you were used to. You sighed, trying to calm yourself.

You were going to dance and sing in front of men that would just look at you  like you were a piece of meat. Even if they were in high society, you shouldn’t feel nervous because of them. 

“ Darling?”

You looked at Alastor who was helding a … Doe’s masks? You tilted your head before smiling. You looked at Alastor as he put the mask on your eyes, hooking it behind your head.

“ Am I supposed to be a doe, Alastor?”

“ My Doe, dear. Now, do you remember the plan? I’m your ‘manager’, if you need a name, call me Victor, I found you in the street and thanks to your beautiful body and entrancing voice, I have decided to take you here, to gain… Money.” you laughed at his disgusted expression. “ Thanks to Mimzy, you will be in the best spot for them to… observe you.”

You laughed as you saw how tense his body was. You stood up, giving him a hug, feeling his suit’s material against your breast. The corset was pushing up your breast, making them look delicious but mostly almost naked. Half of them were hidden by the clothes you were wearing. You were scared that if you made a bad move, your nipples would be shown.

“ Are you going to be okay?” you asked him, caressing his gloved hands. You know you were nervous, but you would be okay. Normally, no men or women would be able to touch you, you just needed to seduce the pig, whose name was Larry but who cared? You were more worried about Alastor, who kept smiling like usual, but you could see his eyes twitch when you were talking about your performance or the dress you were going to wear. 

“ Of course, darling ! This is nothing I can’t handle, do not worry your adorable head about it. I won’t stay far away from you.”  He kissed the back of your gloved hand with a straining smile. You grimaced but didn’t push it, you didn't want Alastor to think you didn’t have faith in you. “ Are you ready?”

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror. Marie had braided your hair so the wig could stay in place on your head, of course she didn’t know why you needed a wig in the first place but she didn’t ask any question. You really didn’t recognize yourself. You nodded at yourself, looking at Alastor through the mirror’s reflection.

“ Let’s give them a show.”

You clinged to his arm as you went to the hall entrance where everyone was chatting. It kind of reminded you of Alice’s party. Everyone was dressed up nicely with expensive jewels and chatting with a big smile on their face. Alastor was his usual charming self, using his deep voice. If he were to talk like he was on the radio, everyone would recognize him which would be problematic.

 You stayed silent, playing your part of the young innocent girl who didn’t know why she was here. You could feel Alastor's body tensing each time someone laid their eyes upon you, commenting on your smooth skin, or your divine body. You would always press yourself against him to calm him down but how would he react once you would be on stage… That was worrisome.

You waited until the butlers of the hotel invited you all to go into another room. The singers needed to go backstage. You looked at Alastor, trying to calm him with your eyes. You couldn't kiss him right now but you wanted him to know you were his. Even dancing and singing for others, it was all a show. You put his hand near your chest, where his mark was still surprisingly here.

He kissed the back of your hand before letting you go backstage. You looked at the other women who were trying to change their makeup at the last minute or changing dresses. You took a deep breath, you haven't gone on stage since Alice’s Christmas’s Eve’s Soirée. You were 16 at the time. Now you were almost 22, you could do it. You would do it.

Someone came to you and gave you your numero. You would be the last one to pass. You nodded but wanted to groan. That meant you would pass after all of the skillful people. You sat on a chair, meditating.  You could still feel your spirit going around you, invisible to all eyes. You smiled, you weren’t alone. 

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you were calling to go on stage. You walked behind the man who introduced you as the “ Hunter’s Doe.” You smirked when you heard it, Alastor ready did choose a fitting name…

You walked to the stage, going near the microphone. You could already hear some whistling which made you cringe. You really respected those women who could manage it every night. You tried to find Alastor in the crowd but you didn’t have the time as the music began.

You held the microphone in your hand as your enchanting voice began to be heard around the room. You almost smiled in delight as you could feel everyone's eyes on you. Everyone was focusing on you thanks to your voice and you didn’t take off one of your clothes yet. You moved around the stage, showing a little bit of your ankle en tugging your dress a little higher, showing off your legs.

You could hear some men whistling and asking for you to look at them but you were looking for one in particular. You threw your head back, showing off your cleavage, arching your back just like Mimzy had taught you. You moved your hand around your chest before sliding into the wig, tearing off the ribbon that held them in a bun. 

Your eyes almost flashed red when you felt a cold touch on your ankle, who dared? You relaxed when you saw Alastor’s shadow on the ground, with his hideous grin as usual. You walked on the other side of the stage, still dancing and singing and it was still following you. It was one with your shadow.

You smirked when an idea struck you.

As the song kept going you dropped to your knees, just above Alastor’s shadows,rubbing yourself on the floor. You knew that for all the eyes on you, it was just a part of the show, you knew that as the crowd was cheering for you to keep going.  But for you, it was to reassure your fiancé. You stared at the shadow, grinding into the floor where its pelvis was supposed to be. You didn’t know if Alastor could see from his shadow’s eyes but you hoped he could see your message.

You were his.

You rolled on your back, your head hanging from the stage where you could see everyone. You spread your legs as you moved your hand on your body, singing with more vigor as you moved your behind against the floor, where the shadow was still waiting. You didn’t feel embarrassed as your legs were open toward the backstage, where no one was watching. You could play your little performance and then leave.

You tried to keep your voice steady as you felt something touching your legs. You flushed while the cold touch was moving around your thigh. You gasped as the lights were flickering, making the guests worried before everything shut down, enveloping everyone in darkness.

You couldn’t see anything. You tried to stand up but you couldn't move. You were trapped. You felt a cold touch on your intimity and you bit your lips. What was Alastor’s shadow doing..?

You put your hand on your mouth, wanting to choke the moan that almost came out as you felt a cold touch on your buttocks. You could feel the shadows wrapping itself around your neck, your breast and your legs, caging you on the floor. It was squeezing you so hard you couldn't breath but you enjoyed it nonetheless. You could feel yourself beginning to get wet, your body shaking with excitement.

Your eyes rolled back as your vision was beginning to be blurry but before you could faint the lights were back on and Alastor was standing at your side, grinning at the crowd.

“ Well, well, it seemed like we had a problem, what a shame you couldn’t see my little doe’s performance. But oh well, I know a lucky man who will join her and will be able to see it for himself.” he smiled before helping you standing up as you were still lightheaded. The men were asking for an encore as they couldn’t appreciate all of your performance. Alastor guided you backstage with a happy grin.

You fell on your chair, looking at him as you took off your mask. He was locking the door, humming to himself while you were fanning yourself.

“ Did someone try to sabotage us ? Who cut the lights off ?”

“ The same person who caged you on stage.” he sang before walking toward you, taking off his mask showing his red eyes. 

“ Alastor, what if–”

“ Don’t.” he smiled widely at you, holding his hand in front of you. “ We are going to forget what happened today because if we don’t, I might kill every man that looked at you tonight.”

“ There are too many, Alastor.” you chuckled, jokingly.

“ 124.”

You stopped laughing, staring at Alastor, your mouth wide open.

“ What..”

“ 124 men were looking at you. And guess what darling, I know more than 124 methods to kill someone. How lucky !” he smiled as he loomed toward you. You shivered as you saw pure madness swirling in his eyes. You could see a cut on his lips, he must have bit his lips so hard it bleed. 

You caressed his cheeks, looking at him while standing up. His eyes were never leaving your figure. You kissed him softly, conveying all your emotions for him. 

“ You don’t need to worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

“ When did I say I was worried?” Alastor tilted his head with a menacing grin. You shivered, he looked perfect, so confident, so full of himself, in his mind you wouldn’t leave him. He was so sure of that..

You were ready to jump on him before you heard a knock at the door. You put your mask back as Alastor went toward the door, his mask already on. He opened the door with his charming smile.

“ Yes ?”

“ Oh hello dear gentleman. I’m Sir Larry’s butler. The monsieur would like to rent your employee for the night, would it be okay for you? He is ready to pay a lot.” you heard the man say as Alastor hummed. He looked at you, you could see his fist clenching around the doorknock. You nodded at him, smiling encouragingly at him.

“ Well of course my dear fella! I shall take her to his room. I guess I’ll have the money there.” he held his arm for you to take. You slid your hands around it as you walked in the stairs, going to the top of the hotel.  You were looking at the people who were having fun, unaware of what was happening behind locked doors. You even saw some policemen making you nervous. You knew your father wasn’t attending, he was having a weekend with your mother.

Maybe John?

Once you were in front of the door, the butler knocked before entering the room, introducing you to the man.

“ Ah! The brightest star has blessed us with her presence.” you looked as Larry stood up with difficulty. He was clearly overweight, you wondered how he wasn’t out of breath after just standing from his chair. “ Now mister… Victor, was it ? Here is the money, I will take good care of your jewel.”

You felt Alastor tense but then he relaxed. Before you could wonder why, you felt an icy touch on your back, sliding toward your ankles. You subtly looked behind you and smiled as you saw Alastor’s shadows becoming one with yours.

“ Please, enjoy this night as if it was your last.”

“ Oh, trust me, I will!” Laughed Larry. 

Alastor kissed the back of your hand before staring at your eyes. You nodded at him before watching him leave with the butler. 

“ Well, don’t be shy, my sweet, come here.”

You looked at the man, who was sitting on his armchair, patting his thighs, clearly inviting you to sit on laps. You walked toward him but stopped at a respectable distance. 

“ What song do you want me to perform, sir ?”

