weirdo

I write sometimes 18+ // MINORS DNI

[grmcreepr]

Social Rejects

CNTXT: Gyutaro has scrapped his way into a shared house with the other Kizuki by helping with their dirty work. He saves his earnings to pay for Ume’s tuition at the local college; he’s a hard worker and doesn't get out much, not that he really cares to–unlike his beloved little sister. When his sister starts bringing her tutor to the house, he is surprised by his own sudden attraction to her. She was kind, intelligent, and clearly not interested in him in the slightest. Not wanting to give up his new found prize, he plots to make a move at an upcoming party Ume is throwing. WORD COUNT: 2.7k CW:NSFW/MDNI, noncon elements, drugged sex, creampie A03

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The tinking of your nail on the side of your glass and the hum of the old refrigerator were the only things keeping you grounded in the small hazy kitchen–it had been the only room with an open window that allowed you to partake in fresh air that wasn’t laced with some kind of smoke. 

You swayed nervously in your spot, clinging to the nearest corner seemed like the only reasonable thing to do, otherwise you’d get washed back out into the sea of drunk college students who didn't know that a drinking limit did exist. Ignoring the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach, you took another sip of your less than patible warm beer. Absolutely terrible. You couldn’t help but sigh as thoughts of what you could be doing flittered in your mind…literally anything else–this was truly hell. Maybe giving Ume free tutoring lessons hadn’t been for the greater good after all. 

Someone bumped into your precious window and the damn thing shut faster than any accessibility law probably allowed; seems you were destined to suffocate in this neon lit room afterall. It’s not like you were new to drinking, you just weren’t used to drinking in such…conditions. Rowdy strangers bumping into you as their drinks sloshed and soaked every available surface was not exactly your scene. The rhythmic tinking on your now borderline empty glass picked up its pace. You backed yourself further into the corner, trying desperately to blend into the side of your fridge…well it wasn’t your fridge. It was Ume’s and even that was uncertain, you were sure you’d heard her mention having four or five other roommates. To be fair she was the reason you were here and also the reason why you were alone. You'd only seen her once that evening and that was when you arrived and she had shoved your apparently designated drink into your hand. Not that you blamed her–she knew everyone here and you only knew her, well except for-

“You’re not going to puke in my kitchen, right?” Gyutaro.

He wasn’t a friend but he certainly wasn’t a foe, saying you knew him was a bit of a stretch. You definitely knew of  him, having seen him venture into the very same kitchen when you’d spend evenings helping Ume with her homework. You really only knew his name thanks to her calling, or more so begging, for him to bring her snacks. Perhaps he didn’t even know your name, the thought was a little discouraging.

“Uh no- I don't think- sorry am I in your way…” you tried to scoot as far as you could away from your beloved fridge without bumping into another intoxicated stranger–in hindsight using the fridge as a safe haven for avoiding people wasn’t exactly the smartest idea; your scoot ended up being more of a stumble. In normal circumstances, such a thing would only be slightly embarrassing, but in the presence of your friend’s cute older brother…you contemplated jumping out of the already closed window. Maybe it would be best if he didn’t know your name.

“Right…” he’s doing a poor attempt at hiding a smile as he leans into the fridge–emerging with two new bottles. One’s a type of juice and the other’s half full with a clear liquid, presumably some sort of vodka. “That just means you need another drink.” 

You intend to protest, ready to claim your original drink was yet to be finished but a quick glance at your glass revealed that you had indeed finished. Well at least it wouldn’t be more shitty beer. Your stammering earned a roll of his eyes as he turned to mix the drinks on the counter behind him.

“Don’t worry it’s not that cheap shit I’m sure Ume gave you.” he calls over his shoulder before turning back to hand you your new cup while plucking your old glass out of your nervous hands. You try to ignore the way your body tingles as his hand grazes yours. He gives you an expectant look and you give your new drink a tentative taste. Holy shit, it's horrible. His raspy laugh barely makes up for him poisoning you.

“Not a fan of drinking?” he’s still laughing as he takes a sip of his drink–seemingly unfazed by the gasoline in his own cup. 

“No, it’s just that I prefer sweeter things.” It’s not until the words are out that you realize how lame they sound. Now you’re the girl that can’t shoot whiskey.

