#this can’t keep happening I get so ill so fucking often

[strawbabysweet]

If I keep getting ill I’m going to fucking lose it I swear

#🐰ྀི yapping #NO BC I JUST GOT MY PERIOD #AND CANT MOVE TOO QUICKLY WITHOUT VOMITING #NOW I HAVE A REALLY SORE THROAT #AND A BLOCKED NOSE #OUT OF NOWHERE #NOT TO MENTION THE CONSTANT COUGHING #sorry I’m like genuinely gonna go insane #this can’t keep happening I get so ill so fucking often #vicks vapo rub saving my life rn #anyways guys trust I’ll catch up on all ur fics soon you just gotta give me a moment

[peachsayshi]

Can you write about how the JJk characters are like in their yandere version.

anon, I have actually been thinking about this recently - here’s some thoughts on yandere gojo, geto, nanami and choso!

(minors & ageless blogs dni) // tags: dark content (ish?); dub con; possessive; controlling; somno; mentions use of sex toy; use of pet name kitten; smut // a/n: I don’t usually write stuff like this so please don’t read if you aren’t comfortable!

GOJO - overwhelms you; he can’t keep his hands to himself whenever you’re around. he doesn’t care that you get nervous when he plays with your hair while you talk. he often loses his concentration to brush his knuckles down your cheek or swipe his thumb along your bottom lip. he expects a kiss whenever you greet him or say goodbye -and this kiss isn’t a chaste one on the cheek but a deep, consuming one on the lips. he wants to taste you on his tongue, to draw out every little breath and claim it as his own. the first time it happened you whimpered “s’too much,” but he just smiled against your lips and replied: “actually it’s not enough.”

you don’t fully understand why he treats you like this; why he can’t accept that his physical touch is more than you can handle. you hate that his face grows menacing when you deny him of what he wants, but you always end up succumbing to his advances. “this isn’t right, w-we aren’t even-ah…lovers…” you whisper in protest, your fingers digging into his lap while his own brush over your nipples underneath your shirt. he glides his nose up your neck and leaves a soft kiss just behind your ear as he pinches the sensitive buds. “we can be, angel…” he exhales, but his dark tone sends a shiver down your spine. “…it’s all I ever wanted…”

GETO - punishes you; you never expect him to behave cruelly towards you, because the man adores you in every way possible and regards you with nothing but admiring eyes. he’s so unbelievably sweet, you often question what you have done to deserve his heart in the first place. yet, you still find yourself easily triggering his jealousy. he won’t stand having others look at you, nor will he let it slide when you put yourself in positions of being around others who fancy you. it doesn’t matter how innocent the situation is - like when you decided to meet up with an old friend or when you gave the barista a gentle smile as he handed you your coffee - suguru will easily find it as an excuse to to remind you of what his love means over others.

“this is all they see when they look at you, you know?” he growls in frustration, his firm hands pressing your knees as he keeps you spread for him. “…your needy little cunt begging to be stuffed. they don’t give a shit about you…” - you whine when he thrusts his hips, because he’s rough and it’s entirely purposeful. he takes in the marks on your throat, your chest, and your inner thighs before softening his hard gaze. he brushes his mouth over your quivering lips, leaving a tender kiss in the wake of his retribution. “but I do, sweetheart…” he coos, as he finally eases his movements and you sigh with relief when he brings his fingers to your sensitive clit. “…I love you so fucking much. can’t you see that?”

NANAMI - controls you; he uses subtle manipulation tactics to make this happen, and because he’s supremely intelligent, it’s difficult for you to catch on when he does it. he has no ill intentions - he just wants to take care of you, and that has given him reason to claim ownership over you. you thought the diamond choker he bought for you was simply a sweet gift, but he’s particular about you wearing it at all times (except when taking a shower and sleeping). when your lease was up for renting your apartment, he arranged to have you move in with him without questioning how you might feel. “it’s for the best,” he insists, “you shouldn’t have to worry.”

he thrives off your submission; you so eagerly want to please him because you’re grateful for everything that he’s given to you. you’ll easily comply, and it works out beautifully for him. he narrows his gaze when he looks at you trembling against his sheets. “kento…wanna cum…” you mumble, and his ego flares at how you’ve been reduced to such a wet mess. he slowly shifts his gaze towards the phone screen, his thumb hovering over the control of the vibrating toy inside your cunt. “I know, kitten…” he sighs before taking a sip of his drink, pretending to show some consideration as he drags his finger to increase the speed. a wicked smile highlights his exceptionally handsome face, but your eyes roll to the back of your head that you don’t even notice - “just a little longer, hmm?”

CHOSO - claims you; he’s selfish about requiring your attention, and demands it at all hours. he hides how overbearing he is with his needy behavior, but he yearns for you in a way that aches. your time should belong to each other, it’s something precious that you both share together, and he can’t comprehend how you don’t feel the same way. of course he understands that you need space, but giving it to you is harder than he expected. he’ll often show up unannounced when you’re home alone or out with your friends, and he greets you by holding you tightly while murmuring “I miss you,” against your skin.

“please cho…” you implore, your heavy eyes drifting open as your fingers pull on the strands of his hair. “m’tired tonight…” - you are met with a hot gaze as he stares at you intensely from underneath his lashes, his lips suctioned over your clit while his fingers brush up against your gummy walls. he often does this when you’re sleeping, unable to resist himself even during the peaceful hours of the night. he doesn’t respond to your pleas, but proceeds to slurp and lick your tender pearl with even more conviction. “cho…” you hiccup, moaning a long, drawn out vowel as your breath shakes, “just…just one sec…” - he lifts his lips, his hungry eyes shifting down to focus on the sound of your pussy squelching around his thick fingers. “I’ll stop after this, okay, baby? I’ll let you go to sleep once you cum…”

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #yandere gojo #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #yandere geto #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #yandere nanami #choso x reader #kamo choso x reader #yandere choso #jujutsu kaisen smut

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

Entanglement (1/2)

PAIRING: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Medic F!Reader 

A/N: my little contribution to the 141 challenge by the amazing @glitterypirateduck || but I was very tipsy when I wrote this and am very tipsy as I post it sO IT DOESNT COUNT DO NOT PERCEIVE ME || I WILL SOBER WRITE A PART 2 PROMISE

Prompts used: Military Base, Dude in Distress, Take care of each other (helping w/bath, stitches, haircut, sickness, etc.),  “Who did this to you?”

Part 1 || Part 2 || 

____

The base is quiet this time of year—it’s nice.  The quiet is obviously preferable to the chaos, and sometimes you like just sitting with your thoughts in your cozy little nook on base.   There are a handful of people around, all of whom you liked, one of whom you really liked, but you’d bite your tongue off before you ever said that out loud.  Especially to him.  

And it’s like you’ve summoned him by just the power of your thoughts, because he walks into your little office with his hand clenched tight over his bleeding arm (that you had just sutured) and a large smile on his face.  His eyes dart around quickly and then come back to yours happily, grin widening from noting that you were the only one in the infirmary at that moment.  

“You’re a fucking idiot.”  You use your chin to point  at the leaking bandage over his arm, and start to gather your supplies.   

But Soap’s never been one to dwell. “Yeah,” he agrees, easily. “Go’ me here though, didn’ it, bonnie?”

“What happened?  Who did this to you?” 

He leans closer and whispers, conspiratorially.  “Very bad men, bonnie. But ah’ll keep them away from you, promise.”

You shake your head and turn away, having to pretend to grab something from behind you so that your charming, gorgeous hunk of a patient doesn’t see your shy smile.  “You’re bleeding out again, MacTavish.  I need to fix this.  Again.”

“Oh, bonnie, y’er the only who can,” he sighs, dramatically, and.  It’s stupid.  It’s such a stupid fucking line but  you still want to find somewhere to hide, your smile finally spilling out into your cheeks.

MacTavish is a shameless flirt.  Everyone knows this, it’s a very ill-kept secret, not that Johnny would want it to be a secret at all.  It comes naturally to him—stupid words spew out of him and suddenly, you want to cover your heated cheeks with your palms and look anywhere but into his bright blue eyes.    

He waits for you to look back at him, and you have to roll your eyes at the giddy grin he wears on his face.  

“Alright then, sergeant, let’s see the damage, shall we?”

“Oh the damage is far too deep t’fix, luv,” he says, but grins and extends his arm for you to look at anyway.

The sight of his blood-covered arm makes you wince in sympathy, and you start to slowly unwrap the gauze and tape around his arm before you clean his wound.   The wound on his arm looks angry and almost pulses in front of your eyes, and he winces and groans as you begin to suture.   You shush him quietly everytime, and try to concentrate—really, you do—but you can feel his eyes on your face.

When you look back up at him, he doesn’t even do you the courtesy of looking away.  No, the man makes eye contact with you, eyes shining.  

It takes you some effort to rearrange your features into the look of mild tiredness that you wear around him often. “Can I help you, MacTavish?”

“‘Fraid I’m beyond y’help, bonnie,” he grins, cocky and sure, and so fucking handsome.  “Though…y’could go out wi’me.  Might make me hurt less.”

“God,” you say, rolling your eyes.  “You know that I can’t.”  His pout makes you laugh, and you stand up to go wash your hands.  Before you get too far away from him, though, you feel warm fingers wrap around your wrist and squeeze gently. 

“MacTavish,” you whisper.  “We can’t.”  The words are insistent, and you put what feels like considerable effort into sounding like you mean them, but your attention is caught by the slow, almost hypnotic motion of his ridiculously pink tongue wetting his lips.  When your eyes finally meet his, you already know what he’s going to say.        

“You could, though, bonnie.  Y’could go out wi’me.”

“Johnny…”  

“Could make it worth y’while,” he whispers, suggestively, and this time it’s his eyes that linger on your lips before they come back up to meet yours.  “Keep the bad men away from ya, if you'd like”  His words are flirty and unserious, as usual, but God, does he manage to look earnest as he says them. 

"All of them?" you wonder out loud.

His eyes shine as you play along. He considers your words for a moment. "No. Not all of 'em."

“We could be caught,” you counter.  “Won’t your Captain have your head for it?”

“‘N I'd happily go out for you, sweet girl.” 

You shake your head as you write him a prescription for the pain.  “You’re incorrigible. I’m not going to be reassigned because you’re horny, Sgt. MacTavish.”

“Horny,” he gasps in mock-horror. “Horny?  Ahm’ here out of m’mind in love, hen!  Horny, she says!”  He shakes his head and his smile dims a little, but only for a second, before his eyes light up, wickedly. “Consider it.  We’d make bonnie children, aye?”

You freeze because…what is there to even say to that. 

When he kisses your cheek and whistles cheerily on his way out, you do find yourself considering it.

#141challenge #johnny mctavish #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #lumi writes #also #super soap sunday

[raisedbythetv89]

The writers I think mostly completely by accident with the assistance of James charming his way into becoming a main character created the perfect storm to ensure people who love spike would reach absolute peak levels of being completely obsessively deranged about him forever

Season 2:

He’s a punk rock villain with killer cheekbones, enchanting eyes, and an absolutely DEVILISH smile - who’s an incredibly dedicated and dangerous fighter who specifically seeks out challenging fights he’s not guaranteed to win (brave and reckless - normally traits seen in heroes) hates everyone except his mentally ill physically sick wife (the statistics of men who leave their wives when they get sick in the US is horrifying like nurses literally have to warn married women who get sick it happens so often) who he’s hopelessly devoted to and unbelievably soft with and always listens to her while also exuding a psychotic amount of sex appeal and is just F U N he loves being a vampire and he loves fighting and it makes it so much fun for the audience. While still showing how much he respects and admires his enemy for her skill, strength, resourcefulness, and intelligence - NEVER underestimating her just because she’s a tiny blonde girl - and instead of destroying the world for love he SAVES the world for love - a villain doing good to get the love of his life back who essentially dumped him for her ex????????? D E V O T E D and shockingly extremely trustworthy??? And has amazing chemistry with our heroine and is there for a pivotal moment in her life and is the only one there for her when she has no one else????? *enemies to lovers girlies ENTER THE CHAT*

Season 3:

He shows he fucking MEANS IT when he says Dru is the love of his life when he shows up in Sunnydale because he blames Angel not Buffy or Drusilla but the man actually responsible for all their problems and he is the most pathetic mess we’ve ever SEEN!!!! He’s crying and drunk all the time and he’s so sad he goes to Buffy’s mom TO TALK 💀😭 our pathetic sensitive little self admitted lover boy who KNOWS he’s love’s bitch and he won’t be pretending he’s anything otherwise who shows how clearly he sees and understands other people and the depths of his emotional intelligence so much so Buffy herself admits she can’t fool Spike she can fool her friends BUT NOT SPIKE OR HERSELF EXCUSE ME MA’AM WHAT???????

AND Spike doesn’t just uselessly MOPE forever he gets some perspective and is like I know what I’m gonna do to her back and I’m gonna go do that now! 😁👍🏻 showing he never stays down for long and is always gonna get back up to keep fighting for his love while BOTH he and Buffy still honor the truce even though he’s broken it by coming back??? While Buffy’s all “I violently dislike you” YEAH OK GIRL WHATEVER YOU SAY *enemies to lovers girlies chomping at the bit intensifies*

Season 4:

CLEARLY heartbroken about Drusilla (DEVOTED!!!) but it’s turned into anger and resentment directed at Harmony who how bizarre looks nothing like Drusilla but A LOT like Buffy…… hmmmmmmmmmmmmm HOW INTERESTING *enemies to lovers girlies are vibrating with anticipation that turns into a full blown combustion when something blue happens*

Spike doesn’t pretend to love Harmony in order to get what he wants from her (shown in direct contrast to Parker) he’s ironically very honest despite being a villain - he’s showing he’s STILL loyal to Drusilla in ONLY loving her even after she’s dumped him... again!

We see Spike treat Buffy the EXACT same way he treated Drusilla during something blue reaffirming THIS IS HOW THIS MAN LOVES WHEN HE LOVES YOU. He’s extremely affectionate, helpful, protective, caring - D E V O T E D - and is truly just the most certified lover boy we’ve ever fucking seen

Season 5:

SURPRISE HE’S SECRETLY A LOVESICK MAMA’S BOY POET AT HEART UNDERNEATH THE BAD BOY PERSONA AND A PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER AND NOW BUFFY AND HER FAMILY’S MOST LOYAL DEFENDER AND IS WILLING TO DIE NOT JUST FOR BUFFY BUT FOR ALL THE SUMMERS WOMEN AND HE KNOWS AND SEES BUFFY SO DEEPLY AND INTIMATELY AND CAN HOLD SPACE FOR HER PAIN LIKE NO ON ELSE CAN AND SHOWS THE DEVOTION THAT ONCE BELONGED TO DRUSILLA NOW BELONGS TO BUFFY AND IT IS GOING NOWHERE EVEN WHEN SHE DIES AND WE'VE SEEN IN HIM CRY BEFORE BUT NEVER HAVE WE SEEN HIM BREAK DOWN LIKE HE DOES AT THE SIGHT OF BUFFY'S BODY!!!!!!!!!!!

*all of us screaming, crying, throwing up, climbing the walls and generally just losing our minds*

Season 6:

No soul, his love is so great for Buffy as is his loyalty and devotion to her, he now helps all of his dead love’s friends fight evil and is raising her sister and dreams of saving her every night for 148 nights 🤚🏻😭 don’t even fucking talk to me I can’t take it

Forgive the absolute 180 in tone change here:

Dick game is FIRE - his touch is the only thing that makes Buffy feel alive AND SHE WAS IN HEAVEN BRO SHE KNOWS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE IN HEAVEN AND SPIKE IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING HER GOING like damn girl yes YOU FUCK THAT HOUSE DOWN!!! Also he is now just naked 50% of the time just to drive us all even FURTHER out of our minds and somehow has just gotten even hotter as the seasons have gone on like this is what’s been hiding under the leather jacket all this time! Enjoy!

And THE MOST unintended consequence of jw’s vindictive writing:

SPITE

He clearly didn’t want us to love Spike and tried to manipulate us into hating him in such a blatant and clumsy ooc attempt all that did was weed out the weakest amongst the Spuffy/Spike fans until all that remained were us:

The most devoted and stubborn fans who REFUSED to have the thing they loved ruined or taken away from us and were smart enough to see through his bullshit manipulation attempt in the first place.

Genuinely they created the equivalent of supersoilder strength level fans with this absolutely lethal combination of events 💀

AND THEN as if all that wasn't enough he goes and gets his soul on purpose for Buffy so he can be the man she deserves and she can love him without hating herself for loving him despite the immense pain it will cause him which is the most selfless thing we have ever seen anyone do for Buffy only to be topped when he sacrifices himself to destroy the hellmouth, save the world and free her from Sunnydale!!! Plus ya know once he gets the soul even though he did it for her he never tries to use that as leverage to get anything from her like he truly expects nothing from her at all but still wants to help her and James delivers the most devastating performances we've ever fucking seen, finally tells her friends off which has needed to happen for 5 seasons, the "you're the one speech" him being a dad to all the potentials with Buffy giving us supernatural parent core who made it through their rough patch with their first kid in season 6 with Dawn and now are just the beautiful team with their found family and Buffy finally has someone who can truly carry her burdens with her and just all the tenderness and devotion they both deserve after so many years of pain and fighting. Basically giving the audience the message that even if you have a metric ton of pain and trauma there are people out there who see you and understand you and there is a chance for you to heal both together and separately to build your own version of a more normal and stable life. It's a message of such hope and I personally know several people, including myself who watched what Spike and Buffy have and it inspired us to look at the relationships we were in and realize we deserved SO MUCH MORE than what we were getting and in my case it turned out I was being emotionally abused and manipulated that entire time!! Much like Buffy was by both Riley and Angel. So it isn't an exaggeration to say Spuffy saved my life in a lot of ways both in being there for me at such a dark time and helping me draw a map of how to get out. Not to mention loving them in fandom spaces has helped me connect with so many people just like me who share very similar experiences and have helped me feel so much less alone and has helped me heal in so many ways 🖤

Spuffies get "hOw cAn yOu liKe sPiKe aFtEr wHaT hE dId" all the fucking time and truly the better question is how can you NOT like Spike???? HAVE YOU BEEN PAYING ATTENTION AT ALL??? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT GOOD RELATIONSHIPS NEED TO WORK?? BECAUSE AT THEIR CORE SPUFFY HAS THEM ALL!

It's jw writing so NOTHING will escape his toxic bullshit but Spike - because he was hated by jw for so long - so much of the time when he tried to make Spike less popular he just kept making him better and more complex and more and more targeted to the female gaze which is exactly why he snapped and made the choices he literally forced everyone else to go along with despite their protests with that scene to make it the most traumatizing scene in all of Buffy history not just for the audience but for the actors as well because yes it is incredibly horrific and upsetting to watch (which is why I skip it on rewatches) but I still am able to see if for what it is which is a narcissist lashing out at people he hates because he hasn't been able to control them and too bad for him I refuse to be manipulated by his bullshit so it failed completely and made so many of us that much more stubbornly protective of Spike and his and Buffy's relationship not just from other fans but from the creator himself 🙃🖕🏻like he basically just trauma bonded us to Spike and Buffy which has led to the creation of one of the most devoted, loyal, intelligent fanbases who is absolutely unhinged (affectionate) with their love of this character and his relationship which is why we are all still creating and writing about this character 25 year later and show absolutely zero signs of slowing down or stopping 💀

#spuffy #spike btvs #meta #btvs meta #spike and buffy meta #spike btvs meta #spuffy meta #also every spuffy I know shares so much life experiences and personality traits with buffy herself like we are often making choices #and judgements about the narrative from the perspective of buffy herself & we’re all picking spike #so many people who pick other love interests truly so often rarely see buffy for who she is either #if you don’t get spuffy you don’t truly understand buffy herself

[ncteez]

philoselene (k.h.j)

You weren’t sure what to think of Hongjoong, with his ever-changing hair and ever-growing piercings. He is the complete opposite of you, and you’re unsure of why he keeps gravitating toward you, or why he found an interest in you at all. Through his eyes though, he swears you’d be able to handle the weight of the moon if he were to pull it down for you.

or the one where hongjoong would do just about anything for you, and he can’t help but show it when he’s got you on top of him for the first time.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog. 