“ Ohoh, what a naive little bird. The only way your mouth is going to be of use, is by sucking me off.”

You could feel Alastor’s shadow buzzing with anger. You looked at the pathetic man in front of you. You knew the walls of the hotel were thick because there were horrible things that were happening in those rooms. Which meant nobody would hear the pig scream for help.

You looked around the room as you gracefully took off your heels. You couldn't find anything that could be used as a weapon so… You walked toward the man who spread his legs eagerly.

“ Alice sends her regards.”

“ What–?”

You plunged your heel in the man's eye. You smiled sweetly, he screamed louder than Alastor’s father did. You tore off his eye, removing it from your shoe. You knew Alastor would want to keep it. You put the eyeball on the table as the man was screaming from pain, holding his head in his hands. You wondered if your shoe could kill him, if you plug the heel in his throat?

“ You bitch !”

You held your hand toward you with a satisfied smile already raising your shield. The man ran toward you, wanting to tackle you on the ground,  but as he rushed toward you, his body passed through your shield, crashing into you, making you feel a huge pain in your eyes. You screamed as you were pinned on the ground, fuzzy.

What happened? You felt like your shield had broken into a million pieces, making you feel a pain like when you were forced off your trance. You opened your eyes as he took your mask off and stared down at you.

“ You little cunt ! You are that bitch’s friend, aren’t you!” 

You saw him raise his fist, ready to punch you but you held your hand in front of you, one more time. His fist crashed against your shield making you feel the same pain in your eyes. You squinted, trying to hold your shield but as the man was looking at his hand, confused, you saw Alastor’s shadow wrapping itself around the man, trying to get him off of you.

You tried once more to push the man off you with your shield but it was like carrying a fucking bear off you. 

You sighed in relief as you managed to get off from under the man as he was struggling with the shadow. 

“ You witch !”

You watched as the shadow came back toward you, frowning. The man was too big for it to hold him on the floor. You bit your lips as the man stood up, still groaning in pain. You weren’t a hunter like Alastor, you would have to win with your own talent. 

“ That’s not how you are supposed to treat a lady, you irrelevant prick.”

You turned your head toward his voice as Alastor came from a dark corner of the room, his red eyes the only thing that could be seen before he stepped in the light. Larry looked at Alastor.

“ Victor ! What..? Just, take care of your woman ! She is crazy, look at what she has done!”

Alastor hummed as he walked toward the wounded man, his arms nicely settled behind his back. He took a look at the man's face who let him. Did he really think Alastor was on his side?

“ Oh, it does seem terrible, you shall excuse my woman, she only has done it once. She will get better!” he smiled at the man before taking out a knife from his pocket and plunging it in the chest of the man. You could see Alastor’s grimace, it seemed like the blade wasn’t long enough to hit any vital organs. 

The man tried to tackle Alastor on the ground but he gracefully avoided it with an excited smile. You watched as his shadow came back to him with its hideous smile.

“ My bad, it’s also my second time. I’m still not used to killing pigs.” he laughed as he played the blade with his fingers. He kept making fun of the man as Larry tried to catched Alastor . After a few seconds Larry fell near the sofa on all fours, breathing hard. You walked toward Alastor with a smile, it would be easier than with his father.

Alastor pecked your lips before looking at the man.

“ Come on, we only die once, you should smile more!”

You freezed as Larry took a gun from under the sofa’s cushions and pointed it toward you. 

“ You son of bitches,” you saw Alastor flinched at the insults but he kept his smile” I’ll send you back to hell!”

You needed to protect Alastor.

You held your hand in front of you as he shot, your eyes buzzing with energy. You felt like you weren’t the one moving your body, the bullet stopped in front of you but this time, you didn’t just stop it. The bullet was still in the air, not moving. You pointed toward the man's direction and the bullet flew, like it had been shot from a gun, right into the man’s thighs.

You just telekinesised an object.

You stared at your hands with a euphoric feeling in your body. 

“ Fuck, what was that !” you heard the pig scream. He shot once more and you did the exact same thing, under Alastor’s fond gaze. You pointed toward the gun, the bullet passing through the weapon, destroying it.

“ Haha ! What a show, folks! That’s the show I wanted to see!” he laughed as he passed a hand in his hair, walking toward the man who was laying on his back, screaming agony as Alastor’s foot dug into the wound you made with the bullet. “ Isn’t it much more interesting that poor ladies who don't have the choice but to be here?” He nodded as the pig screamed once more. “ You are right ! I’m relieved you’ve finally reached the voice of reason.” he crouched above the man, holding his chin with his gloved hand.

“ Now, give me a big smile~!” he said before carving a smile into the man’s flesh. You bounced toward Alastor with a big smile, not caring about the pig’s screams.

“ Alastor, did you see? Did you see what I did? Did you?” you beamed as he stopped working on his living canvas, staring fondly at you.

“ I did, dearest. You looked delicious.” he smirked as you leaned toward him, asking for a kiss which he gladly gave you.  You looked at him as he finished carving the big smile into Larry’s face, the man crying from pain. “ Perfect, now, I just need to let out some steam.” you tilted your head at his words. “ Come on Larry, don’t die on me yet!” 

You lay on the sofa, kicking your feet in the air as Alastor began to stab Larry multiple times. You were almost sad to not have taken a camera with you.  You counted in your head how many times Alastor stabbed the man while encouraging the poor soul to stay alive. Sometimes you would ask Alastor for a kiss because you were getting bored and hearing a pig's screams wasn’t very interesting in the long run. 

Alastor would stop his stabbing on the pig and tug you toward him, kissing you as Larry was begging you for life. He stopped begging Alastor for his life at the 20th stab. Now, he would look at you, pleading with his eyes. But you would just ask Alastor for a kiss each time, kissing him deeply, stroking his bloody cheeks and tasting the blood on his lips. 

Sometimes Alastor’s shadow would tickle you to entertain you. You would clapp with the same rhythm of Alastor’s stab, encouraging Larry to stay alive. 

“ If you stay alive, who knows, maybe Alice will marry you! Come on Larry!”

You think the pig died at the 87th stab. You whined, disappointed but Alastor didn’t stop. He kept stabbing him even as the body was beginning to be cold. 

He stabbed and stabbed and stabbed and stabbed.

124.

He stabbed the man 124 times.

He threw his head back, his face all bloodied.

“ Aahh. I feel better!” he smiled at you, his eyes glinting with madness and fondness. You sat up, stretching yourself with a big grin. You couldn't wait to go home. He stood up and tugged you toward him, kissing your cheeks.

“ What do we do with the body?”

“ We leave it.”

You looked at Alastor with wide eyes. Leaving it here ? He kissed your lips, chuckling at your expression. You shook your head, trying to clear your head.

“First of all, how did you come in? The door was locked.”

“ Well, let's just say I’m working with interesting spirits… Now! I’ll set the room on fire, we need to find a solution on how you could leave…” he looked around.

“ Can’t I pass through the shadows like you did?”

“ Unfortunately, I don’t think your spirit would like that.” he tilted his head with a sorry smile. You looked at the windows.

“ I could pass through the windows and enter another room?”

“ We are in the highest part of the hotel, light of my life. What are you trying to do?” He raised an eyebrow with a mocking smile. You stuck your tongue to him before walking toward the windows, being mindful of not stepping into the pig’s blood. You opened the wide windows and looked around. You smirked, bingo! The room next to you was open ! You looked at Alastor with a teasing expression.

“ No.”

“ We don’t have a choice, Alastor.”

“ Of course we have, you just decided to make this choice because you want to be a brat.”

You winked at him before passing through the windows, putting your feet on the balcony. You would just have to jump on the other balcony and that would be it. You turned toward Alastor who threw you something.

You almost let it drop when you saw it was the pig’s eyes.

“ Alastor !” you seethed.

“ Put it in the other room. See you downstairs, dearest.” he winked at you before lighting a match and throwing it on the bed. You looked as the fire was beginning to be bigger, just from one single match. You jumped on the other balcony and entered the room where a couple was sleeping. From all the bottles of alcohol on the floor, you supposed they had fun… You put the eye on the table, next to an empty bottle.

You undressed yourself, your dress was all bloody. You opened the closet and took a dress, knowing you would have to make it disappear. You took the mask the lady was wearing, you supposed.You took off your wig and hid it in the closet. You undone your braids that Marie has made, making your hair wavy. You dressed up before leaving the room, hurrying to go downstairs. You walked, trying to look confident with your rabbit mask.

You almost freezed when you felt an arm around your waist. You turned your face and recognized Alastor, even if he was wearing a wolf mask. He grinned at you before going toward the buffet and gave you a piece of cake. You smiled at him, eating the delicious cake. You turned your head toward a policeman who was urging everyone to go outside because a fire had started. Alastor guided you outside, but as you were running with everyone, you saw John passing next to you in a rush, going toward the stairs. 

It seemed like he was doing his job well, playing the heroic policeman. 

Alastor and you walked to Alice’s home while chatting about what just had happened. You took off your mask,sighing in relief.

“ It was clever of you to change your outfit knowing the old one would be destroyed by the fire or used to put the blame on the sleeping couple. But, now darling, we are never following your plan again. You will never be a bait, I’ll just do it my way.” said Alastor as he took off his own mask. You pouted but he didn’t let you open your mouth to replicate. “ No.”

You entered Alice’s mansion and sat on the sofa in the living room waiting for your friend to come, which she did, almost tripping on the armchair.