“Yeah I bet.” You can’t stop the blush from forming and do your best to hide behind your cup, what was that supposed to mean. Something indiscernible flashes across his face and a beat goes by before either of you speaks again–he breaks the silence with a vague wave of his drink to the surrounding people, “So…you having fun?” 

“Yeah! Yeah totally…no not really.” This wins another husky laugh and you don’t know if it's the lack of air circulation in the room, the gasoline concoction, or the way his eyes had raked over you that’s making you feel abnormally warm. He takes another drink before making his way towards the kitchen threshold.

“Alright party animal, follow me.” Wait what. Following someone you barely know is one thing, but following the guy you’ve secretly been harboring a crush on for the past two months was another. So tutoring Ume had been for the greater good.

He’s already disappearing into the crowd so you have to shove a bit to catch up and when you do he shoots you a glance that makes you feel warm all over again. You follow him through the hoards of people, not knowing if you’re more impressed by the fact that Ume knows this many people or that a house can hold so many people without collapsing in on itself. Getting up the stairs without being thrown over the railing is tricky and Gyu has to reach out to hold your wrist with a gentle clasp in order to not lose you to the crowd. He doesn’t let go when you reach the top of the stairs and you just hope he can’t feel your pulse beating like a jackrabbit. He doesn’t set you free until you reach a door at the end of the surprisingly empty hall; opening the door reveals a rather…interesting room.

His room was undeniably a mess but it was still fascinating nonetheless. Various cans and abandoned dishes covered the available surfaces and you couldn’t walk a full step without stepping on a piece of clothing or clutter–that mixed with the packed bowl could explain the strange musk that seemed to engulf the room. But the shelves lining the walls featured little figurines that a part of you found endearing and the walls themselves were covered with posters of various bands, video games, and movies. In the corner sat a particularly fancy pc and monitor with a scantily clad woman as its screensaver. You couldn’t help but let out a snicker of your own.

“Oh- um that was a joke…” Outside the ocean of people, Gyutaro seemed to have reverted back to his default quiet self that you recognized from past encounters. His eyes were avoiding yours and in the dim lit room–well lit compared to your previous perch–you could make out more of his distinctive features that you enjoyed so much. His eyes were a vibrant blue just like his sister’s but his had a perpetually tired look to them; your eyes trailed his birthmarks down to the neck of his hoodie and when he raised a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, you couldn’t help but notice that they continued down past the hem of his sweats. It was surprisingly hot in his room. You jumped at the sudden sound of his voice.

“Uh- I just wanted to say thanks for helping Ume.” Oh so he did recognize you. “I know she can be a handful…” he had closed the short gap between you and suddenly he was right in front of you. There was a sudden dry feeling in your throat and your cheeks couldn’t seem to shake a growing flush. 

“It’s no prob…no problem.” It was alarmingly hot, you began to tug at the neck of your own shirt in an attempt to fan yourself. Wordlessly he reached out and removed your half finished drink from your now shaking hands. He took another step closer and you could feel the heat of his own body pressing against yours, it was too much–you tried to step away from him but the back of your legs hit the edge of his bed causing you to stumble once more–regaining your balance seemed to take far more effort compared to before. The feeling of cool hands on your waist drew your attention back to the man standing before you. 

“I’m sorry…” The feeling of his hand petting the side of your head sent shivers of alarm down your body, something was very wrong. “You don’t know how hard it’s been restraining myself, I knew this’d be my only chance.” What? The room was beginning to spin and you let out a groan as you attempted to shield your eyes from the now harsh lighting. 

“Wha…what are you say-” You yelped as his gentle hands suddenly shoved you onto the plush bed behind you. The springs hadn’t even settled yet when the bed dipped besides you. 

The bed shifted and you could feel a tentative hand place itself on the bottom of your chin, gently turning your head to the side, through your spotted vision you could see his blue eyes looking at you. Looking wasn’t the right word–it was more like he was observing you. It was hard to think. How could this be happening? What was happening? This was not the Gyutaro you knew…or didn’t know. Shit. Your jumbled thoughts came to a hard stop as his thumb grazed your parted bottom lip; he takes his time, intensely watching for any sort of reaction. In your state, it was difficult to tell if you were even capable of giving him one. 

Content with the apparent lack of response, your eyes attempt to track him as he adjusts himself so that he’s barely hovering over you–though they seem to be failing as there’s apparently three of him. You attempt to struggle, but your whine falls on deaf ears and your weak attempt to push him off just lands the offending hand pinned above your head. His hold is nothing like before, it’s…harsh.

