#You can also teeter between two options

[dragonpyre]

[lisired]

the devil’s cup

pairing: demon!haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), demons/underworld, mentions of death and self-destruction, unprotected sex/breeding (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), edging, very slight degradation

summary: In a world where humans and demons are separated by earth and the unknown, you’re curious about the creatures that most mortal beings are too frightened to investigate. More specifically if they can please you sexually. As they say, curiosity killed the cat.

wc: 6.8k (this is the shortest fic I’ve done in a minute)

a/n: quick (and short) write! as always, feedback is appreciated!

There was a bit of division between the upper and underworld. 

That said, that never prevented the interaction of humans and infernal spirits. It only limited them, though even with said inhibitions in place, forbidding could only go so far within mortal control. 

Not everyone was god-fearing. Least of all demons. 

Though you weren’t exactly fearless, you were curious to a fault. Human knowledge of the underworld was limited. You lived in a world where plenty of supernatural beings - werewolves, faes, vampires and the like - coexisted in an integrated society, but demons lived in an unexplored world of their own.

Which, obviously, was the underworld. 

The church insisted it was for your own sake. You had practically never mentioned your intrigue to anyone, though that was chiefly because you were terrified to. The pastors were passionate in their sermons, deeming anyone who played with the devil a sinner beyond redemption and a betrayer of faith. You knew you’d be thrown scornful glances in an instant. 

You weren’t the only curious one. There were plenty groups of people who conjectured about the underworld and its occupants. Which was not an option for you for many reasons. First of all, they teetered on extremism. Second, you would undoubtedly be banished from society for so much as breathing near them. 

Your only option was your friend. Who happened to be supernatural himself. 

Ten laughed. “Let me get this straight. You want to fuck around with the devil?” 

You frowned. Though you definitely preferred the ridicule over the comtempt. He, however, wasn’t exactly in the place to mock you. “Come on, Ten. Didn’t you call on a succubus?” 

“Correction - you want to fuck the devil.” 

“Ten,” you whined. 

Ten shook his head. This was hilarious, because you were completely serious. It was also somewhat worrying. Most humans that had toyed with the devil for too long never survived. “Babe, I’m a vampire. Have been for sixty-two years. I’m technically in my eighties. You, sweetheart, are a human. Incubi can kill mortals like you.”

No wonder he tended to act like a cranky grandpa. You folded your arms stubbornly. 

The truth was that you were searching for a way to spice up your sex life and strangely enough, a demon sounded like exactly what you needed. You were desperate at this point. The men earth had provided for you were useless. You could count on both hands how many times you had given them a try and were ultimately unsatisfied. You were out of options. 

“One time won’t hurt, right?” you asked, batting your lashes. “Please, Ten. I just want to try. I can only die if I do it continuously.” 

Ten blew out a sigh. “Woman, you’re insane.” 

You whined, “Pretty please? I’ll literally buy you those Starbucks drinks you like everyday for a month. I need this.”

Ten mulled the offer over. On one hand, this was not only dangerous, but deadly. There was a chance that he could risk losing you in the process. But on the other, you were a responsible adult woman. It wasn’t like you would be selling your soul. You’d simply be testing the waters. “Fine. I’ll help you, but you better only do this shit once. I’ve had to bury a friend before. I don’t wanna go through that hell again.”

You lept up excitedly and cheered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so much.”

“Whatever,” Ten said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be back later with the stuff. And I’m taking it back after tonight.” 

Frankly, you couldn’t care less. You knew your best friend was only trying to protect you, and you genuinely didn’t intend on disobeying. You were curious, not stupid. Nor did you have a death wish. 

Ten reappeared later that night with the materials necessary to summon a demon. Technically, you could have done it without them, but that would’ve been a much more ineffective, chance-based approach. It also most likely would have taken way longer. According to Ten, the board had a ninety-percent success rate. 

He had told you, “Unless you’re like, extremely unfuckable, it’ll work for sure.”

You snorted. 

That was how you met Haechan. 

Black smoke rose from the ground, wavering murkily with a ghastly noise until it dwindled fainter and fainter. You took a step or two back, holding your breath with curious fear as you waited for the mist to clear. 

Once it did, the handsomest man you had ever seen materialized before you.

You audibly gasped. Frankly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. His dark hair was slicked back, forehead exposed to the breeze that temporarily coursed through your home, and he was tan-skinned. Like the heat of hell had graced his body. 

His pretty lips curled into the utmost smuggest grin. “Aren’t I lucky? I could feel that you would be gorgeous.” 

“You could feel it?” you repeated dumbly. In your defense, you were stunned. 

The average idea of a demon was a grotesque blood-hungry monster and needless to say, this nameless boy didn’t fit the bill. Part of you was half certain that Ten was pranking you, firm in his decision that it was foolish for a human to engage with a demon. He seemed like a regular, everyday being. Except maybe not. Most men weren’t this beautiful. And his presence was inexplicably strong.

Haechan scoffed, “Yeah? How else do you think I got here? I could feel your energy. It was calling me.” 

The room reeled. The air felt different, thicker. Your body lighter. There was an air of danger to this boy with a trace of something else that you were equally drawn to. 

Energy. Was it possible that you could feel his energy too? 

Given you were in a state of mental narcosis, more or less the effect of his aura, Haechan gleaned you wouldn’t respond and instead approached you. It felt like you were jolted awake when his warm skin pressed to yours, his lips and breath ticking your neck. 

“Haechan,” the demon whispered, but it felt like the thrumming of the wind. “That’s the name I want you to say tonight.”

Heat wafted over you. You nodded, because you couldn’t say another word. As if an invisible hand was clasped around your throat. 

Haechan coiled an arm around your waist, forcing your back flush against his chest. “Tell me what you want,” he purred. Your thighs were bare and he snagged the opportunity to grope them, free hand leisurely rising higher. For now, they landed squarely at your ass. “So I can help you.”

You swallowed hard. Part of you was afraid, but the other was enticed by the danger. It always had been. Your voice lacked complete confidence. “I… wanted something new. The men here aren’t adequate. I needed something else.” 

“Oh?” Haechan cocked a brow and snickered. “Don’t worry about that tonight, baby. I’ll make you forget about everyone except me.” 

For a while, you had been at war with yourself, dithering between your options. But Haechan had tempted you. Whatever fight you had abandoned you as he brought you to your bed. 

Every alarm in your body was ringing, sirening to you that danger was near at hand, but the soft lulling of his voice abated your panic. The horns were blown, but you were too far gone to hear them. 

Haechan lay you at your backside and you swayed like a leaf, throat parched dry when you glimpsed into his eyes. They were red with lust, dark as blood. “Don’t look so scared,” he reproached, but it was of little substance given the smidgen of a smirk you’d seen on his lips. 

You were still tongue tied and at a loss for breath, never mind words. 

Haechan’s touch wasn’t gentle in the slightest as he came to tear your clothes away, shredding them layer by layer. His fingers skimmed against your body and your skin scorched where he touched you. 

Admittedly, it was somewhat true that you were frightened, but this was exactly what you needed to fill the empty chasm of excitement in your sex life. Between thrill and fear, the feeling that coursed through your veins was indistinguishable. 

You had cycled through mortals and been left unimpressed each time. There was bad, and then there was decent. You wanted neither. You wanted someone to go above and beyond. They tended to do only enough to barely get you there. If even. You’d seen it all; you wanted mind-blowing.

You shivered at the cool sensation of the air against naked skin, but it was immediately negated by Haechan’s body heat. Still, it wasn’t enough. You whimpered, “Touch me.” 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Haechan snickered. “Say please.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Please. I need you to touch me.” 

Satisfied, Haechan snatched your panties with a final tear and skirted a hand between your thighs. They were already open and parted, welcoming him keenly. 

It was only when you felt his slender fingers scissoring between your thighs did you notice how wet you were. The thought alone had been arousing. The sight of him even more. It was the weaving of those individual factors that had you gathering in his palms like water. 

Haechan shook his head with mirth. “Something tells me that you don’t get wet like this too often. Do you, baby?”

The answer to that was so embarrassingly obvious that you wanted to shrink until nothing remained of you. Your cheeks stung. “No. Not really.” The more you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you had been so aroused. 

If ever. 

“Aren’t you a little sinner,” Haechan said and chuckled to himself. Needless to say, he was amused. A pretty girl like you that could most likely have any guy she wanted calling on a demon because the men on earth can’t satisfy her? He was delighted. And almost humiliated on their behalf.

Like the cruel demon he was, he added, “It’s a little pathetic, don’t you think? Getting wet for me when you could easily find a human to fuck.” 

You whined, but ironically pulsed around his fingers. Those words were as true as they were humiliating. His fingers coaxed into you with a loud, wet squelch. 

Haechan eyed you with the intensity of a ravening werewolf. The likes of you were familiar - pretty girls that were too curious for their own good and went looking into entities where they had no business for pleasure. Never would you be the first or last, though regardless he had a job that he was more than glad to fulfill. 

Pleasure played out on your face. That said, you wanted more. You had always considered that maybe you were the problem. Maybe you were the one at fault because you were too greedy, too insatiable. Enough was a word of little subtance to you. 

But you noticed a sort of stark divergence here. With your previous conquests, you were unsatisfied because they took pleasuring you as if it were drudgery. This was more or less a job for Haechan, yet in spite of that, he seemed enlivened. 

Boys came a dime a dozen. Pleasure like this? It was a luxury far beyond your worth. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered. You were even willing to beg, if that was what it took. 

“Mm, no. Not yet,” Haechan said, having a good chuckle at the look of incredulity on your face at your expense. 

Never had you ever been turned down. It was always you that turned people away. Men that were bound to be disappointments in the sack lined up for you. They never hesitated to take advantage of your desperation. 

Haechan curled his fingers, sending every wall of the room reeling. Your pupils dilated when he leaned in, firmly holding your jaw to make you meet his stare. “Human boys don't build you up, do they? They just take what they want and leave. I'm going to take my time with you, baby.”

You doubted anyone had ever uttered anything like that to you before. 

His grip slackened. Not many words needed to be exchanged, the two of you content with the sounds of your soft moans and wet cunt filling the air. 

The glimmer of mischief on Haechan’s face turned pensive. “Can’t decide how I want to fuck you. What about you, pretty thing - how do you want to be fucked?”

You felt your cheeks warm in response to his question, though you had a contemplative answer. Any additional eye contact would have landed you in an early grave, but you wanted him to take control. Too many times had you had to take the lead because you chased your own pleasure. You were in dire need of relaxation. 

And if you were being honest, you'd let him have you any which way. 

“From behind,” you replied, clinging to the pretense of indifference. 

The mischief returned at the speed of light and Haechan taunted, “Scared to look me in the eyes?” 

You blurted, “Can you read my mind?”

“Yes.”

Every functioning gear within you halted and your body slammed on the brakes. Made worse by the serious look on his face. 

Then, Haechan erupted with laughter. “Sike.” You were relieved, though not amused. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m not psychic.” 

As if to apologize for the massive scare he’d only just now given you, Haechan swept in and pressed a brief yet unnaturally hypnotic kiss to your lips.

You felt like you could die at any given moment, but strangely enough, you liked it. 

It was game over when he interposed another finger between your walls, tall and slender. You were plagued by so many emotions all at once that you hardly realized how close you'd gotten in no time at all. Time expedited, but the minutes ticked slower.

You grabbed Haechan’s wrist, fighting for control of his movements, though not that he needed much guidance. It was an act of bad habit, you supposed, but Haechan smirked and let you do as you pleased. For now. 

“Haechan,” you whimpered, reminded of the name you were instructed to say. 

The man in question eyed you with a lustful awe. It was the first time you’d said his name and brother, was it a delightful noise. He hummed, “Close?”

You bobbed your head. No words needed to be said. The way your entire body responded to his touch as if it was owned by him was enough of an indication. 

In a mere instant, you felt empty and desolate, warmth fading into crisp ice without warning. You whimpered, turning to look at the culprit, but met with only a smug smile. 

No way in hell had this demon just edged you. 

Haechan beat you to a word and explained, “I want you to cum on my dick. Is that alright, princess?”

“Please, hurry,” was your desperate response. You had no protest. You simply needed to feel him as soon as possible. 

Haechan had a nice laugh at the sight of you trying to find his hands anew and fuck yourself against them, but retrieved them, bringing his fingers that were coated in your slick to his mouth and sucking them clean. Ironically, you tasted like heaven. 

You moaned when Haechan kissed you, his saliva palliative to the ache of the wait and wanting. It took your mind off of the throbbing between your sensitive thighs while he shredded what remained of his clothes. You were so wrapped in his dark magic, a pawn in his devilish game, but you didn’t care. He could destroy you until you were no longer flesh and bones and you'd say, “Thank you.” 

Haechan was ready with burning lust and he growled, “Hands and knees.” 

You didn’t hesitate to scramble into position, as if he'd punish you for wasting a second of time. Every voice in your mind was subdued and you only listened to the thudding sound of your racing pulse. It screamed even louder the closer Haechan’s body came into yours. 

A gasp tore out of you the moment you noticed his cock stretching you open, ceasing the long wait. It was accompanied by another hushed growl, Haechan’s hands finding purchase at your hips. He filled you nice and slow, the pace so agonizing that you were tempted to believe he was testing you for the sake of toying with you. 

“Don’t tease. Please,” you begged. “I want you to fuck me - hard.” 

Haechan cocked a brow, but made no protest. “Whatever my pretty girl wants.” 

You fought for breath when every inch was encased between your warm and wet walls, pulsing around his thick cock. Haechan penetrated you with a hiss at how you swathed around him so tightly. 

Your body came alive at the touch of the undead, responding to his body with voracity. Haechan had no intention of restraining himself, ramming his hips into yours vigorously. He set a brutal pace, enough to sate you and your unnatural urges. For now. Your flesh scorched with fever, broiling under his fingertips yet craving more of him, more of the singe. You were indescribably elated. 

Haechan seized you to a bruising extent and braced his teeth into your shoulder, effectively smothering a noise. You let out a cry of pain and pleasure, warped together to create some inexplicable sensation.

“So goddamn tight,” Haechan hissed, giving your ass a smack or three. Every thwack sent you clamping even tighter. “You like it rough?”

Between a thread of moans, you whimpered, “Yes.” But the way he drove his cock into you - hurried and ruthless - bundled your head into the mattress, your cries smothered by the pillows.

Haechan latched onto your hair, letting out a hollow, breathy laugh when you moaned. You were so eager to take him, never shying away from his actions.  

It was paranormal, like nothing you had ever felt before. You'd yet to discern the invisible shroud of mist that billowed in the air, the spine-chilling gale that swept over you and chaperoned his presence, but you loved it. It kept you on your toes and made you hold your breath. Something to this extent felt forbidden, like you were getting a taste of pleasure beyond human capacity. It was an ethereal and otherworldly type of pleasure.

You felt so light that you could topple over from one breath. 

Haechan’s eyes lingered on the way your whole body tremored at the impact of his thrusts, your ass meeting his cock with a slap and your breasts bouncing underneath you. Your body was gradually beginning to be coated in bruises and scratches, remnants of him that would linger even after he was long gone. 

You loved that he was rough, loved that he fucked you like there was no tomorrow without overdoing it. He only had one night to give you the best dick of your life and was successful so near in. 

Many had tried, but many had failed to fuck you like this. You knew you would be sad to see him go. 

“Oh my god,” you cried, your voice given an outfall for speech courtesy of the way Haechan lifted your head by your hair. You were melting into abyss. 

Haechan tugged at it a little rougher and demanded, “Tell me you love this.” 

“I love it. I love it so much,” you babbled. Your thoughts were revoked. Your body was on fire. You knew one thing and it was the feeling that lit you off and riled you up. 

The demon boy smiled. He wasn’t psychic, but he knew how you felt without saying. It was in how your body responsed to his, submitting to his every move. Your body betrayed you, presenting all of your emotions on a silver platter. 

Haechan discerned you were near your climax and leaned closer, teeth grazing over your shoulder when he growled, “You’re close.”

It wasn’t a question; you were close. That much was obvious. You could only bob your head, blabbering more hardly coherent sentences that he found amusing. 

You fisted the pillows and sheets for dear life, clinging to whatever you possibly could to anchor yourself. You felt like you had been put together solely to be destroyed afresh. As if his intention was to shatter you piece by piece. 

In that case, he was doing a damn good job. 

If possible, Haechan’s pace became even more merciless. “Let go,” he coaxed surprisingly gently, strumming you to climax with his fingers at your clit. Your body one-hundred percent intended to obey him, unable to defy its urges. 

You screamed with orgasm, burying your face into the pillows to smother your cries of pleasure. Tears welled in your eyes, rivulets trickling down your cheeks. Your body felt whole and empty all at once, overcome by an overwhelming sense of relief. Even after you came, you were still pulsing around his cock, eager to get him there. 

“Cum,” you begged, still waiting for him. “Please?” 

The desperacy in your voice practically finished Haechan then and there, and he grunted, “Fuck.” There was no way he could tell a pretty thing like you, “No.” 

Haechan found a bruising grip on your ass to anchor himself and his cock twitched with release inside you, his mouth parting with a series of moans and growls. You whimpered when he filled you, painting your walls with warm cum. Only then did your spent body slacken, collapsing exhaustedly against the sheets. 

Haechan flipped you on your back and kissed the corner of your lips. There was something abnormally soporific about the way he tasted, because your eyelids began to weigh more than your body altogether. 

“That’s it, baby. Go to sleep,” Haechan whispered, lulling you to sleep with his gentle voice. 

There was nothing to fight. Your body lost all strength when you climaxed, and you succumbed to sleep in a matter of mere seconds.

“Atta girl,” was the last thing you heard before pitch black darkness bled into your vision. 

When you roused from your sheets in the morning, Haechan was - as expected - no longer there, but traces of last night remained. Your bed was a mess, but you were in shambles, hair tangled on your bed and your body stained with tears, scratches and bruises.

Humorously, though somewhat questionably, only none of his semen was there. You wondered if demons could get humans pregnant. 

You were elated, but somewhat disappointed. From the beginning, you were aware that you couldn’t see him again, but after last night, you were desperate. There was no way in hell he could show you a good time to simply never see you again. It was unfair. 

The sound of your front door being pounded mercilessly startled you and you jumped out of bed, scrambling to cover your bare body and then rushed to the door.

When you opened the front door, Ten awaited you on the other side.

“You look like hell,” commented Ten offhandedly. You were always in wonder at how vampires could roam in the daylight, but allegedly, it was courtesy of potions and spell work. 

“I had a long night,” you deadpanned. 

Ten chortled and stepped inside. “I’m sure.”

You shut the door behind the pair of you and led him to your bedroom where your sheets were a disheveled mess on your bed. Last night had left the board on the floor to be forgotten. 

Disinterestedly, you plopped on your bed. There was a question billowing like fog in your brain and you feigned your most indifferent tone when you asked, “Will he want to come back?”

Ten thought nothing of your question and shrugged, leaning over to pick up the materials you'd abandoned. “Depends. Demons know these… arrangements get messy. Some care, some like messy. It's not rare. Just in case, I’ll have a witch friend of mine fix a spell to ward evil spirits off.”

“Oh,” you replied, playing innocent. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You dwelled over last night and the thought of Haechan coming back for seconds. You weren’t special, that you knew. Demons of his kind has a nonselect variety to choose from, but you knew only he could pleasure you like that again. 

Like he was catching on, Ten added, “It’s not a good idea to give him a chance to get attached. Some demons are bitter and possessive. The moment they want you to be theirs, they’ll hurt you and anyone else who gets in their way in response to a perceived betrayal.”

His warning spooked you, but not by much. You assured Ten that you understood and would leave that night behind you. After all, with all the measures taken, it was out of your hands. 

One night became several. 

In your defense, you weren’t the one that summoned him. It was because of your energy. He always claimed he could feel you. You frequently laid brooding in your home, yearning for him to return. 

And then, he appeared. You knew when Haechan was there and when he wasn't. It was his presence. You could feel it in your chest. You couldn’t explain it, but whenever he was in range, a gust of cool air would sweep over your shoulders and a thick gale would strike your lungs, rendering you breathless. 

Haechan materialized in that same shroud of mist, snickering to himself when your startled figure trembled. 

You gawked when you saw him in full glory. “How the hell…” 

“Your friend isn’t the only one who knows a sorcerer,” Haechan grinned smugly. “I felt your yearning - did you miss me?” 

Oh, did you. You had spent the past couple of weeks trying to get yourself off the way that he had, but to no avail. There was only one remedy for you and you were forbidden to have him. 

“A little,” you admitted. Though you had a feeling he could see right through you, it was a lot easier to say compared to admitting you thought of how his hands felt on your body every time you touched yourself. 

“I think you missed me a lot,” Haechan teased, stepping closer. Meanwhile, you were riveted in place, unable to move. You gasped when his hands browsed up your dress, targeting your damp panties. “Are you saying this isn’t for me?” 

You tensed and whined, “Haechan.”

Haechan gave you a smile, the same devilish one he always wore. He slipped your panties to the side and brushed his slender fingers against your dampening cunt. “Tell me you missed me.” 

“I missed you. I missed you a lot,” you confessed without hesitation. “I… I’ve been thinking about you all day.” 

He cocked a brow and crammed a pair of fingers inside you. “Yeah? You been thinking about me fucking that tight little pussy?”

Your knees were bucking. You needed him more than you’d ever needed anything before in your life. “Please,” you cried. “Please, please…” 

The demon silenced you with a kiss that made you feel so light, you almost tipped over. He caught you in his arms and carried you to your bedroom. 

When you were finished, Haechan fell heaving at your side and groaned, “You’re always so goddamn tight.”

You giggled. “You love me.” 

Like you had said some forbidden word, Haechan switched on a dime and gave you a fair warning. “That’s the snag, baby girl. I can’t love you.”

That you knew, but it stung to hear aloud. You were by no means in love with the demon you'd only fucked on two occasions, but hell, he seemed like the best option. There was a bit of venom in your tone when you responded, “But you fuck me.”

“Yes. Because that’s what I do. I have sex with you needy little humans and drain you to death of your energy. Then the next one comes along and the cycle repeats. I can’t love you because you’re going to die some day, babe. Even sooner the longer you mess around with me.” 

You blinked. He was a hell of a lot more forthright than you expected. Haechan was going to fuck you within an inch of your life. Literally. 

That was how the cycle began. Haechan informed you of a simpler way to summon him and he began to visit you more often, stealing your nights away. You never mentioned him to anyone. If Haechan didn’t kill you in time, Ten would undoubtedly burn you alive. 

You loved spending nights with Haechan, and over time, those moments together bled into days and mornings. More often than not, you would talk the day away, discussing everything under the sun and moon. 

Six years ago. Those events culminated in this later two-part dilemma you’d brought upon yourself. 

Weeks turned into months. You were growing weaker. The venom was slowly killing you, contaminating your blood far beyond human reclaim. 

Additionally, everything the two of you had said about loving each other had gone terribly south. The more you got to know Haechan, the deeper you fell. And watching you fall drastically ill under his influence tore an unfamiliar feeling from his cold heart - fear. Losing you cooled his already icy blood. 

Haechan heaved a breath, trying to remain calm. The two of you knew that this would happened, but goddamn, he would have never predicted that he of all people would fall in love. It was almost laughable. “I can immortalize you, but there’s a catch.”

You eyed him expectantly. “Like what?” 

“You’ll watch the people you love die,” Haechan said morosely. “Your entire life will fade with your mortality.”

You frowned. That was a given, but you loathed the thought of that day. No matter how far in the future it may have been. There were always immortal beings to befriend at your disposal, but the current mortal ones - your family - would pass on without you. 

But even more, you loathed the thought of them having to bury you. You would take the pain in sacrifice if it meant they never had to feel the empty ache of lost. 

“Okay.” 

Haechan shot you a look. “Okay, as in what?” 

With shaky hands, you blew out a breath and told him, “I’ll do it.” 

Haechan interlaced your fingers between his and pulled you close. The last thing he wanted was to lose you, but he also wanted you to do this completely out of your own free will. “Are you sure? This isn’t some reversible shit. No take backs.” 

“I would rather bury my family than have them bury me,” you whispered fiercely. It was all you had the strength to do. “I made this mess, now I have to fix it. I can’t let them be miserable over a stupid mistake I made. I won’t.” 

Instead of recoiling from your slight outburst, Haechan held you even firmer. It was a sensitive spot for the both of you. There were available alternatives, none long-term. This was by far your safest option. 

Death was not an option. 

