#yeah totally reader

[threepandas]

Bad End: Trust

"Meet your new mates, cargo! Get breeding!"

I didn't understand the bellowed noises at the time. It was just incoherent gibberish. Heaped on top of what was likely a concussion, mixed with what ever drugs they had pumped me with. Thrown into a cell, roughly, and hitting the ground hard. I couldn't have caught myself if I had wanted too. My limbs, unresponsive and dragging meat, that I could barely FEEL.

Please, god, I had thought. Don't let me be paralyzed. Not on top of everything else.

They'll kill me.

Behind and around me, the weeping cries of sorrow and fear rang out. Screams of violence, born of desperation. Countless races, bound together, suffering in this hell. Newly enslaved. I didn't... I couldn't understand. Shaking and struggling to remain conscious, laying on the blood stained floor. The world swayed violently. It was all I could do, to barely keep from passing out.

It was so cold. The air, the floor, the deep and clawing despair, sinking like knives into my gut. Those furry... things, had grabbed me while I was alone, before I could react. W-would anyone notice? Could anyone DO anything? I wanted to get away from the door. Curl up in a corner and... and cry. But I could not move. Like a doll, dropped thoughtlessly on the floor, I could not... could not move.

Tears I likely could not afford, threatened to choke me.

I... I was scared.

Then, deeper in the hovel that was my new home, movement. The heavy clink of chains. Shifting, slow and careful, followed by the drag of metal. A warm hand. Fingers, calloused but careful, checking my neck. My pulse, for injury perhaps, I couldn't tell. But... god, i could have sobbed in relief. They... they felt human.

How terrible of me. That I was GLAD not to be alone. T-That it was relief, to have another person here. Someone who might know what's going on. What to do. To.. to stick with. I... I should wish it was just me, right? That they captured no one else? But... oh god. O-Oh God, I can't! I'm scared. Please. P-please...

I'm so scared.

The person checking me hummed low and soft. Their voice crackling like an old radio that's been left sitting on a shelf too long, unused. How.. how long has it been? Since they last had anyone to talk too? They sounded male, but.. but I didn't want to presume. Could just have a low voice. Throat injury. Might be Trans. I didn't care, couldn't care. I was pretty sure? We were all we had now.

They... no, He, found nothing alarming enough not to move me. Shifting into view as he gently slipped his arms under me. Enough to pick me up and carry me away from the door. He was... is... pretty handsome.

Okay, REALLY handsome.

Horrifically enough? I could see WHY they grabbed him. Athletic as hell, TV ready, really smart. If you were going to ignore ever bit of decency and morality to ever exsist? Might as well go for the best, I guess. Don't know why they grabbed ME, but I guess? They need a stand in or something? Or my predecessor is dead.

(God, I hope she's dead. The alternative...)

Pretty quickly became apparent, though, that one of the main problems (of so, SO many)? Was we don't actually speak the same language. Which... I mean... Well, shit. That's, putting it mildly, "less then ideal". Being unable to communicate with the only other person nominally on "My Side"? Kinda bad! But, I AM learning. And I am teaching him english! So there's that.

We have nothing but time, after all. It helps distract from the suffering just outside. The weeping and screams. The sounds that must be begging, in alien dialects. All the mercies they do not find.

(Is it terrible? That I am glad I can not understand what they are saying? Their cries for help? I can't help them. It hurts. Helpless to even save my self. God, I'm sorry. Please... I'm... I'm so sorry...)

Food gets shoved in. Lights flipped on. Lights shut off. The timer odd, but probably standard for somewhere. It's like being told to go to sleep halfway through the afternoon. Yanked awake before full nights are done. I struggle to adapt, even a little, following my fellow prisoner's lead. Or, well, trying too. There's a lot of charades at first.

Then, practicing our languages. Taking what naps and cuddling for warmth we can. Harsh lights be damned. It's cold, we're tired, but we have to keep our strength up. Right? Throughout it all, I try to ignore the weird smells they pump in. Still not used to getting random scents blasted at my head from above, from the air vents in the walls.

Day in, day out, rinse and repeate. The weird gasses smells like people have had sex, to be honest. I think? But don't quote me. They might be trying to get us to "mate", like animals, so they can sell our kids. Induce some nonexistent human heat cycle or something. I've kinda started to worry, not gonna lie, about what they'll do... you know, once they finally get frustrated. Figure out, we don't work like that.

Or... more relevantly, might not even be? Compatible?

Cause Azenari is DEFINITELY not a human. They fucked uuuup. Cause if he is? There is some probably serious divergent evolution going on. He did NOT get nabbed from Earth. HE got nabbed from his SHIP(as in, yeah, a fuckin Space Ship). Because HIS people are space faring! The man has pointy ears for fucks sake! Some seriously fangy canines. And while, yeah, seriously kinda cool? No idea if our species are related, or... you know...