“Don’t start that, don’t make me do something bad…” His voice was tender, as if trying to comfort a wounded animal, but his grip was ruthless–a silent promise that he could be a man of his word. His pitiless glare doesn’t let up until you give him a small squeak of submission. This results in not just the softening of his gaze but of his grip as well though he doesn’t release you fully. “Good.”

With the apparent go ahead, he turns his attention back to your form and despite your urge to cry you can’t help but blush when his free hand begins massaging and squeezing your clothed breast. Though this does not keep him satisfied for very long and he crudely shoves your shirt up so that it sits right under your chin without much regard. You can feel his skin directly on you now and you do your best to turn your flushed face away from him just as he lowers himself and latches onto your left breast. He seems to enjoy the gasp it pulls out of you as you can feel the vibrations of a laugh course through your skin before feeling his tongue flick against your hard nipple in slow deliberate swipes. It’s an odd sensation and yet you can’t deny the growing warmth in between your legs.

It doesn't help that you can feel his crotch grinding against your upper thigh, the fabrics between you do nothing to stop you from feeling his hidden girth. A whimper slips past your parted lips when he unlatches himself from you with a wet pop.

Thoughts fill your head that maybe he was through, maybe he had come to his senses and was going to release you. But your ignorance is met with his wet lips against your own. A startled yelp only gives him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He explores your mouth with vigor despite your crying, occasionally stopping to bite at your now swollen lower lip. The hand on your wrist tightens its hold and his thrusts become harder to ignore as he’s angled himself in such a way that he's given himself the perfect angle to grind against your own sex. 

His lips leave yours and for a moment you chase after him, but your body still refuses to listen and your tired head falls back on the bed with a defeated thump. 

“See? No need to act like you don’t want this,” He coos from above, “You want me–I knew you did.” Perhaps the slick feeling between your thighs proved his point, but the tears flowing down your cheeks said otherwise.

“…please stop-” he releases his hold on your wrist and it feels as though you can breathe again–until his hand buries into your hair and pulls with such force you see stars. “Gyu-!”

“No, I told you!” his voice is cracking but his grip doesn’t falter, “I thought you wanted me–you want me don’t you, baby?” He’s buried himself into your neck, leaving small bites and soft kisses in his wake. Despite his outburst, you could still feel his hard cock straining against you. 

“Fine, just lie there and take it then.” you try to squirm away as he fiddles with your belt, but the grip in your hair keeps you in place. A choked sob escapes you as his fingers skim your exposed sex and you watch in horror as Gyutaro strips himself of his own sweats–unsheathing his erect cock dripping with precum; your pussy twitches at the sight of him and you want to scream. He ignores your pleas, no longer interested in making you a participating partner, and something wet slides along your entrance drawing another pitiful sob. You're mortified at how easily his throbbing cock slides into your wet cunt.

He stills for only a moment, watching as you writhe and adjust underneath him, before ramming into you with such force the bed shakes beneath you. His thrusts are erratic but his eyes and heaving breath never leave your face–it’s suffocating. Your whole body aches as his thick member stretches you from the inside out and you can’t stop the tears from streaming down your face–all you can do is lie there and take his pounding and desperately try to ignore the way each slap against your clit leaves your body craving more. Biting your already swollen lip is the only way to keep your moans to yourself; it didn’t matter that your wet sounds filled the room–you would not give him the satisfaction of confirming your pleasure. You didn’t want this and you didn’t want to be punished for your body reacting to his advances.

You hated the way your pussy clamped onto his cock, sucking him back in when all you wanted was to push him away. It was too much…his relentless pumping without mercy and his hot breath on you was all too much. You do your best to muffle your cry as your cunt convulses on his cock against your will–but he is not oblivious to the fluids now covering you both.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so good cummin’ all over me, baby.” he groans, slamming himself into your overly-sensitive and over-spent sex with new vitality.  His pounding finally comes to a stuttering end just as you think you can’t take it anymore. Tears flow freely as something warm and wet coats your insides.

He leans in once more and begins planting slow kisses down your neck as he leisurely pumps into your spent hole, making sure you take every last drop of his dedication.

“Don’t think we’re done just yet sweet girl, we’ve still got all night.”