WORDCOUNT― 6.2k

PAIRING― alt!stoner!hongjoong x afab reader 

CONTENT― some weed smoking and moon gazing happen, a little bit of them struggling to translate their thoughts into words that make sense, very fluffy stuff, he’s a little shy about his body, service top hongjoong, first time together, intensely passionate smut

NOTE― just fyi, i know the description makes it seem like the reader is insecure. I can assure you, she is not. It’s just two people learning that they fit together like a puzzle, and wanting to know each other’s thought processes. anyway, im very in love with hongjoong and that’s why I basically just wrote comfort smut. BYE. not proof read so pls dont point out my typos, ill actually cry. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― makeout sessions, they’re really really high so the experience is kind of slow motion, frottage, sweet-talking rather than dirty talking, brief mutual masturbation, missionary on a couch, he’s a service top but it’s not heavily described here bc like– he’s just hella into her and feels good no matter what she does, ummm, unprotected sex bc im lazy

~

             The man whose hair changes at each new moon cycle, the one who smells like winter but has the eyes of a smoldering flame spreading to a forest fire. Both his charm and his wit are entirely unmatched if anyone you’ve ever met in your life is to go by. His hands are the most gentle, and goddamn does he know how to dress to piss off the local business owners. 

           A new ear piercing for him usually meant heartbreak, be it a lost friend, a failed project, or even an incorrect lunch order at the run-down diner across town. Everything about Hongjoong is telling. He is not mysterious, nor does he want to be.

             You, on the other hand, are the complete opposite in terms of how you carry yourself. You worry too much, your posture is slouched when it shouldn’t be, your confidence wavers more often than you’d like to admit, and you keep to yourself most of the time. Minimizing yourself, snuffing out any flame or glow that threatens to show to anyone less than a close friend. You dress much like your personality, muted. 

             This is why you question the dynamic on each date you end up on with Hongjoong. Dinner dates, movie dates, walks in the park. Normal. fucking. dates. The dynamic between the two of you is anything but natural to you. Time after time now, seeing him after sunset looking at you much like he would if he were seeking out constellations, you feel like you’re not a person meant to be looked at this way. You’ll never get used to another person wanting to spend this time with you, like they’re finding comfort in your silence. What do you have that seems to fulfill him? 

             Even now, six hours after the date started, you find yourself next to Hongjoong and his bright smile. The small rolled joint burned out minutes ago, and the dull city skyline bursts with pinks and purples from the sunset.  His smile is one that is entirely soft and focused on you. All of his attention, on you. The one thing in the world you hate, he gives to you and makes you feel as though you don’t hate it nearly as much as you did before meeting him. 

“Hongjoong,” You whisper into the brisk air, bumping your leg against his as he tilts his chin up as if to let you know he’s listening to whatever you want to say. “This is our– what? Seventh date?” 

           He nods with a hum. 

“First time at my place though, so we can still call it a first date.” He offers, reaching his arms out and feeling the stretch of his muscles relax him.  His arms fall back to his side and his eyes fall back on you. 

           Never have you had this many first dates, nor has any man treated each date as such. 

“Why do you do that?” You laugh, slouching back against the weathered wicker couch, the balcony offering both the most wonderful and shitty view of the city. 

“Do what?” He asks, turning slightly towards you with a curious look. 

“Like, I don’t know,” you trail off, for some reason unable to look him in the eye as you continue to spiral into the slow and fuzzy high that his weed offers to you. He looks insanely attractive tonight, especially in this lighting. The colors somehow glow against his skin, contrasting with the dark and plush sweater he has on. It’s weathered much like this wicker furniture, but you imagine he’s comfortable inside of that sweater, sitting on this furniture, breathing in the same air you’re breathing out. “You always call each date the first one, I’m wondering when it’ll be, like, something more than that?”

           You can hear yourself talking and you can’t help but think you sound fucking stupid, but he chuckles in response. 

“I probably sound lame saying it but, I like that I learn something new about you each time. It’s not my fault that it always feels like a first date with you.” He laughs, making a face towards you that makes you laugh a bit louder than expected. 

“You act like I have something new and interesting to tell you every day,” He cuts you off as you try to speak.

“For instance, today I learned that you don’t even like the coffee I bring to you.” He’s snide when he says it, raising a brow at you. 

“What? Yes, I do!” You defend, definitely lying as you feel your stomach hit the concrete floor of his balcony. You’ve always been a terrible liar.

“Is that why you always leave it in my cup holder pretending like you forgot it?” 

           You narrow your eyes at him but can’t keep up the act much longer as the smile creeps wider across your lips. 

“You’re too observant of me,” You joke, not realizing how true it actually is. “You know I usually spend my days avoiding the idea of people noticing what I do, right?”

           He nods towards you, face fond and droopy from his high. 

“I think you’re cute when you notice that I notice,” he blinks away from you, watching the sun fall and the moon take its rightful spot in the sky. “Besides, if you don’t like it, you’d stop letting me take you out, right?”

           He’s actually looking for confirmation this time, not looking at you, and mostly preparing for the make-it-or-break-it moment now that you’ve finally worked up the courage to stop going with his flow. 

“I think I’m just confused over you wanting to spend time with me at all, actually.” You admit, knowing for a fact that you appear to be the most boring human alive, and not many people stick around to find the actual personality within you. 

           Hongjoong looks at you this time, genuinely shocked that you’d even say that or feel confused over why he chooses to spend time with you.

“Well, I can go down a list of reasons, if you want?”

           You prop yourself up, fixing your posture and wiggling your brows.

“Please, do.” You say, feeling a permanent smile form on your face. 

           Hongjoong claps his hands on his thighs before lifting his legs and turning on the wicker couch to face you, tucking himself into the smallest version of himself as he huddles into his oversized sweater. 

“Alright, for starters, you’re not as boring as you think you are. What person would have climbed that no-trespassing fence with me without asking a single question?” 

           He’s just gloating at you now. Most people would absolutely do that with him. 

“Literally, anyone would have done that with you.”

           He waves you off.

“You like the same anime I like and the same music. You even knew of the band I was in during my senior year of high school!” 

           You nod, he’s got a point there.

“You’re not loud or constantly demanding attention. I like that you just kind of exist. Sometimes I just need to exist too, but people always expect more, you know?” 

           Hongjoong’s eyes trail off, landing on the darkening sky and seeking out the moon. 

“When we hang out, I feel like there’s nothing we actually need to do in order to call it a date. You’re the only person I’ve continuously taken out. You’ve made it clear that you expect nothing from me.”

           You nod, but tilt your head in question as your own eyes follow his gaze to the moon. 

“So, it makes me want to give you everything.”

           Unsure of if it’s the weed talking through him or if he meant what he just said, you still find yourself melting a bit at his voice when he says it. The words feel like they hold a lot of weight for him, and you didn��t even know that weight existed until now. 

“Do you always say these types of things when the moon is in the right position, and the weed is dank as hell?”

           He snorts, tucking his chin into his chest as he laughs before reaching out and swatting you on the shoulder. 

“What I’m trying to get at here, because I know by now that you’re not going to pick up on any hints is that I kind of want this to be the last first date.”

           You find yourself panicking at that, unsure of what the fuck that’s supposed to mean. Hongjoong instantly regrets his awful attempt at wording that. “Unmatched wit” his ass, he can genuinely say the dumbest shit in the most important situations. 

“Wait–” He pauses, mouth falling slack as he visibly searches his brain for the correct words. “Okay, let me rephrase that.”

           You wait, feeling relieved at his panic and the slow recovery of what he just said to you. 

“What I meant by last first date, is like, um–” It’s lost on him again as you watch his eyes squint into a smile instead, the sparkle of his eyes matching the glints from his various earrings. “I’m trying to ask you to be my girlfriend, fuck.”

           This. This is another reason why he likes you this much. Though he saw your eyes fall, and though he said what he needed to say incorrectly at first, you didn’t question him. You didn’t put words in his mouth or react in a way that wouldn’t allow his own recovery. His ability to talk to women right now is highly reduced, but his ability to talk to you is forever comfortable even when he fucks up. You let him fuck that up, and now you’re smiling at him and he can’t help but let his heart swell three times its original size. 

“So,” he coughs, looking back to the moon and then back at you. “I guess we can’t have any more first dates if every time we see each other, we are technically, like, dating, right?”

           You snort at his inability to string together a coherent sentence, knowing full well that both of you have the ability to navigate everyday conversations high. Given the fact that the two of you have been in public before pretending like you didn’t just hotbox his car. It’s just that, this isn’t an everyday conversation and you’d like to think that you probably sound like an idiot too. You’re somehow right there with him even if you feel like you’re on two different pages of two different books. 

“You have a point,” you say, managing to fit his words into a sentence that makes sense in your brain. “Delivery could have been better though.” 

           The lighting on his cheekbones says enough about his own permanent smile matching yours. If you believed in fairytales, you’d genuinely think that the two of you are in your own little world with nothing but the moon and expensive ass weed. 

“You’re supposed to say yes, by the way.” Hongjoong urges you, both of you kind of entering into a giggle fit because of the warmth spreading throughout your bodies. 

           You nod, agreeing that, yes, you’ll definitely be his girlfriend. 

 ~

             The first kiss with Hongjoong may have been the warmest you’ve ever felt. It was smooth, a little peckish, and overall quite sweet. Even over the weeks he had been taking you out, he never once kissed you or did little more than be some of the best company you could find yourself with. The first kiss taking place after making things official was something you weren’t used to. 

           And so, that first kiss on his balcony became a second kiss, and then a third and fourth, until the two of you moved into his living room to escape the breeze that had by then made your fingers cold. Fifth, sixth, seventh– and then finally, the eight kiss was one that could have meshed all of the kisses in your life into one. The first heated kiss.

           His couch became more comfortable than it was when you first came here, especially now with him beside you, cradling your face and leaving gentle kisses all along your jawline before trailing back to your lips. He’s your boyfriend now and for some reason, you don’t feel yourself doubting why that is. He is proving to you right now how much he likes you, and you try to do the same for him. Your hazy eyes are unable to stay open for too long under the pressure of his lips fluttering all over your face, and you feel loved for the first time in a long time. 

           It didn’t feel awkward to reach up with your eyes closed to try and put your fingers in his hair, even when you accidentally knocked him on the cheek instead. It didn’t feel like an alarm went off when he tugged at you to pull you over him, leaning himself back on the couch and reaching blindly for the tv remote to avoid the silence in the room save for lips smacking. 

           For the first time with another person, you felt safe and at home when his hands were roaming your body. 

           Both jackets were already off, and your cold fingers warmed up in his as he would eventually intertwine his fingers with yours as he kissed you. It didn’t feel rushed, and maybe it was just because you both were in a lazy state of peaked high, but you can almost feel every single touch be amplified. You’d be lying if you said your entire body wasn’t tingling. More silent than it has ever been between the two of you, it still feels like it’s where you should be.

           Hongjoong’s fingers in yours, his lips on yours, his tongue licking against yours, all of it is good. The sensations swam throughout your body to the point that you barely even notice that you’re turned on.

           Is it too much on the…what was it, seventh date? Is it too much on the first night of being his girlfriend after your first and eighth or thirteenth kiss? His lips are curled into this permanent little smile that tells you otherwise. He’s the one who pulled you on top of him, he’s the one who hasn’t pushed because he somehow knew you were enjoying the steamy make out session too much to let it end here.

           There’s no end goal at this moment with Hongjoong, nothing is telling you that you need to get off or get him off despite your body already tingling for it. There’s no rush with the man under you, with his moon-like eyes and messy dyed hair. He’s just as telling as he always has been, and without a word, you know that at this moment, he would take anything you give him and be perfectly content. 

“I can see you thinking, you know,” Hongjoong whispers, his fingers tightening their grip between your own. “We can just do this, I’m perfectly fine with just this.”

           You shake your head at him, squeezing his fingers and looking at him for a brief moment. Seeing him now like this, with his kissed lips and his hair just as messy as always, it hits you again that he’s yours. Not in a way that’s possessive, but like, he wants to be yours, and he wants you to be his. 

           Your eyes glance down to his lap, with his length sitting firmly between your legs and it makes your heart swell. Typically, men in this position would push you, pull you, and move you around on their arousal to try and get some sort of release but, not Hongjoong. He’s containing himself, assuring you that you don’t have to do anything more. Regardless of you sitting on his thighs, dangerously close to being able to please him this way. 

“Do you want more, though?” You ask him. 

His eyes are half-lidded and looking up at you as you speak, glancing down to your lips again as if he already misses them. You can see his answer in the silence, his grip on your hand tightening as his brain malfunctions at the very idea of you being the one to ask. He wants more for the sake of having you, but he also wants more for the sake of pleasing you. 

“Yeah?” You ask for confirmation of his silent answer, leaning down to kiss against the corner of his mouth before leaning back again. 

           He gives you a reassuring nod, his other hand snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him, onto his hardened length with a soft mewl at you. 

“I do,” he whispers against your ear, nuzzling his nose against your neck and trying to prevent his hips from bucking up as you sit on him. “I can give you more, too.”

           The way he says it to you with a soft rasp makes your stomach do flips, almost as if he’s pleading for you to let him, it makes your entire body tingle. Never has a man made you feel this way when you’re being intimate. You suppose Hongjoong is right though, from what he said before, about how almost every date appears to be the first one with the number of new things you learn about each other.

           You don’t need to respond to him though, because almost immediately after those words you turn your face slightly to kiss his temple, and he instantly releases your hand and puts it on the other side of your waist. Practically caging you against him as he holds you in place and dips back in to kiss you. 

           Within that kiss, you can hear his need. Throaty groans as he presses his length against you. Only the sound of fabric rubbing against fabric can be heard but it’s kind of a pretty sound. His weathered sweater feels warm when you tangle your fingers into the loosened fringe along his neck like, trying to work your hips to match his within this tight hug. 

           By the time he notices that you’re moving your hips on him, his grip loosens and he pulls back from the kiss, watching you pull yourself up and planting your arms on his shoulders to actually grind against him. 

           He runs his hands up and down your waist at this point, eyes watching the way you work yourself against him with a deep and burning fondness. He appears to be in awe, a crooked smirk appearing on his softened and kissed lips.

“You know,” Hongjoong chuckles softly, closing one eye and focusing on the feeling of the dry drag against him.. “It might just be because I’m high but I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good with denim practically rubbing me raw–”

           Your hips stop, and you try to ignore the fact that on any other day, those words would have absolutely ruined the mood, but for some reason, it doesn’t. You let out a breathy laugh, falling forward and laughing against his neck. The moon must be in the right position or something tonight, because everything does feel insanely good. Then again, maybe it’s just that he’s in the right position, or maybe it’s just you.

“Why would you–” You cut yourself off as you laugh, breathing in the scent of him once more before leaning back and backing off of his lap slightly. The look he gives you is nothing but fond and it kind of makes you feel more dazed than you already do. “Let's take them off then?” 

           Hongjoong gives you a polite nod, his hands releasing you but still chasing your warmth as you pull yourself off of him and wait for him to remove his pants. 

           He’s quick with it, of course, and you take it another step further to take yours off too, not looking him in the eye as you do it. Almost to hope that he doesn’t see you do it, to hope that he won’t think about it, or smile at it, or make a comment on it.

           Thankfully, he doesn’t and when you sit back on his lap, feeling his bare legs against yours and noting how fucking warm his skin is, all you can do is pretend like feeling someone else’s skin against yours is supposed to feel fleeting like this. 

           Your panties sit against his boxers now, and his warmth seeps through you so fast that you want to feel more. See more, touch more, kiss more, love more. You don’t hesitate to loop your fingers into a particularly big rip on his sweater and tug on it.

“This too?” He tilts his head, his own hand fiddling with the same rip that your fingers are intertwined with, and then looks away shyly..

All you can do is feel yourself spiraling further into the feeling of being with him. He’s got one strand of hair standing stiffly too, probably from the static of the couch rubbing against it, but it’s cute. It’s attractive, everything about him is attractive. 

His eyes continue to avoid your eyes when he lifts his sweater off of him, shivering at the cool apartment air hitting his skin all over rather than just through those rips and tears. You take note, especially when he does look at you and pulls you down into a kiss again as quickly as he can. He’s not letting you see him like this, bare from the waist up and almost from the waist down. 

The two of you must have been one soul at one point because you know what he’s doing and never have you had to be the one on the other side of this situation. Usually, you’re the one hiding when it feels overwhelming, you’re the one imagining that the person with you would be searching for imperfections. You pull back from his kiss, looking into his eyes before glancing down at his bare chest and stomach.

“You’re being shy,” You comment, leaning down to plant a kiss on his collarbone before looking back at him and tilting your head. “You’re never shy.” 

You work up the confidence in yourself now, lifting your shirt off and doing your best not to immediately mimic what he’s already done. Meaning, you don’t hide your exposed skin and instead, you try to sit proudly on top of him.

Hongjoong just watches, his lips falling slack at your bareness with a relieved sigh.

“How can I not be shy right now?” he smiles, leaning himself up this time and kissing against the plush flesh of your breast. 

           You sigh at the feeling of his lips against your chest, fingers automatically finding their way into his hair as you focus on the feeling. The emotion of it all sends you into overdrive because really? Everything about Hongjoong is loud, and you’re making him shy?

           The goosebumps continuously rise and fall as he works his lips across one breast to the other, up until his fingers are pushing the fabric of your bra to the side. He pulls back momentarily to look at them, eyes darting from one nipple to the other before looking up at your face. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” Hongjoong admits, dipping in and flicking one of your nipples with his tongue. 

“Oh?” You ask, officially grinding your hips again on his lap, feeling his cock twitch in his boxers. The drag feels lighter now that there’s not much fabric preventing the feeling. “For how long?”

“Third date,” he admits, trailing back to the other breast and sucking just next to your nipple, his other hand easily stimulating the one he just neglected. “Didn’t want to rush with you though, I’m always rushing.”

           You hum at his words, feeling special. All he makes you feel is special. And when he finally releases your chest from his mouth and falls back against the couch, even the way he looks at you confirms that your feelings about this aren’t unfounded. 

           You put more effort into your hips now, your mind spinning by this point at the way his touches are gentle. His chest rises and falls with each perfect drag up his length, small mewls of pleasure spilling from his lips every few seconds. Still, he just looks at you. 

           There’s really no rush here and the scary part about it is that you’re already so worked up that you wouldn’t mind a bit of rushing by this point.

           More and more you move your hips, and more and more Hongjoong appears to lose his composure. His hands gripping at you, his eyes unable to stay on one part of your body for too long, his teeth showing as he bites his lip just to compose himself from making the next step– and then–

           There it is. There he is, lunging forward and grabbing you, pulling you so close to him that your core is now seated directly on the head of his leaking cock. He moans at the pressure, kissing against your lips with so much passion that you wonder if he know’s how hot that was. 

           He’s lost in the moment and you can’t help but love it. With the way one of his hands holds your cheek as he kisses you and the other finds itself against your ass to push and pull you on his lap. At this point, you wonder if he could get off this way. With the way he’s acting, you think he could. Easily.

“Hongjoong,” You manage to gasp during the short breath between his frantic kiss. “We can–” 

           You’re cut off by him kissing you again, his hand guiding you down and forward on his length in a way that tells you he’s listening. He’s imagining what you’re about to say. 

“We can,” He groans in an answer to your unfinished question, taking in a deep breath when he pulls back from the kiss and looking down to see the head of his cock occasionally peeking from the waistband of his boxers. “Just tell me what you want.”