“ Are you okay? I heard there was a fire not too far from here? Does it mean the… the plan is delayed ?” she asked in her pajamas.

“ We know something you don’t know~.” you sang at her. She looked at you, confused. “ The pig is dead, trust us.” you smiled at her and beamed even more when she relaxed in her chair.

“ Thank God… But, the picture..? Is it destroy?”

Fuck, you didn’t think about that.

“ No worries, you ungrateful pest. I took care of it.” Alastor took a picture from his coat and threw it at Alice. “ This is the only one, I looked everywhere.” You looked at him, perplexed.

“ What if he had others in his home?” Asked Alice.

“ I’ve looked everywhere,” said Alastor with a wicked grin. “ So, unless you want to worry about nothing, which would amuse me so please do it, there is nothing that can be used against you.”

Alice sighed in relief, thanking you and Alastor multiple times. Alastor seemed uninterested, looking at his nails before looking at you.

“ I can not wait to talk about it on my broadcast, tomorrow.” you laughed as he began to tell the tale of how a deer and a doe killed a pig because an annoying bird couldn’t do it itself.

“ Am I the bird?” asked Alice, frowning.

“ Of course, you are as noisy and useless as them.”

“ You–!”

 You laughed as Alice and Alastor kept throwing insults against each other. What a good way to end the week.

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[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 11.0k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! actor!au, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), oral (f!receiving), ooc Toji (no, really!!)

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ This is very self-indulgent because I was once again infected with brain worms because of this post.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

Toji is a typecast kind of actor. He started out as just a guy they call in when they need some muscle. He’s got the training for all sorts of things. Martial arts, swordplay. If a background character needs to look believably menacing, he’s the one to get on contract. And over time his bit parts as henchman number three and thug with one line slowly evolved into something more involved, because there is no denying that Toji has a face for film. Eyes that come with a vulpine sharpness, like he knows something you don’t, and a scar at the corner of his mouth that’s as marketable as any beauty mark. Really, he looks mean, but that’s exactly what a villain is supposed to look like. He’s all harsh angles that any photographer would kill to work with. So he slowly builds up a filmography from the most insignificant masked goon to a formidable kingpin, front and center. Goes from an uncredited extra to damn near top billing as a main antagonist and that’s just fine with him when the bigger roles come with a paycheck to match. It’s not anything new for him. Toji spent his whole life fighting and training. How else could he make all those stunts look so easy? It’s only right that he makes a career out of all those grueling days of harsh conditioning. And it sweetens the deal when he finally finds his girl. 

Every villain needs arm candy. It’s a constant revolving door of pretty faces standing next to him whenever the director yells “action!” So many that they begin to blend together in his mind and he spends interviews bullshitting his way through any thoughts regarding his female co-stars. “She was fine, I guess.” And of course, he thinks she did a great job in that movie he’s never seen. Empty platitudes to satisfy the interviewer and keep his manager happy that he’s playing nice about the tedious media circuit. Usually his roles don’t require that much attention to detail. He’s coasted this far on his graveled voice and dour expressions, so he never bothers to pay more than the bare minimum of attention. He learns his line and character names. He knows who the blonde character named Amy is but without the blindingly bright platinum hair he couldn’t pick the actress that played her out of a lineup. So it makes his life a lot easier when they find him a girl that works. 

Something about charisma and chemistry. All the buzzwords he’s fed over conference calls boil down to you being his girl. The perfect match for his onscreen persona. Real pretty with just enough training that you can fill in on most of your own stunts. So it makes sense when the two of you start cropping up as a package deal. If there’s an action movie in need of a big bad, Toji’s name is put forward, and if he needs a girl–and, sometimes, even when he doesn’t–his people are quick to toss your name into the ring. He’s not sure on the details, if your agents have worked out some kind of joint agreement or if it’s just coincidence that all the casting directors settle on you as his opposite but he’s not complaining. 

You’re real easy on the eyes in a way that goes beyond basic celebrity standards. You don’t look standard. The other girls he’s worked with were standardized. All coming in the same kind of package, but with you he can pick out true individual features. He can tell when the makeup artists fuck around with your eyebrows and overdoes your lipstick. Maybe it’s ’cause he’s always looking at you nowadays, but it might also just be how gorgeous you are. Of course he wants to know what such a pretty girl looks like. It’s one of the perks of the profession and Toji is nothing if not selfish about almost everything. He’s not acting for the art, it just gives him the biggest payout at the end of the day. He likes his bank account with a ridiculous amount of zeros and it just so happens that you come along with that. 

He can’t see why his manager is suddenly complaining when your names start getting tossed around in tandem more often than not. Why shouldn’t Toji date you if he wants to? And he wants to. But apparently he’s supposed to maintain a certain aura in the media. Mean and unapproachable. Which he is. There’s plenty of videos of him manhandling the paparazzi to attest to that. But that means he’s gotta be something unobtainable, and making heart eyes–he’s definitely not doing anything like that–at his favorite little co-star is certainly the opposite of unobtainable. 

He tries to be pragmatic about it, saying he’s just keeping in character. Mean to everyone but his girl. But his manager isn’t going for that. Something about your people using him for clout since he’s got a few years of experience on you as the new kid on the block. Still Toji can’t see the problem. This whole damn industry is built on connections and favoritism so why can’t he help you a little if he wants to. The mere mention of his lack of concern has Shiu groaning, the sound chopped up and drawn out by a poor connection. 

“You’re my most difficult client, do you know that?” The man sighs like he’s trying to wrangle a toddler into behaving. 

“I’m your only client.” Toji reminds him, earning a scowl through the laptop screen. 

“And whose fault is that?” Shiu sounds so put out that Toji doesn’t bother entertaining the idea that it’s anything other than his fault. Somehow. Even though it was Shiu that approached him after he spent a couple years as a free agent that productions had to play phone tag with to book. Now he’s at least a little serious about this whole acting thing, but Shiu wasn’t there from the start so he gets what he gets. An insanely marketable asset if the only thing you want to be known for is managing the big, scary guy in every action movie out in the past few years. In pigeonholing himself into what he’s good at, Toji has tied Shiu’s hands but that’s not really his issue. Especially not when he’s pissing him off, telling him to stop talking nice to you. 

“All I’m saying is a little discretion would be highly appreciated.” Toji nods like he’s taking his manager’s words to heart but he knows there’s not much the man can do without shooting himself in the foot by pissing off the only person he’s got on contract. 

The people wanna see the two of you together. Toji wants to see the two of you together. And you’re not putting up a fuss about seeing him on every set you show up to. The only person upset with the arrangement is Shiu, and Toji barely listens to anything the man says in the first place. So when you let slip during a break to reset a scene that you’re going through the audition process for some indie thriller starting up production he’s quick to piece together enough information to get himself in the door of an audition without Shiu knowing. You’re new enough that you’ve never had anyone else as your love interest and something cocky and maybe a tad bit possessive in him wants to keep it that way. He likes how the two of you look together, so why ruin a good thing by letting someone else work with you when you already work so well together? And you just have to look so happy to see him when the final cast is announced. 

Here you come, all smiles and newly dyed hair, asking why he didn’t tell you he was trying for a part, too, and he just shrugs to keep from telling a lie. Because the truth is he wasn’t supposed to be trying for a role but like clockwork a villain was needed and he showed up to fill the spot. And it works out in his favor because he’s not here to play some one note guy with a gun. Instead he’s playing a psychopath or sociopath–he’s still not a hundred percent on the difference but you explained that there definitely is a difference–and it just so happens that his character is obsessed with you. Shiu made a snide comment about “a little on the nose, isn’t it,” when the first script came through but Toji elected to ignore him. It’s not some well-guarded secret that he likes working with you so who cares if it seems a bit much that he’s somehow always one step behind you. 

Apparently, the fans care. They care a lot. He’s still trying to wrap his head around people caring so much about what he’s doing. When Shiu gets to throwing around media jargon he usually tunes him out but he hears enough about it from you that he’s starting to recognize certain terms. Fans, stans–two different things, maybe–fansites, and saesaengs–at least that’s what Shiu calls them, and they’re bad fans. Toji would rather call them what they are, which is crazed stalkers, but in the industry there needs to be a code word for everything. He’s caught you scrolling through your own tags on social media more than once, “just to see what they’re saying,” you insist, and then sulk when Toji takes your phone because you don’t need to have an unfiltered experience about how people view you online. It’s a dangerous place for someone so sensitive. You don’t have the same aloofness that he has to how people perceive him and he doesn’t need you getting your feelings hurt. 

Supposed fans like to pick at every little thing people in the spotlight do. An hour on whatever app you’re scrolling that day would pick you apart like buzzards over roadkill and leave you nursing your hurt feelings for days to come. New insecurities you haven’t even considered having would crop up because one person made a comment on your nose. Never mind the fact that it looks perfect just the way it is. At least to Toji. But you’re always quick to remind him that he has something nice to say no matter how you look, which isn’t wrong but he’s never lied or over embellished his thoughts. You are beautiful. It’s not his fault for pointing out the obvious. And his blatant, albeit silent, admiration works towards your newest project together. He hears the crew whispering between takes about how unnerving he is on camera, and how it doesn’t entirely seem like an act when he’s looking at you. 

