#you know how some people have a punchable face | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugarcoatedstarkey · 5 months

Note

hate sex. rafe or drew idc, u have total creative freedom w my suggestion!

Hate Sex

Pairing - Drew Starkey x costar!reader

Summary - good old hate sex.

Warnings - sexual intercourse, fingering, language, choking, name calling. 18+

The anger bubbled in your chest, rising up your neck leaving behind a dark pink tinge to your skin. You had never let Drew get to you this bad before, you were pulling at the roots of your hair just thinking about his punchable but good looking face.

“Breath Y/n” your friend stated, she had hidden herself behind the very small table in your trailer. She was quite frightened when you let your anger out.

She jumped halfway into the air when you threw your phone at the floor, shattering the screen in the process.

“Now look what that fucker has made me do!” You all but screeched, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to go and speak to him, how DARE he talk about you like that in an interview.

“Oh no no no, you can’t go speaking to him when you're this angry! He didn’t do anything wrong!” Your friend shouted, slamming her palm over her mouth when she realized what she let slip.

“How could you side with him?!”

“Oh come off it y/n, he said lovely things about you!”

“All very untrue things! He made me look like some weak girl who was falling at his knees.. no you know what I’m leaving!”

Before your friend could stop you, you darted out the trailer door and sprinted for him. Exactly 23 steps later your fist pounded at his trailer, you didn’t wait for him to answer and stormed in.

Drew stood in the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his lower half, steam filling the very small shower. Both Chase and Austin sat on the couch staring at you with wide eyes, the sound of the PlayStation in the background echoed through the deafening silence from the four of you.

“What’s up y/n?” Drew sang, giving you his famous boy next door grin. You just wanted to rip his face off but also kiss his face off.

“How dare you?!” You yelled, Drew’s eyes creased together in the middle as he looked at you in confusion. “Want to enlighten me on what I’ve done now sweetcheeks?” He chuckled, stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door. Your eyes dropped for only a moment when a bead of water ran down his chest and dissolved into the towel.

He gave you a knowing look that you shook off. “What’s all that shit you said in the interview?” You questioned, he let out a throaty laugh. Almost a cackle. This had you wild, you stormed towards him with curled fists at your side. “Don’t laugh! You made me out to be some weak girl, talking about how I’m the main person who laughs at your jokes on set, that I always get emotional at old couples!” You shouted, the old couple remark was true.

You did get emotional BUT that didn’t give him the right to tell people, it’s your personal life, personality. They get what they get, they don’t need to know the deeper version of you.

“Y/n, Come on. I wasn’t doing it out of spite” he stated, he was frustrated now. You always jump on him the second you can, yelling down his throat and making him feel like everything he does is wrong. “I honestly don’t give a shit! Don’t talk about me in interviews again!”

He rolled his eyes and looked over your shoulder at your friends, they had both gotten up ready to bounce. They hated being around when the two of you fought.

“Don’t roll your eyes! God! Drew you're so frustrating!”

“Me?! Me, frustrating? You talk some shit y/n, your always down my throat”

“Because you're always being so difficult!”

“Maybe you should lighten up a little and realize I’m a decent human being and your just angry at the world”

“Fuck you Drew”

“No, fuck you”

It happens in a split second, you're both reaching for each other. Your lips hastily press together, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His hands cup your jaw, your tongues fight with one another. Even kissing, you have to be fighting.

“That’s our que” you heard from behind you, but you didn’t want to pull away. One of his hands drops from your face, grasping onto your waist he pulls you closer to his body.

“You're still annoying” you breathe, his lips trail down your neck. Sucking at the flesh between your collarbone and throat. Your nails scratched down the length of his back leaving deep red lines.

“You're still a bitch” he bit, pushing you towards the couch. Your back met the cushion with a thump, his body trailed behind closely. Parting your legs so he could slot between them.

You had forgotten he was only in a towel, which now parted giving you the most glorious view of his thick hard cock. “Shit” you whined, practically forcing his body down on yours. His hands bunched up your dress to expose your cotton thong, his cock nudged at your pussy.

“How can someone so annoying be blessed with such a perfect cock” you spoke, his chuckle was muffled by the skin of your chest.

“How can someone so frustrating be so fucking hot” he commented, his mouth left kisses along the apex of your chest. You pushed yourself to sit up, pulling the material of your dress over your head.

You now sat in just your panties, his hands palming at your breasts. “Fuck you” you moaned, his teeth pulling your hardened nub. Suckling at your nipple, while the other hand grabbed your ass cheek. “I’m getting their baby” he whispered, the pet name sending shivers down your spine.

“Touch me”.

His fingers dipped under the material of your panties, sliding his pointer and forefinger between your fold and back up to your clit. “Oh shit, yeah like that” you cried, grinding your pussy into his hand. Slipping his two fingers into your cunt, you bite down on his shoulder as he finger fucked you. Pressing the palm of his hand into your clit at the same time, sending your body into overdrive. “You like that? Of course the little bitch likes to be fingerbanged hm? Been thinking about these fingers inside of you huh?” He grunted, brows creased in the middle. He watched your face intently, the way your mouth dropped opened and you gasped for more breath.

“Answer me!”

“YES yes oh fuck yes! Wanted these fingers in me since I met you” you screamed, his dick twitching at your statement. Your moans bounced off the wall and you were sure everyone could hear.

He abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, a slur of protest fell from your lips. “What the fuck Drew?!”.

“Get up and sit on my cock, quit whining and do what I say for once you little slut”.

The vulgarity to his words had your insides fluttering like a damn school girl, pulling your panties down and straddling his hips.

Reaching between the two of you to grasp his cock, giving him a rough few tugs. “Fuck… what I’d do to have your pretty little mouth around my cock right now.” He groaned, his head arched against the backrest of the couch. You began to slide off him, his hands catching your hips before you could get on your knees.

“Right now I want your tight little cunt to sit on my cock, next time I’ll stuff your throat with my cock and make you eat the angry words that you constantly spit out”.

Your ears pricked up at the next part, unbothered by the way he spoke to you. “Fuck you Drew” you spat, his large hand held the base of his cock for you. The tip of his bright pink head nudged at your opening, you took him in painfully slow. Your eyes rolling back as his cock stretched you wide, your hands pressed against his chest for leverage. “Oh-h… oh” you cried, his cock buried deep within your walls.

He gives you a moment to adjust, eyes staring hard at your expressions. The moment your eyes reopened he was bringing your body up and down on him harshly, causing a string of curse words to slip from your mouth.

Your tits bounced in his face, you finally brought yourself out of the sex daze you had fallen into and moved your hips, grinding against him roughly.

Your fingers wrapped around the base of his throat, his eyes were wild. Dark and full of lust, watching you gnaw at your lip. “That’s it pretty girl, fuck my cock like its best goddamn cock you’ve ever had”.

Your nodding your head in agreement, “the best fucking cock, so big” you cried, unaware you had just agreed to him. You were so drunk on dick, you had forgotten how much he irritated you.

“That’s right, best goddamn cock you’ve had. Show me how much you love it” he ordered, and you obliged. Riding him like your life depended on it, throwing your head back. Your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, his fingers grabbing your waist tightly.

“Fuck! Just like that!” He groaned, his hands caressed your back. Ducking his head to envelope your nipple into his mouth. “Yes yes yes yes yes” you mumbled, your bodies had a light sheen of sweat to it. “Move” he order, pulling you up from his cock only to spin you around. Pushing your knees into the cushion of the couch and thrusting his cock back into you.

“SHIT!” You cried, clawing at the back of the couch. His large hand pushed you down against the couch, putting one of his legs into the couch to give himself a better angle to fuck into you. “Yeah you like it rough huh”.

The angle of his cock had you in tears, overwhelming pleasure coursed through you. “Of course you like it rough, you’re a dirty angry slut” He could feel you where close, the way your pussy walls fluttered around him, reaching around to grasp your neck and pulling out of you. “DREW! You asshole” you cried, the pleasure that had building in your lower stomach fizzled out only to reignite when his fingers closed around your neck.

“Jump”

You did as order and wrapped your legs around him, he slipped his cock back into you. Moving you both just enough so your bum sat against the bench, ruthlessly he fucked into you. Squeezing his finger around your throat, your own hand coming around to grip his wrist, you screamed and cried in pleasure.

“You dirty little slut! Who knew you were more than just a whining bitch” he spat, pressing his lips to yours before you could fight back. Your fingers scratched up and down his back, the only way you could tell him he was an asshole.

“Drew” you warned, your pussy walls pulsating around his cock and you chased your high. “You're gonna come? Go on then pretty girl, come around my cock” he urges.

His hips move faster and deeper, dropping his finger between you to fondle your clit.

“Holy shit! Oh o-oh!” You cried, letting the overwhelming pleasure knock you over. Curling your toes and tightening your legs around him, your pussy pulsated around his cock. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders trying to ground yourself.

He wrapped her arm around your waist tightly and followed suit, coming deep inside of you. “Fuck fuck fucking hell”.

His sweaty forehead met your chest, both your breathing labored. A few moments of silent breaths go by and he pulls away from you, helping you down from the bench.

“This doesn’t mean I suddenly like you” you comment, stepping around him to collect your dress. Rushing into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

A few moments and words to yourself go by and you open the bathroom door; eyes searching the floor for your panties.

“Looking for these?” He questioned as you stepped out, holding onto your thong with his finger like a prize.

“Fuck you”

“Just did”

Taglist - @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @jjmaybankisbae

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pretty-little-mind33 · 9 months

Text

Maroon

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James isn't usually violent but he'll fight anyone who bad mouths his girlfriend.

Genre: Fluff, Short-ish? around 1,000 words

Warnings: mentions of a physical violence, descriptions of injuries and blood, insults, swearing, inspired by this picture bc 🥰

You were surprised when a drunk fifth year boy ran up to you in the middle of your study session with Remus saying your boyfriend had just beaten the shit out of someone at a party you'd asked him not to go to.

It was being hosted by some grimy, good-for-nothing, Slytherins that always found ways to get under James's skin. But, he never listened to you when it came to those things.

You storm into his dorm, eyelids tired from staying up in the library, and Remus follows you. "James Potter!" You exclaim firmly as you look around the room.

Sirius is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, while James sits on his bed. He's half laying on the headboard as he massages his palms. He's wearing an obnoxious black blazer with thick red lining, dark pants, and a white chemise with a loosened maroon tie. He looks handsome and ridiculous at the same time.

Your eyes lower to his hands and see his knuckles bruised as red as his clothes and when he sees you, he grins drunkenly. "Y/n!" He slurs as he sits up and his brown hair falls dramatically over his forehead.

"What did you do?" You ask, moving to sit next to him on the bed.

"You're so pretty." He mutters and he leans in to cup your cheeks and kisses them sloppily. Sirius chuckles as you push James away.

"You smell like beer."

"Yes, because I drank beer, love."

"What happened?" You ask Sirius this time as James falls back onto the headboard and smirks like an idiot.

Sirius just raises his arms as if he's innocent and drags Remus out of the room with him. As soon as the door closes, James attaches himself to your waist and you sigh. You forget how incredibly clingy he is when he's drunk.

You look at the small bruise on James's cheek as he rests his head near your stomach. You also forget how hot-headed he can be.

James sees you looking and says, "You should see the other guy," as if that makes it better.

"James. What happened." You repeat but find yourself running one of your hands in his hair as he turns onto his back and lays his head in your lap.

"Nothing." He mumbles stubbornly.

You roll your eyes and gently press your thumb onto his bruise and James winces. He shuts his eyes and opens one of them as he looks at your annoyed expression.

"I hate Slytherins." He says plainly.

"James."

"I hate some Slytherins." He mumbles a quick "most" under his breath but you ignore him and simply wait for a better explanation.

"You know the blond one? Weird nose. Punchable face?" He rambles, slurring his words a little, and you nod. "Well he was following me around all night, the little wanker."

"I told you not to go." You point out.

"Being such an annoying little shit. I was already ready to knock him out." He continues and you listen to him as you play with his curls, "And then he mentioned you." James's voice lowers.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." His jaw tightens.

"What did he say about me?" You ask curiously and James looks up at you. Clumsily, he reaches up to caress your cheek and his eyes soften adoringly.

"Don't you worry about that, my darling. I made him regret it." James grins and you feel a warmth spread across your chest.

"You don't have to fight people for me, Jamie." You say softly.

"Of course I do, I — "James drops his hand as his eyes jump around your face. He pauses a moment and he seems to have lost his previous thought, "Merlin, you're so gorgeous."

"Thanks, honey." You whisper and lean down to kiss his forehead, "But James, please be careful if you want to get into fights. I don't want anyone ruining that pretty face of yours." You kiss the tip of his nose.

"I'm always careful, Y/n." James sits up and he looks quite serious, "You should really see the other guy." He insists.

And he's right. The next morning, you and James walk into Transfigurations hand in hand. You had wrapped a small bandage around his knuckles and applied muggle soothing cream on the bruise near his eye.

You like pampering him the muggle way, the way your parents pampered you, and you love that he lets you.

Since James cleaned up nicely, he's grinning cockily and whispers in your ear, "Over there."

You look towards where he means and your eyes widen. A blond Slytherin is glaring at you and James, his fists shaking. He has a black eye, a swollen bruise on his cheekbone, and his lip is split open and barely healed. He obviously hasn't gone to the hospital wing.

"James!" You whisper back to your boyfriend, "How hard did you hit him?"

"Hard enough that your name will never leave his filthy mouth ever again." James says proudly as Remus and Sirius walk towards you both.

"Morning." Remus yawns.

"That piece of shit sure looks handsome this morning." Sirius remarks, slappingJames on the back. James returns the gesture as he laughs.

"Sirius!" You hiss, feeling slightly bad.

James kisses your cheek, "Relax, love. If he snitches I'll have to tell the Headmaster what he called you and I'm bloody persistent when it comes to demanding discipline for tossers like him."

You decide to relax a little.

You've known James and his friends for more than six years now and you've had to grow used to them getting into fights, or simple squabbles, with other students. Plus, you also know James is never violent for no reason. Whatever the Slytherin said must have been bad enough for him to lose his cool.

"My knight in shining armor." You tease and smile at him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"Always." He presses a quick kiss to your lips as Sirius and Remus pretend to gag and you giggle.

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choreom4nia · 10 months

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◜ 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ◞ : a collection of prompts from the 2023 animated film 𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀 based off the graphic novel by nd stevenson . adjust phrasing as desired ! not spoiler free .

go back to the shadows from whence you came !

if you want a happily ever after , you can never let your guard down .

hey , thinky face . look at me .

it's not what [ ] wanted .

i don't feel safe .

i'm not brooding ! i'm just - i'm thinking .

this is my thinking face .

you were better and worked harder than all of us .

but what if they still hate me ?

they're gonna love you . like i do .

did you think i was going to apologize for how i treated you ? oh my god , that's hilarious . you're so stupid , i love it .

some of us don't get the happily ever after we're looking for .

the garbage and the smell of sadness really pull the whole thing together .

wait , who are you ?

put that down !

okay , how old do you think i am ?

not a lot of kids in your life huh ?

i'm here about the job .

do you like it ?

every villain needs a sidekick .

sweet murder wall !

this guy looks extremely punchable .

you're right , he is extremely punchable .

are you saying you're not a villain ?

are you disappointed that i'm not a murderer ?

it's complicated , okay ?

i am not gonna get arrested !

i trusted you .

give me a chance !

because once everyone sees you as a villain , that's what you are .

they only ever see you one way . no matter how hard you try .

if you see anyone , hide .

that's a hard no .

something , something , something , we win !

did you see the way he looked at me ?

how could i promise you when i don't know what's about to happen ?

this is the part where you run .

you're a monster .

do not call me that !

why are you helping me ?

everybody hates you too .

i think what you mean to say is thanks for saving my life .

can you just be you please ?

i can't be seen with that !

you've been staring .

can you please just be normal for a second ?

easier for who ?

how did you get like this ?

that explains literally nothing .

you need to sit down . you're bleeding !

most people scream at that part .

i'm not people .

does it hurt at all ?

i've been through worse .

what does it feel like ?

i feel worse when i don't do it .

why did you set me up ?

they brainwashed you good .

arm chopping is not a love language !

it's how we were trained .

you should be questioning everything right now !

i've lost my mind . i've lost everything .

i never asked for that .

you lied to me about everything !

then you never knew me at all .

i've got you , kid !

i said i don't want to talk about it !

i don't need your help !

i don't know what's scarier : the fact that everyone wants to kill me ? or that sometimes , i just wanna let ' em .

we have to get you out of here.

we'll go , together .

no matter what we do we can't change the way people see us .

you changed the way you see me .

it's okay . you're safe . we're home .

let's live here forever .

i wouldn't be here if you'd stood up for me .

there is something i need to tell you .

i'm not the villain here !

i know ! i know . i believe you .

i'm sorry for everything .

we've been wrong about everything .

this was a mistake .

why can't you just leave me alone ?

because i love you .

tell me this isn't you .

where did you get that ?

you think that i would do that ? that that's who i am ?

think about everything that we've been through together !

you were using me !

you wanted them to see someone else to hate so you wouldn't be alone !

i want to hear you say it ! say it !

don't you wish you were normal ?

you know what you are !

innocent people will die .

what are we doing ?

what have i done ?

i'm sorry . i'm sorry .

i see you .

i see you . and you're not alone .

what if we're wrong ? what if we've always been wrong ?

be right back . i'm gonna go break some stuff .

it's time to rewrite the story .

come back . please come back .

maybe it's not the end of the story .

holy sh - !