“If this is what you want,” Haechan said, like he was giving you one final chance to reconsider your choices. But you were firm in your decision. This was the price that you had to pay. “Everything will be okay. Baby, I swear.” 

God, you wanted to believe him with everything you had, but you were terrified. For as long as you'd known him, Haechan had always been more calm and self-controlled than you ever were, but even now you could see cracks in his demeanor. He wanted to be strong for the both of you, knowing you would shatter the moment he did, but this had him rending at threat of rupture. 

Haechan lowered himself to your height to be eye-level with you and asked, “Can you get dressed?” 

You bobbed your head. You weren’t completely deprived of your vigor. Not yet, although you had been passing through the days on preservation potions and the like. They could sustain you temporarily, but not for very long. 

The demon boy you loved brought you to a secluded area in the woods, timing your errand perfectly. Before dusk was preferable. Evil creatures lurked in the wilderness, preying on vulnerable humans like you. Not all were fond of humans and vice versa.

And you were already ailing. 

There was a tiny cabin across a river, lying at its bank. According to Haechan, it was home of a wizard. 

“Your friend’s a wizard?” you had asked. 

Haechan nodded. “Basically. But Mark prefers being called a warlock. Apparently, wizard is an offensive term that’s only used in fairytales. I still call him Wiz, though.”

You gave him a tiny nod. Many if not most magical beings lived in areas isolated from humanity. There was long, unaccounted for history between the two races and you couldn’t blame them for any resentment. 

But it also presented the fair chance that he wouldn’t want to help you. 

Haechan opened the door to the cabin and you treaded behind him like he was safeguarding you. There was a man behind a cauldron that billowed with green smoke. 

You took a glance around. The cabin was dim, sunlight filtering through the blinds of a single window upstairs. Candles and lanterns burned, scattered elsewhere. The warlock spared you not a glance, engrossed in his brewing, though you noticed a crystal ball on the table, reflecting a perfect view that overlooked the bridge. 

It most likely had warned him someone was approaching. 

Haechan put on his cheesiest smile and greeted, “Sup, Wiz. Been working out lately?” 

Mark slammed on the brakes and bristled. “Hell no. Whatever you want - the answer is no.”

Your demon boyfriend frowned, walking beside his friend to give a slight nudge to his side. “C’mon, bestie. I didn’t even ask for anything.”

Mark didn’t waste a second. “I know. And every time you compliment me, it’s only because you want something.” Then, the warlock shifted his gaze and seemed to finally notice you. “Who’s the chick - new piece?” 

Haechan rubbed his neck. “Yeah, about that…”

“Haechan, hell the fuck no,” Mark interjected as soon as he put the pieces together. “You know you have to talk to Johnny about that.” 

“See, that’s the thing. Johnny will kill me. And I’m technically already dead,” Haechan joked, trying to ease the mood. 

You swallowed like you could gorge all of your burdens with one gulp. Part of you was ready to accept that death was inevitable and tinkering with your fate was deadly. As a spirit from the underworld, maybe you could meet the boy you loved again, but you’d fade into a distant memory to everyone else you loved. 

Mark removed his spectacles and massaged his temple before he sighed. “Do you love her?” 

“Yes.” It was instant. He didn’t even need to consider it. That made you smile. 

“Like, for real?” Mark pressed. Like he was in disbelief. “I can’t waste time and casting energy on a pretty girl you just want to keep around for a little longer.”

Patience slowly dimming, Haechan snapped, “When have I ever cared if they lived or died, Mark?” 

You came to clutch his arm, and Haechan softened, switching on a dime. Much to Mark’s surprise. Even he couldn’t deny that you seemed to have an effect on Haechan - a grip that no else had. 

Haechan took a deep breath. “Look, my bad. But she’s special. I don’t know how it happened, it just did. And it would be easier to do a cord-cutting spell and toss her away, but I don’t want that. I want her.” 

A strained moment of silence passed before Mark finally groaned, “Fine.”

“So?”

“So, I’ll do the spell,” Mark said stubbornly. 

It felt like a weight was lifted from your chest and you could breathe easier when those words left his mouth. You watched Haechan’s face twist with relief, and he whirled you into his arms, hauling you with a supernatural strength that made you squeal and giggle. “Fuck. I forgot you’re not yourself,” he said and placed you back on the ground. 

You shook your head and smiled. Then, Haechan turned back to Mark with open arms and smirked. “Come here.”

Mark grimaced. “Absolutely not. I’m warning you. Come any closer and I’ll get Phantom.”

“Phantom?” you repeated, blinking. 

Mark whistled, and suddenly you heard a low caw fill the air. Then, you saw a creature fly from the single window at the speed of light and finally come to a rest at Mark’s shoulder. 

It was a raven. 

“My familiar,” Mark explained proudly. “Every warlock - and witchtress - has one.” 

Ignoring the way the raven - Phantom - was staring down your soul, you gave a quick nod and asked, “So, we’re really okay?”

“Yes. I’ll work on a spell for you as soon as possible,” Mark replied.

Haechan smiled and swept you into a kiss, then Phantom immediately began to caw as if she was trying to wake the dead. 

Haechan snickered and put his arms between you both. She was very prone to attacking. “Ladies, ladies. No need to fight. There’s enough Haechan to go around.” 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. But you were happy. You still had Haechan, and you always would. Nothing would come between you. Death or Phantom. 

Five years ago. 

Now, you were alive and well. And not only you, but someone else. 

After hours on your feet, you had never been more relieved to sit down. Ten eventually came to accompany you, having a good laugh at the weariness prominent on your face at your expense. 

“Tired?” he asked. 

“Try exhausted. I’m ready to drop,” you drawled. 

Ten laughed, then shook his head and smiled faintly. “Tell me how it’s been exactly four years and I still can’t believe I’m a godfather?” 

“Please,” you chortled. “They’re growing up so fast. I can’t keep up.” 

You had discovered the answer to a previous thought. Demons could get humans pregnant. As it turned out, you also had to confess to Ten that you’d been sleeping with Haechan for longer than he'd thought. After all, the evidence had been growing in your belly for nine months. 

Not one child, but two. 

Ten gave you a tiny nudge. “Haechan really did a number on you.” 

Through the corner of your eye, you could see him approaching and joked, “Speak of the devil.”

Haechan plopped down beside you, head in your lap, and said, “I’ve never had to work for anything in my life before those two.” 

You and Ten giggled. “Get off me, you big baby,” you said lightheartedly. “Who has them?” 

“Your mother,” Haechan replied, not budging like a boulder. 

Or so he thought. You were both caught off guard when your two four-year-old twins eagerly came running after you, refusing to give their mommy and daddy a break. 

Ten came to the rescue and leapt up, exclaiming, “Who wants cake?” 

As expected, your two tiny twins turned around as soon as they came, shouting, “Me!” Gratefully, you mouthed, “thank you” to Ten, who led the little army away to dessert. 

Haechan climbed into the seat beside you, and said, “We made this.”

“We did,” you replied, beaming. “And I love every part of it. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Me neither,” Haechan said, pressing a kiss to your lips. Now that the coast was clear, a mischievous smile crept onto his lips. “So, I was thinking that once we put the kids to bed, we could have our own little party upstairs.”

God, that sounded like heaven to you right now. “Say no more.”

Haechan snickered and lifted you into his lap. You rested your head against his lap comfortably. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too,” you said, a smile tugging your lips.

Those three words summed up everything. There was so much you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him that you always wanted a family with him, that you wouldn’t have it any other way. That you knew in your heart that this was the way it was meant to be. But you settled for, I love you. And you settled because he already knew. 

“As much as we fuck, we should have expected twins.” 

Those words snapped you out of your train of thoughts and you stood to your feet. “Save it. We have a birthday party to celebrate.”

Haechan followed you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Yes, ma’am. Mind if we go hit the dance floor in celebration?”

“Not at all,” you told him. 

And it was easily the most magical moment of your life being twirled around in Haechan’s arms, the rest of your little family soon coming to join you both.

[dwonfilm]

Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 at this point) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Supernatural level violence, fluff towards the end.

Mentions: Bobby Singer, Sam Winchester, Crowley, Lucifer

Here’s Part V if you haven’t read.

Part VI:

Dean was bewildered, looking at Bobby with an expression that was all kinds of confused but also verged on the side of hope—though he’d refuse to admit it out loud. “You’re gonna help us.. what’s in it for you?” Sam questioned, just as confused as his brother. “What? I can’t simply want to help out?” Crowley quipped back despite everyone knowing it was a load of crap. That was given away by the expressions of both Winchesters. “Bobby, a word.” Dean spoke with a tone that was unamused but also cracking with bits of desperation. Bobby and the boys walked toward the kitchen, leaving Crowley to muse over the contents of Singer’s living room. Once all three were standing by the kitchen table, the eldest brother began to speak. “What the hell Bobby?!” Dean spoke, dragging his hand along his face. “Listen kid, I ain’t got time to sugarcoat this so I’m just gonna come out and say it. It’s been a year and a half, we’re runnin’ outta options here.” Bobby explained, causing Dean to physically wince and Sam to sigh. “I know it’s not ideal, but boys.. Crowley may be our last hope of getting [Y/N] outta hell. We’ve exhausted all the options..” Bobby was trying to be delicate as he spoke, Dean wincing again. It wasn’t hard to see that he was struggling. Sam spoke this time, seeing that his brother was teetering on the edge of losing it. “How do you know we can trust him, Bobby? He isn’t exactly the Queen of England.” Now it was the older man’s turn to sigh. “Don’t ya’ think I know that? If he crosses us, we gank the son of a bitch.” Singer was exhausted, the bags under his eyes a clear indication of lack of sleep. He’d been the one more often than not researching things, spells, ways to break someone out of hell. [Y/N] was like a daughter in his eyes, he’d made sure she was taken care of more often than not—just like he’d done with Sam and Dean.

“Tick tock ladies! You’re wasting time!” Crowley yelled from the living room, holding one of the family photos from Bobby’s shelf in his hand. It was from a couple years ago—both Sam and Dean, [Y/N] and Bobby. It was a happier memory, all four smiling towards the camera. Sam was the first of the three men in the other room to speak up. “Listen Dean, I think.. I think we do this. Bobby’s right—we don’t have many options left. If he screws us over, we make him pay for it but.. the longer we leave her down there-“ Dean’s eyes snapped up to Sam’s and the younger of the two immediately stopped talking. “You don’t think I know that?! You don’t think I’ve been kept awake at night thinking about what he’s doing to her.. what he’s making her do? I know first hand, okay. I just-..” Dean interrupts himself and it’s apparent he’s about to breakdown. “Listen boy, this may be the last shot we’ve got to bring her home.” Bobby spoke solemnly as he put his hand on Dean’s face. They stood there for a moment before the elder Winchester sighed. “Okay.” He said, looking at the floor and trying to keep any semblance of composure. “Okay.” Sam repeated. All three men stood there for a moment, mostly so Dean could pull himself together. It had been about five minutes before all three of the men filed back into the living room. Crowley was now seated on the couch, legs crossed and looking utterly bored. “Oh look, did the Brady Bunch finally come to a decision?” He asked, his accent strong on each word. Sam rolled his eyes and Dean just glared at the King of Hell. “What do you want—for helping us get her out?” Sam inquired, knowing there was something that Crowley wanted or needed from them. Before Crowley could speak, Sam added another part to his statement. “Tell the truth this time, we don’t have time to waste.” Crowley couldn’t help but to chuckle, his gaze moving towards all three of the men.

“Right now? Nothing. However in the future I’ll need assistance and who better to have an I.O.U. with than the bloody Winchesters?” He laughed again, and this brought a sense of unease between the brothers and Bobby too. “Vague. Of course.” Dean spoke, irritation bubbling in his tone. “Listen if you want to leave the broad to rot then by all means!” Crowley bit back and this caught Dean off guard. He tried to let the angry side be the side that came to the forefront but it wasn’t. Instead the sad part of him was what showed itself. “Don’t. Don’t you talk about her like that.” Dean’s voice was shaky, the emotion clear in his voice despite the attempt to conceal it. Sam shifted awkwardly on his feet, trying to move it along. “So—how are you gonna bust her out?” He asked, unsure if they needed to play a part in whatever was about to happen. Crowley stood up, straightening his black jacket. “Well, since it was an odd little kidnapping and she didn’t have to technically die.. there’s no need to dig up a body. Did you lot make some kind of grave for her regardless?” Crowley inquired, mostly looking at the elder Winchester. “I did. Why? What could you need from that?” Dean asked, not thrilled with her place being exposed to just anyone. “I don’t need anything sunshine. That’s where you’ll find her when I’m done. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a bird to free from a cage.” Once Crowley had finished his sentence, he vanished. Dean sighed, throwing his gun onto Bobby’s coffee table. “I’m gonna go to.. her place. I don’t know how long this little trip of his is gonna take but I need to just.. be alone. I’ll wait there.” Dean spoke, his eyes gazing down at the worn out wooden floor. “Alright. Take your gun, take one of those blades just in case. We don’t know whether that slimy bastard was telling the truth.” Bobby replied, leaving the room and heading towards the kitchen again. “Dean, I really think that I should go with you-“ Sam began. “No. Sammy, I know you’re worried about me. I know. I’ve just gotta clear my head. I’ll take my phone, my gun, the blade—everything. I’ll be okay.” Dean spoke, trying to reassure his younger brother. Sam wasn’t convinced but he knew better than to keep pushing. “Okay.” He replied, looking at his older brother with sympathy.

Meanwhile in hell..

[Y/N] wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, time simply didn’t exist in this place. She was exhausted, her body aching and loaded with scars. Lucifer knew exactly how to get to her, which wasn’t rocket science—for whatever timeframe she’d been imprisoned for, she was living the same few scenarios repeatedly. Right now, it was probably her least favorite one. She was in the woods, running, trying to move as fast as she could. Running as if her life depended on it. Because it did. It wasn’t exactly dark but it wasn’t light either, probably around sunset time. She couldn’t stop running even if she wanted to, because rational thought didn’t exist here. [Y/N] didn’t know she was in hell during these scenes of Lucifer’s crafting. All she knew was that these situations felt completely real. Every time. Occasionally she turned her head to look behind her, to see if what she was being chased by was still following her. Finally her feet stopped and suddenly they’d felt like they were cemented to the ground. [Y/N]’s lungs were burning and she wasn’t sure how long she’d been running. It felt like her bones had become cinder blocks and she was finding it difficult to even stand. Suddenly a twig snapped and she turned quickly to look in the direction it came from, but, then another snapped and it was in a complete opposite direction. “Well, well, well. Look who finally stopped running.” Her eyes went wide, watching as the entity that the voice belonged to emerged from the bushes. “Dean?” [Y/N] questioned, shock written on her face. “In the flesh sweetheart.” He replied, but something was.. off. She knew in her gut that something was wrong, from the tone of voice Dean was using and the way he was moving. “How did you know I was running? I mean, besides the obvious.. how did you know I’d be here?” She asked, though the pit forming in her stomach was giving her answer she didn’t like. “Oh, you don’t know?” He asked, everything about his tone sending uneasy chills throughout her body. “What? Dean, you’re scaring me. What’s going on..?” She questioned. Every instinct was telling her to run away, but in her heart she wanted to believe this was a mistake. [Y/N] wanted to believe that she was just scared from whatever was chasing after her and that was making her see things that weren’t there.

“What’s going on?” He asked, his green eyes dark and unreadable. He laughed dryly and she felt her hair stand up on end. “Dean..” she spoke, her [Y/E/C] eyes scanning his face for any sign of the man she knew and loved. He remained silent but took a step towards her, which caused her to step backwards. It was at this point that her heart began thumping against her chest. [Y/N] turned to walk away, but a hand firmly gripped her arm and stopped her in her tracks. “Where did you think you were going [Y/N/N]?” He asked, with the grip that he had on her arm getting firmer. She tried to pull her arm away from Dean, but that only made him hang on tighter. “I just.. ow, Dean you’re hurting me. Please.” She tried again to free herself but it just wouldn’t work. “Now now sweetheart, you’re tough. You can handle it.” Now she felt ill. There was no way this was her Dean, she didn’t know who this was or what this was but it wasn’t him. “What are you? You’re not Dean.” She stated plainly, her arm stinging with the pain of the hand holding it. “I’m not? That’s funny, been Dean all my life. My life that’s been dragged down by weak people.” Despite the fact that she could tell something was wrong, [Y/N] felt the sting of his words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She spoke, the tone of her voice betraying the strong front she was trying to keep. “Oh, I think you do. I can hear it in your voice. You know what a burden you’ve been to me.” Dean’s voice was stern, cold—she couldn’t deny that the words were getting to her heart. “I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t gonna work on me.” She replied, unable to keep her voice from breaking this time. “It doesn’t matter what your heart or your brain is trying to tell you. This is me, matter of fact this is me finally getting things off my chest. Look at me.” He demanded, despite her avoiding his gaze at all costs. If she looked into his eyes she knew she’d break down. This angered Dean and so he grabbed her face with his free hand and turned it toward him—just as she’d known would happen, tears welled up at the bottom of her eyes. “Oh, wow, look here! [Y/N] is crying. Again.” She cringed, he was so cold and she knew that something had to be wrong. There was no way he’d ever talk to her like this let alone grabbing her in this manner. She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. It was like she was living in some alternate reality. “Now you’ve got nothing to say hm? C’mon [Y/N/N] you never stopped running your trap any other time. Matter of fact I can’t think of a single time you’ve been lost for words.” He spat, which would’ve caused [Y/N] to recoil into her shell if he didn’t have his grip on her.

“You know, I had enough on my plate trying to babysit Sam. That’s my family. That’s my flesh and blood. You? Well, all you were was a good lay. I knew you’d have a hole in your heart after your old man kicked the bucket. I’ve never loved you, [Y/N]. I pitied you.” Dean spoke and that was the line that broke any resolve she had left. Sobs broke the silence from [Y/N] and this brought a cold laugh from Dean’s lips. “You’re pathetic. I don’t know how I’ve stomached you and your bullshit for so long.” He continued, she couldn’t speak. Not one thing could’ve ever pointed to this happening, at least not in her eyes. All she could do was sob. Now her chest was aching for an entirely different reason than before. Finally, Dean released his grip on both her face and her arm, but she didn’t run. She couldn’t. Another dry laugh was pulled from the man that stood in front of her and she just felt herself shrinking. “Luckily, all of my struggles end today.” He spoke, which obviously caught her attention. [Y/N] was trying so hard to speak, but it didn’t matter. Dean had turned around and buried an angel blade deep in her chest. [Y/E/C] eyes widened as they gazed into the green ones they’d once happily get lost within. There was no love to be found in Dean’s gaze, only disdain. However it wasn’t finished there—in an action of true hatred, the man she once called the love of her life was twisting the blade. This was it—she was dying today. If there was any hope in her, it was snuffed out when Dean had pulled the blade back out of her chest. Cool silver drenched in her blood, blood which was gushing from the open wound. “Goodbye [Y/N.]” He said, shoving her to the ground where she’d land on her back. Deep crimson quickly staining the dirt. She looked up at the sky, slowly blinking. As a hunter it was almost a guarantee that violent death was the way you’d go. She just never thought that violence would come from the most important person in her world.

“[Y/N]!” She heard someone calling her name, but she couldn’t move. “[Y/N]!” Again a voice was yelling her name, they sounded so far away and yet so close at the same time. Now her breathing was becoming shallow and she knew that her last few moments were winding down. “Goddammit wake the hell up [Y/N]!” She gasped. Eyes opening to see a bunch of stone around her—so she rubbed her eyes before blinking furiously. “Well good morning sunshine, so glad you could finish your bloody nap.” Crowley spoke, which had [Y/N] scrunch her nose up. “C-..Crowley? What.. what do you want-“ She attempted to ask but she was cut off almost immediately. “Listen we don’t have the time for this ‘explain yourself’ shit okay? We’ve gotta go.” Crowley spoke, sticking a key into a weird looking gate and walking inside. If he had any sense of morality, he’d feel bad for finding her in such shape. Bags under her eyes, scars over her body. “Get up, sunshine. We’ve got places to be.” He spoke, grabbing onto her arm and disappearing from the corner of hell.

[Y/N]’s “place” (grave).

Dean had been sitting there for a couple of hours. Just staring at the wooden ‘headstone’ he’d made for [Y/N] when Sam had suggested it would be good to have a place that she could rest. Of course, the difficult part of that—if you could call it difficult, was that there was no dead body. It felt a little silly at times, making things for a grave that didn’t even hold the woman he loved. Sam was right though, as much as he’d hate to admit it. It had become a place for Dean to find an odd sense of normalcy. It became a place where he could break down and get drunk and just.. miss her. While it was true that Dean did the drinking and the missing her whenever he went, it just felt better when he was here—for lack of a sensible term. It was here that he found a connection to her, he felt her presence surrounding him here somehow. Saddened and tired green eyes had been staring at the ‘grave’. Dean had decided to bury one outfit he deemed pretty enough to spend the rest of time wearing. Alongside that he’d handwritten a letter for [Y/N] that no one else had ever seen, so he placed that underneath the dress when he’d buried the makeshift coffin. “Please.. I need this to work. I just.. I can’t go on living without you, [Y/N/N]. Man I want to trust this but we’ve been through so much, we’ve tried so much to get you back. Sam and Bobby think this may be our last hope of saving you, sweetheart. I can’t face a world where it’s hopeless, I can’t believe in doing good for anyone when the best thing was stolen from this world.” He’d done a good job up until this moment of not crying. Everyone that knew Dean for all of five minutes knew or could tell he wasn’t one for crying. It was a sign of weakness, that’s what he was always taught. Emotions were never something he felt fully, always trying to shove them down and lock them up. It was something [Y/N] had helped him with in their relationship.

It was at that moment that a weird noise caught Dean’s attention. He blinked several times to rid his eyes of the excess tears and tried to remain on high alert. No one except for Sam and Bobby knew where this place was but that wasn’t enough. Everything that they’ve fought, the things they come up against, they had their ways of getting information. Again he heard something and so he slowly drew his weapon. No one would invade her space—no one. Realization finally hit and he put his gun down, running over to the grave and beginning to dig with his hands. “[Y/N]!” Dean yelled, feeling anxiety building up inside of him. He was throwing dirt like a madman, trying to get to her. Suddenly there was a hole and Dean could hear coughing. “Baby! Baby.. I got you.” He replied, words flying out a mile a minute. Now his digging was redirected to where the hole began, hands coming up from the dirt. Once the opening was big enough Dean abandoned the digging and grabbed onto her arms. “Hang on I’ve got you, [Y/N/N].” He said, pulling while she was pushing and once her head broke through the dirt she inhaled deeply. It took about a minute more, but finally he was able to pull her entirely free from the grave. [Y/N] took several deep breaths, Dean gave her the space to come to the realization that she was alive. Slowly but surely, she began to blink and rub at her eyes. Once she felt she was seeing clearly, her eyes settled on Dean. He was nervous and didn’t want to spook her or move too fast. She tried to speak but all that came out was a squeak. About to try again, Dean decided to soothe her and take a step closer. “Hey, baby.. hi it’s okay. That uh, that happened to me too. It was hard to speak at first but it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He was speaking softly. Tears were brimming her eyes as she finally started to realize what happened.

“Dean..” she croaked, voice still strained but not as badly as it was before. Now it was his turn to feel the tears welling up in his eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.” He spoke, taking another step towards where she was sitting in the dirt. “Am I..?” She asked, voice again straining. He took the opportunity to close the space between them, sitting in front of her on the ground. Green hues danced along every feature on her face, giving her the same butterflies she’d always had. Dean breathed softly, using his hand to gently tuck some of your tangled [Y/H/C] hair behind your ear. “You’re alive, baby. You’re here where you belong.” His voice was cracking due to the emotion he was feeling. Dean continued to stare into those [Y/E/C] eyes and every heartache he’d felt over the last year and a half seemed to vanish. “..tell me something only you’d know.” [Y/N] said, still fixated upon his beautiful green eyes. “Wha-“ Dean paused. There was a pit in the bottom of his stomach because he thought he knew why she was asking. It would hurt but he needed to know if his suspicions were right. “Lucifer made this one of the scenes in your head, didn’t he?” He asked, knowing that more than anything the devil himself loved a good psychological torture method. Slowly her gaze sunk to the dirt and that felt like a knife to his own heart. He figured Lucifer would use him to fuck with [Y/N] but hearing it.. he felt so heartbroken. “You have a little freckle on your hip bone, you love to sing in the shower but you refuse to believe me when I tell you it’s good. Your favorite thing to do was sit on the beach listening to the waves. You made me go with you the day of your father’s funeral when you needed to breathe.” Dean was prepared to keep talking but suddenly arms were flung around his shoulders and immediately his arms wrapped around her waist. [Y/N] began to sob, clinging to the love of her life like he could be ripped away at any moment. Luckily, Dean was doing the same thing. Together they sat there, wrapped into one another and crying—these were finally tears of joy.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I am so sorry about the long delay between chapters. My mental health was rocky and also I suffer from mild arthritis in both of my hands and any time I sat to try and write, I couldn’t for very long without my hands aching. Here it is though! I hope you love it and I’ll do my best to lessen the time between this and the next one. I appreciate all of the support and love on the story!