           Words escape you in that moment, so you use your body instead. Scooting back and almost taking the boxers with you you see a glimpse of his length. Heavy, leaking, twitching at the loss of your weight against it. You stare, wanting to devour this man whole at that moment but you hold back. You can give him head another time, honestly. After spending so long making out, grinding, and him playing with your breasts? You’re kind of ready to rush. Even just for a moment. 

           He watches your hands as they lower the boxers further, pulling them down until you can tuck them under your thighs to hold them in place. There, you just look at his cock and he just looks at you. 

           After a few seconds, you glance at him with shy eyes, blinking in a way to try and hide your blatant lust for what’s between his legs. He might believe that seeing you look at him this way is the best thing he’s ever experienced. His cock twitches unintentionally when he notices your blown pupils, especially when his eyes trail down. Now that the seat of your panties isn’t grinding against him, he can see a glimpse of the darkened wet spot.

           Now what to do? The two of you sitting here, horny out of your goddamn mind and the weed on top of it amplifying every touch, you can imagine that you both look like a pair of deer in headlights. 

           Hongjoong finishes what you started though, running his hand down your sides before grabbing himself and gently pumping once. You watch as he gathers the dripping pre-cum in his palm before smoothing it down his entire length while his eyes never leave the spot between your legs. Then he continues that, touching himself as you’re on him as if to tell you that he can finish himself off so you don’t have to. 

           Without really thinking, you find your own hand doing the same, sliding down your panties and the instant your fingers bump against your clit, you jolt and find yourself letting out a soft and pained moan at the sensitivity. 

“That–” Hongjoong takes in a sharp breath at the sound, squeezing the base of his cock with his hand and closing his eyes. “sounded so fucking pretty.”

           It wasn’t intentional and for a brief moment, you felt embarrassed by the sound. Once again though, Hongjoong pulls that confidence out of you like it’s what he was born to do. At this point though, your legs feel like jelly after being spread on top of him for so long and you think he can tell. 

“Mm, let’s move,” He comments, releasing his cock and tapping you with the other hand to stand up. “Lay back, I'll do the rest.”

           He gently instructs you, grabbing a pillow and placing it at the end of the couch for your head to lay against. You do so without question, both your legs and heart are weak at seeing him like this. 

“There, better?” He asks after you lay back. He leans over your side after a short nod from you and leaves a gentle kiss against your lips before placing his hand against your thigh. “Can I take these off?” 

           You nod, feeling him slip your panties down your legs before you watch him shimmy off his own boxers. 

           There, there it is. Both of you are entirely vulnerable to each other for the first time and you don’t feel a hint of wanting to stop. Not a worry, doubt, or insecurity can or will stop you at this moment. 

           He doesn’t let his eyes linger for too long at your exposed core just yet and instead he opts to place himself between your legs before leaning down and kissing you much like before. He can’t get enough of your lips if he’s being honest though. 

           You can feel the weight of his cock resting between your thigh and pussy and it does nothing more than make you want it more. You want him so bad by this point that you can’t really question how dumb you could sound actually asking for it. 

“Can you, like–” Your words are lost on you when he pulls back with a small smile and a curious look.

“Do you want to?” He asks, despite knowing this is where the situation was headed.

           You give a shy nod, reaching your hand down between the two of you and gripping him yourself for the first time. 

           He lets out a shaky breath with a laugh, humping his hips forward and into your hand intentionally when he does it. 

“Fuck,” He seethes out. “Yeah, okay.” He sighs this time, without shame still fucking himself into your hand and showing a desperate need for what you’re asking for. 

           You can’t help but get lost in it. Your hand guided his cock down and against your clit for a brief moment of sensitive relief before releasing a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding when you position him at your entrance. 

           He pushes in without holding back, but he’s slow with it. The head of his cock sank into the warm and clenched walls causing a pleasant stretch. Both of you let out a moan at this, feeling him push in slowly, continuously, until he’s bottomed out and nuzzling against your ear. 

“Sound so pretty when you moan,” he babbles against your ear, leaving wet and warm condensation from his breath there. “You could drive me insane like this.”

           You moan again, not entirely for his pleasure but simply because it feels so good. His cock pulsing inside of you when you clench around him, his soft voice in your ear. Sensory overload has never felt so fucking euphoric to you. 

“Like that, yeah.” Hongjoong rasps out this time, pulling his head back in time with his hips. Almost emptying you entirely before pushing back in with that same languid drag of his hips. His eyes are on you now though, arms at either side of your head as he works up a lazy kind of rhythm. One that offers a deep thrust each time. 

           You can’t help the sounds that fall from your lips, and you can’t help that your pussy is throbbing around him, and certainly, you can’t help that the feeling of one of his hands moving to your chest before dipping his head down and sucking against it makes you moan out a bit louder. 

           With each moan, he almost mimics you with his own. He’s riding off of the pleasure he’s giving to you. Then again, he’s always been fond of pretty sounds. Music is his passion but hearing you make such delicate sounds for him makes his head spin in all sorts of directions. 

           His thrusts become more pointed after a few minutes, fucking into you at a pace that feels equally as deep but more powerful now. Your hands grip at anything you can get ahold of, meaning, you grip him. His arms, his back, and then finally you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down.

           His hips stutter at that before he grabs one of your legs and hikes it up and around his waist. This allows him to position himself slightly differently, fucking into you at an angle as his lips immediately fall to yours with a breathy laugh. 

           You can’t kiss him back this time though, with the new angle he’s driving into you causing his cock to bump repeatedly against a soft spot inside of you. Your mouth is left slack, releasing empty moans against his attempts to kiss you.

           He takes intense note of it, keeping up his pace and falling in love with the way you react to this angle. His hands find purchase above your head and he leans back to watch you as he fucks into you. 

“God,” He says slightly out of breath, dipping in briefly to kiss you on the forehead. “I’m going to come in about five seconds if you keep doing this.”

           Your eyes roll back slightly at his words and instantly you’re shoving your hand between the two of you to push yourself over the edge. He swats your hand away though, still fucking into you all while intertwining his fingers with yours and using his other hand to do the work for you. 

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” He says, rubbing his fingers in harsh circles around your sensitive clit. “Let me take care of you,” he adds in a huff, his hips becoming more frantic each time he feels your pussy tense around him. 

           Just like that, you’re releasing in waves with trembling legs. To the point that you throw your other leg around his waist and essentially push him into you with such force that he can’t even thrust anymore. You hold him there, riding out your high and struggling to comprehend the fact that this man isn’t always attached to you like this. 

           He lays there, his head forced into the crook of your neck as he feels you come around him, clenching him so tightly that he can’t really help it either. Your warm and wet pussy is absolutely soaking him and all he can do is let it. All he can do is feel it, to the point that he’s driven over the edge too. 

           Even when you release your death grip hug, he stays in place, nuzzling further against your neck with choked moans and tight presses of his hips. He’s trying to drive his cock deeper than it can go as he releases it, the feeling too good for him to think straight. You run your fingers through his hair as he does it, trailing your fingernails down to his neck and across his back. 

           You can feel the goosebumps on his skin under your fingers, and when his body finally goes limp on top of you, all you can do is continue that motion. Scratching, rubbing, soothing him through both of your post-orgasm brain fog. 

 ~

             Becoming Hongjoong’s girlfriend was something that should have been expected if you’re being honest. It should be a normal relationship, with normal arguments, and normal sex. Except it’s not. 

           The relationship is anything but normal but you’d like to say you prefer it this way. With the late night dates to empty parking lots just to be outside of your own spaces, the gas station runs where the two of you need to buy every snack known to man to satiate your munchies. The repeat tv shows playing on his television because you never quite catch what happened in episode six despite watching in four times. To be fair, episode six always comes on when you’re almost entirely wrapped up with your boyfriend. 

His hands are always stained with hair dye because he can’t be bothered to wear gloves, your hands are stained with hair dye too because you can’t not run your fingers through it when he’s between your legs. He’s always adding color to your life, be it literally or emotionally.

           There’s something strange about the way he balances you. In public with him, all attention is on his ripped clothes and shining piercings and a quirk of the brow always comes when they see you holding his hand. 

You kind of like the attention these days though. 

#hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong smut #ateez smut

[happysparklingshadows]

𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚠𝚜 + 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 (’96)

Warnings: Gore, Smut, and mature themes.

Notes: She is so fucking pretty it makes my body feel tingly and my brain goes into a monkey place 👉👈🥺

                           *.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Lottie is very affectionate and attentive to you because she didn’t/wasn’t able to get any from her parents. She kisses you often, claiming that she can’t help herself from stopping herself; she holds your hand whenever wherever, and she is a sucker for putting her hands on your chest to feel your heartbeat. To Lottie, it feels like a more profound connection is built by the sensation of feeling your heartbeat for only her. Before the crash, she was into buying and stealing items for you. If you wanted something, you got it. After the crash, Lottie likes making little crafts for her hair or protection charms.  

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

She is not scared once the Wilderness takes over. To Lottie, her killing isn’t really her but this primal need to protect and keep her beloved fed. However, Lottie isn’t pushed to kill out of jealousy or fear of their beloved leaving them. Lottie knows that they will always return to her, and she will ensure it happens. 

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

No. Lottie is charming when it comes to her beloved, so abducting is a little bit past her willingness as a yandere. Lottie will pressure and manipulate you to keep you with her, there is no question, but she would never have you against your will because she can’t stand the sight of you in distress or panic; to her, that is her job to protect you from feeling that. 

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Lottie forces you to do things without you realizing it. She is slightly overbearing and critical as a person; she looks at things she doesn’t like with a turned nose without shame. Sometimes when you wear something not to her liking, or if you talk to another person too emotionally, or say something she doesn’t like, she will look at you sharply. Over time you simply would adapt with her as your partner and slowly try to please her in fear of her judgment. You wear clothes you don’t really like, you will eat food that makes you sick, you will listen to music that bores you, etc. 

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

All of it. Lottie’s beloved before and especially after the crash is the only person Lottie talks to about her feelings because that was how she was raised with her emotionally distant parents. Lottie is open about her feelings outside of her mental illness or the dark episodes; she will never go into detail about them before the crash. Lottie can’t mask anything anymore without her medication in the wilderness, and she will become more intense with how she talks to you. 

“Where were you?” 

“I went out to go pee, Lottie. What-”

“You can’t just walk away at night. I don’t know what I would do if you died. I would die too.”

“Lottie, don’t talk that way!”

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Lottie would be an emotional wreck and wouldn’t be able to speak. She is very passionate and puts you on a pedestal of what it is to be loved by a person; because of her emotionally distanced family, and that you are the only one that has ever made her feel so cared for, she would be a mix of emotions with intense plans spinning in her mind. She would find a way to get you, spread a rumor about you, put you to the whole school if it meant you would stay, and stalk you if you genuinely left her. She’s not afraid of using her Social capital and wealth to get you back to where you belong, right beside her. 

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This isn’t a game. Lottie is deadly serious. She doesn’t like to think her affections or yours are a joke, and she takes the path of empathy every time there is an issue. She is a Dark Empath and will find a way to get you to feel the feelings she wants you to have. 

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Lottie is very aware of herself and her actions. Although she is under the influence of her mental illnesses, she always tries to be a good girlfriend. She thinks about it every waking moment about how she can be good or better for you. However, The worst thing that Lottie does is when she is stuck inside a delusion of some kind. As things get more tense and brutal, Lottie is convinced the others want to steal you away from her and that you are willing to leave her one of them, and she gets hysterical. 

“I’ll fucking rip their throats out! I will feed the wilderness every drop of their blood-”

“Lottie,” You frantically cup her cheek and try to get her to look into your eyes, her eyes wide with madness looking around the empty room. 

“No! You can’t leave me, (Y/n)!” Lottie sobbed violently; her hands curled at a bruising force on your sides as she forced you to press against her. She whispers to you, pathetically, “I’ll fucking everyone if I can’t have you. I will kill myself-”

You kiss her to get her to stop talking and stop her thoughts. You take ash on your finger and take her hand, “This isn’t real. You know that. I love you so much, Lottie, listen to me and the wilderness. Feel me.”  You whisper to her to calm her down. 

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Honestly, Lottie doesn’t think much about her future or yours. She is someone who lives in the moment and wants to be together. Lottie just wants to be together forever, and if you wanted to have a life together, then you guys would. She literally would do anything for you and would live any life if it was with you. She snuck around behind your back to find out which college you were going into, and she paid to get into it and to live in the same dorm as you, because she doesn’t want to be apart. 

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Oh, yeah, Lottie Matthews gets jealous. She is a quiet sulking type of jealous most of the time, but she can be confrontational when someone gets too close to you. She doesn’t want to scare you with how much she wants to do to them stabbing their chest until their heart is caved in and made into a bowl of blood to offer to the great mother Because you are her baby, and she is your protector and savior. No one can or will get in the way of that. 

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

They are very loving and attentive. She genuinely cares about her partner's feelings and wants. However, their lover will never truly see how Lottie twists and makes their feelings something more or less than they are. Dismissive and directing is how Lottie shows her darkness, but other than that, she guides and acts out the role of the loving spiritual lover. 

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Lottie is feminine and still a girl in the 1990s, so she will approach you subtly and through friendly teasing. This drew out the dating process for a while because you two became friends and flirted together. It would take you to make the first move for this girl to finally act out the way she wants with you. I see you kissing her for the first time, and Lottie would make it into a hardcore make out session. 

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from how they act around everyone else?

Honestly, she only has to mask as much as she usually does with her mental illness, and she believes she has these tendencies because of her condition. Lottie is lovely and caring, but she can be snarky and ruthless with her words at times. She hides the obsession and the need to have you by holding her tongue, but you will learn how much she wants to tell you over the years of being together. 

“Lottie, you’re sick!” You cry and hold a hand to your mouth, trying to keep in the sob as you look on with horror. Lottie stands over a girl with a knife, and her blood spills onto the witch’s cave in the tree stump she has grown fond of in the wilderness. 

“(Y/n)... You have no idea how far  I will go to serve you. You are precious to me.” Lottie says slowly and calmly, the antler hairdresser resting proudly on her brown curls. She moves towards you and crouches in your cowardly form. She grabs your cheeks in her hand. “I love you; I need to feed you. Let me prey for food for you… She needed to die as a sacrifice, she understood. 

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Lottie punishes for withdrawing her affection, attention, and money. She will stop spoiling you; you like getting gas money to drive her to school, lol, no more. You like getting little gifts or kisses throughout the day. No way, dude, she will walk right by you. She will ensure that you depend on her somehow to ensure you feel her lack in your life. You will do and say whatever you have to for her to come back. 

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

When Lottie isn’t punishing you or making a point to you, she doesn’t give you many rules. You are allowed to have your friends, have your own opinions, disagree with her, and don’t have to follow any restrictions outside of a normal relationship. Lottie doesn’t see herself as someone who can boss you around. She sees you as something bigger than herself and that you are this ethereal light in her life. Almost like you were an angel guiding her unworthy moral self through the dark world that is out for both of you, she will have to be the one that would get dirty for you, and you were her religion. 

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

She is extremely patient and kind to any emotion or reaction you have. She has this natural talent for being a listener and a healer; she doesn’t mind outbursts or violence if it comes to it. She is subtle and slow with how she gets her claws into you, so there isn’t much need to be patient in the ordinary Yandere sense. 

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

I don’t think you could leave Lottie because she would manipulate and condition you into believing you can’t live without her. Not in a terrifying way, as I told you before, but she will always find a way to get you to her. The only way to actually leave Lottie would be to die. 

Lottie would be a mess and unable to move after you die. I see her going nonverbal and slowly starving herself to death because the light has been sucked out of the world. Lottie won’t be able to move on or even live on past your death. She would be a ghost of her former self and go down a dark path with herself for a long time after your death. 

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about what they are doing to their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No, I don’t think Lottie has any regrets with you. She views her actions and plotting as something to keep the natural order in place as some kind of guardian of the wilderness. She doesn’t think what she does is wrong. She will never feel bad for how they act with their lover. 

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Childhood. When she was a little girl, Lottie had visions and premonitions; she had one that had never left her mind. She has an image of herself as an adult at a small farm with a bee colony around her, and she would have a wife that would come to her all pretty, like an angel. She remembers the rush of butterflies in her body as a little girl and how much hope and happiness filled her heart. She thought it was nice to know that someone would love her, and when she seen you, it was set in motion. 

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It feels like someone is ripping her heart apart and making her want to cry herself. She doesn’t know what to do when you isolate yourself, but she will try her best to be loving and understanding. She will keep her eyes on you like a hawk as your space. But crying or screaming and showing fear makes Lottie have this primal sorrow come out of her like she failed to protect you and have you safe from the world. 

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic Yandere?

There is something profoundly spiritual or religious in the way Lottie and you love each other. Lottie creates an environment where you two can worship and pray to each other for salvation in the darkness of your new realities. Lottie sees you as an archangel of what life is, and you symbolize something deeper that Lottie can’t even explain. She just knows she needs to have you and protect you from death. 

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit to escape?

 Lottie’s kindness. You can make her melt like butter if you just reflect her affection back on her. 

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No, I don’t think Lottie would intentionally hurt her lover outside of emotional distress. Lottie will scare you and make you scared for her, but she would never physically hurt you outside of bites in the heat of passion. 

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Lottie fucking WORSHIPS you. She would pray to you like an altar if she could, and she could probably make a move to do that to you once starvation starts to loosen your moral compass. 

You look down to see Lottie on her knees, her face pressed into your stomach as she nuzzled into the warm center of your body. She kisses the skin of your abdomen and looks up at you.

 “Are you full, baby?” 

“Yes, I’m full. Thank you so much, Lottie.” You say to her and kiss her; the acceptance of the dark and disturbing truth of the meat in your belly is inside was once a friend. 

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Lottie snapping is slow and happens simultaneously as her mind does in the wilderness. She has loved you for a long time, and you were being so kind to her mental illness and made her love for you grow like the hunger within her. She can’t get enough of your divine light or gentle love on her that she has been longing for all her life. 

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

I don’t think that Lottie would need to break her darling. Still, she just slowly degrades your self-reliance, and your dependence on her will grow over time that you wouldn’t even notice, honestly.  

Yandere Level 

5/10 (Very possessive but cute girlfriend, who could never do anything wrong, right?) 

Freedom Level

8/10 (You are very accessible; however, Lottie is very close behind you bc y’all are codependent.) 

Shauna  ✿ Natalie

#lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #yellowjackets x reader #Yellowjackets #Dark! Yellowjackets #wlw #yandere #dark!au

[sliceofcake-cupoftea]

How to tell Cobra

Character(s): Smokey (x reader), "Cobra" Junpei Hino

Plot Line: Even though you were twins, Cobra was born before you. This meant he would be your big brother; no matter what you or he could do about it. He took this to heart and protected you fiercely from everything. However, what happens what you end up in a situation and you have to tell your protective older brother something he rather not hear?

Warnings: Anxiety, Angst, Inappropriate comedy (18+), talks of terminal Illness, High & Low violence

How does one tell Cobra something. 

Even as his younger sister (though only by an hour, which you remind him of constantly) you ask yourself that often. For it is often that Cobra messes up and has to tell you something. Like the time Yamato and him broke your doll house or the time he accidentally lost all your history notes that he stole before a big exam. 

So whenever you messed up, it was hard to tell him. 

Usually there would be a right time or a moment you could bring it up. But, you didn’t think such a thing existed in this situation.

Put simply, you were pregnant. 

More precisely three months along now but you’ve known since you were two weeks in. The main problem was. You haven’t told anyone…

Not Naomi. Not Yamato. Not Noboru. And definitely–Definitely–not Cobra. 

The reason was simple. You were scared. Not just by their reaction when they find out you are pregnant. But by whom. 

Smokey.

Life worked in strange ways. Everyone would be shocked when they found out. How the hell did you two meet? They likely wouldn’t think you two had anything in common. Turns out it was the simple things. You both cared deeply about family and you both hated to be a burden to the ones you loved and adored. The two of you grew close over those two simple things. Extremely close on nights when one of you needed comfort. 

Was it love? Was it a close friendship? It was hard to determine.