#nimona prompt #rp meme #rp prompt #nimona rp meme #nimona rp prompt #movie rp meme #movie rp prompt #cannot explain the visceral way this movie slaughtered me #rp resource #nimona meme #mine *

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wen-kexing-apologist · 5 months

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ngl i am waiting for you to write about physical touch and HANDS in last twilight *insert manifestation circle.gif here*

Not gonna lie, as much as I have been enjoying Last Twilight, I haven't felt all that inspired to write about it, but it has been making me feel all warm and fuzzy now that people are reaching out and asking for my thoughts. Turns out people actually seem to enjoy my horrendously long posts!

Alright, I will talk about physical touch and hands in Last Twilight, but before I get too far in to it, I just want to say, I love the use of physical touch in shows, but I will dare to claim the use of physical touch seems particularly important, and especially complicated in Last Twilight, compared to most of the other shows I've written about. Why?

Because Day is blind, and Mhok is his caretaker, and if you are remotely aware of disability, the autonomy of disabled people, the privacy of disabled people, the survival of disabled people are often disrupted by abled bodied people. I saw a post somewhere, sorry I can't find it, where someone mentioned the rates of abuse of disabled people by their caretakers and how that might weigh in to Day's reaction to touching a shirtless Mhok in Episode 2.

So.

With Day's blindness, grief, and intentional isolation, as well as his family's anxiety, how much control has Day really had over his own life in the last year? As @bengiyo said in Episode 1, "Day's brashness in the interview when he asks Mhok if he's hot sounds like a gay man knowing that he is about to be touched a lot by a stranger" [not a direct quote, apologies].

Episode 1

gif from @dragonsareawesome123

The first physical touch we get between Day and Mhok is when Mhok touches Day's chin, making a comment that essentially boils down to Day having a punchable face. You can see how shocked Day is to feel Mhok's thumb on him. But the motion is quick, light, and slightly flirty (though maybe I'm reading a bit in to that last one since I know this is a BL). While Day seems taken aback, he doesn't seem uncomfortable with the touch at all, moreso, to me at least, he seems surprised that Mhok *isn't* shying away from touching Day after Day so loudly and blatantly declared his queerness and hit on Mhok.

photo from @thescrumptiousstuffs

The second physical touch we get is when Day leaves his car and winds up on the street with traffic whizzing past. Mhok pulls Day off the street when Day gets overwhelmed and Day goes crashing in to Mhok. I don't remember them staying pressed together for too long, but there is a moment where Mhok is embracing Day. Mhok's hands go to Day's hips while Day's hand rests on Mhok's chest near his collarbone. From my view, this is a decently intimate position for relative strangers, but they don't feel uncomfortable in it. Which is a great hint that Mhok and Day are going to become more to each other. Mhok does something here that I do think is important, which is to tell Day who is he, so Day knows he isn't being manhandled by a *complete* stranger. And though I suspect the biggest reason why Day ends up being driven home by Mhok is because Day wants to be away from Night, it cannot be denied that Day already has some modicum of trust in this random, crass man that burst in for an interview just the other day. Because, as we know, Mhok was really the only person who interacted with Day without falling victim to pity, inspiration porn, or infantilization.

The third physical touch I consider important is when Day's mother stops him from standing up. I've been reading @waitmyturtles PhD level thesis on Bad Buddy so filial piety and saving face is pretty present on my mind. I think it is important to acknowledge that Day does have some autonomy, but where he exercises it is very clear. He can leverage his blindness and his bad experiences with past caretakers to get what he wants out of his mother, and he can double, triple, quadruple the caretaker salary without consulting his mother. But when it comes to physical movement, he listens to his mother, but not to Night. Night tells him to stay in the car, and Day almost immediately leaves the car and goes in to the Society. Day gets out in the middle of traffic after a fight with Night, even after Night begs him to stay in the car. But that moment of challenge from Mhok where he tells Day to come get his ID himself, and Day starts to stand, everything stops dead in its tracks at the first light touch of his mother's hand on Day's chest. So, despite the moments of anger and rebellion we see from Day, he still listens to his mother.

gif from @dragonsareawesome123

And then Day moves to get his ID, and here is where I will mention a moment where there was not any touch. Which, probably could be an essay in and of itself, but I don't have the capacity at the moment, on this airplane, to comb through all the scenes and look for it. But here, this one feels important, because Day takes the ID from Mhok, but Mhok does not let go right away. Their fingers are so close, and in a lot of movies, the handing over of an item would usually involve some sort of moment where fingertips brush and a shockwave of electricity ripples through the future couple. But we don't get that here. The moment of connection, the moment that Day really knows he can trust Mhok, the moment Day decides he is going to hire Mhok has nothing to do with touch, and everything to do with sound. He hears Mhok read Chapter 21 of The Little Prince, a book that is desperately important to Day, and that is that. And I do think it is important that these little touches that we've had, and where we break from the romance tradition for touch are important. Because, I think it is totally fine for feelings to grow between Mhok and Day rather quickly, but I do not think it would have been wise to show Mhok having some sort of actual crush on Day from the beginning. If Mhok had some sort of romantic or sexually attractive feelings for Day before he started working there, that would, in my opinion, read as predatory in some sense. Especially looking ahead to Episode 2, when Mhok is shirtless in Day's room.

Because, the thing about physical touch in television is that a lot of different elements go in to selling it as romantic chemistry. One of the most important components is timing and close up. As a side note, I think timing is a huge factor in to why I did not enjoy Perth and Chimon together in Dangerous Romance (before I dropped it) because the camera just never lingered long enough on their faces or on their touches for me to believe they had feelings for each other. But, by Episode 3 of Last Twilight I can see the care and the chemistry between Mhok and Day. I can see the comfortability that Mhok and Day have from almost the very beginning of knowing each other, but I don't take much of their physical interactions to be sexually charged or romantic in Episode 1. Why would they be? These two don't know each other. By generally avoiding zooming in on just Day and Mhok's hands when they touch, by having Mhok grabbing Day's chin with his thumb quickly and lightly you aren't building to tension. Aof is merely demonstrating that physical touch between Day and Mhok is welcomed and Day is not going to be uncomfortable with having Mhok take care of him.

So we head in to Episode 2 with the understanding that there is some fundamental aspect of Mhok that Day is drawn to, and that Mhok and Day are going to get along.

Episode 2

Now, as much as I have loved the rapidly developing relationship between Mhok and Day, I do kind of wish we had had a full episode's worth of two angry, grieving people coming head to head. But, regardless, Aof handles the transition between casual touch and Something More with expert precision. Unsurprising, considering his oeuvre.

gif by @mooninaugust

So we get absolutely my favorite touch moment to date in Episode 2 with the absolutely terrible secret handshake between two blind people. I love how Mhok is witness to this moment of excitement and friendship between Day and Aon, and that we are too. Because it shows us where Mhok currently stands in Day's hierarchy of relationships. Mhok at the beginning of Episode 2 is still an acquaintance, some dude they hired because he cursed the family out and read The Little Prince during his interview process. The cut scene between Mhok saying Day might not want to see him, and Aon and Day hugging and doing their stupid loser handshake (I love them) shows Mhok and the audience that Day does have joy within him, and that Day is starting to build friendship and connection within his new (read: blind) community. We won't know until a little later in the episode how much Day has been cutting himself off from his old life, but for the time being Mhok knows his place in Day's life.

And Aon picks up on the fact that there is *something* even if it is not necessarily romantic there between Mhok and Day, again not by seeing anything physical between them because a) Mhok and Day did not touch in front of Aon and b) Aon would not have been able to see it anyway. But instead calls out the fact that Day has never talked about a single one of his caregivers before. We know now (and definitely should know already) that Mhok is different from other people Day has engaged with since he started going blind. We just haven't had time for their relationship to mature.

photo from @thatgirl4815

If I recall correctly, the first physical touch between Mhok and Day we get in Episode 2 is when Day accidentally touches Mhok's titty while searching for the eye drops. You can see Day recoil in shock a bit and he questions Mhok almost immediately as to why his shirt is off. Mhok is incredibly matter-of-fact in explaining that Day said he didn't like the smell of cigarettes, so he took his shirt off so as not to stink up Day's room (we can ignore the fact that he would still smell like cigs, but we ignore it For The Vine) and Day relaxes and makes some sort of annoyed comment. Again here, there is no romantic attraction in this rather intimate touch. I mean, this is Mhok's what? Second or third day? Mhok and Day barely know each other, Mhok is constantly fucking up the Whole Routine because he isn't communicating with Day about what Day's needs are, and here he is in his employer's room having his pec fondled. This is supposed to read as funny, and ultimately I think it does, but it doesn't read as romantic, and it definitely should not. What has Mhok done up to this point that would cause Day to have Genuine Romantic Feelings for him? Nothing.

photo from @moonchildridden

Again, the first hint that feelings may be approaching comes outside of the touch, with Mhok seeing how excited Day is to use those few precious seconds of better vision to watch his goldfish. And even moreso, it's not just the action that I think start the train rolling, but the conversation that Mhok has with Day where he asks if the goldfish is lonely. Mhok is able to con Day in to leaving his room by leveraging the health and safety of one of the few things Mhok has seen Day care about and connect with in the short time they've known each other. Day gets outside for the first time in god knows how long, to find that the jasmine is in bloom and to have a lovely conversation with Mhok about it. Mhok asks about Day's vision, how he sees, what he can see, and he tries to adapt to Day's necessary distance requirements. Day of course, has his head turned away and thus does not see Mhok coming in to Day's eyesight range, and bumps his nose against the top of Mhok's finger.

This little, accidental movement is one of my favorites of the episode, mostly because it opens up the conversation where Day asks what Mhok is doing and Mhok asks if Day wants to see his face. And this scene establishes exactly what I mean about timing as it relates to building sexual tension. Day ponders for a moment, the camera lingers on his face, the audience begins to feel like Day is caught off-guard, like maybe he does have some sort of crush on Mhok and he does want to see his face. Only for Day to break that tension right before it gets awkwardly long and tell Mhok he does not. This is closer to the shit that friends would pull. And thus we see that in a very quick period of time Mhok is becoming more important in Day's life as a waypoint. He is listening to Mhok, he has a slight bit of banter going with Mhok when they watch a movie, and even after Day fires Mhok (for the physical touches I will talk about next) Mhok's influence on Day's general day to day (haha) existence is clear in the fact that Day is sitting on the couch and trying to pick a movie entirely independently of anyone.

Things are starting to go smoothly, when Day's friends show up asking when he got back from America. Day panics at the unexpected arrival of friends who seem not to know about his condition, spills his popcorn, and falls to the floor, where he is desperately scrambling to get back on his feet and Get The Fuck Out. Mhok tries to help him up, but he's pretty quickly brushed off. This is the first time we see Day reject a touch from Mhok. Knowing what I know now about where we end up in Episode 3, I am realizing how important this entire scene (from Day tripping to Mhok getting fired) is for establishing a comparison point for change. Because the unwanted touch continues when Mhok breaks in to Day's room, also in a panic when Day is bathing.

gif by @btwinlines

We get such a juicy moment of Mhok and Day's trauma clashing with each other in a way that is unintentionally terrible all around. Day does not know about Mhok's backstory, Day does not know that by putting in his headphones and intentionally ignoring Mhok he is accidentally triggering Mhok regarding the death of his sister. Mhok knows that Day is upset, but only hears the room fall quiet, he does not know that Day is in the bathtub (read: naked) when he comes barging in. Again, to reference the post whoever it was made that talked about the rates of abuse/assault of disabled people by caregivers, this is a horrifically vunerable position that Day finds himself in. Mhok is far enough away from Day's range of vision for Day to see him immediately duck behind a wall to give Day privacy while he wraps himself in a towel. And before Day can really process what is happening, with both his emotions and Mhok's running high, Mhok is grabbing at Day's wrists to check them for cuts. A beautiful (and terrible) detail.

Personally, I do not think anyone's reaction to that situation is wrong, but it does give Day a second round of extremely uncomfortable and unwelcome touching from Mhok, when he's already escalated, and trying to process the fact that Mhok just barged in to his room while Day was naked and got a little peek. Here Day demonstrates that he does have autonomy, and that Mhok respects that autonomy with Day firing Mhok after two particularly awful physical interactions, and with Mhok not even saying a word in protest and just accepting his termination and leaving the house.

photo from @thescrumptiousstuffs

Now. Mhok isn't completely going out fighting, and Mhok I think has really started to realize that he cares for Day (even if he doesn't necessarily have feelings at this point) because of how badly he was triggered by Day falling silent. Mhok is a thoughtful person and respects Day's boundaries by sending Porjai to the house instead of going himself. Much to Day's chagrin, because the second the doorbell rings, you can see this hopeful look that maybe Mhok is going to walk through that door. Porjai hands Day the present Mhok bought him, and Mhok does hold the slippers close, but he relies heavily on his hands to feel the slippers to figure out what they are and what they look like. He knows immediately that Mhok has been paying attention and trying to get to know Day immediately because the slippers solve the problem Day has had with hitting his feet on furniture corners, and the slippers look like goldfish, one of the few things Day has seemed to care about since knowing Mhok.

Beyond the fact that I think Day already felt bad about what happened the other day and regrets firing Mhok, this really does demonstrate to Day that people still care about him, want to get to know him, and understand that adaptation is a constant in Day's new reality. But Mhok takes it further, by committing to the motherfucking bit to understand Day better.

Aside: I fucking *love* Aof for how often his stories focus on the overlooked or disenfranchised people, and I think that while it is going to be a feat for Last Twilight to become my favorite Aof piece considering how important Moonlight Chicken is to me, the backstories of Mhok and Day and the way they inform character decisions is perhaps my favorite of all of the shows I've seen of Aof's. I *love* the conversation that Mhok and Aon have where Aon says Day is scared of being looked at and judged by people, and how Mhok is like "why?" because he has spent the last year a visible criminal, trying to get a job, and being constantly rejected for exactly the reason he thinks. Mhok has spent so much time and energy over the last year trying to reintegrate himself in to society, while Day has spent so much time and energy over the last year trying to remove himself from society as completely as he can. Even if I am not sure that he believes it wholly, I do think Mhok understands that he isn't an inherently bad person because he was locked up, but that he is a victim of circumstance, and yet even reformed from his truancy past, Mhok found it impossible to get a job because people stopped caring about him as a person the second they saw his ankle monitor. Thus, Mhok knows exactly what it is like to be written off, to be abandoned, to be forgotten and I think it is for precisely those reasons that Mhok decides to spend the time and effort to understand the world that Day is living in.

The ankle monitor has served as an embarrassment for Mhok in such a way that I truly do not think Mhok is concerned about seeming like a complete and utter fool. And even so, he starts to understand the fear that Day is living with existing as a blind person in public, because Mhok is extremely used to seeing what people think of him without them having to say anything, and now he has no idea.

gif by @btwinlines

Which I think is a good segue in to the next physical touch we get, which is Day feeling Mhok's face in the marketplace after he asks Porjai to take him there. Again, the distance of the camera, the timing of the movement does not come off as romantic, at least to me. But it does come off as comfortable. I think Day is fucking with Mhok a little bit when he touches his face, and we don't actually acknowledge or get any conversation around the way Day has just demonstrated what it feels like to be touched without warning.

And YET AGAIN Aof has their bond strength not through touch, but through conversation. Because they aren't falling for each other yet, they are still learning about one another. And so they have a conversation where Mhok apologies and Mhok explains what he was trying to do and Mhok identifies what it is that makes Day so afraid of being in public. And we end Episode 2 with Mhok being re-hired as Day's caregiver. But wait!

Remember the last touch we get in Episode 1 is not a touch at all, it's Day taking his ID back from Mhok. Well, the last touch we get in Episode 2 is not a touch at all, it's Day throwing his hands to the sky on the back of Mhok's motorcycle and letting the wind hit his face. It's Day sitting on the complete opposite side of a glass tank, and using his moment of improved vision to catch a glimpse of Mhok. They aren't touching, yet we end the episode with the understanding that Day and Mhok have strengthened their relationship and are on the fast road to friendship. Personally, I feel like it is extremely responsible of Aof to not treat touching a blind person or having a blind person touch you as inherently romantic, and to have the more stomach swoopy moments come from actions and observations entirely devoid of touch. But, I'm not blind so I don't know how much something like that might actually matter to blind people who are engaging with this story.

Episode 3

IT IS TIME FOR FEELINGS!

There are so many physical touches in this episode. The first we get is Mhok unwrapping a bandage on Day's foot, with Day looking extremely at peace with the action. The second we get is Mhok kind of poking at Day and then jokingly moving to pick Day up when he refuses to start cleaning his room. Day doesn't seem like a person generally fond of man-handling, but you can tell very easily that Mhok is just fucking with Day because Day fucked with Mhok. We are witnessing friendship! Which persists throughout the entire episode.

photo by @athousandbyeol

I like too that Mhok using the blindfold to better understand Day is not a one and done situation. Again there are a few friendly touch moments that do not at all read as romantic.Mhok steals Day’s sunglasses and is perfectly at peace with Day feeling up his face to try to see if the sunglasses Mhok is wearing are his; and when Mhok's hand envelopes Day's when they are trying to guess the shirts in Day's closet by feel alone. Day does not tense up, he doesn't suck in a breath, he doesn't really let that touch linger. He shakes it off quickly and is like "that's my hand". And again, as an aside (I hope this does not come across inappropriately but) I kinda like that Mhok is almost gamifying Day's blindness. What I mean by that is that Day and Mhok are engaging in friendly competition to see who can accurately guess the article of clothing. It seems like a great way to bring some joy and levity to helping Day get better at understanding his surroundings without the use of his vision.