[grmcreepr]

Desperate Measures

TLDR: It's up you to distract Gyutaro any way you can in order to keep your subordinates alive. WORD COUNT: 2.4k CW: NSFW/MDNI, dubcon, choking, rough sex, creampie

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you’re a seasoned corps member, a proud kinoe rank, assigned on a mission just outside of the entertainment district with a few other members lower level members 

after completing your mission, your celebration is cut short as you run into one of the twelve kizuki: things go well first—as well as they can go when you’re all incredibly injured but eventually you get her head off; though even this victory is short lived when something begins crawling out of her corpse

It takes everything in you to even just block his attacks but soon the other upper six is back up and terrorizing the rest of your subordinates; you do what you can to keep the new upper six distracted

You lead him deeper into the woods, hoping to restrict his movements–consequently restricting your own; knowing your injuries won’t allow you to leave alive either way, you shift your focus to buying your juniors enough time

The scent of pine filled your senses as you crashed through the snow covered floor, it would’ve been comforting if the taste of copper wasn’t flooding your mouth and your gushing nose wasn’t staining the snow around you. Perhaps your nose wouldn’t have shattered if that cursed demon hadn’t kicked you with such force…damn demon; it didn’t matter though, you had more important matters to attend to—like finding your sword. The blow had knocked it out of your hand and a quick scan of your surroundings revealed it laid a few yards ahead of you. Doable. 

You ignored the suspicious cracking sound coming from your ribs as you forced yourself up into a running start. The pain was unbearable, being thrown through multiple trees was far more painful than you could’ve originally imagined but ultimately you knew death would be far more painful. Your fingers grazed the hilt of your sword just as the ground suddenly rose at an exceptional speed, meeting your face for a second time as something heavy dug itself into your back.

“I’m surprised you’re still moving,” a gravely voice snickered from above you. “I was hoping you’d be dead by now.”

“But we’re having so much…so much fun…” you wheezed out, talking was painful and for a demon so emaciated he sure was heavy. You gave a half-assed attempt to push yourself up but all this earned was a tentative hum as he dug his heel further into your back.

“Sorry I’ve been told to not play with my food.” you could hear that stupid crooked smile still plastered onto his face, what you’d give to slash it off.

“So you weren’t raised in a barn-“ wrong move. The blow was instantaneous or at least it felt like it; one second you’re face down swimming in a mix of your own blood and slushed snow, the next you’re face to face with the demon with his hand around your neck. He’s close, close enough to where you can see the specks of orange in his glaring green eyes and his unruly hair is grazing your swollen nose; for a fleeting moment you can’t help but think his eyes are rather nice looking—perhaps it was the combined blood loss and lack of air. Though they weren’t pretty enough to keep you from clawing at the hand around your throat and administering feeble kicks to his abdomen that went unnoticed. 

“I should rip your tongue out, who do you think you are?!” You yelped as his unoccupied hand slashed down; luckily, the angle was tight enough that his claws hadn’t sliced deep enough to disembowel you but they had slashed your uniform in such a way that your bruised skin was now exposed to the cold air. “You’re not even that…that…” There was a sudden pause. Not exactly a favorable shift, his sneer had twisted back into a crooked smile and you could see the gears turning as his hand tightened around your neck. Suddenly his sharp teeth were mere millimeters from your face,the proximity of his mouth filled your nose with what could only be the smell of rotting flesh. 

“You’re going to die here. All alone.” He cooed, running a gnarly nail down the side of your face–leaving a small cut in its wake; tears involuntarily pricked your eyes and blood began dribbling out the side of your mouth. “I bet someone like you would really hate to be seen with the likes of me-” 

“You…bastard!” His free hand yanked the remaining pieces of your uniform off right as your own hand shot behind you, miraculously reaching the hilt of your sword; wasting no time, you swung the blade lodging it into his bicep. It wasn’t enough to do any real damage but it was enough to get him to loosen his grip and for you to worm your way from underneath him.

You didn’t get very far, having only stumbled a few feet or so before meeting the ground for a third time. He didn’t even need to do anything this time, your injuries were drastic enough to keep you down on their own. Though that didn’t stop him from plopping himself upon you once more with a husky laugh.