It’ll be alright. We’ll figure it out.

You still remembered Smokey’s words when you told him. Always so calm and always so sweet; thinking of others before himself. Even as he tried to keep calm and collected, you could see by how his hands ever so slightly shook as he took yours that he was scared. Afraid. 

Smokey has never been in good health since you’ve known him. While you’ve helped him go to a doctor, they didn’t have much help to give. A lung transplant; that's the only thing that could stop his deteriorating health. All he could do was wait and maybe–if he was lucky–get a donation to pay for the surgery. But the chances were few and far between. So, he could only take some pills to keep himself stable and put his health on the back burner for now. 

Would he live long enough for the child to grow up? What would happen if you were left all alone? Even though he didn’t say it, you knew those were the questions that were clouding Smokey’s mind. 

It’ll be alright. We’ll figure it out.

You allowed him to hold you that night. Ignoring the worried calls from Cobra and the others when you didn’t return home. Only in the morning messaging a simple ‘I’m okay’ to them even though you weren’t. You and Smokey going your separate ways as the sun rose early in the morning. Him needing to return back to the Rude Boys and you needing to return back to Sannoh.

Life worked in strange ways. It really did.

It really fucking did.

“I can’t believe this,” You mumble, likely looking a little pale as you stare down at the stack of ultrasound photos. Each one of the Rude Boys wanting a photo of their precious niece/nephew so you had to ask for quite a few. Usually one would have their first ultrasound at 6 to 9 weeks but due to you working full time and bills needing to be paid, you had to wait until now; at 12 weeks. 

Technically you could have waited longer, Smokey and you were in no rush to get the ultrasound. An idea more on the backburner as the boys and him were more focused on trying to figure out if they could make furniture for the baby out of scrap wood from around nameless city. An idea you were highly against unless they sanded it and made sure none of the wood was compromised in any way. 

Surprisingly, they found such wood. And on the same day, when you woke up to a very big shock. 

“Lala,” Smokey’s sister whips her head around at her name being called. Looking quite confused as she sees you in the middle of Spring wearing a big puffy coat. It seemed your weird appearance didn’t just catch her attention either as P and Yu jumped down from their places in an area up above. Likely on patrol. 

“Is everything ok–” Not allowing her to answer, you dragged her to a tent nearby. Usually used for shops to set up, but it was far too early for them. Quickly, P follows after you two, signaling to Yu to go find Smokey. Knowing this is something he should know. “What’s wrong–”

Lala falls short of finishing her sentence as you take off your coat and show her what had you acting so strange. She couldn’t believe her eyes as she just saw you a day ago and it didn’t look like anything like this. 

“Woah…” P lets out, taking the words right out Lala’s mouth for her. The girl still very much in shock as she tried to wrap her head around it. “That’s… That’s normal right?”

“I– Sort of? I– I don’t know. They said it's common for it to just appear suddenly one morning when you wake up. But– I don’t think it's supposed to be–”

“Is everything–” 

You nearby jump in shock as Smokey and the rest of the Rude Boys barge into the tent. Expecting something horrible only to stare in shock just like P and Lala were seconds ago once they see you. The only one being somewhat calm about the situation being, of course, Smokey. Who after reading some books with you, knew this would be happening any day now. 

His eyes soften as he gazes upon it. Looking at you with love and wonder as he slowly makes his way to you. A soft grin spreading to his lips as he touches your stomach, lightly tracing the bump there with his calloused fingers. 

“Don’t– Don’t you think it's a bit big?” You finally ask after a few moments, telling Smokey the worry clouding your mind as you gazed upon your stomach, “I look eighteen weeks pregnant, not twelve.”

You were correct. While many in the tent knew nothing about pregnancies and had hardly ever seen a pregnant woman in her first trimester, they couldn’t help but agree that your bump was rather big. Which is likely what added to the huge shock as they saw you just over 24 hours before, no bump in sight. 

“Maybe you should go to that ultrasound?” Takeshi suggests, always the voice of reason amongst the boys especially whenever Smokey was absent. “If it has to do with your belly… the doctors should be able to notice it with that, right?”

Smokey and you looked at each other and you couldn’t help but agree that Takeshi made a fair point. 

“I can see if Dr.Sato has a free spot today? Will you be…” Your voice trails off when you notice a sad look grow on Smokey’s face. 

“Sorry…” He starts, letting out a heavy sigh, “Things between Daruma and us have been… tense. We are expecting Daruma to try to cause some chaos in the market later today. I really want to but–”

You grab Smokey’s hand, stopping the man from going into a rant, “It's okay. I understand.”

And you did. If being Cobra’s sister taught you anything, it is that sometimes the people you loved had to drop everything at a moment’s notice to protect what they believed in.

“Just keep me updated. I’ll let you know if I got the appointment and if nothing is going on, we can see if it's safe for me to come here after.”

Smokey nods his head. While disappointed he won’t be there, he is at least pleased he will be updated on what is going on.

Fuck.

As you finally turn your phone back on after shutting it down during your appointment, you couldn’t help but grow anxious at the slew of texts that came in; some dating back hours ago. While many were from Sannoh and your brother asking if you wanted to join them at the bar, some were from the Rude Boys. It seemed the situation with Daruma was solved and Smokey was wondering if–

“There you are,” You nearly jump in fright as a voice calls out in front of you. Instantly recognizing the blonde male in front of you.

“Takeshi? What the hell–” You start, thankful it wasn’t a different blonde. Especially as it would be hard to explain the building you were standing out in front of. Quickly you whip your head around before dragging the male into an alleyway nearby, “What are you doing here? This is Sannoh territory.”

It would be extremely hard to come up with an excuse as to why a Rude Boy was this far from their territory. Especially as the boys rarely left and you were in the north end of Sannoh, closer to Oya territory than theirs. 

“Smokey got worried. You didn’t answer his texts and it was getting dark,” Takeshi says, gesturing to the golden and red sky above you guys, “He sent me to pick you up.”

Moving his hand, he points to an old army jeep. One the Rude Boys often used along with their dirt bikes when they needed to get somewhere not in their territory fast. However, due to it being so old and so unique, it wouldn’t be hard for any of the Sannoh boys to instantly recognize the vehicle. Knowing an opposing gang was in their territory.

Oh god.

“Give me a second.” Takeshi says, suddenly seeming to remember something as he pulls out his phone. It rings for a moment before someone picks up on the other end.

“Hello?” Instantly recognizing the voice on the other end, you visibly relax. 

“Hey, Smokey. I’ve got her right here. She just came out of her appointment.” 

“Did everything go well?” Smokey asks as you take the phone from Takeshi. Already feeling much better as you could hear his voice on the other end. He has always had that calming effect on you, “Nothing wrong?”

Letting out another sigh, you hear shuffling on the other end of the phone. Likely the others joining Smokey to hear the results of your appointment.

“Everything went well. Nothing wrong at all. Just…” You let out a particularly heavy sigh, knowing you had no choice but to explain it to them as just ignoring the obvious would make them more concerned, “...I’m feeding for four.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

Takeshi–the only one you can visibly see–jaw drops in shock as he processes what you just said. Even though you shouldn’t, you can’t help but laugh a little. Finally giving the male the stack of photos after a few moments so he can finally come to terms on what you said. 

Staring down at the photo, even though it wasn’t his, Takeshi can’t help but feel tears pluck in the corner of his eyes as he sees his nieces/nephews. Each labeled with a number 1 through 3 so it was each to identify each one.

“Tr–Triplets…” Takeshi starts, his voice slightly shaking as he speaks, “She’s having triplets, Smokey.”

A little concerned by the sudden silence at the other end, you call out as well, “Smokey?”

Your eyes can’t help but widen in shock as you hear an ever so slight sniffle on the other end. 

“Y–Yeah?”

Takeshi seems quite taken aback as well as he hears the others telling Smokey it was okay as they laughed and patted their leader on the back. Though the two of you quickly can’t help but allow a wide grin to take on your faces as you hear Smokey’s chuckle as well; Sounding slightly watered down from his tears and stuffy nose as he was still a bit emotional. Realizing it was a good cry, not a bad one.

“We’ll be there soon, Smokey.” Looking up at Takeshi, who grabs the keys from his pockets, you quickly follow him out of the alleyway as you continue to talk on the phone, “Don’t go crying anymore. I still have yet to show you the photos. I practically started sobb–”

Quickly, as you glance to your right, you can’t help but freeze in your steps. The smile wiping clean off your face when your eyes lock with another. 

Oh, no. 

No. no. no. no. no.

“Shit,” Takeshi curses once he sees them as well, “Smokey, fuck. We’ve been seen.”

However, even though you know Smokey and the others are saying something on the other end, you can only continue to stare at your brother; the rest of the world blocked out just from the pure shock running through your body. Cobra eyes are wide and confused as he sees you. The rest of the gang confused as well as they pause in getting off their bikes. Clearly having showed up after hearing the Rude Boys jeep was spotted in Sannoh.

It is only as Takeshi shakes your shoulder that you finally snap your gaze away from Cobra, “We have to go. Now.”

But–

Not allowing you a second to respond, likely thinking you were still in shock, Takeshi grabs you by the wrist and starts dragging you to the car. Hoping that since the boys are far enough down the street, that he could beat them to his car.

“Hey. Hey!” The roaring sound of blood pumping through your veins echoes in your head as your brother finally snaps out of his trance. His voice muffled in your ears even though he is probably yelling. As you shakily take a seat in the passenger seat, you can’t help but jump in surprise as you feel a hand suddenly grab onto the jacket on your shoulder.

“What are you doing? Why the hell are you with—?” Yamato asks as you stare up at him with wide eyes. However, it is as he pulls at your jacket, that he sees your stomach. Stopping him dead in his tracks as he takes in the sight, “Why are you pregnant? What the fuck did those bastar–”

You gasp in shock as Takeshi suddenly kicks Yamato, getting the man to fall onto the sidewalk, as the vehicle finally starts. You can’t help but snap your head around as your brother begins to call your name, still racing after the vehicle. Only stopping once the vehicle finally picks up speed, causing him to stop and stare. 

To stare back at you with so many questions and concerns in his eyes.

“I—“ You start, turning back around to face the front. Just in pure shock at what just happened, “I— I should have told him. Oh my god… I’m such an idiot.”

“Stop it.” Takeshi yells over the wind as he drives, reaching a hand over to grab onto one of your shaking ones. “You did what you thought best. You weren’t sure how Cobra would react to finding out about Smokey. It could have caused a bigger mess than this for all you know.”

“But— My brother will be chasing after us, you know?” You start, looking in the rear view mirror as if waiting for the motorcycles of the Sannoh Hoodlum Squad to whip around the corner, “He’ll— He’ll come to nameless city and—“

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Takeshi says, grabbing hold of your shoulders and hugging you as the vehicle reaches a stop light. “Everything will be okay. This can’t blow up anymore than it is.”

“B-But—“

“Breathe. Please just breathe.” Takeshi says, running a hand down your back to soothe your shaking figure, “We’ll be home soon. Everything will be okay.”

As the stop light changes and he is forced to pull away, you are finally quiet. While still shaking, you lean into Takeshi’s side for comfort. Clutching his hand tightly as he continues to drive back to the Rude Boys territory. Unable to stop yourself from jumping whenever you heard to loud sound of a motorcycle engine off in the distance

“Smoke—“ As soon as Takeshi slams on the brakes, putting the car in park. The rest of the Rude Boys descend. Instantly Smokey clutches onto you and helps you out of the car, not wanting to let you go.

His eyes trail your body, looking for any signs that you were hurt in any way. 

“What in the hell happened out there?” 

“Sannoh recognized–” As Takeshi leaps out and begins to explain, you allow Smokey to pick you up–something you usually wouldn’t allow–as he and the group begin to walk. Knowing better than to argue with the leader when he was like this, though you also didn’t have the strength to. Secretly you are glad Smokey’s large puffy jacket muffled your ears from the talking of the boys around you. Allowing you to focus on his steady heartbeat; giving you a chance to tune out of the world. 

Though only for a couple of moments, only a couple moments of peace, before Smokey calls your name. Lifting your head, you glance up at Smokey, who looks down at you. Concern and apologies swirling in his dark eyes.

“We need to hide you.” Smokey whispers, seeming to not like the conclusion he has determined but knowing it was the best and safest option for you. 

“What…?” You start, caught off guard as the boys begin to jog, knowing where to head as they likely have limited time. You, still in his grasp, whip your head around to determine where you guys are going. However, night had fallen and it was too dark to know your surroundings. The only light being the moon that shined through the clouds, “Smokey, wait. You– You can’t do that. The boys– My brother is going to misunderstand.” 

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry.” Smokey says, lifting you up and handing you to P on a platform attached to a crane. Reminding you of the ones that are used in the mines. As the boys all jump on, Yu hitting the lever before jumping on as well, the platform begins to move upwards. Finally allowing you down to your feet, Smokey brings you into his arms. Hiding his face in your hair as he attempts to control his shaky breathing, “I’m sorry. I just… can’t risk how they will react. Yamato has already seen your stomach and they likely have already begun to draw their own conclusions.”

“But…” However, your voice quickly trails off as you think. Smokey had a point. While you know your brother and his friends would never hurt you. Never. You could very easily get caught in the crossfire if things heated up too quickly between the groups. The gangs in SWORD were always on the brink of war with one another. Even the slightest of comments or looks could break the peace in seconds.

“I’m sorry.” Smokey repeats, lifting his head to press a kiss to your forehead. One that causes your eyes to flutter shut as you lean into his gentle and caring gesture. As he pulls away, you can see a slight glint in his eyes. One you can’t determine as the lift final comes to a stop. As you look around, you gain an understanding of where you are. All of you are in some sort of watch tower office. One that clearly belongs to the Rude Boys as you look around: maps, notes and their items strewn about the place. 

As you watch P pull out a batch of wires inside the panel of the lift, clearly cutting the power so it can’t be accessed from below, Smokey takes you in another room. While you guessed it was originally meant to be a small office meant for a manager, the Rude Boys had clearly turned it into a resting room of some sort. Torn pillows, blankets, and even an old twin mattress on the floor in the corner. Likely this room was used by the boys when they took turns watching from the tower on patrols. 

As Smokey shuts the door and calls your name, you turn your attention away from your surroundings and back to him. 

“Promise me.” He starts, bringing up a hand to cup your face. Swiping a thumb across your cheek as he looks you in the eyes, “Promise me that no matter what happens that you won’t run out into the mess of this.”

While you didn’t want to agree. Especially as you considered what could possibly happen and how many could get hurt. A thing that made you nauseous as you realized it was all caused by you. You knew you had to agree. If you left Smokey and the others worried, who knew what could happen to them. 

You knew the best option would be to allow Smokey to have a clear mind. One that could keep him calm and hopefully talk to your brother instead of having an all out brawl commence, “I promise…” 

Your words are quickly cut off as Smokey captures his lips in yours. It is passionate and heated compared to the usual pecks he gives you. One that takes your breath away and leaves you dizzy. 

And as Smokey pulls away, you see the glint return back in his eyes. You once again didn’t understand it, that is until Smokey pulls you once again into another hug. Kissing your hair as he sighs, once more trying to calm himself. 

It is as he does so, his body pressed up against yours more so than usual as he rests his chin on your head, that you feel it. 

“I…” You start, unable to help yourself from letting out a laugh. Instantly trying to muffle it in the fur of his jacket as you feel it pressed up against your hip, “Do you have…?”

“...Sorry.”

“Why do you…” You can’t help but let out another laugh at how Smokey shifts slightly away so you can no longer feel it. Always a gentleman. “Why do you have a boner, Smokey?”

“I–” As he pulled away to look at you, you could tell he felt embarrassed and quickly stopped laughing. His eyes looking more so to the wall than you, “It’s because… some guy is trying to take you away.”

“But… it's my brother.”

“I know.” His eyes snapping back to yours so you don’t misunderstand what he is trying to say, “It's because he has the power to stop me from seeing you. Permanently. That’s what it is, not who he is.”

“So… you are basically saying that you…,” You start, heat slightly spreading up your face at what you are about to say, “You are possessive over me and are trying to… stake your claim.”

Instantly, Smokey’s ears turn red and you can tell he just wants to bury his head back in your shoulder in embarrassment.

“It’s okay, Smokey,” You say, reassuring the man as you come up and press a kiss to his lips. One he instantly melts into, “It’s pretty… attractive. Just not the right place or time.”

“Sorr–”

“Don’t apologize. We can… explore this later.” You say, cutting off another apology from him. While he wasn’t as prideful like your brother or the other sword leaders, he was apologizing a lot today. Even for him, “I just don’t want the boys or… my brother to walk in on us.”

Just as an uncomfortable shiver trails up your spine at the thought, you see Smokey freeze. Definitely horrified at the thought as well. 

“Another day it is,” He agrees, making you laugh a little. The sound bringing a small grin to his lips. Though not for long as a knock on the door breaks the happy atmosphere. 

“Smokey,” Takeshi says, pausing for a moment as he seems to determine his next words, “Cobra and the rest of Sannoh is here.” 

“Okay. I’ll be out in a moment,” The leader replies, before looking back at you. A concerned look once again returning to his face, “Please. Stay here.”

“...I will…” 

Giving you one last look as he opens the door, Smokey seems to take you in–almost as if he was thinking this might be the last time he would see you–before shutting it close. A soft click followed by what sounds like shuffling. It takes you a moment to realize the boys were pushing heavy boxes in front of the door in order to hide the room. 

As silence overtakes the room, you find yourself all alone. With the only light in the room being from a window covered in newspaper clipping, you can’t do much other than sit so as not to trip or fall. You can’t even pace to ease your worries. 

With a heavy sigh, you grab an old tattered quilt on the floor and sit in the corner on the old mattress. Wrapping yourself in the blanket as the cold spring night wind whips around outside. It was a long time spent in silence and your own thoughts. You couldn’t even look at your phone or the ultrasound photo of the triplets; both still in Takeshi’s possession. Sitting, waiting and thinking; that's all you could do. 

You even thought about sleeping, but you knew you couldn–

You let out a loud yelp as a crash resounds throughout the room. The glass of the window shattering and it takes you a moment to realize it was P. Covered in bruises and cuts as he attempts to get to his feet in the middle of the room, you realize someone had thrown him through it.

“Are you ok–” 

“Stay back!” P yells, stopping you from coming to him as you get to your feet. You are confused until you hear someone else jumping through the window as well. However, it's not who you expect. 

“So this is where you have been keeping her,” Koo says as he adjusts his white suit, slightly brushing something off his shoulder. Rocky’s assistant glances your way as you stare at him in shock; seeming to check over your figure. His eyes stopping on your stomach before his jaw clenches, “A bunch of heathens that's what you guys are. How many times did you take turns abusing and manipulating this woman?”

“Wait–” However you can’t even get a word in before you are suddenly lifted up, letting out a scream as someone begins to take you through the window.

“Let her–” P dodges as Koo attempts to hit him with his staff. The older man fully intending on blocking the Rude Boy from grabbing you as you are continued to be taken through. 

As you glance back, you see Shimura. The blonde male, with both of his eyes covered in those strange leather goggles of his, grins at you, “Got you!”

Of course, the White Rascals are here.  

Protector of Women. They would instantly jump in if one was in danger. You were just surprised your brother asked the group for help. At least you think he did. 

Did that mean the Rude Boys were outnumbered? Were any of the other SWORD groups here as well? You had too many questions and worries bouncing through your mind. Way too overwhelmed for what was good for you.

“Okay, now we are– Hey! Wait!” As soon as Shimura puts you down on the platform so you can stand, you instantly end up bolting. As to where you would go, you didn’t know. You knew you couldn’t go back in the office as that would be a dead end and Koo was still in there. Stuck on the highest point of the tower, you technically could only go one way. Down.

“Oi! That's dangerous!”