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @stillhere197 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @aylacavebear ✤ ٠ —– • ·

[pedge-page]

joel: ok so now it's 1:1, don't you think we need to have one more baby to see which side he/she'll be in?

(i won't forget preggo wife is continuously pregnant)

Joel would be at war debating if giving up the "perfect number" for family being 4 just to see who truly holds baby powers between the two of you. He just knows how much harder it is to get a table of 5 than a 4 seater.

You and Joel both debate on how to figure out with whos already in your party, and conveniently pan to Spoon, who licks her paws with little care to your conversations. Truthfully, Spoon is regarded as the honorary third child since she can teeter favoritism between Joel and Wifey, defend the girls to death but also seek out solitude from their craziness, and contains the only sane rational in the family fiascos.

-

What if Joel and wifey do the thing where they stand next to Spoon and then take off running in the opposite direction to see which one she'll run to first?

Ans then she just looks side to side before sighing and lying down.

So the last option is to release the ducks to feast on two bowls labeled for mom and dad, and whichever finishes all the peas first is the true winner.

And then you and he keep arguing the ducks left like a few dozen peas on the ground so it's inconclusive data.

[snowdice]

New Couch; Old Habits (Part of the Envisage Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Roman & Logan, Virgil & Logan, Virgil & Patton, Patton/Logan (background)

Characters: Roman, Logan, Virgil, Patton

Summary: Virgil's parents come to visit him in his new apartment.

Notes: Leg Injury, very brief allusions to torture, Superhero AU

This takes place after Best Laid Plans and is part of the Labeled Universe.

Roman couldn’t help but fidget on the landing between the second and third floor of his new apartment building. “Are you sure you don’t want…”

 “Attempt to carry me one more time Mr. Silvia, and I will throw you out of a window,” Mr. Dr. Sanders said. His tone was without heat, but Roman was certain he was serious. His body may not have fully recovered from being captured, but his powers certainly had. Roman was not interested in having a thrown down with Bluebird even on a day where Bluebird had his leg in a cast and was wobbling on crutches. Roman would probably still lose.

He had to restrain himself from reaching for the man as he teetered dangerously on his crutches while tackling the next step.

Mr. Dr. Sanders was not used to going up stairs with his crutches. Sure, he’d been taught how to do so in physical therapy and his and Dr. Patton’s house had a staircase, but Roman doubted he every actually walked up them. Today, however, they were in a semi-public place, so the man did not want to glide up the stairs like Dracula. He also wasn’t confident in using his powers in a non-obvious way to steady himself yet, so normal plebeian stair climbing with crutches was the only option. Or at least, it was the only option Mr. Dr. Sanders’ pride would let him take.

Roman swore he had heart palpitations every time Mr. Dr. Sander’s good leg left solid ground so he could swing forward supported only by the crutches.

Roman heard footsteps coming up the stairs behind him and winced, worried he was about to awkwardly meet one of his new neighbors, but when he glanced back, it was just Dr. Patton. Dr. Patton had gone to park the car and grab something for them all to eat for dinner. It had taken him a bit as the apartment was downtown with little parking, and he’d likely had to park the car on the university campus. Two bulging plastic bags swung on his arms as he came to a stop a few steps below them.

He seemed surprised to see them still on the stairs, but then shook his head with an eyeroll. “Sweetie,” he said. “I didn’t ask Roman to meet us downstairs so you could make him watch you climb two flights of stairs yourself.”

Mr. Dr. Sanders pursed his lips. He did not turn to look at Dr. Patton as he was too focused on the next step he needed to take. “I am perfectly capable of going up stairs on my own.”

As though to demonstrate, he swung for the next step, perhaps too quickly. He made it, but it was a close thing. Dr. Patton made a sound between a tsk and a scoff but didn’t argue seeing as he was only three stairs away from the top. He and Roman lingered on the stairs below Mr. Dr. Sanders as he finished proving himself.

“Alright,” Mr. Dr. Sanders said once firmly on the third floor. “Which is your apartment?”

“This way,” Roman said, walking around the man towards his apartment with his keys in hand. Virgil always insisted that Roman lock the door behind him even if one of them was still in the apartment or he only planned to be out for a moment. (He always said stepping out for a moment can end up lasting longer than expected and Roman hated that Virgil’s dad had just proven him correct.)

It took Roman a few tries to get the key to work as the lock stuck a bit, and he wasn’t used to opening it. By the time he managed to get the door open, Mr. and Dr. Sanders were beside him.

“What kind of surprise takes you half an hour to get it from downstairs?” Virgil asked as Roman swung open the door.

“A stubborn one,” Roman replied dryly, walking into their apartment.

Virgil looked up from his place on one of their two armchairs with a confused pinch to his brow, but then he saw his parents in the doorway. He blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and Roman knew it was not directed at Dr. Patton considering Dr. Patton had been here 5 days in the past week.

“While I fully acknowledge I was incapable of helping you move in last week, I still wished to see your new apartment,” Mr. Dr. Sanders replied. “We brought dinner, and Roman suggested we could watch a movie this evening.”

“He probably just wants to make sure we didn’t put our canned vegetables in the wrong cabinet,” Roman stage whispered with an eyeroll.

“I trust Virgil to know the correct way to organize,” Mr. Dr. Sanders replied, “so, if they do happen to be in the wrong places, I will know who is to blame.”

The small bit of banter gave Virgil time to collect himself from the surprise. “Uh,” he said, getting to his feet. “Come in, please. You should, er, sit, especially you.”

Mr. Dr. Sanders didn’t argue (he had to be exhausted at this point). He allowed Virgil to lead him by the arm to their couch.

Dr. Patton, meanwhile, did not sit. He set the bags of food down on the coffee table and made a beeline to the kitchen to grab plates and silverware.

“What’s this?” Virgil asked, glancing at the bags after plopping down on the couch next to Mr. Dr. Sanders.

“It’s from that pasta place we saw just opened down the street while moving you two in. I thought we could try it out and see if it’s your new favorite,” Dr. Patton answered from the kitchen.

“Do they have chicken parmesan?” Virgil asked. He’d already leaned forward to open one of the bags.

“Yes,” Dr. Patton said, amused as he re-entered the living room. “They do have chicken parmesan. It’s in the container at the bottom of that bag.”

“I’ll get drinks,” Roman offered. “We have a 2-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper and the juice Dr. Patton brought. I’ll bring those and some cups.”

“Thank you, Roman,” Dr. Patton said with a smile.

Virgil was busy dishing out a plate of ravioli and breadsticks for Mr. Dr. Sanders when Roman returned. Roman could tell by Mr. Dr. Sanders’ face that he wasn’t enthused about not being trusted to make his own plate, but he was indulging Virgil by allowing this anyway.

Dr. Patton had gotten double the amount of food needed for the 4 of them even considering Roman’s need for extra calories and Virgil’s willingness to gorge himself on pasta. So, there were a lot of leftovers to be packed away into Roman’s refrigerator once they were finished. Roman and Dr. Patton handled clean-up while Virgil and Mr. Dr. Sanders argued good naturedly over the movie choice.

“Thanks for inviting us,” Dr. Patton said in a low voice that was almost drowned out by the water he was running to rinse the plates. “I think it’s doing them both some good. More than you two coming over to see us even.”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. That’s all they spoke about it, turning to lighter subjects like Roman’s classes and Dr. Patton’s latest read.

Virgil and Mr. Dr. Sanders managed to settle on the movie Back to the Future eventually. Virgil had stacked pillows on the coffee table so Mr. Dr. Sanders could more comfortably sit with his leg elevated.

Only 10 minutes into the movie, Virgil had already fallen asleep against Mr. Dr. Sander’s shoulder. It was only 7:30pm (and Virgil usually stayed up past midnight), but it wasn’t that much of a surprise. Roman had found that man sleeping in much weirder places at much weirder times and they’d only lived together for a week.

What was surprising was when Roman glanced over near the end of the movie and found that Mr. Dr. Sanders had fallen asleep as well.

Roman and Dr. Patton discussed it in the kitchen about an hour after the movie had ended, and eventually decided to let them sleep. Dr. Patton had to go home and let Missy out but told Roman to call him if at any point Mr. Dr. Sanders woke up and needed to come home.

Before he left, he grabbed the purple blanket Virgil always favored and threw it over both of them.

Virgil and his father slept through the night like that until Dr. Patton arrived back at the apartment with breakfast and coffee the next morning.

Want to read more? Click below!

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

[stupidbeecandle]

heuurghhh omg im gonna dieeee

okay... made it to the second stage of the local shark tank competition AND emailed the judges to say that ableism will not be tolerated this time around. They seemed properly ashamed of the behavior of one judge prior. Its interesting what people will say up until someone points out "hey... that was kinda fucked up" and then you can see the awareness, embarassment, and touch of horror sink in because they weren't thinking beyond their experiences

I have a week to prepare for the stage show.  I should pick a funky song, maybe write a jingle thatl get stuck in their heads. Pity music isn't my art because its a good audience catcher vs "powerpoint about data". But I know how to hype up folks well enough. Prototype 1 is finished but I'd love to have two more varietals to show off different materials and pricing options and techniques for manufacturing... but I'm approved and I'm going up on that stage.  euuugh...

there are going to be such a small pool of fellow disabled and NDs that will reap the full benefits of this concept but knowing that I've designed it to also be interesting and novel for the NT and abled audience in the same way you see those as-seen-on-tv gadgets advertised to anyone. man... if I'd had this thing growing up I would have been saved a lot of actual trauma (this tool addresses a concept that's traumatic enough to be actually recognized in the DSM 5 as an example of big-T trauma)

My final thesis prep has been submitted and next week I begin the actual pilot project which, if my invention is accepted for funding can tie into the project.  I'm teetering back and forth between stress and eustress at everything that is happening all at once

[milesobrein]

Video I Highly Recommend Part 1

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Vf5MThSniiY

Please watch this you guys if you can. It was game changing for me, and heartbreaking to hear, but so, so necessary. I know I always say this, but if you can, please reblog this to any platform you can. This election’s not just the next few years, it could determine the fate of the entire world and our lives. Bernie pointed out that Trump believes that climate change is a “hoax” and he will try to take down every semblance of progress the US has made in regards to climate change. And the US is a leading economic power, and where it goes, other countries may follow, and that terrifies me. This video speaks about Harris’s policy on Gaza, and that though I do not agree with her actions and am greatly disappointed by this, Trump is STILL such a low bar, that Kamala is by far the better candidate for president. It greatly saddens me, that these are our only two options, but at least Kamala will honor the democratic process, and when the time comes, I think she, unlike Trump, will step down. That is exactly why we have to elect her into office. It’s the future of whatever democracy we have being put on the line. This video goes into depth explaing why it is absolutely atrocious the things Trump is planning on doing to Gaza, and with Kamala in office, she would be more susceptible to criticism than Trump who wants to lock up his political opponents to for disagreeing with him. It breaks my heart, seeing our country teetering so perilously on the edge between democracy, and fascism. Don’t get me wrong I never, ever thought that our country was great. How can it be, when it allows so many people to be unhoused, fucking police brutality to people of color, genocide in Gaza, health care inequalities that led my uncle to die rather than get the medication they need, the robbing of Native Nations from their land, not too mention all the laws coming into effect now, and all of the horrible things I didn’t name, but things that are so terrible, they make me certain that a God can’t be real, because what kind of God would allow shit like this to go through. But beside the point, I never thought this country was “great” in its past, and it disgusts my when people like Trump say the past was great and we want to go back to that, because our past was drenched with homophobia, racism and horrors (to name only a handful of things) but in-spite of all this, I also think this country has the potential to be one day Good. Because for all the bad people out there, America is filled with good people too, and there hearts beat as they hope for a different better country that serves all of us, and not just the few old white billionaires. For every homophobe, America has a brilliant strong queer person fighting back in their own quirky, but beautiful ways. For every racist, there are a sea of Anti Racists fighting back, whether that be Daveed Diggs with his Clipping album and movie Blindspotting or Martin Luther King Junior, and a million others in between.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

And yes Nagi and Reo would not have been bad! I know the E4 were on the volume of the first version I figured they’d switch it up this time ofc the double itoshi is a big opp move but yeah anyways just glad to see tabieita getting their moments LMAO wait you had a Kunigami stan era omg LMAOO what happened to the no ginger rule /j but yeah he’s chill I just don’t have any heavy investment in him

Justin bieberitis LMAOO YUKI the “my culture is not your costume” has me wheezing otoya would definitely break the fourth wall too it’s such a dumbass otoya vibey thing

I remember that scene of Reo losing his mind screaming at zantetsu it was actually so hilarious LMAOO I do love their silly little dynamic but Reo got roped into the L taking club LAMAOA

SHAJS OTOYA REPARATIONS yeah I guess he can’t be catching ALL the strays I definitely also forgot ampharos has a mega (probably didn’t help that I don’t think I ever really had/used on) I’m still salty that megas were never brought back or continued like they could’ve just expanded and added more megas in the future games instead of swapping up mechanics each gen….but WHAGEVER RRJHSJRH Karasu fr just being surrounded by electric types that can kick his ass LMFAOOO

LAZYTOWN BEING BLLK BORUTO this is too funny but SHSHS DW YOURE ALL GOOD yeah i didn’t realize tumblr sucked this much hopefully it fixes soon?? But also take all the time you need to respond LMAO

No serious young aiku….young aiku…….but alas the stubble exists guys if PxG can have that much hair gel why doesn’t Ubers have a razor…guys come one…..but I agree still in the oaeu bestie zone LMAOO I need him to be my wingman irl

BRO I KNEW IT ITS THAT ONE ARTIST im ngl their memes always have me teetering on conversion territory their art style also definitely evolved a bit since they last posted!!! I saw that and lowk I agree but let’s remain strong for now it’s not the time to fall….but FR we’re gonna be eating so well s2 im so excited to see the favs in action!! All the recent promo material has me losing it too bro THREE DAYS WE’RE SO CLOSE SHSHSKSNSJA you’ll be getting a lengthy ask in your inbox once it airs so you can trust that you’ll need to open it then LMAOO

OMG ANOTHER MIRA DRAWING I’m crying otoya would so say that also the fact that you write in cursive just makes it 10x better HAHAHAH but OOOOH hairstyles!!! Are you deciding between the two or are these two forms of Tullia that exist depending on scenario in pursuit? They both look CUTE THO

OOOOOOOH WAIT 1K EVENT REQ?? Very intrigued and very excited if it does come out by this week I fr will be so stocked on content between that and s2!! Actually wait either way it works because I forgot s2 will be weekly starting from this week (WAHOO) Also wait it HAS been awhile since I’ve been surprised LMAO “how long it ends up being” anytime you say that i know it’s gonna be on the heftier side /j

Also SPICY WHITE GOODBYE also spicy white what does that even mean I’m crying if he was drunk too you should’ve said yes and gaslit him into thinking you were speaking in irish

- Karasu anon

HAHHA yeah right when i started (like in the first couple of eps) i liked kunigami!! ig i was really determined from the beginning not to like isagi…in my defense before the match against team v my options were isagi, bachira, chigiri, the rest of team z who are lowkey irrelevant, niko who actually is rather pretty but is just a bit too little-brother-coded to be attractive, and barou but specifically barou in his UGLIEST era 😭 kunigami was the best in a bad lot SDLKFJ also in that time he was far and away the most talented of team z (esp pre-chigiri-awakening) so there was that aspect…as SOON as nagi showed up though i was like 😍 and never looked back (that’s a lie i actually didn’t think i was going to like nagi at first i was so determined to wait for rin but then i realized i was lowkey giggling at some of nagi’s scenes and rewinding to watch his goals again and shit and that’s when i was like oh…)

JUSTIN BIEBERITIS it’s fr spreading!! LMAOAO no poor yuki i feel like i shouldn’t bully him sm his illness is even worse in pursuit because he was supposed to be an elite four member (hence why chris prince is his mentor) but he was banned from proper competitive battling because the stress made his condition worse 😓 that’s why his team is crazy strong and lowkey not aesthetic-maxed?? like you would think the man would have a milotic or an altaria or some other such elegant pokémon but his starter is a breloom and his team has such stunners as steelix, noivern, and alakazam but it’s because he was meant to beat aspiring trainers’ asses 😭 he just switched to contests because they were less stressful on his eyes and body due to having more of a focus on artistry than sheer-force victory…that’s why he ends up being a good mentor for reader and co he really teaches them how to not waste any energy and be super efficient in every move instead of wasting time and effort!! he’s super cool actually i really do like him unfortunately he’s SOO easy to slander it’s insane 😩 otoya definitely looks into the camera like he’s in the office unironically while in blue lock HAHAH can you imagine one of his teammates does smth stupid and he just stares into ego’s soul with the most unamused expression ever…it probably starts as a joke w karasu and then they both start doing it without thinking because it’s like a habit

YESSS THAT’S THE ONE pls it has me cackling every time reo looks so silly and zantetsu is so miffed meanwhile nagi just looks so concerned in the background bro was fr met with a completely different side of reo than he was used to 😭 reo being roped into the taking l’s club because he was linked up with king of losers tabito karasu #real honestly i think a little bit of humbling is good for him…bonus points if tullia’s watching the battle and reo’s like “this one’s for you 😁😉🫵🏻” before proceeding to get his shit rocked by the biggest idiots on the planet KSDJHFSLKD the negative aura is unmatched it’s only salvaged because otoya is tullia’s number one opp so she’s still team reo and karasu even though they lost

I LOVED MEGAS imo they were the best gimmick because they were the first and truly felt original/well thought out?? like there was lore behind the megas and the designs were different and pretty instead of just being “pikachu…but BIG” it’s the same with the alolan forms like it was cool the first time but why does every region have its own forms now…anyways yeah i’ve never been a huge ampharos user (as in i’ve never used it) so i always forget it has a mega but it does!! it’s funny actually when i’m looking at it which characters can and can’t mega 🧐 of the main-ish (aka relevant to us) characters nagi, chigiri, and tullia all don’t have any pokémon with mega evolved forms!! meanwhile reo has gallade + mawile, reader has houndoom + gyarados, karasu has pidgeot + garchomp + lucario (i literally forgot about lucario until i checked my notion page w everyone’s teams lowkey this is a win for the karasu girlies??? bro is eating), otoya has ampharos + altaria, barou has houndoom + sharpedo, isagi has charizard, and even hiori has metagross 😭 ofc these are only options definitely not all of these characters will get megas let alone all of the pokémon for each character but it’s def fun to look at!! also wait it would be really funny if otoya can only evolve his altaria since mega altaria is even more fluffy cutesy “girly” as well as being a dragon FAIRY type so that would def make bro crash out just a bit (the coolness of mega evolution does ease the sting a bit though)

YOUNG AIKUUUU MY BELOVED no actually that’s so real should’ve switched rin and barou just so all of the hair product warriors (barou karasu shidou zantetsu) could’ve been on one team SDKLJFH lowkey i would love to see more zantetsu and barou interactions i think they’re so funny together 😭 fr though i know barou def has a spare razor lying around somewhere he’s too neat to NOT so aiku has zero excuse…okay wait actually can i confess that BAROU with the stubble in that one scene where he’s a depressed dilf was SO FINE SDLKFJHSDKLJ FHSL BROOOOO I LOST IT I NEED HIM TO FAIL AT SOCCER AND LIVE THAT LIFESTYLE (WITH ME)

hehehe barou just does it better SORRY aiku anyways yeah i need him to wingman for me HEAVY…IDEC WHO bro can set me up with barou karasu yukimiya nagi reo…i guess sae…otoya (i can actually fix him i know it) karasu karasu did i mention karasu??? karasu—

their art style is sooo pretty but agreed they post rlly infrequently (whenever they do it ends up on my fyp) and they always have a slightly different art style every time!! it’s cool to see the development in real time hehe anyways yeah trust i won’t fall!! although the character i’m writing a request for is pissing me off because they’re being too agreeable to it which is making me…not CONVERT but appreciate them yk (ig that’s process of elimination that i’m not writing a karasu rec but considering how the rest of the characters aren’t miraverse golden standard favs it doesn’t narrow it down too much)

SLKDJFHSD PLEASE i was between writing that or “‘humane euthanasia is the only option’ — eita otoya” for it HAHAHAH yeah i always write in cursive and i think it does add a layer of humor to things because it’s the most ridiculous nonsense written in my pretty handwriting LMAOO 😭 for her hair i was thinking it’ll be scenario dependent!! so like the base hairstyle is the one of her hair down but she ties it back in the messy bun (so #y/n of her) when she’s doing more gross or intensive stuff if that makes sense?? so like the bun is more of a rare find (kinda like no jacket rolled up sleeves karasu) but still present which is why i drew both hehe

1K EVENT REQ YESSSS i’m actually enjoying myself writing it idk if it quite fits with what the requester had in mind but eh wtvr i’m having fun so it’s okay!! it will all end up for the best…yeah unfortunately i do sense it getting to be to the heftier side we’re past 2k words and haven’t met the love interest yet soooo anyways…YESSS WEEKLY S2 I’M SO HYPEEE CAN’T WAIT TO CHAT ABOUT IT AND WATCH IT AND CONSUME EDITS NONSTOP!!

SPICY WHITE HAD ME HOWLINGGGG actually funny enough that was the same night as the coke dude that wicked game was based on as well as the linkedin guy SLDKFHSDLKFJDS anyways apparently spicy white is white but not like white anglo saxon protestant white??? so basically mediterranean and sometimes slavic i think…look i know i look really racially ambiguous and get mistaken for a lot of things (i’ve had people make fun of my parents to my face for not teaching me spanish since they think i’m latina and i have to be like “well they don’t know it either i’m actually indian”, almost everyone including other indian people think i’m either irani or afghani, and when i’m in europe i’m mistaken for spanish or italian quite frequently) so i wouldn’t have been as flabbergasted if he had just gone straight to greek (that was his second guess) but IRISH???? first of all irish is the opposite of spicy white regardless second of all i may be pale by indian/poc standards but irish people are on another level of whiteness typically…like NO ONE ELSE has EVER looked at me and been like “yup she’s irish” as you can tell that was just an insane night all around truly everything was happening

[findroleplay]

Oh, look! It's another boyfood plot dump for Hellaverse! Please, 21+ is required, but 25+ is preferred. I still can't reply to likes or reactions, so if you're interested, add me directly on discord at: boyfood. I'm begging with the biggest pleading emoji for you guys to please say more than, "hey," when you reach out! Tell me a little about yourself as a roleplayer; I'm looking for confident and compatible partners who know what they want and aren't afraid to squeal with me over their interests too when it comes to plotting. Let's absolutely obliterate our muses with feels, drama, and a generous serving of angst, with a side of fluff for dinner. Lmao, seriously, hit me up if you like having your muses fucked up. 💗

🎭Helluva Boss I'd like to write Fizzarolli.

one: Quitting Mammon initially seemed like the best idea ever, that is until his newfound freedom and lack of purpose prove to be detrimental to his relationship. Not to mention the constant onslaught of lawsuits draining Fizzarolli of a pretty significant chunk of his earnings over the years. Teetering on new lows, Fizz turns up on the doorstep of the only other person he can trust. Blitzø. But it's been years since they've reliably been around one another, and with their rekindled friendship still being so fresh, it's uncertain if this will be another not great idea. And the kicker? It's either curling up on the sofa with Blitzø, or a pallet on the living room floor.

two: Fizzarolli is a porn star, more specifically, Asmodeus' highest earner. He's making waves, the biggest imp in the business and still climbing. It's why Asmodeus is reluctant to tell him about a recent card game with his biggest production rival, Valentino. He doesn't lose too much, but there's a pretty big obligation on the line that Fizzarolli is expected to fill. "Nothing too crazy, you just have to film a movie for him." Valentino, much to his disgust, seems intent on humiliating Asmodeus and his biggest star by having him record with a random imp off the streets. His sadistic glee only grows when he realizes there's a history between them and a negative one at that. Unfortunately, Blitzø needs the money so saying no isn't really an option. Besides, it's just two weeks of shooting together, two very... long... weeks...

three: Omegaverse! Except, omegas are at the top of the hierarchy, praised and valued for their ability to give birth to all three castes. More importantly, they're the only caste that can give birth to alphas - a dying breed after an uprising against their oppressive system. One day, Fizzarolli comes to Blitzø with tears in his eyes and slick on his fingertips. He presents early as an omega, which likely means if Blitzø doesn't present as an omega as well, they'll probably be separated. While I'm open to this being relatively NSFW, I'm pretty adamant about heavily investing time in exploring the impact of this revelation and how it affects their friendship. I'd also really enjoy switch dynamics - even If there's a lean - when it comes to NSFW for this plot. It's not required or mandatory, I just personally enjoy it and the potential to bitch an alpha. That'd be nice. I have so many omegaverse headcanons, and I'd love anyone interested in helping me flesh out a world for it. Potential for: 🍪but it isn't required.

four: If Blitzø had known that he'd end up in a mental asylum fresh out of foster care, he probably would have tried harder with that last family... The thing is, he's not crazy. He really is best friends with an imp that visits him from Hell, he didn't kill his dormmate because he was flunking out of college, and he definitely doesn't want to know what that forked tongue feels like wrapped around his co-- Too much? Whatever, the point is none of that stuff is true! Too bad it's so fucking hard to prove it. I'm also open to reversing the roles of the characters and having Fizzarolli be the one in the asylum.

five: Blitzø and Fizzarolli are lifelong best friends and young, broke roommates just barely making rent. On the hottest day of summer, the air conditioner dies a pretty traumatic death. One filled with sparking and the underlying threat of combustion. They stick to their sofa, dripping sweat and bitterly tossing back-and-forth ideas to make some quick money. OnlyFans comes up more than a few times, only when it comes to shooting, they're incredibly awkward looking. For one, Fizzarolli keeps trying to make eye contact and Blitzø is pretty sure he'll die if they do. Then there's the whole kissing thing - they can't seem to figure out if they want to include it or not, and it leads to a lot of headbutting. Surprisingly enough, it takes off in a way that makes them consider doing it again. The trade-off? The confusing feelings that keep welling up. I'd love it if Blitzø's prior feelings were ambiguous, whether he likes him or not. I enjoy a good slow romance burn.

