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Hey, please tell me your thoughts on Dinosquad, I want to hear them so much.

I love/reluctantly watch it

So many inaccuracies. The autism episode was a one off, they should've had more disability representation. I think it would've been cool if ms Moynihan was an amputee. If she and veloci have been around for that long, one of them is bound to have lost a limb at some point, and I don't want it to be Victor, disabled villain trope and all. (If they rewrite and make her an amputee) They should also consult an amputee when writing ms Moynihan. She should also have a bunch of trauma of we're assuming that she lived through both ww1 and ww2

I want an episode where they slowly piece this together, and they realise that she's better at hiding it than they thought. They also debate getting her therapy, but realise she'll be seen as mad (not just the dino thing, but the experiencing ww1 and ww2), so they take it upon themselves to learn how to help, they learn from ms Moynihan that she prefers them to communicate what they're doing, as she was concerned about them potentially slacking. Or it's better written, as I don't know her character all too well

I ramble, sorry (but not really)

I think I love the concept of it, and wish to at least vocalise (? This is a text post so idk) how I wish it was done. also, hc that Victor only transforms his head in front of employees bc his raptor form embarasses him because they expect him to be bigger, and his intimidation no longer works (rewrite au)

If I had to make my own au of x men evolution, I’d make Todd based off of the Vijayan's night frog, and I’d make him really short (the frogs are tinyyyyy)

I’d also make Kurt’s tail stronger looking, and more like a monkeys tail (still with the arrow shape like a spear tho)

and I want to give kurt an arc where he learns to not insult others based off of their appearance. His arc would be slow, span a few ‘episodes’

maybe he gets stuck with Todd and has to escape an angry, mutant hating group, and they end up really far away, lost cus they were distracted with escaping

they then slowly get to know each other a bit better, learn they’re not so different, and that Todd has it harder that him in some ways

(in the au, Todd ran away from his family bc they keep ignoring his struggles (like sensitive skin that absorbs things like frog skin does, dietary needs, allergies due to his mutation, etc), but the brother hood are his family now)

and kurt just has a moment where it (the brotherhood’s behaviour) all clicks

also, the possibilities for Todd’s frog species are insane

there’s the flying frog (they actually glide tho), the glass frog, poison dart frogs ( hc that in a universe where he is a dart frog, he’d be non poisonous due to not eating the diet he’d need for his body to build up the chemicals, though he could use chemicals to do it), red eyed tree frog, purple frog, Indian bullfrog, hairy frog, etc

I like to imagine he’s tried to eat one of his friend’s (the brotherhood’s) fingers after frog brain mistook it for a worm

"ONBOARDING"

[A/N: Seriously guys, there is no reason why Alucard should be so hard to write XD. He (in cannon) is such a discordant, confusingly consistent mess, OMG. Though I suppose that’ll happen after centuries of consuming souls…Well, at least he’s found a job that he loves! Also, reader is female and American]

“B-by myself!?”

You were at a loss for words. Asset management, training, recruitment. For the latter, you weren’t even sure of the logistics behind that. How could you run an entire HR department by yourself!? The background of the elegant room, the somber undertones, and the echo of your voice did nothing to salve the already desperate disposition of your nerves. As the smoke from the cigar of the steely eyed woman across from you dissipated into the air, a naughty thought appeared:Maybe the reason she puffs on that foul-smelling bundle of herbs is because of the stick she keeps up her—Suddenly, you felt the advance of many tiny legs up your arm and instinctively moved to swat away the possible offender. Nothing…

"Is that a problem?"The woman said as another puff of smoke left her plump lips. The unyielding nature of her gaze pinned you to the spot.The way her blue eyes bore into yours and the enunciation of your name made it clear that she dared you to respond. You did not.The decision was already made for you.There was no getting out of this. "You are to ensure the proper conduct of all personnel under the employ of my organization. You will be solely responsible for the results of this endeavour, be it success or failure. If the conditions in which you will do so do not accommodate your skill, then consider yourself terminated. If this is not the case, you are dismissed".

The openness of the hallway was a refreshing reprieve. Walking a short distance away from Sir Integra's office, you caught your bearings and reflected on your circumstances. "I guess that means I'm hired..."

You walked down a corridor, not really having a destination in mind. You just needed to think. ‘Am I really cut out for this?’ It all just felt so overwhelming. What if you failed? How would you be able to afford to get back home? Could you go back home? Already, the familiar warmth of tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes.

The eerie silence of the hallways seemed to swallow you whole as the weight of your uncertainty bore down. Your muffled footsteps left soft thuds against the carpeted marble floor, the only sound breaking the oppressive quiet. As if sensing your distress, the door lining the corridor slowly creaked open and beckoned you forth, revealing dimly lit rooms. Shadows danced within, casting an unsettling atmosphere that matched your turbulent thoughts. The soft yellow glow of the hallway lights bounced off of your ID badge and mixed with its myriad of colors. Your eyes traced over the hard piece of plastic, already sick of seeing the organization’s namesake. You shook your head. No, you can't think like this anymore! Stop with the negative self-talk! You’re not in America anymore— this is your chance to start again and prove yourself. You deserved to be here! As you continued to wander, the air within the building began to grow colder and clammier. The sudden oppressiveness of the atmosphere made even breathing uncomfortable. ‘What's going on?’ From your periphery, a particular painting caught your eye. It was of an aristocratic woman. Elegant and tall. Though beautiful, something was off. The eyes...Why were they red? You stood under the painting, observing it like a child would an attraction. Though sizable, you felt like the painting’s dwarfing effect couldn’t exactly be attributed to the painting's breadth.

"I see you've discovered Lady Integra's collection." For a short time, your surroundings were a blur as your eyes searched for the new variable.Your sights found its prize when it rested on the source of the rich baritone and smokey cologne: A man. As his chiseled jawline, silky raven hair, and broad shoulders emerged from the darker corners of the hall, more of his appearance came to light. Atop his dark tresses, laid a red wide brimmed hat that matched his red duster , and underfoot, were long leather boots. To complete the man’s strange ensemble, was his pair of orange sunglasses that reflected a brilliant sunset orange amongst the backdrop of shadows. Was this a popular dress style in England? You regarded the strange man with a level of suspicion, allowing the swell of goose pimples that were beginning to form to justify your apprehension. Clearly, this man must be an employee here; after all, he just spoke of Sir Integra. But where is his ID badge? You released a cold puff of air and gathered yourself.

“Y-yes, I have. It’s quite beautiful.” After a short pause, the man gives an appreciative hum. He approached the painting- and by extension, you- with measured strides.Though you tried not to make it obvious, the way your eyes tracked every inch of the man’s movement made your anxiety palpable. You eyed the man’s Adam’s Apple as it bobbed, like he was drinking in your fear. You chided yourself for the silly thought. Peeking through the sides of his glasses, you swore you saw crimson. It’s just a trick of the light.

“Aye, it is, isn't it? A true testament to humanity's will to rebuke what is their natural inheritance. It is but an inevitability, the grip of death, yet pieces like these ensure one will forever persist; even if it is through mere paper and colored earth. Humans…are so fascinating.”

You look up at the strange man, taking into consideration his words. “I…never really thought about it in that way. I suppose the tendency for humanity to preserve itself can be admirable, but I also can’t help but wonder when it stops being worth it to try. How many hours of labor and hardship did it take for one to even get the materials for this? Was the artist that was commissioned for this even compensated? Were they under duress? Countless resources, likely at others expense, just to spite the inevitable. At what point does it become insanity to continue?” To some extent, you wonder if the investment in such decadence could ever not be seen as tasteful. The man tilted his head in confusion, though his glasses made it difficult to tell. He later meets your gaze once more with a wide grin. “And yet it is here for you to ponder on. You still admire it, do you not?” You suppose he’s right about that…you suppose. “Mmh.”

“Alucard” What? Oh, of course, your name! “ W-here are my manners? It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Alucard!" You extended your arm for a handshake. Alucard raised an eyebrow, his expression hinting amusement at your sudden enthusiasm . Despite this, he gently took your hand in his. "The pleasure is all mine, dear" he murmurs, his voice smooth like velvet. As he released your hand, but not before a moment of arrest. The man was unnaturally cold. This made little sense considering he was wearing gloves. You stared down at them, noticing the odd symbols that traced along the smooth fabric.

"So, do you work here?” You ask nervously. “...My dear child, military compounds are not known for hosting tours” Alucard chuckles. You blushed as you kicked yourself for having asked such a stupid question. Unfortunately, it was not the last, but as the conversation between the two of you progressed, you found his biting sarcasm to be…entertaining? Clearly, the man was just as (if not more) entertained by you. From the sneaking glances at his spectacles, hints of amusement expressed itself through the veiled outlines of his eyes.

“Say, earlier when we were talking about that painting, you mentioned something about how humans are ‘fascinating’...” His strong jaw tilted to give you a cryptic expression. The corners of his eyes crinkled in delight as his cheshire smile welded together to tease a truth not yet privy to you. “Yes, and what of it?”

Swirling sunset eyes met with yours. Questions went unsaid and the impossibility of his eye’s inhuman color went unattended to by your psyche. Drawn to his preternatural beauty like a moth to a flame, your delicate digits found respite along the cool angles of Alucard's jaw; his long arms wrapped around your delicate waist in turn.

The satisfied gleam in his eyes turned a bright vermillion, though this did not register to you. After all, how could it when the point of his nose felt so good against the curve of your neck? How could anything matter when the light feather kisses along the new trail of bruises felt so right? You were floating on a fluffy cloud. You leaned in more to seek the comfort of his tongue's girth as he further suckled upon your skin. Pads of your breasts being kneaded was the button needed to release the breathy moan that escaped from your lips. You ached with need, he could smell it. A whine escaped from your lips as Alucard withdrew slightly, a wicked grin spread across his face as he assessed your feeble state. Your arm tickled at the way his gloved fingers danced along your skin. Your jaw felt good in between his fingers, you thought.

“My dear, you wished to know what I meant when I spoke of humanity…Do you still want to know?” It was unfair really. How could you possibly answer such a thing when he was toying with your body like this? When his large hands dared to roam under the fabric of your clothes and to your heat? When his tall nose tickled its way so sweetly along the surface of your cheek until his lips could reach the shell of your ear to continue whispering sweet temptations? Bent sinfully, the Vampire King sampled more of your flavor, though careful not to break any skin—Yet.

“Why do you reject it? Why deny yourself ? Sweet thing, allow me to show you the pleasures of surrender.” 'That... Maybe that wouldn't be so bad...', your mind drifts. The ghost of affirmation clung to your lips by a finger. That shouldn't be a problem, right?

“Is that a problem?” Your mind thought back to that woman..