The white rascal chases after you, only to freeze in his steps as he watches you go over the railing and walk across a supported metal beam. Thank goodness the boys got bored one day and taught you some of their tricks. While you couldn’t do any of their crazy flips or spins, you could at least keep your balance and slide down on some things.

Grabbing hold of the fabric at the end of the beam that fell all the way to a platform a few floors below, you take a deep breath and step off the edge. An action that makes Shimura gasp and begin to yell at you to knock it off as you dangle on the material; drawing the attention of some of the others nearby. 

“Oi– Hey!” You nearly jump in fright as something grabs onto the fabric as well, however you breathe a sigh of relief when you just realize it is just P. The young man a bit more bruised than a couple moments ago when you saw him but he seemed to escape Koo’s grasp without an issue. 

“Be careful,” P says as places one of his arms around your waist, just in case you slipped so he could grab you, “Let's try to get you away from this mess.”

“Okay.”

With a deep breath, you and P begin to slide down the fabric. A bit slower than what the Rude Boys would normally do, but thankfully you got to the bottom without any issues. 

“The bikes–Shit.” Just as P goes to look at something, he instantly stops in his tracks. As you look to your right, you see both Rocky and your brother making their way to you. Simply stated, Cobra looked pissed. 

“Hino, wait–” You start only to stop once something jumps down in front of you. Taking you by surprise, it takes a moment to realize it was Smokey. While you normally would be more than glad to see the young man, it wasn’t right now. Your heart stopping when you see the crimson liquid dripping from his lips, knowing it was from his lungs, “Stop. Stop! Everyone just stop!”

As you clutch onto Smokey, screaming at everyone, Cobra and Rocky pause in their steps. Well maybe not Cobra if it weren’t for Rocky sticking out a hand to stop him. 

“Are you okay?” You ask as Smokey gets to his feet, a little shaky as he wipes his lips. The man nods his head but makes no effort to move, instead bringing you close so you are behind him. P behind both of you so as to watch your backs.

“Stay… Stay behind,” Smokey chokes out, grabbing your hand and running his thumb over it. As he looks back at you, unable to help yourself–mostly out of worry–you take the sleeve of your jacket and rub away the crimson liquid falling from the man’s lips. An action that has you wincing as Smokey ends up accidentally having a coughing fit into the fabric; Spiting up more blood in the process but you don’t bring your hand away. Too worried about him than anything else. 

“Smokey, you bastard!” Cobra suddenly yells, catching you off guard as you look to see your brother practically fuming as he glares down the male. If looks could kill, right? “I thought of you better than this. You have a sister but you– you still allow your group to manipulate and rape–”

“Hold up! Wait!” You shout, cutting off the extreme conclusion your brother came to. Not even wanting him to finish that sentence. Taking a deep breath you finally decide it was time to address the obvious. No more running away in fear or allowing Smokey to protect you.

“Hino, they never did any of that. I– Smokey and I…” You take your gaze away from your brother to look at Smokey. The haggard man slightly panting in order to breathe but smiles gently as you Interlock your fingers with his. Giving you a reassuring squeeze, “Smokey and I are together.”

“What?”

“Well sort of together,” You say, mumbling slightly; not noticing the tone your brother used, “We became close friends and… things sort of happened… and then I got pregnant. I–”

“You–” Something suddenly smashes nearby, making you jump slightly and cut off your words. Instantly Smokey pushes you further behind him and it takes you a moment to realize it was caused by Cobra. Your brother having kicked something nearby to him in a heat of rage, “You can’t be serious. This– This has to be some sort of lie. He must be manipulating–”

“It’s not!” You yell back, your emotions finally coming crashing down on you, “I just– I just…”

You let out a heavy sigh as you cross your arms, slightly gnawing at your lip as you begin to feel anxious. Especially knowing you had to explain your decision, “I was just scared to tell you, Hino.”

Your brother seems to pause for a moment. His gaze slightly growing less sharp and cold upon hearing your words, “Scared to tell me…?”

“I…” You gulp, feeling tears begin to prick the corner of your eyes. Damn it, “I–I knew I messed up. I don’t regret anything with Smokey but I knew that because he was from another group that it could cause problems. I wanted to tell you but– but– I was scared if it would cause a fight or– or– if it would disappoint you– or–”

You sniff a little, wiping your eyes as tears rolled down your cheek. It's silent from Cobra’s end and you can’t bring yourself to look up at your older brother. Though through blurry vision trained to the ground you see Smokey turn around. Guessing he was looking at you as he began to rub comforting circles in your hand. Unable to help yourself–the simple act reducing you to sobs–you can’t help but throw yourself in the male’s arms; hiding your head in the man’s jacket as you cry.

However as you cry in Smokey’s jacket, trying to calm the aching and horrible feeling in your heart, it isn’t long before a hand grasps your arm and you are pulled into another’s hold. The other person’s arms instantly wrapping around your body tightly as they place their chin on your shoulder. Smelling the cologne and laundry detergent you knew your brother used made you sob even harder when you realized it was him who was holding you.

“I–I’m–m so sorry– Sorry, Hino–” You sob out, your voice breaking and cracking as you attempt to pull yourself together. Especially as your brother hushes you and draws shapes on your shoulder with his hand to get you to calm down. Something he has done ever since you two were kids.

“Idiot… What are you apologizing for?” Cobra says, pulling his head back up so you can see each other. With a small frown on his face, he brings up a thumb and wipes the tear stains from your cheeks, “I’m not angry or disappointed in you. Sure, you and Smokey…”

He takes the chance to send the male a glare from over your shoulder. One you probably would guess, Smokey gave right back; knowing him.

“...I’m not too happy about it but it's at least better than Murayama or… Hyuga. I would definitely kill them if that ever happened.” You can’t help but let out a small choked laugh at your brother’s comment. Especially as he grumbles about the last part, “But, if anything, I’m just upset and worried you felt like you couldn’t tell anyone this.”

“Technically, all of nameless city knew–”

“Doesn’t count.” Your brother sternly says, cutting P off, “You couldn’t have even told Naomi?”

“You know she would instantly tell Yamato or you.”

Your brother huffs but understands that you were very much correct in your assumption. While she kept some secrets from the boys, you knew she would definitely tell the boys about it the moment she found out about anything between you and Smokey. Entirely for your safety of course.

“So…” Your brother starts after a sigh, seeming awkward but you could tell he wanted to ask something, “How long have you and Smokey been a… thing?”

“Well…” You turn to Smokey who seems to freeze at the subject. Knowing this could quickly set Cobra off as well, “We aren’t really together. We sort of…”

“…are messing around?”

“No, no,” You say, quickly reassuring your brother as he attempts to go around you. Likely to give Smokey a piece of his mind if he thought of you as a ‘fun time’, “It wasn’t physical. Definitely not at first. We would just… rely on the other to share our deepest secrets and to seek reassurance when we weren’t okay. It isn't until later that the other stuff just… happened.” 

Grumbling under his breath, your brother seems still quite unhappy about the whole situation but honestly–-truly honest–his reaction could have been a lot worse. Especially knowing him and all the scenarios you conjured up in your head. 

It is only as heavy boots approach you, that you forgot about one crucial thing. A thing that makes your blood run cold once more.

“Sor–Sorry, Rocky,” You murmur sheepishly, glancing at the Rascals leader as he approaches. While he outwardly didn’t look pissed, some of the White Rascals men were definitely beaten up. A clear indicator in the bruises and cuts on Kaito, Kizzy and Koo’s faces as they walk up behind their leader, “Sorry you got dragged into this mess–”

However, the White Rascals leader raises his hand, signaling you to stop in your rant. A small smile gracing his lips, that quickly disappears as you blink. Reaching into his pocket, the man pulls out a business card and gives it to you.

“If shit hits the fan again and you need help,” He starts, pulling down his sunglasses he gives you a knowing wink, “Don’t hesitate to call.”

“Hey.” Your brother warns as the White Rascal leader walks away. But, the Rascals don’t listen and just ignore your brother; instead cheering and exhaustingly leaving as they eaves you goodbye. The only one seeming to still pay attention to your group was Kizzy. The young woman holding up a small picture–almost making you choke on your spit as you instantly identify it–and sending you a knowing smile.

“You better stop by at the club,” Kizzy yells as Kaito wraps an arm around her shoulder, beginning to lead her away, “I want to see more of these cuties.”

“Hey!” Yu yells as he leaps down next to you guys. However the Rascals are already walking down the metal steps; no longer in hearing distance, “That’s ours!”

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” You reassure, stopping the younger male from chasing after them. Clearly pouting at the fact they stole something they were waiting for, “I got plenty of extra copies.”

“Extra copies…?” Cobra asks as Yu yells upwards at Takeshi. Asking him to come down so as to get his copy. Once more you freeze as you realize your brother has no idea about the appointment today… nor the results.

“Well…” You start as Takeshi joins you guys. A nervous sweat breaking out as you see the rest of Sannoh and Rude Boys coming out from the structure as well, coming to likely see what the ruckus is about, “...twin genes, am I right?”

As Takeshi holds out a picture to Cobra, you back up and return to Smokey’s side. Allowing Sannoh and your brother to process what exactly they were seeing. Hoping their reaction wouldn’t be too bad as you left them alone with the other Rude Boys.

“You okay?” You ask Smokey, cupping the male’s face. His stern eyes easing as you approach; seeming to melt into your touch as he wraps a hand around your waist. Always liking you close by within arms length.

Instead of responding, Smokey leans in and takes your lips with his. While you flinch a little at the sticky feeling, reminding you he was just coughing up blood a few moments ago, you eventually relax and return the loving kiss. Humming as Smokey takes his other calloused hand and gently cups the back of your neck. Playing with the baby hairs located there that causes shivers to shoot up your spine.

As Smokey pulls away, a loving gaze on his face. You can’t help but grin uncontrollably back at him. An action he seems to like as he wraps you in his arms and presses kisses to your face. A smile beginning to grow on his—

“Smokey… I think we should have a talk.”

Uh oh.

You forgot about Cobra standing right there. 

#high and low x reader #high and low fic #high&low #high and low #high and low smoky #high and low smokey #high and low smokey x reader #high&low the story of sword #high&low x reader #high and low cobra #high&low cobra #junpei hino

[1-800-cr33py]

Evan and Habit hcs for a reader with Generalized Anxiety Disorder? Conflict, sudden or loud noises, the feeling of being watched, large crowds, or a bunch of energy in one room, all of that is ✨bad✨

I hope you’re having an awesome night :] (side question do you write for Jeff from EMH?)

I would love to start writing for Jeff! Sadly, no one has requested him yet! Also I love this request because I was diagnosed with GAD a few years ago!

Onto the headcanons! Tw for mentions of mental illness,breakdowns, the nasty side of mental illness, Habit

Evan

Evan knows how loud he and his friends can be, so when you explain to him that sudden, loud noises and large groups aren’t something for you, he doesn’t take it to heart when you don’t hang around the group much; but he appreciates the days you do.

He understands the feelings of being watched, he’s experienced it since he was young, so Evan will happily check the house and any dark spaces for you; he also does it for himself, weird shit has been happening and he just wants everything to be safe for you.

Evan’s had a meltdown many times in his years, he knows to leave you alone when you need him to just be there when he needs to. He’ll talk to you through the door if you need him, or he’ll just sit in the farthest corner of the room silently if you need him. It’s things like that, that can reassure someone.

He doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed or less than when you can’t handle public situations, whether it be because you’re sensitive to high energy or people just make your mind feel like static, he’ll understand! Evan will gladly take movie dates in his house over some overcrowded and loud movie theater anyday!

Evan will order take out, or whatever you both are in the mood for, dust off some old gaming console or board game and call it a date.

1000/10, manifesting a man like this in my life

HABIT

Habit is a slimy fuck, but he’ll understand. I feel like you not leaving the house often is a blessing due to his line of ‘work’. It keeps you ignorant and safe.

Habit can be loud, so if you need a break, please by all means take one.

I feel like Habit prefers you in the house, for one he can keep track of you, two, its safer. You don’t have to get in between him and his objectives! Win-win in his opinion.

Both Evan and Habit like to spoil you rotten, weighted blankets, teas, candles, anything that they think will soothe your nerves.

Habit purrs, and he likes to pull you to his chest when he does, to him it’s his way of soothing you and calming your nerves. It’s a demon- Eldridge entity thing.

He means well, but he can be insensitive, teasing you, poking fun.

Habit likes your at home dates. He doesn’t like mortals. (Worth you being one of the few exceptions), so having you curl into his side and cackle at some stupid cheerleader running from Jason is his go to.

Habit will check the house if you feel like you’re being watch, begrudgingly. He’ll be over the top, knife in hand, borderline shouting at ‘What ever the FUCK is in his house, needs to get the fuck out” It’s endearing, in a bloodthirsty kind of way.

7/10, could be better but hes….him

#emh x reader #habit everymanhybrid #habit x reader #evan jennings x reader #emh evan #emh evan x reader #slenderverse x reader #emh headcanons #habit headcanons #1800cr33py #requests are open #anon request #anon answered

[dreamersparacosm]

austin butler - kissing in the bathroom

warnings ; intoxication, oral (f receiving)

request ; anonymous’ ask linked here

prompt ; in which austin takes it upon himself (with a bit of liquid courage) to help relieve your urges.

a/n ; there is clearly something wrong w me bc i got this request and literally wrote it in under 12 hours. it’s all over the place but that’s my life these days so please enjoy also this takes place during dune 2 filming and i used the cast so some things may be inaccurate but whatever

les - childish gambino

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

realistically, you’re not an irrational person. you like to think that you make decisions based off of facts, and that your brain is wired in a way where you don’t normally partake in things that are considerably risky. however, later, when you let austin butler go down on you in the bathroom at a crowded club in budapest, the pads of his fingers leaving bruises on your hips, dress hiked up to your belly button, you’ll start to question if you’re actually mentally stable.

realistically, you probably should’ve just seen a therapist for all your troubles instead.

“okay, wait, so run me through why you won’t go out tonight again,” florence pugh pesters you for the thirtieth time that day, puppy-dog eyes filled with hope piercing through you. somehow, when you look at her, you feel no guilt whatsoever.

you sigh, rolling your eyes, “dude, i’m not going to a club. i’m literally 25, i’m past that point of my life —“

“i’m 26.”

“and, you’re mentally ill. see, this is why i don’t hang out with you on set more often,” you tease, taking a bite out of the cookie you had snatched earlier from the snack cart. it tastes like cardboard, but you had no choice but to swallow it, seeing as your other options were the moldy sandwich from the shop nearby or day-old coffee from the cart. combined with your recent sleeping habits, you might as well have chosen death.

“no, you don’t hang out with me because you’re too busy being a director’s pet,” she sticks her tongue out at you, taking a bite out of the lunch she had packed herself earlier that morning. you two are cozily perched in director’s chairs you had stolen from set, hiding from the bustling commotion that is your reality. you had signed on to film dune 2 earlier that year, and although you thought you would be able to handle the adrenaline and stress that came along with filming an action movie, to be quite honest, you were utterly and entirely exhausted. every waking moment was spent running over lines with co-stars, and if not that, you were going through stunts with the coordinators.

your limbs ached and your eyes were bloodshot, but despite all that, you couldn’t imagine doing anything else. so, you did take advantage of that cookie that tasted like cardboard, because who cares? you love your job, isn’t that enough? fuck the sleep, fuck the mental health! your body is begging, screaming, for a break, but instead, you fuel it with red bulls and cardboard cookies and bandage it up to make good as new. so, you resolve to tell florence that that’s really why you’re not going to the club tonight.

but, because she’s florence, and she can’t keep her mouth shut for a second, she keeps going. “what’ll it take to convince you?”

“literally nothing,” you smile sarcastically, crumbs littering your shirt as you take another bite.

“nothing?” she questions exasperatedly, something between a groan and a sigh exiting her lips. “what if i told you everyone was going?”

you blink twice at her attempt to coerce you into spending time with your co-stars. sure, they were great people, but your bed was calling your name “you… really think that would make me want to go?”

“nah. it was worth a shot, though.”

you laugh at the relinquishment of her efforts, “but, i do want to know what happens tonight when everyone gets drunk.”

“oh, please,” she snorts. “nothing’s gonna happen. zendaya is so far up tom’s ass, we’re gonna see her text him all night.”

you chuckle at the truth of the statement, but a twinge of jealousy still makes its way through you. you hadn’t been in a serious relationship since your last one — the 6-foot-something athlete you dated, needs no name — and it ended so horrifically that you swore off men for the rest of your life. sure, you had frivolous flings with hollywood men, but nothing of importance enough to break down the wall that you guarded yourself with. “god, must be nice,” you mutter, playing with the hem of your shirt.

florence’s eyes light up, as if a lightbulb was powered on above her head. “okay.. hear me out. what if, we go out tonight and get you laid?”

the word sounds ridiculous rolling off her tongue, something you hadn’t thought about in months. you were comfortable with two people; your right hand, and your left hand. those were the only things you needed to get off and have a great time on your own. but, seeing the look on her face, you know she won’t take that for an answer. “in budapest?”

“tell me i’m wrong! a nice european man with an accent,” she’s now leaning forward in her chair, eyes sparkling as she goes on, “and he’ll buy your drinks all night. i mean, we were planning on getting a table tonight but at least this way, you can get drunk off whatever he buys you.”

“we haven’t even found a man yet, and you’re talking about him like he’s my boyfriend.”

“i have high hopes!” she exclaims, hands clasped together in delight, “you’re literally gorgeous, [y/n]. i’m sure that won’t be an issue.”

“i don’t want a random guy, though. it feels slimy,” you grimace. it really does sound unappealing to you, the thought of having to speak to someone for several hours before finally getting drunk enough to succumb to the animalistic urges you’ll inevitably feel.

“okay…fair. but, what if it’s not a random guy?” she raises an eyebrow, and you stare at her quizzically. surely, she can’t be headed with this where you think she’s going with this. “what about… someone we know?”

“no.”

it’s firm and it slips off your tongue before you even have a chance to let her finish. god forbid you let her even say the words, or you’ll wring her neck.

“but —“

“literally, no. like, who even would i possibly get with?”

“timothee?” the name almost makes you giggle, but you could only smile as to not embarrass him (even if he’s not present).

“definitely not him. he’s not my type,” you shake your head in disgust.

she taps her finger against her chin, pretending to look lost in thought, “okay, how about the cameraman everyone says is hot?”

“easy steve? are you kidding, flo? that’s your choice for me?” you cross your arms over your chest, staring at her in disdain. she couldn’t possibly be talking about the 20-something year old who had hooked up with half of the crew already.

“yeah… i felt bad even saying it. he’s definitely got something by now,” she goes back to her train of thought, list of men dwindling by the second as she realizes you two really don’t work with as many hot men as you think you do. but, just as she’s about to rest her case and close the conversation, she has an epiphany. “wait, what about austin?”

austin butler was what everyone referred to as an overachiever. not on purpose — no, he was too humble for that — but because he worked so hard to perfect his craft. you had to commend him for it, because you were willing to give it the old heave-ho and just let things be as is. he was a bit of a superstar on and off set, riding on the coattails of his newfound success from elvis, the movie he had filmed that had been released just a few months back. you were lying if you said you hadn’t seen the movie and nearly creamed yourself twice at his performance.

he was attractive — you could at least give him that — but he almost seemed too pretty to be real. despite all that, you weren’t even sure if you two had a full conversation before. the most you had gotten out of him was hey, how are you today? and they’re ready for you on set. you weren’t sure if he was scared of you, or just genuinely found no interest in getting to know you; regardless, it didn’t bother you. he seemed to fade into the background every time you came around, and you had already accepted that that was your working relationship with him.

“eh, too pretty for me.”

“really?” florence seems shocked by your statement. “you did see elvis, right..?”

“yeah, who didn’t?” you shrug, “i don’t know, i feel like he’s just there.”

she chortles at your statement, “what? he’s so cool, he makes the funniest jokes.”

okay, now you’re slightly offended. you could accept that maybe he was just a shy person all around, but if he was talking to everyone except you — including putting up with florence’s constant chatter — there had to be something severely wrong with you. “well, he’s never told me any jokes.”

a sneaky grin makes its way onto her face, and you can almost see the wheels turning in her little pea brain. “what, you jealous?”