It isn’t. Although Toji isn’t quite unhinged enough to stalk you or slaughter anyone that gets too close. He doesn’t need to anyway. You offer yourself up so sweetly like you can’t tell how frustratingly tempting you are. He tries to behave. For your benefit. He doesn’t care about Shiu’s constant reminders for “discretion.” And if your agent has anything to say to you about it, you’ve yet to mention it. And you never turn down his offers to go out after work. 

Someone asks for your autograph when you enter the restaurant together, begging for a picture with the two of you before a starry-eyed hostess ushers you to a private table. That picture will cost him another afternoon of Shiu yapping in his ear about tarnishing his reputation but that’s a problem for later because Toji is still thinking about how you rested your hand on his chest and leaned against his shoulder for the photo. There’s probably nothing to it. Intimacy like that comes like muscle memory after so many photoshoots for movie stills and promotional images. There’s a poster somewhere of the two of you posed in just the same position but that had been directed by a photographer. This you did on your own. Toji tries not to dwell on it as you flip through the menu. He knows from experience that you’ll stare blankly at the words printed on the paper, flipping through each page like you’re reading it, just to look up with that deer in headlights face that you get anytime a waiter asks for your order. You can deal with a swarm of paparazzi with a breezy smile but the moment someone asks you what you want to eat you freeze up. 

“I don’t know what to get,” you hum, still looking over all the options. Toji knows what you want. It’s an Italian restaurant and he knows you like pasta. He picks your order before his own, setting the menu aside to watch you pretend to make a choice. It’s cute, because he knows you’re genuinely trying to pick but without fail you start to blank as soon as the waitress saunters over to the table looking far more primped than the others he’s seen milling around. There’s gloss on her lips and her hair is pulled back so neatly it looks freshly done. It almost looks like she’s just clocked in except her cheeks are flushed bright and there’s a slight tremble to her hands. The hostess must’ve spread the word that celebrities were dining at table 17. She smiles real big, eyes fixed on Toji as you frantically flip through your menu, trying to decide on something. He reaches over to take it from you, giving the overeager waitress both your orders before sending her on her way. 

“Thanks,” you smile. Of course, he wants to say, I got you, baby. Instead he keeps his mouth shut, nodding in acknowledgment as he waits for you to start up a new conversation. You’re on about something to do with production, how you’re still not used to being important enough to have your own assistant on set, when the waitress returns with your drinks. Her hand linger on Toji’s glass, condensation dripping over her fingers as if she’s waiting for him to reach for the cup and brush his fingers over hers. It’s like something straight out of a romance movie and he might’ve found the humor in the attempt if it weren’t so annoying. Instead of reaching for his drink he sits back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as he glowers at the girl. 

She interrupted your story about you assistant messing up your breakfast order yesterday, but you don’t seem bothered as you stick your straw in your drink, humming happily after the first sip. He ordered you one of those Shirley Temples that you always get, candied cherries floating in the soda and grenadine. After a beat longer of Toji’s unflinching glare, the waitress finally retreats with a quiet chirp about your food being out soon. You thank her and Toji wants to tell you not to waste your breath, but that would probably only confuse you. For as intuitive as you can be, you still haven’t grasped the fact that Toji would kill to be your man. It would almost be endearing how oblivious you are if it wasn’t grating on his last nerve. Here you are thanking a girl for flirting with him like it didn’t take every shred of his patience to not tell her to fuck off and leave him alone. 

“So, anyway,” you continue, twirling the straw wrapper between your fingers, “he’s so used to assisting Kyoko”–some other actress Toji’s heard of in passing–“that he never actually asked for my order and just came back with her usual. Apparently she likes tomatoes in her eggs but I had to pick them out. And my omelet still ended up tasting like tomatoes. It was so bad I couldn’t finish it.” You screw your face up like just recalling the story has brought the taste back to your tongue. Toji already knows about your aversion to tomatoes. He always reminds the wait staff to remove it from your order whenever you’re out together. All it took was one time watching you peel a tomato off your burger for him to commit the little quirk to memory. 

“You should get a new one,” he tells you. He’s had his fair share of assistants but they’re a rotating roster of equally intimidated people flinching every time he calls their name like he’s going to tell them to go play in traffic. Usually he just wants a drink or something from the restaurant up the street but something about Toji is just so suffocating that most assistants barely last through filming. There are very few people that can tolerate his terse personality but he’s glad you’re one of them. So pretty and so sweet like you don’t realize that everyone on the production staff avoids him unless it’s absolutely necessary to speak with him. It’s half reputation and half unmitigated judgment. Toji would like to think he’s not all bad. He can be cordial in a distant way when not provoked but so many people seem to have an expert ability to pluck at his nerves. 

“Nah, it’s fine.” You’re laughing like it isn’t a big deal that you weren’t able to eat because some inattentive staff member didn’t do their job correctly. “I told him what happened and he apologized, even asked if he should go and get me my actual order, but by then it was about time for filming to start.” You wave your hand dismissively. “It wasn’t anything serious.” Except it was because you’d had to go hungry because of someone’s incompetence. There’s a reason Toji is always taking you out. Most actresses have a habit of skimping on meals to look as trim as possible and he’s not about to let you starve because that’s what the media thinks looks best. He likes you just the way you are and, as far as Toji is concerned, his opinion is the only one that should matter. Not even your own as your food arrives and you whine about not being able to finish it all. 

“I’ve seen you eat more than that.” It comes out just a hair too harsh and he can see it settle over you as if he meant it as an insult. “It’s just pasta,” he says before you can get too in your head about it. “It looks like more than it is.” You grumble something under your breath, likely something snarky about how he doesn’t have to worry about portion control because you’re always saying how his stomach is a black hole. His physique is a testament to how far the human body can be pushed thanks to his tumultuous upbringing. A chasm of memories that don’t quite fit together, punched with holes like a moth-eaten shirt. Something about trauma and dissociation Shiu had said after a night of drunken oversharing. 

It sounded like he was reading off the first link he found in the search results while he was looking up why Toji was such an abrasive asshole all the time. Realistically, Toji knows he has things to work on just like he knows he doesn’t care enough to put in the effort. It is what it is and as far as he’s concerned the future is far more interesting than the brick wall his brain has built between the present and the past. The future has you and there’s not much he can think of that’s better than that. Not when you’re sitting across from him yapping about whatever pops into your head and happily eating the food he knew you’d like. 

“I mentioned in an interview once that I really liked this one author, and they’re releasing a new book soon. Apparently they sent me a signed advanced copy! There was a little handwritten note and everything!” It’s cute how you’re famous and still getting excited about another public figure acknowledging your existence. There’s something so genuine and humble in your happiness that seems to be missing from most of the big names he’s worked alongside. Toji isn’t always the easiest to work with considering how short his fuse is but he’s not one to take it out on people. He’s more hard stares and gruff one-liners while he’s seen other actors shout at the staff like they’re children needing to be scolded. So far, the egotistical people he’s worked with have enough sense not to snap at Toji directly. The only person that’s ever mouthed off to him is you, and it’s always within reason. He is a dick sometimes and you’re just so preoccupied with pleasing everyone that you’ll bite at him for being a bit too short with a co-star or snapping at a member of the wardrobe staff for taking too long for his liking. You make everything more pleasant for everyone involved. A little ray of sunshine in Toji’s otherwise dreary life. 

He was right about the food. You finish your pasta and two of your cherry drinks before Toji pays the tab, ignoring the waitress’ number written at the bottom of the receipt. He hardly notices the blue scribbles, but you do. It seems to flip a switch in your brain as you stare at it before Toji crumples it and shoves it into his pocket. You’re quiet as you leave the restaurant, going a few paces before you finally find your voice. 

“Are you gonna call her?” Your tone isn’t as playful as it usually is when you tease him about all the attention he draws. He’s gotten free drinks at bars and comped meals at restaurants because some waitress or bartender thought he was handsome. Toji has grown used to women giggling behind their hands as he passes and men peeking at him from the corner of their eye like he won’t notice. There’s a certain allure to his surliness that no one but you seems to be immune to. You and maybe Shiu. Usually the most you’ll give him is a laugh and a sarcastic quip about how he’s a public liability for all the attention he commands. Usually a joke about him stopping traffic. But you seem a bit more serious today, a bit more bothered than usual. For a second, Toji considers that he might be hearing things where you didn’t mean them. But then he catches the slight pout of your lips tinged red from your drink and he knows something’s up. 

“The waitress,” you say when he takes too long to answer, “she gave you her number, right?” It takes Toji a moment to realize this is the first time anyone has been so forward with their flirtations in front of you. Of course there were always the compliments and thinly veiled innuendos, but it never goes too far considering most people just assume the two of you are together like that. This waitress had taken a chance slipping him her number, but it’s not like Toji wants it. He hands you the rumpled receipt without a second thought. There at the bottom, in that same sparkly blue pen she used to take your order, is her name and number. 

“Kanna.” You say, eyes narrowing as you stare at the digits of her phone number. Toji decides to test the waters because there was certainly a hint of disdain in your voice as you read her name. You mumble something about her handwriting being messy and Toji can’t help but laugh. 

“Jealous, baby?” Sunlight dances over your lashes as your eyes snap to his face. He watches you try to hide your expression, your pout disappearing as you hand him back the receipt. He shoves it back in his pocket without a second glance because he knows you’d say something about littering if he dropped it on the ground just to prove a point.

“No.” You say it too quickly for it to be true. 