Blood, as Alucard has learned over the centuries, tasted better when given freely. He just needed the word. He began to coo at you, sure that his prize was soon to be had. Your eyebrows knitted together and your hands reached to push at Alucard's broad shoulders. From your periphery, true would be found. His teeth…His eyes…You couldn't even recall when he'd taken off his glasses…

He's going to kill you, isn't he? Your first day on the job... Will be your last. Though the bulk of your freewill had mostly seeped out and left a vast space for persuasion, the 'bulk of' didn’t mean all. Blunt nails made harsh contact with soft skin. Streaks of scrapped flesh mirrored the streaks of salty water that cascaded down your cheeks. Quickly, reserved defiance turned into a desperate fight for life. Just as quickly, however, your body tired and could no longer accommodate your frantic attempts. Your mind followed suit when the previous bloody tears against pale flesh sealed; leaving no sign of damage behind. “H-help!” It seemed that no such thing would come. Worse than before, the echoes of your voice did nothing to salve the desperate disposition of your nerves. You were truly alone…Never had a smile looked so sickening.

You weren't going to win. Whoever this is, whatever this is, was going to kill you and there was nothing you could do about it.

"Please... Make it quick” Alucard, at your words, sniffed in disgust. His initial features of surprise quickly turned into an acrid distaste. Suddenly, the rotten blood of ghouls would be more preferable than the presence of a coward. Humans who were so willing to just forfeit their life...

"Disgusting," Alucard spits out, recoiling as if offered a meal of festered meat and a chalice of pus. Disdain etches itself onto his angular features, a look of utter contempt. His venomous glare pierced through you, freezing your very soul. Though “free”, you were not sure if you were better off in this situation or the former. Meek human eyes locked gazes with hot coals from the depths of hell.

“BACK AWAY FROM THE GIRL OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO SHOOT!"

The man in the familiar tactical gear,‘Birminghamman’, you vaguely recall, shouts as he points his firearm at the haunting figure. The presence of another human did not, unfortunately, improve your spirits. In fact, the presence of more bodies and more guns made the situation ironically more tense. Red eyes laid no heed to the crowd forming around the spectacle; it's attention only on you.

There was no other form of acknowledgement other than a mere scoff. The specter of a man swiveled on booted heels and was welcomed by the darker expanse of the hallway. Crimson lined shadows retreated, leaving nothing but dotted black plumes in its wake.

Birmingham was the last to lower his gun. "M-miss, are you alright?” You really weren't sure how to answer that question. Were you okay? “Listen, if you need to go to the infirmar—”, You recoiled at his reassuring gesture, only able to stare back owlishly.

You were told everything.

Guys im okayv

Physical Touch

3 times that Hiori Yo learned that your love language was physical touch

Tags: Soccer team manager gn!reader x Hiori Yo, fluff with a splash of angst, pre-blue lock, ~2.5k words

"Can I sit next to you, Hiyori-kun?" You ask, pointing to the bus seat next to him. He raised his head from his phone to look at the only other open seat being next to the teacher/coach. Given that you were probably exhausted after the game, he understood that you wouldn't want to be sitting next to them for the whole trip back to school.

"Go right ahead." He slightly shuffled closer to the window to make you some room.

"Thanks. Good game by the way. We're moving onto the preliminaries because of you." You set your duffle bag under the seats like his before sitting down.

"It's only because of the game plan you came up with, manager."

"You flatter me. I was only creating a strategy that would put you in the best position to score. It was your skill that allowed those to come to life."

"I'm hardly anything special on my own." Though the two of you didn't speak much outside of practice, Hiori had a lot of respect for you as the team's manager. The same goes for you always admiring his skill from the sidelines. But sitting next to him you remind yourself again that he was not the same person he was on the field.

"Is that why you love passing?"

"What?" You shrug.

It was practically your job to watch him. Everything from his one touch ball control to his eyes scanning everyone, he never had any wasted movements. You lost count of how many times his calm demeanor spread to his teammates that received his passes. Not only did he have natural talent, he had the mindset to improve. Staying late to review drills and arriving early to warm up before everyone else. You've always watched from the sidelines.

"I know coach made you our main forward and striker but quite frankly, I think midfielder is more suited for you. The ability to make decisions while assessing the entire field with the high tension- I mean those are useful to be a good forward and put people where needed for you to score but you know Hiori-kun you have a very interesting habit when scoring. Do you know what that is?"

He thinks about it for a second then shakes his head. You turn your body to face him. Pointing a single finger to his eyes. "After you take the shot, you look away from the goal. Almost like you don't care about the results."

You weren't wrong. Winning a point was normal for him. On the off chance that his shot was blocked, it just meant he would have to train harder to make sure it wouldn't happen again. A simple yet somewhat pessimistic view. It wasn't like he had an attachment to soccer.

"So I can expect you to put me as a midfielder next game?"

"It means that you are an absolute monster of a player and I love watching you."

"With your eyes you would be equally good out there." He brushed off the compliment.

You chuckle at his light joke. "No way, I'm more of a watcher than a player. I know I'm partially responsible for the training regime but I really have no idea how you keep up. You must be exhausted all the time."

"If you know then give me more of a break." He sarcastically said. It was just small conversation you guys were having that he was only playing along with the joke.

"Sure!"

"Eh? That easy?" His parents never let him take breaks unless it was for exam season or he was very sick.

He didn't move as you suddenly placed your hand on top of his head. Giving a small rub with a smile. How long had it been since he had been touched? In such a childish way too. The weight of your hand soothing the headache he formed from playing in the blazing sun all day. Your fingers, unknowingly, giving a small massage through his thin blue hair. It felt nice.

"Come on Hiori-kun I'm your soccer team manager, not a dictator. If you want a break you can just say so. Be a bit more selfish."

He almost wanted you to return your hand once you pulled back. His hand flattening his hair back down wasn't the same. "Is it really okay?"

You pull out your clipboard from your bag and shuffled a bit closer to him. Flipping it open you pulled up to next week's training schedule. Taking a pen from the top you wrote 'Hiori Yo on break to rest. Approved by l/n, y/n.'

"See? All done. Enjoy your break. Nice and slow." You tucked your clipboard back into your bag. Still you remained close that he hardly thought you minded that his thighs were touching yours.

"Thanks l/n. I'll... I think I will enjoy it well." He leaned back into the seat at the same time as you. A break. A time to relax. Without soccer. Sounded like a once in a lifetime opportunity for him. He closed his eyes, hearing you giggle as you patted him once more on his head.

-------------

"Hiori-kun! Hiori-kun! Come over here!" You called out from the bleachers. He cracked a smile at you all bundled up in your winter clothes. The sun had barely risen and a particular cold wind kept blowing ove you that it was pure torture to your sniffling nose.

Coming back from his mandatory break, Hiori thought that his body would have become stiff. Instead it was the opposite. He never felt lighter and full of energy. Not only that but with all the time to play hours of computer games, he mentally felt better. Atlas, the time to return eventually came and he had to join everyone else for training. With you leading the team as per usual.

"Yes l/n?"

"Can you give me your hands for a second?" Confused, he held out both of his hands. You took both of them into yours so that his were inside your sleeves. Creating some weird tunnel with both the jackets as you held his hands.

A show of bliss gracing your face. "So warm! As expected of my hardest player."

He realized that you didn't have gloves on despite the cold weather. Relying on his heat radiating off of him to keep warm. He, himself, only having taken them off because he was starting to sweat a lot. "Why aren't you wearing your gloves? Are you using me as a human heater?"

"I couldn't find them this morning and maybe?"

"You could have asked to borrow mine. I should have an extra pair in my bag. Let me grab them."

You pouted. "You can get them in a moment. Let me warm up a little. Please?"

You are so strange. Normally people would only hold hands with people they were close to. Instead you swung your arms like it was nothing.

A squeeze of your hands making him sigh. "Fine. Just for a bit."

"A bit is all I need. But um how was your break? Did you do anything fun? Hang out with your friends or anyone- anything?"

"Not really. Kind of wanted to spend the time alone anyways. Played a lot of video games though. Not that my parents were happy with me skipping practice."

"Oh yeah, coach had to tell me that I had to get permission from them first before I let players go. Your parents are very scary when it comes to your training." Of course Hiori knew his parents called the school. How could he not when they phoned outside his bedroom door the moment he told them?

"What did you tell them that let me stay on break?"

"That I couldn't take it back my word so late. It was rude. Plus a little sprinkle of sweet talking too. Saying stuff like your son is the best on the team, I need to improve the others so they don't hold him back. And oh Hiori-kun is so finely tuned that a small break isn't even going to affect him. It's because he has such wonderful parents watching over him. Things like that."

That would explain why they were so lax with him during the week. He just thought they were playing the image for his sake. Turns out it was your influence that allowed him to leave soccer for a short time. Some team manager you were for letting your best player go.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that for me."

"It was no trouble. For you, that was nothing."

"Are you like this with everyone?"

"Only with you." You feel his hands twitch in surprise. You tucked yourself further into your jacket's collar. "You're really really warm and nice. Only for you, Hiori-kun."

Releasing him, you put your hands back in your pockets. "I should let you get back to training before anyone thinks I'm playing favourites. You had a whole week of rest; get back out there solider!"

He finally noticed how close the two of you were. His toes touching yours. He awkwardly cleared his throat with a cough. A blush warming his rosy cheeks. Taking a step back he quickly caught that you were equally flustered over given how you kept glancing elsewhere but him. Your jacket collar hiding the bottom half of your face to not let him see you holding back your smile.

"One second." He went over to his bag, quickly returning with his extra pair of gloves. You had forgotten about that offer as you were very distracted. Still you took it.

Slipping them on you chuckled at how rough they were. They were nothing like your normal pair of fuzzy winter gloves. Still, you liked how the two of you were going to be matching. Not that you would say that outloud.

"Thank you Hiori-kun!"

"You're welcome. Next time remember to have your gloves or ask me. Don't just sit here in the cold. It's not healthy."

"Yes yes I'll bother you every time I'm freezing. I should take a break from all these morning practices. Watch from a distance. Somewhere where I'm not getting frostbite."

"Then I wouldn't get to use the excuse of having me as a human heater to stop training."

"I can still be cold inside." You mumble out after he started jogging back to the rest of the team. You look down at his gloves. It wasn't the same as Hiori himself. You'll just have to make do with this.

_____________

Your heart pounded against your chest. Hiori noticing your hands shaking as you took the paper from him. As much as he wanted to hold them to calm you down, his only thought was to tell you the truth first. "I'm resigning from the soccer team. Starting next week."

You bit down on the inside of your lip. Forcing yourself to take the resignation letter. "Can I... can I ask why?"

"I was accepted into a special soccer program. My parents think it'll be good to further my career. You know, focus myself on honing my skills. To join though I have to leave school to live in their dorms."

"Is that so? Wow. What- that sounds like a great opportunity. And you're already so good. It's going to be- I don't know how you can even get better." The letter crumpled from your fingers harshly holding them.

"L/n-"

"I accept your resignation letter. And I wish you the best. Try not to forget me when you become famous." You hoped he didn't notice that how fast you were blinking back your tears. Nor the wavering in your voice.