“shut it. he just literally does not speak to me,” you don’t give in to her antics. “like, he’ll see me come across the way and then he’ll go mute. i’m fine with that, honestly.”

“fine, fine,” she raises her hands in defeat. “but, i still think you need to get laid. it’ll solve all your problems. and, plus, i’m offering to buy you a bottle of vodka for you to drink all by yourself.”

she knows she’s making offers to you that you can’t refuse.

“whatever,” you stand up from the chair, “i’m not going.”

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

maybe it’s the sleep exhaustion making you delusional, maybe it’s the two tequila shots you took by yourself in your hotel room, or, maybe it’s the conversation you had with florence earlier, but, somehow, you find yourself sandwiched in between your co-stars and crew members at a sweaty club in budapest, hungary.

it’s all florence’s fault.

you’re supposed to be tucked into bed, reading a book, possibly, or even lazily watching a netflix show while sipping a cup of tea. but, the rap music pounds into your ears, strobe lights casting colorful illumination across the dance floor. you clutch the vodka bottle closer to your chest, watching as sweaty bodies collided in a mere attempt to feel something. florence can sense your fear and desire to leave, and while you’re still staring intently at the crowd, she creeps up next to you. “so.. are you gonna drink the bottle i bought you, or are you gonna hug it all night?”

you look around the table, bottles being kept cool in ice buckets and napkins strewn messily across the wood, locking eyes with a few of your cast members. zendaya and timothee seem deep in conversation over something, probably a drunken talk about how zendaya hated crowds and more specifically, non-casual drinks. you’re debating on how you answer her question, following up with “well, eventually gonna drink it. soaking it all in now.”

“you need to catch up,” she says, but you can already smell the alcohol on her breath. there’s not much catching up to do; she’s probably already near obliterated. “i don’t wanna be drunk alone.”

you roll your eyes at her exaggeration, popping open the bottle of vodka that had been gifted to you, “fine, fine. if i have no choice,” and with that, you tilt the bottle back to meet your lips, your first sip of alcohol touching the back of your throat and causing you to gag repeatedly. you were no stranger to it; you had quite the party girl phase between the ages of 21 and 23.

with shaky hands, you bring the bottle back down to arms length, “happy now?”

“ecstatic,” she grins widely.

“hey, guys.”

you’re about to sputter out the alcohol you swallowed previously, but you manage to keep it together at the sound of austin butler’s voice echoing in your ear. despite the volume of the music, you still manage to hear him, which was the first time in a while you had actually noted the raspiness in his voice. he’s speaking to the group, not just you — definitely not you, poor boy has had his tongue tied around you for months — and everyone greets him excitedly. you clench your jaw at their reaction, rolling your eyes and taking another swig from your bottle. sure, tears are brimming your eyes from the burn of the vodka, but you rather that happen than have to watch everyone ogle over austin gracing them with his presence.

he doesn’t really acknowledge you, just raises an eyebrow in your direction, and you give a half-smile in return. all in all, you’re not ready to admit he looks surprisingly better than he normally does. he has on a white button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows, dress pants and all. his hair looks messy, but not in the way where you can assume he put no effort in his appearance, but that he clearly did try and tousle it a little. he still fits the description from earlier; too pretty to be real. like, who even wears that to a club? you feel whorish, slutty, raunchy, with your skin-tight red dress and black heels.

florence is now deep in conversation with easy steve, and you take the time to take another sip from your bottle. really, she must’ve been onto something, because leaving you alone with a bottle of vodka and your thoughts was lethal. you’re left to look around the table and see who else you could possibly strike up a conversation with. for some reason, timothee is fist-bumping, and your lips curl up in a smile at that. you decide that maybe you and your thoughts could have a good time on their own. you’re slowly swaying your hips in tune to the music, not concerning yourself with how much vodka you’re actually inhaling.

“having fun there?” one of the crew members smiles over at you, and you return the expression. he’s trying to be sweet, so why not entertain him?

“oh, yeah,” you nod, fingers gripping the neck of the bottle tightly as if it were your life jacket. “can you tell it’s my first time out in forever?”

“with the way you’re drinking?” he shakes his head, laughing, “you look like a veteran, honestly.”

out of the corner of your eye, you see austin reach out to pour himself a drink, while he’s also deep in conversation with another crew member; a girl. she giggles at something he says, and you’re about to bend his neck in half. the man must have some kind of vendetta against you, because really, he can’t stand to be around you or something? you turn your attention back to the man you were talking to, but you realize soon enough that you had been staring at austin for so long that he had found someone else to pay attention.

and, then it’s really just back to you, the bottle, and your thoughts.

you opt to take a few sips of cranberry juice from the carafe that is placed strategically on the table, knowing that’ll help ease the buzz the alcohol you’re sweeping through is giving you. you’re drinking at an alarmingly fast pace, and if everyone wasn’t so indulged in their conversations, they might have noticed you going through the bottle as if it were water. but, your feet remain in the same spot, swaying to the music calmly, not a worry in the world.

there’s shuffling around the table, people moving to talk to others they hadn’t gotten the chance to before, and you’re still humming with intoxication. you were way past tipsy, definitely drunk to the point where if florence had asked you to dance amongst the mosh pit of people, you would’ve said yes. you make small talk with a few, exchange jokes with zendaya, and you let yourself flirt with timothee. you know you’re not attracted to him, but you’re just so bored and drunk and alone and he did, in his drunken state, let his eyes roam over your body, so why not?

you abandon the bottle of vodka at some point, as it’s halfway done and serves nearly no purpose to you anymore. you’re at the perfect point of the night, where anything can happen and if someone were to dare you to do something idiotic, you would. it’s like this: every part of your body aches to do something absolutely stupid, and your brain is consistently egging you on, and your lips are flapping to make words that don’t even really make sense. you’re still coherent — they would’ve sent you home if you weren’t — and you rely on your senses to realize just who is standing next to you after the next round of shuffling around the table.

austin butler is awkwardly standing near you, words no use to him anymore as he just looks down at his feet. you’re already annoyed; no, not because of the alcohol, or because of the way his curls fall over his forehead, or the way he’s not speaking to you, but because of the fact that he’s not even trying to hide that he could care less to make conversation with you. or, well, that’s what you assume it is, because alcohol is invading your bloodstream.

you sit down on the couch behind you, leaning back to rest against the cushion. everyone seems to follow suit, their legs tired from moving around ever so slightly to engage in more talk. austin carefully sits down next to you, and you move your knees to point in the opposite direction, making sure to not let your skin come into contact with his.

“[y/n]!” florence squeals, and she’s stepping on austin’s toes as she squeezes herself on the other side of you. she’s so, so drunk, but she’s your closest friend on set and you love her dearly, so you find it endearing.

“hi, flo.”

okay, you’re so, so drunk too.

“i… love this place,” she gushes, taking a sip of her vodka cranberry that is clearly melted ice at that point. “like, i just love hungary. every time i go out in the u.k, i hate it. hate, hate, hate it.”

you giggle at her words, “what? i thought you loved going out there.”

she scrunches her nose as if your words were poisonous, “god, no. all those pricks out there aren’t half as fun as here.”

“you know, australia’s pretty fun too.”

the man of the hour finally speaks. you’re almost shocked to hear his voice so close to your ear, and you turn to look at the source. austin’s hair is considerably more messy than before, stains from his previous drinks littered across his shirt. his voice hugs you, and you feel a tingle in your core that you push aside because you’re so, so drunk and there is no way you’re letting his voice irritate you. if anything, you’re more shocked at the fact that he finally found a way to speak around you.

“really?” of course, florence is encouraging him on. “i haven’t been in ages, i’ve been meaning to go out there. you were in queensland, right?”

“yeah, we mostly went out ‘round there,” he now turns his body towards the two of you. “we did that for a good few months, before covid hit and everything.”

“oh, wow, where did you guys go out there? i might know a few,” florence says excitedly, giddy to have someone to converse with that wasn’t with your debby-downer attitude. you cross your arms over your chest like a toddler who hadn’t gotten their way, letting them tire themselves out with their chatter. they had stopped acknowledging you completely, just leaving you to listen in as if their talk was more important than anything in the world.

“i like sydney better,” you finally chime in — in a very snotty tone that throws florence off guard — and austin’s eyes widen a little, his head swiveling to face you.

“really?” he asks softly, almost coming out as a whisper against the rap music that blares from every corner. he’s lucky you can read lips. not that you were staring or anything.

“yeah,” you confirm, arms still glued to your chest. “just not really a fan of queensland.”

luckily, no one can tell that you’re literally lying through your teeth, because one: you have never been to australia in your entire life and two: if someone asks what clubs you’ve been to there, you were thoroughly fucked.

“no way! where in sydney have you been to?”

you were going to strangle florence pugh.

you smile, a shaky one that nearly falls off your lips, and your words are a little slurred as you speak, “oh, ya know, where didn’t i go? i can’t even remember the names, it was just so wild.”

that seems to be a good enough answer for the two of them — or, they’ve sussed out that you have no clue what you’re talking about — because they don’t push the issue any further. they move on to another topic, talking about filming and europe. you tune in and out of the conversation before reaching for your bottle once more. taking another swig, you hug it to your chest, replacing your arms.

“you know, [y/n], i’m soooo happy you came out tonight,” florence has finally reached the i love you speeches part of the night, but lucky enough for her, you’re more than capable of partaking in that.

“me too,” you grin goofily, tucking your hair behind your ear. “i love alcohol. and you. and budapest.”

“you weren’t gonna come out tonight?” he speaks directly towards you, and it takes you aback more than you’d like to admit, because for once, he’s not asking how you are or how’s the weather.

“yeah, wasn’t feeling it, honestly,” you shrug, still avoiding eye contact and playing with your hands that gripped the bottle.

“what changed your mind?” you can tell he’s drunk. god knows, he’s drunk because there is no way he’s actually speaking to you. he can’t even believe it himself, since he couldn’t muster the courage to say more than four words to you at a time.

“i don’t know,” you admit, “i really haven’t gone out in a while. felt like maybe it was overdue.”

“yeah, i felt the same,” he says, running a hand through his hair. you can’t help but notice how it descends perfectly onto his temple, and you finally look up to meet his eyes. they are ice-blue, something you had noticed before, but when you peer into them, you notice how they stare into your own, causing you to squirm in your seat. “haven’t been out in a while after my last movie. i don’t know if you saw it or anything.”

maybe it’s the alcohol creeping up on you, or the way his eyes are still gazing into yours, but you feel the need to keep the conversation going, uttering, “i saw elvis. you look—did good. did good.”

you were praying for a sink hole to open up in the middle of the dance floor to swallow you up whole.

thankfully, he spares you the embarrassment and doesn’t note that you almost confessed your attraction to him. no, no, not attraction. what the hell were you feeling? it was bizarre, he had spoken more than four words to you and you found yourself like putty in his hands. you were starting to see why everyone was laughing at his jokes on set; they probably weren’t even funny, his eyes were just piercing into them. “thanks. i saw your last film too.”

somehow, he keeps managing to shock you with everything he says. you chalk it up to liquid courage, because now this man is speaking to you as if he’s talked to you his whole life, with confidence and ease. “that piece of crap? god, i hated it.” it was entirely true; it was a netflix original that had you playing a high schooler at the grown age of 25.

he chuckles at your words, and you sit up straighter at the sound. for a moment, your heart almost betrays you, beating faster than its normal resting rate. “i get it. i was a nickelodeon star for a little. worst. years. of. my. life.”

your eyes widen a little as you come to a realization, your knees fully swiveling towards his body, “oh my god! yes! you were in zoey 101, weren’t you?”

“i was,” he smiles at you for the first time, and you’re overcome with a whirlwind of emotions; desire, attraction, possibly anger at the fact he waited that long to talk to you. and, so, you keep talking, because he’s good company and he likes hearing what you have to say. florence has fully disengaged from your conversation, entertaining herself with easy steve once more. you and austin talk about clubbing, what you enjoy to do in your free time, how you managed to get a college degree before becoming an actress, and he’s thoroughly hanging onto every word you say. liquor is still flowing, and you two even take a shot together before continuing to talk about nothingness.

you’re so enthralled in your conversation that you don’t notice when he rests his arm right above you on the edge of the couch, not touching your skin but enough to mark his territory. you’re not cognizant of his body fully facing you, knees touching yours as he watched your lips move with every word you spoke. “but, yeah, that’s why i moved to new york city. i feel like i made the right choice, ‘ya know?”

“oh, i get it,” he nods, “i’m trying to move from california. i think i like the city, did the broadway thing for a while and fell in love with it.”

“really?” your eyes are sparkling, and he takes a mental picture just for himself to envision later. “i love broadway. i used to see shows all the time.”

“what’s your favorite show?” he asks, genuinely interested in what you have to say, and it makes you feel seen, for once. men tended to look over you, and that might have been due to the people you were choosing, but you chalked it up to just them being disinterested.

“that’s a tough one,” you tap your nails against the 75% empty vodka bottle, “i would have to say wicked.”

“good choice,” his lips curl upwards into a smile once more.

“oh, i know my choice is impeccable,” you say sarcastically, and he throws his head back in laughter. you like the sound of it, to the point where you’re about to whip your phone out secretly and record it to listen to as a lullaby.

the nagging feeling of having to urinate is still pressing against your bladder, but your body refuses to get up. you’re captivated by the conversation you’ve partaken in, and the idea that if you move away from him might change anything is enough to keep you glued to your seat. but, you’re almost tempted to see if he would keep it going, to see if he would reciprocate the tension you’re feeling. florence’s words from earlier ring in your ear like a siren, and you have to clench your thighs to stop yourself from getting carried away. no, he definitely is just being nice. he’s drunk and wants someone to talk to, and frankly, so do you.

so, you decide to stand up, placing the vodka bottle down on the table and smoothing out your red dress. “hold on, i’ll be back. i just have to pee.” he answers with a slight nod. he misses the feeling of your knees pressed against his, and notices as soon as the contact is gone.

as you try and find your way to the bathroom, you let your delusions get the best of you, and you begin to hope, pray, that he follows you in there.

you actually really do have to pee, and you do sit down on the toilet, but some sickly part of you wants him to walk in there and tempt you. you don’t even know what you’re thinking — this man has continuously ignored you for months. but, florence’s words just haunt you as you think that maybe you do need to get laid, and austin isn’t the worst option out there. he’s tall, he smells good, he’s got a gorgeous laugh and stunning eyes. jesus christ, get a grip.

you’re about halfway out the bathroom door, drunkenly stumbling over your heels, before you fall right into someone’s arms.

upon contact, you know exactly who you landed into.

but, to confirm, you look up through hooded eyelids to make eye contact with austin, his arms still holding your biceps. “shit, my bad,” he says softly, swallowing the rest of the saliva that pooled in his mouth.

“yeah, no worries, i was just, um, going back out there.”

“yeah, no, of course.”

he says that but still makes no attempt to let you go.

“is it still fun out there?”

“it’s alright. florence went home.”

“oh.”

quit the small talk, you’re hoping he’s telepathic and hearing every word you’re yelling at him in your brain.

he finally releases you, and you fall back a little. he scratches the back of his neck nervously before asking feebly, “can i ask you a question?”

you’re hoping your eyes don’t look as if they’re about to fall out of their sockets. “what’s up?”

“uh — well, i, um,” all his confidence from earlier dwindles into thin air, “uh, was just wondering if —“

you raise an eyebrow, “yes?”

“i, uh, heard you earlier talking to florence.”

“and?”

“…ya know, about needing to hook up with somebody.”

where was that sinkhole to swallow you up?

“how’d you even hear us?” you manage to muster out in horror. it was more disbelief, but he must’ve moved with so much stealth that you didn’t even notice him, the way he hadn’t noticed you.

“i-i was just walking by, and then, heard my name and all —“

“oh, yeah, ‘cause that’s not creepy,” you say sarcastically.

“right,” he avoids your eyes now, focusing on some stain on his shoes. in all honesty, you’re not sure what he’s even getting at, because now that he was back to being unable to formulate words around you, you weren’t even sure you were attracted to him any longer. but, you were intoxicated, so that thought lasted about two seconds. “listen, i’m just gonna be honest.”

“okay.”

“would you… want to hook up?”

you’re stunned. you had never been so stupefied in your entire life, and you feel as though someone just yanked you off the spinning planet, leaving you to float in space. your jaw fell slack at his suggestion, silence overtaking the two of you despite the music that still blasted through the speakers. “what?” you have to ask, because there’s no way he’s being serious.

“we don’t have to — i mean, you don’t have to do anything. plus, i think i kinda have whiskey dick, but i could eat you out or something —“

he is being serious.

“you… want to go down on me?” you’re almost intrigued, because no man had ever offered to do something without getting some form of stimulation in return. you’re thinking back to all the horrible things you said about him, and discarding every last one.

he nods.

“you don’t even… you barely talked to me.”

“yeah, i-i’m sorry ‘bout all that, i just get nervous,” he draws his lips in between his teeth, and you think you might collapse then and there and someone’ll have to scrape your body off the floor. “kinda had a little crush on you.”

“are you serious?” you ask incredulously. “we exchanged four words.”

“yeah, i-i know, listen, i feel bad about all that, i just literally —“

you’re not even about to let him keep going on with his ramblings, and you find yourself dragging him by his shirt collar into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. you lean against the wood, cooling your body that seemed to warm up from his words. he faces you, lips parted and cheeks blushed. “okay, this is crazy.”

“i know —“

you held up a finger, pausing him mid-word before he could utter anything else that barely resembled a full sentence. he was so lucky there was even an ounce of alcohol flowing in your system, because all those feelings of desire and longing are lingering in your brain, demanding that you listen to them. “this is crazy. and, the fact that i’m even slightly considering it is concerning me more.”

his mouth parts as he’s about to respond before you shake your finger, indicating that there’s more left to your sentence. “if, if we do this, you cannot tell anyone.”

he nods again, this time like a lost puppy.

“i’m not kidding, austin. no one can know about this,” you repeat, hoping the words drill into his brain.

“no one will know.”

“i’m only doing this because it’s been a while, okay, like a good few months.”