“Liar.” Toji laughs because you’re so clearly bothered. Usually someone making a pass at him wouldn’t get you so flustered but there’s something different about you today. You’re more openly affectionate. There’s still those moments of hesitation but you’ve been more free with grabbing his hand as you walk and leaning against him when you’re idle. That girl couldn’t have rattled you. She was hardly anything to look at, less so when Toji is constantly surrounded by a plethora of perfectly curated women that fit rigidly into the popular look of the moment. Trendsetting hairstyles and the latest designer clothes. You’re more subdued, less artificial in your style choices, yet he still finds you leagues more beautiful than anyone he’s ever seen before. Certainly more so than that random waitress and her glitter pen. 

Toji has to hold back a smile as you walk ahead of him. Taking three steps for every one of his and still only managing to stay a half step in front of him. He can tell you’re trying to distance yourself, arms crossed and lips pouted as you rush forward. Toji let’s you. It’s not like you’re far ahead and, lucky for him, you’re headed to the same place. The hotel is a few blocks away and Toji takes the time to enjoy the way the sun moves over your hair, golden light settling like a halo around your head. It’s only when you reach the towering silhouette of the hotel that the sun is eclipse and you go dull. Without the shower of gilded light you look more dejected than annoyed. A kicked puppy rather than an angry dog. You make it as far as the elevator before Toji decides he’s had enough of the running. His grip on your arm is as gentle as he can manage while keeping you from slipping away from him. His free hand finds your hip as the floors rush past. Your shuffling lifts your shirt ever so slightly and Toji finds his thumb brushing over the exposed skin above your waistband before he can contemplate the consequences.

Toji touches you all the time. As his on screen love interest, he’s inclined to be physically affectionate when the cameras are rolling. But even off screen he can’t help the way his true desires bleed into his actions. The media eats it up every time a picture of the two of you surfaces, the rumor mills running overtime to concoct a front page story for one tabloid or another. But that’s always been part of the show. The same way you leaned into him when that fan asked for a picture is the way he holds your waist on the red carpet. This is different. There are no cameras. No one to impress or enthrall. This is simply Toji wanting to touch you, and you letting him. The feeling of his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your shirt have gotten you to go still, leaning back into his chest as he watches your reflection in the polished metal of the elevator doors. 

“Let go.” It’s only the two of you in the elevator and yet your voice is no louder than a whisper. Toji scoffs, hands loosening little by little. 

“You want me to?” 

“No.” Your voice is even smaller than before. The quietest admission like you’re unsure of it yourself. Still, Toji lets go and watches you stumble because you were leaning so heavily against him. 

Immediately he can feel the absence of your warmth against his chest, but he’ll let you come back to him. He’s made his intentions clear. From here, the choice is yours. When the doors ding open, you nearly sprint down the hall and Toji assumes you’ve made your choice. He can live with it. He doesn’t blame you for it. The moments you’ve shared together always felt a bit too good to be true, just as perfect as when the cameras are rolling. But you stop in the middle of the hallway. Your room is further down but you don’t move to go any further, as if something has rooted you to that place. Toji sets a leisurely pace in his approach. 

There’s the expectation that you’ll go running off again the moment he gets too close like a rabbit evading a wolf, but you surprise him with your stillness. Even as he recaptures your waist, hands more purposefully dipping under your shirt as he pulls you into his chest. This isn’t the place for it. A picture like this would be a PR nightmare and he’d never hear the end of it from Shiu. But Toji can’t bring himself to worry about that right now. Instead he asks which room you want to go to. His is closer but he doesn’t doubt you’d be more comfortable in your own. You lead the way, swiping your card to unlock the door before pulling him inside. 

After a month of filming, you’ve turned this temporary situation into your own. It smells like you more than any industrial strength cleaner that the housekeepers use. He recognizes the smell of your shampoo and that scented lotion that you love so much. The bed is freshly made and that damn duck that a fan gifted you months ago is propped up against the pillows next to the remote. A bit of tension leaks from your shoulders as you laugh and explain that the housekeepers have been doing this for weeks, setting a cute little scene for you to return to after they’ve straightened up the room. You set the remote and duck on the nightstand as you sit at the edge of the bed, perched as if you don’t want to crease the freshly steamed linens. You look nervous and it stops Toji from wandering further than the little entryway. He’s flanked by a closet and a mirror just like in his room but he can’t take his eyes off you. Your hands are tucked between your thighs and he tries not to focus on the way you’re shifting and squirming, squeezing your legs together. 

He can almost see the heat flooding through your body and he’s more than capable of flushing it out if you’ll just ask him to. He feels like a leashed dog waiting for the command to pounce. He reaches up to brace his arms against the dropped ceiling annexing the entryway from the rest of the room. For all your silence, your body is speaking for itself. Toji’s eyes don’t miss the way your throat bobs as you swallow, eyes focused on the way his arms flex above his head. 

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Toji says even though he really wants to. He knows you’d listen, too. But this isn’t something he can script and direct. You have to decide for yourself, give him the words he’s looking to hear. “You gotta tell me what you want, baby.” He sees the little pet name land, watches how you dip your chin and look up at him through your lashes. Embarrassed and he hasn’t even done anything yet. 

“Don’t make me,” you mumble. It’s so starkly different from the sultry confidence he sees on set, a true testament to your skills as you struggle to find the words to say you want him. Because he knows you do. It’s clear in the way you keep stealing glances at him even as you point your face away, hiding like he can’t see the way your teeth nip nervously at your lip. 

“I won’t.” He agrees. “Won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, so you gotta tell me. What do you want, baby?” 

Toji wants to think he’d be able to turn tail and head back to his own room if you denied him, take a cold shower and forget this ever happened, but he knows it’s a lie. He’s already so swept up in your orbit that denial would feel like a punch to the gut. He’s taken worse, but not from you. It would be like sucking the air from his lungs. It’s gotten so bad that he can’t imagine a day without you. Work was only a pretense. He got to see you everyday because you were contractually obligated. Now you’re far past coworkers hanging around each other because it’s what the job demands. He likes to think you see him as a friend, maybe something more. He could live with just being a friend as long as it means he gets to spend time in your bed. He’s got so few people that he talks to on a day to day basis that Toji imagines it wouldn’t really make a difference what you called him as long as you do call him. 

Finally, you don’t say his name, or anything really, but you extend a hand towards him and he rushes forward like a tsunami swallowing the shoreline. He kneels and tries not to think of how stupid he must look prostrating himself at your feet. You don’t seem to think any less of him for his poorly concealed eagerness. It's a desire grown over years of working alongside you. A sort of desperation that will knock the breath out of your lungs as soon as you give him the go ahead. Because Toji has had women. Countless, faceless. He’s slept with enough people to know this feels different. He wonders if this is what it's like for desire to feel real. Because why else would he be so hung up on you after so long. He’s not a man after a chase. He won’t run after anyone. Unless it’s you. He’s been running so fucking hard that he’s nearly out of breath and here he is so close to the finish line in a marathon he hadn’t realized he was running. And you’re the prize brushing his hair back and touching the scar at the corner of his mouth like he’s something to be gentle with. 

“You scare me.” He hears you say it through waves of blood rushing in his ears. He’s familiar with fear but never from you. From day one you’d been strangely calm around him. Like a deer sitting beside a mountain lion without a care in the world. Toji knows he’s something to be afraid of. He’s lived his life. He knows exactly how dangerous he is, how terrifying he must seem. It was stupid to think you were above that fear just because you smiled at him. 

“I’m scared you’re gonna hurt me.” You say softly. But you’re still touching him. Humans tame predators, he reminds himself. A wolf can be turned into a dog with the proper treatment. He thinks again of how he’s kneeling at your feet. He’s been tamed–whipped as Shiu called it–by you. 

“M’not gonna hurt you.” He tries to work the gravel from his voice, to sound less brooding as he reassures you. It doesn’t work. He’s set in stone. Too old to learn a new trick. If you’ll have him, Toji will be whatever you need, but you gotta take him as he is. Because it’s all he has to give. 

“Promise?” Your tone is so soft he half expects you to stick out your pinky or make him cross his heart. 

“I promise.”

“I’m serious, Toji. I don’t want to be just another girl to you. If we do this, we’re doing this. You can’t use me and leave me. I won’t let you.” He hears the unspoken words. I won’t let you hurt me. So that’s what you meant. Of course you aren’t afraid of him. You’re scared in the way everyone seemed to be of each other. Scared to commit, scared to be vulnerable. Toji loathes to think he feels the same. Rejection would hurt if it came from you. But it hasn’t. You’re still playing with his hair and Toji hears a damning thought surface in his head; I could marry this girl. He shoves it down before it can fully form. It’s too soon, too optimistic. He knows who he is as much as he tries to be better when he’s with you. Toji could hurt you. Get scared and break your heart. He knows if he did he’d never see you again. 

No more stupid videos getting sent to him at 5AM because you’re in the makeup chair at the crack of dawn. No more ordering your food because you can’t ever get the words out yourself. No more shoving you to the inside of the sidewalk because you like balancing along the curb as you walk. He could live without seeing you on set ever again. That had only been a symptom. The root of it was simply you. In any way he could have you. 

It’s pathetic but he’s addicted in a way he never thought possible. Never let himself think it was possible. Not for a guy like him. Movies gave him an outlet for his more violent tendencies. He would’ve done just as well as a boxer or something else where he could get paid to rough people up in a way that was above board. He’d done it the illegal way for years. Got away with it too. You have every right to be scared of him. Every right to leave him. But in this moment you’re here and he’s selfish. He leans up to kiss you. 