Unfortunately, Hiori did. As much as he wanted to use Blue Lock as an excuse to escape his parents for some time, he knew that it would seperate the two of you. Just as you were starting to get closer as well. He knew that you would support him that he had to take on the offer.

"Thank you." He bowed his head.

"Can I ask you something before you go though?"

"Of course." Your fingers lightly touched his chin to raise his head.

"You developed a new habit when you shoot at the goal. Do you know what is?"

Before it was that his eyes adverted the goal. He had close to zero memories of the ball going into the net. He remembered focusing on the flatten grass. That the other team showed signs of defeat before it even went in. How tired he was. But now he has new memories of shooting goals.

It was of you on the sidelines. The way your eyes would shine with pride of his work. Your screams cheering his point on regardless of the result. The thumbs up always directed for him with the widest grin spreading on your face. He couldn't care less about the point. Hiyori just liked watching you.

"I look at you after a shot." Your arms wrapped around him. Holding him as tightly as you could. Burying your face into his shoulder to hide the tears you could no longer hold back.

"Then- then when you're there- I won't be there to- to- for you to see! And- and you're going to overwork yourself! And you're going to lose your gloves and you won't have an extra pair because I took them and you're too nice that the other players might be mean and-and-"

He soothingly patted you on the back. Taking in the last few moment he could have with you in his arms. Despite him being the athlete, you had an insane hold on him. Gripping the back of his shirt to pull him closer. It made him feel protected. Cared for.

Blue lock couldn't offer him head rubs or pats on the head the same as you can. Holding his hands on the excuse of warming up was probably a joke to whatever monsters were in there. And a hug goodbye that told him he was loved was unquestionable. He didn't want to let you go.

"I'm not giving your gloves back." You muttered into his shoulder.

"That's okay."

"I want a hug when you get out." He pulled his head back causing you to do the same. His light blue eyes meeting your puffy eyes. One of his hands caressing your cheek to wipe the dried tears.

Gently, his other hand that somehow landed behind your neck pulled you forward. Letting his lips land on your forehead. Finally all the tension from your hug leaving your body. Letting the two of fully relax.

"I'll give you a lot more than a hug when I get back." You buried your face into his chest once more to hide your embarrassment very apparent on your face.

"I take it back you're a big meanie, Hiori-kun." You could feel his chest rumble with his laugh.

Though the time that you two had spent together was limited, you made each moment last. Holding one another in small ways to remind each that they were still there. Encouraging the other to continue on even without being physically in person.

untitled… just some scenarios tbh

gojo x reader

waking up in the morning

the sun beams through the white curtains, they blow forward as the wind passes through the open window satoru forgot to close. he twists n’ turns eventually getting tired of trying to fall back into sleep deciding to open. his sight falls on you— you’re not facing him, he traces a finger up your back wanting your skin to be the first thing he touches today. you move a little, your ticklish, it makes him smile. he sits up propping himself up on one elbow, leaning over to you— looking over your shoulder to see your face. you sleep so soundly, he almost feels bad about what he’s about to do. he kisses from your shoulder up to your cheek making you let out a soft groan— he never lets you sleep in. you move your hand up to his face trying to push it away. “stop— its a saturday” you say inbetween in a yawn, as you stretch out your arms.

“c’mon— we can go get breakfast?” he whines, you lay back on the pillow, the cover pulled up to your chin as you stare him down with an irritated look— but his smile never fades, you roll your eyes “fine! but only if i get to pick the place.”

“fine with me.”

you wrap the white towel around you, tucking it in at the top before walking over to the bathroom’s sink where satoru is, he glances over at you with a quick smile and then back to the mirror to finish brushing his teeth.

you look down to the corner of the counter seeing your toothbrush sitting face up with toothpaste already on it— you smile, turning the knob to the sink letting it run under water for a second before mimicking satoru’s actions.

you grab your jacket off the coat rack before putting it on, “oh! how about that place we saw down the street”

“the cafe?”

“yeah!”

“god no!”

“why? you’ve never even been there before!”

guilty silence overtakes the room, “no! you said we’d try that place together” you fake a sob. he walks out of the bedroom with the shades he was looking for in his hand. “sorry— i got hungry on the way home last night!”

satoru is behind you now waiting as you unlock and open the front door. you let out a sigh, “you suck.”

“what? im doing you a favor!” he shuts the door behind him, the rest of his speech is muffled.

taking a nap

it’s silent. the bedroom is dim, the only light is the one coming from the evening sky peeking through the window. satoru is finally asleep. it took him minutes that felt like hours, the two of you were supposed to be watching a movie— and you were, until you turned over into your usual position falling asleep. he didn’t notice until something funny came up on the screen making him laugh and it he looked over to see if you found it funny but instead finding you happily asleep.

his happy expression relaxes, slightly because of disappointment and slightly because it soothed him to watch you sleep.

then, was his first attempt, he closed his eyes trying to sleep—- but it didn’t work, so he decided to get a snack instead. strawberries, some were sweet some sour. satoru started to guess which flavor the strawberry would be before he put it in his mouth. most were sour.

he was pulled out of his head when he felt you turn, now your back was facing him. he put the container of strawberries on the nightstand scooting over closer to you, he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to his chest, holding you like he was a scared little boy with a teddy bear. when in reality he was just an insomniac who couldn’t sleep without his girlfriend.

it calmed him to feel your breathing, to know that you were alive and here with him. if it wasn’t for you he would’ve never closed his eyes that evening.

but if it also wasn’t for you he wouldn’t have woken up with a pillow thrown in his face. “did you eat my strawberries?”

please elaborate more on your grace chastity ocd hc :)

hi anon, thanks for the ask!

this will be a doozy. i know i said i wouldn't write an essay but apparently i lied. i will be talking about religion, ocd, death (murder), and sexual thoughts, so proceed with caution. while i can offer some personal insight, i am not an expert, just a psych student with too much time on her hands!

one thing that sticks out to me is the pattern of grace's behaviors and how they are rewarded. this is the main thesis of fencecollapsed's video about her, and i highly recommend checking them and that video out. grace follows her moral code, and ends up "saving the day".

we see this in abstinence camp, where she maintains her chastity throughout the video, and ends up being able to save pete&steph & camp because of it. her ritualistic behavior, ie. maintaining her chastity, is reinforced by doing good in her eyes. an example that comes to mind is grace and wearing a bathing suit at all times. if she wears the bathing suit, she will stay pure, and god won't punish her. she keeps engaging in that behavior because it works, it alleviates her anxiety, and it becomes an obsession.

in npmd, there is more of a focus on religious ocd. when grace is confronted by the cops because of what happened to max, she panics. she doesn't know whether she did what god told / wanted her to do. she has this moment of cognitive dissonance, where she realized she acted on an intrusive thought (killing max), but she believed she was doing a good thing (ridding the world of a sexual bully). so, she doubles down. she settles for killing max one more time in order to maintain her previous obsession - that max is better off dead because it will better the world, and save pete&steph in the process. once the deal with the lords in black has been made, she is fine doing one bad thing to do god's (her) original plan correctly. when we grace move onto the next victim, she is driven to murder, like a compulsion. her obsession of making the world pure was rewarded when she saved the world by killing max, so doing it again is the only way to feel at ease, as resisting compulsions can be difficult.

i have intrusive thoughts, and grace canonically gets them too. while intrusive thoughts aren't explicitly caused by ocd, it can be a component. grace repeatedly has unwanted sexual thoughts in npmd. max makes advances towards her, she hates it, but she can't get the sexual images and thoughts out of her head. she is disgusted with herself, not knowing why she thinks and feels that way. this ruminates into her killing max, because it's the only way she can "fix" her thoughts.

in conclusion, i believe grace chasity could have ocd. she shows ritualistic behaviors through always wearing bathing suits, has obsessions about purity and has various compulsive acts to get rid of that fact, and has sexual intrusive thoughts. all of these symptoms do somewhat point to ocd. this is just a headcanon, and i want to say that having these traits does not mean you have ocd. please contact a medical professional if something strongly resonates with you. for the national suicide and crisis hotline in the united states, call 988. take care of yourself <3

i'm going to cite sources now. can't take the researcher outta the girl. i recommend reading them for further insight!

grace chasity & the horrors of purity | a hatchetfield character study, fencecollapsed

what is obsessive compulsive disorder?, apa (american psychiatric association)

symptoms of ocd, mind

understanding religious ocd, rachel ehmke

moral scrupulosity, zachary appenzeller & patrick mcgrath

A. Thing. 🧍🏾

CW: Unhealthy relationship dynamics, implied drugging (a potion of some sorts), light mentions of death, Yan! reader x (character of your choice), l'm pretty sure I had someone in mind when I first wrote this, but it's been months and I have No Clue, lowkey disturbing. reader is manipulating mansplaining manwhoring this

Tell me if I miss anything :P

Heavy breathing.

The deafening sound of skin brushing against skin.

The shrill laughter coming from them made butterflies flare up in such a beautiful way in you.

"Haha! (redacted)!" They'd gleefully chuckle as you'd both roll around in the pillow fort you made together, tears forming in the corner of their eyes.

And you'd laugh right back, engulfing them in a loving hug they'd surely return.

They just loved you so, so much.

And you loved them too.

Enough to put them under a spell.

Enough to make sure all they thought about was you, you, you.

Because they loved you so much.

And you loved them too.

They'd cry and cry, but how could they be sad? When all they could feel was the tight pull on their heart when they saw you? When they heard your voice? When they tried to resist the spell you put them under?

Those were just tears of joy. What more could they be?

Their dead eyes meant nothing, so long as they gazed at you, and you alone.

They didn't mind when the people they were once close to vanished. One after the other

How could they?

They were too preoccupied with wedding plans to even think about their companions dropping like flies around them.

You'd speak, and they'd listen. Obey. Without question.

All because they loved you

And you loved them too.

Has anyone ever thought or read a story where a group of friends slowly start to break because friend B stole her friend A crush? And I know this is being used in many stories/fanfictions and it's clichè, and I get it. But what if we see in Friend B perspective and why, one would say for revenge and jealousy. But what if she stole friend A crush because she wants to experience what's it's like to be in a teen romance. Throughout her whole childhood, no one has ever liked her romantically except her 2 old friends, she was teased for looking older and experiencing teen hormones at a young age(ex. Pimples). As she grew, she crave to experience teen romance but she was told 'you just have to wait'. So she decided to take matters in her own hands, every time she tries to get close to one person they either have a partner or they have a crush on my friend and vice versa. So what she did next, was to follow their advice. She took her time waiting, spending her luxury time reading romance fanfiction, and enjoying her youth and yet the punctured whole that's been their ever since she was young was still their. When she entered senior high she was able to scope out new friends and was greeted every new student in every 1 month. So when going home with her new group of friends, friend A spilled how she has a crush on a guy Friend B was looking at. The automatic response of friend B was to stay away friend A crush and try not to be suspicious, but she was so tired reserving herself for someone else not to mention she didn't want to break her new found friendship with her friend group but doesn't she deserve to be happy for once? Doesn't she get to experience what it's like to be in a teen romance situation? But is it really worth it to just break your bond over some guy?.