I am an absolute sucker for couples in shows that have an established friendship beforehand. I don't mean friends to lovers necessarily, but too often in BLs I have noticed that romantic interests are only ever that and we don't get a lot of moments of stupidity, tomfoolery, and fun. So you better believe I was living my best life in the next physical touch scene when Day and Mhok are fighting with the dinosaur costumes on. And this is where the physical touches start to change, because we start without physical touch and end with it, where we have up until this point been ending every moment of connection and relationship progression ending without touch.

gif by @raypakorn

For the dinosaur fight, we get the non-romantic, entirely platonic assistive touch of Mhok helping (poorly) to guide Day to the driveway (this fucker was so ready to wrestle he forgot to tell Day to mind the stairs at first lmfao). The actual point of connection starts with Mhok intentionally trying to dive out of the way of Day’s touch. And once again Mhok Day’s blindness to elevate a game between them, by clapping and then diving out of the way to try to avoid Day’s movements. But that avoidance of physical interaction very quickly devolves in to a wrestling embrace, laughing, having fun, and then settling on the ground to chat until Day hears his mother’s car and they run back inside to hide the evidence of childish glee.

Day’s mother returns to find a very different Day from who she left, he’s out of his room, he’s eating in the dining room, he’s seeming much more confident in his ability to navigate around the house. And of course, she has to go and ruin the moment by pushing too quickly on a nerve about going back to school. Day wants to withdraw from school and he needs to go in person.

Now.

We have seen Day taking massive strides in his own healing process in the last few episodes because he is starting to ask for help when he needs it, and Mhok is getting better at caretaking because he is started to ask if Day wants help for certain tasks or if Day is going to do them himself, thus allowing Day to set his limitations. Knowing that Day is going in to school, he asks Mhok to help him fix up his hair, and we get the first of many more crush-level physical touches in the show.

gif by @jimmysea

I’m not Thai, so forgive me if this is wrong, but I am pretty sure that in Thai culture the head is considered sacred and having people touch your head carries a significance that I do not think Western audiences really understand (speaking as a Western viewer). If this is indeed true, then the scene where Mhok is fixing Day’s hair gets even more intense, even when there is a clear change in Mhok’s view of Day from friendly to starting to see something more. Mhok even makes a comment about how Day is a stunner (or something) when his hair is done, and when Mhok asks Day if he likes it and Day returns the question, there is a pause that is not at all dissimilar to the pause Day had after Mhok asked him if Day wanted to know what Mhok looked like.

But where the tension from Episode 2 when Mhok asks the question is broken in a way that makes it seem more like Day is just teasing, I don’t think Mhok’s deflection of “it’s alright” really returns the same level of dismissal. Because Mhok is starting to realize something about the way he is feeling for Day.

We get the inside of the Thai subway for the first time in maybe ever? As Mhok and Day make their way to Day’s college. And thus the not-a-date-kind-of-a-date adventure begins. Day is clinging on to Mhok’s arm as they navigate on to the subway car, at which point Mhok breaks off from Day to try to ask for a seat for Day. But Day grabs him and pulls him back, choosing instead of hold on to Mhok’s arm. Like I have been saying, Aof has been doing a really great job at differentiating the types of touches, and up until this point, the more intimate touches between Mhok and Day, such as when Day feels Mhok’s titty in his bedroom or Mhok’s face at the market, don’t read as romantic, because Day is taking in information to supplement his vision. Similarly, the moments where Day is holding on to Mhok for assistance in environmental navigation, such as when Mhok helps guide Day to his professor’s office or helps him down the stairs the physical touch is matter-of-fact on both ends.

photo by @athousandbyeol

But here, in the subway, we get the first instance of physical touch from an environmental navigation standpoint that reads more like a man who is developing a crush rather than Day just being guided…

…but that comes from Day, not from Mhok. Which I appreciate massively from the standpoint of ensuring that Mhok as the caretaker does not appear to be taking advantage of Day. In the subway, Day could have sat down, he didn’t need to stay standing, he didn’t need to continue holding on to Mhok. But he chooses to do that. He chooses to keep his arm linked tightly with Mhok’s, he chooses to get a little flirty with Mhok when he says as long as Mhok stays close to him, that’s all Day needs. And we get the close up of Mhok and Day’s hands when Mhok moves to tap Day’s hand gently, and the shot lingers. Because things are starting to change.

I said in a previous reblog last week when Episode 3 came out that Aof does this really interesting thing in his direction and cinematography when characters share intimate moments, in that he breaks from his standard visual format. The lighting often changes, the camera isn’t held as steady, the moments are zoomed in much closer than we are used to. We get it with Heart and Li Ming playing that spider game with their fingers the night that Li Ming sleeps over and we get it in the subway when Day stumbles slightly and swallows hard, embarrassed and avoiding eye contact while Mhok looks at Day kind of fondly.

gif by @taeminie

So we see the spark in the subway and then watch that spark begin to catch when they end up in the dressing room together. Day and Mhok both establish that they have never been in a dressing room with another person to cut the tension and nerves a bit. Afterall, this is the first time that we’ve seen where Mhok is getting up close and personal with Day’s partially nude body, when they are both calm, collected, and not amidst a panic attack about a potential medical emergency. No one is feeling violated, no one is feeling scared, no one is having their privacy forcibly removed from them. But that makes them all that more aware of how they are feeling, physically, when they are touching and being touched.

And we get a secondary Aof Camerawork Moment where the style of shot changes and we get that gorgeous zoom in on Mhok’s hands and Day’s chest when Mhok helps Day back in to his shirt. And isn’t it wonderful that the most sensual and intimate moment that we have seen from Mhok and Day so far is putting Day’s clothes back on?

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Check out @btwinlines’ post about this scene.

Day and Mhok continue their day, find the Last Twilight book, and are hanging about the market where Mhok leaves Day standing against a pole while he runs to grab a drink. As a result, we get a bombardment of physical touch, the most overwhelming to date because Day is getting just absolutely shunted around, bumping elbows and shoulders with the people at the market with no idea of where he is or where he is going. And this is where we really get an understanding of how terrible physical touch can be when you don’t have any bearing of your surroundings and can’t see where people are coming from or anticipate contact.

We got a scene in Episode 1 where we see how dangerous being blind has the potential to be, but Day isn’t being touched by anybody at that point until he is pulled off the street by Mhok. But this time while Day does have a moment where he is in more physical danger because he stumbles on to the street, he is relatively much more safe getting lost in the marketplace than when he ran out on to the street in Episode 1, cause the few cars that are present are moving slow and know to be looking out for pedestrians. Day is grabbed and directed by random strangers who are trying to help him and kind of just…drag him along until he is out of the street when he is visibly panicking and then just…left on the side of the road with an offhanded statement from strangers that he is “safe now” and they just…leave him alone and continue on their way. Even there, with a helpful touch, there is no safety or comfortability in Day’s posture, he is not calmed by hearing that he is safe. Which serves as a really great comparison point for how comfortable Day has pretty much always been with Mhok (minus the one moment of severe dysregulation after being surprised by his friends and then by Mhok when Day was buck ass naked).

Especially when compared to the relief that just rushes through Day’s body when he and Mhok are reunited and they embrace.

AND LIKE OKAY, CAN I GO ON A BRIEF TANGENT TO TALK ABOUT THE PINK SHIRT?

gif by @tomystars

You know how in a lot of romances you get that moment where you get the like, love at first sight thing? Time slows down, one half of the romantic pair picks the other half of the romantic pair out of the crowd? WE GET THAT HERE, WITH THE BLIND CHARACTER BEING THE ONE WHO PICKS THE FUTURE LOVE INTEREST OUT OF THE CROWD.

The pink shirt is brilliant, and I love how it both acts as an anchor point for Day who is able to calm down upon seeing it, and not panic or freak out when being grabbed and embraced by Mhok after having a decently traumatic experience with physical touch just minutes before while also reaffirming that Mhok is learning and internalizing the adaptations he needs to incorporate in to his own life to make Day’s daily life easier and more accessible. Mhok understands how Day’s vision functions, he remembers that Day has said he could see that shirt from Mars it’s so bright, and he provides an in for Day to maintain his autonomy by making it possible for Day to potentially see Mhok before Mhok sees Day.

ANYWAY

@athousandbyeol

The embrace they share when Day and Mhok are reunited is not charged, is not romantic, at least not to me. But what it does show is how much care Day and Mhok have for each other, how quickly their friendship is developing, and the safe spaces these two will find in the other. Day calms so quickly the second he and Mhok are touching, as soon as he has an anchor. And he won’t let go of Mhok either.

Aof and co have been playing well with dichotomies, here, a situation that pulls Day and Mhok physically apart ends up bringing them emotionally closer together. It is clear that Day does not blame Mhok for what happened, even if Mhok was gone much longer than anticipated, and that is affirmed by Day defending Mhok to his mother when she questions Mhok’s caretaking skills and holds his criminal record over his head.

And, let’s not forget, this is just writing about the physical touch, this post does not discuss whether or not the lack of touch is important. I wrote a decent chunk of this in the airport without wifi, so I could only talk about physical touch from memory, I didn't rewatch anything like I normally do, so apologies if I missed stuff.

#last twilight #last twilight the series #last twilight meta #last twilight analysis #jimmysea #mhokday #mhok x day #morkday #mork x day #physical touch in last twilight #sorry for the delay anon I know you sent this ask the other day #but fun fact it does take me an ungodly number of hours to write things so I hope you did not feel ignored #wka long post

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yanxidarlings · 4 months

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"they say the wizarding elite aims to have heirs within a few years of each other, so that when they begin attending hogwarts, they can form a gang, a clique, whatever it is, to represent the prosperity of the pureblood circle, to uphold the values of the sacred twenty eight" "didn't nott's grandfather write that list?" "no- well, yes, his father did. but the idea of the wizarding elite predates it. the slytherins have had their heads stuck up their arses since 990 a.d — salazar slytherin himself is who we have to thank for the glorification of pure blood — and so centuries of inbreeding has led to what we now know as the slytherin elite" "so it's like the wizarding nobility then?" "not.. exactly. it used to be, many family's from the sacred twenty eight used to hold very real titles and power, but when the magical government became centralised in the 1700's, they were given hereditary seats on the wizengamont to keep them happy, but the power they once held slowly faded — that was around the time when the concept of slytherin gangs began" "merlins beard, they've been at this for nearly three hundred years? haven't they run out of purebloods to inbreed with yet" "some have, that's why you don't see any gaunts, beowulf's or volants in the group-" "if i'm being honest, they all look like the same stuck up gits, you absolutely positive some pureblood lady didn't just pop out fifteen of them at once" "there's only nine, malfoy and zabini are pretty distinguishable from the others, but you do have a point, i'd bet my left leg they're all at least fifth cousins" "how do you know so much" "i read you know, and people watch" "a'right then, which one is which" "why do you want to know so much? that's... caster rosier, best avoid him, apparently by the third year he had dated all of slytherin house" "you're kidding, right" "and then he moved on to hufflepuff and ravenclaw, but i suppose that's what happens when rita skeeter raises you" "rita skeeter? poor bloke" "and he does nothing but gossip, we once had to work together for a potions project and i mentioned that i had a cough and he started a rumour that i had mono" "i take that back, stuff him" "and he's supposed to be one of the nice ones. the one sitting next to him, pollux black, is the biggest prick i've ever had the displeasure of meeting, bumped into him once on my way to herbology, the bloody bastard has had it out for me ever since, calls me every foul word you could imagine, told me i was better off dead, i think i'm the reason he's started bullying you as well" "i thought i was getting bullied by one of the riddles" "you probably are — if he hits, it's mattheo riddle, if he snitchs, it's draco malfoy, if he's rude, it's pollux black, if he ignores, it's blaise zabini, and if he smokes, it's theodore nott. berkshire, greengrass and rosier are the 'nice ones', by slytherin standards" "which is the one with the punchable face?" "eulalio greengrass" "i was paired with astoria greengrass in transfiguration the other day, and messed up the spell, which cost us the grade, you know what he did when she went crying to him? broke my fucking wand" "i thought you said you stepped on it-" "he threatened to have me kicked out of hogwarts if i told anybody!" "that's just how those people are, think they're above everyone else because of their blood status and house. i think berkshire is the only one with redeemable qualities" "which one is that" "are you faceblind-"

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sinningforrory · 1 year

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stupid // stan uris smut

a/n: hey everyone! it's been so long since i've posted and a lot of people have been sending me requests but since my first and only fic i've uploaded on here has gained 1,000 notes i thought i'd gift you guys this fic as a thank you. i'm gonna try and upload a lot more now because i appreciate so much the love my writing gets fr thank you guys so much. hope you enjoy and as always, reblogging really helps me out so if u enjoy, pls don't hesitate!

WARNINGS: dom!stan, submissive!bratty!reader, slight choking, mention of drugs (if you squint) SMUT, majorly NSFW minors please dni, thank you!

WORD COUNT: OVER 6K

SUMMARY: Your parents best friends' son. The picture perfect grade A student of the perfect suburban family. And a cocky douchebag. You hated him. But, since you both got into the same college, Stan has been making it clear that he definitely does not hate you...

Stanley. Even his name irked you. I mean, who in their right mind births a beautiful baby boy and names him Stanley. What a stupid name. It fits him though, that’s for sure. Stupid Stan with his stupid family and his stupid friends and his stupid studying. He was just so stupid that you wanted to bash his brains in any time he so much as breathed around your presence.

Of course, he hadn’t necessarily done anything to warrant your intense hatred towards him. He just irritated you. You were Jewish too so you’d always see each other at the Synagogue and your parents were enamoured by Stan’s stupidness. They saw it as ‘perfection’ instead though. They were always bothering you about how you should ‘aim to be more like Stan’ or ‘Stan’s parents told me he got an A in this class. So why are you getting a D?’ He drove you insane. You weren’t Stan, you weren’t stupid like Stan so why couldn’t your parents just love you for you instead of comparing you to that stupid, stupid boy.

Due to your parents being very good friends with Stan’s family, you saw each other a lot more than you’d like. And every time you were there you took every opportunity to be nasty to Stan just to wear off some steam. But that made it even worse. It wouldn’t matter if he was a dick to you too. But no. He’s NICE to you. And you know he’s doing it on purpose to get on your nerves because every time he compliments your hair and sees you glaring knives into his eyes, he does a subtle smirk to himself as if he’s fucking won this silly little game you play. He knows he’s driving you insane and he’s proud of himself for it. What a fucking douche.

It had always been this way. Stan irritates you, you’re a bitch to Stan, Stan eats it up, Stan irritates you, blah, blah, blah. It was an endless cycle of hate.

However, something had flipped in Stan the summer before you both left for college. Luckily enough, you’d both managed to get into the exact same ivy league as each other so you would be stuck with Stan for the next four years. When you found out you immediately wanted to bash your head into a wall repeatedly until you woke up from this absolute nightmare that was Stanley Uris.

The news that you had both gotten into an ivy league warranted a celebratory party for the both of you. The idea from your lovely mother, of course, and at said party, Stan was acting a lot stranger than normal. So strange to the point where you were currently hiding in the bathroom with your back against the door breathing heavily as if he was chasing after you and about to knock the door down with an axe.

It started in the garden. You wore a white summer dress with tiny yellow flowers scattered among it. Stan was looking very punchable in cream khakis and a navy polo. Unbuttoned, of course, because he could never look TOO tidy. You stood by the refreshments, sipping a virgin pina colada when Stan strutted his way over with a teasing grin on his face, ready to ruin your relaxed mood.

‘So, I guess we’re going to college together. It seems you really can’t escape me, can you, y/n?’ He leaned against the table next to you, taking a sip from his beer. You glared up at him, already infuriated by the fact that he was leaning down with you stood up straight next to him and he was still taller than you.

‘Oh please, Stanley, don’t pretend to be so happy about this when we both know you are just as excited about this as me.’

He gasped in mock surprise before laughing softly at the frown on your face, ‘Oh, come on, princess, you know you love me. I guarantee that you would miss this adorable face as soon as you knew you couldn’t see me anymore.’

He smiled at you gently before moving his sunglasses up to rest on his curls and taking a sip of beer.

You moved to stand in front of him, making a move to leave the refreshments and flee to your room (or anywhere away from Stan). ‘Bite me, Uris.’

‘If you insist, princess.’ He smirked at you and folded his arms over his chest, his muscles straining under his polo.

Your eyes widened slightly, shock evident on your face at his words. He had always been overly saccharine with you but he had never flirted with you so boldly. Shaking yourself out of your daze, you scoffed before walking off with your pina colada into your kitchen for some snacks.

5 minutes later, you were still stood in front of your fridge, supposedly searching for food but instead, you found yourself staring off into space. You could not scratch that smug image of Stan out of your brain, his words engraving themselves into your memory, messing with your mind.

Worst of all, you found yourself repeatedly wondering why you liked what he had said to you. Pulling yourself together, you closed the fridge door but immediately jumped as you saw Stan standing right where the fridge door had been resting.

‘You look a little lost, princess, is everything okay?’ He was stood so close to you that your chests were half an inch away from touching. You gazed into his eyes for half a second before realising what you were doing and coughed before putting some distance between the two of you.

‘Uh-uhm, I’m fine thank you, Stanley. Just couldn’t find what I was craving.’

He nodded his head understandingly before taking a step forward so you were nearly chest to chest once again. ‘What exactly are you craving, y/n?’

He hadn’t meant to sound so enticing, or maybe he had, but the way he said that with his gravelly voice and his tiny smirk made your thighs involuntarily clench together.