It doesn’t feel new. There’s no picturesque fireworks clouding his head. It isn’t new. He’s kissed you a hundred times over by now. It doesn’t feel new, but it feels right. Especially without the motivation of a camera. He isn’t kissing a character, he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. 

“Stop thinking so hard.” Because Toji can tell by the way your hands flutter over his shoulders with nervous uncertainty that you’re not all here. You’re thinking about this like someone is going to snap at you for messing up an angle or pressing too close and smearing your makeup. He hears you mumble a feeble apology. 

“None of that. We’re doing this, baby. You and me. Don’t think about anything else.” That gets you to loosen up enough for Toji to work you out of your clothes. He’s never had the pleasure. There’s never been a reason for his hands to be pressing underneath your shirt and it feels like his hands are melting into your skin as they push towards your chest, taking your shirt with them. You’re warm and pliant, softening like butter under his touch. Toji gets you out of your shirt with a bit too much eagerness, ruffling your hair as you squeak at his desperation. He can’t even find it in him to care if he looks overeager now because he is. 

He’s been after you for years and he’s not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Beneath your clothes is an endless expanse of skin hidden only by the covering of your underwear. Plain cotton, nothing special, but it has him throbbing in his pants because it’s you. And you have the audacity to mumble about “didn’t know we were doing this, would’ve worn something nicer,” like Toji isn’t practically drooling at the way your pretty blue panties sit on your hips. He thumbs at the elastic, pulling it back just to hear it snap against your skin. It’s like unwrapping a gift and he’s looking to savor it. 

“They’re gonna know,” he says as he kisses along the shape of your breasts peeking out the top of your bra. He could put a mark there. Bite down on the soft skin and leave a print of his teeth in your skin, put a bruise there with his greedy mouth as he licks at the line where skin meets fabric, hiding the rest of you away in the cups of your bra. He could mark you up and they’d know. Everyone would know exactly who did it because Toji isn’t ashamed to admit he’s been after you like a dog, barking at anyone that got even remotely too close for comfort. A co-star could simply be complimenting the outfit wardrobe had chosen for a particular scene and he’d be looming behind them with murder in his eyes. Of course you look gorgeous but only he should get to look that hard at you. 

“Don’t!” You squeak when he noses over your skin, looking for a place to sink his teeth. “Don’t leave any marks!” He almost wants to ignore you and latch his mouth on to you anyway, but Toji resists the urge. You’ve asked him to behave and he wants to be a gentleman for you. Or, at least, the closest a man like him can get to it. He can still tease you about it, though. 

“No?” He mocks you. “You don’t want me to leave any marks? What, you got someone else that gets to see you like this, baby?” You squirm at his patronizing tone, a pout working its way onto your lips. He nips at your bottom lip before smoothing the expression with a kiss. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you whine. “Makeup and–” He kisses you again, slipping his tongue between your parted lips, because of course he knows. Makeup would make a fuss if he left marks on your neck, wardrobe would pitch a fit if they found hickeys in a place their designated outfits couldn’t cover. You’d be in the makeup chair even longer as they painted over all the places he’d marked you up. 

“You taste like cherries.” He mumbles against your mouth. The taste has him fumbling for his pants like a fucking virgin because it’s so innate to you. Those little fruity drinks you love so much have him pressing painfully against his zipper. Toji has you leaned up against the pillows as he sits back on his knees to pull his shirt off. He doesn’t miss the way your thighs twitch, pressing tighter together at the sight of him looming over you bare-chested. He doesn’t toss his shirt far because he wants to see you wearing it later. Right now you smell like you. Your lotion, your shampoo. He can’t wait to tired you out and wrap you up in his clothes until you smell like him. 

He wants to mark you up in other ways if he can’t do it with his lips. So everyone knows exactly who you belong to. The idea that you had to make him swear to not let this be a one off kind of thing is utterly laughable when Toji hasn’t wanted to stray away from you since nearly the first time you met. Nothing anyone else has to offer could be better than what you can give him. Although he’s happy that the little waitress tried. You wouldn’t have been so worked up if she hadn’t. He’s been teetering on the edge of insanity being so close to you everyday and it’s nice that he’s finally caught a glimpse of what you’re like when you get so wrapped up in your mind that you start acting out of character. Because Toji hasn’t felt this crazy over anyone and he’s glad he’s not suffering this lovestruck psychosis alone. It’s dumb and childish but he’s got so little in his life that’s sweet and pure that he isn’t about to poison this with toxic hang ups about maintaining his persona.

“Did it make you mad, baby?” He asks as he bullies his way between your legs. You move with him, thighs parting to give him space even as you shrink back into the pillows, brows pinched as you watch him settle his cheek against your thigh. “Did that girl at the restaurant upset you?” He wants to hear you admit it. He smirks at the way you screw up your face, nose scrunching in distaste at the mention of another woman. 

“Don’t say things like that when we’re like this,” you grumble, jerking the leg he’s resting on. He bites at you in retaliation and because he wants to hear you squeak about leaving marks again. 

“You are mad.” He smirks and watches the way your cheeks puff indignantly as you pout at him. He wants to kiss that petulant little expression off your face but Toji can’t bring himself to move even an inch away from where he’s resting. With his face cushioned by the pillowy warmth of your thighs he can see the mess spreading between your legs. A dark spot is forming in your panties, getting bigger with every shift of your hips. Toji slips a finger under the elastic and can practically hear the sound of the fabric sticking to your skin. It makes his mind go blank and all he can think about is getting closer. He blinks and suddenly his face is buried at the apex of your thighs, panting like a dog as he noses against the soiled fabric, tongue chasing the taste of you seeping through the cotton. 

“Wait!” You squeak, and he tries to. He pulls back but only far enough to look up at you. His nose stays nuzzled against the seam of your cunt, brushing against where your clit is throbbing through the fabric. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks even though he can think of a few things as his finger drags through the space between your panties and pussy, making a slick noise that has him grinding against the mattress. So fucking wet. 

“Nothing…” Toji recognizes the face you make in an instant. He’s seen it a hundred times over by now. It always reminds him of a puzzle the way you fix your expression whenever a camera is rolling. It’s always your mouth first. Smile dropped, pout gone, lips pressed into a neutral line. He sees every piece of your face fall into place until it’s perfectly blank. He watches you awhile longer until your composure breaks again and your brows dip into something resembling anxiety. 

“Nervous, baby?” He doesn’t need you to answer but you do anyway, nodding slowly. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. Just lemme take care of you, okay?” You nod again and Toji rewards the loosening of your muscles with a gentle kiss to your stomach. “Behave.” He says and watches the way you tense up again. It’s less nerves, more anticipation as you watch him slink back between your legs. He decides to spare your underwear, pulling them down nice and proper instead of tearing them off of you like he’s so desperate to do. It takes a few seconds longer and gives you a chance to knock your knees together as he sits up to pull the bundle of fabric off your ankles. 

“What did I say?” He asks, loving the way the timbre of his voice seems to send a shiver through your prone body. “Behave.” You don’t resist as he spreads your legs again but you start to squirm the longer he stares. Toji has spent many a night in the privacy of his hotel room fisting his dick to whatever image of you his mind could conjure but nothing could come close to the real thing. 

“S’pretty, baby.” He mumbles, tongue tripping over the words. He’s just lost any semblance of cognitive function. All he can see is you, spread out and dripping on the sheets, and he can’t wait another second to get his mouth on you. 

I’m gonna marry this girl, he can’t help the thought as your lashes flutter and lips part the moment he gets his mouth on your pussy. You’re still nervous, twitching and squirming like you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. Toji decides for you, arms hooking under your legs to hold you still. That still leaves your hands to flutter anxiously, skating over where his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs and brushing across his hair like you’re afraid to touch him. It makes him groan in annoyance, the sound humming against your clit. It makes you go limp, hands falling still. One rests against his head and the other over his hand. Toji loosens his grip on your leg just enough to thread his fingers through yours, pointedly ignoring how intimate the small touch feels even though he has his tongue buried in your pussy. He’s being greedy, tonguing at your hole and nosing against your clit as your cunt makes a mess of his face, but the moment is softened by the way your fingers squeeze around his. 

He feels your nails against his scalp. Not quite gripping, more so petting and it feels like something akin to a reward as he makes a mess between your legs. You don’t tense up again and Toji realizes the idle movement of your hands is grounding you even as your thighs shake around his head. He can barely breathe but he can’t even fathom pulling away when you’re making such pretty noises and trying to grind your hips against his face. You’re slurring something between those soft sighs that sounds an awful lot like “thank you,” and Toji wrenches his mouth away from you because he’s one more head scratch away from cumming in his pants like some virgin. He doesn’t even bother to get his underwear down all the way. He just shoves the waistband low enough to get his dick out and nearly collapses on top of you the second he feels your cunt against his skin. 

Toji braces an arm beside your head, leaning close enough to feel your breath ghosting across his skin. He kisses you to get you to close your eyes, but he keeps his half lidded as he watches you squirm as you taste yourself on his tongue. The mess you’ve left on his face transfers to yours as he rubs his face against your cheek like a needy puppy. It would be more embarrassing if you weren’t acting just as clinging. He can feel the needling sensation of your nails digging into his shoulder. It sends shivers down his spine, lingering just right on the cusp of pain and pleasure. Toji tries to kiss you again but it ends up being more of a heady clashing of teeth and tongue as he presses his parted lips against yours. Still tastes like cherries, he thinks, enjoying the mix between sweet and savory as the taste of your arousal still sticks to his tongue. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groans as you press a wet kiss to the corner of his mouth, right where his scar is. And because you’re so frustratingly sweet you blink up at him, slow and wide like the little doe eyed beauty that you are, and ask, “Like what?”