“okay.”

he’s looking at you eagerly, as if he were ready to devour you and you’re suddenly overcome with every bit of desire for him, wetness pooling between your thighs and soaking your underwear. your heart thumps loudly in your ear as you mull over his offer. weirdly enough, he is your best option at that point in the night. it was either austin butler, the man who apparently has pined for your affection the entire time, or some sweaty stranger plucked from the dance floor. you repeat the same word he had, because what else is there to say when austin butler is begging you to let him eat you out? “okay.”

he blinks twice, an expression full of shock and a tad of confusion plastered on his face as he realizes you’re consenting to it, to him. he moves towards you, and your eyes are locked into his. you’re not even sure if you’re breathing properly as he reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb tracing over your jaw.

you take the moment to really, finally, look at him. his nose juts out at the perfect angle, blue eyes calming you as if they were waves melting into rocks, his plump, pink lips parted slightly as he exhaled. he was angelic, and you nearly shot yourself from the thought of ever looking past him. he’s doing the same with you; taking note of every single freckle, every mark that adorned your face. he was irrevocably entranced by you. he leans in towards you, hand cupping your chin, “‘m gonna kiss you now.”

you’re still nodding as he pulls your chin towards his to meet his warm lips that taste like alcohol, and you’re immediately paralyzed by the way your lips collide with his, meshing perfectly as if they were always meant to. he’s kissing you fiercely to make you want more, but not to be sloppy. your wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his body closer into you, back firmly pressed against the door. surprisingly enough, despite the drunken state you’re both trapped in, you move in sync and the arousal in your panties only escalates, burning your entire body.

you pull away for a moment of air, inhaling and exhaling at a sharp rate, and he doesn’t miss a beat, only going down to your neck to press light kisses, then suck. he continues the pattern, and you find yourself running your fingers through his curls, soft moans slipping from between your lips. you’re too blind to even realize what’s actually going on, that you’re really in a bathroom at a club in budapest, hungary, making out with your co-star. you hope your alarm clock doesn’t suddenly go off.

his tongue swirls around a sweet spot on your neck, and you bite your lip to contain the moan that’s begging to be let out.

and before you’re really going to protest or say anything remotely coherent, he sinks to his knees, the cold tiles grounding him as his hand roams up your thighs. you’re just watching, in complete and utter disbelief, as he slowly bunches up your dress to around your belly button, revealing your pair of panties that were absolutely dripping. you should be embarrassed — in fact, you definitely are — but he only looks up at you submissively, eyes interlocking selfishly. “can i?”

you nod, lip still stuck in between your teeth. you watch as he slips your underwear right down your legs, pressing a light kiss to your thighs. he looks back up at you one last time, for that one last confirmation he needed, and you give it to him, your hand entangling in his hair as you push his head to where you need him the most.

his hands make their way around your hips, pressing into the bone as he steadies your body against the door. just when you think you’re about to beg for him, that you might have to embarrass yourself further, he presses his tongue, flat, against your folds, and you whimper at the contact. he licks carefully, deliberately, as if he knows just what to do to make you unfold, as if he’s done this his whole life.

his lips slip around your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves and causing you to throw your head back and slam it on the wood behind you. he’s encouraged by your response, working faster as his tongue flicked against your clit repeatedly, the stimulation almost too much to bear. “o-oh,” you moan out, tugging at his hair and moving your hips against his face, nearly riding his lips at that point.

it had been a long time since you had someone go down on you, but never like this. your eyes are squeezed tight, strings of profanities amongst his name coming out your lips like the only words you ever knew. your juices ran down his chin messily, and he moves one of his hands from your hips down to your folds, parting them to get better access to your core. “fuck, austin,” is all you can say. he’s just watching, admiring you from down there as he works feverishly against your pussy, lapping up your juices.

your eyes meet for just a flash, and you suddenly feel shy, as if he wasn’t really eating you out on the floor of a bathroom, as if you hadn’t known for him for a good six months. his lips are coated in your juices, fingers soaked as well, blue eyes now darkened as he sloppily devours you. he wants you to cum, right onto his face, to feel you come undone because of him. he hooks two fingers into you, reaching a spot you had only ever done yourself, and you jolt forward. your body is trembling as he just fucks you with his finger, nose pressed against your lower body as he buries his lips, tongue darting at your clit.

just when you think you’re already down for the count, that he already was going to make you cum harder than any other man ever could, he reaches out to hoist one of your legs on his shoulder, and you instinctively push him further into you, as if it were even possible. his tongue is circling your clit, and you can feel it, the sensation you’d been dreading bubbling in your abdomen, because indisputably, you do not want this to end. you’re a moaning, screaming, shaking mess and austin is pinning you down against the door, fighting to get you to your release.

his fingers work desperately in and out of you, and he moans against you at the feeling of your walls tightening around his fingers. you can’t even fight the feeling, or try and delay it, because it’s overwhelming you to the point where you’re screaming his name and begging for more, to take you to the edge. “austin, oh my god, please, i’m so fucking close —“

“come on, baby. i want you to cum on my face,” he speaks against your core, hot breath waning over your aching entrance as he rapidly continues to stretch you out with his digits, and you’re done fighting; you want nothing more than to release all over his stupid pink lips, and his stupid perfect face that you can’t believe is at your mercy right now.

this could possibly be the most toe-curling, back-arching, mouth-foaming, eyes-rolling orgasm of your life, and it washes over with so much power you’re shocked you’re even still standing. his fingers are still inside you as your walls spasm and contact around them, hands reaching out to grip onto his shoulder in desperation. you let out a choked sob, as white washes over your vision, your body completely shattering into little pieces. he pulls his fingers out of you, hypnotized by the way your cheeks flush, eyelashes fluttering as you struggle to recover.

and, you’re still quite not sure you’re alive moments later, balancing yourself against the door as you try to contain your breathing. you look down at him, and you observe as he utilizes his fingers to wipe the remaining juices off his chin and lips, licking every last drop clean.

you’re rendered speechless, useless to him as you can’t even formulate a word, just one measly word to say to him. he gets up, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you’re still standing there, panties still draped around your ankles. “you good now?” he asks, almost coolly, as if his tongue wasn’t buried inside of you mere minutes before.

“i-i — yeah, i, uh, guess so. thanks, i guess,” you swallow, eventually gathering your last ounce of strength to pull your panties back up, pulling down your dress to your thighs. “you go out first, i’ll catch up. don’t want anyone to suspect anything.”

he just nods, looking like he’s about to say something but instead swallowing thickly before walking back out into the club. you hear the sound of the music for just a second when he opens that door, before you’re engulfed by the silence as soon as it swings closed. you look over at yourself in the mirror, makeup partially ruined and hair matted from the sweat. you’re not even sure you can walk properly, scared to even try. you feel like a baby bird who’s trying to leave the nest for the first time.

with one last exhale of oxygen, and the little resilience you still have left in your body, you swing open the bathroom door, flattening out your dress again and meeting the bustling crowd of people that happened to remain at this hour.

you’re hoping it’s not obvious that you just had the best orgasm of your life in that bathroom.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

yeah, you’re going to need to see that therapist.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

#i need mental help #austin butler #austin butler angst #austin butler fluff #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler elvis #austin butler gif #austin butler fanfic #elvis 2022

[mk-writes-stuff]

Personality Through Quotes

Rules: write quotes for your OCs following the prompts, then create a new prompt for the next people

Thanks @mysticstarlightduck, @elsie-writes, and @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tags! My prompts are, “a quote about their relationship with money,” “a quote about getting or being sick,” and “a quote about a weird habit they or someone else has.”

A quote about their relationship with money

Belladonna: “I try to be reasonable with my budget, but a noblewoman can afford to splurge.”

Cassie: “Yeah, fine, I’ll admit this bodyguard shit pays pretty well. Still not worth dealing with nobles.”

Nellie: “I just got my first paycheque yesterday! Cassie said she’d take me shopping, and I’m so excited. I’ve never been shopping before.”

Narcissus: “Money? Why would I worry about that? My station can afford it.”

Ricinus: “Proper budgeting is essential to station management.”

Goldenrod: “Ricinus always complains about me spending money. I don’t know why, we can afford it.”

Cassiopeia: “My station always does well financially. I keep a good hold on it.”

Stellaris: “I’m not good with numbers, but that doesn’t mean I can’t budget! It just takes me a bit longer, that’s all.”

Rhys: “I’ve never had money. Clones don’t get paid.”

Sel: “Money! I know what that is and how to spend it… of course…”

A quote about getting or being sick

Belladonna: “I hate being sick. Luckily, it doesn’t happen too often, but I hate how little I can get done and how puffy my face always looks.”

Cassie: “Couple of coworkers on the lower station told me that a couple ibuprofen and a shot’ll keel you from feeling any illness, and let me tell you, it fucking works.”

Nellie: “I feel sick all the time right now. The doctor said the withdrawal does that, but it’s still miserable.”

Narcissus: “I don’t get sick. But if I did, I’d still look immaculate.” (I feel the need to impress that this is a massive lie.)

Ricinus: “I don’t enjoy getting sick, but it’s a sign I need a break.”

Goldenrod: “Ricinus never takes care of me when I’m sick. It’s so unfair.”

Cassiopeia: “Illness is an unfortunate fact of life. It’s important that I take care of myself when it happens.”

Stellaris: “I feel sick all the time. I hate it.”

Rhys: “I only ever seem to get sick when Goldenrod gets me to wait on her while she is. It’s part of the job, I suppose.”

Sel: “Being sick is stressful. What if I’m feverish and I say something I don’t mean?”

A quote about a weird habit they or someone else has

Belladonna: “Cassie seems to think taking her hand off repeatedly counts as fidgeting. I’ve told her it doesn’t, but she doesn’t listen to me.”

Cassie: “Belladonna thinks I have weird habits? She’s the one who eats like a fucking weirdo, have you seen the way she practically plots out every bite like it’s a fucking military maneuver?”

Nellie: “I don’t understand why Rhys holds his knives the way he does. I really should ask him. It just seems unsafe to hold them in a fist like that - he keeps cutting himself. I’m worried about him.”

Narcissus: “I don’t understand why everyone seems to be in the constant habit of trying to one-up me. I mean, it’s already clear that I’m superior to them and it’s not going to work - what are they trying to achieve?”

Ricinus: “Goldenrod’s peculiar habits all make sense to me. I know they’re covers for her to cheat.”

Goldenrod: “Ricinus thinks he’s being subtle with his little sneaky methods to see if I’m cheating, but I know what he’s up to.”

Cassiopeia: “I don’t understand Stellaris. He’s always waving his hands in the air and making some little squealing noise. I’ve told him it’s undignified, but he won’t stop.”

Stellaris: “I know my little hand movements and little sounds make me a freak, but they feel so natural and so relieving that sometimes they just happen.”

Rhys: “Nellie says I hold my knives weird. I know I do, but I can’t seem to hold them the right way. My hands don’t listen to me.”

Sel: “I know I have strange habits. I pull at my hair when I’m anxious.” *is currently pulling his hair*

I don’t feel super confident in this one but it’s done now :)

@illarian-rambling @somethingclevermahogony @touloserlautrec want to play? Your prompt is, “a quote about rest.”

#writeblr #tag game #seven station chronicles

[valerieisunavailable]

Slender Brother Headcanons

These can be varied and everyone has their different opinions, but this is what vibes I get from him so--

Slender:

- Slender is blind. Sort of. While he can’t see you physically, he can see you very clearly with his mind (if that makes sense?) Like he knows where you're at and what your facial expressions are, your movements, etc., but with his mind. But nobody knows this except his brothers. (I also think this would be interesting for fanfics too)

- He does change his ties from time to time, but he rarely ever does it hardly anyone notices. He also has different colored suits, grey and dark dark blue (to wear it almost looks black). But only wears them on occasion.

- I feel like while yes, he does speak English, he can also speak Slavic languages too. (Oh to hear him speaking Russian, truly my favorite language. прекрасный. I also think it’s hilarious that people have added that he can speak German because of him constantly working and getting things done.)

- While he may seem cold-hearted, that’s not entirely the case. While he may think that he’s superior humans for obvious reasons, this doesn’t mean he necessarily despises them. Humans have done a lot of awful things, but have also made a lot of great accomplishments. They’re very creative and wise and have made various arts and literatures, And how can a bookworm hate the authors? Many of his pastas have suggested ideas to him about a multitude of things that have surprised him and consider other options.

- He has a caseload of all the pastas. Their backstory, mental illnesses, etc. He keeps this in mind always, even adding personal notes of how they respond in certain situations and ways to modify their behaviors if need be.

- If your ever finding feelings for him, trust me, he already knew before you thought of ways to show your affection or appreciation. He’s just waiting to see what things you’ll come up with, rather he’s interested or not. Your doing tons of research on his species and general and getting into chemicals naturally in the body and how their brains and organs work. But Offender is already helping you with that because he thinks it’s funny and wondering if you can actually pull it off. Trender is in the background criticizing both of you.

Splendor:

- Splendor is the way he is because he had more attachment to his mom. The others were ridiculed and tried to be forced into the mold their father were giving them. But his father seemed to give up rather early on Splendor for being too light-hearted. This also explains his rather child-like behavior. But Slender especially was forced into the mold to become successful. That doesn’t mean he isn’t jealous or doesn’t feel guilty at times. Whenever their father does come over, while he still complains at Slender, he mostly compliments him and says to him and the others that they should have done better and that they’re an embarrassment to the family name. This has lead up to multiple family fights and Offender and Trender standing up for Splendor when it does happen.

- Despite him acting happy, he is very insecure and causes him to very poorly bottle up his emotions. He tries to do what is expected of him but it never works out. He stands out more than anything and he’ll often isolate himself.

- Splendor is more lenient on humans because of how empathetic he is. Especially with getting to know some of the pastas’ backstories, he feels deeply connected with them because of what he’s been through, and what they’ve been through are as bad if not worse than what he’s had to deal with.

- Even though he generally wears the multi-color polka dotted suit and hat, that is not all that’s in his wardrobe. Oh no. He has the flamboyant hot-pink suit, he has purple suits, red suits, suits of all colors and suits with different polka-dot patterns. Not to count the amount of props and accessories he has for the suits alone-- I’m talking stop-watch clocks and everything.

- This man is also so fucking oblivious. Compliment all you want, but if your trying to show that your actually falling for the doofus, your going to have to be WAY more flirty than that. Why do you think Offender has all these extravagant ways to embarrass him? Because what your doing didn’t work for him in the first place.

Trender:

- Remember this dude is canonically gay. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he would be the dom in the situation either. While his general attitude is very intimidating, during sexual things he’s the more submissive guy. But that doesn’t me he won’t still complain or argue about things ya’ll should. And don’t think he isn’t kinky either. Some things I imagine him saying lol:

“In that position? Really? No offense, but I thought you’d be more creative.”

“Could you maybe go a little bit faster? Seriously this is kind of embarrassing.”

“ No no NO WRONG HOLE WRONG--” (They have more than two *wink*)

Then there’s just the random thoughts during intercourse:

“Do you think Kylie Jenner ever did it like this?”

“What kind of things would you think the Kardashians are into?”

- While he’s big in fashion design and will wear extravagant clothes from time to time, he does prefer more simple and cozy styles of clothing. Sometimes he likes to sit back and relax with some coffee too, you know.

- Catches onto things that others might not. These can be things that are very obvious to things that are complex and easy to miss.

- Despite being a fashion designer, he is afraid of needles. And tattoos. Anything with needles.

Offender:

- Acts like he doesn't care. He does.

- Despite being a sex addict and alcoholic, he does try to make those close to him happy.

- Has a bunch of scratch marks from gardening.

- Has, on multiple occasions, tried to get Slender drunk or high by putting things in his coffee or food. It has also, worked on multiple occasions.

- Has had multiple relationships with the pastas. Most of them have failed.

- A male stripper

- Will try any of Trender's outfits, including feminine ones. And any sexy clothes.

#creepypasta headcanon #slender brothers #creeepypasta #slender #offenderman #splendorman #trenderman

[granulesofsand]

Poison - Hazbin Hotel

🗝️��️ RAMCOA, death, substances

There are a few pieces of media that us trafficked alters like because it reflects us. Not how nonsurvivors think we should be, ugly healing and continued survival. And there are always people who don’t understand how this could happen to someone trying to press these characters into boxes they can easily grasp.

Not all of it has to be wrong, but even today I saw a swarm of fans talking about Angel Dust’s song ‘Poison’ as alluding to a romantic involvement with Valentino prior to his contract. They could well be right, and they could well not.

It’s a song from a multisensory media. That media is revealing, foreshadowing, and concealing especially hard during the musical numbers because of the format, so we’re probably not meant to understand the whole of it when it appears.

That said, it’s about trafficking. I relate heavily to that song because it centers a very classic manipulation. Abusers absolutely twist your reality to make it your fault, your choice, always what you did.

Shooting sexually exploitative material differs from plain porn, and the lack of regulation and safety can blur the line. Regardless of where Angel Dust crossed it, it’s SEM now. Hells, I don’t know if we use that term for adults, but sex trafficking damn certain is.

Someone, several someones, in that discussion said that Angel Dust having been attached to Valentino makes his situation more realistic. While the character is not real, his story is. It is not just his story when you turn to a group you otherwise ignore. It does not matter if you lived your own version of this story, you do not get to claim anyone else’s is unrealistic.

I don’t see where the prior relationship with Valentino becomes the assumption, or even relevant to Angel Dust’s abuse. Complicated relationships form easily within these dynamics, and romantic/platonic bonds to handlers are encouraged, if for no other reason than emotional immaturity of a perpetrator.

I love my handlers still. I was made for them in every sense of the word, and the tangled mess that is relational trauma felts. What you pull out will not be the same as what went in.

There is an art of dissociation specific to sexual exploitation that allows you to enjoy it simply because you have no other choice. That can be a poison, the comfort of being abused, and I do find the song to be more about the need to keep going through trauma with no end in sight.

Angel Dust is from a mob family. That is inherently organized abuse, and the whole of it is beyond labyrinthine. Probably it was labor trafficking too. It often involves terrorization, Trauma-Based Mind Control by way of extreme violence inflicted on and around a victim and then interpreted for them. We call it torture, and it is that and more.

You can’t undo that. Heal, if you are lucky and steadfast in your goals, but never undo. He never had a chance, and whatever went on between him and Valentino is not his fault. To say so would be to condemn every survivor who has fallen from what group to another, and this is the story of many. We are real.

Angel was an adult at his death, but his development was likely fucked by having grown up as he did. Peripheral as it may have been — which it does not seem to be — you don’t get a chance at nature if this is your nurture. You are utterly destroyed, dematerialized, to be built over for another’s benefit.

Survivors do not owe you anything. It was the job of the public to preemptively save us from these horrors, and even as we stand in the light you avert your gaze. People die from this — from suicide or overdose or resulting illness, but also from having been tortured to death.

Angel is a character who represents us. He is a survivor, not because he is alive but because he lived through the first time. He died young, as do most of us. He is unsightly and inappropriate and me. Poking at him feels like poking at me, because that is the closest I have ever seen to myself in media.

[shybunny]

more nun stuff PLEASE love. maybe she wakes up to the devil fucking her or maybe fucking another nun

🔞 this post contains erotic writing intended for adults. do not interact with this post if you are a minor/under eighteen

😇 nuns, wlw, masturbation, groping, fingering, innocence, corruption 🤔 shame, mildish dubcon

There’s another nun in the convent who you think of as your particular friend. You spend more time with her than any of the other women, frequently working together and often confiding in each other.

Right now the two of you are happily working and talking in the kitchen. You watch her surreptitiously as she kneads the bread dough. She’s such a pretty little thing, always cheerful and smiling, with generous curves that even her shapeless habit can’t hide. As she rolls out the dough, learning over the kitchen counter, her breasts swing back and forth beneath the rough wool of her tunic. You’re mesmerized by the sight, but you jerk your gaze away, flustered, when she turns to you with a smile.

Later that night you lie in bed and abuse yourself. You commit this shameful act every night now, imagining any number of lewd and shameful things, but tonight you're thinking of your friend, thinking of her ample breasts swinging back and forth over the kitchen counter, thinking of her hands kneading the thick dough and imagining them on your chest.

The next day you do another long set of chores with her. You try to keep your eyes from her bosom, but by the end of the day, your pussy is buzzing with need, and all you want to do is go back to your room and rub that aching wetness between your legs.

Your friend walks you back to your plain little cell. She hesitates at the door, and looks shyly at the ground as she speaks.

“Would you mind if I asked your advice on something, Sister?”

“Of course,” you tell her, surprised.

“Well… It’s just that I’ve been experiencing a lot of… discomfort lately, in my… between my…” She’s still staring down at the ground, tongue-tied and blushing. You feel your own face getting hot when you realize what she means.

“Oh,” you say, voice cracking nervously.

"Lately it's been getting so swollen and wet all the time... I can barely keep my mind on my work." She looks back up at you with her big worried eyes. “I just don’t know what it means. You don’t think I could be ill, do you?”

She doesn’t know what it means? Could she truly be that innocent? You can’t respond for a moment, because you’re vividly imagining her plump wet privates, and your own privates start to throb in response. You know you should put a stop to this conversation, but she looks so worried and confused.

You noisily clear your throat. “It happens to me too sometimes… But there are things you can do to relieve your discomfort.”

“Really?” she says, looking suddenly hopeful. “Will you show me what to do?” She catches your hand and presses closer to you, excited, inadvertently pressing her plump breasts into your arm. Oh God… They’re so much softer than you imagined. And she’s looking up at you with such a sweet, trusting expression.