‘E-erm, just some guacamole dip. My mom always hides it from me though because she knows I’ll eat it all before the other guests can have any.’ You fiddled with the hem of your dress, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front of you. What had gotten into you, why was he making your confidence dissipate so easily and why were you suddenly acting like a nervous school-girl?

Stan’s eyebrows furrowed before an evil look took over his features. He was planning something, you could tell. And you didn’t like it.

‘Oh, you mean.. this guacamole? The one on top of the fridge? That I can reach? But you can’t?’

Your eyes trailed along his veiny, muscular forearm before they met his slender, mocking hand where you found it gesturing towards... of course: the dip.

Frustration filled you head to toe as you realised that Stan, once again, had the upper hand. Your jaw ticked as your eyes finally met Stan’s cocky, patronising eyes and you had to resist the urge to make those smug, brown orbs black and blue.

‘It seems that you have something you need to ask me, darling. Because, let’s face it, we’re not gonna have a stare-off all day in front of this fridge. So, let’s hear it: “Oh, please, Stanley. I need you to get me that dip off the top of the fridge because I was born with incompetent height and I can’t do it without you, Stanley.”’

You crossed your arms over your chest as you listened, painfully, to Stan mock you with such arrogance you found it hard to resist whacking him with a frying pan. However, to Stan’s surprise, before he had the chance to continue making fun of you, there was no one standing in front of him anymore.

Where had you gone? he thought. That’s unlike you, to admit defeat so easily. Where was your usual snarky bite back, attacking him on his ‘unusually long legs’?

But before he could get too worried, there you were. Returning into the kitchen to fight back to Stan.... with a chair.

Wordless and emotionless, you put the chair down in front of the fridge, stood on its seat and grabbed the dip, finally retreating from the kitchen, not before throwing Stan a victorious wink before you disappeared around the corner.

Truth be told, you had no idea how to respond to Stan’s unusual behaviour so instead of arguing back like you would normally do, your mind blanked of insults completely and you did the next best thing that you could think of: beat him at his own game.

It was obvious that something about Stan had changed since the last time you had spoken and Stan seemed to think he was one step ahead of you. What stupid Stan didn’t know was that you were nowhere near as Stupid as him and knew that the only way to irritate him like you used to was to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Sure, you weren’t exactly completely against the idea of flirting with Stan for fun. He was obviously a good-looking guy; you knew because he would never let you forget it. And you would never pass up the opportunity to get a hot guy flustered.

This was how Stan wanted to play? Fine. He’d better prepare to lose.

It had been two weeks since this little game you and Stan were playing had begun and you couldn’t hold out much longer. The tension between the two of you had sky-rocketed and even the slightest twitch of a smirk in the corner of Stan’s mouth had your panties pooling with desire.

You had an inkling that Stan was in the same boat as you were as your lingering caresses on his arm or leg when laughing with him and his family seemed to make him blush much easier than before.

The point of why you were doing all of this was still vaguely swimming around in the back of your mind: do not be the first to give into your temptations. Don’t sleep with Stan.

However, with Stan so perfectly positioned behind you so your butt met his bulge as he leaned over your petite frame to reach for a glass, you had to take deep breaths to remind yourself once again: don’t sleep with Stan.

You gulped and took a deep breath of relief once he removed himself from his position behind you to lean on the counter next to you. His gaze burned into the side of your face and you met his eyes briefly just to find him with a cocky smirk plastered on him.

Your blood boiled (with rage or desire, you didn’t know) but you looked away without giving even the slightest of a reaction. You could never let him know how much his actions affected you.

It was that dreaded time of the week when you go over to the Uris family’s house for dinner and after eating a delicious meal cooked by Mrs Uris you did the routine of standing in the kitchen and drinking an iced tea with Stan whilst the adults got drunk in the living room.

Usually, you and Stan would bicker pointlessly during this time of the evening, but tonight it was completely silent between the two of you with only lingering gazes and glares thrown from one to the other. The tension could be cut with a butter knife.

However, your torment was put on pause as, suddenly, Mrs Uris appeared at the kitchen door. ‘Hello sweeties,’ she hiccoughed slightly, clearly tipsy. ‘I know that the kitchen is very beautiful but you are welcome to go up to Stan’s room if you want. Stan certainly won’t mind a beautiful girl like you to be up in his room, y/n.’ She winked as you blushed and Stan coughed out an embarrassed ‘Mom!’.

She then made her departure, giggling to herself softly as she went. Stan then coughed to get your attention and gestured with a jerk of his head to the direction of his room, indirectly asking if you wanted to take up his mother on her offer. You shrugged before making your way up the stairs to Stan’s room.

Stan’s room. What a place to behold. You hadn’t been up there since you were about 12 and had to work with Stan on a class project. It had changed a lot since then. Posters of bands that Stan listened to were plastered all over the walls and clothes were scattered all over the floor, and let’s not forget to mention the faint aroma of marijuana.

Stan manoeuvred you out of the doorway, his fingers gracing your waist ever so slightly with his bulge pressed against your lower back as he shimmied past you.

He jumped on his bed, his arms and legs in a starfish position on either side of him, and closed his eyes with a big sigh.

You carefully sat yourself down next to him on the bed, feeling too hesitant to lie yourself down next to him. He leaned up against the bed frame with his hands behind his head as he studied your appearance precariously as ever.

‘Why do you hate me?’.

The question took you by surprise. It was so out of the blue and even more so out of character for Stan to be so straight-forward. You blinked delicately before shrugging your shoulders at him.

‘Do you want the honest answer or the answer that you want to hear from me?’ You pressed, speaking so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

He glanced swiftly over you for a second before responding, ‘Honest.’

It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting Stan to want that answer but the fact that you had to admit it to yourself now, let alone to Stan, was enough to make you faint from nerves.

You looked away from Stan and fiddled with your fingers as you spoke in hushed tones. ‘I envy you. You have better grades, better looks, better charisma, better music taste, better style... a better life. You are better than me in every way. And I despise you for it.’

A masked look of shock ghosted over Stan’s face before it was replaced once again with a stony expression. He sat up straight so that your knees were touching and he placed a hand on the centre of your thigh.

You looked up at him and connected with his gorgeous hazel eyes. He ran his tongue quickly over his lips before his eyes locked onto yours. ‘Now, we both know that’s not true.’

It was as if your body was moving with a mind of its own. Slowly, you were leaning in towards Stan as if you were magnetised to him and to be too far would hurt you in unimaginable ways. ‘How do you mean?’ You breathily responded, your heart pulsing rapidly.

He was so close to you now that you felt his breath against your lips. ‘Because I envy you ten times more.’ And with that closing sentence you felt his lips crash immediately into yours.

All the tension from the last few days swarmed around you both like a storm of arousal and need. His kiss was passionate and rough as he pressed his lips into yours with so much want but his hand on your leg was gentle and sweet as he caressed your inner thigh gently with his thumb.

The constant nagging of your brain screaming at you ‘Don’t sleep with Stan’ was shoved into the back of your mind falling to deaf ears as Stan moved his hand ever so slightly higher up your leg, falling to play with the hem of your dress as he detached his lips from yours to suck on your collarbone with the obvious attempt of planting a hickey.

Stan skillfully moved you both up to the headboard so that he could deepen the passion of your kiss and you quickly maneuvered yourself so that you were now straddling his lap.

His growing erection pressed into your centre as he trailed his smooth hands down to the flesh of your hips, his lips dragging down your jaw to find solace in the crook of your neck.

You felt like you were on fire, Stan’s touch was magnetic and no matter how you’d been trying to resist him, it was impossible. You were addicted to how he made you feel.

Neediness began to bubble through your tummy and you could tell Stan was feeling the same way as his hands were digging into your hips harder than before. Then, his hands began to carefully drag your hips across his hardness, slowly at first.

You could feel every bump of his length through his thin sweatpants and your hands moved down his toned body to fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt.

His hands began to move faster, dragging your thin panties over his hard, clothed dick. He detatched his lips from your neck when you began to let out tiny, little moans of pleasure, thankful for the little bits of stimulation Stan was feeding you.

His eyes trailed down your body, admiring every single bump and curve: the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder, your soaking panties rubbing against him as his hands moulded perfectly with the fat of your hips. They then fell on your face, growing darker at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows, messy hair and plump, red lips from you biting down too hard on them.

Likewise, you were admiring Stan, his sharp jawline clenching and unclenching every time you dragged yourself over his most sensitive spots, his hair uncharacteristically messy from your hands tugging on his curls. He noticed your movements speeding up and he flashed you a dangerous grin; a grin that would make even the biggest prude on the planet drop her panties to her knees.

Acknowledging your shaky hands still fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, he slowed the movement of your hips with his strong hands and dragged you painfully slow now, refusing to let you continue with the rapid pace you’d set before.

“You want this off, baby?” referring to his t-shirt. You nodded shyly, hands still fiddling with the hem.

“Want me to take it off for you? Are you too dumb to do it yourself?” He stared up at you with a patronising look on his face. You groaned annoyedly, but deep down your cunt throbbed with anticipation.

“Just take it off Stan, don’t be a dick.” You glared down at him but your glare immediately switched to a look of shock as Stan’s hands had stopped your hips moving completely now, denying you any release that you were desperately craving.

Narrowing his eyes playfully, he tutted at your lack of control. “Now, that’s no way to ask for what we want is it, sweetheart?” The corner of his lips tugged up satisfactorily as he took in your menacing glare, but also your glossed over eyes indicating your desperation for his cock.

‘Oh, how cute,’ Stan thought pityingly. ‘The poor, little slut’s already gone dumb and I haven’t even fucked her yet.’

You breathed through your nostrils fiercely before succumbing to the begging of your aching clit and gave Stan your best doe eyes before tugging pathetically at the hem of Stan’s crumpled shirt. ‘Please take it off Stan, I’ll do anything, please..’ You pressed down on his length for extra measure just to make sure he would give you what you needed.

A low hum of appreciation mixed with a strangled groan of pleasure escaped Stan’s throat and he mulled it over for a few seconds with that irritating smirk plastered on his face before nodding, clearly satisfied with your begging before he lifted his slender fingers to his collar and removed his shirt - finally.

You took a moment to appreciate the art that was Stanley Uris' abs and sighed contentedly. It seemed your hands had a mind of their own as you wasted no time in rubbing your hands up and down his beautiful torso, gliding over the valleys and hills of his defined muscles.

"Enjoying yourself there, princess?" Stan chimed, clearly cocky that you'd spent about 30 seconds just groping him absentmindedly.

Tearing your eyes away, you glanced up at Stanley's face, adorned with a shit-eating smirk, one of his hands resting behind his head, the other still gripping the fat of your hip, rubbing gentle circles into your flesh.

Slightly embarrassed but, nevertheless, growing quite needy now, you rolled your eyes.

Eyes narrowing at the evil spawn, you thought 'The ego of this man is absolutely atrocious. How dare he try and make fun of me for admiring his physique when if I decided to strip naked right now, his reaction would probably beat mine.'

And then it clicked.

Focusing back on Stanley's disgustingly smug face, you did something you'd never done for Stanley Uris in your entire life.

You gave him a real genuine smile.

The apples of your cheeks beamed down at him and your eyes sparkled lovingly at the boy who was now slightly confused and, albeit, a little bit scared.

Slowly, you leaned down over Stan so your breath tickled his nose and your lips brushed gently against his, just in time to see his cheeks tinge red and his eyes flutter closed, like a naïve teenage girl who was experiencing her first kiss.

Aw, how cute.

Finally, you pressed your lips to Stanley's, so softly Stan thought he might've been kissing a cloud, and just left them there, in a gentle peck, before sitting up again to admire the look of bliss on Stan's face.

His eyes were fluttering open again and his breathing was shallow but fast.

This was the real face of Stan; he had finally taken off his mask for you.

He was so pretty, obviously you knew that already, but you couldn't get lost in his beauty again or your plan wouldn't work.

Then, when he dazedly smiled up at you and made to pull your head down so he could kiss you again, you teasingly began to lift up the hem of your dress until it had been lifted over your head and discarded somewhere on Stan's bedroom floor.

There you sat, on Stanley's clothed, throbbing cock, in just your white silk panties, the little bow just oh so enticing, and your bare, perky breasts on display for Stanley's greedy eyes.

His lips parted ever so slightly as he not-so-discreetly took in a sharp intake of breath. His eyes roamed hungrily over your exposed chest, and you knew you had him when his needy little hands reached up to thumb your erect nipples.

Arrogantly, you smirked down at him, your sweet, loving smile erased. However, Stan failed to notice, too enamoured by your naked body, like a toddler in a candy store.

"Aw, you're like a needy, little puppy, aren't you Stanny?" Your heart beat fast as you finally dropped the sentence you'd been waiting to release since Stan's cocky demeanour had surfaced.

Stan froze as he realised what you had done and his jaw clenched automatically, clearly embarrassed that he had let you entice him just how he had you not even a few minutes ago.

Narrowed eyes were glaring into yours and your confident façade faltered slightly as you realised how deep in shit you were now.

He was gonna ruin you.

However, Stan didn't flip you over dominantly so he was on top of you, or rip your panties off in anger like you had expected him to.

Gradually, he eased himself up his headboard so his back was resting comfortably against it and so the two of you were eye-level, 'innocent' doe-eyes levelled with furious, narrowed eyes.

His hands gently gripped you hips and moved you a little further up his chest, so he could remove his sweatpants, so slow and so patient you were so confused.

He looked deadly, that's for sure. But you'd expected him to be rough with you, teach you a lesson for being so naughty. All in all, other than being clearly vexed, he was treating you like you were a china doll.

As soon as his sweatpants and boxers were discarded, he moved you back to your old spot on his lap and carefully caressed your hips, his thumbs hooking under the straps of your thong and pulling at the sides, fiddling with them gently while intently drilling into your eyes with his own.

"You wanna be in control, huh, sweetheart?" He muttered so quiet you could barely hear but so full of malice your heart immediately sped up.

You had no idea what to say. No, you didn't wanna be in control. You wanted Stan to bend and contort you into any position he wanted, you wanted him to fuck your cunt until you couldn't even form a coherent word, you wanted him to paint the canvas of your body purple, pink and black, in the form of hickeys, bruises and mascara stains.

And you knew he knew that.

You knew by the look on his face, the restraint in his jaw, the rage in his eyes that he definitely did not want that either.

So why was he doing this?

Just as your brows started to furrow in confusion, Stan's thumb had started to rub harsh but deliberate circles over your clothed clit and you let out a gasp.

He tilted his head to the side slightly, furrowing his brows in faux confusion. "Is that... not what you want, baby? You see, I'm just a needy little puppy, right?" He spat at you, evidently fuming but clearly enjoying seeing you in such a state.

You shook your head and dropped your it onto Stan's shoulder, moaning softly as he used one hand to hook your panties to the side while the other found your soaking wet hole and gently inserted two very long fingers.

But, immediately he removed them.

Your head shot up in irritation but you relaxed and hummed contentedly as you realised that Stan was finally lining himself up with your entrance.

You lifted yourself up slightly to make room for his 'oh my god that's scarily big why am i only just noticing this' cock, fluttered your eyelashes closed, and waited for the stretch of him pushing up into you... but it never came.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Stan's eyes, still level with yours, looking bored and his hands, once again, behind his head, biceps flexed and causing a big distraction for you.

He looked at you pointedly, but, realising you still didn't get it, rolled his eyes and motioned for you to sit on his cock.

At this point, you would've jumped off a cliff if Stan asked you to if it meant he would grant you some form of release, so you carefully began to lower yourself down onto his tree-trunk of a dick, the stretch of it stinging slightly but the depth of it stimulating you in all the right ways.

You let out a guttural moan as you sat on the base, his cock bottomed out inside of you. You gripped Stan's toned shoulders with force and wiggled about slightly, trying to adjust to this new, amazing feeling and, as you wiggled, you noticed a slight tremor in his mask as his jaw clenched and his eyebrows briefly furrowed in pleasure.

But, as quickly as it faltered, it reappeared and Stan's stoic, unimpressed gaze fell on you once again.

"Well?" He rasped, as if what he wanted was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're in control, right, babe? I'm not moving a muscle."

You knew immediately that he was not kidding, so you bottled up the impatience you had for this stupid, stubborn man and put your game face on.

You could get off without help from Stan, of course you could. You didn't need his touch when you could do a perfectly good job with your hips and your hands.

'Fine.' You thought, glaring at Stan with pure hatred in your eyes. 'Suit yourself.'

So you began to move up and down on Stanley's cock, feeling every vein and twitch as you dragged your walls all over his length, coating it in your slick.

You gripped Stan's flexed biceps, his arms unmoving from behind his head as his eyes flickered between watching your face slowly morph into a dreamy, fucked-out expression, soft, pretty moans escaping from your parted lips every time the tip of his cock would prod at your g-spot, and watching your glistening, stretched out cunt swallow up his length, each time producing more and more slick so every time you slammed back down on his base, you could hear a squelching noise.

The only sign Stan was giving away of him holding any emotion was the twitch of his jaw and brow growing more frequent as the speed of your bounces grew quicker and harsher.

Soon, your bounces grew erratic as you craved your release, the only noises in his room being your desperate whimpers of pleasure, the sound of your wetness, and skin slapping on skin, along with the occasional grunt of approval from Stan.

However, you started to grow tired and out of breath as it had been nearly 5 minutes of you bouncing up and down on Stan's length, with no help from him and your determination to beat Stan at his own game was overwhelmed by your desperation to cum, and you knew you had to admit defeat because you were never gonna cum if you carried on like this.