“How valiant of you, still fighting in such a pitiful state!” The sound of his snickering and the feeling of his clawed hand pressing the side of your face deeper into the dirt fanned a deep rage within you. “I promise to be gentle.” He purred, seemingly taking pleasure in your choked growl as his bony pelvis ground into your exposed back. Bastard! Bastard! Good for nothing demon! You clawed aimlessly at the surrounding snow desperate to find purchase on anything that could aid you, but a shrill distant cry caught both of your attention. Your subordinates. Tears openly streamed down your face; this whole time they had been fighting tirelessly and here you were doing nothing! You couldn’t even make a dent in this cursed demon!

“Hm maybe we won’t get to play after all-“

“No!” your voice was coarse and blood splattered with your words, you had to keep fighting–even if it meant entering realms of no return. With your remaining strength, you forced yourself to roll yourself against him “please…please don’t stop I-I need this-!” 

“…what a terrible actress you are…” he muttered but his eyes betrayed him, they were glued to your ass and in better circumstances you would’ve found even demon men not being immune to such a simple thing almost amusing. Your comical thought was interrupted by sharp talons suddenly finding themselves dug into the plush of your ass–he certainly didn’t waste any time. Your yelp died in the back of your crushed throat as he flipped you back over, much to the protest of your broken ribs–adjusting himself so that he was flushed against your heat. His speed was impressive if nothing else and you knew if he wasn’t being preoccupied by your advances then that speed would have been used against your subordinates. 

You instinctively wanted to clasp your knees together, but the thought of your sacrifice helping your underlings allows him to place his hand between your knees and crudely force them apart. He doesn’t seem to notice or care for your wincing at the sudden movement, your body still sore from battle.  

Staring blankly at your exposed sex, he appears unsure of what to do at this point but you’re too afraid to offer any pointers, recalling your crushed windpipe from when you last “insulted” him. Though the hesitation doesn’t last  for very  long; he leans in and gives a tentative lick to your center, causing your whole body to tense.

“What a unique taste,” he hums against you, the sensation was more stimulating than you’d like to admit “If I’d known this would be so rewarding, we would’ve started a while ago.”

“Shut- shut up!” You tried to muster a glare but your expressions could not hide the blush blooming across your face. Pinned down, all you could do was snap your gaze away from him–begging your mind to focus on anything else, anything but the feeling of him forcing his tongue into you as his nose bumped harshly into your clit. Not even the snow soaked in your own blood was enough to stifle your whimpering moans. Clearly uninterested in your sounds, he only tightened his grip on your thighs, giving himself a better leverage to dig deeper into you with his inhumane tongue. God! Why couldn’t this be less enjoyable! You get the feeling that this truly wasn’t about your own pleasure and he was really just tasting you—the thought was comforting in an odd way. You weren’t being eaten out by humanity’s sworn enemy—no! You were merely being slowly digested. Perhaps you were just trying to justify the growing warmth in your abdomen; feeling pleasure in this situation was wrong but your attempts to resist the growing sensation was futile as the demon quickened his pace. It was as if he was truly starved and to your horror your hips began to involuntarily thrust against him. There was no point in pretending anymore, your choked gasps and moans filled the surrounding forest; this did seem to draw his attention as you could feel his own hips begin to meet your own. 

“I…please-” whether or not you were begging for him to stop or go deeper was indiscernible—simply begging for the sake of begging. He doesn’t waver when your hands find purchase in his filthy hair, rather it seems to spur him on. The increase in speed and veracity leaves you feeling as if you can’t possibly take anymore…his croaked laughter snaps you from your pleasure induced haze.

You fail to hide your aggravation, but your scowl dies when you meet his eyes and see his face soaked in your liquids; you can feel your core quiver when he gives his lips a quick lick and shoots you a coy smile exposing his horribly sharp teeth. Maybe he wasn’t as inexperienced as you previously thought.

“Did you think I was going to be so kind?” his voice wasn’t malicious, it was almost playful—how infuriating, “I want you to admit that you’re enjoying this, that you’re dying to be fucked-” 

“Just shut up already, are you going to fuck me or not?!” Blood splashed onto his face but you couldn’t bring yourself to care; you wanted to protest, deny his accusations and refuse to give him satisfaction but the slick between your thighs and the ache you felt said otherwise. You would atone in hell but for right now all you could care about was your own needs; not even the smug look he wore as he licked at the blood you showered on him could sway you.

“…How pathetic.”