@augusnippets day 28

Mind control/ body control/ betrayal

Royal setting, betrayal, enslavement

°

Whumpee had been working for an operation that was attempting to overthrow the kingdom's government. The coup was set to storm the castle in two weeks, just enough time to prepare.

However, Whumper, the king, had caught Whumpee snooping in the castle. He was brought back to the throne room for questioning.

He spilled quite easy, promised money and fame in exchange for a few dates and locations.

When the day of the coup came, Whumpee stood firmly in the throne room beside Whumper. He watched as his teammates filed in, their faces going from vengeful to confused as they saw Whumpee.

"Whumpee? What's going on?" One asked, looking concerned. "You're not...?"

Whumper cleared his throat, putting his hands on Whumpee's shoulders. "He has picked his side, and it is with loyalty. He is quite a clever boy, isn't he?" Whumper pushed Whumpee to the ground suddenly, stepping on his back. "He's just a backstabbing little puppy, isn't he?"

Whumpee looked up, confused. "Whumper, my king, why are you—" his mouth was covered by Whumper.

"Shhh. Just be quiet. I'll let your team take care of you."

i think i forget sometimes that not everyone tics. not everyone even knows what tics are or that you can’t always suppress/mask them.

i’ve been having a huge spike of them recently (probably due to graduation being around the corner) and i’m constantly making grunts and noises. they are annoying, they do hurt my throat, i do get stuck doing them until they ‘feel right’ and finally i’m set free of a loop.

but the child i’m babysitting and my brother asked why i keep making noises. i hadn’t realized i must’ve been making them. but i got flustered; how do i describe to these kids the concept of nearly not being able to control your own body sometimes? being stuck repeating the same tic until your brain thinks it’s okay to stop?

* i’d qualify for provisional tic disorder, but i’ve never been diagnosed bc it wasn’t ‘impeding my life.’ my pediatrician actually told us that if they get worse to tell her/get help on it. i was meant to get diagnosed for it bc it was bothering me but yk lol

Drowning yourself in alcohol is not the healthiest way to deal with shit, it does not solve one’s problem at all but rather serves as a distraction with a price.

As a man who had seen the world change and grow right in front of his eyes, he knew emotions were a fleeting aspect of life and took quite pride at the fact of how well he managed his emotions.

But he felt a small void in his heart as he read your text 'Will stay at HOL 2night'.

It was humorous really, how the both of you managed to go three thousand years back in time, lived under the same roof and somehow- just somehow, the brothers still occupy the most of your time.

That just shows your bond with the brothers, doesn't it? And that's nice, he tries to convince himself.

Well since you're not coming tonight, might as well hit a bar right?

And now he's down under six shots, unable to walk straight, and probably red (though he can't tell). He feels a bit guilty, for coming to alcohol as a solution. But not because it crosses his morals- hah, as if he has those- it's because you scold him like a child whenever he drinks too much.

but it's alright, he'd take your scoldings as long as you're looking at him. How cute you look with that sternness in your eyes. He walked out of the bar, unsure why, but he did.

hm?

that's you.

cue a frown.

with satan.

"Hey MC!"

He exclaimed to his full ability while ignoring the demon you held hands with. It's fine he's not jealous.

Solomon isn't a jealous man.

~

lowkey..just lowkey.. thinkin about waking up one day and seeing dragon! bakugou in your house…accompanied by a giant hole in your wall.

you’re so confused you can barely process it. there’s a handsome man passed out on your floor and from what you can see (which is basically everything since his shirt is torn to shreds) he looks injured. you also live on the third floor so you have no idea how he landed here, but you think the huge sprawled out wings on his back, his tail and those huge reddish horns that scream “ i’m a mythical being !!” might be the reason.

but there is one thing you’re able to think about and that’s how much money will it cost to fix your damn wall??

you call off work. you call it a family emergency because you don’t think “a shirtless man i think might be a demon just blasted through my wall and he looks injured” is gonna fly over well with your boss.

he seems to be able to heal himself because his wounds look better than when you first laid eyes on him and you can see that his skin looks like it’s restitching itself almost, you decide to help him out a bit and at least dress his wounds up the best you can with the little you know about doctor..stuff.

when he comes to though, he acts like you’re the one who knocked him out. he’s snarling and scowling at you, sharp teeth on display while he growls at you from the comfort of your fucking couch. he spits out all types of curses at you, you’re shocked because they come out so naturally. you’d honestly expected him to speak like some type of caveman and for a second you think this is just a very rude man in very convincing cosplay.

he keeps insulting you and he’s a little too good at it, so much so that it actually hurts your feelings a little. he keeps yapping about how if you didn’t let him out this instant he’ll have you grilled and barbecued or how he’d make quick work of you and have you sold to some merchants for a good amount of gold, since you “look like you’re not worth that much.” you’re a little pissed now. you scowl at him and you feel silly for calling off work and not pushing this huge asshole out of your flat and leaving whatever knocked him out to deal with him.

“you’re the one who blasted a hole in my wall, you jerk ! i say i’m the one who should have you sold if you can’t reimburse me for this, asshole ! and if you wanna walk out without a shirt on and get arrested like a creep, the door’s right there.” you don’t care to see him, because you would’ve seen how his eyes widened to the size of saucers at your retorts. you’ve never been more irritated in your entire life when you stalk to your room to get some much needed rest and to fight off the headache you can already feel slamming against your skull. “even demon men are insufferable.” you mutter bitterly before slamming the door.

you somehow managed to fall back asleep because when you open your eyes again it’s about 10 am. you’re frantic for a moment because you think this was somehow just a very vivid dream and you’re so late for work now. you slam your door open wide eyed and your wall is intact.

shit, your boss was gonna let you have it—

you catch something from the corner of your eye. the insufferable demon man is staring..glaring(?) at you but it’s not as intense as earlier,though. and he’s very much still seated on your couch.

“m-my wall..” you trail off. he clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes at you “i fixed it” he gruffs out.

you like how his voice sounds when he isn’t screaming and threatening you, you immediately scold yourself for thinking like that. he stares and keeps staring at you and you can’t decipher what he’s thinking

“oh..” you gasp “thank you.” he clicks his tongue again and looks away from you. just as much of an ass, but you guessed he felt a little bad about your wall, enough to fix it..somehow. you won’t ask for details.

you can’t will yourself to move past your doorframe so you decide to lean on it a little bit, rubbing your fuzzy socked foot against your calf, you catch him staring at the sudden movement before he looks back up at you. “so are you…a demon or something?” he scoffs for what feels like the umpteenth time today “don’t insult me, human.” he snarls then his face relaxes just slightly “m’ a dragon.” he grumbles.

“oh, wow” the little amount of fantasy manga you’ve read could never have prepared you for this.

you thank him for fixing your wall and he glares at you like he’s mad about it. but then he says he owes it to you for healing him. pointing towards his bandage covered chest. you feel your cheeks burn a little and you’re waving him off, telling him it’s no big deal and somehow his brows furrow even harder. “..so ? what do you want from me?” he growls when you tilt your head at him in confusion “don’t play dumb with me, filthy human ! what do you want in exchange for saving me ?”

“ohh…” you moan. then you shrug “i mean, you already fixed my wall, so i don’t really need anything from you, unless you can make my boss give me a promotion.” you giggle at your own joke and you wave him off again when he looks at you questioningly “nevermind.” you giggle.

he ignores you “you don’t want anything..nothing ?” he speaks apprehensively like he expects you to trick him, you shake your head. he looks bothered by it. he lowers his head and his eyebrows furrow in frustration then he growls.

you think maybe, maybe, he’s the type to feel bad whenever they feel like they can’t repay some type of service. you hadn’t noticed he was apparently on death’s door when you bandaged him up before and it makes you sweat drop a little bit, you try your best to shake it off. he stands up to leave, but he glances at you and suddenly his feet have stopped moving like he’s stuck there and he stares. he doesn’t even look mad like you’ve gotten used to him being for the short amount of time you’ve known him, he just looks confused. he stares at you and you stare at him and for a reason that you cannot understand you don’t want him to leave.

“ um !” you shrink into yourself, embarrassed from his gaze and the fact you were suddenly so loud. “well..you can’t exactly go out like this, it’ll be bad for you i think..it might attract attention to see a wounded shirtless guy walking around, people might take you for..i dunno—” you stumble “a crazy, dangerous person ! yeah, and if that happens they might take you away..so..that’d be bad for you, right ?” you hope he doesn’t realize how much you’re bullshitting around for an excuse but he almost seems to humor you when he crosses his arms across his toned chest.

“what do you suggest i do then, human ?” he growls lowly. he stalks towards you slowly, never breaking eye contact. you will yourself to stay with your feet planted firmly to the ground and head held up somewhat high as you stare up at him, damn he’s tall.

“ you stay here until you’re fully healed, if you wanna make it up to me. it would honestly save me so much trouble” it’s the truth. you can’t help but feel bad when the thought of him getting captured or experimented on crosses your mind, even if he is an asshole, but you don’t say that. you hold out your hand for him to shake “deal ?”

he squints at you and stares and you stare back. usually he would’ve stayed true to his threat and burned you alive by now, the trivial lives of humans are none of his concern. and yet for some reason he himself doesn’t know the answer to he stayed, even fixed up your damn wall you were whining about and even considered apologizing to you..which he absolutely never does !

there’s something different about you and he wants to find out what that something is. so, not so begrudgingly he slowly grasps your hand and squeezes lightly. he ignores the tiny voice in his head that tells him how soft and perfect your hand feels in his.

“deal.”

" what the hell are you doing ?"

you look away from your screen to stare at your boyfriend from beneath the mountain of pillows you’re laying under. there are snacks ranging from sweet to salty strewn all around your bed and a spot right next to you saved specifically for him.

you raise a brow " i’m watching my show." you state. katsuki’s eye twitches. he stalks towards you slowly, menacingly, like he’s waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce at you. you shove your chin and nose underneath your blankets.

"you’re watching our show. " he corrects, squinting at you "you’re watching. our show." he reiterates.

"katsu-"

" our show. an’ yer fuckin’ watching it without me." he glares daggers into your fucking soul and with the rage of a thousand suns as he spits the words out like they had somehow caused him harm.

"you said i could start without you last time !" you defend weakly. he rolls his eyes as he stomps over to you and climbs into your bed "yeah, last time, but this ain’t last fuckin’ time, dumbass." he growls. you whine when he lifts up your blankets and the cold air nips at you. "oh shut up, big baby, weren’t whinin’ when ya decided ta watch the one show you know we watch together." his words are mean but he scoots impossibly closer to you

you scoot over to make some extra space for him so he can lay down comfortably before squeezing yourself right next to him again. “you’re the one who said, and i quote ‘ i could give less of a shit about this stupid show, just don’t have anything better to do” he scrunches his nose at your crude impression of him. “ i don’t fuckin’ sound like that.”