So that was a lot! Thanks if you stayed with me for the whole thing, and hopefully you saw something interesting! A few last things! I'm more than open to people bringing their own plots! And while I pretty clearly have a soft spot for Blitzø and Fizzarolli, I'm honestly open to writing other Fizzarolli ships. Gimmie an Ozzie, a Striker, shit, even a super cringy ass goofball loser like Chaz(or, like, idk, mob boss Crimson investing money in an up and coming star?). Let's figure something out together! Toss me your favorite OCs, no need to double! And remember, I can't respond to likes, so add me directly on discord: boyfood. Just make sure you tell me who you are or a little about yourself as a roleplayer, or, fuck, even what you're looking for!

-

[honourablejester]

I do like it that the system isn't 'good vs evil' it's 'high chaos vs low chaos'. Because what you do snowballs. Mostly realistically, yes, but also a bit metaphysically too. You can see the effects of low chaos as early as the Abbey, when all you've done so far is decide how violently you wanted to carve your way out of prison. The plague infected Abbey guard admits his illness in low chaos, and hides it in high chaos. It's a little early for your actions to have affected that, and it's not the sort of consequence that one-to-ones with your actions, the way more corpses = more plague does. So there's a bit of a metaphysical thing happening too, mercy and responsibility rippling on a slightly non-literal level, but it works. Especially given the setting, the void and the dreams. Ideas ripple, as much as actions. Dunwall is sick, morally and literally, and poised at a tipping point. Your actions and your ideals ripple outward, because Dunwall is teetering so precariously that anything at all will topple it one way or another. Your choice is, do you want to keep it mostly intact, and affect change the slow way? Or do you want to tear everything down, violently put the diseased system out of its misery, and see what's able to start again? With some in between. Perhaps you'd like to slaughter your opponents and put your now-tyrannical daughter back on the throne either, in a median between the two (I do like the differences between the high chaos ending where you save Emily, and the one where you don't). The end states of the game are, the system mostly restored towards an ideal, the system more darkly restored under a new tyrant, or the system completely torn down.

The non-lethal options are also fascinating, morally speaking. Because they're not better. At all. In at least one case, I believe the non-lethal option to be fully worse. So there's the question of what is mercy. Is death always the least moral option? You can kill select people, and still get the non-tyrannical or explosive ending, because it's possible that a few deaths are still required, and that's up to your conscience to decide how you stand on it. Or you can kill no one, and instead sell people to slavery, mutilation and rape, and decide how your conscience stands on that. But you do have to get rid of some people, regardless. Which is morally interesting in itself. If you want to fix this city, for given values of 'fix', you are required to kill or otherwise violently remove from play at least some people. Despite the achievement, there are no clean hands in this game. You will have to do horrible things, just as horrible things were done to you and to everyone around you. It's just up to you to weigh who and how much and to what end.

Which might be part of why it's not 'good vs evil'. Because you can't ever manage fully 'good', though you try your damnedest. All you can manage is to limit the chaos.

It's such a toothy game. You can do things the slow, painstaking, painful way, limit your effect, try to hold things as steady as you can, while still having to bloody your hands one way or the other. Or you can fully let rip and just tear it down, and leave whoever survives to make their own way in the aftermath.

the thing about the dishonored morality system people don’t understand is that it’s actually the only one that makes sense regarding morality in killing people

[five-bi-five-mind]

Could you please make a fic of Wanda and reader. Vision kisses Wanda even though they are broken up. Reader punches Vision and Wanda proves to reader she only loves the reader. Smut at the end bd happy ending please

I'm Yours Too

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

Words: 9.5k+

Genre: Angst & Smut

Summary: Vision doesn't take the sight of you on his ex girlfriend's arm very well. What was supposed to be a night of Wanda proudly showing off her lovely girlfriend turned into a night that almost broke the both of you. But Wanda isn't one to let you get away so easily.

Warnings: Toxic!Wanda, jealous!Wanda, possessive!Wanda, alcohol use, mentions of cheating but not really (it's a misunderstanding), top!Wanda, bottom!Reader, fingering, strap on use (all r receiving), magic strap, also cum strap with a tiny bit of a breeding kink...

A/N: This doesn't 100% follow your prompt, anon, but it's pretty darn close! Also ha... don't know what came over me with the smut oops. I just really love writing toxic Wanda railing reader I guess....

Agreeing to go to this party was a big mistake. At least that’s what you were beginning to believe as the minutes ticked by and you were still sitting alone at the bar, two and a half drinks down when you thought you’d only have one. But then again, you also thought your girlfriend wouldn’t ditch you for so long to go god knows where. 

Crowds weren’t your thing either and Wanda knew that. So when she got invited to Tony’s extravagant party she knew she would have to do some convincing. Luckily for her, she also knew exactly how to get you to agree. Right now, as you sat nervously in a sea of party goers, downing your third drink, you were really regretting how easily you folded.

Your fingers tapped on the bar counter as you considered ordering a fourth since Wanda was still nowhere in sight. The alcohol would calm your nerves hopefully, but the rational side of your brain told you to slow it down. You weren’t drunk, but you definitely weren’t sober either. It might be best to keep yourself as level as you can be while teetering that line between tipsy and drunk. At least until you find Wanda.

It didn’t help that, not only had Wanda ditched you, but the moment you two got there she was preoccupied with whoever was blowing up her phone. You assumed that was why she told you she needed a moment and made her way through the crowd without you. What also added to your frustration was that you couldn’t find a single soul you knew. Natasha had graciously thought to text you to tell you she would be there but was running late. At this point, between waiting for your girlfriend and waiting for your best friend for what you think is about thirty minutes, your patience was wearing thin. 

You decided to give it just five more minutes. If you didn’t see Wanda return to your side or Natasha to swoop in and rescue you, then you’d go hunt down your girlfriend. The only thing was now you couldn’t decide if you wanted to drag her back to the bar and then freely let yourself get drunk with her watchful eye on you as you let go of your anxiety or drag her ass back home and into the comfort and safety of your very cozy bed. You were leaning towards the second option.

No matter how many times you checked your phone, it didn’t change the fact that you had no new notifications. Not from Wanda, not from Nat, not from a single person you thought might be at that party. No, the only notification you got was the warning that your phone battery hit 10%. With a heavy sigh, you decided that was the sign to go find someone you knew. Preferably your missing girlfriend, who you were now quite frustrated with.

Pushing yourself off the bar, your eyes set their sights on the exit to the main hall of the party. You’d scour the entire place if you needed to so you could find your girlfriend and hopefully convince her to get the hell out of here. You’d already been scanning the crowd in the main part of the event and you’d definitely caught at least a glimpse of her red hair through the crowd, but alas she was nowhere insight.

With gusto, you pushed through the crowd until you reached the exit of the crowded room and was just met with a few scattered groups of people here and there in the halls leading up to the main event space. You took a deep breath, you might not have been outside necessarily, but at least you were away from all the excitement and the reduced noise was refreshing to you. Quickly, but still carefully as you scanned your surroundings, you made your way through the rest of the building. Still no Wanda. You were getting farther and farther away from the party and deeper and deeper into the more secluded parts of the convention center. Tony really picked a maze to rent out, you thought as you chose random halls to turn and search through.

All the while, you were checking your phone. You had sent more than a few texts to Wanda, each conveying a little more of your frustration than the last. None of those messages went answered, let alone read. What was worse was there was still no sign of Nat. She promised to text you the moment she arrived and you at least trusted her to keep her word, so you knew you at least wouldn’t run into her in these halls. 

After a few more turns, you realized the sound of the party’s booming music was now nothing more than a dull hum. You were probably on the complete opposite side of the building. Your hopes in finding Wanda were starting to diminish and for a second you seriously contemplated just calling a car to take you home. But as if by some miracle you finally heard her voice echo down the hall. 

Your pace picked up as you followed the sound of her voice. Finally, you could get the hell out of this place. Being left at the party for so long had already made you ready to leave, but having to search through an unfamiliar place for so long meant you weren’t going to budge on that decision. Wanda was going to take you home and there wasn’t going to be any argument about it. 

“Wanda, where did you go?” You said as you caught a glimpse of her when rounding the corner of the hall. “I’ve been looking all over for-“ You cut yourself off when she was fully in view. Only she wasn’t alone. Stopping dead in your tracks the scene before you felt like a gut punch. There she was, Wanda, the woman you love, wrapped in the arms of the man she used to be with. Your world felt like it shattered in two seconds.

Neither heard you, but Vision was the first to see you. He pulled from Wanda’s lips to lock eyes with you. His face was devoid of any emotion when he took in your shocked expression. As if he didn’t realize he was taking away the one person you love most in this world. As if what you caught him doing was nothing to him.  

Wanda’s reaction was the exact opposite of Visions when their kiss broke, but you didn’t notice. Your eyes locked on the man who was currently all over your girlfriend. You couldn’t begin to look at Wanda, but if you did you would’ve noticed the way her body was absolutely ridged in Vision’s embrace. The moment Wanda realized Vision had pulled away, her hands pressed hard to his chest and she gave a powerful shove. His arms fell from her, but when he didn’t even acknowledge her fuming in front of him, she turned to see where he was staring off to. 

And then her heart stopped. The anger Wanda showed towards Vision immediately transformed into concern as her eyes locked onto your face. Wanda knew what this looked like, and it wasn’t good. 

Wanda didn’t have to read your mind to understand exactly what you thought this whole ordeal was, she could see it written all over your face. The problem is, it really wasn’t what it looked like. 

Wanda had been getting bombarded with messages from Vision from the very minute she arrived with you at Tony’s party. He caught a glimpse of her with you on his arm and it sparked something in him to decide tonight was a night to make a stand. After messages flooded in, Wanda’s mood was souring when she was really hoping to enjoy this night and show you off to everyone as hers and hers alone. Only, she couldn’t do that when she was getting increasingly pissed off with Vision and she was growing concerned he’d make a scene. So, she gave in and abandoned you at the bar to go have what was supposed to be a brief chat. She knew you’d be frustrated by this, but she had hoped she’d be back quick enough to make it up to you. Wanda was incredibly wrong. 

Vision and Wanda argued back and forth for well over half an hour. Wanda was clearly standing her ground, but unfortunately so was Vision. When Wanda felt more and more buzzes from her phone as the arguing went on she knew when she returned to your side you’d be pretty angry with her and then there went her evening of parading her girlfriend around proudly for the world to see. So, since the argument with Vision was getting nowhere Wanda tried to cut him off and just walk away. But “tried” is the key word here, because before she knew it he caught her off guard.

Vision was never one to make bold moves. When Wanda was with him, he was always incredibly predictable. It was part of the reason they didn’t work. He was just… boring. There was no spark. But tonight, Vision was a little less predictable than Wanda expected. Before she could turn she found herself pulled back and into his chest and within a blink suddenly she found his cold lips pressed to hers. Immediately, she wanted to retch. The feeling of anyone touching her in any kind of way felt wrong to her, when she found you she knew you were the one she’d been searching for. To even think about being with anyone other than you in any sort of intimate way made her skin crawl, so to have Vision’s lips pressed against hers felt like the most unnatural thing in the world. It made her want to rip his lips off, if she was being totally honest. 

Admittedly, it took her a moment to get over the shock of his bold, but incredibly uncalled for actions, but when she did register exactly what was happening that was when the rage set in. That was also, unfortunately, a moment after you saw the scene as it unfolded. 

So now, here all three of you were. Vision still oblivious to the rage he caused in Wanda. Wanda was looking at you with a mixture of panic and sympathy, knowing exactly what you must be thinking right now. And then there was you, still just standing there utterly frozen.  

Your eyes finally drifted over to where Wanda stood and the look she was giving you made your stomach painfully turn. Wanda’s eyes were glued to you and all you could see in them was extreme guilt. Did she feel guilty she got caught? Did she feel guilty she just witnessed your heart break in front of her? Whatever that guilt was, it suddenly turned your shock into pure anger.  

Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find the right words to respond to the shit show in front of you, but then you realized there were none. You wanted to scream and curse and, honestly, knock Vision’s lights out if you even thought that was possible. However, you knew none of that was productive and you also knew if you started screaming you’d also start crying and you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of that. You didn’t want to break yet, not in front of Wanda and especially not in front of Vision.

So, you start to turn around. Your current plan: cut and run. This place is so much of a fucking maze, you were sure you could lose Wanda while you waited for a car to come. 

Except, you should’ve known Wanda was faster than you, so when you started to speed walk away she left Vision in the dust to follow right on your heel.

“Wait, fuck, just wait!” Wanda yelled from behind you. You shook your head, there was no way you wanted to hear her out. Your blood was boiling and you could already tell you were two seconds away from losing your cool. You just had to get a fucking car and then you could lose it in the comfort of your own home. “Come on, where are you even going?” 

“Away from you,” You said over your shoulder. It was a miracle you were even able to dodge bumping into anyone as you were struggling to escape Wanda and call an Uber at the same time. There were a lot of factors that were making it way too difficult for you to escape a determined Wanda who was aggressively following you. One of the factors was that your hands were shaking so badly you could barely type what you needed to type in order to pick the right destination to get home and another factor was that your phone somehow ended up going from 10% to 1% in the time it took for you to find Wanda in the first place. Right before you were about to hit the button in the app to order your escape car, your screen went black and you stopped in your tracks. 

“Fuck!” You howled, half tempted to throw your phone across the hall. 

“Let me take you home,” Wanda stopped right behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We can talk.”

You jerked away from her touch as if it burned and when you spun around, seeing that look of guilt again pissed you off even further. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“(Y/N), just come on, let's go to the car.” Wanda’s voice was level, calm even. She was doing her best to be patient and understanding, because she knew what you must be thinking. She would’ve been furious too if the positions were switched. However, the more calm she sounded the more you thought she was being condescending, even if there was no indication of that in her tone. You were just too hurt and angry to really pay attention to much else at the moment. 

“I’ll find another way,” You spat. “I don’t want to be near you right now. I can’t even fucking look at you.”

That hit a nerve. For a split second you saw frustration towards you flash on Wanda’s features, but then in a blink it was gone and her composure came back. Wanda didn’t want to spend the night screaming at each other, she was going to at least try to avoid that. If she could calm you down she could explain and start making it up to you, but your behavior was quickly testing her. 

“(Y/N), stop it.” Wanda’s voice was more firm as she spoke. “Let’s just go. How are you going to even get home without me? Your phone is dead. What’s your plan?”

“I’ll take her.” The two of you turned to follow the voice and to your relief there came Nat from the other end of the hall.  

Natasha had some great fucking timing. You didn’t want to be near Wanda for another second and now finally your best friend was there to save the day. You didn’t even know how she found you in this place, but you were too thankful to even question it. 

“Come on,” Nat extended a hand towards you. “I’ll take you home.” She nodded at you encouragingly, soft eyes meeting yours. She didn’t know what this was about, but she didn’t need much context to know that somehow Wanda majorly fucked up. Nat knew it was only a matter of time before that happened. She saw how territorial Wanda was with you and for some reason, Nat never trusted it. So, unfortunately for Wanda, Nat became almost as fiercely protective of you as she was. 

“Okay,” You let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Okay, yeah.” You took her hand and that’s when Wanda’s patience was really wearing thin. 

“I can take her home,” Wanda stepped in front of Nat quickly before she could pull you away. “We,” Wanda turned her eyes to look at you, “Need to seriously talk.” 

“She said she didn’t want to, Wanda.” Nat answered for you. The glare she gave Wanda would make anyone else cower in fear, but directed towards Wanda it only angered her more. “I’m taking her home.” 

“And what then?” Wanda challenged. Nat knew exactly what Wanda was implying. As much as you told Nat you reassured Wanda that the thing between you two was platonic, Nat knew Wanda refused to believe you. 

“I’m just dropping her off.” Nat didn’t miss a beat, refusing to back down from Wanda’s attempts to intimidate her.

“Sure you are,” Wanda scoffed. 

“Wanda!” You interrupted. This was ridiculously and you just wanted to go home. Right now really isn't the time to deal with a fight between the two people who care about you most, or at least who you thought did. “You’re not one to talk and I’m leaving right now.”  With that you tugged on Nat’s hand and began to walk in any direction that didn’t lead to Wanda. You’d find your way out of this place somehow, hopefully, but right way or not you didn’t want to look at your girlfriend any longer. “Don’t follow us!” You ordered behind you as you dragged Nat with you.

Wanda stood there and watched you walk away. She wasn’t going to follow you, she already had a better plan. She was going to beat you home. After all, she did have a key to your place. Was it the best plan to corner you and get you to talk? No, Wanda thought this would definitely be a night full of yelling and arguing now, but she didn’t really give a fuck. She wasn’t going to leave Natasha alone with you while you were in this state. No matter what, Wanda just didn’t quite trust Nat with you. Whether Nat realized it herself or not, Wanda knew there was more to her feelings. She watched the way Natasha looked at you, she didn’t need to read her mind to know what her intentions were. 

So as soon as the two of you were out of sight, Wanda rushed to her car. She was going to make sure she got there first. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The car ride with Natasha was silent, but you were incredibly thankful for that. You just sat with your eyes glued to the window. The passing scenery not even registering to you, all you saw was that scene of Vision kissing Wanda replaying over and over again. Natasha didn’t question what happened, she knew if you wanted to talk you would. Instead, she just drove, her eyes flicking over to you every once in a while to make sure you were okay. 

When you both pulled up to your place, you asked Nat if you could sit in the car for a little bit, not quite ready to walk into your empty home and break down. 

“What happened?” Nat tentatively asked, breaking the silence after a few minutes of you just sitting and staring at your front door. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” She quickly added, trying her best not to push you into doing or saying anything you didn’t want to.

“She kissed Vis.” Your voice was barely a whisper, your hands balling into fists on your lap. Natasha just stared at you for a moment. If she already wasn’t pissed with the scene she witnessed at Tony’s party, now she was furious. 

“Whatever you need,” Nat offered, “I’m here.” She knew from your tone you didn’t want to give much more information, so she didn’t press. She just offered you what space she could and waited patiently as you both sat in silence for a few more minutes. 

After some time went by, you finally nodded  to yourself and started to get out of the car. Nat insisted on walking you in. You didn’t protest much, you understood she was concerned about you. Natasha’s intention was just to give you a moment to collect yourself once you sat at home and give you the opportunity to talk more, cry, whatever you needed. She figured you could tell her then if you wanted her to leave or not, but if you wanted her to stay she’d be the shoulder you needed to cry on. 

So she followed you in, but what neither of you noticed was the familiar car parked on the other side of the street .

“I thought she was just going to drop you off.” You heard the voice in the dark the minute you and Nat walked in the door. It startled the hell out of you, but Nat just seemed unphased. She was somewhat expecting this behavior from Wanda. Natasha had hoped you two would make it time, so she could protect you while you did what you needed to heal from whatever pain Wanda caused. Obviously, that wasn’t going to be how the rest of tonight played out. 

Reaching over, you flipped the lights on only to see Wanda sitting on the couch, arms folded over her chest and clear irritation written all over her face. You expected Wanda to chase after you, but you didn’t expect her to let herself into your place or to even beat you to it. Right now, you were really regretting giving her a key. 

“How did you get here before us?” Was the only thing you could think to say as you stared at the one person you really didn’t want to be looking at right now.

“I should be asking you why it took you so long.” Wanda said, clearly still annoyed by Natasha’s presence. Meanwhile, Nat was just standing beside you, her arms folded just like Wanda’s, with a matching annoyed expression on her face. “What were you two doing in the car for so long?” You didn’t miss what Wanda was insinuating and you didn’t like it one bit. 

“We were talking.” Natasha answered for you. “I was comforting her.” Wanda’s lips twitched at that and you knew Nat just hit a nerve. You bit your lip to stop the taunting smirk you wanted to give Wanda. Anything that pissed Wanda off felt a little like a small victory. She was jealous? Good, you thought, now she had the smallest taste of how you were feeling. 

“I’m sure you were,” Wanda gave a tight lipped smile. “But we need to talk so I suggest you leave now.”

“I’m not leaving until she asks me to.” You looked at Nat in awe as she held her ground, not even phased by the brewing rage that showed in Wanda’s eyes. She stood by you, unwavering in her resolve. “I think it’s you who should leave.”

“Oh do you?” Wanda scoffed. “I’m not leaving. She’s my girlfriend, or have you both forgotten?” 

“I think you’re the one that forgot that, Wanda.” You finally speak, fists clenching as you stand practically shaking. How dare she try to be territorial after she did what she did? You weren’t going to stand for this or for the way she was treating Nat. “And I agree with Nat. You should go.”

Wanda’s eyes left Nat’s for a moment and when they reached you, you could almost see them soften. She could tell you were hurting, could tell you were confused. All she wanted to do was clear the air, reassure you that what you saw was a misunderstanding that she doesn’t and would never want Vision in the way she wanted you. If she could just talk to you without Natasha’s frustrating presence then everything would be okay, she was sure of it. It would take some convincing, but you’d understand. She’d make you understand. 

But then, Nat placed her hand on your waist and something inside Wanda snapped. You saw her eyes zero in on the contact Natasha made with you and you didn’t miss the way her eye practically twitched as anger began to rise yet again. “I’m not leaving.” Wanda held her ground. She was sure as hell not going to let you be alone, vulnerable and hurting with someone like Natasha to come prey on your current state. Wanda wasn’t a fool, she could practically picture what would happen. “Not until we talk. Alone.” 

You looked from Wanda to Nat. On the one hand, you really wanted your closest friend to stay by your side, on the other hand you could imagine things would get ugly if Nat were to stay. It was clear, Wanda really wasn’t going to leave until you two talked. Either way, you imagined things would get ugly, but at least you could save yourself a little bit from even more embarrassment by having Natasha avoid the total blow up that you knew was bound to happen.

“It’s okay, Nat.” You heard yourself say before you could really register your decision. “I’ll be okay, why don’t you head home?”

Nat’s jaw clenched as she glared at Wanda for a moment before looking back at you. “Are you sure?” You felt her hand squeeze your waist gently where it rested and all you saw in your friend’s eyes was concern. “I don’t have to-”

“She said she wanted you to head home.” Wanda cut her off, stalking towards the two of you. 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Nat spit, not even bothering to look over at Wanda as she came closer. “I can stay,” she reassured you.