So yeah, The Fur Covered Slaver Bastards are apparently Humanoid face blind, on TOP of being just generally terrible. Or dumb! Might be dumb, honestly. Wouldn't put it past them. Banality of evil and all that. But recently? There was a... tension. Something was coming. The Bastards seemed twitchy.

"Not long now, beloved. We're two stops from the extraction ambush." Azenari murmured, from where he was tucked loosely around me as I watch the latest patrol pass, one arm cradling me tight. Even as, with the other hand, he sleepily stroked my back. "You'll look lovely in proper robes. You deserve finery, my love."

I couldn't understand most of the sentence. Normally he simplified for me, since I was still learning. He seemed... pleased? Smug? The more tense and twitchy the Bastards got, the more darkly amused he seemed to become. As though he knew exactly why. As though he was laughing inside.

"My magnificent darling, you'll belong to me in everyway that matters. I'll take safer jobs. No more slave ring stings. I promise."

Oh. I think I got it. Azenari though of me as family! Yeah, that tracked. Trauma bonding and all. I did too. Couldn't help but smile, hugging him back, much to his clear delight. Yeah. We were in this together.

I'm glad I had someone I could trust. The universe was big and I would be pretty much alone without him. All but thrown at his feet and told I was his, Azenari had every chance to hurt me. But he didn't. He was a good man. Solid and stable when everything when frightening, warm and there when I needed to hide.

Really, it was only a matter of time before we would be chatting like old friends!

"You are NEVER going to escape me, beloved."

"I Love You."

[rawme-price]

I feel like out of everyone, soap is the best person to be sick with.

Gaz was an only child and never had to take care of siblings, ghost can be overbearing, price tells you to suck it up if its not hospital worthy.

But soap? Soap is amazing. Out of all his sisters, soap had the strongest immune system and was often the only one spared when sickness rolled through the family. Which ofc means he insists on taking care of u when you come down with a fever.

He makes sure youre nice and comfy in bed, insists on blankets even when you complain about overheating bc "thats your body doing its job, no need to make it harder".

If you cant keep any food down, he insists on giving you water and at least some crackers. Hand feeds it to you if you ask nicely. The second you can stomach a bit more soap is making the "healing soup" thats been passed down for generations. (Its literally just chicken soup with veggies) and spoonfeeding it to you.

Also yes, he will crawl into bed and cuddle with you if you ask. Literally no fear of getting sick, and totally unbotheted by ur runny nose and gross coughs. Soaps more than happy to be ur heating pad when you feel horribly cold.

[kissmeizuku]

thinking of blatantly possessive "best friend" (he wants them so bad) izuku x reader

like imagine y/n peacefully outside talking with their friends while waiting for izuku to get done with homework

starts raining

and momo says "oh no y/n do you need a jacket?? i can create one for you right now-"

but before the poor girl can even begin opening up her costume to create something

a jacket is already draped across y/n and arms wrapped around their waist (it's izuku)

and he's just staring momo down like "lmao no"

[viperify]

thinking about…

ᡣ𐭩 lazy sex with Tom Riddle

after a stressful day.

The kind of sex where you strip each other’s clothing piece by piece. Where touches are slow and deliberate, exploring each other like you rarely get to do. Where his lips are on yours as soon as he slips inside, muffling your soft whimpers with a gentle kiss.

His hands on either side of your head, keeping you close. His eyes, the most beautiful dark brown, locked onto yours. 

Soft praises falling over his lips.

“Good girl, taking me so well.”

“I know, I know.”

“Just what you needed, isn’t it?”

“Let go, darling.”

Hips rolling into yours slowly, his body weight pressing down on you.

Fingers tangled in his dark curls, drawing shapes and patterns along his toned shoulders with your other hand.

Breaths mingling as he closely watches your every expression, placing soft kisses on your slightly parted, swollen lips.

Sex without haste, without responsibilities gnawing at your conscience. Sex to calm you both down. Sex where the main goal is not a quick build-up of pleasure and release, but rather the feeling leading up to it.

When you do finally tip over the edge, your entire body trembling, he holds you close, helps you through it. Prolongs your pleasure for as long as he possibly can. Works you like he’s studied your body, like he knows it better than you do.

He might, after all.

And when he follows, right after you, it’s never without sounds—whimpers even. Praising you, again, for how well you are doing, how well you are taking him—all of him.

After, his body rests on yours, all spent. Dark curls sticking to his damp forehead, his chest heaving with every breath he takes. Your fingertips explore along his back, gently caressing the skin over his tense muscles. Tom, trailing kisses down your neck, starting just below your ear. Mumbling just how much you mean to him.