Reluctantly, you sank down onto Stan and stilled with him deep inside you as you breathed heavily and whimpered with the desperation to cum deep in your tummy, your clit throbbing, begging for release.

Stan's furrowed face quickly changed to that of faux sympathy as he moved his hands to rest on your waist, rubbing gentle circles into the skin. "Oh baby, are you tired? Do you need my help?" He asked, patronising you just a little bit further by stretching out 'need' just to annoy you.

You had no time to be annoyed, however, because you could feel your release creeping just that little bit further away from the loss of stimulation, so you nodded your head frantically, practically begging Stanley to help you with your pathetic little doe eyes, glossy and desperate.

"Please, Stanny, please I need it, I need you, just please make me cum." You whined, your lips ghosting his ear, and gently kissing his cheek just for good measure.

That was all Stan needed to hear as he grabbed your neck, squeezing gently as he brought your face back to his and kissed you harshly, bruising your lips with his teeth as he dragged your lip with him, pulling away, and then releasing it.

"See, that wasn't so hard was it!" He smiled gently at you, pecking your plump, red lips and squeezing your neck in approval, before he moved his hands back to your waist, his grip turning nasty and he lifted you up right to his tip, then plunging his hips upwards into yours.

You choked on your moan from the sheer force of his thrust but soon gained your voice back as he continued his rough, rapid thrusting up into your eager pussy, practically dripping, begging for a long overdue orgasm.

You collapsed your tired aching body on top of Stan, your head buried in his neck, muffling your high-pitched moans from the ears of your drunk parents downstairs.

Stan moved his hands down to your ass and gripped the flesh harshly and his thrusts were slamming repeatedly into a spot that made you clench fiercely down on him and shriek with overwhelming pleasure.

Stan groaned into your ear as you continually clenched around him, whispering filthy praises into your ear making your legs tremble and your stomach flip as your impending orgasm was getting closer and closer.

"Can you hear yourself, princess? Can you hear the noises your pretty pussy is making?" The squelching of your wetness was embarrassing to say the least and you could feel Stan smirking without even having to look at him.

As he kept hitting that same spot, you could feel yourself so close to the edge as your legs trembled and your moans grew louder and higher.

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna come, Stanny." You managed to babble out through your whimpers as you felt that overwhelming rush of pleasure build up deep inside you.

Stan lifted your head up and grabbed it with both of his hands whilst still thrusting repeatedly in and out of your sopping cunt, forcing you to look into his eyes.

He had a look of pure concentration adorning his face, brows furrowed, jaw clenched and hair messy, letting out little breathy moans of his own every now and then.

"That's it princess, I wanna see that pretty face when you come all over my cock." And the coil snapped.

You let out a scream of pleasure as your entire body jolted, your orgasm washing over you, your toes clenching and your pussy spasming around Stan's length.

You collapsed onto Stan once again, letting out tiny moans, clearly exhausted from the intensity of the orgasm Stanley had given you, and the spasming of your cunt had clearly not been lost on him as his relentless thrusting had begun to grow sloppy.

Stan was moaning quite loudly in your ear now, a death-grip on your ass cheeks as he fucked up into you, chasing his own high.

You knew he needed a little push so you sat up slightly so you could whisper in his ear breathy and raspy like someone who was recovering from one of the best orgasms they'd ever had in their life, "I want you to come inside me."

The words that make every man orgasm on the spot did not lose their effect on Stan as he let out a loud groan of ecstasy and his thrusts slowed until they came to a stop, clearly having done what you asked.

He dropped his forehead to yours and grabbed your hands, fiddling with them as you both caught your breath.

Holy shit.

You didn't know what to do as you both just lay there gathering your thoughts, attempting to comprehend what just happened.

However, you knew you couldn't stay in this post-orgasmic bubble forever so you gently lifted yourself off of Stan's softening dick and got up to look for your dress.

You were halted, however by a hand closing around your wrist.

Turning around, Stan was lazily grinning up at you with a look of victory on his face as he was dragging you to lie back down on the bed with him and you couldn't help but smile back at him, full of a mysterious feeling for the boy who was just so beautiful.

How could you say no?

Climbing back into bed with him, you both turned to face each other, him still grinning at you, and you studying each and every freckle and blemish on his skin, realising that you loved each and every one of them.

You loved them.

Oh my god.

You loved Stan.

Suddenly, you burst out laughing and Stan jumped slightly before a grin erupted back onto his face as he asked what was so funny.

You managed to get through your laughter, barely, the words that you never thought you'd say in your life. "I- I'm in love - with - with you." Before you immediately started giggling again uncontrollably.

Stan joined in on your laughter, his shoulders moving up and down from the force of his laughs as he breathed out "I'm in love with you too."

You both laid there giggling uncontrollably like a pair of middle schoolers, laughing at your own stupidity.

Once the laughter died down you smiled up at Stan and nuzzled yourself into his chest, planting a few soft kisses there as he pulled you in closer and buried his nose into your hair.

You were drawing shapes on his arms, daydreaming in the comfortable silence when you heard Stan mutter into your hair something inaudible.

You sat up gently looking at him quizzically for a second until you noticed the look of pure adoration on his face that was directed to you before he said gravelly and clearly exhausted, "I hate you so much." before he buries his face into your neck and peppered you with kisses.

You giggled and whispered, "I love you too, stupid."

#it fandom #it fanfiction #stanley uris #stanley uris smut #stanley uris x reader #stan uris #stan uris smut #stan uris x reader #it smut #stan it #stan uris it #stanley uris it

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wannaeatramyeon · 10 months

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i'm dying, i'm deceased, your content is so satisfying, ramen! it's like having a good meal! also, with the amount of injuries the guys are getting, i imagine they're (hopefully) seeing a medic quite often. i wonder if in the process of being patched up by them, by being seen at their most vulnerable, after having the brain cells beat out of them, they would start feeling something for their medic? all gentle touches after a brutal fight~ i imagine gun and sammy would be seeing them the most, but feel free to add others. hope you've been doing well!! 🌺

Hi! Are you my flower anon? (Sorry new laptop - emojis look a bit different). I have been feeling... wild lately. Hope you are doing well too! Thanks for sending this in and AGAIN SO SORRY FOR THE SUPER LATE RESPONSE. My bio should really read day late and a dollar short.

Medic!Reader tending to Samuel Seo, Gun Park, Johan Seong

Word had gotten round that for the right price, you would tend to anyone.

Of course that's not the only reason you're the go-to medic for many of your seedier clients. You're quick and efficient, with some even describing you as a miracle worker. Along with your zipped lips and diligence for confidentiality-

Well. It's no wonder you've paid off your med school loans in record time.

"Again?" you sigh, arriving and taking in the scene before you.

Samuel Seo

If surveyed, nine out of ten people would describe Samuel as hot.

The last person would no doubt have a terrible sight impairment. Shame. How sad. A tragedy indeed.

So when you, time and time again, go to work on Samuel's body, cleaning his wounds, stitching him up, seeing his exposed skin and naked body with a blank face and purely professional manner.

Well. Samuel doesn't know what to do with that.

You intrigue him and he wants a reaction.

So he's the one that talks to you. Small snippets of his life, hoping to impress you. He notices you're not moved by his strength, the power he wields, the people he commands. Even his penthouse, furnished with the best money can buy and his designer clothes does nothing for you.

You usually remain neutral until today, Samuel gets what he wants. You laugh a little at his response-

"Something about my face must be punchable,"

His heart flutters when he hears your laughter ring out. He's not sure if you're laughing at him or with him, but surprisingly, his ego doesn't seem to mind.

Gun Park

Gun remembers the first time you attended to him, courtesy of Charles Choi and a benefit of his position.

You didn't flinch at his black eyes or the bleeding wound that sat between them. Instead, cleaning him up with a startling efficiency he couldn't help but admire.

Methodical and competent, Gun was deeply impressed as he watches your hands flying over him, dipping into your med bag for something now and then.

The speed should come with roughness but your touches are gentle. Grazing over his skin and leaving goosebumps in your wake.

When you lean in close, examining if there is anymore to be done or if it would leave a mark he would just have to deal with - you make a joke that it wouldn't matter anyway, the scar would add to his handsomeness; Gun's throat dries up at the intensity of your eyes staring at him.

Huh. And it's usually Gun that has that effect on people.

From then on, Gun likes to think it was by pure coincidence that his body began becoming more and more littered with scars. It absolutely had nothing to do with your words or how much he looked forward to seeing you.

At your exasperated 'again', he smiles.

Johan Seong

Manager Kim directs Johan over to you. You've seen this type of patient before.

Cagey and prickly, like it's a show of weakness to be tended to by someone and annoyed to not be left to lick their wounds in private.

You remain quiet and professional until you're on the receiving end of one too many agitated huffs and impatient leg bounces making your job of bandaging this brat up so much harder-

"Sit still!" you snap with force and authority. Johan does, and looks at you with wide eyes.

Something about your tone makes him gulp and he fights back the blood rushing to his cheeks.

He thinks about your voice, commanding and sharp, juxtaposing with your gentle hands checking on him. The proximity of your body is slammed into sharp focus and Johan feels a rebellious urge to make you reprimand him in that strict tone of yours again.

Ughhhh.

Why is his shirt collar so tight, why is his tie so constricting? And why the hell is he feeling so hot and bothered?

Shit, the penny drops. Have I got a thing for this?!

#lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #johan seong #johan seong x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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cosmiles · 9 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋

➢ mha characters as american high school stereotypes

note: this literally makes me laugh every time i read it and i lowkey want to do a part 2

characters: midoriya, mina, denki, yaoyorozu, monoma

content: crack, no ships,

words: 0.6k

I. MIDORIYA — The Summer Glow Up

- ik he spent his freshman and sophomore yr being labeled as a simp even though he was just tryna be nice

- some girls in his class were screaming and hollering about how they had a boyfriend when all he asked was if they needed a pencil

- but whew that sophomore to junior yr summer did him right, giving him a few more inches and a nice deep voice

- when he came in everyone thought he was a new student until he said, “Here”, when his name was called

- now everybody and they momma be lowkey flirting with him

- got people asking him for rides home left n right and has about a million candy grams on valentines day

- poor man doesn’t know how to handle all this new attention since he still feels like the same ‘ole deku from last year :(

M. ASHIDO — The Camerawoman

- yk that person who lowkey gets the perfect shots during a fight?

- yea that’s her

- she’s always looking for fights to record and keeps a schedule of when they’re supposed to happen

- like you’ll see in her school planner “FIGHT @ 1 NEAR FIRST FLOOR BATHROOM” right next to her history hw

- lowkey almost gets suspended one day for "instigating" but gets out of it

- eventually gets tired of having to send everyone the fight and makes an insta page with denki

D. KAMINARI — Runner of the School’s Instagram(s)

- never sleep, fight, or tell him drama

- cause it’s gon on one of them insta pages

- it started with just making a sleep page and then spread like a wildfire

- got so popular he moved on to the drama and eventual fight page that he co-runs with mina

- it got so bad that people were scared to sleep in class and fights were more frequent

- the school can't do too much about it since no one’s snitched on him yet ;)

M. YAOYOROZU — The Nice "It Girl"

- basically the smarter version of cher from clueless

- minus the terrible driving and falling in love with her stepbrother

- always smells so good and will lend you anything you ever need

- just give it back to her or she will hunt you down

- takes the prettiest notes and is the first one to have her hand raised in every class

- the president of student council for all four years

- everyone knows her but she has a small circle of friends

- don’t take her kindness for granted though or you’ll get a lot of nasty stares in the hallway

N. MONOMA — The Devil’s Advocate

- def that guy that you see across the hallway that you think is pretty

- until he opens his mouth and you realize that he has a pretty punchable face

- always starts his sentences off with, “I don't mean to be that person but…” and then goes on to say some mess

- don’t expect him to help you with anything during a group project

- but if he does, you both are gonna end up fighting more than completing the project

- always has a smirk on his face and will start arguments just because he thinks its funny

- the teachers love him yet hate him

- on one hand, he gets the class to engage in discussions, but on the other do they really want to spend their prep period dragging another student off of him?

➢ thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed and don't forget that Jesus loves you, to drink water, eat some food, and get some rest :))

➢ taglist: 🫧

@megurulvr

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culxiaa-fn · 6 months

Text

[Mark of Love]

There is a theory, a fairy tale about how mole is where the places where your past lovers frequently left a kiss. Ace thinks it's ridiculous, ridiculously "cringe" and ridiculously Sappy. Yet Ace out of all people knew it, no matter how much he denied.

This comes from one theory that is quite popular. Kantokusei is looped by someone's magic. Also the moles(?) The location is based on my own body HAHAHA I'm forcing myself to look at my own body while showering then i noticed I have quite a lot of beauty marks. I have no idea why I'm writing ngl very self indulgent.

- Fem&AFAB!reader

|| slight suggestive, nothing serious it's just Ace being bratty. Slight Angst at the end(?)|| Hint that kantokusei's death || Ace Trappola return by death era ||

--- Masterlist ---

Everyone got one or two moles on their body either its an easily visible area or more hidden one.

There is a tale, a bed time story, an old wives tales- how beauty mark is the place where your past lovers like to kiss.

Ridiculous, Ace thought it was ridiculous- nothing more nothing less, it's just a silly story.

Yet, when lying on the bed with her right by his sides, kantokusei is showing all her moles. The areas where he knew the best.

After all... There's no smoke without fire... All fairy tales come from somewhere that hold some sort of truth. And Ace out of all people knows this, tiny dots across kantokusei body, like an artist painting on his empty canvas.

Of course he knew, of course he remembered, he is the one that left those marks afterall.

Lower right, below your lips

Ace loves to tease kantokusei, he lives for her angry faces, the grumpy hufs and he loves when kantokusei sulk about it.

Call him sadist or anything, but lives for her angry pout quietly sulking refuse to admit her loss.

But it won't be long, Ace despite his words of being chosen is often very provocative, and when he wears that extremely annoying and punchable smirk, he has this charm that allows him to easily win people.

Ace:"Neeeee~ kantokusei, I'm sorry... Stop giving me a cold shoulder. I'm a very sensitive person you know?? "

[name]:"..."

Ace: " come on, it's been a while since we spent time together without anyone bothering us, are you sure you want to spend it like this??"

Ace: "I will give you a kiss, So can you stop sulking? I'm sorry okay..?? I will replace the pudding that I ate so yeah? Come on~"

Slowly Ace comes closer, purposely he misses her lips.

[name]: " Hmm..., don't tease.."

Ace:v" mm? I won't give it unless you forgive me~"

On right shoulder

Ace is by no means a genius, but that doesn't make him a hardworking person either.

I mean studying is tiring you know?? All these numbers and names that he has to memorize??

The warmth from his girlfriend and the softness of the bed is not helping him at all.

Yet, his girlfriend is just annoyingly hardworking.

And Ace had enough, who studies when their boyfriend is right here?? Normal people already gave up 30 minutes ago right??? Yet why is his girlfriend still stubbornly refusing to rest?

If being whiny is not enough then times to plan B.

Ace: "kantokusei~ we have been studying for a while now... Let's take a nap?"

*kiss* *kiss*

[name]: "you mean me right? You have been procrastinating"

Ace: " It's very comfortable right now, we still have 2 days until the test. Let's take a nap?"

Moving her hair out of his way, his lips connected to the exposed area.

*kiss* *kiss*

[name]: "Ace, you are distracting"

Inner left thigh

Running while it's pouring is really not a good idea. In Ace's defence, the planning part is usually done by Kantokusei, I mean there is a reason why Rook-senpai call Kantokusei "trickster".

And Kantokusei managed to trick Azul ffs of course he left the thinking part to her.

But Kantokusei is tired from thinking today, they just finished their magic history test after all, so Ace being a good boyfriend he is will help kantokusei do the thinking.

Doesn't mean it's a good idea- and now they are soaking.

[name]:"Ace, do you have extra pants or shorts?? My laundry didn't make it-"

Ace & [name]:"where's your clothes?" "where's your pants?”

Ace: Woah woah, aren't it a bit early to be seducing me?? Kantokusei so lewd~

[name]: where's YOUR clothes?!

Ace: now, now I'm not the problem here. You see many shirtless guys around here- Kantokusei you have to be careful you know? Men are wolves.

Ace Trappola can never take his eyes off this person, either from a sheer absurdity of some words that left her mouth, or to make sure this person didn't get in any unnecessary trouble, Ace can't avert his eyes from this person.

When they start dating, Ace finds out one thing about him that surprises even himself. He is clingy, and craves kantokusei's hand on his body and his hands on her body.

Either by secretly entwining their hand under their desk, to keep his hand on her shoulder, Ace needs some form of contact.

Now in all her glory, thighs exposed, Ace feels like a very deprived virgin. And not any languages or words can explain what possesses him to pin her on the sofa and bite kantokusei's thigh.

Two above left eyebrow

Ace is far from "boyfriend" materials in fact he is far from it. In fact people have said to him he has a very irritating personality and punchable face.

Ace is not a perfect boyfriend, every word that leaves his mouth can be irritating. Every time he speaks it very much has the potential to pissed some off.

Yet at this time when her tears drop on his hand, it sears his skin, every chocked sobs feels like a sword piercing his heart.

At times like this, Ace wishes he was good with words so he could stop those tears from flowing out of her eyes.

Instead, Ace left a faint kiss above her eyes, no Ace won't ask her to stop crying, Ace knows how frustrated it can be. Instead he hoped this clumsy action could bring some sort of comfort to her.