Against your better judgment, you let her follow you into your cell. You shouldn’t be doing this; you’re making her complicit in your sin. But she’s still looking at you with those big, trusting eyes, relying on you to help her in her hour of need. How can you say no to her?

You sit down on your thin mattress, scoot back and spread your knees to create a space between your thighs. You gesture her over gingerly, patting the mattress so that she sits between your legs, looking over her shoulder at you, shyly but with affectionate attention and interest. Good lord… You look away from her sweet face and concentrate on slowly pulling up the fabric of her skirts, then reaching down and carefully feeling the lips of her pussy. She lets out a little “Oh…” of surprise as you gently explore her folds. You swallow convulsively. She’s already so swollen and wet… You’ve never done this to anyone else, but you try to imagine how you do it to yourself. How you tease yourself, lightly massaging your fingers over the soft folds, stroking the sensitive edges and dipping between them to feel the growing wetness. You feel her breathing get faster as you tease her like this, and she leans back against your chest.

Unable to resist the temptation, you slide your other hand onto her chest and heft one of her plump breasts, soft and moldable even through the layers of fabric. You can't help it, you start kneading and groping her breast, and she moans gently in your arms.

“Tell me if you want me to stop…” you whisper.

“No, please,” she begs, breathless, “please keep going, it’s just what I need. It feels so good—” She gasps as you start to rub her faster. She lets her head loll back against your shoulder, her eyes squeezed gently shut and her pretty lips parted on a little moan as you rub her swollen pussy. She moans sweetly and undulates her hips as you bring her closer and closer to release, rubbing her harder and faster and fondling her breasts more eagerly until she bites back a little cry and starts cumming against your fingers, writhing in your arms, breasts heaving under your hand.

With an effort of will, you remove your hand from her bosom, and pull your other hand out from between her legs. She’s still leaning back against you, panting.

“Oh…” she says, breathless. “That was so… so wonderful… I feel so much better… Thank you…” She looks up at you with her sweet face all dreamy, and you wonder if she would mind very much if you kissed her. But before you can broach the subject, she stands herself up, swaying a bit as she rights her skirts. She grins at you, thanking you again, but she really should be getting off the bed now.

Feeling terribly embarrassed, you walk her to the door of your cell. You’re about to let her go when she turns in the doorway and looks back up at you. “Um…” she says, blushing, “if I get like this again… will you help me the next time too?”

#religion kink #corruption kink #wlw nsft #nsft text #nsft #smut #request 🐇

[lime1991]

My dsmp Tubbo and Tommy canons (I can do whatever I want and these are canon facts to me)

Tubbo:

-smoked cigarettes a lot during the Schlatt administration to get away from all of the… everything. Fundy was the one who started this for him.

-hates alcohol because of Schlatt and Wilbur. Before being part of Schlatt’s cabinet he had to deal with Wilbur being drunk and mentally ill too.

-is Wilbur’s adopted brother, calls Phil by his name instead of “dad” even though he was literally raised by him. Also doesn’t call Wilbur his brother unless it’s brought up in some way.

-Tommy is his best friend. He is Tommy’s favorite person. Their conversations are very monotone.

-has breathing problems due to smoking. Has tried to quit, but can’t. Instead smokes weed every so often because it’s better than nicotine.

-has bipolar disorder, when he’s manic he wakes up at 5 am and does yard work. When he’s depressed, he can’t get out of bed for days. He knows he’s bipolar, many people do, but it still was a reason his marriage fell apart (not his fault)

-he did not get custody of Michael when he and Ranboo divorced, because he didn’t fight for it because doesn’t think he can really raise a child with all his personal issues (in a “I would never have kids because I’m too mentally ill and traumatized” way)

-bonded with Quackity during the Schlatt administration, is maybe the only one who knows to what extent Quackity was fucked up by Schlatt. They have a weird relationship that’s similar to a mother and son. Don’t question it.

-I’m a fan of dadschlatt so in my brain Tubbo is Schlatt’s biological son, and they only find this out when they’re working together and Schlatt grills him on his family history and it strangely matches up with that one time Schlatt decided to leave the girl he accidentally impregnated and fully skip town. So when Schlatt and Quackity get married Quackity is basically Tubbo’s stepmom.

-he and Wilbur are like 12 years apart, when Fundy is born, Wilbur is 20. When Fundy and Tubbo meet for the first time, Fundy is 8 and Tubbo is 16. And, yes, Tubbo went to live with Wilbur when he turned 16 for reasons and was like “Wil who the fuck is this child” and Wilbur is like “oh that’s my daughter” ???

Tommy:

-trans girl.

-met Wilbur before she met Tubbo. They lived in the same place. When Tubbo went to live with Wilbur he was immediately bombarded by a strange hyperactive fifteen year old.

-Tommy’s parents left her. She didn’t believe that they did at first, but they did. (By the way I’ve decided L’Manburg was a commune) Because her parents have left her alone on the commune, she’s sort of raised by all of the adults and herself. This is how she knows Wilbur.

-has bpd and severe abandonment issues. Originally attached herself to Wilbur before meeting Tubbo and becoming close with him. During the Pogtopia era, Tommy goes insane and completely attaches herself to Wilbur again.

-When Wilbur dies during war, Tommy’s whole personality switches and instead of being majorly depressed she pretends that it didn’t happen and stays completely delusional for like a month.

-during Exile, she had time to think about herself and her identity and it’s when she comes out to herself as trans. Dream is also the first person she actually comes out to. And I can’t decide if Ghostbur is a hallucination or not, but Tommy doesn’t know either it’s ok.

-very delusional. Like, schizophrenic. Genuinely believed during Exile that Dream was her best friend and wasn’t like beating her and destroying her stuff every single day. Dream doesn’t understand if she’s being serious when she’s like “hi bestie” so he keeps doing worse and worse wondering how much it’ll take to break her.

-gets therapy and takes antipsychotics now. Always brings up the stories of the wildest delusional episodes she’s ever experienced. During exile she was certain she had like 5 girlfriends at once.

-when she ends up trapped in jail with Dream she almost kills herself before Dream does it for her. The pain of being trapped with him again was worse than emotional. Worse than ptsd.

-has complicated feelings towards Quackity, will never forget the time she watched him and Schlatt argue. She’d never heard a “loving couple” sound that angry before. Though she doesn’t know every little detail about the relationship.

#dream smp #dsmp #clingyduo #cclingyduo #tommyinnit #Tubbo #there are definitely more but I was just throwing out ten for both of them

[j0kers-light]

Okay I had to send this in a separate ask cuz I had to go look up his name again for me to point the accusing finger but I think the mole is

NEO

Not only do I think he’s the mole, I SUSPECT he didn’t actually kill Florence!! I believe he’s doing his own crazy in love thing and has her locked up somewhere she cant get out. Like yes I know his text to Joker was vague on purpose, if authorities catch him it can’t just say “finished offing that girl boss 👍🏽” BUTTTTTTTT I think its pretty clear the Neo doesn’t just casually like Florence he may have been on his way to love with her. So I can’t see him killing her for the job ESPECIALLY when I think he’s the mole!

Also just here to air my grievances but I still don’t like Florence after the way she treated Light and while I don’t feel she deserved to be killed for it, I cringe every time Light expressed a desire to reconnect with her. Hopefully my theory is right and I’m not speaking ill of the dead but fuck her she was trifling and an asshole of a “friend”

Ooh! Pointing the fingers at Neo I see! Okay.. okay.. Not you thinking Florence is still kicking 🤣 you're the third person who suspects she's still alive omg.

Spoilers down below if you haven't read up to A Risk I'm Willing to Take ⚠⚠⚠

Yeah Neo's text to J was vague for that exact purpose, however, Joker called Frost and the Flo situation was finally discussed.

I see why you're pointing fingers at Neo, its his fault that most of this is happening, and he is in time out until he earns Joker's trust again. I can't say for certain if he really loved Florence or not due to his personality but uhhhh, that will be addressed in a future chapter.

Florence still has meaning to the plot despite her passing. It was a huge risk (hehe pun intended) to kill her off but she's a plot string that will tie everything together soon.

Now about your grievances...

Light/Y/n's ability to have normal relationships with people was damaged. She struggles with making friends and that desire to keep them, blinds her from seeing their toxic traits.

Y/n knows Flo was in the wrong and Florence used Y/n's vulnerability quite often. Flo was the high school cheerleader and Y/n the book club nerd. That dynamic never changed between them.

Y/n knows its not right but she clings to her childhood friend because that's the only person who knows her before her assault and has stuck by her.

Its gonna hit hard when Y/n finds out the truth.

#thanks for the ask! #keep sending theories #not me taking notes down for future chapters #his lighthouse

[happysparklingshadows]

𝚃𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛 + 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 (’96)

Warnings: Controlling behaviors, Financial abuse, Mental illness, smut, mentions of physical pain (Not intentional and from a sleepwalking moment)

Notes: Taissa is such a mean lesbian and I feel like we as a fandom need to give her more love because who doesn’t love ‘96 Tai? Btw I love this format! @zhivaxo​ @g1rlsriot

                   *.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*  

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

I think Taissa is a very dominant ChapStick lesbian and would like to do more masculine performances of affection. Taissa holds the door for you, protects you with her mean standoffish personality, and tries her best to provide. She grew up in a very middle-class traditional home with still-married parents and two younger siblings, and she wants to be like her mom, the more significant breadwinner in the household. She wants to become a high-paid prosecutor, and she would want you never to have to work again. She is a big BIG act of service and Verbal reassurance, so she does a lot of hard labor for you and wants to be told she is doing good by you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Taissa is very conflicted about how far she will go for you and how much her ambitions get ahead of her. Like how she was with Allie’s leg, I feel like Tai has a lot of pent-up rage inside of her for some reason that even she doesn’t know why she has. It would have to be other Tai getting their hands dirty, acting out all of Taissa’s subconscious urges of bloodshed. I don’t think it would happen often, only when someone threatens her profoundly because she usually relies on her sliver tongue to get her out of things with you.  

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Taissa would never kidnap you because she doesn’t want to have the consequences or social isolation of being a creepy person. However, she would mock you when you act like you are trapped with her. Because are you serious? Are you in bondage? Are you locked in a cage like how she wants to? No? Then fucking get over it, baby. 

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Taissa is overbearing and dominates your life in many ways. She will do things for you against your will as she files you into your license, she will let you cheat off her homework with her hovering over you to explain how to make it look like you did it all on your own, and she doesn’t let you solve any of your own problems. It’s a fucking godsend for you at the beginning of your relationship, but it becomes something of a problem when she starts fights with you and makes it about how you are being crazy. Taissa loves a good Gaslight. 

“Okay, so just make a little box in the corner and start writing the radio. So, Mrs. Goldberg can’t tell you’re coping.” Taissa says to you as she sets her homework beside your empty one. There is no judgment but just serious business in ensuring you didn’t get caught. 

“Thank you, baby, again. I just didn’t have time to do my homework last night because of my shift-”

“Don’t worry, pumpkin, I got you,” Taissa said as she kissed your temple, moving a hair behind your ear. She gently points to your writing and says, “Carry the two.” 

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Yes, she is very open but keeps certain things to herself. She doesn’t talk about her generational trauma with the man with no eyes, she doesn’t talk about the sleepwalking unless Tai has to or is forced by you, and she refuses to believe that the other Taissa is real. She didn’t want to accept she had problems because if Tai had any, she was fucking insane and destructive. Taissa is not doing her best and is not perfect, which fucking breaks Taissa apart inside. She doesn’t share that stuff. 

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Taissa is never wrong until proven wrong with rock-hard evidence, and she can’t believe you are fucking serious right now. She will simply double, triple, quadruple, and quintuple down because she doesn’t want to be wrong in a fight. She is the type to keep fighting even when Taissa knows she is wrong, but you don’t have enough evidence to prove her wrong, so she keeps fighting.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Taissa controls you, and she does so much for you that she doesn’t give a fuck if you are trying to leave her because you can’t. Try to find someone who will take care of you like her. She would use any means to keep you or manipulate you to anchor you to her. She came up in a very upper-middle-class family. If you were from a more similar to Natalie’s economic state, she would make you believe that you deserve how you are being treated because you are so lucky to be with her because of how much she can and does do for you.  Like, find someone who is going to buy you a car? Who can save all the money they make at their part-time job because their parents don’t need a dime from them, and they just buy you a fucking car because they just build up money for college? Or, more significantly, she would pay rent for your parents when they can’t make up this month because money is very tight. She would never outright hold it above you, but it is implied in the fabric of the relationship.   Even if you were in a better financial state than Natalie’s, Taissa would find a way for you to depend on her to provide for you. 

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

 Normal Taissa Never intentionally tries to hurt you physically or emotionally, but another Taissa is not ashamed to do any urge that subconsciously comes to her. Other Taissa would be physical and unwilling to listen to anything that you will say to them, which is quite terrifying, especially in the middle of the night in the wilderness. 

“Tai, Wake up, Please, wake up!” You beg her as she pulls you further and further into the dark woods. She blankly walks into the woods, letting you get hit by branches of trees as she naturally seems to duck; she ultimately lets you get hit by the wood. It has almost knocked a tooth out of your mouth, your lip is busted up, and a bruise is forming on your cheek. 

“Come.” She just says as she pulls you with a death grip on your wrist, not letting you go as she walks further into the woods. 

“FUCKING WAKE UP!! YOU’RE HURTING ME!” you cry as you pull her arm away from yours to no avail. It’s not working. She is pulling you to the cliffside. 

“He wants us here.” She stopped and stood in front of a tree. Her hands cup the sides as she starts to wake up. Taissa gasped as she felt how cold her feet were with the snow in-between her toes and her body without a coat. Her eyes are met with the same fucking symbol. 

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Traditional. Taissa wants to have kids and a dog, with a red house with a white fence. She grew up that way, and she wants to grow old that way. She doesn’t care to deconstruction the patriarchal or mystical aspects of what ordinary people see marriage as because, for Taissa, it is more of a confirmation of your championship being for life. Although controlling and manipulative, she doesn’t want you to be unhappy and try pretty hard to make you happy. 

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Taissa is very confident in herself and is not scared of anyone taking her away from her because she is very secure in herself. She doesn’t think Jealousy is very healthy and doesn’t let herself get jealous, and she does that by controlling who you hang out with and what you are doing. She trusts you and doesn’t think anyone is special enough to take her attention away from you. 

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Taissa tries her best to be good to you but isn’t the best because she is just a teenager. She treats you like her wife and doesn’t like the idea of being with another person. She loves you and only wants to be with you; she can’t imagine why you want anyone else. She treats you like you are her lover, but she doesn’t hold as much reverence as the other girls have for you. 

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Taissa took a while actually to approach you with anything other than friendship. You two were a part of the soccer team since freshmen year, but you didn’t have any classes together. You two weren’t very close, but Taissa always paused when she saw you, always having to look at your beautiful face. Once you two have classes together and have a moment to talk to each other, you two become closer until she finally asks you out. Once she is your friend, it will take her a few weeks. 

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from how they act around everyone else?

The two sides of Taissa are the most challenging thing for her to mask; her personality naturally masks many of her tendencies and darkness. The Snarky smart-ass way she held herself before the crash pushed people away enough not to see those things. But I don’t believe her showing or being more verbal about her darkness to you wouldn’t break her mask because it’s just something about being with Taissa. 

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Cold shoulder and eye rolls. Taissa thinks of herself as mature and calm but still a teenager. She doesn’t know how to talk healthily about her feelings, and she doesn’t want you to hate her, so she just becomes quiet and shows her displeasure with you at every chance she can get. 

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

A lot of them. She would make things very strict in your relationship, and she makes sure that you follow each one or else you will be at the end of hours of lectures from her. Or worse, you will start a fight and have a bad tonight. She gives you a schedule, rules like which hallway or jobs in the group you can do, and Tai doesn’t let you do your own things. 

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Taissa doesn’t have much patience for anything and uses that impatience to work towards her ambitions. She was raised in a home that only praised her or gave her the spotlight of attention when she was going her best and excelling. She was on top of everything for some reason, and it wasn’t because she was patient. It was because she puts so many fingers in many pies and quits when it gets too annoying and lengthy.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Taissa would literally stop. Taissa would just disappear, and other Taissa would keep her going. My headcannon is that other Taissa is a splitting of Taissa’s psyche that does the things that normal Taissa doesn’t want to do. Like is closer to the spiritual, does the hunt, and eats the meat. So I believe that if you died in the wilderness, Taissa would “move on” by her brain, not letting her feel it until she returned home. I feel like Taissa would never remarry or find a new partner because you were her wife after the events of the wilderness. 

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Fuck no. Taissa isn’t being as bad as she could be and doesn’t think she is being that bad. She doesn’t understand why you think you are “trapped”; the door is right there. But you both know you can’t because of more than just not wanting to be with her anymore; you no longer have the resources you have because of her, and it would ruin your life. 

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

She got this way because of her neuroses and upbringing. Taissa grew up with very healthy parents to each other but was controlling her every move, and she learned that her parents' hovering and expectations were love and care. She was given a tight school schedule, clubs, tutoring, piano lessons, and French lessons, and she was expected to be the perfect daughter. And Taissa fucking crushed it because of that pressure; her mother once said something about it, making Taissa a Diamond. She is a tough, sharp, and beautiful person because of all of her weight since she was young. Tai’s mother didn’t see an issue with parenting style because, after all, her grandmother did that to her mother, and she is a successful doctor, now Chief of Staff. So, to Taissa, being possessive, strict, and controlling is all an act of love. 

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

She is annoyed normally because she doesn’t know how to fix it. When it’s a moment of mutual sadness and vulnerability, she has no problem. It’s healing to cry together, but she is usually really not great with tears. 

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic Yandere?

Taissa is not verbal about her dark tendencies, which are very much kept to her chest. Because you are the same age as her, 18 years old, you just think these strict rules you both follow are because it’s how serious relationships work. I don’t think you would ever have the vocabulary to put together that she is a Yandere unless someone told you that those things are bad (bc it’s 1996 girl. These girls didn’t know what seasonal depression was) 

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit to escape?

Her ego and pride. Stroke either, and be kind to her; you can do anything. She doesn’t mind too much and allows you to do your own thing on your schedule, so you have plenty of opportunities to leave her. 

You moan as Taissa kisses down your stomach, and her fingers plunge in and out of you. Your legs are open and wide just for her to have all of you. You were wet because of her. Taissa smiles as she starts to lick down on your clit. 

“Fuck! Tai-” You pant as you try to stay quiet for the girls downstairs, “Yeah, just like that. You’re so good at eating pussy.” 

Taissa feels a surge inside her as she moves her tongue faster. She loved the praise and just wanted you to be pleased with her. She loved how you tasted and how you felt against her tongue. Your hands come to her hair, and you move them to her shoulders to not mess with her hair, and you claw your fingers into her shoulder. “Yes, ah~.” 

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Never intentionally; it doesn’t hurt you terribly when other Taissa doesn’t get physical. I see the other Tai grabbing and dragging you in the wilderness and letting you get hit by branches of trees, and she would drag you to where she could feel it. 

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Tai is like Van in that she reveres you as an angel figure. You are simply better than everyone else, and so is she. She thinks you are too good for this world and doesn’t like it when people try to silence your personality shine, and she doesn’t hold back from confronting anyone if they do that to you. 

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

She just didn’t get close to you for a while until you were meant to meet. It didn’t take her long to go for you when she knew you and became friends with you, and I would say she would take maybe a week of friendship to be like, “Okay, this is not just friendship.”

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

In the sense of independence of yourself, yes. But your will and your opinions, never that. 

Yandere Level

 7/10 (She is Controlling and very Territorial over you. She is good to you and loves you openly. But she does have problems that people outside of the relationship would notice.)

Freedom Level

 6/10 (You are not very free with your schedule and what you can do with your free will, but she doesn’t stop you from having your own opinions and hobbies. She doesn’t take your personhood away from you.)

Vanessa    ✿  Shauna

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