One of the few times you’ll see Tom with his guard down. Raw and pure need. Affection almost. 

Love, if you dream.

For you.

Only for you.

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | drabbles.

⋆˙⟡

A/N: this is so short, forgive me. will see yall again when my finals are over!!! love u all sm🫶🏻

[theoats99]

The Time In Between

Remmick x Female!Reader

Summary - Your in that time in between your cycle, your body is yelling and screaming for anything, for everything from Remmick.

NSFW! Mentions of ovulation, doggy, some praise from Remmick. This one is kinda tame really.

Word Count:2,285

One of the many horrors of being a woman was of course the monthly bleeding, something that Remmick struggled with a lot since we’d become, well, closer. The restraint he showed with you became thinner with each day into your cycle, but after months of living together he’d been able to keep that deep dark hunger in check. For the most part whenever you bled he’d excuse himself more often, leaving into the dark for hours before coming back less tense.

His keen sense of smell didn’t help either, he could always just know. The first month it happened you’d have thought he smelled death the way he recoiled from you, all with a polite tight smile on his lips he’d excuse himself leaving you confused. After time his sense of smell was a powerful weapon, he could smell any predator that came close to the land of your home, smell when the weather would change, and also smell others on you.

He hated when you went into town because that smell that seemed to make you you was muddled by others, he’d grumble and whine about how you smelled different, off. It usually ended with him on top of you, covering you completely in the best way possible, more than making sure that you smelled like him again.

Today he knows something is off, it’s that fine point right in between each bleed, the point that drives a hunger so deep inside of you that it burns, seeping out of your core to your underwear. He knew it from the moment he left the bedroom at dusk, eyeing you strangely as he started helping you in the garden. 

You knew what it was, it was your body's way of pushing you to be filled, pushing you to have children that you knew Remmick could never logically give you. But still that burning feeling lingers, you attempt to work through it, you managed to grit your teeth all day in the yard, doing anything and everything to not go to the vampire laying in your bed, to not beg him to ruin you like you desperately wanted to.

But each time you looked over at him, his strong body moving some soil, or even plucking the weeds out of the ground, that burning hunger inside of you grew. In moments like these you get an understanding for the pain Remmick struggles with, that hunger he always fights, you imagine it feels like this, like a fire burning its way out of your body screaming to be put out. 

Not that Remmick would have minded, it was very clear early on that Remmick would do anything you asked, something that scared you at times just as much as it made that familiar feeling pool in your core. “I’d burn the world down if it kept you warm hun’.” He’d told you once, face fully serious, and shockingly it only made you love him more.

“Darlin’ are you feeling alright?” His concern isn’t lost on you, and neither is the closeness of his body. He’d managed to sneak up on you, crouching right next to you while you were lost in your thoughts, hand hovering over your shoulder. You look at him, staring into those pretty eyes that search over your body as if looking for something out of place, a reason for your strange demeanor.

“‘M just fine, we have a lot of work out here that needs to be done is all.” You lie, whipping your head back to the weeds that have infiltrated the garden, yanking the thing out sharply. Remmick doesn’t move though, instead he falls to his knees mirroring your position on the ground, placing his hands over your own to stop you from getting to the next weed. You glance at him, not turning your head at all. 

“You smell warm, you been out here too long, sugar, ya need some rest.” You finally look at him, and all you want to do is punch that sweet caring look off his face. He’s a fucking vampire, something so dangerous and lethal, I mean fuck he’s older than the town we’re in, possibly older than anything in this country. But here he is, worrying over you over working yourself, over the fact that you’ve been in the sun all day with no break.

Something in you snaps, you look away from him, peeling the thick gloves off your hands and throwing them to the dirt, he looks alarmed at the action, worry again spreading over his face. That look is whipped away when you latch onto his shirt, lips smashing against his. He takes no time to allow his hands to grip onto you, lips moving against yours just as roughly.

You latch your teeth onto his lower lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but it sends him over, bringing a growl out of him as he breaks away from you. His eyes have changed now, that worrying blue gone and replaced with that shining lustful red gleaming down at you, it sets your already hot insides on fire. He stands, hands going to you hips hauling you up over his shoulder eliciting a gasp from you as he takes you inside, once inside he tosses you onto the bed, your body bouncing against the springs as he crawls over you. His whole body is pressing yours to the bed, not an inch of space between the two of you.

“Now I know what that smell is, it’s you, yer want. Yer that desprete huh?” He gloats, hands on either side of your head, normally his gloating would send you spiraling. It would make your head spin, send some hot embarrassed flush crawling over you, but today he’s right. From the moment you woke up this morning the need for him was burning inside of you, so you tilt your chin at him and face him head on.