“Like that,” Toji groans as you raise your brows and tilt your head, lips pulling into another one of your signature pouts. “Fuck, turn over.” He hooks an arm under your back and flips you fast enough to leave you gasping. Your hand flutters to find him again where it’s settled against your heaving stomach. He can feel your pulse flutter as you catch your breath, body shivering with something softer than anxiety. Anticipation weaves its way through your body. Toji can tell in the way you tense and relax at each minute movement he makes. He decides to tease you as he fists the base of his cock, squeezing hard to keep from cumming on the smooth expanse of your back. His hand moves from your stomach to leave you teetering on quivering arms as he trails his finger up your spine. You bend to match his touch, arching as his fingertip traces over the contours of your back. Goosebumps raises where he touches and you shiver, head falling between your shoulders. 

Toji takes advantage of the vulnerable position. Your hair is usually down during filming and there’s little reason for that to change in the coming days so he feels little guilt about the way his teeth scrape against the nape of your neck. It makes your arms give out and Toji’s teeth tighten on the soft skin as your new position presses you back against his hips. He hadn’t meant to leave a mark but there’s likely to be one now. He pulls away, lapping apologetically at the faint indent of his teeth before grabbing your hips to keep you flush against him. If you move again he’s going to ruin the sheets instead of you, but you’re still squirming like you want him to embarrass himself by coming too soon. It becomes plainly clear that your intention is to kill him as you toss your hair over your shoulder and look up at him through your lashes, mumbling a soft “are you gonna fuck me now?” 

The answer is a resounding yes and Toji can’t bring himself to think of anything else as he guides his dick inside you. This time he does collapse, falling forward before he can catch himself. It pushes him inside in one go and you let out a long whine, grinding against him as Toji rests his forehead against the back of your neck. You’re starting to sweat now with all that wiggling you’ve been doing and he licks along the column of your neck to distract from the way your pussy is choking his dick. He can hear you whining, feel it too with the way his chest is flush against your back. A soft litany of “please,” and “move,” with his name punctuating each little gasp. He can feel you trying to grind against him, held still partially by the weight of his body. He’s got you almost completely pinned and decided to finish the job. You squeak as he presses his knee against yours, spreading your legs until you collapse onto your stomach. 

“Stay there,” he says like you have any hope of moving without him peeling his heavy body off of you. He has no intentions of doing anything remotely close to that as he shoves a pillow under your hips and his arm under your jaw. 

“Comfy?” He asks. He can feel the way your cheeks are squished in the crook of his arm as you try to nod and go back to begging. He nips at the shell of your ear, soothing the sting with his tongue, as he pulls his hips back. You’re close. He can feel it in the way your pussy is desperate to keep him inside, squeezing tight every time he pulls away. It’s got him on the edge, filling the hotel room with the heavy sound of skin against skin. He’s glad the bed is so sturdy. 

There’s no squeaking or knocking headboard as he drives you up the mattress with his desperate rutting. He gets a hand between you and the sheets to pinch at your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers. It makes you keen and that’s the only thing Toji can’t be bothered to keep quiet. He wants to hear every little sound you make after giving him so much lip about the waitress. You had so much to say earlier and he’s only too happy to hear you out. Neighbors be damned. It’s likely the floor is mostly if not completely vacant given that two celebrities are boarding here but Toji can’t help but want you to be loud in case there’s anyone to hear. This all feels a bit too much like a dream and he’d relish a noise complaint just to make it all seem real. 

“You feel so good, baby.” Toji grunts in your ear. “So good for me.” Something like a giggle works its way out of your mouth and Toji almost tells you to shut up because the sound goes straight to his dick. His hand leaves your breasts to find that spot between your legs. Your breathing stutters as his calloused fingers find your clit. It’s like lighting a fuse. You start up your squirming again, nails scratching at his arm tucked under your chin like you’re trying to get away. It takes Toji a second to realize that you are. Curling up on yourself, trying to run from the feeling of his body on yours. You’re not saying anything, but you are drooling. He can feel it slicking down his forearm as he loosens his hold just enough to make sure you’re not suffocating under his strength. He can hear those stuttering little breaths and soft mewls that are soon accompanied by a hand pushing blindy at his wrist. 

“Fuck no,” Toji grumbles. His hand leaves your clit just long enough to roll you onto your back. He hears a little sigh of relief as you relax into the sheets for a moment. There are tears sparkling in your eyes and wetting your lashes. Your whole face is shining with sweat and spit and it makes Toji a little prideful to see you so thoroughly ruined because of him. 

“You gonna be good for me, baby? Gonna behave?” He asks once you catch your breath. Before you can answer he’s already gathering your wrists in one hand to press them into the pillows above your head while his other hand slaps his dick against your messy cunt. He grinds the head of his cock against your clit, precum staining your skin as he teases you, asking if it feels good. He huffs out a laugh when you nod. It’s so earnest, so desperate. 

“Yeah it does. You don’t have to run from it, baby. Lemme make you feel good. Want you to feel good for me.” He pants, leaning down until you’re nose to nose as he presses back inside you. The sound you make is lost in the press of your lips as Toji lavishes you with more sloppy kisses. He can feel himself teetering on the edge, balls tightening with each little whine that leaves your lips. His hand finds its way back between your legs and he has your back arching within seconds. He can feel you trying to pull away again, arms tugging at where he has you pinned even as your greedy legs lock around his waist. He can feel your muscles trembling as he draws tight circles on your clit, whole body pulling taut as you get closer to the edge. 

The only words leaving your mouth are his name and soft gasps of “please, please, please,” like Toji is in any position to deny you what you want. He lets go of your wrists if only because he knows you won’t try to run from him now. Instead your arms wrap around him, pulling with enough strength to catch him off guard. Toji nearly collapses on top of you as you pull him into a surprisingly chaste kiss. A shudder runs down his back as your nails drag against his scalp and it’s all just a bit too much. Your pussy milking him like you’re trying to get pregnant–belatedly, he realizes he should’ve worn a condom–and your lips in his ear telling him to let go.

“Wanna feel it. Want it inside,” you whine. It’s so damningly sweet that Toji can’t find it in himself to even attempt to deny you. The thought of pulling out had briefly crossed his mind but your thighs are still locked around his waist and he isn’t above doing something stupid to satisfy himself. The consequences can be dealt with later. He lasted longer than he expected but there’s no mistaking how pent up Toji has been as he cums inside you. He fills you up and then some, feeling it leaking out. The tension bleeds from his body as he curls over you, grip loosening on your wrists enough that you wriggling free to wrap your arms around his shoulders. There’s the prickling heat of your nails scratching at him as you wrap yourself tight around him like you never want him to leave. Toji returns the favor. You shiver, a happy little sigh leaving your lips as he wraps his arms around you. 

“Clingy,” he says quietly, still loud enough for you to hear and he feels the way your arms tense then loosen, trying to pull away like you missed the humor in his voice. “Stop it.” He mutters, sitting back up to pull you into his lap. 

Usually Toji isn’t one to stick around after he’s gotten what he wants out of an encounter but the usual instinct to peel his partner off of him as soon as possible is absent with you. He revels in the way your head rests against his chest, soft breathes ghosting across his skin. Toji’s hands find your waist, fingers sinking into the softness of your skin as he lifts you just enough to pull out. There’s a puddle forming on the sheets from the way he’s leaking out of you and he entertains the thought of plugging his fingers inside you for half a second before remembering how stupid that would be after he already came inside you with no protection. You don’t seem too worried about it and Toji supposes that’s all that matters. He watches the way the mood settles into something less frenzied, more coherent, but the anger never comes. He’s expecting you to snap at him for being so careless but all he gets is a soft smile and even softer kisses. The taste of cherries still lingers. 

“We should do something about that,” he says, eyes still trained on the space between your bodies. Stained white and sticky from how hard he was fucking you. It streaks up your thighs and shines bright on his pelvis, staining the freshly changed sheets. You blink slow, like a kitten, before finally acknowledging the mess between your legs. 

“Should be fine, I’m on the pill. I’ll stop by the store later if you’re worried.” He’s not. Part of him wishes you hadn’t mentioned birth control. He’s selfish when it comes to you and even though it would be the worst outcome, Toji finds himself wondering what it would’ve been like if he did get you pregnant. Then he remembers your careers and lets the thought slip away into the recesses of his mind. It’s a desire for a later date because you’ve already said this isn’t gonna be a one and done kind of thing. There’s time for things to get more serious, to have a proper discussion instead of letting it happen on a whim. He clings to the idea of a future with you because that’s really all he has. As soon as he set eyes on you, you began to infiltrate his every thought like a weed invading his mind. But you’re not a weed, far too pretty for that. And even if you were, he likes the way you cloud his mind. Gives him something sweet to think about when there’s always been such a lack of nice things in his life. He kisses your neck, tasting sweat and perfume. After a while he gathers you up and makes you decent enough to make the trip to his room. 