“it’s what you sound like to me.” you retort.

he growls, nipping at your ear which causes you to let out a giggle mixed with a little squeal “needa get yer fuckin’ ears checked then.”

“i just started anyway. i can just rewind it” you lean forward to place your mouse back to the beginning and plop back on your pillow with a groan. katsuki snorts. “ i was gonna wait for you, but you were taking too long” you mumble out already invested in the images on screen.

katsuki knocks his forehead against the side of your head softly then also turns his attention to the screen. “ it’s shitty hair’s fault” he gruffs out “fucker kept on yappin’ about whatever the fuck, couldn’t leave.”

you fake gasp in shock. pretending to be hurt you place a hand on your chest and look at him wide eyed. he raises a brow “wow. i can’t believe you like kirishima more than me.” you turn your nose up at him and hold back a laugh when you see his expression morph from confused to straight up insulted.

“where the fuck d’you get that from?!” you can’t keep up the façade when you see his face and burst out laughing, his facial expressions are seriously something else. he relaxes slightly but he still doesn’t look amused. “i’m just joking. i know you just wanted to be nice” you reassure, his face relaxes and his shoulders sag as he releases a frustrated sigh. “you know, since he’s your friend.”

he cracks his head to look at you, wide eyed and brows furrowed he shoves his head against yours so hard he basically headbutts you. you let out a little yelp and laugh “don’t even start with that ! fucker ain’t my friend." he spits the word friend like it tastes gross in his mouth, it makes you laugh even harder. “right~” you sing.

you think things have calmed down after a little bit, your both watching your show, then katsuki suddenly knocks his forehead against your head again.

“hey.” he mumbles. you blink up at him waiting for him to finish. he chews at his lip and looks towards the screen then looks back at you, cheeks turning pink.

"ya know i don’t…like him more than you, right..?"

you tilt your head "who ?" you ask. he grunts like speaking is physically challenging, his face turning redder by the second “shitty hair. don’t like ‘im more than you." his eyes dart away then focus back on yours " don’t like anyone more than you."

you feel your cheeks flush and you suddenly feel extremely warm and giddy. you giggle and his cheeks darken in color "where's this coming from?" you chortled. he scoffs at you and pokes you in the stomach, turning back to the look at the screen to avoid your mushy warm loving gaze. "fuckin'—nowhere ! m'not allowed to…fuckin—!" he fumbles around for what to say. you decide to spare him and place your hands on his scorching cheeks, he struggles a little bit (barely) but let's you turn his head towards you, he pouts at you, trying his best to look intimidating but he just looks like a angry little kicked puppy.

"m'just teasing you , suki" you're rubbing his cheek with your thumb and his eyebrows stay furrowed despite him leaning into your touch "i know you don't like him more than me, if you did, i don't think you'd be here" he rolls his eyes and bites at the palm of your hand. you chuckle "i don't like anyone more than you, either" you're sure there are hearts in your eyes as you speak, you hope he can see them.

" 'f course you don’t." he mumbles out the words into your palms fast without missing a beat, it tickles. he smirks into your hand when he sees you roll your eyes at him, he truly is a little shit.

"don't like nobody more than you." he proclaims quietly, closing his eyes, his long lashes brushing against his cheeks.

"yeah" you purr, the hearts in your eyes spread all around your body to the tips of your fingers and toes, it makes you warm and soft, and so fond of him. you don't like anybody more than katsuki, you can't. not when he opens his eyes and gazes at you with burning cheeks but hearts in his eyes and you hope the ones in yours spread all around his body too, because his have started to intermingle with yours, coursing through your veins.

"yeah." you sigh, " yeah me neither."

you can't like anyone more than you do katsuki as you watch your show together.

@slashersl0t i wrote this thanks to you twin <3 !

how about them fighting about a girl which jk unintentionally checked out?

You sulk with your arms crossed and lips in a pout while lying on your bed and staring at the ceiling, refusing to glance at Jungkook who stands by your side with an arched brow. It's silent in your dorm until he breaks it. "You're upset."

Without bothering to give him a response, you only cock a brow and hum.

"First step to solving a problem is to admit–"

"I don't have a problem, Jungkook," you immediately pick up a snarky tone, "thanks for taking the time to notice my mood though. I guess there aren't any other girls to notice when I'm the only one here."

His face twists in confusion as he stupidly blurts, "What?" At your scoff, he gently settles on the mattress to sit next to you as if trying not to scare away a stray cat. You're more of a wild tiger in this situation however; your anger always manages to intimidate him, and he has to approach you cautiously. "What other girls?" He keeps his voice soft to avoid an argument—it doesn't help.

"You tell me," you glare at him, "or did you not catch her name? The girl you seemed to fancy at the café? Don't mind me, you can go back and speak with her all you want."

A heavy sigh leaves his mouth as he closes his eyes for a moment. "I was looking at her tattoos–"

"Why don't you go ahead and ask about their meanings? I'd hate to keep you waiting."

His gaze turns cold at your constant interruption, eyes becoming hooded and the corners of his mouth lowering to a frown. "Are you going to let me talk or do you want to keep arguing with yourself?"

You click your tongue and return to your staring contest with the ceiling. The atmosphere is tense for no good reason, and it has him inhaling a deep breath as to not anger you any further by growing angry himself. It doesn't help.

"A tattoo on her arm caught my eye, and I understand why you would misinterpret that as–"

"Misinterpret? I'm encouraging you to ask her–"

"Zip– those fucking lips," he asserts calmly. "I'm talking. Quit being a brat." You sink into the sheets with a scowl. One of your pet peeves is being treated like a child in the literal sense, but you don't have the heart to bite back. "I liked a tattoo, and I took a look for one second. It doesn't mean I'm interested in her, or anyone besides you. You understand that, don't you?" You narrow your eyes with determination; determined to not be treated like a child with these condescending, rhetorical questions.

"Tell me you understand."

The corner of your mouth tugs up to a smirk as you remark, "Oh, I understand, but what I don't understand is why you didn't just ask her to get matching tattoos with you."

He rolls his lips inwards and puts a hand over his face as he exasperates, "Where did that even come from?" A groan later, he stands up and says, "That was a serious question. Would you please enlighten me on where that idea might root from to plague your mind? Hm, baby?"

You can sense he's going to say more, so you keep your mouth shut.

"Do tell me where you're getting all this bullshit from to spew it at me, I'm fucking begging you!" He raises his hands and flings them in emphasis, making you slowly sit up uncomfortably.

"I was just–"

"Where did it come from, that's what I want to know," he places his hands on the bed to lean into you, voice still rough and demanding with its volume, "tell me, come on, since you're such a fucking know-it-all."

Jungkook's ability to dominate an argument makes an appearance again, and you shift in your seat as you murmur, "Nowhere–"

"No no, you must have a reason for saying something so outrageous if it's been stuck on your mind," he presses incredulously.

"I was just mad!"

Jungkook hates arguing with you, he really does, but this approach has proven to be more effective with you countless times and playing nice is no longer on his mind when he's leveling with you. If being mean will make you drop this act, then he'll go to the extent of making you cry.

"Oh really?" he scoffs with a crazed grin. "I'm mad too, but you don't hear me talking about matching tattoos or some other dumb shit. You want to know what I think?" You don't move an inch out of hesitance and from feeling exposed by his close proximity, his wild eyes staring deeply into you. "I think you were being stupid," he whispers. "What do you think?"

You have to take a moment to wonder if he's being rhetorical or actually expecting a response, and when he waits patiently, you agree in a mumble, "I was being stupid."

"We're on the same page, good..." he's speaking quietly now, like he's going back to the nice guy from before, except there's no room for you to argue at this point. "What do we say when we realize we said something stupid to hurt someone?"

"I wasn't trying to hurt–"

"What do we say?" he lowers his head to look up at you, emphasizing each word menacingly.

"I'm sorry."

He cracks a tiny smile and palms your cheek, gaze turning soft with affection. "Good girl. I forgive you. See what happens when we talk things out? Think about that the next time you get stupid ideas." He pecks your lips before getting on the bed and lying down on his side to face you. A weight lifts off your shoulders as well as a burden from your heart when he pats the spot before him, beckoning you to be his little spoon. It's with a smile that you allow him to hug you tightly.

Got a ques! What if yn is insecure of her body? How would jk react?

I have feeling, he would become too adorable

oh my god i love this ask 😫😫

Jungkook hides his emotions a lot, but anyone can read his happiness when you're trying to lift weights with him at the gym. He can't stop chuckling at your struggle, especially when you look so frustrated in that cute way of yours. This can be considered one of his favorite dates with you, though he can say that about each one.

It just excited him so much when you offered to work out with him after he mentioned going to a beach house for the summer, and he didn't care to think about why you wanted to exercise with him all of a sudden because, well, he's currently living the dream. He tries to suppress his feelings of joy but he can't stop himself.

When you start groaning at the ache in your biceps, he chimes in giddily, "Baby, you're only lifting one kilo. Don't give up, you can do it."

"It hurts," you whine and drop your arms. You longingly look at him with envy. He's wearing a tank top and leaning his shoulder against a machine with his arms crossed. He looks so good and built, and it makes you uncomfortable in your own skin. You can't wear a swimsuit in front of him even if he's seen you naked before; you don't feel confident and instead incredibly insecure.

Which is why you continue your reps and feel sore for the rest of the day. You need to tone your muscles and shape yourself—and let's not forget the waterproof makeup. You want him to be attracted to you just as you are to him, but he doesn't need to know the intention behind this exhausting activity. Baggy clothes won't save you at the beach after all.

—

Jungkook is comfortable with you, and you usually are with him as well. But lately you've been too shy, not allowing him to hold your stomach whenever he stays over at your dorm and cuddles you to sleep or changing your clothes when he's looking. You just don't want him to see, feel and touch your flaws.

The flaws that scratch at your eyes in the reflection, standing before the mirror in your underwear as you suck in your tummy. The sight makes you want to cry, and you cross out the idea of buying a bikini although Jungkook keeps hinting at it. You have to spare him of that sight, otherwise he'll stop loving you. God, you wish you had the courage to crush his hopes by telling him you didn't want to go to the beach.

But you want to have fun with him.

Jungkook casually barges into the bathroom, making you gasp and immediately cover your stomach and bend to hide any noticeable flaw. What if he sees that you don't have a flat stomach or completely smooth skin without stretch marks and cellulite? You don't even want to think about it, so you immediately yell, "Get out!"

"Woah, I'm just gonna shave–"

"Would you please just leave?! I need to shower!"

Confusion washes over him at your outburst. It's unlike you and definitely uncalled for, but he does as you ask and shuts the door with a mumble of okay. He doesn't understand why you're so freaked out about being seen naked by him, so much so that you actually yelled at him—a rarity. You don't get mad at him often, but he's catching onto something.

You didn't cover your underwear or bra, and that gives him an idea of why you reacted so violently. He just doesn't understand why you're being insecure with him.