You hardly had time to process his words by the time you felt his cock being shoved unceremoniously inside you–when had he removed those shitty rags?! He didn’t give you anytime to adjust and he ignored your pained cry as he fucked you straight into the ground, digging his sharp nails into your hips—hard enough to draw blood; if his thrusts didn’t kill you, the blood loss was sure to do the job.

You let out a sob, the sensation of your flesh being torn while being impaled was so…sweet—you had never experienced anything like it before. His cock was bulging and it filled you up so nicely, it felt like at any moment he was going to tear you apart. It seemed like he wasn’t as impartial as he let on, his own groans began to mix with the sound of yours.

“Don’t tell me…you’re all like this-“ his wrong move. Relying on technique and strength built up over the years–skills that had saved your life more than once in the past, were now being used to conquer one last demon. You swung your legs around his back and twisted onto your side; it took all your mite but you were able to successfully mount the brute—for the first time tonight it was he who laid in the snow. It was clear your boldness had taken him by surprise, he gave you a skeptical look behind shaggy strands of hair now lightly dusted with white puffs of snow, but otherwise he made no effort to dislodge you. Not wanting to waste your remaining adrenaline, you lowered yourself onto his firm cock. A sense of pride washed over you when his eyes failed to move from where your bodies met as you ground into him—using his cock to fuck yourself. The sound of slapping skin was all it took to encourage him to grip your thighs and thrust his own hips up to meet yours. Fearing you’d lose your balance and give up your well deserved throne, your nails found purchase in his broad shoulders. The new angle gave you a perfect view of his surprisingly fit body, part of you felt disgusted knowing what exactly fueled his strength and another part of you wanted to explore each and every birthmark that littered his pale body.

You rode him for as long as your already weakened body would allow and when your body gave out he didn’t hesitate to hold you up on his own and continue to fuck up into you. To be used so blatantly and violently stirred something within you and you cried out as your sex clenched around his already soaked member. He wasn’t far behind, with a deep groan you could feel something hot being poured into you. You tried to ride him through it, hungrily taking in every ounce of his cum besides your better judgment but truly your body was too frail and when his claws let go of you you had no choice but to slump into the snow beside him.

You didn’t expect him to hold you after or anything of that sort—that would be ridiculous. Given the circumstances the kindest thing you could fathom him doing was killing you quickly. The pain and blood loss seemed to be catching up with your spent body, your vision was going dim and all you could see was your breath mixing in the cold night air. A husked voice muttered something nearby but you truly couldn’t care less about what that damn demon had to say.

When you came to, you found yourself in the infirmary surrounded by the remaining members of your squad who were all squawking your praise for single-handedly taking on upper six.

[mauswyx]

soft-spoken s/o

TLDR: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, Jennifer Check, and Bo Sinclair's reactions to having a fairly quiet s/o WORD COUNT: 1k CW: none, fluff AO3

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Thomas Hewitt

ironically would not be used to the silence at first; he’s used to chatters and screaming! He’s never met someone who speaks so quietly 

will lean towards you when you speak, listening intensely 

finds your silence comforting after the initial shock and enjoys your quiet presence as he goes about his business

quickly adapts to communicating with you via body language and facial expressions, etc; it is a method he’s familiar with after all

takes great pride that he’s the only one that can read your mind or decipher your mumbling

He couldn’t help but spare you a glance every so often as you sat at the opposite end of the barn as he worked. You were mending a shirt Luda Mae scavenged from some luggage…or at least trying to. Your bottom lip was swollen from being gnawed on and your brow was furrowed–the needlework must be tedious, he concluded. He turned his attention back to his work, a few minutes passed before he decided to glance up again only to find that you were muttering to yourself, trying to rethread the string through the eye.

Despite finding your frustration amusing, he couldn’t take your suffering anymore. He strode over to you, gently enveloping your hand in his before plucking the needle away. He made quick work of the thread, giving you a knowing look as he set back to work, but not before hearing a quiet “Thank you Tommy.” 