You shook your head. Wanda was two seconds away from making this even worse than it already was. You weren’t entirely sure what Wanda would do to Nat, and you knew Nat could hold her own, but you also didn’t necessarily want to test any of that. “It’s okay, really.” You placed your hand over the hand Nat still had resting on your shoulder. “If anything happens,” You said in a hushed voice. “I’ll call you.”

“Please do,” Natasha urged. She looked back between you and where Wanda stood. Thankfully Wanda stopped just a few feet from you both, seemingly satisfied for now that Natasha was agreeing to leave. She felt triumphant that clearly, even when upset with her, you knew to choose her in situations like this. If she wasn’t still so concerned with getting through to you, she would be gloating at the fact that you chose her. Of course, she had no doubt that you wouldn’t. You were hers and she knew that you knew that. Then again, she also thought you would never believe so easily that she would just willingly touch and be touched by another, not when you two were so clearly in love. But then, here you both were. 

You gave Natasha one more nod of reassurance and Nat just looked back at you, hesitant to take her eyes off you for even a second, but the tap of Wanda’s foot told her if she didn’t leave things would escalate even further fast. So, with great hesitation, she turned from you, giving you one last concerned look before heading out the door and closing it behind her. 

It was silent for a moment. Your eyes were glued to the door Natasha had just walked out of and Wanda’s were glued to you. Neither of you knew how to start, but you knew if you started you’d just dig in. You were hurting and two seconds away from starting an all out war with Wanda, but you also knew that wouldn’t be productive. If you were being honest, the only thing you wanted to do now that Nat was gone was crawl into bed and sob your eyes out. 

“(Y/N), it wasn’t what it looked like.” Wanda finally broke the silence, taking another step towards you. 

You just scoffed and walked past her to the bedroom, making sure to not-so-gently brush her shoulder as you passed. If you two were going to have this fight you needed a minute. At least you wanted to change out of your party clothes. “That’s a cliche,” You said over your shoulder as you walked into the bedroom. Wanda just stood there stunned for a moment, not used to getting the cold treatment from you. It was quickly beginning to irritate her. 

Turning on her heels, Wanda was right behind you in a matter of moments, following you straight into the bedroom. “It wasn’t,” Wanda insisted, watching as you walked into your closet and began to pull out different clothes.

“I’ve heard this all before,” You called from the closet as you dug for more comfortable clothes. “I know this story. I was just stupid to think…” You stopped and shook your head before gathering your clothes. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear it, Wanda. I honestly still want you to leave.” 

“Just let me explain,” Wanda sighed, sitting herself down on your bed while she waited for you to come back out of the closet. With clothes in your hand, your eyebrow quirked as you saw her get comfortable. Something about the image of Wanda in your room, on your bed, after you saw what you saw was making you feel more bitter. It made you think back to the kiss you witnessed and made you wonder how many times Wanda was in his bed since being with you. 

“Get up and turn around.” You commanded as you stood right outside of your closet. 

“What?” Wanda eyed you curiously. “Why?”

“I’m going to change.”

“I’ve seen you naked before,” Wanda deadpanned.

Yes, she certainly has, but the idea of her seeing you like that now made your stomach churn. Being vulnerable like that with her was a privilege you gave to her when you thought she was only being that intimate with you. Now, though, everything has changed. “I don’t care.” Your tone was harsh. “Get Up. Turn Around.”

Wanda stared you down for a moment. You just stared back with exasperation and Wanda realized you wouldn’t budge on this. With a loud and dramatic huff, she got up from where she sat herself on your bed and turned as you began to pull off your party clothes and slip into something more comfortable.

It didn’t sit right with Wanda that you had her turn around. It was one little crack in her hopeful plan to convince you. It was a sign that you were slipping from her and the thought of that sent anxiety creeping up her spine. She tried to tell herself it was just your way of punishing her for the scene you saw. Once you understood it would be okay, she told herself. It had to be okay. 

“You can turn around now.” You said and immediately Wanda jumped at the opportunity to look at you again. She hoped that if you saw the sincerity in her eyes you’d be convinced faster that she wasn’t cheating on you, but when she saw you look at her with nothing but an aloof expression, she was worried it wouldn’t be so easy. Not only that, but she was already struggling to keep her composure with your stubborn attitude. 

“Can we talk now?” Wanda was trying so hard to be gentle about this. She knew she had already lost her cool a few times tonight, especially with Natasha, and that wasn’t going to win her any points but she still really just needed you to hear what happened. 

“Talk.” You muttered, standing in front of Wanda with your arms crossed, trying to appear as closed off from her as possible. Wanda felt that crack in her hopes and composure once more, but she shook it off for a second and took the opportunity you were giving her. 

“Vision kissed me.” Wanda started. “I didn’t kiss him.”

You just rolled your eyes at that. One thing you knew for sure if you were to even consider believing Wanda was that you were going to need more explanation than that to make this all okay. Even then how stupid did Wanda take you for? Vision might have kissed her, but she wasn’t the one to pull back either.

“Mhm, and that still makes it okay how?” 

“I didn’t kiss him!” Wanda exclaimed in frustration. “It wasn’t me who did that!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t stop him either did you?” Wanda’s patience wasn’t the only one’s who was running up. You already didn’t want to hear her excuses tonight and she was doing a horrible job at convincing you of tonight’s fiasco being about anything other than selfish actions by two people to hurt you. 

“I was shocked,” Wanda sighed, knowing that she was sounding less convincing by the second, but still she wasn’t going to let this go. She wasn’t about to lose you. “He caught me off guard and it took me a minute to react. Didn’t you see me shove him away? Didn’t you see how angry I was?”

“Yeah, you only did that after you both realized I got there.” You scoffed. 

“No,” Wanda shook her head adamantly. “No, I didn’t know you were there.” 

“Sure.” You really weren’t buying any of this. Even if it was true that she wasn’t expecting the kiss, that she didn’t want it, there was something still nagging at you. “Why did you even leave me to go see him in the first place?”

“I just wanted a nice night,” Wanda offered. “He wanted to talk, so I agreed and thought after we could get on with our evening.”

“You left me alone for over thirty fucking minutes, Wanda!” All of these excuses Wanda was giving you felt like it was belittling the hurt you felt. You knew you hadn’t really let her talk long but you were already tired of hearing all of it. You were tired of this conversation and you were about done. “Why didn’t you even think to tell me it was him you were going to meet? Do you know how suspicious that looks?”

“I know, I know!” Wanda pleaded. “But there’s nothing going on between us. You have to believe me.”

“How?” You sneered. “How am I supposed to believe you? Obviously, there’s something going on. Otherwise he wouldn’t have kissed you.” 

“(Y/N), there’s not and you know it. You’re just too angry to listen to reason.” Wanda took a step closer to you, trying her best to get through to you with as much patience as she could muster after this trying evening. “You just need to calm down and-”

“Don’t.” You seethed. “Don’t tell me what I need to do. What you need to do, Wanda, is leave. Now. I’m done talking for the night.” That was it, you had it for one evening. Wanda accusing your emotions of skewing your perspective may have been right but it wasn’t what you wanted to hear right now. You didn’t really want to hear anything, you didn’t even want to talk tonight but here you were. On your part, you thought you heard her out way more than she deserved for the night. Especially when you felt like you made it clear you didn’t have much interest in doing this tonight in the first place. 

“I’m not leaving.” Wanda held her ground in front of you. You two just stayed there for a moment, staring. Your expression challenging her to back down, hers daring you to push her further. Your fists clenched and unclenched as you tried to figure out your next move and then it dawned on you. If she wasn’t going to leave you were. And since you were beyond hurt and angry, you knew you leaving her there alone to soak in the mess she made was perfect punishment for the pain she caused you. 

Without a word you turned and started rushing around the room, gathering a few things you’d need for an overnight stay elsewhere. Wanda constantly questioned you as she watched you scurry around the room, but she didn’t stop you just yet. She had hope you’d stop and come to your senses before you got too far. All you did was dodge her questions and keep on moving. You hadn’t exactly figured out where you’d go for the night, but if she wasn’t going to leave you weren’t going to stay and you were pretty sure you’d figure out where to go once you actually got out away from Wanda. With clothes stuffed in your arms and your keys in hand, you thought the only good thing about this situation was the anger and shock had sobered you up very quickly. You had a few drinks at the party, but that isn't affecting you as much anymore. The one thing that might affect your driving was the threat of tears that might spill once you were completely alone. It was a risk worth taking, you told yourself, because one more moment next to Wanda and you were going to break down in front of her. That was still something you wanted to avoid. 

You reached the door, your hands still full as you struggled to turn the knob and open it. In two quick strides Wanda was right behind you, her hand reaching in front of you to slam the door shut the minute you had it barely cracked. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” She hissed through clenched teeth. Obviously, you hadn’t come to your senses in time so she realized she had to step in and stop you before you did something reckless. 

“If you’re not going to leave, then I guess I will.” You turned slowly, trying to glare Wanda down and not show any sort of reaction to the anger burning in her eyes.

“Where will you go then, huh? To Nat’s?” Wanda practically spit Natasha’s name out her mouth as she spoke. “What so Vision kisses me and now you’re going to go fuck your buddy?”

Your eyes widened in shock at that. “What are you even talking about, Wanda?” You had always known Wanda was a jealous person and she was definitely not subtle about her disdain for Natasha, but you didn’t actually think she’d accuse you of that. Then again, you also didn’t think she’d cheat on you with Vision, but here you two were. “There’s nothing between me and Nat, but you’d think that wouldn’t you? Paranoid about us? Makes sense, if you’re seeing Vision behind my back of course you’d be worried I’d be doing the same thing with someone else.”

“I told you,” Wanda said through gritted teeth. “Vision kissed me. I am not with him.”

“Why didn’t you pull back? Why were you in his arms? It didn’t look like that!” You asked again, daring her to give you a better answer. Actually no, you didn’t want to give her another opportunity for a shitty excuse, you just really wanted to leave. It was just hard to actually do that when Wanda still had a firm hand on the door, keeping it shut as she cornered you between her arms. “Well, Wanda, you can go be with Vision. I don’t care! I don’t care who you fuck and you don’t have any right to care if I go out and fuck Natasha.” Not like you would, but at this point you just wanted her to feel the hurt you were feeling. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Wanda’s voice wasn’t a yell anymore. It was low, dangerous, and threatening. You did manage to hurt her, but even worse, you managed to make her absolutely rage too. Wanda’s hands left the door and quickly went to either side of your waist, her nails digging into your skin through your shirt as she not so gently pushed you against the door. “Do I need to remind you that you’re mine?”

Your jaw clenched, your anger has already obviously gotten the better of you, but now it’s gotten the better of Wanda too. She got angry, sure, but she was always careful around you. She had good control of it, at least usually. She knew that if she went off around you it could scare you, and that was the last thing she wanted. So she reined it in for you, but now you were threatening to go be with someone else? She couldn’t have that. All of this started because of Vision and Wanda silently made a promise to herself to take care of him at a later date, but right now she needed you to understand just how badly you fucked up now. And as you watched Wanda seeth in front of you, you were beginning to regret those words.

“Wanda, you don’t just get to own me and go fuck around with Vision.”

“For the last fucking time I am not!” Wanda’s words echoed throughout the room. Her eyes swirled with red magic and you knew that was a sign that Wanda was very quickly losing any ounce of control she had left. The red in her eyes burned like fire as she stared you down. You felt her fingers dig harder into your skin as she held you and you could tell she was trembling at this point too. She was beyond control now as she had you pinned to the door. “And I do own you,” Wanda hissed before pressing herself fully to you.

You grunted at the feeling of her pressing you impossibly close to the door. Your hands went up to her shoulders to shove at them, to try to get her to back off, but it was like she didn’t even notice. Which, that would make sense considering you knew Wanda was much stronger than you. Wanda leaned in so close to you that you felt her breath ghost your lips and in any other moment you would’ve been weak at the knees, but with the way the look in her eyes was completely unhinged, her close proximity only made you gulp. 

 “I have never,” she put as much emphasis on each word as she spoke, “been with Vision since I met you.” Wanda was speaking in a whisper now, but you didn’t miss the way her lips twitched in anger. You also didn’t miss the way you felt Wanda pin you more with her body than her hands and then you realized it was her way of being able to move them freely without the risk of you running.

One of her hands moved up until she was gripping your chin while the other started to snake down your body. With her hold on you, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to, but that wasn’t your main concern. Your main concern was the feeling of Wanda popping the button of your pants open. “Wanda…” This time all the anger left your voice and the only emotion it had in it was fear. This wasn’t something you wanted to happen with Wanda. She was always loving and gentle with you. You weren’t used to this side of her. Wanda had talked to you about the darker sides of her, but you never imagined you would see it full force, but now here you were. And you were honestly a little bit to blame. You pushed her buttons, you wanted to hurt her and hurt her you did. It should’ve been obvious that Wanda’s response to hurt wouldn’t be the best. 

“You’re mine, (Y/N),” Wanda whispered before turning your chin with her hand, letting your neck be exposed to her. “But don’t worry… I’m yours too.” WIth that you felt Wanda’s teeth sink into your neck and the hands that were once trying to push her away grabbed fist fulls of her shirt. 

“Wanda!” You tried to sound firm but your voice quivered as you spoke, obviously affected by the way Wanda’s teeth dragged down your skin, even if you didn’t want to be right now. You knew, you should probably try harder, but it was also Wanda and her touch always broke your resolve. Except, you were still hurting and not sure how much you believed Wanda even if she said she was yours, even if she said she wasn’t with Vision. You wanted to believe her, which might be why you weren’t exactly trying that hard to protest her touch, but then you felt her hand begin to slip into your panties and you knew you had to shut it down. 

“Wanda, I don’t want this,” your voice was quiet, but firm. And that’s all it took for Wanda to utterly freeze. You both were breathing hard for a moment, Wanda’s body still pinning you to the door as you both stood there. As much as Wanda wanted to prove her point, stake her claim on you, she would never do it against your will. She lost herself and suddenly her blood ran cold as she took in just how badly she lost control. The thought of you being with someone else, that made her blood boil, but you not wanting to be hers anymore? That made her terrified. 

You were the bright light in her life that she was missing for so long. You were someone Wanda was waiting for and she never even knew it. She had tried with Vision, had tried to make things work, but try as she might there was always something missing. That is, until you smiled at her, your eyes filled with nothing but innocent admiration for her. It took just one smile from you and suddenly Wanda’s whole world lit up. The thought of not having that anymore was unfathomable to her. You were the source of her happiness, the air she breathed, all Wanda knew since the moment she met you was, well, you. She couldn’t lose you, but she’d be damned if she ever actually hurt you. And fuck she came so close…

Wanda’s hands immediately moved, but they didn’t let go of you. This time they found their way back to your waist and her head moved back to look you in the eye again. Immediately, you knew you got through to her, but you also knew she was two seconds from breaking too. “I was not with Vision.” Wanda said this more firmly. No more anger in her voice, but still it was filled with utter conviction. “I wasn’t. I’m sorry that I… That I almost- but I wasn’t. I was not with Vision.”

“Okay,” you nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.” 

“I’m yours, I couldn’t be anyone else’s.” In that moment you really believed her. After all the anger had passed you could finally see it. Just as you couldn’t have fathomed Wanda doing something like that before you saw what you saw, she couldn’t fathom doing something like that to you either. “I. Am. Yours.” 

“I know,” You whispered, your hands finally relaxing on her shoulders. “I believe you.”

Wanda sighed for a moment, but you could tell she was still waiting for something. She still had a tight grip on you and she wasn’t going to be letting go any time soon, but you knew it was out of fear this time and not anger. There were words she wanted to hear, but she had already pushed too much, already made a huge mess of things. The way she almost took what you weren’t willing to give, she couldn’t overstep again or she knew it wouldn’t end well for the both of you, if there still was something between the both of you. 

“I’m yours too.” Wanda’s eyes searched yours as you spoke. She wanted to make sure this wasn’t said out of fear, especially considering how she was acting just moments ago, she wouldn’t be surprised if you were lying to protect yourself. But you weren’t, she could see it in your eyes. You looked sad, yes, but you weren’t scared when you said those words. Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know that, not that she ever would. She might have lost control, but she would never violate you like that or in any other way, despite how close she had come. She still stopped when you said no, she still resisted the urge to read your thoughts when you were pushing back so hard. 

Wanda took a deep breath. “I can’t lose you,” she said, her voice quiet as she spoke. Her head pressed against yours, unable to look into your eyes as she tried to get out her one request. “Please, don’t go to Natasha’s tonight.”

“I won’t,” You whispered, your hand reaching up to cup her cheek. “I’ll stay, okay?”

Wanda didn’t say anything, you just felt her nod before her lips pressed gently against yours. This kiss was filled with emotion, filled with love and longing. You knew she was trying to show you she wouldn’t hurt you again in the kiss, but you also knew she was struggling to hold back her need to confirm you were really hers. Your hands moved and wove into her hair and you pulled her body closer to yours yet again. You were still trapped between Wanda and the door, but this time you didn’t mind. The hands that had already popped the buttons of your pants open were still at your waist, but as the kiss deepened you felt them begin to drift back to where they once were. Only this time, you were more than happy to let Wanda’s hands roam. 

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” Wanda whispered against your lips. 

“It’s okay,” You said between kisses. “It’s okay.” Your grip on her hair was tighter as the kiss shared between you two grew more desperate. There was an unspoken understanding of what Wanda needed and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need it too. She needed to prove to you that you belonged to hers, and you needed her to touch you in a way you knew was only reserved for you.

Wanda’s hands slid straight into your panties and with the way she was kissing you and even the way her teeth marked your neck before, you were already wet for her. When Wanda’s fingers brushed against your clit to collect your wetness, she immediately felt that surge of pride and possession she got from touching you. She knew only she could have this part of you, only she could make you feel this way and touch you in this way. That fact alone had Wanda eager to take all you’d give. 

Wanda’s lips moved to your neck once again and when you felt her teeth drag along your skin you couldn’t stop the quiet whine that left your lips. You were driving Wanda crazy and she already had so much possessive energy she needed to pour into you, so she didn’t waste any time. Without much warning, you feel Wanda slide her fingers down between your folds before two of them dipedp into you. 

Your hands clench impossibly tighter into her hair and she didn’t hesitate to start a steady rhythm. It doesn’t take long for moans to fall from your lips and Wanda thinks they are music to her ears. She’s drunk off your reactions and off the way you clench around her fingers when she hits the spot she knows you love. All of this feels so much more intense after the night you two had, after Wanda almost lost you and after you thought Wanda wasn’t yours. Now you both know, there’s no one who could take you two away from each other. Wanda was yours and by some miracle you were still hers. Not Natasha’s, not anyone’s, only Wanda’s. 

The thought of that spurred Wanda’s movements more, pumping her fingers harder into you. Your hands left her hair to steady yourself on her shoulders, your nails digging into her skin. It was getting difficult for you to stand up straight, what with the way Wanda was pressing her hips into yours with every pump of her fingers and how your pants and panties had both somehow fallen down your legs enough to give Wanda more ease in fucking you.

If Wanda was drunk off your reactions, you were absolutely lost in her touch. The way her fingers felt inside you, the way her tongue felt on your skin. You didn’t even mind that in the morning your neck would be covered with visible marks, the sting of her teeth sinking into your neck too tantalizing to care about much else in the moment. You felt that tight pull in the pit of your stomach that indicated you were fast approaching the edge, but Wanda wasn’t quite done yet. 

“I want to feel you cum around my cock,” Wanda growled against your neck, her fingers pulling out without warning. 

You were already too lost in your own pleasure to really realize anything she was saying but the minute you lost contact your confusion overtook you. “Wanda what? What do you- Fuck!” Wanda didn’t waste any time, magicking her pants away and a strap between her legs. It took her two seconds to line it up with your entrance and replace her fingers with it. 

The back of your head hit the door the moment you felt her sheath it inside you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as she ground herself into you to get herself as deep as possible. And then she hoisted up one of your legs, hooking it over her waist so her cock could go ever deeper inside you. The whole time, her iron grip and unwavering strength held you steady as she just pressed herself into you, enjoying the feeling of reaching deeper than she ever had before, deeper than you think you’ve ever taken anyone before. Wanda did that for a moment, enjoying the way your walls squeezed her cock. But then it wasn’t enough and with a growl she pulled out and started fucking you with abandon. You two had tried using a strap-on before, but this was definitely a new one. Wanda couldn’t help the pride she felt at your ease in taking all of her despite the size and the aggression in the way she was pumping herself inside you.

You didn’t think she’s ever fucked you like this. No, you knew this was new. She was always gentle, always making sure her touch was controlled and loving. This wasn’t the same, her touch was more possessive than it ever had been, all consuming. You had hit a nerve, you had threatened to not be hers, and now she needed to prove to you that you belonged to her, heart, mind, and especially body. 

The sounds of your hips hitting the door with each time Wanda pushed her own into yours sounded all throughout the room. With each moment Wanda pushed into you she let out a groan and you understood that her magic somehow allowed her to feel everything she was doing. Her nails dug into the thigh that was hooked to her waist and her other flew to your throat, pressing down just enough to drive you wild but not enough to bring fear. 

You, for the most part, were just trying to take Wanda’s cock in the best way you could, moaning her name, chanting fuck when she began to speed up. It was all overwhelming in the best way and you knew Wanda could feel your thighs shake as she drew you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel good.” Wanda grunted in your ear as she continued to pump her cock into you. “So fucking good. Fuck fuck!” Wanda’s pace became erratic and the hand that was pressed to your throat flexed as she avoided temptation to press down harder. 

All you could do was moan as your hands grabbed at Wanda to keep yourself upright. You could tell by the force of Wanda’s hips pushing into yours that you’d have bruises, but you couldn’t begin to care with how good it felt to have Wanda’s cock buried in you. 

“I’m going to cum,” Wanda groaned. “Fuck, I want to fill you with my cum.” Wanda’s cock slammed into you and you could tell by her trembling body that she was incredibly close. “I’m going to cum inside you.” 

As Wanda kept fucking herself inside you came out of your haze just slightly to question what she meant. Curious if it was something said at the heat of the moment or something Wanda actually meant. “Wanda what do you mean- oh fuck.” And suddenly you got your answer. Wanda cried out and you felt hot spurts of Wanda’s cum fill you from the inside. As her faux cock still moved inside you, you felt her continue to fuck her cum deeper inside you and the sensation was too much for you to take, you yourself falling apart on her cock just seconds after. 

Wanda slumped forward, her forehead pressed to yours as you both tried to catch your breath. You felt her cum drip down your thigh when Wanda finally let your leg fall from her waist, but you weren’t recovered enough to move from the door and clean yourself up yet.

“You’re mine,” Wanda whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Don’t ever forget that.”

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[devilfic]

hi!!! it’s not very original but i’ve a request for a steve, rivals to lovers kind of scenario dhahdhs the idea of him constantly being shown up by a cool mc when he canonically cannot win fights is fucking funny to me

❝rival coworkers to lovers with steve harrington❞

pairing: steve harrington x coworker!gn!reader. cw: fluff, rivals to lovers, coworkers, workplace romance, steve is steveing. words: 1.9k.

I just think it would be SO funny if steve started a feud with you for employee of the month

it starts when steve realizes he needs a second source of income when his sweet ride starts breaking down on him and his parents decide that now is the right time to teach him some personal responsibility

robin as his best friend Obviously would find places to apply with him but between graduating and entering her hot lesbian summer era, she’s just gotta pat him on the cheek and wish him luck

there aren’t a lot of great options in hawkins, and since the mall got destroyed, he’s gotta scour smaller shops for places to work

but try as he might, his world-renowned Harrington Charm isn’t enough to land him a position (or at least not one that’ll pay for the repairs he needs on his car before he’s 30)

and it’s just as he’s starting to give up, spirit almost completely broken, that a lady in a boutique flags him down for how easy he is on the eyes

talking to him for like five minutes gives her all the reason she needs to practically shove an application into his hands for the new sales position at the boutique

the boutique for… clothes. women’s clothing. women’s underclothing

it’s a lingerie shop

it serves the ladies of hawkins and steve has to ask why he got hired instead of someone like. nancy or something

and all he gets back is “a compliment from a looker like yourself goes a long way in business, sweetheart”

and I mean. between folding stacks of lingerie and ringing up every hottie within a 10 mile radius… how could he resist :)

his main job is standing around and offering uncertain customers that little nudge to hand over the money

“that color is stunning, but you blondes can pull off anything. oh, you’re actually a natural brunette? I could’ve sworn with the way the light hits you… maybe you’re just this radiant all the time?”