—

He tried to bring up the incident a few times, trying to get you to talk to him about it, but you only blush and apologize instead of actually answering the question at hand: did he give you a reason not to be open with him anymore?

Is it because he joked about your strength at the gym? But you're not that sensitive. Maybe he crossed unspoken boundaries when he didn't knock before entering? But he's used the bathroom while you were showering before. He's been rattling his brain just thinking about why you've been so closed off these past few days, but he can't put his finger on anything and it hurts him to not know. Instead of talking about it though, he's just going to go with the flow since you're still a sucker for his kisses. That should mean something.

He has hope today since you're shopping for swimsuits with him, and he can tease you about the incident by saying, "you can try on swimsuits for me but I can't see you in a bra?" Maybe then you'll tell him what that was about.

He's treading lightly here because despite being a hostile person, he cares for you and he doesn't want to force you to voice your problems. At least he's learned to be a better person throughout his time with you, though he'd prefer you speeding things up by spitting it out already. He is impatient.

You roam the thrift store without giving a second glance to any of the bikinis while looking for the most modest one piece. Jungkook lingers behind you, his focal point being the opposite of yours.

You pick up a plain black swimsuit by the hanger and hold it up to imagine it on yourself. Jungkook loves black, and it does look cover up flaws pretty well. You hang it on your forearm and continue your hunt.

"Damn," Jungkook whistles before presenting you a red strapless bikini with a bite of his lip. Your eyes widen and a protest bubbles up in your throat until he shuts you down by placing it by the onepiece you picked. "I gotta see that on you."

You murmur incoherently under your breath but decide it wouldn't hurt to see it on yourself anyway. He doesn't have to see it if you just tell him you don't like it.

After gathering a few other pieces, two of them being bikinis of your boyfriend's choice, you reluctantly walk to the changing room. Jungkook stands behind the door as he waits, being the self-proclaimed critic he is.

You start off with the first swimsuit that caught your eye, and you observe your reflection without any confidence until Jungkook knocks on the door. "You done?"

"Um..."

"Let me see."

You quietly groan before opening the door. His eyes instantly shoot to your body with your arms awkwardly crossed as he drinks in the sight. "You look so fucking hot, holy shit," he comments shamelessly.

It gives you a confidence boost although you're hesitant to take the compliment. Your lips tug up to a tiny smile as you say, "Really?"

"Turn around, do a little twirl for me," he ignores your question as he spins his finger to his words.

You hum awkwardly before doing as he asked, earning a wolf whistle from him before he reaches out an arm to tap your ass, making you yelp. "You've been hiding this sight from me for too long. Try on that red bikini now. Oh, and I rate it 11 out of 10."

You giggle while changing as he pleads to enter the room with you, denying him of the bliss he so desires. The smiles vanish the moment you see yourself in the two piece. It's a pretty design for sure, but it's anything but pretty on you in your eyes. You can feel the waterworks slowly gearing up just as he knocks again.

"Let me see," he groans, "open the door, woman."

You shake your head to yourself, already having planned to say this before even trying it on, "No, I hate it. I'm gonna take it off."

"No, no, please," he begs, and it would make you laugh if you didn't feel so ugly right now. "Come on, one peek–" he cuts himself off when he hears a single quiet dry sob. You put a hand over your mouth as he furrows his brows. "Open the door," he demands.

"I hate it," you whimper pathetically, tears collecting at your lashline, "it's so ugly."

"It's okay baby," he sweetly coos at you, "we won't buy it then. Just let me in."

You unlock the door as the tears start streaming down your face. You're so nervous to let him see you like this, but you need the comfort of his gentle touch. He gets more nervous than you when you cry, but he knows for a fact that hugs and a soft tone of voice helps you the most.

But upon seeing the source of your weeping, his lips part and his eyes widen. "What the hell are you crying about?" he asks in astonishment. You don't even cover yourself when he stares at your body with so much greediness. You feel exposed, but your tears serve as a distraction.

He locks the door behind him and holds your waist. His eyes finally trail to yours as he quietly points out, "You've been acting different this past week. What's wrong, love?"

"I-I feel so ugly," you hiccup and snivel, "I hate everything about myself and you're too perfect, it-it makes me feel undeserving of you."

He palms your cheeks to keep your gaze locked on him, looking so incredulous. "No fucking way," he blurts, "I love everything about you. I know that sounds super cheesy," his cheeks flush in embarrassment, "but I mean it. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, you know? You're gorgeous, smart, funny, cute and sweet; you're the only woman I've ever loved."

You whimper at his heartwarming words of reassurance and snuggle into his neck, sniffling and silencing your cries.

"What do you hate about yourself?"

"My stomach, face, everything..."

He pulls you away to crouch down and level with your lower belly before pecking it with featherlight kisses. It tickles you, and you laugh while he holds you still by gripping your hips. He finishes off the gesture with a lick up to your ribs, making you shutter, before standing up. "It's perfect, soft and very kissable. 100 out of 10," he jokes, cracking a laugh out of you.

He switches to your face as he kisses every spot, from your forehead to your cheeks and nose, down to your lips. He spends more time on your lips, kissing you as he runs his hands down your back. You clasp your hands at his nape, all thoughts negative or positive diminishing at his very touch. He pulls away with a final peck.

"I could look at your face all day, even when you're crying about it. Such a stupid girl," he flicks your forehead. You whine and rub the spot before he kisses it better. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," you chuckle breathlessly, "better than."

"Good, 'cause I've been wanting to say it this whole time: you have to buy this fucking bikini. Christ, you look way too sexy," he lightly pushes you to run his eyes up and down again.

"Tell me if this is bad timing, but can we just..." he holds your hand to palm himself through his jeans, notifying you of his hard-on. "You've been depriving me of it," he points with raised brows.

Your eyes widen, "H-here? Are you sure?–"

He pushes you flat against the mirror and starts undoing the buckle of his belt. "Certain."

I was thinking how would a day in the Family of the Jeons looking like? Could you make a drabble of it? Of course only if you want to :)

OOOOO OK OK OK I LOVE THAT

Jungkook hasn't cracked a single smile throughout the whole day. You tried comforting him before his ride back home for the majority of the spring break, but nothing can save his depression from being around his mother. There isn't one good memory that involves her presence in his life.

He was willing to stay in his dorm throughout the whole three weeks of vacation, but tough luck, there was a cockroach infestation a day prior to his holiday. Only his dorm. Fate has different plans for him, and he's not religious or anything, but Satan might just be lurking around him.

Your house isn't available because of your strict mother, his friends are leaving town and staying with Taehyung is arguably worse than temporarily living with his mother. At least he doesn't have to share a room with her.

The scowl on his face only deepens when he comes face to face with his first home. It's like ripping off a bandaid when he opens the door, unlocked as usual, before entering.

The living room greets him with crickets. Utter silence and empty with no one around. The walls are chipped, the couch is washed out and the hardwood flooring has scratches on them. He enters and makes the effort to not make a sound as to not summon his mother, but like clockwork, the moment he steps foot inside, she appears from the kitchen.

"Jungkook!" she gushes and tackles him into a bone crushing hug. Her eye makeup is smudged and her outfit is merely a black nightgown.

He knows her excitement will wear off soon enough; they're bound to argue in a matter of minutes about his "disrespectful behavior." She's unpredictable in that regard, but it's clear that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

He groans and yanks her arms away. His greeting is merely a question, "Is anyone else here?" He knows his mother like the back of his hand: incapable of being alone and constantly searching for her next soulmate. The only serious relationship he's had was with his father, who is basically missing.

"Only my boyfriend and his daughter." She leaves room for him to take off his shoes and throw his bag full of necessities on the floor. "She's really pretty by the way," she whispers.

"Not interested."

"Oh come on, you haven't even met her–"

"Babe?" A stranger with a gruff voice steps out of the master bedroom while fixing his bed hair. It's 2 PM and he looks like he just woke up.

"Good morning sweetie," his mother brightly grins at the man before introducing her son. "This is Jungkook, my boy I was telling you about. Kook, this is Jinyoung." She leans into him threateningly, "Be nice."

"How fucking old is he?" he whispers back, perplexed.

"Thirty-seven."

"Are you serious?" he groans and stands straight before picking up his bag. "Good luck," he plainly greets the man before walking off to his bedroom.

Upon opening the door, a young girl sitting on his bed with music blasting from her earphones enters his sight. She squeals when she looks up to see the intruder and yanks the buds out in panic.

"What the fuck? Mom!" he whirls around to find her in the kitchen again. "Why is there someone in my room?"

She doesn't look up from the stove where she's practically burning scrambled eggs and her calm tone contrasts his angry one. "That's Yeri, the girl I was telling you ab–"

"I don't give a fuck, why is she in my room?!" The chaos is already making his head hurt.

"She's been staying there for a while now."

Jungkook slaps a hand on his forehead and inhales until his lungs hurt. He stomps back to his room with a death glare. The girl hasn't moved an inch out of surprise and the music continues to come out of the earphones. "Get out. You're taking the couch."

"A-Are you Jungk–"

"Out."

She shoots out of the bed and scurries to the living room with a fearful expression. He sighs and kicks a stray bra lying on the floor out of his way before dropping his bag with a thud.

This sucks. He considers running off to Taehyung in a moment of desperation, but he hasn't reached the level to go through with it yet.

He starts unpacking and ignores his mother's announcement of breakfast. He collapses on his bed with a grunt and massages his temples, but even one second of peace is not an option in this household when his mother barges in to repeat her announcement.

"I'm not hungry," he spits.

"At least sit with me. I've missed you so much–"

"I'm tired."

"Stop being a brat and come."

She leaves no room for argument when she slams the door shut. "You're so annoying!" he shouts past the thin walls before smacking his head at how childish he sounds. Is this Hell?

He shoots you a quick message before trudging to the dining room.

♡ the love of my life ♡: kill me

He slumps down on the only idle chair next to Yeri and leans back without even glancing at the dish. He lost his appetite the second he came here.

No one's touched their food yet, presumably from waiting on Jungkook, and just as Jinyoung picks up the utensils, his daughter nervously chimes in, "Let's say grace!"

The couple is surprised by her words. "You're the one who always whines about it," her father states quizzically.

His mother scoffs playfully. "She wants to hold Jungkook's hand, sweetie," she nudges her boyfriend with her elbow.

Yeri blushes and looks down at her lap as Jungkook mutters exasperatedly, "Jesus fucking Christ..."

He crosses his arms when she meekly holds out a hand to him and her father, and his mother frowns upon the action.

"Jungkook," she drawls.

"I'm not fucking Christian!"

"Just hold her hand!"

"I don't want to!"

"When a girl is interested in you, you're expected to respond accordingly."

The other family in the table stare at them in bewilderment, thrown off by their bickering.

"Yeah, I'm responding with rejection."

"Get over this I-hate-girls phase already, you're twenty years old!"

"I have a girlfriend!"

"Oh please," she dismisses him with a flick of her wrist, "I'd love to meet her in your dreams."