“I owe Shiu money.” He groans halfway through his shower. You’re sitting just outside the tiny cubicle, perched on the toilet. Freshly washed and wearing his shirt just like he wanted. 

“You made a bet about me with your manager?” He hears the uncertainty in your voice even over the spray of water and realizes how the admission must sound. He shuts off the water and steps out into a cloud of steam to see you looking crestfallen. There’s a hesitance on your face that makes his stomach churn. Anxiety isn’t something Toji is entirely familiar with and he finds that he hates the way the acidic feeling settles in his chest. 

“Not like that, baby. He just knows how much I’ve been wanting you. He called me on my bullshit years ago.” It would be embarrassing admitting that he’s been pining after you for so long if you didn’t smile and try to hide your face. He hears you mumble, “Thought it was just me,” as you tuck your face into the collar of his shirt to cover your smile. There’s a tremble or hesitance in your voice like you can’t believe Toji would pay you the time of day, like he wasn’t just chomping at the bit to get you in bed. It’s a fair assumption given his usually detached disposition that so few people take the time to see past. You’re one of them but he can appreciate the air of unknowns that lingers around him. Toji is just like he seems on camera. 

Rude, abrasive, volatile when provoked. He acts something like a grizzled guard dog but even they have people they’re gentle for. It’s almost sickening how easily he can see himself with you. Made worse by how easily you accept him. You’re giving him that look again, like he’s your favorite person in the world. 

“What’s that look?” He asks as you watch him get dressed. He brought you to his room so you can nap on an unsoiled bed. He wonders if the housekeepers will tuck your duck in again after washing his cum out of your sheets. 

“What look?” You have the nerve to ask like you’re not looking at him with more softness than he’s seen in his entire life. He decides not to mention it. The need for discretion that Shiu has been trying to drill into him will be lost in the wind soon enough. Toji already couldn’t take his eyes off you and now he has more reason to be with you all the time. Media be damned, he’s gonna be all over you now that you’re his, officially. And you seem to share the sentiment as you curl up on top of him as soon as he gets in bed, humming happily when his arms find your waist. He hears a sleepy murmuring of “I’m your girlfriend,” soft and giggly like you couldn’t be more happy about it. It’s like a final nail in the coffin for Toji. He’s always thought of you as his girl and now it’s finally real. No cameras, no audience. Unscripted and real. 

#toji ★ #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #★ mine!

[thewertsearch]

GG: yaaaaaay!!! GA: Youll Need Somewhere To Keep Them While They Grow

Vriska would approve.

Also, I hope that water's fresh.

GG: so what is the actual purpose of all this breeding? GG: am i trying to make one really special frog with just the right genetic code or something? GG: sort of like the ULTIMATE FROG :O GA: Actually GA: Yes GA: Thats Exactly What Youre Doing […] GA: Your Objective Is To Breed The Genesis Frog

The Genesis Frog - a phrase I’m willing to bet is capitalized even without Kanaya’s quirk - would fit right in with Bilious Slick's other titles.

I think Jade's literally trying to create Slick, or an iteration of him, and that deriving his genome is crucial to the session's endgame. He's been haunting us for thousands of pages, and his importance is nothing less than absolute.

GA: You Cant Complete The Game Without Doing So GA: Your Entire Mission Depends On Breeding Him

Finally.

Come on, Kanaya, play ball with me here.

What is the purpose of Bilious Slick, the Genesis Frog?

GG: what do we do after i make this big god froggy? GG: does it have something to do with the new universe we create? GA: Most Certainly

...oh my fucking god.

Oh my FUCKING god.

She's deadass, isn't she? She's not being figurative, allegorical or metaphorical. Kanaya is literally saying that if you zoom out far enough from a universe, you'll see Bilious Slick's beady eyes staring back at you. The true shape of reality is a thing that croaks.

This is why Derse hates him. He's a symbol of Player victory, and Derse's entire raison d'etre is to oppose the Players. The amphibian civil war was signalling the opposing Carapacian attitudes to the creation of a universe.

This is why Aradia associates Slick with probability. He contains all possibilities because he's made of Paradox Space.

This is why Vriska was so surprised that John found one in his Land. Creating frogs is an endgame quest, and her own Space Player took weeks to make progress in cloning them.

The Forge hasn't even entered yet, and John's already holding one of the ancestors of his nascent universe.

And this the answer to the Great Frog Riddle. It's why Slick stands at the peak of every Sburb Temple - because he is its genesis, its purpose and its prize.

Bilious Slick is more than a god – he’s a space for gods to fill.

It's shit like this that makes Homestuck my favorite webcomic of all. The Ultimate Reward - the grand prize of reality's great game - is a fucking frog.

#full liveblog #homestuck liveblog #act 5.2 #3318 #s118

[ilwonuu]

if your taking requests, could you write something angsty for jeonghan? I love your writing it’s cute and I think accurate to the person. Keep up the great work 🫶🏽🫶🏽

yes of course hehehehe,,, thank you so much that is so sweet. im so happy you enjoy my work!!! i hope you enjoy this too<3

𝗀𝗈 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒

⇝ 𝗒𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇

❀ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀－ 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗐𝖻 𝖻𝖼 𝗒𝗎𝗆<𝟥 ， 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅！𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

❀ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌- 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 （𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅） ， 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍， 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄，，，𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾， 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾，，， 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖼 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾<𝟥， 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 （𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅）， （𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾）， 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 ！！！！

❀ 𝖺／𝗇- 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺 𝗉𝗍 𝟤 𝗁𝖾𝗁𝖾，，， 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗑 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇<𝟥 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽，，，

jeonghan never goes this long without talking to you. the last time you saw him was 2 days agao. it’s weird for best friends. very weird for you and jeonghan. obviously there’s a reason. the reason being you confessing your feelings to him. jeonghan did not like hearing that.

it scared him away definitely, you thought. you feel awful about it. why couldn’t you just have left it alone? kept it to yourself maybe? then maybe you could still have him as a friend at least. but it wasn’t fair to him. you were falling more in love with him.

you thought he was falling in love with you too. and he was. he couldn’t come to terms with knowing that. of course he could tell. he was happy. he couldn’t do it. the last thing he wants is to ruin all these years of being friends with you. he just wants to kiss you and not have it ruin anything. you both know that that’s not how it would go.

he’s scared of committing to you. he wants to be perfect and that’s too much pressure on its own so he pushes you away. for weeks. you were broken. your job was the only thing getting you through the days. your co workers cheer you up as best as they can but all you want is jeonghan.

why can’t he just talk to you about it and stop hiding? putting you through all of this stress just because he can’t talk to you. you have been working less since jeonghan decided to just forget about you. well you hoped he didn’t actually forget about you.

you were exhausted after a shift as your phone rang. it was jeonghan. you shivered in cold sweat as you answered. tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“i’m outside- please let me in.” you can’t even respond to him. you hang up on him without a response. you hesitate to open the door for him but you really miss him.

maybe he’s coming with good news? if he was coming with good news it wouldn’t have took him 3 weeks.

you still tried to convince yourself that he could want you in the same way. you open your front door nervously. jeonghan looks tired. he doesn’t look like himself. he’s wearing the sweater you got him. you almost cry at the sight.

“can i come in?” you nod at him as he steps in. it’s awkward and it’s never been that way before. he follows you to the couch. both of you are scared of this conversation. both of you want each other. jeonghan just wished you wanted him the same way as him.

“first of all- i’m a fucking asshole. i know you can be upset with me for as long as possible i deserve it. but i’m sorry for treating you like that. i never want to go that long without talking to you again.” you tear up already with a nod. you had so many built up emotions.

“jeonghan- i’m really upset with you yeah. you fucking ghosted me! i thought you were never gonna talk to me again.” he shakes his head.

“never- angel you really thought that?” he grabs your hand, he feels like complete shit. “well what else was i supposed to this jeonghan?” you were crying at this point. he couldn’t believe he made you cry.

he wishes he wasn’t so stupid about his decisions. “i’m so so sorry i didn’t talk to you. i- was scared of the thought of feelings and i still am. i have to be honest with you.” you feel your heart drop when he says those words.

“i c-can’t commit to a relationship. i just can’t-“ you nod quickly at him. why are you doing this to yourself? you know how much you like him. you know he means friends with benefits. you shouldn’t settle less for what you want. but you would do anything to have jeonghan.

“jeonghan?” you stop him with a soft smile. “can i kiss you?” you are basically setting yourself up for failure. jeonghan is just too pretty. he nods at you slowly as he leans over to kiss you. the kiss is so desperate. you can tell how much jeonghan wants you. his lips are sloppy against yours.

“this isn’t a good idea.” he says in between kisses. you don’t respond to him. all you want to do is keep kissing him.

“you’re gonna regret this angel.” you just wish he would stop rubbing it in.

“i just want you hannie-“ you reach for him.

“are you sure?” you beg him practically.

yoon jeonghan was a asshole. he didn’t lie when he said he you would regret it. you wish you never slept with jeonghan. your best friend flirting with another girl at a party.

he knew you were right there and he didn’t care. you wish you didn’t care about jeonghan as much as you do. because clearly he doesn’t care about you.

you can’t hell but to cry over the boy. he comes over to you like nothing happened. you knew you couldn’t talk to him about it again. you couldn’t lose jeonghan. the last thing you wanted was for him to stop talking to you again.

you rather have him treat you this way than to not have him at all. you wish he could see how this affects you.

you really hate yoon jeonghan.

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