Brahms Heelshire

does not enjoy that he can’t coax loud reactions from you; he works so hard to mess with you and you don’t say anything?! How rude!

will switch gears and will purposefully pretend not to know what you’re gesturing to or that he can’t hear you to annoy you; he can play by your game but he won’t play fair

he’s been (watching) studying you through the walls so it’s quite easy for him to pick up on your body language to know what you’re feeling or wanting of him 

actually likes your voice and will do everything in his power to get you to use it; even if it means getting a scolding 

bedtime is his favorite part of the day because he gets to listen to you read; will pick out exceptionally long books to listen to you just a while longer 

Echoes etched the room as you tapped your foot against the dusty rug. He had been in a mood all afternoon: being especially disobedient and ignoring your calls from within the walls. He was being so difficult that you had no choice but to search for him, though it proved to be in vain as you couldn’t find him anywhere. A worried knot began to form in your stomach. There was only one thing you could do. With a deep inhale you rolled your head on your shoulders before letting out a shout.

“Brahms!” Your voice was hoarse–not used to being at such a volume, rolling your eyes in frustration “Please come out!” The scraping of wood met your ears shortly before his long arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You bit the interior of your cheek as you could hear the smugness in his voice, having won his game.

“There’s no need to shout.”

Jennifer Check

“they said no pickles.” embodiment 

at first, mistakes your quietness for being flustered by her and she amps up her prowess only to realize you’re like this…all the time…with everyone 

will speak for you whether it’s ordering your food or answering a question on your behalf; is actually exceptionally good at knowing what you want without much effort 

actually doesn’t mind the silence when you don’t feel like talking—grateful that you two can just share a moment together or that she can have someone to rant to

will not make a big deal if you feel talkative, she’ll casually continue the conversation in hopes it’ll make you feel more comfortable

“-and who does that? It’s bullshit!” she scoffed, gently scraping the tips of her long nails on the back of your hand as she laid next to you. You silently nodded in agreement, staring up at her face: her nose was scrunched and her eyes were glazed over, lost in thought–before suddenly snapping down to stare into your own. “I mean, you don’t think I’m in the wrong do you?” 

You couldn’t help letting your lip curl up at her pout, she had definitely been the cause of the altercation but you’d never tell her that; instead, you opted to halfheartedly shake your head. As expected, your poor acting didn’t go unnoticed and her eyes widened before playfully swatting her hand at your stomach.

“No way! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Bo Sinclair

“huh” x5

cannot understand what you’re saying for the life of him and gets annoyed very easily; more so at his own inability to comprehend you when everyone else seems to understand you just fine

interrupts you when you’re speaking, trying to guess what you’re saying instead of just listening 

puts on a big show to do as you asked when he does finally pick up on what you’re saying 

often wrongly infers what you’re saying but at least he’s trying

“Darlin’…'' he groaned, running a hand down his face “-you’re gunna needa work with me…” You huffed out a breath of air, already annoyed at having had to already repeat yourself twice and repeating yourself a third time honestly wasn’t even worth it; you just wanted the step-ladder to reach something in top-stock, but at this point you’d rather just climb the shelves themselves than have to be stuck in this never ending game of charades. You were half-tempted to do just that, but the look on Bo’s face made you relent; he had been so patient the least you could do was not give up on him.

“I need the ladder…” you said again, this time trying to enunciate your words as best as possible and to your surprise his face lit up. Not a great sign. 

“Bladder?” he repeated, not waiting for a response as he sped towards the shop counter, “Don’t worry baby! I’ll get the restroom key!”

[mauswyx]

give thomas glasses

Sloan wore them so bad eyes could be genetic or is just something that happens overtime with age or circumstances

Him working in that dark basement is definitely putting a strain on his eyes so that’s not helping

And sewing in the dark! Oml yeah he needs ‘em

Would be in denial 100% it’s going to take a lot of convincing that it’ll improve his way of life and work (that’s what gets him)

Not leaving to go to an optometrist so having to scavenge through victims’ belongings until you find a pair that isn’t broken and the closest prescription (lvl: hard mode)

Doesn’t fuss over the design of the frame so that’s helpful

Is amazed at how much clearer the world is

extremely grateful that you went through all that trouble to help him

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“Mornin’!” You called cheerfully rounding the kitchen corner “Did you- Tommy where are your glasses?”

The large man stopped his descent down the stairs and shuffled awkwardly in his place, embarrassed to have been caught. They had been lost or better flung off in the last round up. It's not like he hadn't tried to look for them! But searching without them. . .proved difficult.

Averting his eyes from your quizzical gaze, he lamely waved his hand around in a general motion with a gruff huff.

“They’re . .around?” You raised an eyebrow “Thomas Brown Hewitt did you lose the glasses I slaved to find?”