“you really don’t wanna get that top? listen, I know the cut is a little *makes vague gestures* out of your comfort zone, but take it from a guy… it’ll drive your husband wild”

“oh, please diane. it’s your retirement! get a trip to the bahamas, drink a sex on the beach, treat yourself to something nice and get that set. you know you want to~”

god he’s INSUFFERABLY good at it

he’s just so personable and always knows just how much to push it

he’s also got a surprisingly good eye for fashion

he knows what colors suit warm and cool tones, what kind of cup style is most comfortable, how to pick flattering clothes for every body type

whenever robin visits and sees him in action she gets all starry-eyed at all the hot mamas that STEVE of all people gets to hang around

her poor gay heart is overwhelmed

she even begs him to get her a job at the store, any job at all. she’d mop walls and change doorknobs if it meant she could scope out cute ladies for a few hours a week

but steve wouldn’t let her work there anyway, even if it did mean he’d make employee of the month by default

he probably would be employee of the month by now too… if it wasn’t for you

you, who was in his graduating class and would have given a speech for valedictorian if you hadn’t gotten caught in a senior prank two weeks before the ceremony

you, who has been working at the store an entire year longer than he has

you, who could secure any sale without even trying

you, who, despite welcoming him with open arms on his first day, reminiscing about hawkins high even though you two had never had a full conversation a day in your lives, had this strange look in your eyes that steve just couldn’t shake

it was always there, teetering beneath your fluttering eyelashes as you did inventory

as you tidied the dressing rooms

as you lingered at the register, fingers tapping out an unnerving rhythm while you followed him around on the floor with your gaze

it took him his first shared shift with you to realize exactly what it was

"I don’t know, diane,” you’d whisper, slithering between the two of them with that knowing look on your face, “steve’s right about everything except the color; it won’t be nearly as sexy on you as the teal one. sex on the beach should be colorful, no? I mean the drink, of course. what do you think?”

and just like that, you swoop diane right off her feet and steal his entire sale within less than a minute

because you’re evil. you’re the devil. you’re employee of the month.

and goddamn it, steve harrington doesn’t have a lot going on for himself right now but being employee of the month at lace and vice™️ NEEDS to be one of them

and robin thinks this is the funniest shit she’s ever heard. she also suggests you two should just suck it up and suck face to get it over with

steve: I would NEVER suck their face. if and I said IF... I were ever going to do that—which I wouldn’t!—it would only be to take their breath away... in a murderous way, I mean. not like in a “I like them” way. cause I don’t. I don’t like them.

robin: I Know What You Are O.o

it sounds pathetic when he’s working a shift with her at family video because why wouldn’t it. it’s just another minimum wage job. no one their age would care this much. SHOULD care this much

steve usually wouldn’t care at all

he’s never cared about being a model employee at family video. hell, he didn’t even care about it at scoops ahoy

but every time you give him that smug little look, he cares just that little bit more

he sounds insane every time he tries to explain it to robin (and god forbid dustin when he dares to ask why steve looks so mopey all the time) but it’s like you’re deliberately targeting his ego. you know he preens like a peacock in a talent show every time someone falls for his charm

so the fact that his best bet, the one that got him this job in the first place, is under threat from you has his pretty little feathers all ruffled

after a few weeks of staying silent, he tries befriending you to see if that might help, turning his weapon on you

he calls you pet names that would make any one else in hawkins weak in the knees, holds the door for you when he times you coming in for your shift just right, turns that signature Harrington Charm up to 11

but you give him this knowing smile and throw it right back at him

(which, not gonna lie, it’s been a while since someone has made him blush like this and it’s really killing his reputation)

he then tries to ignore you, but the way you deliberately intercept his sales makes it damn near impossible

you’re always right around the corner, always hovering nearby

even when you’re not there, he feels like you are

in his head, making him nervous, thinking every voice with the same pitch might be yours

robin had taken to saying your name on their shared shifts just so that he’d fuck up whatever he was doing for shits and giggles

he even tried going against you head-to-head, but without fail, you beat him every single time

and if he didn’t think it was actually kinda hot he’d be way more pissed than he actually is

eventually, the tension grows so thick that steve thinks he might actually boil himself alive from the inside out

he’s seething with rage! inconsolable! hell hath no fury like a steven scorned-

and then the sweet young lady clutching a bralette to her chest for dear life between the two of you whispers, barely audibly, “do you guys need a minute?”

steve had completely forgotten he was supposed to be making a sale because you’d swooped in with your stupid pretty eyes and your stupid sultry voice and your stupid little grin and made him look like a whiny, blubbering fool. he was still red in the face with the mirror staring back at him

so he does what he should’ve done months ago. he grabs you by the arm and drags you to the break room for a “chat”

“alright, WHAT is your goddamn problem with me? I’ve tried to be nice to you, I’ve tried to give you your space… clearly you have some agenda against me, so what is it? was it my friends? we were assholes in high school, sure, but I’ve changed! I left that crowd years ago. and I’m sorry if I swept in and tried to steal your thunder, but I need this job to get out of this town one day and I’d really appreciate it if you’d just tell me what the deal is”

and for the first time in all the time he’s known you, you actually look… shocked. confused, even, “are… sorry, did I get the signals mixed up? were we not flirting with each other this whole time?”

steve… uh… well

he doesn’t know what to do with that

you look completely sincere

what the fuck

he would’ve said “no” but he’s so embarrassed that he starts to question himself

had he been flirting with you this whole time? more importantly, had you been flirting with him this whole time? was it some unconscious crush masking itself as envy? had he been so focused on your perceived villainy that he hadn’t considered, for even a moment, that you weren’t playing along?

he kinda blabbers a bit, struggling to voice his predicament, “well, I… I mean I thought that you hated me”

you blink, “where in the world did you get that idea?”

“you just seemed like you liked bullying me. stealing my customers and stuff. looking all… smug”

you kind of deflate and it’s unfortunately quite adorable now that steve isn’t blinded by senseless hatred anymore. your frown is the first time he’s seen you look so dejected, “I just thought... I mean, I used to see you flirting the same way with robin at scoops ahoy so I thought that maybe you liked that, you know? since you had a massive crush on her”

“it wasn’t that big of a crush-”

“and then she turned you down so i thought that maybe I might have a chance-”

“she didn’t turn me down, there was a- we mutually turned each other down-”

“but I don’t hate you, steve, honest. I really, really like you actually. I didn’t mean to freak you out”

and then you hold out your hand, the most timid he’s ever seen you do anything, as you ask for a truce

his hand meets yours in a gentle grasp

but all he can think to ask is “I don’t have a type, do I?”

you giggle, “what, people who are completely out of your league?”

had you made that same joke a week ago, steve Might have even been a little upset

but as he slowly processes your confession, his burned ego is immediately soothed

I mean, it was one thing to be bullied by you because you didn’t like him

it was a whole other thing if you actually did have feelings for him

mans isn’t above a little humiliation

“I resent that, but also you... definitely fit the bill, so you might be onto something”

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[junisfics]

We Can Share (1)

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Reader x Armin Arlert

Word Count: 5.0k

Series Summary: Eren’s more than willing to let his best friend fuck his girlfriend, going so far as even teaching him.

Part Summary: An out of pocket suggestion by Reader's boyfriend has her feeling insecure, but after a few moments of explanation, she caves.

Content: Friends with Benefits, Mutual Pining, Smut,

Content Warnings: Smut (Threesome MMF, Begging, Praise, Cucking, Male Masturbation, Voyeurism, Marking M Receiving, Handjob, Fellatio, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Choking, Slight Breeding Kink, Mention of Creampie)

your mind went blank in the revelation of what eren had just suggested. you were overwhelmed in confusion and insecurity, but there was a bubbling of arousal deep in your stomach.

he had brought you to his bed, laying back and having your head rest on his strong chest. you were tracing patterns into the fabric of his black tee shirt when he broke the comfortable silence.

it was upbrupt, it had you shooting your entire body upwards and turning to look at him with wide eyes.

“i want you to fuck armin.” he said, so calmy that you almost missed it. 

his large hand was resting on your waist as you sat up to face him. he was still laid back, looking at you like he hadn’t just said something so incredibly obscene.

“what?!” you exclaim, shifting around slightly to sit atop your legs. his hand sliding from your waist and over your supple thighs.

“i want you to let armin fuck you.” he shrugs, squeezing the plush skin beneath his finger tips. 

“where is this coming from?” you ask, scooting closer to him.

obviously, the thought has crossed your mind more than one time before, but you never expected for it to ever pass into reality. it just lurked in the back of your head and you were satisfied with that.

“he’s in love with you.” eren says, “and i trust him.”

hearing eren be so comfortable with the idea his best friend of many years, who also happens to be so deeply infatuated with you, fucking you has your brain short circuiting. 

“im sorry, im just very... startled by this.”

and so eren explains how he and armin’s tipsy late night talk that was once full of giggling and fake fist fights ended up steering towards that conversation. eren’s brain was buzzing and he was content and he just couldn’t keep his mind off you. so, naturally, he went on tangents to the blonde boy on how lovely you are. and that blonde boy was thinking the exact same thing, leading to him letting his rather obvious secret slip.

the conversation turned sexual rather quickly, and eren revealed the fact that ‘he wouldn’t mind letting armin fuck you’. and that little sentence had armins whole body lit on fire. every night for the past few years he’s wanted to take you as his... and now that option was finally in his grasp.

as eren went on about how okay he was with the idea of it, you slowly felt yourself teetering towards his direction. and after a few more minutes of clarity, you were sold.

‘i always have thought about how hot it would be to watch him fuck you.’ he said.

and eren sat comfortably in a chair beside you bed as you crawled yourself into the blonde boys lap. he was visibly nervous, his hands refusing to slide over your hot skin, jaw quivering as he feels your plush thighs press against his own and his waist.

he was sat at the edge of the bed, if you leaned back too far you'd lose your balance. so, cautiously, you let your hands rest on either side of his waist, not wanting to push too much too fast.

“armin, is this okay?” eren asks from beside the two of you. he sits confidently, slouched back into the chair and legs seperated as he looks to you with hazy eyes. he knows that no matter what armin does, that you’ll always come crawling back to him.

armins eyes jerk between you and eren before nodding.

“alright then kiss her.” eren adds.

armin lifts off his hands that were holding him upright and gently takes your face between them. his hands are warm, featherlight touches as if he’s afraid he’ll hurt you.

you tilt your head down slightly to look into his eyes, leaning into his touch. you toy with the hem of his blue shirt, almost reminding him that your hands were there. the faint blush on his cheeks and the trembling of his thighs sends a surge of confidence through your body.

then, tenderly, he brings his face to yours and takes your lips in his. they’re softer, gentler than eren’s. they stay pressed lightly to yours for a moment before you grow impatient. then you slide your hands up his shirt and to the warm skin of his abdomen, kissing him a little harder.

he’s so overwhelmed. your hands touching his hot skin, soft lips kissing his. his heart is in his throat as he feels your tongue slide against his bottom lip ever so slightly. it has him jerking beneath you.

it’s gentle like that, mouths moving languidly as armin trembles before you with your face in his hands. you can feel his abdominal muscles tense with every subtle lick of your tongue. you know that if your cunt was pressed against him that he would damn well be hard as a rock.

“armin, use your tongue. she likes it sloppy.” eren critiques. if you could see him you would see his hand palming over the growing bulge in his sweatpants. his stomach twists arousingly with every flash of your pink tongue against armins lips.

armin listens, slipping his tongue between your lips with a groan. his hands at your face come to pull you closer to him. your hands grabbing at the skin of his waist.

he was so careful with kissing you that it almost hurt. you weren't used to careful, you were used to eren throwing you around like a rag doll and using you until you couldn't function.

the way armin kisses you, all slow and sensual, is fucking with your head. it's making you dizzy.

you can't say you haven't thought about armin before, you were guilt filled with it, but you did nonetheless. you spent late nights awake and facing your ceiling while the thought of armin's lips on your neck crossed your mind.

his tongue slides against yours slowly as he gains the courage to slide his hands down to your waist. feeling you so close and in his hands has him painfully hard.

you're already shaking atop him, flooded with arousal and burning need. you wanted to know what he feels like, what he looks like when he cums, hear his sweet voice sing praises.

armin pulls away for a moment, you rest your forehead on his.

"a-are you okay? you're shaking..." he pants. rubbing slow circles over your hips.

eren chuckles, "she likes the way you kiss her. look at her armin, she's shaking for you."

his jaw slacks, dick twitching in his pants at the revelation. he's done this. he was so worried about trying to get you to submit to him that he didn't realize how easy it would actually be.

you scoot further up his lap, needing more from him. arousal was coursing through your veins. as you do so, your center lands on his cock. he's so hard for you and from what you can feel, he's got a decent size too. he lets out a shallow groan of your clothes cunt sliding across his dick.

"is he hard for you, y/n?" eren questions, still toying with his cock through his sweats.

"y-yeah." you nod, hands coming up to armin's pretty face to take his lips in yours once again.

you kiss him harder, faster, wanting more and more. he's a little taken back, but once he catches up he's got you in his hands.

he tastes like light peppermint, his tongue in your mouth and sliding against your own. it feels so fucking good. he's like a drug.

then, you're pulling away to tear your shirt over your head. it exposes your smooth breasts and ruffles your hair.

"oh my god." armin mumbles, eyes traveling over the expanse of skin you just revealed to him. his pupils fill with lust as he admires the soft skin, his hands sliding up your waist to feel up your sides.

"isn't she beautiful?" eren smiles, slipping his hand past his waistband to tease his stiff cock. he could never get enough of you, your gentle curves and warm skin. it drove him crazy.

armin nods in agreement.

"kiss her neck and she'll be like putty in your hands." eren teases you.

armin listens intently, leaning forward to attach his lips to the fragile skin of your neck. it sends a shiver down your spine, his breath fanning over your neck. your hands are tugging at the chest of his tee shirt, clinging to him.

he kisses gently once more, his left hand coming to the side of your neck as he nips at the opposite side. little whimpers leave your throat as he does so, you're keening for him.

your little fists balled in his shirt, wanting it off. so you let go of his chest and grab the hem, pulling it up his stomach. he hears you, and tugs it over his head.

you're in as much admiration as he was with you. the toned muscles of his chest and abs rippling as he settles himself again. his chest and neck were flushed a pink blush of arousal.

with confidence, his mouth is on your neck once more. mouth open, tongue sliding against the fragile skin and teeth teasing your jugular.

pathetic whimpers leave your lips as he marks up your skin real pretty.

"fuck armin- you hear her? hear how bad she needs you?" eren adds.

he does. he hears every sweet sound that hits his ears. he takes in your pretty moans and stores them in his head for later. they encourage him, drive him further, they have his cock twitching against your cunt.

when he's satisfied with the marks on your neck he returns to your lips, but is quickly pulled away by your hands pushing his shoulders to the bed. his head falling to the mattress.

"i'm sorry i'm-" you're used to be dominated by eren so you have no idea what just came over you.

"y/n... do not hurt him." eren warns, stilling his hand that feels him through his boxers.

"i'm sorry, armin." you lean down and take his face in your hands.

he was fine honestly, just startled. but he loves the way your legs feel in either side of his waist and the pressing of your chest against his.

"you're fine, it's alright" his hands are on your waist, gripping them tightly as you wiggle around on top of him.

then your lips are on his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin under his jaw. his hold on you tightens, eyes falling shut as his breath gets caught up in his chest. the feeling of your slick tongue sliding against his skin has him squirming.

he can feel your wet and hot mouth moving down his neck and chest, pausing here and there to suck a dark purple mark into his pale skin.

"she's marking you." eren mumbles.

you were. you wanted this to last forever. you wanted to see your bruises on his skin when he pulls his shirt of for a shower or when it's too hot outside. you want to see yourself on him.

you continue downwards, making your way down his stomach with intent for one thing. his abs flex with your kisses as you get lower and lower. then, when you reach his waistline, he shoots up.

"y/n- you- don't -"

"armin, if she wants to she will." eren reminds him. eren's hand has now slipped under the final layer, fingers trailing up the length of his hard cock.

eren's words are an extra affirmation for you as you tug both layers over his hips and his cock slaps his stomach.

you look up to armin with wide eyes that are comparable to a doe. your face is hot with arousal. he stares back, mouth hung open as he nods slightly.

you take his length in your hand, hard and heavy, warm and leaking precum.

"look at that... such a pretty dick, huh y/n?" eren groans, his own cock now in his hands. he was following along with your movements; if you pulled away from armin then he would pull away from himself.

he was right too. armin was about as long as eren was but a little thinner, but that wasn't a bad thing. eren was completely and utterly hung, you hadn't expected armin to even come close. he has a pretty dick; pale and pink, the tip flushed darker, veins littering up the base and side.

you look into armin's sweet blue eyes as you begin to stroke a hand up and down the length of his cock, taking in the way it jumps between your fingers. you watch his bottom lip quiver out of pleasure.

your hands were so soft, so small compared to his. he's dreamt about this moment a million times over, wishing you were his.

keeping eye contact, you take the head of his cock into your mouth and swirl your tongue around the smooth surface.

heavy breaths leave armins mouth that border groans. he's resting back onto his hands, the pressure causing his arms to tremble ever so slightly.

eren spits into his hand before returning to his own dick, sliding his hand over the now slick surface.

you push yourself further along armin's cock. you know you wouldn't be able to take it all, not without the help of his hands... but you know he wasn't a rough guy, so he wouldn't dare to shove his own cock down your throat.

your hands jerk around what your mouth can't reach. you look up to him through teary eyes.

this image will forever be burned into armin's skull: his dick in your mouth, spit all over his cock and your pretty lips, your hands grabbing at the base of him, tears pricking your vision.

"y/n, ease up. don't make him cum yet." eren's voice is gravelly and low, rumbling deep in his chest.

you pull off him, spit and precum stringing from your lips to his cockhead.

you get off the bed for a moment to slide your pants down your legs, leaving you in only your bra and panties.

"armin lay back, i'll get her ready for you." eren says.

armin pulls his sweats over his legs, keeping his boxers on, and pushes himself backwards to rest his back against the headboard. eren tugs off his shirt and pulls up his sweats before making his way over to the bed.

you crawl back onto the bed, coming up to armin and giving him a sloppy kiss before turning around and resting between his legs. your back is to his chest and you can feel his cock pressing into the base of your spine.

eren's arms flex as he comes in front of you, laying his stomach on the bed and his face facing your cunt. you have your legs spread for him, bent slightly at the knee and feet resting on the outside of armin's calves.

"good girl, y/n." eren praises, running his hands up your calves and nipping at the skin in his wake. he rests on his elbows as he takes your thighs in his hand and squeezes them soothingly.

he scoots forward, hard cock pressed into the mattress as his face comes inches away from your clothed center.

he gives your clit a gentle lick through your thin panties, admiring the way your breathing pick up with the smallest movements. he traces over the damp spot on your panties with his tongue as he makes eye contact with armin, who's watching him intently.

eren's nimble fingers slide under the waistband and slide them down your legs to expose your slick cunt.

you were so so wet, from armin and listening to eren's breathy groans as he jerked his own cock beside you.

"armin, take her bra off." eren says.

you lean forward slightly to allow armin to unclasp your bra. his fingers are hot against the skin of your back. once the straps slip over your shoulders, you tug the remainder down and toss it to the side.

your back is now completely bare as it rests against armins hot chest. you can feel the rise and fall of his breathing.

eren climbs back over to you once all your clothing is off. eyes boring into your cunt.

"fuck, you're so fucking wet." eren groans, "armin, what did you do to her?"

eren slides his middle and ring finger through your folds, gathering up slick all over his digits before pulling them away. your face heats up as he eyes the glistening of your slick in the light.

then, eren's eyes shift to armin's, his hand reaching up past your shoulder to push his fingers past the blonde boys lips. both of them groan lowly, eren from the feeling of armin's hot tongue over his digits, and armin from the saccharine taste of you on his tongue.

eren pulls his fingers from armins mouth and uses the wet of you and his saliva to guide them into your cunt. they slide in so easily it's almost funny, erens digits slip knuckle deep into you and drag against your sweet spot with the bumps of his knuckles.

your back is sent into a pretty arch against armin, your head falling back to his shoulder and your hands coming to grip his thighs on either side of you.

eren knows just what you like. his tongue slides over your sensitive clit, suckling gently as his fingers pump and curl in and out of you to stretch you out nice and good for armin's cock.

youre still on armins tongue when his mouth drops open at the sight of eren lapping at your center, an erotic sloshing sound coming from his fingers that thrust in and out of you.

your pretty moans and whimpers reach his ears as you squirm against him, your ass brushing up against his cock. seeing eren between your legs somehow makes him impossibly harder.

there was always a little hint of homoeroticism in him and eren’s relationship, but this just pushed it to another level. in a way he wasn’t just having sex with you... but he was having sex with eren too.

“shit - eren.” you whine, eyes squeezing shut as one hand comes off his thigh and laces your fingers through his tied back hair. 

“armin, play with her tits. help her cum.” eren pants.

armin’s hands slide up the skin of your stomach and to your chest, taking the flesh of your breasts between them. he feels up the supple mound of flesh, taking in how incredibly soft and pliable they are. the callous of his knuckles brush deliciously against your sensitive nipples. armin’s fingers take each nipple between them and tweak them so gently it almost feels like teasing.

the contrast between the two boys has you dizzy. eren’s rough, every movement filled with passion and purpose, while armin’s very gentle and cautious, even second guessing himself. it’s completely overwhelming and has you teetering the edge of release in minutes.

the coil in your stomach is completely wound up then snapped as eren curls his fingers once more over your sweet spot. you cum all over his long fingers, writhing in armin’s grasp as he continues to toy with your nipples through your orgasm. eren pulls his fingers out and licks you clean.

“you ready to fuck her little cunt?” eren chuckles, chin shiny from your slick.

armin's been ready since the first time he's met you. and now he finally gets to be inside you and feel you cum all over his cock. he gets to be the one that causes moans to rip through your throat and be the one that has you shaking underneath him.

"c'mere armin."

armin removes himself from behind you and you let your head fall back against the plush pillow.

then, before armin can turn to face you, eren's hand is around his neck and pulling his face to him. armin's hands come to brace himself on eren's chest so he doesn't fall forward.

"you remember the rule right?" eren hisses, right up in armin's face, purposely intimidating him.

armin nods sheepishly in eren's hand, eyes submissive.

"good boy." eren purrs.

then, unexpectedly, he brings armin's mouth to his, kissing him deeply. armin's taken back momentarily, but kisses him back and welcomes his hot tongue in his mouth.

armin can taste you on his tongue. eren’s lips on his sends a hot wave of arousal to his cock. this entire thing just confirmed for the both of them that they are not straight.

the scene in from of you should not be as arousing as it is. seeing your boyfriend kiss his best friend with such passion should not be lighting a spark in your lower stomach. but it does.

armin's out of breath when eren pulls away, his eyes full of lust and lips wet from eren's tongue. eren gives him a pat on the back like he didn't just make out with him, encouraging him to climb over you.

armin quickly pulls off his remaining layer before hovering over your body. his eyes are glossy with arousal as he scans them over your face and chest. his cock rests heavy on your pelvis as his forearms come to brace beside your head.

"is this okay?" he whispers.

with a soft smile you nod, wrapping your legs around his waist. you appreciate his concern, but right now you just really need him inside you.

armin transfers the weight to one forearm as he uses the other to line his cock up with your entrance, sliding it over the slick and pushing it against your hole.

eren has returned to his seat. he's pushed it a little closer, and his cock is back in his hand with his pants down his thighs.

armin hesitates, not because he doesn't want you, but because 'jesus fucking christ he's about to fuck you'

"jesus, armin, put it in... can't you see how bad she needs it?" eren seethes.

armins eyes flit to the brunette boy for only a moment before coming back to yours. and then he's pushing his cock inside you, stretching you out and filling you up with a groan.

"fuck." you mewl, hands coming around his neck as his arm settles back beside you.

he slowly pushes all the way until his hips are flush against yours. maybe he's a little longer than eren... because you can feel him in your throat.

"armin, oh my god." you whimper, grinding your hips against his to try and alleviate the pressure in your abdomen.

"how's he feel, y/n." eren asks, voice all low and dripping arousal.

"he- fuck- he's so big." you cry, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut.

armin's never thought of himself to be big... he wasnt small obviously, but big never really crossed his mind. hearing you say that his cock is big has him twitching inside you and sending more blood rushing south.