"She's real," he growls with a snarl, "and she's certainly not a kid." He gives Yeri a pointed look.

"I'm seventeen!" Her father clears his throat uncomfortably.

A notification from his phone disrupts the conversation, and he checks it to escape this mentally draining interaction.

You: oh baby what's wrong:((

♡ the love of my life ♡: mom is breathing

"Who is it?"

He scoffs at his mother without looking up from the screen, "My girlfriend."

Yeri whines with a pout as his mother jumps from her seat to take a peek.

"What the hell are–"

She smacks the back of his head after reading his last text in a millisecond. "Mom is breathing? You brat! Who is this girl? Show me a picture," she gushes excitedly, completely forgetting her earlier attempt at matchmaking.

"None of your damn business," he hisses before he gets another notification. Him and his mother immediately look down at his phone.

You: i'm trying to make the best of staying with my mom >_< you should try as well!

♡ the love of my life ♡: with this woman?|

She coos as she snatches the phone out of his hand. "Hey!"

"She sounds so nice! Take her advice, you imbecile–"

"I'd rather die," he deadpans as he tries not to hurt her while reaching for his phone.

"Listen to me," she uses her authorative tone that has Jungkook pulling back with a frown. Old habits die hard, such as rebelling against his mother before she becomes genuinely intimidating. "You're stuck with me for a month. Don't make me turn this house into a living hell."

He resists the urge to say it already is.

————

Smoke swirls in the open air from the lit joint that hangs off Jungkook's lips. Finally, some peace and quiet in the balcony. He came prepared with a stash of cannabis for when things get too overwhelming in the house, and it's only the first day.

The sky is bland with no stars or clouds, a boring view of midnight black from the balcony where he leans against the railing. He enjoys watching the busy street instead, and he feels less shitty about his current living situation.

And yet his newfound happy daze fades too soon when the joint is snatched from his fingers. "Give it ba-" he pauses when he sees his mother taking a puff from his stick. He looks away lazily.

"Don't worry," she blows out the smoke, "I'm not here to scold you for smoking weed."

"I don't care."

"You're old enough anyway." She follows his line of sight and takes another drag. It's quiet for a minute until she asks, "You met her in college?"

"Yep."

"Truth be told, I can't imagine you asking out a girl when you're so spiteful. How did it happen?"

He can't believe he's having this conversation, or why he's responding without being so snarky. He chuckles instead. "I didn't really ask her out. She made a deal with me where she does my homework and I pretend to like her back or whatever."

She laughs quietly. "You used her feelings for you to your advantage? You take after your mother," she jokes.

"She offered," he shrugs with a smile, " and I was struggling with my courses. I chose law as my major when I was mad at you so I could sue you or something, but it's so fucking boring."

"Oh, how much you love your mother," she huffs with a giggle. "I deserved that. Being a single mother didn't exactly work out for me."

"You were no mother," he scoffs, "all you did was ignore me or insult me when you weren't introducing me to my next step-dad. Did you know that this is my first relationship?" he glances at her with a bitter lopsided grin. She turns to look back at him and passes the joint. He inhales the filter before continuing with a mouthful of smoke, "I didn't want to date anyone because I didn't want to turn out like you. I didn't want to have relationships that only last a week before moving onto another one. I can be alone."

"Let me guess, you didn't believe in love either," she mocks in a silly deep voice.

"Fuck off."

She sighs as a peaceful silence settles over them aside from the running engines. The truth hurt.

"Tell you what, son. You turned out a lot better than I did. My parents didn't exactly raise me either, only left me with more issues than I can bear." Jungkook listens intently without reacting. This is the only normal conversation he's ever had with his mother. "I have practically no redeeming qualities, and having sex is the only way I can pass the time."

He groans. "I did not have to know that."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me to tell you about the birds and the bees first?"

"I get it, you're a prostitute with no salary."

She whacks his head before bursting out in laughter. He suppresses his own laugh and merely chuckles through his nose.

"You would've been a better mother if you were high all the time."

"Nah," she shakes her head, "I just needed to be more present throughout your childhood. It's too late for me now." She shrugs as her lips fall into a hard line. Jungkook's smile falters and he doesn't say anything.

When she feels tears welling up in her eyes, she blinks repeatedly and lets go off the railing. "Good night, Kook. I'll see you in the morning."

He nods at her and watches her leave. Beats staying with Taehyung.

"Night," he murmurs to himself before putting out his joint and entering the living room. All the lights are out, but he's still familiar with the layout of the place.

When he passes the couch, he flinches at the sound of Yeri's voice. "G-Good night–"

"Shut up."

Before jumping on his bed, he checks his phone to see if you've sent any texts.

You: good night and sleep well baby!! i love you sm <33

♡ the love of my life ♡: gn and ilym

♡ the love of my life ♡: lets meet up tmr

Forget all the slow dancing, baby we can take it to the bathroom.

Transmasc!reader x Transmasc!

Terms used for reader and Copia are

Cunt, clit, dick, etc.

A/N: Oopsies anyway..This is my first time writing smut. Please for the love of god don’t bully me 😭

Warnings: Warnings: Finger-Fucking, afab!receiving oral (both ways implied.) Implied Thigh-crushing kink, kink, bondage (slightly), poorly translated Italian, implied choking, and use of sex toys due to the transgender boys not having bottom surgery.

In no time at all, you were pressed up against the sink in the bathroom. Papa Emeritus IV had you gripping the edges of the marble sink, his leather glove thrown onto the side counter. His hand was shoved down your jeans, rubbing furious circles into your swollen clit. You stared at your reflection, wondering how you got here. He tugged at your hair, making you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Look at yourself, Principe. So desperate for the touch of your papa.”

He only smiles behind you, before slipping his fingers fully into your slick-coated cunt. He pulls them out just as fast, running his tongue along his digits in an attempt to tease.

You only could groan, your thoughts becoming fuzzy as he continued to tease you through your tight jeans. One hand had a firm grasp around your neck, the other one rubbing against your core through your clothing. He flipped you around, so you were facing him.

“Good boy, Dolce. Do I have permission to eh- continue?”

He stumbles, his awkward demeanor still very present in his voice. You nod quickly, the tight feeling in your core tightening quickly.

“Fuck, Papa..”

You gasp as his fingers uncross the laces on your dress pants, only for him to realize you weren’t wearing boxers.

“God dammit, you truly are a filthy slut, huh? I like people who are bold, I’ll give you that-“

He snickers, picking you up and carrying you until you rest on his bed. He gets on his knees, pulling a grey shoe-box from under his bed. He pulls out a thick knot of red rope, glancing at you for your reaction.

You nod, anxious yet curious on what exactly he was going to do. He pulled your jeans off in one move, before glancing down once more at your face.

“Oh my gods, Copia please-“

You beg, as he ties your hands to his headboard. He backs away, now on his stomach in between your legs.

“I cannot wait to see how you taste, Rosebud.”

He smirks at the nickname, before diving between your legs and pressing a flat tongue against your dripping cunt.

is all you can muster, your thighs instinctively squeezing around his head. His eyes opened, green and white meeting your own gaze. His eyebrows knitted together as he moaned into your clit, his eyes rolling back and his hips jutting against the bed. You feel Copia’s hands snake around your thighs, gripping them as he continued drinking you down, licking and sucking at your swollen clit. It wasn’t too long before he pushed one of his hands through your thighs and into your hole, diligently working you to your limit. That knot in your stomach only got tighter, as you writhed against the restraints. As you squeezed tighter around his head and pulled his hair as he tongue-fucked you, his moans only grew rapid and his hips rolling against the bedsheets in an attempt to pleasure his neglected clit.

“Fuck, Copia.. I need to cum-“

You gasped, tears pricking at your eyes. He pulled your thighs away from his face, before kneeling between your legs.

“While I can’t fuck into you how I would like, I can give you a taste of what we can do.”

He sighed, unbuttoning his top and tossing it to the side, his torso becoming a quick attention-grabber. You stared at his T-scars, the 666 on his breast, the hair that trailed down to his untouched yet sopping cunt, everything. He groans, stripping himself of his jeans and boxers as he kneeled between your legs again.

“Tesoro, can I ask a favor of you?”

He tilts his head, running his hands up your hips.

“Yeah, whatever you want.”

He smiles, before undoing the restraints holding your hands from touching him.

“Can you return the favor, Caro Mio?”

You wasted no time, pushing his thighs apart and leaning your head down to taste his excitement for you.

You dive down between his thighs, sucking at his clit like a starving man. He grabs at your hair, forcing your tongue in his dripping wet cunt. “Yes Tesoro, oh fuck-”

You drill two fingers inside him, frantically pumping in and out of him. You run furious circles around his dick with your tongue, pulling more obscene noises from your beloved boyfriend.

“Good fucking boy, Baby. Taking my fingers so well.” You groan, his hips rolling to meet your face. He whines, his hips stuttering a moment. You land a harsh slap to his thigh, looking at the marks he put on you earlier and the ones you put on him. “Fuck, I’m gonna- I need to cum.” He crys out, and you feel a sudden tightness around your fingers. You get amusement out of this, as you grip his hips and lick against his dick. You get an idea, running slick circles into his slit as you look up at him. “If I let you cum now, you’re going to cum for me one more time after.”

He seems to take the offer, crying out as he’s yanked over the edge. You help him ride out that orgasm, before shoving your fingers down his throat so he could taste his own bittersweetness. “Fucking like that, whore? I’ll give you more, don’t worry.” You reach in the bedside drawer, pulling out two items. A purple vibrator, and a small towel. You place a light kiss against his earlobe, before whispering: “I’m going to make you cum so hard your wetness runs down your thighs.” He moans at that, before shoving his hands in your hair. You click on the purple toy, it vibrates in your hand. You look down at him, a slickness already covering his cunt. “So wet for me already, huh? I’m surprised you didn’t cum just from the sight of it.” You shove the toy into him, angling it to hit his sensitive areas over and over. He whimpers loudly, biting his lip. You land your mouth back on his overly sensitive dick, swirling around it with your tongue before giving it a nice suck. He moans, screaming your name loudly. “Shit- Shit..” You smile up at him, moving your hand a bit faster. “So fucking desperate, absolutley filthy.”

He groans, his hips stuttering. You remove your mouth from his clit, before going to bite along his jaw. You tease at his cunt with both the toy and your fingers, biting deeper onto his neck.

“You wanna finish so bad, don’t you? If you cum, I want to hear you loud and clear, got it?” He nods, panting and whimpering. You shove the toy against his deepest sensitive spot, before landing a harsh two-fingered slap to his dick, causing his orgasm to peak higher and ride out a bit longer. You watch his facial expressions closely, all while rubbing his thighs with your free hand. He lands his hands on his face, watching as he regains his mind.

“I can’t believe I let you do that.” He chuckles, covering his pink-painted face. He attempts to pull you down before you collapse to his side. You pull him close, petting his hair while you cuddle him. He sighs contently, before he loses consciousness in your arms.

"I Love you, Mio Cuore."