He would’ve paled at the sound of his full name being used had it not been for the upturned quirk in your lip. You were just teasing him. Thank god. His shoulders relaxed. Losing the glasses you personally searched for him was one thing. Losing them and having you mad at him was another. He could die somewhat at peace with the former.

Reassured that you did not hate him for his transgression, he gave a small nod

“Well. . .that’s on me,” you sighed making your way up the stairs “I knew I should’ve put one of those chains on it!”

You squeezed past him on the landing, grabbing his hand as you passed and pulling it with you—forcing him to follow back up the stairs. Thomas hung his head and obediently followed without complaint. No longer able to feel embarrassed with his new focus being your hand on his. Leading him past a handful of doors, you stopped in front of your own bedroom.

“Now, we’re not going to make this a habit.” you smiled playfully waving a mock-accusatory finger at him before pushing your way into the room.

Not make coming into your room a habit or not losing his glasses a habit?

He hoped you meant the latter.

Dropping his hand, to his dismay, you made your way to kneel next to the bookshelf that sat snuggly between your bed and adjoined bathroom. Glancing up and noticing he was still in the doorway, you raised your arm to give your bed a pat.

“Come on I don’t bite.”

Thomas hesitated but decided it was probably best to do as you say. He quietly shuffled across your room, watching as you moved objects out of the way attempting to reach something hidden. He tried to sit down as gently as he could but the bed still creaked angrily.

“Yeah she’s a bit noisy, right?” You huffed pulling yourself onto the bed next to him having seemingly found what you were looking for on the bottom shelf. In your lap sat a moderately sized jewelry box. He shot you a questioning glance.

“I didn’t want Jedidiah to come scavenge the frames.” you explained with a shy smile.

You flipped the lid and exposed the gutted interior of the box. Instead of compartments for rings or earrings and such sat a heap of a dozen or so glasses. Thomas leaned over slightly to examine more closely what you had done only to realize you two were sitting shoulder to shoulder, he quickly pulled back and tried to scoot away but the bed, being too small, only gave a small grace of an inch or two between you.

“I figured it might be a good idea to keep whatever intact pairs I could find,” you continued, not seeming to notice his retreat, “just in case something like this happened.”

Thomas stared blankly, not only were you keeping spares for his sake but you were protecting them...for him? You’d secretly done him an act of service that most likely would have gone unnoticed had it not been for this exact scenario. The thought of you keeping him in your thoughts while he wasn't around made his stomach churn and his face flush.

You let out a breathy laugh and picked out a pair, “Well let’s get to work, we don’t have all morning!”

Thomas remembered the previous time you had helped him find a relatively useful pair so the process was not unfamiliar at least. You’d hand him a pair to put on, he’d shake his head if it wasn’t any good, you’d hand him a different pair in response while moving the duds into a pile for Jedediah to make his crafts with, and so on and so forth. Though the process was tedious and repetitive, he could never get used to your hand gently brushing against his or the way you peered up to him eagerly waiting for his response. That was something he was remorseful for, without his glasses he couldn’t see your face as clearly.

“Well this is going exceptionally better than the first time.” you hummed recalling how he had slapped a pair out of your hands at your first attempt to put them on his face or how he accidentally snapped a pair’s temples having forgotten to be gentle with them.

Thomas smiled behind his mask in agreement. Moving to take the current pair off, he froze. You had placed your hand on his masked cheek and slowly turned him to face you so you could place a new pair on him yourself. You let your hand linger on his cheek as you gazed into his eyes. Thomas swore you were bearing your eyes into his very soul and branding his skin, through the mask, with your touch.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, the hand that didn’t hold his cheek in place absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair behind his ear and caused his breath to hitch. If you hadn’t noticed how red he was before, you certainly noticed his heavy breathing and beet red face now.

“Um how’s that?” you coughed out, quickly shoving your hands into your lap and looking everywhere but at him.

Snapping back to the task on hand, Thomas gave a small jump trying to discern whether or not the pair was working. And wait a minute. He could see clearly! Much more clearly than the last pair at that too!

Thomas hummed happily and nodded his head at you.

“Wait really!” You exclaimed, clasping your hands together “Wow what luck you look so handsome in this pair too!”

He let out a choked wheeze and quickly stood to avoid your beaming gaze. Thomas didn't care what anyone else said—you certainly knew how to go in for the kill.

“Ah wait! Let me look for a chain!”