"yeah? he good enough for you, pretty girl?"

"yeah- fuck yeah- it's so good."

armin's barely moved but he can feel your cunt clench down and around him, squeezing him all tight and hot. it's got his brain in a fog.

"fuck me armin, please, please." you beg, voice wavering as you dig your blunt nails into the base of his neck.

with slow but deep thrusts, armin begins to move. he pulls himself all the way out before sliding his cock back through you slowly.

it's almost to much for him. you're so warm and wet and tight, your body pressed up against him and moans falling from your lips with every drag of his cock along your walls.

and then he felt so indescribably good inside you, every vein and curve of his cock sliding through your wet cunt. he was hitting places eren never has before... it has you completely overcome by pleasure. the stretch and thickness of his cock wasn’t as intense, but you still felt insanely full.

“armin, how’s her pussy feel?” eren groans, then he spits into his hand again to give himself some more slack as he continues to jerk his thick cock.

armin takes a moment to think, pathetically hesitating as he tries to form words in his head to describe how he’s feeling right now.

“so - so fucking good.” he groans, slapping his hips a little harder into you when he finishes his sentence.

he could feel the wetness of your cunt as he fucks his cock into you, the slick coating his own hips. the way your tits bounced with every thrust had him picking up his pace, he just wanted to see it more and more, and over and over. he was completely infatuated with you.

desperately, he brings his head down and kisses you. it’s sloppy, and wet, and hot. his tongue now confident as he licks into your open mouth and swallows your whines.

“fucking christ, armin. if you could see her arch right now...” eren groans, his head falling back onto the back of the chair, “the way you’re kissing her - fuck - has her shaking.”

eren’s cock throbs with every moan and every quiver of your legs. he never thought that watching his best friend fuck you would have him this on edge so quickly. the way you’re reacting to armin has his own legs tightening, chest heaving as he breathes through his teeth.

eren’s words only push armin further, confidence surging through him. his arm lifts off the bed and he puts the hand around your throat. immediately, he feels your walls tighten around him as your heartbeat flutters under his fingers.

“yes, yes, please.” you moan, taking his forearm in both your hands and feeling the muscles flex underneath your palm.

armin’s jaw slacks, he watches the way your pupils expand and your mouth falls open as he squeezes just enough to have your head feeling full.

you were close again. armin can feel you twitch around him, coating his cock in more slick.

“don’t stop, she’s gonna cum.” eren grunts. he was close too. some tie between the two of you always had you finishing together, and this was no exception.

armin had no idea how he hasn’t cum yet, he thinks he was just too enthralled with your reactions and your face that his body somehow couldn’t process the pleasure.

“im - im cumming.” you hiccup, locking your ankles around his back as he continues to pump his cock into you.

with a voiceless cry, you gush all over his pretty cock, vision going white as you topple over. beside you, eren cums all over his chest and abs with a low groan. but before he can even come down he notices armins hips beginning to falter.

eren pulls his pants up quickly, disregarding the cum over him and stands.

“armin-” he warns.

you drop your legs to the mattress. so he has the freedom to pull out. eren’s on his knees and dimpling the mattress as he climbs behind armin... ready to pull him off if armin lacks the retraint.

then quickly, armins off and out of you, standing on his knees and his cock coated in your release as he takes it in his hands. eren’s behind him, his chest to armin’s back, and then he’s replacing armin’s hand with his.

eren jerks armin’s dick from behind him, kissing the side of his neck gently, until armin’s groaning and cumming all over your stomach. his head dropped back onto eren’s shoulder. eren’s hand is much larger then his own, rough and calloused but coated in his own spit.

“that’s so fucking hot.” you mutter, still panting as you recover from your orgasm.

when armin’s milked dry, he collapses beside you, coated in spit, sweat and cum. eren smiles softly as he crawls to the other side of you on the bed, spooning you and pulling you against him.

you tug armin closer so he faces you, his face close to yours as you bring a leg over his waist. his pretty blue eyes are closed shut as he breathes heavily.

“thank you.” you giggle, pressing a kiss to armin’s nose before turning your head and kissing eren.

“thank you.” armin breathes.

JUNISFICS © 2021

[datawyrms]

Frozen Findings

I did a fic for Minibang as well c: You can also read it on Ao3! And check out the art @skarlettskwrl made c:

 The chill that had infested the Infinite Realms at the news of Pariah’s return was far worse than any cold that could be felt even in their frozen homeland. The unsteady peace everyone had slowly become accustomed to was again teetering on the edge of collapse. Pariah would not have changed during his imprisonment. The King’s mad insistence that all must bow down to only him to be a united front against a world most did not even see first hand would rip the Realms to shreds. Either through fighting amongst themselves, or shoved back again by the living to fight a war on two fronts.

 It took everything for him to keep a brave face for his people, to lead and pretend he had the confidence and ability to pull all of the Far Frozen through another merciless war. Most had tried to forget those times, to forget what had been done to their friends and family that had fallen. The twisted mockery in the oversized skeletons mindlessly following the King’s will. A death in everything but name.

 Frostbite’s arm ached at the memory, and he forced more ice into his mangled limb, ears flat against his head. He couldn’t forget that time, not as a leader. It was too important to let it sink beyond his active thoughts. He had hoped all the others could forget, that they should forget it as an atrocity that could never occur again. So the knowledge of the ability Pariah made use of would be utterly forgotten and lost to even Time.

 A foolish hope, perhaps. A dream more befitting of the living than the dead. He could claim they would shore up their defences and take up arms to push the tyrant back a second time, but he knew the truth. The Far Frozen had endured, not won the last time. Luck had spared them in the end.

 Frostbite had been the third chief to take up the mantle in a mere span of months. He had already picked out a fourth when it became clear the corruption to his arm could not be shrugged off.

 It was pure chance that the mysterious ancient ghosts chose to act before he fell. That he was still able to lead his people into a time of prosperity and renewal. That is why they honoured these ghosts, made murals and carvings to thank them for stopping Pariah’s unyielding hatred. Even if they kept those reminders farther away from their living spaces, a history not everyone had to know so keenly.

 Would those ghosts assist again? If they did, when? Before his people were ravaged and destroyed? Or only after? They would not have the advantage of being distant and unknown to Pariah this time. He would remember the people who repeatedly refused to bend. He would remember who he decided to break.

 Bending now wouldn’t spare them. Pariah was not a forgiving madman. Not that they would. Bowing to such a cause would be an insult to everything they were, healers and protectors, watchers from afar. Not bloodstained warriors that killed all those that stood in the tyrant’s path.

 Most concerning were the rumours that Pariah found—or      made     an heir. Another tyrant to be. Another monster that would know how to twist other ghosts until they broke, no matter how much they resisted. There was an opportunity hidden in that awful news. If the heir apparent was destroyed, Pariah would lose a tool he had invested deeply in. Rage would give him power, yes, but he would be more prone to act recklessly, to be less thorough. Some of his people might be able to escape, go into hiding while the King assumed he had removed all of the Far Frozen from existence.

 It wasn’t a plan for victory. Just survival.

 He did not relish in that option, but the delicate ice medallion held between his claws betrayed his fears. It had been so long since he had made the first one. An age where he had not needed to put the burden of being the surviving successor on another.

 To hand this over to Hailfur would alert all of his people to the danger he felt the Far Frozen were in. The danger that Frostbite did not expect to survive.

 “Chief Frostbite! The Tyrant has sent a messenger!”

 He forced his face to remain still at the news, nodding at the smaller yeti. “Thank you for the swift alert. I will consult with them alone.”

 “Is that wise?”

 “If I do not return, I expect you and the other elder warriors to help evacuate.”

 The yeti seemed to slouch at the order, eyes widening. “Frostbite, surely you don’t want us to abandon you at the first sign of trouble?”

 Frostbite bit back a sigh, grasping the warrior’s hands gently. “Yes, I do. Our people are more important than a single member.” He slowly let go of the other’s claws once he was sure the little medallion was safely in their grasp. The smile he wore was forced, but leaving a fellow Far Frozen with only a frown to remember him by would be unfair to both of them. “Now go.”

 Pariah loved to send ‘messengers’ who liked to make their point with attempts to maim and slaughter. All the more reason to stand alone. If they wanted to use underhanded tactics, they could try it against him. See how far that got them when there were no children to torment.

 He walked with a heavy tread that had nothing to do with the deep snow, tail flicking to obscure his pawprints as he went. Keeping confident would be difficult if he rushed. More time in the brisk wind would help him find his centre and prepare.

 Yet no amount of preparation could make him ready for what he found in the audience cavern. There was no warrior, or a menacing mockery that dwarfed the room waiting for him. Instead there was a child.

 No, no. Not a child. What appeared to be a child, at first glance. The gangly limbs and scruffy mess of hair mimicked someone young well. Yet it couldn’t totally hide what it was. The green eyes might appear curious, but the foul darkened scar across one of them betrayed it. Pariah’s mark, proof of the ghost’s unshaking loyalty. A foul monster trying to prey on Frostbite’s weakness for the young and helpless. It was a sick, twisted trick, and he hated how well it worked. Even the ugly unhealing green scar on it's chest made him feel pity instead of fear.

 Frostbite did not want to strike this creature down. Not while it was so small and hesitant. Once it stopped pretending, he would be fine. He just had to keep telling himself that. He kept his head high to loom over the little monster and spoke much louder than he needed to, so as to better fill the entire cavern with his presence. “So, you requested an audience?”

 The ch- the      thing     gulped and hunched its shoulders, green eyes no longer scanning the walls to focus entirely on him. “Yes, I did.”

 No threats yet, curious. Though this servant might have been ordered to behave more passively to better mimic the child it was pretending to be. “Your audience is granted. I am Frostbite, chief and protector of all the Far Frozen. Whom do I have the pleasure of conversing with?”

 “Oh I’m Da-“ the smaller ghost broke off suddenly, looking at the ground. “Phantom, I guess.”

 Strange. Pariah’s spawn was sticking to childlike behaviour, even when correcting an ‘error’. It put a discomforting pressure in his chest, to be so privately hostile to such a good mimic, and he cursed the tyrant all the more for using such a tactic. He would not break before it did. “Oh, there’s no need for ceremony here, if you prefer another name.”

 “Ceremony? Oh no. It’s just um. Sorry, you probably don’t care about this.”

 “The Far Frozen are known for their patience, do not hesitate on my account. I would like to know who you are, after all.”

 Phantom still looked small, shoulders hunched as he considered the reassurance. “It’s just my friends said that’s not who I am…so I’m not using it for now. I don’t want to upset them more.”

 Friends? Pariah did not have friends, did not tolerate his servants to make ‘worthless’ connections that could not be exploited for future gains. Yet this ghost had some elaborate fiction about having some at one point. Before being bound to the tyrant’s will, perhaps. Allowed to ‘remember’ such a thing just to burrow into his fur and bite past his defences. “I am sorry to hear your relationships seem to be strained, young Phantom. Come, we will sit and discuss the message you have brought.” He meant what he said, even though he should not. This was not an upset child. This was an assassin, an enemy. Curse his weakness, curse Pariah to stoop so low as to make such a tool.

 The boy followed as Frostbite took his place at the circular table, but hovered uncertainly at the frosty pillow on the floor.

 “Do you require heat to be comfortable?” An easy lie it could tell, just to test the waters.

 Instead the servant hung his head, legs melting into a tail that he slowly began to wrap around himself. “I guess I don’t anymore.”

 “If you do not feel at ease even if you are not cold, we have blankets you may make use of.”

 “That might be nice? Uh.” Phantom hesitates again, not moving. “I don’t need it, it’s okay.”

 Doesn’t want one because it might slow him down when he decides to attack? All the more reason to insist and be a good host. Frostbite only needs two steps to reach the basket resting against a wall, plucking a light blue fuzzy blanket from the top. “Would this do?” Instead of letting the boy answer, he sets the blanket around the small ghost’s shoulders and steps back.

 He’s not upset. Instead he clings to the blanket and wraps it around himself, hiding the scar on his chest and that weird one piece outfit of his. It amusingly makes Phantom look taller, the blanket trailing down to the ground and hiding his tail. “Thanks.” Instead of speaking further the boy busied himself in sitting comfortably, very focused on the fabric and the floor instead of Frostbite.

 It was strange. Too convincing, wasting too much time instead of doing the job it was sent to do. He had to push his tongue against one of his canines, hoping the pain might help clear his head. That white haired ghost is not a helpless child that needs protecting. He does not need to give it something to fiddle with or snack on. All he has to do is listen to its threats, and get rid of it. Permanently, if at all possible.  “My apologies for the distraction. We can discuss your message now.”

 Phantom refused to look up, mumbling a little as he fiddled with the corners of the blanket. Stalling for time?

 Time was more on his side than Pariah’s goon, so Frostbite allowed for the delay, letting the silence inside thicken as the wind screamed just outside the comfortable cavern.

 Phantom finally cracked, a long breath escaping him before he spoke. “I know that Pariah was a monster to you guys. So I know this kind of sounds bad? I don’t like what he did.” His voice remained boyish, hesitant as he ran sentences together. In a rush, concerned of what reaction he would earn. “What I read was awful. Really gross. I-I don’t want him to start doing that again.”

 Frostbite raised an eyebrow at the blatant disloyalty. This was a new sort of strategy, acting like they were allies when they were anything but. Still, he would allow the creature to continue. There was no point in interrupting when he clearly hadn’t even gotten to the point yet.

 “So um I came to talk? He doesn’t watch everything- he didn’t destroy Amity Park as long as I uh. Made sure they didn’t do anything to try and fight him.” Phantom’s voice was barely above a mumble as he reached the end of his sentence, hand clamped tight to the back of his neck. “It wasn’t good but no one died? They don’t like me much, but at least they’re still alive to hate me, you know?”

 “You sound as if you wish to convince yourself more than me, young one.”

 He flinched, managing to somehow look even smaller in the blanket that dwarfed him. “They’re alive, that’s what matters. It doesn’t matter if I’m,” his voice cracked “not welcome there.”

 Do not comfort the ghost. All it’s doing is trying to make surrender sound ‘good’. Yet his arms ached to scoop the ghost up and allow him to sob into his shoulder. Why did he have to look so young, sound so sincere?

 “I think I can convince Pariah to leave you guys alone too? If you don’t fight. If you surrender and he’s busy with other places he won’t be able to do…those things again.”

 “So you’re asking my people and I to surrender without a fight, to a tyrant that slaughtered thousands of us to bolster his armies? Based on a poorly made assumption?” Frostbite couldn’t quite hold back a growl at the absolute audacity of this ghost, but at least it helped him stop feeling so worried about the little thing. “Is that your message?”

 “No! Well. Sort of, I just-” he stammered, shrinking back instead of pushing forward. “You know he’ll just do it all again! A-at least this way you’re safe! And not made into mindless skeletons! I don’t want that to happen again!” Phantom looked up instead of away as he denied Frostbite’s disgust, eyes burning with an energy that he had lacked before this moment. “I won’t ask you guys to fight or do anything for Pariah. If he doesn’t like it, t-tough! He should have thought of that before letting me take care of parts of his kingdom!”

 That changed a few things. Phantom wasn’t just a servant. This little ghost with the body of a child was Pariah’s chosen heir. A monster in waiting. What was worse was the honesty in his voice, the fire in his eyes as he spoke absurdities. “Phantom, you are young, correct? How long have you lived in the Infinite Realms?”

 He blinked, brow furrowing in confusion at the question. “I didn’t really live here before Pariah wouldn’t let me leave. Uhh. A few months?”

 No wonder he said such things. This ghost was practically an infant. Someone snared into Pariah’s web before he even had a chance to be his own person. A cruel, tragic fate. “Then I will ask you this. If we agreed to your suggestion, and then Pariah told you he would go back on your agreement, what do you think you could do to stop him?”

 “He couldn’t! It would be an agreement-”

 “With you. A servant. Breaking your word will not hurt him, nor would it stop him. He was not called a tyrant without cause, child. Pariah broke vows and shrugged off the consequences because he decided he was right to do so. If you truly think you could stop him, you would not already belong to him.”

 Something in the boy broke then, clutching at his chest as he sagged where he sat. “N-No. If I can’t keep anyone safe, what’s the point?”

 “This Amity Park you mentioned, Pariah’s ‘promised’ to allow you to protect it?”

 A mute nod.

 “Boy. You must be aware that you cannot defy Pariah. No matter how you feel.”

 “I can’t say what I want, sometimes. That doesn’t mean I think what he wants or just do everything he wants!” A pathetic sort of defence, but a useful one for the yeti to make his point.

 “If you cannot even speak freely, do you really think you will have a choice if he commands you to destroy the place you protect?”

 The shudder that passed through the boy’s slumped form said more than enough. Of course he’d never considered such a thing. Of course he was already primed to obey and not question his ‘parent’, thinking trust was something that would go both ways. An innocent mistake that would grow and twist this fired up child into a thoughtless executor of the king’s will. The kindest thing would be to free him while he was still not entirely the king’s.

 “I didn’t think he could, all the things I read-” Phantom mumbled, still not moving, “Why did I just believe that? I’m so stupid.”

 He should still be wary that this was a trap, a trick, but the pain looked too real to be an act. Frostbite did his best to step lightly, crouching down next to Phantom’s blanketed form. “Being manipulated by a being far greater than you is not your fault.”

 “I didn’t mean to insult you, I really thought I could-” he paused as Frostbite gently nudged him against his furred shoulder. “I wanted it to work.”

 He let the boy clutch at his fur, lifting him gently and holding him close. It was unfair, and he would despise himself for this. Yet it was the only kind thing he could do for Phantom. Freedom was forever out of his grasp. He would make it as painless as he could. “I know. You understand why we cannot just give up, yes?”

 “Uhhuh.” A sniff, like the boy was doing his best not to actually cry.

 Not that it mattered, with him this close Frostbite’s keen ears could the distress deep in his chest, the very core of his being shaken by a reality he had been unable to consider on his own. It was the best place to aim, and the boy was so very small. One accurate ice claw through the back would be more than enough. “I do not blame you.”

 He mumbled something that sounded like a thanks, keeping still in the warm embrace. Unaware and too distracted with shame to notice how Frostbite’s grip had subtly changed.

 This wasn’t hurting him. It was a quick hurt, a much kinder fate. Pariah would lose an heir and a puppet in one blow. Phantom would not be twisted into a monster his current self would despise. He was just so small, so open that it was agony to think about what he was doing. He shouldn’t hesitate like this. Yet there was something buried in the shock and sadness crying from Phantom’s chest. A second sound, an emotionless sound that did not keep in time with the rest of him.

 That shouldn’t happen. Shouldn’t really be possible to occur, not without the ghost suffering greatly for being so incohesive at their heart of hearts. Frostbite stayed his claws and cocked his ears, trying to better make sense of the sound. “Young one, I hear something strange. Are you aware of why your self is not in harmony?”

 “No?” The question finally made him stir, looking up at Frostbite instead of staying burrowed in his fur. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 Phantom was a painfully young ghost, to not have even a hint of what he was being asked. Frostbite just had to find the word humans liked to use, to help him understand. “Ah, your ‘self’. I think humans liked to say they felt things with their hearts? Think of it like that, but you feel and think with it as a ghost.”

 “So you’re saying I have a weird…heartbeat? Or ghost heart thing.” Phantom tilted his head, his curiosity quieting the worst of the pained noise within him.

 The second sound was still there. Weak and slow, but present and unchanging despite how the ghost’s mood had shifted. An unnatural separation that the child somehow didn’t notice, didn’t seem pained by. How much he should clarify was difficult. The child would have to speak if the ghost king demanded he do so. This division, this abnormality would not be tolerated. Not when Pariah’s control rested on knowing how to twist and manipulate the ‘self’ so completely that even the conscious mind would fall in line no matter how much the servant detested the tyrant.

 If this child had another self, another place that stored his wants and feelings, maybe his absurd boast could be more than that. “Something like that. Do you remember having something like that before Pariah? When you still had that other name, had those friends you mentioned?”

 Phantom untangled himself a little at the question, pain clear in his averted eyes and clenched teeth. “Only when I was alive.”

 That didn’t make sense. He had assumed the child had been exaggerating, or simply couldn’t remember thanks to the Tyrant deciding Phantom should be a potential successor. Throwing an old life away to better suit the king certainly wouldn’t be the worst that monster had done.  “You were never a ghost before Pariah?”

 “Not completely? I was kinda both human and ghost at the same time. Not that I can prove it anymore.” Phantom frowned. “Why do you care anyway? You were mad at me, like, a few seconds ago. Because I can’t help anyone.”

 “It was not anger at you. It was anger at what had been done to you, fate pushed on you.” A small fib, considering his assumption the child was acting at first. With him this close, heart so open, it was much easier to know all his childlike actions were just natural ones. “Would you mind waiting a moment while I fetch a tool to help you hear what I am hearing? Just to see if it is familiar to how you felt when you still lived.”

 “Sure?” Another pause as the smaller ghost pulled the blanket closer around himself. “You aren’t um. Going to get something to hurt me, or something, right?”

 “No, no. If I meant you harm, I would not need extra assistance.” Not that the child had to know how close he had been to finding that out in a very final matter. Still, a little more caution on his part would not be misplaced.

 Though he can hardly chide about caution, knowingly leaving one of Pariah’s servants unattended for any length of time. He was fairly sure it was safe, considering how little the boy seemed to know, how freshly dead and innocent the tyrant had chosen to leave him. Frostbite did make sure to look back at least twice, just in case there was some buried order to make the child into an attacking monster when ‘left alone’.

 Phantom was still wrapped up in the blanket when he returned with the stethoscope, and barely looked like he’d moved even an inch. It was almost as if the Realms itself was laughing at his paranoia. This little wisp of a boy being a wild danger? Yet appearances could be deceiving. If only he knew why Pariah had chosen this child of all ghosts to be an heir after refusing so many others. Perhaps the strange second sound was related.

 “I only need to press this against you; there’s no sharp edges or poking, see?”

 Instead of looking reassured, Phantom scowled and crossed his arms. “I know what a stethoscope is, I’m not five.”

 “Then that makes things easier. Not all ghosts would know how this works.” Perhaps Phantom was under the impression all ghosts had once been human. Frostbite moved slowly, to appear less frightening and the boy didn’t try to jerk away at the gentle pressure on his chest.

 He sounded like a healthy ghost. Loud, expressive, a tangled weave of feelings and the thoughts chained to them. A full spectrum of them ready to be drawn on at need. That wasn’t why Frostbite wanted to listen though. Instead he focused on the strange thumping nothingness burbling below the energetic emotions. It was even clearer with the aid. Even less keen ears should be able to hear how out of place it was. “Here, you should be able to hear it.”

 Phantom took the stethoscope, but hesitated at actually putting part of it near his ears. Frostbite had to suppress a chuckle. The once living and their strange ideas that a body should be constantly making a mess was always amusing.

     “Is it meant to be this noisy?” He winced, pulling away only moments after finally placing the ear tips correctly.

 “In a healthy ghost, yes. I did tell you that was the most important part of you. It sings and speaks of your emotions and more. Try closing your eyes and focusing.”

 Phantom kept frowning, but gingerly put it back on correctly and shut his eyes. The way his brow creased showed he was still having trouble, or was somewhat confused, but Frostbite could wait. If the boy had never heard his true ‘self’ as a ghost before, all the more reason he should try now. Perhaps he could hear the wrongness Pariah twisted into him as well as the strange emotionless thud.

 “Is that my heartbeat? I couldn’t feel that anymore.” Green eyes begged for a positive answer, even as his fingers curled even tighter into the blanket. “Ghosts…don’t usually have this?” Phantom moved one of his hands, pressing it against his chest as if he expected to feel the sound though all of his ectoplasm.

 “Not without an associated emotion or thought, no. An empty thud like that has no place in a ghost. You can hear me, if you like.” Frostbite adjusted his cloak slightly as he scooped Phantom back off of the pillow. There was no reason to hide the want to protect, to care for that would be the loudest cries that an untrained ear could understand.

 He hesitated, but listened again as Frostbite moved the stethoscope. “You sound…warm? But you’re covered in ice?”

 “Of course. We’re all complicated, and you’re only hearing the surface. With practice you could understand how everything connects, but you are young. You can hear how there is no sound without accompaniment though, correct?” Frostbite gently took the tool away, watching how the child mulled it over.

 Phantom pressed his hand against his wrist, waiting and frowning after a few seconds. “I don’t feel it at all. If I could hear my heart, I should be able to feel it.”