In the middle of the ring finger at right palm

Again, it happens again. Smoke, fire, collapse building, aching all over his body, blood stained his hand and distant sounds of a monster growling. How many times has Ace seen this sight? How many times has he been through this.

He has to- he NEED to find her. Only kantokusei can calm that spoiled cat. Only kantokusei can stop that damn cat from throwing tantrums.

Ah, again and again and again and again and again. Ace is sick seeing this view. Red everything is red.

Ace thinks red suits her, but not this kind of red. The jam from the unbirthday party tart, the red roses where they painted it together, the red mark Ace put on her face as a joke to make them match.

Ace thinks red suits her because red is his signature color. But this, Ace feels like he's gonna throw up.

Ah but he did throw up didn't he? The first few times he saw this sight.

Again he failed, again and again and again. Just what does he have to do?? Grim's rampage will be stopped later, he knows, just how many times do you think he has been through this. That's good right? A monster is defeated by a knight, that's how a fairy tale goes right?? That's when they reach their happy ending right??

Ace is selfish, he won't let this world have their happy ending without her, even if it means having to go through this hell a few hundred times more.

[name]: "Ace..."

Ace: "hey, dont talk, save your energy"

[name] : "Ace, grim... "

Ace: " worry about yourself right now"

[name]: "Ace....? What are you doing..?"

Ace: "sorry, forgive me. I'm so sorry. Let's meet again later okay? In front of the Great Seven statue remember? We always meet there"

And so with a kiss on her palm. A promise, an oath.

Ace think the world can go fuck themselves.

If it means going through this hundreds or even thousands times so he can achieve the ending where both her and the world save that he will do it.

#*insert Re:Zero Return by Death sound*#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #twst #twst ace #twst ace x reader #twst x reader #my writing

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zooophagous · 5 months

Text

Ursula sat in front of her computer with her trademark weary scowl. She had slain vampires, wrangled werewolves, and even dealt with the FBI on more than one incredibly unpleasant occasion. All of that was fine. All of that was in her wheelhouse.

Scheduling, however?

Grueling.

Mark had asked for Thanksgiving off. Only twenty minutes later, Sabrina had also requested it off. They were both late, and both lacked seniority, and now Ursula was tasked with applying the proverbial wisdom of Solomon to rectify the hole in staffing, and regrettably couldn’t just fix it by cutting someone in half. Both of them were young and had families. Both of them had to be out of town. She could, of course, plug the hole in staffing herself by working a double. Again.

She ran her fingers through her silver curls and rested her head on her hands, and her elbows on her desk. She plugged her own name into the empty spot. So much for a day off. It was fine, it was fine. What better way to spend the day than with unpaid overtime? Besides, Artie was her only real family, and Artie would more than likely still be here. She was always here.

Maybe that was part of the problem. It wasn’t really normal for someone to be this addicted to work, even by Ursula’s standards. She had a few work friends, sure. But one of them was dead. And she wasn’t really supposed to be getting as close to that one as she seemed to be. Codependent relationships with a vampire were certainly unhealthy for both parties. Maybe Artie needed a vacation. Maybe they could take that trip to the Hagia Sophia or the Vatican.

She clicked off the scheduling app and into a search bar for some sort of plane tickets. It would be very doable with the right budget. Spend a week, no- two weeks away from work and research and far away from any Goddamned vampires for just a little bit and maybe the distance would give her some perspective and-

“Miss Harker?”

The intercom buzzed and shattered her reverie.

“Yes, Sandy?”

“There’s um. A Mr. Akeley here to see you?”

Ursula paused. “Akeley?”

Sandy was silent. Ursula slammed the button down hard in annoyance.

“Sandy did he say his name was Jonathan Akeley?”

The intercom clicked on again to a cacophony of muddied voices, Sandy among them loudly protesting “I said wait by the-” and “You can’t all go in there-”

“Hello Ursula.”

She looked up from her desk to see a man, then two, then four, pouring into her office from the hall. They all wore uniforms not dissimilar to the ones on the Institute’s own security team. Their apparent leader was tall and athletic and all too familiar. A lawyerly smile made of porcelain veneers grinned sarcastically down at her from a head of sandy blonde hair.

He always did have an incredibly punchable face.

“Jonathan. I don’t know why I’m surprised. I can smell you coming from the parking lot.” She huffed. “What is this little dress up game you’re all playing? Is this your idea of dressing for the job you want, and not the one you have?”

“Cute. You think I want to work for you. Actually, Harker, you work for me now.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what the fuck you mean.”

“Oh? Haven’t you heard?”

Jonathan produced a manila envelope and made a show of placing a set of reading spectacles on the tip of his nose. “By the order of… oh, how embarrassing. His holiness the pope? We’ve been granted the authority to remove from the control of the Van Helsing Institute a one “Project Symbiosis” and any living, unliving or deceased subject(s) from the premises with extreme prejudice and by any means deemed necessary and likely to prevent further human harm.”

He tossed the envelope to her and it flopped onto her desk. She grabbed it in her fist and furiously began to read it.

“What the Hell is the meaning of all of this?! And they sent you of all people! Why?”

“Oh, something about how your little pet project has been running amok in the city, claiming victims and otherwise being out and about without a chaperone. More than once I may add.”

“His victims are alive and unhurt and were fairly compensated by the-”

“Oh?” Jonathan cut her off and reached into his coat pocket for yet another envelope. “So these photos I have of a father Gregor White flayed like a fish in his own home aren’t anything to you?”

She blanched. “Gregor… I don’t. What do you mean flayed? Father white is dead?”

“Yes, very dead. Incredibly dead. And it just so happens that we have some pretty clear photos of the director and… Strauss, is it? Leaving his house via one of the Institute’s vans. The body was discovered just a few hours later. Pretty damning stuff, Harker.”

“I don’t understand.” She breathed heavily and began to reach beneath her desk for the emergency security button.

“Of course you don’t. It is the belief of the church that you all have fallen under the sway of a powerful elder vampire you thought you could control, and now you’re enabling him instead. Don’t be embarrassed, you aren’t the first weak minded thrall to be a victim to these predators. You couldn’t be given any advance warning of the project’s takeover, or the specimen would have time to mount a defense, you see. Don’t worry though Harker. I’ll take it from here.”

“Like Hell you will.”

“We thought you might say something like that. Hell can be arranged.”

The floor shook. Picture frames rattled on the walls behind Ursula’s desk. She gripped the arms of her flimsy office chair as if they could catch her. A dull roar like a crashing semi croaked through the frame and foundation of the building.

“What… what have you done?!”

“Don’t worry about it Harker. Worry about yourself. You’re under arrest. And so is everyone here. You’ll all come quietly if you know what’s good for you.”

Strauss stood in a corn field. It was not unlike the one he had nearly lost his life in, not that long ago- except that this one was green and soft. It was sunny here, but not painful. A figure approached him, wading through the swaying crops. It was Artemis.

“I’m happy you found me.” He approached her with a smile. She opened her mouth to speak.

A harsh siren escaped from her open jaws. Strauss opened his eyes. The emergency alarm was going off, but it was different this time. There was a secondary noise to it, one of a higher pitch, quickly throwing off his equilibrium. He clamped his claws over his ears and desperately fumbled for his ear plugs, dropping one, inserting the other and making his way to the hall with one hand clamped over the unprotected ear.

This alarm was not one of Troy’s outbursts. A loud pop, a flash of light, and a thick shroud of painful, acrid smoke filled the hallway. He struggled still half asleep to parse what was happening. Red light, loud noises, and smoke could only mean one thing.

Fire.

There were shapes moving in the haze- not the staff, armored shapes, the likes of which could have fallen out of his old memories of war. The pain of the smoke and the siren and the anger at what could only be some manner of attack was outweighed only by the deep, instinctual fear of flame. It wasn’t a fight he could win.

He turned away from the intruders and he bolted.

Artemis and Troy sat at the plastic dining room table with their phones in their hands. Artie’s phone buzzed, and she huffed a little quiet laugh through her nose. “Where do you keep finding these stupid sad cat memes?”

“Instagram literally will not stop recommending them to me.” Troy replied as he casually hit send on a couple more. The quiet moment was interrupted by a loud clunk! And then a clank! And then a pop, bang, fizz. The hall outside the commissary lit up with a white flash, and then became opaque with gray smoke.

Artemis jumped to her feet and furiously waved for Troy to follow, though he was already halfway out of his own chair. The path to the dorms was a wall of haze. It hurt to look at, and it was already making her throat close. The fire alarm screamed to life in an instant. Distant hollering could be heard bouncing chaotically through the facility.

“What the fuck is that?!” Troy yelled.

“Be quiet. Something is wrong. Really wrong. We need to go. Emergency exit in the south garage bay.” She grabbed his shirt and began to power-walk him down the hall.

“We can’t just leave everyone behind in a burning building-”

“We can’t do very much to help them. The staff will have to remember their training.”

“What about Strauss?”

“The dorms are a fire break. If he stays put he can wait it out.”

“Does he know to do that?”

“I sure hope so Troy.”

The pair met with a herd of staff moving towards the garage bay in a very organized panic. The presence of the director gave at least a tiny semblance of control.

“Wait.” Troy broke away from the pack.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“The mice! Strauss’ mice!”

“You are not risking your life for some Goddamn MICE Troy!”

“I’m not leaving an innocent animal behind to burn to death.”

Artemis grunted in annoyance and ran down the bay after him.

Ursula stood at her desk with her hands pinned behind her back. Her trademark snark was eerily silent. Partially because she was worried deeply for the staff- Sandy was already getting hauled away despite her protests. Poor girl. There goes another receptionist- And partially because the more clever parts of her brain were busy working on the next steps.

One thing she was not worried about was Artie. Artie knew what to do and how to do it. No doubt she was already leading an evacuation with Troy and Strauss in tow. Though really, would it be a bad idea to leave Mr. Strauss? Dead weight, in more ways than one, after all.

“Ok granny. You got anything in your pockets that’s going to stick me if I frisk you?”

“I certainly hope so.” She replied to the dull man who had her arms in a lock.

“You gonna cooperate or do we need to make this even harder?”

“I don’t care if your job is hard. I don’t care if you die today.”

“Alright. Lets get to the car then.”

“No.”

“Wasn’t asking.”

He yanked her up rudely by her arm and began to ‘escort’ her to the front door. This was all so stupid. If Mr. Strauss were truly a formidable vampire, a REAL one, like the good old days, this sort of thing would already be dealt with. A REAL elder vampire wouldn’t suffer fools so well, or be such a lousy dead weight.

Hm. Dead weight. Now there’s a thought.

She did her best impression of a sack of sand and went limp in the ersatz cop’s hands. He struggled to keep her up. It was harder playing dead than it looked, being dragged by one’s arms was actually quite painful- but so was breaking your lower back trying to haul a body that very much did not wish to be hauled.

He dropped her with a grunt.

“Lady, enough with the drama. Just get up and get in the van.”

Ursula was silent.

He leveled a kick at her gut. “I said get the Hell up, fatass.”

She swung her leg and knocked him off his feet and onto the floor. He landed flat, and before he could get up, she raised that same leg up and brought it down hard into the man’s temple. The heavy heel of her sensible office appropriate shoe struck him like Cain slaying Abel.

He was probably dead. Ursula didn’t much care. It took some very uncomfortable shimmying to scoot her hands to his belt, and to free the keys to the handcuffs. It was taking minutes- minutes she didn’t have. Finally her hands were free, and she busied herself retrieving the weapons from the increasingly corpselike man who oozed saliva onto her freshly mopped floors.

“Tch. Of course. Jonathan would give his lackeys the cheapest possible service weapons.” She mocked.

“It will have to do.”

She set off down the hall to her office. The weaponry was almost certainly gone, but her gas mask might still be there. She would have to do a sweep and make sure none of the more flighty or panicky staff members managed to get themselves stuck in a dark corner and suffocated to death. Or worse, Mr. Strauss using the opportunity to run off yet again. She’d have to find him first.

It hurt to breathe, so he didn’t. Strauss held his breath and blinked through the annoying haze of the smokescreen that filled the dormitory. It destroyed his sense of smell, and what was worse- his hearing was overwhelmed by the incessant alarm. He wanted to run from it. He needed to run from it. He kept one hand clamped over his unprotected ear, and with his eyes, ears and nose all shut he groped along the wall with his free hand, looking for the door.

There were more people here, all likewise clad in the ugly armor of the slayer. These were not the uniforms he had seen when he or Troy came abreast of security. Two of them spotted him and immediately leveled a rifle in his direction.

His senses were overwhelmed, his head swam in agony, it was easier to submit. He raised his hands and spread his claws wide.

“I yield! I yield! Please, do not harm me-”

A bright flash came and then a searing hot pain tore into his collarbone. He clamped his claw over the bullet wound and fell to the floor with a shriek of pain. He could feel the bullet inside of him like a slug of red hot metal. A silver munition. The gunman prepared to fire again. Strauss bolted forward and narrowly escaped a second shot. He never weighed much, but now, with sour adrenaline churning in the pit of his stomach, gravity barely touched him.

Down the hall at a sprint, and then a leap and a snarl, arms wide, landing and enveloping the shooter in a cloud of sharp edges. The silver threads of the armor stung his fingertips. Pain was a motivator. Break the shell, find the sweet nut-meat in the center. The second gunman was leveling his weapon. Strauss held the mauled body aloft in front of him.

Loud shots echoed in the smoky hall. Strauss felt the vibrations of them wrack his human shield. He threw the limp corpse into the second gunman who crumpled, pinned beneath the weight. Strauss bent over the heap and yanked the rifle from the struggling fool. He broke the weapon over his knee, sending bullets scattering. He took the spent butt end of the broken thing and rammed it into the remaining gunman’s head. Then rammed it again. And again.

The gunman’s skull gave way to a soft pulp. There was a lot of good blood in that pile. Blood he’d have to leave behind. He dug his claw into the wound in his chest and ripped out the burning bullet, along with a not insignificant hunk of his own flesh.

Pity. He liked this shirt.

Others were coming. That was not a quiet kill. Another shot narrowly missed the vampire. The haze and chaos had spared him their aim. He took off again down the hall. He thought of Artemis, and Troy, but there was little to be done. Besides, it was him they wanted. The further he was from his friends, the better. He escaped the dorms and ran towards the library.

Troy ripped the lids off of the screened aquariums that held the white lab mice that made up Strauss’ meals. He’d always sort of dreamed of doing this, truthfully. Strauss had to eat something, but that wasn’t important at the moment. Hopefully he had figured out what to do and got the Hell out.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and take them with you.” Artemis pleaded.

“No, just letting them go. Give them a fighting chance. They deserve that much.”

He upended the cages onto their sides and let the colonies of white rodents run free. Hopefully they, like Strauss, could be guided to safety by their instincts. Artemis set to work freeing the rest of them. Whatever. They’d deal with it later. If there was a later.

“Hold it right there.”

The two of them turned around to see a stranger in a strange yet oddly familiar outfit.

“The fuck are you?” Troy demanded.

“Director Van Helsing?” The stranger, demanded, ignoring Troy.

“Yes?” She stepped back, answering with a guarded tone.

“By the authority of the papacy and the Witchfinder’s alliance, I’m afraid I have to place you under arrest.”

“Bullshit.” Troy squared up.

“Troy, please. You’re making this worse.”

“What, you’re just going to listen to this fucker? Who even are you? The fuck is a witch getter or whatever your stupid name is?”

“Troy.”

The stranger drew a yellow taser from his coat. “I really recommend listening to the director on this one.”

“You’re not taking her.”

POP!

“Troy!” Artemis screamed as the taser sent electricity arcing through Troy’s body. He went stiff and fell to the ground with a grunt. The witchfinder grabbed him by the wrist and wrenched it behind his back to cuff him.

“Stop resisting!” He demanded, while Troy continued to groan in pain and struggle beneath him. “Stop resisting or you’re going to get tased again!”

“Stop! Stop! You have no idea what you’re doing! Get off of him!” Artemis grabbed the stranger and began to pull. The witchfinder dropped Troy, now cuffed, and turned to her.

“Interfering with the process isn’t gonna win you any favors Van Helsing.” He grabbed her by the wrist.

“Just listen to me! I’m trying to help you! We have to get away from him! We have to get out of here now!” She pleaded.

“He’s in cuffs, relax. I have it under control but I need you to-”

Clink- clink- clink. The sound of metal bracelets hitting the floor in pieces. There was a momentary silence, punctuated by ragged, heavy breathing. The witchfinder turned slowly to see Troy had burst from the cuffs, burst from his clothes, burst from his entire skin. A massive, hairy head full of massive pointy teeth gleamed down at him with ropes of angry drool framing the heaving jaws.

He fired his taser. The bolts hung uselessly in the thick hide of the lycan. Troy lurched forward and took the man’s entire head into his mouth, hoisted him into the air and began to shake him furiously.

Artemis curled into a ball and backed into a corner. Blood arced over the walls as the beast whipped his trophy back and forth until it was broken to gory pieces. He dropped the headless corpse with a disgusted grunt. The creature glared at Artemis, who only stared fearfully back at him. He turned from her and began to run back down the hall. Back into the smoke.

Strauss ran down the hall like a bat out of Hell. He knew he was being chased, he knew the building was full of these people. These slayers. Any corner could have an armed death dealer around it. The lighting in the halls grew a dull orange, and the smoke had not abated. The institute was on fire, well and truly, now.

He remembered the library, the criss cross pattern of ugly pipes on the embossed ceiling tiles from the fire suppression system. The brick walls and heavy door separating it from the newer portion of the building. He lacked a clear escape route, but this was the next best thing. Fire at least he could run from.