I don't know why I love it so much when someone calls Lister David, but I do. We should do it more often.

Wonderful as usual darling. ❤️

Smegtober- Day 11 (Jelousy)

“A touch-T,” Howard practically purred, his smile off putting to Rimmer as he watched him practically plead for Lister's touch. Benign as his intentions were outwardly, Rimmer wasn't an idiot; he knew Howard. He also knew Lister just as well. Lister eventually clutched Howard's head in his hands…

Even then, Rimmer felt sick. His brother's lustful smirk, eyes roaming over his bunkmate’s body in that tight elasticated jumpsuit. Taking his chance, Rimmer pried his brother away from the liverpudlian, his ears practically ringing when he suggested Lister try again.

A wave of relief washed over the younger Rimmer as he convinced his brother to accept a tour, though the thought of Howard's hungry gaze still made him nauseous. 

“What's the matter, Arnie?” Howard spat as he asked, naturally smug.

“You know what, ‘Howie’,” Rimmer hissed in return, “the way you're drooling over David. It's disgusting.” 

Howard let out a chuckle, “Am I sensing jealousy, brother? Am I a threat?”

“Not at all,” Rimmer scoffed, albeit unconvincingly, “I have no interest in men.” 

Howard squawked, a nasally laugh, “Aww, little brother,” he pinched his cheek, “you really aren't fooling anybody.” 

Scowling, Rimmer felt his blood run cold, pushing his brother back and huffing as he abandoned Howard and Crawford, storming back to the drive room. Lister ,still stood with his phone pressed to his ear, leaning over the top of a control panel, lips pursed, turned to face him ipon his entrance, concerned.

“Hey, Rimmer, man,” he lowered the phone, already noticing the hologram's blotchy cheeks and watery eyes, “What happened?”

Frustrated, Rimmer rubbed his face, “Nothing,” he growled, defensive. 

Lister wasn't stupid…

Footsteps echoed as The stimulant and other hologram approached; Sparks went off in Lister's mind, a beautifully evil idea, perfect as it was sinister.

He cupped Arnold's cheek and gushed dramatically, “Oh, Arnie.”

The hologram met his eyes with confusion; Lister pulled him into a kiss, groaning over-enthusiastically as Howard strutted in, smugness draining from his features at the sight. His eyes span. A resentment jam.

Grinning like he had won a prize, the human pulled away, proud of his work, “That'll show the smegger.” 

Silent Confessions

[CW- themes of self hate, cursing/swearing, it’s sfw but mildly suggestive] Boyfriend Whitney x GN PC

His eyes opened by a fraction, blue orbs adjusting to the street light filtering in through the window in the small, stuffy room. He blinked rapidly, as if only now remembering how he ended up here. Whitney gently shifted in the small creaky bed, the worse for wear sheets covering your half naked body rode down with his movements.

You whined a little, flailing your arms around in an attempt to pull the boy closer, further entangling your limbs, under the sheets.

“Stop moving” you mumbled nosing along the crook of his neck. The sound of his steady pulse against your face gave you a sense of security, and a feeling of familiarity. A feeling that you were growing dangerously attached to, “l’m cold” you managed to whisper. Even half asleep you could practically see, no, feel him roll his eyes.

“You’re getting way too comfortable with me, aren’t you little one… ordering me around now, huh?” he murmured as he shifted in the cramped space, easily scooping you up and placing you atop him, as he pulled the old blanket over both of your forms. Despite his rough tone, his hands were gentle, like always. His chin came to rest on your head, strong arms holding your waist like a lifeline, and you found yourself unconsciously matching your breathing with his, secretly loving the way both of your chests touched when they rose and fell in tandem.

A beat of silence passed. Both of you said nothing, just listened to the sound of your combined breathing dancing in the dark. Whitney rubbed soothing circles on your back, slender fingers inching down to find the words written in black permanent marker near your left hip.

A small frown creased his forehead. His blue eyes caught the words emblazoned on your skin, reflected into the mirror of the dilapidated armoire. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he kept staring at the reflection transfixed.

He saw the way your legs wrapped around his waist, how your head rested on his chest, and those damned words that he himself wrote, sat there on your body, mocking him.It was all too intimate, and suddenly he regretted letting his guard down. Regretted letting you drag him to this dump of a place.

It was somewhere he had sworn not to enter. He had been here with his lackeys before. But he never stayed long. Those fleeting glimpses into your life were enough to sate his curiosity. Of this weird fixation he held about you. He hated that he was almost obsessed about knowing what you did after school, where you lived, whom you hung out with.

But when you finally humored his stupid request and took him to your crusty old orphanage, that small shy smile you wore when you showed him your bedroom, tore at his heart in a way that he simply couldn’t comprehend. He felt nauseated at the idea of defiling you in a place you felt safe in. Promising to himself that he will not ruin this little haven that you called home.

Yet here he was bathing in the after effects of his selfish decisions. No he wasn’t selfish. He was downright greedy. Eagerly taking everything that you so naively offered. That’s how your relationship had always been. Him taking incessantly and you giving immeasurably.

He heaved out a shuddering breath, willing his eyes to move from the reflection. He looked around the small quarters in a desperate attempt to divert his thoughts away from the dangerous chasm that they were leading him to.

You will never be enough for them

He clenched his eyes shut trying to drown out the annoying voice.

They are too kind for a pathetic human like you. You will simply drag them down.

“Shut.Up” he ground out, his grip tightening unconsciously around you. You winced in your sleep and Whitney blanched. He instantly loosened his grip and pressed a soft kiss to your hair as a silent apology.

He could hear the birds chirrup in the distance. Cold air found its way through a draft in the window to tickle his skin. The dawn was approaching. He gently rolled over and placed you in the centre of the bed, carefully tucking you in as he slipped out of the covers silently.

Despite his solemn mood, a small smile crept up his face at the beautifully disheveled state you presented. Hair all mussed up, lips swollen legs sticking out from underneath his white shirt that covered your chest. Unable to stop himself he leaned down and caught your lips in a soft kiss, tasting those feathery dreams that he dared not see with open eyes.

He roved a hand though his blond hair, moving the fringe aside to get a good look at your face.

“So trusting. Letting your guard down around me” he laughed bitterly. Unbidden his eyes flitted to the words on your left hip and he looked away quickly before he started thinking too deeply about it.

It was an impulse. Yes. That’s exactly what it was. You both were intoxicated and he was so lost in the way you pleasured him, that he simply didn’t think before he wrote.

He stood to his full height and walked towards the door of the small room. He better slip out before that shady bitch Bailey found him.

Hovering a little by the door, he hesitated before stalking to your desk and grabbing a sheet of paper. “Screw it” he whispered taking a pen and quickly scribbling a note before he could talk himself out of it.

“You can keep the shirt. It looks better on you ;)”

He folded the small note and placed it beside your head, proudly sauntering outside your room shirtless. He didn’t look back, as he left you slumbering. Leaving nothing but his shirt and the words behind that he was too afraid to say to you.

And surely, you were in for a surprise when you would wake up and see “I love you” resting on your hip in his messy penmanship instead of the usual “Whitney’s toy”

Random DoL drabble because I’m bored… I just imagined what if Jordan was a LI with the same corruption stat as Sydney. So here it is lol~

CW- Religious themes, it’s sfw but mildly suggestive

Jordan The Priest x GN PC

You are in the Temple. Your hands are loaded with gardening tools as you move in and out of the garden. Your habit is covered in patches of dirt, stray leaves stick to your head and other places. You can feel sweat on your body with the amount of exercise you are getting |++strength +fatigue

As you enter the temple, your shoulder roughly collides with someone making you fall flat on your butt. You feel a sharp twinge of pain, as everything in your grasp is scattered around you |+stress +pain

You look up to see a familiar face loom over you. “I am so sorry, my child” Jordan mutters softly as he bends down and helps you up, lifting you by your arms. “I wasn’t watching where I was going” His long golden hair, slips from the sides of his cowl and tickles your nose. He frantically moves about gathering your scattered items as you dust yourself off.

Jordan smiles at you apologetically as he hands over the items to you, “I apologize again. I see you’re hard at work.” He gives you the items. Your fingers brush slightly. You smirk a little and hold his hand yanking him close to your face. His eyes widen as he stares at you, your faces inches apart, “Thank You” you mutter huskily making his breath hitch |+Arousal +Jordan’s Corruption

“Do-don’t mention it” a flush rises to his face, he stutters as he hastily picks up his book from the ground and walks quickly towards the pews without glancing back.

Its evening. You are at the orphanage at Domus street. You are wrapped in a towel as you move about your room, looking for your journal. After an hour long of futile search, your eyes land on a book with a brown leather binding.

It’s similar to yours, but when you flip it open, the name, “Jordan” rests on the page in neat and elegant cursive handwriting.

A curiosity fills you, and you sit on your bed and begin reading through the pages. Most of it is just mundane stuff, their schedule for everyday, some bookkeeping of temple allowances, and even regular musings. You mindlessly flip the pages, almost in a bored fashion when your eyes land on a very recent entry.

“I don’t understand what is happening these days. I find myself facing a deep precipice. This is wrong. So very wrong. In vain have I tried to cleanse myself of these thoughts. These vice like feelings are eating away at my mind. I can sense it. This darkness is slowly sweeping me in its corrupt hands, and I am willingly walking into its embrace.

I should’ve known you were trouble the moment I saw you drag Sydney into the depths of depravity. Yet I crave for you. I want you to look at me the way you look at them. I want to feel those emotions that feel so foreign to me. I feel alive in so very long a time. I have begun to look forward to the time you sneak up on me when you think I’m not looking. Those fleeting moments have ignited a flame of sorts. So Lord forgive me for I think I have sinned. Because I want to be loved by the sin incarnate”

Your mind swims with possibilities. This is a surprise. You never expected Jordan to reciprocate those feelings. Your heart thuds wildly as you realize something with a start. If you have Jordan’s journal right now, it means that your journal is currently in Jordan’s possession. And it has much more graphic and detailed entries inside it. Your own personal confessional of sorts that always begin with, “Forgive me Jordan, for I have sinned”

It holds several anecdotes about your little crush on the priest. Long paragraphs about the things you’d like to do with him |++ Arousal ++Jordan’s corruption

A lewd warmth fills you, as you think about running into Jordan tomorrow. You feel excited about the situation but it’s too tame to remove the cloud over your mind |-stress

[Silly bonus lols]- You are in the temple garden watering the flowers. You hear some footsteps approaching. It’s Jordan. He doesn’t look you in the eye, as he silently hands you over your journal. You can see his hands trembling a little. A wild tinge of red dusting his cheeks. When you think he’ll leave, he reaches inside his robe and pulls out a bottle. He uncorks it and just like that pours the entire contents all over your head. It seeps through your clothes making you shudder slightly as your habit clings to your body.

“It’s holy water” he mumbles, “You need it”. He leaves you alone in the garden, shivering as he walks back inside |++ Jordan’s corruption