 “You said you were both human and ghost at once before. What would happen if you were badly injured?”

 “I’d turn human again? Pass out sometimes?” Phantom said, still distracted by trying to ‘feel’ the sound in his body.

 Frostbite could only hope his small theory might be correct. “What if that human side of yours was hurt?”

 “I don’t know? Ghosts didn’t usually bug me when I was human.”

 “Pariah told you that you had died fully, correct?”

 “He sort of implied it, yeah.” Phantom bit his lip, uncomfortable again. “I haven’t been able to be human either. Even when I kept trying.”

 “Well, Pariah likely hopes he killed you completely, yet you are an odd sort of ghost. Being both human and a ghost seems to be your natural state.”

 “Or was.”

 “Pariah might have spared you from death, but he may have underestimated you.” Frostbite said, giving him a gentle pat. “That sound, your ‘heart’, might be a hint towards that. You were horribly injured before he ‘saved’ you, I assume.”

 “I think so? I was just afraid and heard his voice—I- I didn’t want to die.”

 “Shh. Of course you didn’t.” The hug was easy to give, to help steady the shaking child. “So you are recovering, and he has kept you in the Infinite Realms. It makes sense that your ghost half would recover first, so you could move and act again even if not back to ‘normal’.”

 “Do you really think I might get it back?” His question was low and cautious, as if he feared the answer. “That I’m not really dead?”

 “I cannot say for sure, but I know ectoplasm can alter living creatures. The possibility of becoming a mixture of both is not that strange. It also explains how you can manage to survive with an empty sound in your very being.” It would be wrong to promise something he could not guarantee, but it felt like the most likely option. Phantom didn’t have a reason to make up something as strange as being human and ghost at the same time.

 “Will it help? I don’t want to just…turn into what my father wants.” Phantom winced at the ‘slip’, a frustrated groan escaping him

 “Pariah may have you under his control as a ghost, but perhaps if you have time to recover completely you can leverage that humanity against his commands. It is clearly separate and distinct from his meddling.”

 “You really think so? I could stop him from breaking promises?”

 “Remember, he did best you. It is still likely he could overpower you and put you ‘back in line.’” Frostbite said, even as Phantom sagged a little at the lack of good news. “If you are careful, you might be able to relearn how to lie to him.”

 “What’s that good for? Who cares about lying?”

 “Listen, Phantom. Pariah has no reason to ever think anything you say is false. As far as he is aware, you cannot lie. You cannot hide things from him. Do you understand what that means?”

 The boy’s brow creased as he thought about it. “He’d have no idea if my friends were planning something? If I wasn’t…destroying their stuff anymore?”

 Frostbite smiled, nodding to encourage him. “Exactly. If you really do not want to harm people, you could simply lie. As far as he knows, it will be the truth. Unless you do something foolish, like lie about something he can easily check.”

 “Okay. I’ll figure it out. Thanks.” Phantom started fidgeting, his dull glow brightening as he looked around. “So um. We didn’t actually meet yet, right? I went somewhere else.”

 “Well little one, if you say you went to check on your friends, it would not be a lie.” The more he helped this young one, the better chance they all had. “Just keep light on the details, and you’ll be fine.”

 Phantom finally smiled at that, a full one showing his teeth. “Thanks, Frostbite. I kinda really need friends right now.”

 “I can only hope you reunite with the others you might have lost soon. Be careful out there—most ghosts in my position would not have let you leave.”

 He frowned and half covered his left eye, nodding. “Maybe you can explain to other ghosts? That I’m not like him?”

 Frostbite chuckled, though it was bitter on his tongue. “Perhaps, but most would call me a fool for giving you that chance. Or say I only ‘fell’ for it because you are so young. Again, practice caution and keep your head down. You do not know how long it will take for you to heal.”

 Phantom nodded once before giving the yeti one final hug. It was quick; he backed away after only a few seconds as if embarrassed and gave a small wave before darting back out into the cold.

 It might be a mistake in the end, a foolish moment of weakness and hope, but it felt much better inside. He did not have to be a murderer this day, and he might have helped save the young one. For now he would have to focus on his duties and prepare the others for war. Phantom may not mean harm, but Pariah could not be far behind.

[yourfellowhuman07]

Where Do We Go Now?

A She-ra: Princess of Power 2018 fanfiction

The war is finally over. Prime is dead, the hive mind is broken, and everyone is reunited with their loved ones. However, there are some questions left unanswered. What will be the fate of Catra and Hordak? What are these new memories Wrong Hordak has? What is Etheria's place in the wider universe? Where do we go now?

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Hello everyone, it's chapter 23. Once again, thank you for all the reception I've gotten on both of my fics. I love you all.

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Chapter 23: The Thought of a Name

Everyone sat at a long table in one of the old dining rooms in the Crypto Castle. Thankfully, to cooking staff was still in the Crypto Castle and were caught off guard to suddenly have 9 more people to cater for. Though, they were thankful to make things other than sugary confectionaries. Per the recommendation of Hordak and TD, they made a simple soup so it will be easier for the clones to get used to eating actual food rather than the liquid rations they were given. The clones were initially very sheepish to consume the meal before them, but with some encouragement from their older brothers, they eventually caved and even enjoyed the new sensations created on their pallets. Along with the soup, the horde trio was given more solid foods such as some pork and bread, which they could handle from getting a hot meal for dinner while in the Etherian Horde. Entrapta and Imp had the same things only on a smaller scale.

Then the door hissed open to let in a bot caring a large stack of thick files. The group fell silent as they watched the bot awkwardly weel over to Entrapta.

“What are those?” Lonnie pointed her fork at the teetering stack of files.

“Forms so you all can become citizens of Dryl. Only if you want to of course. Though you all could fill them out once you are done eating.”

“Wait does that mean we have to actually pay taxes now?”

“Of course. Did you not pay taxes in the Fright Zone?”

“In the Fright Zone, you did not have to pay any taxes if you were a part of the army,” Hordak explained.

“Wait, how are we and the rest of the clones supposed to pay, we have no money,” TD asked, the other four clones nodded. 

“We could always take whatever money Prime left behind. As his son, I would be the sole beneficiary of whatever funds he had since he never drafted any Will, so I could take whatever money he had and divide it up between all the other clones and me.” Hordak suggested.

“Are we allowed to take his money,” JJ asked.

“I doubt it really matters when he is you know… dead,” LD commented.

“Either way we will manage, now let’s go ahead and start so it will be over with faster.” An unsurprising fact about Hordak is that he hated paperwork, which is why he often saddled his second-in-command with the bulk of it. Now, he did not have that option. I mean, he appreciated the organizational aspect of it, but he saw most paperwork as a waste of time and resources. He found that electronic forms are much more practical and less time-consuming. However, at this point, his stances on paperwork scarcely mattered.

Once all the dishes were taken up, the files were all handed out. Then a problem presented itself on the first page.

“Um… what do we put down for our names?” JJ asked. All five brothers looked to Hordak. He sucked up air through his teeth as he contemplated a possible response.

“Entrapta, is the name changeable in the future?”

“Yes.”

“Then for now, just put the two letters we call each other for your first name.”

“What about last names, are those required?” ZD inquired.

“They are required they’re probably the most important out of all three names. Also, the middle name is optional.”

“What should our last name be then?” JD asked.

This simple question sparked a long debate that probably lasted longer than it should have. The men first agreed they should all share a last name since they were brothers, which created even more problems. The idea of having the last name ‘Prime’ was immediately shot down. Then LD suggested they should go for a space-themed name and suggested the last name ‘Starsweeper’ which was quickly dismissed by Hordak. They went through hundreds of names, and they took so long everyone else had left, leaving the brothers alone.

“Can’t we just do a simple name like ‘Smith’,” ZD exclaimed.

“Not happening.” LD retorted.

“How about the last name ‘Lightyear’?” Hordak suggested.

“You know what,” JD tossed his pen on the paper, “might as well.” All the other clones agreed and jotted down the name and went on to fill out the rest of the paperwork.

The only brother that did not continue was Hordak, whose eyes were fixated on the first two lines where his name was supposed to be. It was not like he did not have anything to put, he had two names. Hundreds if you count all the things he has been called by people, even though most are insults. He was stuck on the order of them. When he first laid eyes on those three lines he knew he wanted to use the name his mother gave him. It was a sign of respect and to honor her memory. Even though not a day goes by where she pops into his head at random. When it happens it isn’t terrible, but it is never pleasant.

Back to his name, he did not know which name should go first. On one hand if ‘Hordak’ is first he would be more recognizable, and people could easily identify what name he wanted to be called. On the other hand, making ‘Orion’ his first name would be more respectful of his mother, and it is common for people to go by their middle names. After much thought and debate, he landed on a name: Orion Hordak Lightyear.

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Entrapta sat in her lab repairing one of her bots when a survey droid came in frantically beeping, telling her to come to look outside. She and the bot ran to the nearest window. Initially, she saw nothing until she saw a swarm of people crowding around the base of the mountain.

[wri0thesley]

Nat. NAT. I just saw your concept about naoya "training" his wife by just throwing her in the room and just watching her struggle to defend herself... Until she ofc breaks and begs him to protect her🙈 you have a MASSIVE brain, the biggest and horniest brain nat can you please write this concept for the event😭😭 maybe w 45 and any other dark or spicy add ons that you see fit!

traditional discipline - naoya x fem!reader (3.3k)

naoya has had enough of you, and resorts to an unusual method of discipline.

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. DARK CONTENT. unhealthy relationship/marriage. fearplay, dacryphilia, finger-sucking, cock-sucking, punishment, threat of violence and death. dubious consent. afab reader with fem pronouns. 

[a/n: this concept literally wouldn’t leave me alone. i’m sorry to all of the readers who are naoya’s wife i’m always so horrible to them]

The room goes quiet as Naoya hauls you out of it by your upper arm.

It’s an easy mistake, a simple slip-up; accidentally talking over your husband. But it’s one in a slew you’ve been making recently, despite Naoya thinking that you were polite and well-bred and knew your place. He’s sick of it, to be quite frank; he doesn’t have time to be correcting you when you should already know how to behave.

You’ve done accidental, small things since the two of you were married. Denying him when he rolled you onto your back at night. Not standing quite as far behind him as you should. Pouring tea for other people before him. He’s given you swift reprimand with both his words and his hands, but . . . it’s clearly not sinking into your pretty little head, is it?

He warned you about this.

“Next time,” he’d growled to you, when you’d laughed too loud at a joke that one of his brothers had made and not laughed at one of his, “I’m going to teach you a real lesson.”

He tells you about the ‘training and discipline room’ on the Zenin estate later that night. A room that the family use for honing cursed techniques, both for practising and for learning purposes, when someone needs to be brought down a peg or two. It’s full of cursed spirits – all the way up to grade two, which makes your blood run cold.

Of course, you have cursed energy. You even have a careful little technique; one that would wrap your enemies up in vines, if you’d ever been allowed to train to use it for anything other than keeping your well-appointed garden neat and orderly. Naoya would not have married someone without either of those things, lest they not bear him fruitful children--

But you have never been allowed to use it for anything more.

The women of your clan are pretty decoration, with no need to learn anything other than how to behave and how to please their masters-and-husbands. You would be useless, thrown into the den of the wolves like that.

“Please don’t,” you’d said to him, your voice all soft and gentle, trying to be appeasing. “Please. I promise I’ll try harder.”

Naoya had taken your chin between thumb and forefinger, the grin across his face very sharp as his light eyes took in the pleading in your own gaze. You remember how the light had hit his earrings, the look of satisfaction at your begging and having you utterly and completely under his thumb.

“Be good,” he’d breathed, all slow and drawling. “And I won’t have to, will I?”

And he’d bid you to get on your knees for him and show you just how good you could be. Starting with your mouth.

So you know where he’s dragging you, down the labyrinthine halls of the estate. You try and pull back, feet sliding on the tatami mat, your voice pitching as you say;

“Naoya, please, I’m sorry--”

“Women should be seen and not heard,” he says to you. “Don’t make a fuss like that. You earned this.”

Your eyes are filling with tears, hot fear clawing its way up your throat.

“I’ll do anything,” you say to him, despite knowing that it’s a dangerous bargain to give him. He almost considers it for a moment, pausing – but then, his fingers just dig harder into the softness of your bicep (you’re going to bruise), and he tugs you.

“You’re making a scene,” he says. “If you don’t stop, I’ll leave you in there even longer.” You try to wrench your arm out of his grip, all of your self-defense mechanisms going into overdrive as you recognise the door he’s leading to you too. You’re breathless, so frightened you think that your heart might stop.

Naoya opens the door and pulls you in. You almost stumble at the flight of stairs, but he clicks his tongue at you in annoyance.

“So clumsy,” he drawls. “And here I was, under the impression I was marrying a graceful, lovely, credit to her family--” More steps, until he’s gotten you in the middle of the floor. He gazes around him, and you hear the low hum of a hundred cursed spirit’s voices murmuring the same things, over and over again. “The only time you’re a credit to them is with your legs spread.”

“Naoya,” you whimper, torn between pushing yourself into him for the comfort and protection that you know he can offer, or trying to tear away from him and escape the room yourself. You know the second option won’t work – he’s far faster, far stronger than you – but it’s hard to think of anything when you feel like your very survival is teetering impossibly over your head.

“If you run,” he says, still in that cold, uninterested drawl, “I’ll break one of your ankles.”

You don’t think he’s bluffing. Naoya says a lot of things, yes – but he’s also reckless and proud enough to mean them. You stand there, next to him, feeling yourself begin to tremble.

“W-why aren’t they attacking yet?” You ask him, voice very small. He looks at you pityingly.

“They’re afraid of me, obviously,” he says to you, very slowly, like he’s explaining it to somebody very stupid. “I didn’t get this good at everything by not training myself, darling.” He lets go of you, finally, a whistle escaping his pursed mouth as he rocks on the balls of his feet. He’s supremely unconcerned by your fear. “When I’m gone, they’ll come out for you.”

Your eyes fill with tears.

“What am I supposed to do?” You ask him, desperation leaking into your cracked voice. “I can’t—I can’t protect myself--”

Naoya narrows his eyes.

“You should have thought about that before you were such a pain,” he replies. And, without further ado, he turns around and begins to ascend the stairs again. You turn with him, moving forward, stumbling in your haste and ending up sprawled at the bottom of the stairs with your hand pathetically fisted into the hem of his hakama.

He looks down at you with a disgusted sneer on his face, and you hate that even with that expression his features are still unmistakably handsome.

“Let go,” he says. “Have some dignity.”

“Please,” you repeat. You can feel a fat tear spilling from the corner of your eye down the curve of your cheeks. You know the ‘dignity’ statement is a dig; the fact that you’ve heard his family members calling your clan power-hungry undignified gold-digging whores, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you can see the beginning of shadows spilling out too far into the main floor of the room. “Naoya. Please.”

He kicks out at your wrist, face twisted in distaste, and you let go to avoid it being stood on and crushed under his strength. You cradle it against your chest, looking up at him still all desperate and afraid.

“If I helped,” he said to you, “you’d never learn your lesson.” He takes a step up and turns away completely from you, as if you’re nothing more than an ignored child on the street. “It will be good for you, beloved wife. Character-building.” You hear the smirk in his voice and you hate him.

You want to strangle him. You want to beg him to protect you. You want to tear him limb from limb, but you want him to let you bury your head in his chest as he dispels the spirits with ease. You want--

The door slams shut behind him. He’s too cheerful as he throws behind him;

“Good luck!”

And you are left alone.

It takes a moment before anything slithers out from the shadows, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming. The first cursed spirit is a hunched over creature with the face of a Pierrot clown, mouth stretched impossibly wide with gaping black abyss where eyes ought to be. It’s whispering something over and over to itself, but the wide mouth is so crowded with teeth that it comes out as an incomprehensible noise, dripping drool as it begins to move horrifically slowly towards you.

Oh, God. You’re not supposed to look at them, are you? You dimly recall something about many sorcerers wearing glasses so the creatures can’t tell where their gazes are, but this one has already got the scent of you; those dark pits staring at your crumpled form.

Everything you’ve ever been told in passing about jujutsu and cursed spirits and cursed technique just seems to flow out of your mind to be replaced by mind-numbing fear. You’ve not been trained for this; when your clan had arranged your marriage with Naoya, you know that they’d expected fine silken kimonos and traditional food and you being a pretty trophy on the arm of the future leader of their clan. You know they’d be horrified if they saw what was happening.

More of them are melting from the shadows, the whispering and moaning reaching a terrifying crescendo. You’re trembling. Your heart is beating so fast inside of your chest you think it might break free of your ribcage and sputter out onto the floor.

The Pierrot monster is close enough that you can see the six hands it drags on the floor are all tipped with claws that are sharp as blades. You scramble up the stairs on your ass, too afraid to turn your back on the creatures. You realise you’re shouting, but it seems just as blurred as anything that the cursed spirits are saying. You’re crying, too – howling, whimpering, so scared you’re surprised any noise is able to come out at all.

You’re going to die.

It hits you with cruel certainty as you reach the top and throw your weight at the door, only for it to not give an inch. You scramble at the heavy wood, not caring about your careful manicure (Naoya wants you to be a credit to him, and that means manicures and facial treatments and a fancy bathroom full of soaps and creams that he expects you to use and that he slathers, too, on himself). You hear a nail break but you can’t bring yourself to worry about that when the Pierrot monster is dragging itself up the flight of stairs, one step at a time. It makes a hideous sliding thump, like it’s both wet and heavy – and you notice, too, the scent of blood invading your senses.

Your tear-blurred eyes can see all of the other monsters, too – not quite as close, but still too close for comfort. Too many eyes and not enough eyes, too many legs, claws and teeth and misshapen bones and blood leaking from holes. What are you supposed to do?

Naoya has left you here, alone, to teach you a lesson. You hadn’t realised the lesson would culminate in your death, but with all of the spirits so close to you, you cannot see any other way.

All of the fight goes out of you and you sag against the door, a broken sob escaping your lips. Your throat is dry from hoarse screaming.

You are going to die. You hope it will come quick; you hope the Pierrot monster will tear you limb from limb and you’ll die in instants from the shock. Your voice whispers Naoya’s name one last, hopeless time.

Will he find another wife? Will they even bother covering up your death, or will they spin some rumour or lie to your family and the whole of jujutsu society that you brought it upon yourself?

You would do anything to be rescued right now. You would crawl on your hands and knees behind Naoya for the rest of your life, refer to him only as ‘Master’, fulfil every single thing he ever asked you with no more than a meek nod of your head. Pull out your tongue so you couldn’t make any more mistakes.

But the time for pleading seems to have gone entirely, and you are useless and stupid and weak as you run out of tears, eyes burning. All you can do, you think, is wait for death.

The door swings open behind you and you’re dragged backwards, onto tatami, by powerful hands gripping your shoulders as it closes once more with a massive clunk that echoes in your ears--

And you find yourself strewn out on the floor, face caked with dried tear-tracks, a trembling, pathetic mess looking up at your husband’s face.

He leans against the door, listening to you scream. He can hear his name mixed in with sobs and screams and pleading; saying that you’ll do anything, you’re sorry, you’ll never disobey him again you’ll take any punishment he metes out with a smile on your face, if he just helps you. He hears you call yourself weak and pathetic and useless around the tears clogging your throat; he hears the thump of you hitting the door and the sound of your nails scratching down the wood, uncaring of anything other than getting away from them.

Yes, he thinks as he opens the door for you and you fall, shivering and sobbing, in front of him. Yes, he thinks you’ve learnt your lesson.

You’re so pretty, he thinks, closing it once more (he sees the cursed spirits begin to creep back to where they came from at the very sight of him, now their preferred victim is protected), with your eyes all glassy and wet. You’re extra pretty looking at him like he’s a conquering hero who’s saved you from certain death – which he supposes he is.

You cling to his arm, pulling yourself up, burying your face in his chest as your hands cling to him like you’ve been lost and he’s the first familiar thing you’ve seen in months. Your tears soak his kimono, but . . . he finds himself not really minding, as big, lean hands pet you gently on the back.

“It’s alright now,” he soothes you, murmuring low. “Your husband has you.”

“Please, please, ‘m so sorry--” You’re mumbling into him, whimpering, your shoulders shaking. “Please never m-make me, again--”

“Shhh,” he continues, gently beginning to move towards his chambers. You cling to him, adrift in a sea of your own fears. “It’s better now. You’ll be better now, won’t you?”

He receives a fierce nod for that, your fingers twisting into his clothing. It’s nice, having you so wrapped around him; seeing him as the strong protector that he knows he is but you needed reminding of. You’re still mewling little pleas into him even as he unlocks the door to his bedroom and gently pushes you in. Letting go of him even for a moment seems to cause you physical pain--

Good. You should feel like that. You should feel incomplete without him at your side. Naoya rewards you with a rare, soft smile.

“You know why you had to be punished like that, don’t you?” He purrs to you, petting your hair and carefully drawing back so he can look at your face. Your lips are all swollen from crying and biting; he thinks you’ve never looked quite so kissable as you do right now.

“Yes,” you nod, fiercely. “I’m sorry. I’ll do a-anything, I promise. I . . .” You swallow, your eyes filling with tears again. Naoya has been hard since the moment he heard you call out his name from inside the training room, your voice filled with choked tears, and watching them well up again does nothing for the stricture against the fabric. “I needed you.”

“And I saved you,” he says, arching an elegant brow – to which you nod again, and your hands drift towards him like you’re aimless without him in front of you to serve. “I’ll protect you, darling, as long as you learn your place.”

“I will!” That’s said with such conviction that he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I will. N-Naoya . . .” Your voice trembles a little. “’m willing to do anything for you. J-just please . . . not again.”

“Shh,” he reaches out and deigns to touch you, to gently and soothingly rub his thumb over your cheek, where the tears have dried. “If you’re really going to be so good for me, I won’t have to, will I?” You stumble forward onto your knees and Naoya’s brows shoot up in surprise as your hands tug at his hakama.

“Please let me show you how grateful I am,” you whisper, your eyes wide and bright and desperate. “Naoya, please, please, please--”

Oh, there’s something so gratifying about you like this, begging to suck his cock. It stirs between his thighs again, reminding him that he’s painfully stiff; and you are here, a willing mouth, scared out of your skull and desperate to please him. He’s smirking at you but you do not register it as such; all you see is the smile of your rescuer.

Your protector.

Your husband.

“Say what you want to do to me, darling,” he tells you, keeping his voice as sweet as he can make it. “You’re a big girl. You can use your words. What do you want to do, to show me how grateful you are that I saved your paltry life?”

You’re pouting; your mouth is sweet, pretty. He wants to pry your jaw open and fuck the back of your throat, and his body roars as your fingers tug on the hakama again and your meek, soft voice whispers;

“Please let me suck your cock.”

“You have a dirty mouth,” he coos to you, leaning forward to brush a finger over your lower lip. “Not befitting of a woman of your station. I suppose that means that it’s up to me to keep you quiet, hmm?”

You obediently open it, letting his finger gently rest on your tongue for a moment.

Desperate to please, your mouth closes about it, your tongue gently swiping over the pad, your cheeks hollowing a little as you suck on the digit inside of them. Naoya’s smiling again, the victorious grin of someone who’s gotten exactly what they wanted. He pulls his finger out and thrusts back in with two, whispering to you;

“Do you think you deserve my cock, after what you put me through today?”

You shake your head, but you don’t stop lavishing attention on the fingers in your mouth, a string of drool falling from the corner of your mouth as he presses his third finger inside of it. So warm, and wet. He needs his cock to be inside of you or he thinks he may embarrass himself.

The fingers are pulled out, wiped on the hakama fabric, before he says (the carefully adopted tone almost disinterested);

“Take them off, then. Don’t make your promises empty words. I wouldn’t appreciate such thoughtlessness in a wife.”

You’re eager, stripping off his clothes. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock; elegant, flushed, hard and straining with a light upwards curve that he knows will hit you in the right place at the back of your throat to make you gag.

“Wait,” he says, as you lean in to bring him to your lips. “What do you say, darling?”

Your eyes (still brimming with tears, he notices – and fuck, he loves how you look teary-eyed and pouting. He has to make you cry more often) meet his, but the look in yours is worshipful so he doesn’t chide you for having the insolence to meet his gaze directly.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For saving me. For letting me suck your cock. For everything.”

Naoya is smiling.

“Good girl,” he says, placidly, as you place a delicate kiss on the head of his cock and slowly envelope it in the warmth of your mouth. “Very good.”