He burst through the library doors and finally allowed himself to take a breath. The world was quiet here. The sirens were a distant dull roar. He began to hunt for a hiding place. A shelter. The door swung noisily open behind him.

Another gunman stepped in. Strauss ducked his head and began to run. A dangerous breeze sailed over his head and tore through the pages of old books behind him. Another just missed his head and shattered a bookshelf, sending splinters into his face. Strauss grabbed a heavy tome, “Thurgood’s Illustrated Guide to the Erotic Vampire.” Ew. He threw it as hard as he could into the gunman. It struck true and bought him a moment of time.

He fled into the backroom of the library. The medical wing. He startled as the door opened, there was someone here? No. The figures were skeletons mounted on displays. Mummified heads. Skulls with mouths open in silent screams.

He was not, it seemed, the only vampire housed in the institute. There was precious little room to hide here. He was cornered. The shooter arrived looking angry and slightly bruised from a leather bound book to the head.

“Come on out Mr. Strauss.” He ordered.

The room was silent and still. Quietly, carefully the slayer made his way inside, weapon drawn. “I’ll take you alive if you surrender now. Make it easy on me, I’ll make it easy on you.”

The silence was unbroken, and the library was still. The slayer scanned the shelves and specimens with a quiet intensity, looking for movement. He stopped at one display. Very lifelike. He looked at it hard a moment and then raised his rifle to fire.

Strauss ducked from his makeshift hiding spot as the bullets ripped into a shelf of jarred specimens. Yellow preservative spilled across the floor in an explosion of glass and ruined organ meat. The gunman kept firing. An errant spark from the barrage caught the flammable fluid on the floor. It caught and spread in an instant and blanketed the floors and shelves in a tower of flames.

A loud alarm screeched to life. The pipes rattled and hissed, and the library was bathed instantly in a haze of fire suppressant.

No water came from the pipes. Dear Mrs. Harker, in all of her wisdom, would never risk her library to the perils of fire or water. Gas filled the room and smothered the flames. The slayer gasped and began to cough and choke as he was doused in it.

Strauss stepped out of the cloud of smoke and nitrogen and argon. The gunman fell to his knees and looked up with watery eyes at the predatory face that loomed above him. Strauss tilted his head curiously.

He grabbed the stranger by the scalp and raised the struggling man into the air. His jaw clicked as it opened wide, and he tore into his would be killer’s exposed neck. He had once watched Troy tear into a sweet, ripe watermelon with incredible gusto. He pictured it now. The red bits and fibers tearing and falling away. The pink juice, so incredibly sweet, running down his chin. So delicious, and yet so insubstantial, one could almost eat the entire thing before realizing it.

He dropped the spent body carelessly to the floor. Slowly, he padded towards the exit. He swayed in his steps as the heaviness of the meal and the intoxicating thrill of the kill swam in his system. He messily licked his claw clean and sucked his fingertips with a messy smacking sound. He leaned on the walls for support and left a trail of bloody handprints behind him.

The fire in the hallway had spread. The building wouldn’t last much longer. Strauss held his breath and began to jog through the halls. He cared little about the slayers anymore. They’d be dead soon in this, if they were foolish enough to stay. A burning ceiling collapsed in front of him. He stopped and ran back the other way. Fire climbed the walls. He began to panic. Had he escaped death by firing squad only to be burnt at the stake?

It was impossible to see through this, and increasingly impossible to even guide himself out by gripping the walls as the heat behind them built up and broke through as fire. He fell to the floor and began to crawl, finding a small gap of air beneath the blanket of smoke that he could see through.

Another figure appeared in front of him. He stopped- another slayer? This one wasn’t dressed like them. This figure wore a gas mask, and wasn’t in armor, and wasn’t armed. They came to him and began to pull him to his feet.

Could this be the fire department? He clung to them like a scared kitten. Fire caused another wall to noisily collapse behind him and he fell to his knees shaking in apparent terror.

The firefighter bent down and grabbed him, and hoisted him up and over their own shoulders in a fireman’s carry, and began to slowly but steadily plod with determination towards the south garage bay with the petrified vampire in tow.

They turned the corner and were met with a short wall of gunmen guarding the last of the exits. Three rifles in a row leveled and ready to make an end of their quarry. The firefighter skidded to a stop. Strauss held on for dear life.

Behind the gunmen came a terrible noise. It was something deep and reverberating like the motor of a large vehicle. The lycanthrope burst through the garage doors and slammed into the nearest slayer like a freight train, sending him sprawling. The other two began to fire in a panic but heedless of the crossfire. One struck the other, before a mighty paw came down on top of him and slammed his head into the concrete floor. The last, wounded gunman was grabbed and dragged screaming back into the garage.

The firefighter hesitated a moment, but then resolutely went into the bay after them. They stumbled over a shredded limb, and followed the trail of blood deeper into the bay. They dumped Strauss onto the floor.

“Get up and walk. I’m too old for this nonsense.”

“Frau Harker?”

She pulled off the gas mask. “I was hoping I’d find you with Artie. Where is she?”

“I hoped she was with you. What is happening?”

“I’ll tell you when we have a moment. Needless to say it is ENTIRELY your fault but I’ll kill you myself later when this is over.”

A vehicle was chosen. An SUV. Strauss climbed into the back seat and curled into a nervous ball with his knees against his chest. The truck began to move, but Ursula slammed on the brakes and opened the door.

“Artie! Artie over here!”

Artemis came out of her hiding spot and ran to them. The screams of Troy’s victim were silent, but his infuriated roars were filling the bay with sound.

“We have to help Troy. We can’t just leave him here!”

“We’ll leave the door open and he’ll find his own way out. Do you want to go grab him?”

It was all the convincing she needed. She jumped into the front seat and they began to speed away before the garage door even opened completely. There was a ring of strange trucks around the door, and many more strangers in strange uniforms. They lept out of the way of the speeding car, but were quickly distracted by what appeared to be a grizzly bear tearing out of the building and into the terrified rabble.

“We’re just going to leave him to fend for himself?” Strauss demanded as the scene grew smaller and smaller behind them.0

“Lycans are much harder to kill than vampires. He’ll be fine.”

“The town might not be if he gets to it.”

“All we can do is hope he remembers his training.”

“Frau Harker, what happened? Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. We’re going to drive till we can’t and then we’re going to figure it out. Are they following us?”

Strauss looked out the back window. “No. I think they are distracted by Troy. If they harm him in any way I will kill them all.”

“They’re probably going to be on the receiving end of the harm, given how poorly equipped they were.” Ursula huffed. Artemis sat in stunned silence in her seat.

Strauss reached his hand up to hers, she grasped it, and held on, and continued holding on for many miles.

#wayward souls #writing #original fiction #this one is a doozy

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toast-tales · 1 month

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Cursed Cravings, Chapter 3: Master of the House

In which Danny meets the ever-so-charming owner of the strange mansion, and gets offered a deal to save her friend. Contains: ~2.1k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

At least screaming was out of the question, not while she seemed to barely be able to breathe in the first place. This was surreal. This wasn’t normal. But your eyes could only play so many tricks on you before you had to accept that what was standing before you was not an illusion, but a reality you had to face.

And face it she would.

“Hey,” she said simply, wondering if the giant man could even hear her from all the way across the entryway. Surely her voice would be nothing louder than the squeak of a mouse to him. “I’m looking for my friend Nathan. Someone…said they could help?”

If I just talk to him like a normal guy, it’s less scary, right? He’s just a normal guy. Danny was at least quite adept at taking her own fear and crushing it up into a ball, shoving it under the rug of feigned confidence. She forced her own stiff posture to loosen, her arms crossing over each other in as casual a manner as she could manage. A small part of her wondered if she should address him more formally, because based on his dress and the state of the manor alone he at least seemed important, but she didn’t know how rich people talked to each other anyways. She’d never gotten so much as a glimpse of high society, and even if she had, she wouldn’t have the patience for it. Certainly not now, when she’d been traveling all day in the cold and had nearly reached the end of her rope as it was.

The giant chuckled, taking a few more steps toward her before he stopped in the middle of the room, and though he was still a ways away, Danny still had to crane her neck upwards just to meet his eyes—dark, and dancing with humor along with an upturned smirk on his face. “Slow down there, doll. We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet.” It wasn’t the same voice she’d been hearing before—he spoke with a low, quiet pitch, each word articulated clearly and deliberately.

She repressed a grimace as best she could at the way he addressed her—despite her current stature and every survival instinct in her body, she felt the urge to punch him right in the gut.

He gestured lightly to himself with a graceful arch of his fingers against his chest. “My name is Christopher Penn, and I am the lord of this estate.”

He did not, however, ask Danny for her own name. Instead, he took a few more steps toward her and, so quickly that she did not have enough time to form an initial protest, he bent down and picked her up, placing her in his palm as he rose to his full height again.

For just a moment, she didn’t think about the fact that she was a hundred feet off the ground. All she could focus on was the absolutely unparalleled, brazen gall that this man had to just pluck her off the ground like she was some child’s toy. Her lips curled in an unfriendly snarl. “I don’t care who the fuck you are, but you’d better ask next time you try and pick me up like that.”

Being a little closer to his face now, she made note of the fact that this guy’s stupid big nose did look incredibly punchable. If only there wasn’t a hundred-foot drop between her and it.

She forced herself to keep her glare fixed entirely on Christopher, to prevent herself from looking down or showing signs of panic. She did not think about how strange it felt to have the warm surface beneath and behind her consist of a man’s entire hand, or how she could feel every groove and crease in the skin that her own hands pressed against.

“It’s not very becoming to begin a conversation with such vulgar language.” A sharp grin told her he was only amused by her antics, though, not offended—even so, he tilted his head, almost as if her behavior confused him as well.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she hissed. She was liking this strange giant less and less every time he opened his mouth. “I must have forgotten my manners midway through the air. Is that from the same rich person etiquette book that says it's okay to pick up people without asking?”

Irritation and anger were a great distraction from fear, and so she leaned into both now, regardless of the consequence. She had some small amount of pride to maintain, and quaking before this man in terror would only serve to shatter what remained of it.

He chuckled—a deep sound that she could almost feel travel through her body, now that she sat in his palms. “Sarcasm, hm? I’m impressed by your bravery. Most people tend to prefer screaming and running.”

“Oh, you’re telling me screaming is the usual response people have to you? Gee, I wonder why,” she said dryly. “Must be your natural charm.”

His sharp eyes flicked over her, a hint of their humor dulled slightly. “You said you were looking for your friend, correct?”

“Yes,” she groaned, exasperated. How many times had she said as much since finding this place? It was beginning to feel like the question was being deliberately dodged. “My friend, Nathan Hayes. He was traveling this way earlier this morning, and his horse returned without him. Have you seen him? Whoever spoke to me outside seemed to know where he was. Maybe you can just let me talk to them instead,” she grumbled quietly, trying to dampen her distaste for this stuck-up rich bastard as much as possible in the interest of acquiring any sort of help in finding Nathan. She couldn’t very well bite the hand that fed her—or, more accurately, picked her up and carried her at a height that would make even a high-flying bird a little nauseous.

Her instinct was to lash out at people who talked down to her, but even she knew when she needed to swallow her pride.

Something inscrutable passed across Christopher’s face for a moment as he seemed to absorb her words thoughtfully, as if she’d given him some clue in a particularly interesting mystery he was trying to solve. And then he gave her that sharp smile again, a grin that tipped just a little further than cordiality normally permitted. Yet it still didn’t reach his eyes—which regarded her in a strangely calculating, detached manner.

“There’s no need for that,” he remarked impassively. “Your friend is here.”

For just a moment, her irritation faded away to the overwhelming euphoria of relief, like a bucket of cold water had been poured over her and washed it away in an instant. Nathan was here. She’d found him. He was—

Why was he here?

As suddenly as the relief had come, she covered it with a heavy cloak of suspicion, something beginning to claw at the back of her mind distrustfully. “...and you’ll take me to him, right? He’s safe? …we can leave?”

She didn’t like the idea of traveling at night, no, but she was in no rush to accept hospitality from this man, either. She would feel much better once all this magic, giant weirdness was far behind her, a forgotten tale she could think back on as some kind of fever dream brought on by the cold, or the fact that she couldn’t remember when she’d eaten last.

Christopher, to her dismay, lifted Danny a little higher so that she no longer had to tilt her head back to look at him straight on.

“I’m afraid not.”

Anger wasn’t even the first emotion to flare up this time—she was completely baffled by such a stark response that she was rendered speechless for a moment, staring at him with her mouth slightly agape. “...why?”

“Your friend came here uninvited this morning, trespassing into my home. His punishment is to remain here in my service, as long as I require him.” Christopher’s smirk turned to a more matter-of-fact expression, like the humorless countenance of a lawyer. “So no, I’m afraid I can’t let you leave with him at this time.”

A heavy weight sank to the very pit of Danny’s stomach as she listened in disbelief. Nathan was here as this guy’s…what, prisoner? Slave? She didn’t believe for one second that what the giant said was true—Nathan wasn’t the type to impose on others. He’d apologize for someone else bumping into him on the street, there was no way he’d wander into someone’s home uninvited unless he was desperate. And even then, Danny wasn’t sure he wouldn’t choose freezing to death over being an inconvenience to anyone. Why would he have stopped at this house anyways? Had he gotten hurt? Had he been looking for help? He certainly wouldn’t have broken in.

“...bullshit,” she hissed, a righteous anger rising up in her. If she had been at all confident in her footing, she would have attempted to stand up and take on a more intimidating posture, but she would take the slightly undignified position of sitting in Christopher’s palm over the much more undignified falling onto her face in his palm, or the loss of all dignity entirely by plummeting to the floor in a humiliating splatter of shame and stupidity. “You expect me to believe that? Nathan’s a good guy, he wouldn’t break into your stupid house.”

She set her jaw defiantly. “And even if I did believe you, he was probably desperate, or lost, or needed help. Are you really that fucking selfish, punishing someone instead of helping them? As if he’s in any way actually a threat or a burden to your sorry giant ass?”

Nothing she said seemed to even make a dent in Christopher’s uncaring expression, her insults and slights at his character seeming to fall on deaf ears. His smile twitched and his eyebrows raised in mild contempt. “You’re quite bold, you know. Speaking like that to someone of my standing. And to a giant, no less.”

His free hand came up to pluck her off of his palm, effectively pinning her arms to her sides in his grip so that she couldn’t even scratch and claw at him like she suddenly quite desperately wanted to. She could only thrash about uselessly, though her violent movement was quelled slightly as her feet made contact with nothing but air. As she dangled in front of Christopher’s face, she realized that his grip was the only thing keeping her from a horrifyingly long freefall.

“A less patient man might not tolerate that kind of talk,” he muttered dangerously, his thumb pressing lightly against her collarbone and forcing her to meet his eyes, which remained lightly amused despite the darkened tone he’d taken on. “But, luckily for you, I’m rather generous, and I’m nothing if not fair.”

She only glared at him in response, an absolutely twisted and poisonous scowl distorting her face. Words seemed almost too good for this bastard, and so she took on a disdainful and stubborn silence instead.

His grip around her loosened slightly, still restricting her movement and keeping her firmly from falling but no longer forcing her neck into an uncomfortable position. This must have been his supposed “generosity” at work.

His eyes narrowed slightly, assessing her with an even, shrewd gaze. “I’ll make you a deal. You stay in his place, and I’ll let him go free. How’s that, doll?”

She would have spat in his face if she were closer. Instead, she seethed silently, though a frightened worry began to cloud her thinking. She hadn’t even seen Nathan yet, but the description the other voice had given her had been uncannily accurate. That couldn’t be a coincidence. And while this giant could be lying about a lot of things, Danny was very aware that she had little choice but to believe him. She couldn’t very well overpower him, or even escape on her own now.

She refused to let her mind linger long on the choice—when her own life and wellbeing were weighed against that of her close friend, the rocksteady, kind, and loyal companion she’d known for years, who’d taken care of her through thick and thin like she were his very own sister, the decision was as easy as breathing.

“My name is Danny, you smarmy bastard. And if what you say is true, I’ll…”

She swallowed the last bit of her pride, closing her eyes for a second in one last act of defiance so she didn’t have to look at the rich prick’s face when she spoke.

“...I’ll take his place here. Just let. Him. Go.”

The giant smiled—a wide, cocky smirk that showed too many of his teeth for Danny’s liking. “Deal.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Next chapter ->

We still haven't seen Nathan. Hopefully he's okay?

Thanks for reading, and see you next week with chapter 4, Small Mercies!

#cursed cravings #itwom #itwom au #beauty and the beast au #g/t writing #vore writing #vore stories #g/t stories #nonsexual vore #sfw vore #soft vore

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

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Jungkook:

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝 Part 1: I hate you

You hate how he acts, how he talks, how he treats you- like some dumb girl that's stupid enough to fall into his claws. But you're not that stupid. Or are you?

Tags/Warnings: mc hates kook, Angst, enemies to ???, past regrets, miscommunication, Fluff?, slow burn, sugar daddy Jungkook vibes, minor age gap, sexual thoughts, there's tension baby

Length: ~2k.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

If Jungkook wasn't 5'10" and basically spending half his time awake at the gym, you'd definitely fight him. Slap him at least- but again, only if he wasn't tall enough for you to need a chair to reach him.

He just gets onto your nerves.

His attitude, the way he carries himself, the way he acts as if he's in control of the entire room, even if there's people in it that are twice his age. Nothing seems to ever bother him, nothing makes him angry, or upset, or anything- he always has that shit-eating smirk on his face, making him oh-so punchable in your opinion. He's so aware of his own charming nature and ability to sweet-talk anyone into doing what he wants them to, that it just feels utterly unfair to you. Sure, he's attractive- but only visually so, on the surface level. As soon as he opens his filthy mouth to talk and brag about all the different adventures he's already been on (inside the bedroom and in general), you just want to vomit.

He's a fuckboy, deserving to get his penis bitten off.

Okay, maybe that's a bit drastic- but he's just incredibly irritating to you. Mostly because you just don't know where you both stand; He tends to belittle you in an odd manner that makes you confused if he's being nice or teasing you, whether he's offering an insult or a compliment. And the worst of all is that whenever he does outright give you praise of any kind, which mostly happens very fleetingly so you almost don't notice it, you can't get it out of your head for days.

It sticks to you like gum.

You remember, for example, when he had simply called you a 'good girl' after you had caught his credit card as it had slipped out of his hands and tumbled underneath his car- a place he would've had a lot more trouble with reaching than you, considering the height difference between the two of you. This moment, the tone of his voice, the slight chuckle he'd given you, the brush of his fingers against yours - it had stayed with you for almost an entire week after it had happened.

You hate this. It's ridiculous.

Jungkook is the brother of your former best friend - the two of you back in school - inseparable, but with her moving out of the country to pursue her studies, you simply lost touch. Jungkook, however, stayed behind, obtaining a large share in a pretty successful company, smart decisions, and hard work having brought him into the position he is in today. He doesn't need to worry about money any longer, and he won't ever have to again if he plays things smart, It led to him deciding to invest into things he knows will retain value overtime, making him buy a high-end apartment in Seoul's prettiest neighborhood- which is why when a waterpipe had broken in your old apartment, he'd been your last hope of finding somewhere to stay for the time it would take to fix and renovate the damage, your own flimsy savings not enough to cover weeks of hotel costs. It had surprised him, you know that - but you also remember how surprisingly kind he'd been, always making sure that you were comfortable. But with that also came frustration - because sometimes he acts as if he's older by a lot more than is actually the case between you both. Sure, he's already almost thirty, putting almost six years between you both, but still. You're not a stupid girl, and he should stop treating you like one.

For some reason, that's why your hatred really keeps burning.

Maybe because he just belittles you at any chance he gets. He seemingly refuses to see you as a woman, always describes you as a little girl, never takes you seriously. That, combined with your not so small crush you've had on him ever since your school days, just simply doesn't mix well. You hate this.

You hate him.

And unbeknownst to you, it's mutual.

Jungkook fucking hates you too.

He hates how you flaunt your figure any chance you get, just like now, as you're sitting on his friend's couch next to himself, naked thighs on full display for everyone in the room to see, black shorts living up to their name by being disgustingly short in his opinion. He's also sure you've skipped a bra for the movie night this time- your slightly perked nipples pushing against the fabric of your baggy shirt, freely moving tits underneath the black item of clothing just begging for his touch it seems. You're always like this, as if to mock him with what he can never have for himself, completely immune to any of his advances that it just made him stop trying at this point. What's the use for his charms if they just make you laugh at him at the end of the day?

He hates you so fucking much.

Especially now, with you so comfortable next to him. It's like your dynamic has shifted over the past six months- mutual friends making you hang out more often than not, and while you'd been so deliciously shy and easily flustered around him before, nowadays, it feels like you've kicked him right into the friendzone, no joke of his getting under your skin any longer. He knows you think Jimin is kind of cute- but he didn't think that it was enough to make you move on from him this fast. Or maybe he had hoped it wouldn't.

He's aware of your crush on himself after all. He's been relishing in it for a long time, his career and the falling out of touch with his sister and you after she'd started her studies abroad the main cause of him never making his move. He'd been waiting, pushing it further and further and further in front of him instead of doing something.

And now? It feels like he's lost his chance.

"Gimme that-" You whine so cutely, leaning over his lap to grab the bag of peach snacks from Taehyung sitting on the floor, and yes, now Jungkook can be one hundred percent sure- you're definitely braless, softness of your chest flush against his thigh for a moment, warmth seeping through the fabric of his sweatpants and making him internally rip his hair out. He's glad he's got some good self-control under his belt, otherwise he'd surely pop a boner right here and now, embarrassing himself in front of his best friends and you as well. Or maybe you'd be impressed. Who knows. How much could you even take in terms of.. size?

But oh, it gets so much worse, because it has become your life's mission to just make him suffer it seems.

You now decide to simply lay over his lap now- body warm over his thighs while you swing your legs back and forth behind you, fluffy socks on your feet hitting your butt every now and then while you're talking to Taehyung about some mistakes in the movie's plot- though Jungkook himself is not listening, the rhythmic rocking of your body over his legs from your own movements too much to handle for a simple mortal like himself. All he can think about is how much he just wants to spank the living hell out of you right in this position- hand itching to just place itself palm flat over one cheek and just, squeeze until you yelp.

You'd make such cute noises, he just knows. He'd been getting those little teasers of them all the time, after all. How much would it take for him to make you scream? And how much further could he push you until you're just fucked too stupid to form any sounds at all?

That thought alone spirals out of control in his head as he's suddenly getting visions of you underneath him, hands bound to the bedpost and body flushed and wet with sweat while he pounds into you until you're bruised. He hopes you like it rough- because he's sure if he ever got his hands on you, he'd push you to your limits and maybe even beyond, his hand grabbing your hair while he'd make you gag on his cock until you cry.

"Move a little, I gotta use the bathroom." Jungkook grunts, careful but strong in his actions as he maneuvers you off his lap so he can escape for a second, or two, or maybe he just needs to leave entirely because fuck.

He hates this.

Every time he's got someone over to try and somehow fuck it out of his system, all he can see is you, and it's becoming a problem. It makes him suffer continuously, unable to cum if he doesn't think of you in any way- and it's embarrassing to admit to himself, no pleasure enough for him if his brain isn't allowed to connect you to it.

He doesn't know how long he can take this. He has to get out of here right fucking now- he can't just jerk off now because he knows how flushed he gets afterwards, there's simply no way he could ever hide that from anybody. Why do you have to even look like that tonight? Why can't you just leave him alone?

Well, that one's easy.

He wont let you.

It's like he's turning from the sadist into the masochist every time you're with him like this, the pain and torture he has to endure completely his own choice at the end of the day. He knows you're like this, it's nothing new to him- you feel comfortable and relaxed around him, and he likes that, he feels honored by it in a way, really. But it's also a terrible curse, when in times like these, he can't even slightly hope for some divine intervention to give him that k-drama worthy experience of mind-blowing emotional sex after a heartfelt confession of love. He won't get that, because those fucking idiots always seem to be there to ruin it for him.

And whenever he's alone with you, he pretty much forgets about it, as stupid as it sounds.

He likes taking you along to trips and travels he's got to go on; not only for the sake of company, but also because you deserve to see the world and experience those luxuries as well. He likes spoiling you, he enjoys taking care of you in any way you allow him to- and yet, it again bites his ass like an untrained dog because it makes him loose his initial goal completely. It falls out of sight every time, and looking back at it, maybe it's just karma. It's a higher power punishing him for being so goddamn stupid every time.

He slept in the same hotel room with you for fuck's sake. He helped you tie your hair one time, routinely takes off your jewelry whenever he takes you along to expensive dinners. All of those perfect moments to make a move- and yet he never does.

Probably never will.

"You heading out already?" Jimin asks as everyone now turns to look at him as he grabs his jacket and car keys, walking over to where you're stills prawled out on the couch before he grabs his phone.

"Yeah, forgot I have a meeting tomorrow early, sorry." He simply apologizes, before he makes a goodbye gesture and heads out, door closing behind him.

"Bullshit." You mumble more or less to yourself. "Fucking liar. He's got the day off." You complain, and Taehyung laughs.

"Why so mad about it?" He wonders, poking at your stomach. "Little baby already miss her dad-"

"Don't you fucking finish that sentence kim taehyung!" You instantly argue, tackling him on the floor to playfight him-

all while Jungkook questions his life choices s he reaches home himself. There's no way his fucking boner is still present even after the entire drive home- and it makes him have to come up with a plan. Maybe this really is just simply sexual frustration and nothing else. Maybe just screwing you will help him become able to move on with his life.

The only question now is; how does he get you under his spell?

#jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #hatred au

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theheromira · 8 months

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Nimona Movie appreciation post (Part 2 of idk how many)

Sooo, here's part 2 ^^ another pic for attention ;)

the whole first interaction of Nim and Bal is pure gold, also that "jumpscare" with the music in the background, like I already said: Christophe Beck (and everyone in the music department of the movie for that matter) did a more than amazing job

"Did it bleed a lot? Did they let you keep the old one?" Nimonas expression just XD and Bal also answering her with a "No"

Loving Nims lil laugh when she says "Little girls?" and her just casually stopping the saw with her arm

the whole interaction with that little girl/how old he thinks she is

you'd like it to stay that way, yeeaah sure, you gotta just have that one 1000+ years old child

I love how Bal says kebab

also: where did Nim get the paper, there is some gold symbols etched in, almost looks like stationary from somewhere?

"Up here"

the whole to-be-your-sidekick-speech

also great foreshadowing with the phoenix and stuff

also Bal regretting his life choices while Nim does her lil speech and then him being jumpscared by the plate she throws against the wall

also that is a veeery clean plate for that kind of dreary place but hey, I'm also a very picky person when it comes to plate (and utensil) cleanliness (just gastronomy things in my case I guess lol)

Bals face after "Or we could just… talk"

The punchable face scene lol

all the little details of the innocence-wall

"Yeees!", looks at shattered bottle he wanted to kill the intruder with (probably), throw it away

Love how she seems disappointet that he isn't a villain but sshe already decided to adopt him, so it doesn't really matter to her anymore if he is or not

"It's complicated" 1x

Character-in-a-movie-says-he-won't-do-something-only-to-do-exactly-that-in-the-next-scene-clicheé (which I always love btw)

"I love lunch" lol same

the Director is such a good actor but in retrospect I really noticed how she speaks about Bal ("someone like you could be a hero" I mean, how that flew over my head the first time around I don't really know) or to the other knights ("you act like common children" as if there is a difference between normal children and those of commoners/as if commoners are not worth as much as them)

spotting Nim in rat-form when Bal asks for a chance blew my mind the second (or third) time I watched the movie

No matter what you try, if people think one way about you, you're always gonna be that in their eyes is a lesson I also learned when I was really young and ngl that's probably one of the things that made me be a completely different person when I'm not on the internet, soo… that's also one reason I can relate and why I love this movie so much

"I gotta hand it to ya.", she says and hands him his arm lol

Violence is also a code

loving the little noise she makes after she says "You know there's no toilet in there"

the whole murder 'em/ hide scene

"That's a hard No" made me laugh way to much

that whole break out scene until "They were like this when I got here" lol best break out scene of all time

Nims joke with the club of the one armed XD also the lights reflecting in her eyes as a little foreshadowing that she's not human

Nim casually knocking out that one knight with the axe

Bal reacting to her plan like: "Of course. The old something, something, something, we win." As if he alreay knows that plan and you can't convince me that that wouldn't be because Amb likes/ liked/ used to make plans like that

#netflix nimona #nimona #nimona ballister #nimona film #gay knights #nimona spoilers #goldenheart #appreciation

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inkdemonapologist · 2 months

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Ok. A hypothetical scenario if you'll indulge me. You are a casting director on the movie. You are familiar with the material and you are asked to present some actors to the crew- *besides JK Simmons who everybody thinks should play Joey I guess?* who do you suggest and for what role?

I don't know any actors other than The Guy With The Cool Lips Who Played Scarecrow That One Time, so setting me up as casting director would be a questionable decision! I feel like the very tiny amount we know about this movie also makes this difficult; like, am I casting Sammy in 1932, Sammy in 1946, Ink Sammy, all three?

So, rather than picking specific famous people, some broader thoughts on what elements to prioritise?? as hypothetical casting director. For sake of this exercise we're going to take this all very seriously and pretend that the writing for this movie is already great lmao.

Joey: Ironically for the first BatIM character to get a canon human appearance, I think Joey's acting chops are more important than his looks; as long as makeup can do a decent moustache and the voice is good, the energy is what will really sell him. Joey Drew is both VERY important to get right and also the most complex character in the Bendy Franchise, but he's also really really easy to turn into a stereotype, and I feel like this implication of "obviously he should be played by the guy who played J Jonah Jameson" kinda speaks to how easy it is to see just one side of him. Joey is simultaneously ruthless but also disarmingly charming, likeable but also punchable, confident but also pathetically insecure, genuine but also manipulative -- it seems like a tricky energy to nail. If he doesn't have a sharpness to him, that Curiosity Where Empathy Should Be element, you've erased a really important part of the man behind so many nightmares; if he's a cartoon evil capitalist, then everyone who believes in his dreams looks stupid for falling for something so obvious. Whoever plays him has to be able to get in his head AND ALSO convey that nuance. But if you have the luxury of nitpicking appearance after that, I think it's worth noting that Joey doesn't look the way he's trying to look. I keep saying I'm obsessed with his overbite in BatDR, but like:

See? Henry's the one with that aggressive strong jaw facial structure. Compared to him, even this less-aged Joey has facial structure more like mine, with a weaker chin that gives the impression of an overbite and a shorter face (which, to be clear, are attractive traits, but they are definitely not the Stereotypical Energy for this character archetype) -- he just knows how to carry himself to give off that j jonah jameson energy. I think attention to that kind of detail would also help him be his own fascinating character instead of just shoving him into an existing archetype.

Henry: If it's Ink Henry, his vibes are the most important. This character is famously non-emotive, often to an inappropriate extent, and frankly I think whoever plays him should keep that as part of his character. Henry strikes me as someone who wants to be kind but he's so, so tired, and just looking at this guy needs to sell that because Henry's actual behaviour and dialogue won't.

If it's Actually Worked In The Studio Henry, then I think his voice and appearance need to be SPOT. ON. so that they can play him a little differently and it still works rather than just not feeling like Henry. If he sounds like a perfect Henry but he has more energy, he's still quiet but he's more confident, he's not the follower Joey tried to sell him as... that would be such a neat thing to leave as an implied reveal for fans -- that the Henry we know is either a dishonest representation, or changed by his experiences, and is actually a bit different from the man Joey worked with.

Susie: they won't do this because they're cowards, but I personally think Susie would be such a good candidate for protagonist of a Bendy movie..... anyway if human Susie is in it, she doesn't have a canon appearance so you have a lot of freedom here. Most important thing is that She Has The Range; she needs to be able to be both believably naive and starry-eyed in a likeable way rather than coming across as desperate or annoying, and she ALSO needs to have a ruthless energy in her so that her later Womens Wrongs don't come out of nowhere. If Twisted Alice AND Susie both make appearances, I'm torn on whether they should be played by the same person... it could be cool if they were, since then you could see a lot of Susie in Alice even when she's behaving VERY DIFFERENTLY, which I think would humanise Alice in a good way (and also humanise Susie as more than just a Sweet Naive Girl Who Was Tricked)

Either way Twisted Alice NEEDS TO BE HOT. IM NOT JOKING I THINK THIS IS THE PRIORITY. Yes yes half her face is melting, but her vibes are UNIRONICALLY "hot and evil and wants to vivisect someone." Like, it would also be nice to get someone who can play her with dimension, with an implication that she has reason to be a cartoon evil sexy person who flies into a shrieking rage beyond just women be crazy (which is kind of what she is in the games), but also, she IS a cartoon evil sexy person and you CAN'T lose that; she needs to be able to pull off EVIL AND HOT with half her face gone without it feeling like a parody. Lesbians in the audience need to fan themselves. ITS VERY IMPORTANT.

I don't have a ton of thoughts about Allison. We have a pretty specific physical description of her human self. She needs to have enough ethereal poise to justify the lovesick way she is described in every novel lmao. Allison Angel, though, is where I would put a priority of Needs A Character Actor i think; she's a fairly major character but it's so hard to get a good handle on what she actually like..... wants or feels beyond Helping The Protagonist and Being A Good Person, but if she could really sell the bits and pieces so well you believe it, so that she really seems like she's been harshened by the brutal world she lives in but genuinely values a hope she won't let go of, it could make the character really good.

Sammy.............. Well, it's hard to not be biased. But human Sammy has no canon appearance, so I think you can't go wrong there as long as you pick someone who could conceivably be described as "pointy", and I PERSONALLY think based on the little crumbs of description we've gotten that a human Sammy should be fairly distinctive and intense, attractive in a Strange way - but I think the really really important thing for Sammy (ink or human) is his vocal performance. This is a character who took off in popularity in large part because of a couple of really compellingly delivered monologues; Sammy's voice NEEDS to be right, especially when he's speaking quietly. I think physicality in the sense of How He Moves is ALSO really important for him; Sammy's wiggle-fingers in game and constantly odd descriptions in the novels and complete lack of personal space in both all imply that he moves Strangely, and I do think he should have an unsettling Renfield energy, but it's also so easy for Character Who Is Losing His Mind to get portrayed so over-the-top that it becomes goofy or unbelievable or weird for the sake of being "creepy". Sammy's energy shouldn't be Insane Batman Villain, it should be Doomed Guy In A Lovecraft Story -- it's just that nobody but him is in a lovecraft story.

there are other characters but I think these are all the ones i have thoughts on

#also in an ideal world human sammy's actor would be autistic #its not important but sammys so defined by Not Fitting and Not Being Understood #that i think that insight could rly add some intangible humanity to him #anyway #i know you have questions you always do

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