“Ya, it’s me. I’ve wanted you so bad all day, working myself like a horse all mornin’ just to distract myself. All I wanted to do was come in here and take you or let you take me, it wouldn’t have mattered which way I just wanted you, all morning I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” His chest is rising sharply, erratic breaths leaving his mouth as he takes in your words, sharp teeth shining in the candlelight he must have lit when he woke up.

He doesn’t say anything as he rises, a whine leaving you at his absence, but the sound is replaced by a yelp as he turns you over quickly. Laying on your stomach now he yanks your skirt down removing it completely then your shoes, he grabs your shoulder dragging you to your knees, your back pressed against his chest. You can feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his hands unbutton your shirt, yanking it down your arms, his arms returning to your torso holding you so close to him. So close you can feel him drool onto your shoulder, so close you can feel him straining against your ass, his cock rearing to be free and you clench around nothing at the thought of it.

One of his arms wraps tightly around your waist, holding you still against him while the other travels down and cups over your heat. The moment his hand connects with the wetness that has been pooling all day he groans, hot and heavy against your ear. 

“Ye could have woken me baby.” He groans again, fingers trailing through the seeping heat, moving down each stroke then back to your clit, he repeats the slow torturous motion over and over again, driving you insane. “I wouldn’t have minded, I would have taken ya I promise.” He slurs against your shoulder, bringing more whimpers from you, simply just nodding to his statements.

And once his finger slides inside the relief is instant, like aloe against sun burnt skin the sensation of his finger finally inside of you leaves you sighing, relaxing against his tense body behind you. He works you over slowly, bringing that finger in and out like he’s cherishing it, his lips working over your neck just as gently, like he’s worshiping you like this. 

“Remmick.” You sob, wanting more, needing more. More fingers, more kisses, more of anything that he is willing to give you. He lets out an equally pathetic sob, nodding against your shoulder.

“I know baby, I know. I just want to take my time with you is all.” He tries, but you jerk your hips against his still moving finger, whimpering.

“Please, just more Remmick please.” You whine, hating the way your voice sounds as you plead with him. But it works, he groans against your neck and slides another finger inside. The moan that leaves you seems to light something inside of him on fire, his fingers now moving fast, slamming against your hips as his teeth scrape over your neck. You can feel his drool sliding down your shoulder, gliding down your chest as his fingers bring you closer to the edge. And just when that familiar knot is about to snap, just when your moans reach that high pitched begging sound he stops, he yanks his fingers out of you and pushes your shoulders down towards the bed. You fail to find purchase against the sheets, landing on your elbows instead, a whine leaving you lips at the emptiness. 

His hand collides with your cheek, a wrangled moan making its way out of your mouth, the pain mingling into the pleasure. Then another on the other side before both of his hands grab at your cheeks. “I can see ya dripping, fucking glistening.” He growls as he spreads and massages your rear, your forehead against the mattress panting into the sheets under you.

You hear the sound of his belt buckle, the sturdy piece clanking as he undoes it followed by some rustling as he joins you on the bed. His hands go to your hips, raising your ass to him where you feel the weight of him against your thigh, his hands are all over you, fingers grazing over your burning skin like a map he’s read over and over again. He leans over you, his cool chest draped over your hot clammy skin, he buries himself in your hair inhaling slowly like it’s the first breath he’s taken all day.

“Tell me you want it, tell me I can ruin ye and I will. Please just tell me.” He begs, whimpering against your ear. 

“Remmick please, please.” You sob, his hand finds your own, still clutching the sheets below you. “I want it, I want you, please.” That’s what breaks him, his hips angle back and in one swift motion he’s pushing inside of you. It’s searing in the best way possible, eliciting a moan from you that only pushes him further.

Then it’s like he’s been set free, his hips snapping against yours, balls colliding with each thrust, hips snapping to yours all while his hands are gripping onto yours. His fingers weaving between your own as they clutch onto the bed, his own head resting against your shoulder muttering words you don’t know. They sound old, something from when he was living no doubt, and they only add to the pleasure as they meet your ears, he notices because of course he does, Remmick notices everything about you. 

“An maith leat é sin?” The words are foreign to your ears, but his tone is enough to tell you it’s a question, one you don’t know how to answer. “Do álainn.” He mouths against your shoulder, it sounds sweet, reverant, the opposite of how his hips are still slamming into yours. With a force and precision so skilled your brain can’t even keep up, that coil tightens again and this time he isn’t stopping. With three more power filled thrusts your crumbling away, his name leaving your lips loudly as you clench around him. He moans against the skin of your back, slamming into you once more as he fills you, ropes of himself spilling into you with each stuttering thrust he gives you.

He stays draped over you, his breathing calmed quickly, but you're left under him still trying to catch your own. His fingers are still weaved between your own, his lips trail over your shoulder blades, leaving tender soft kisses over the skin. “You alright?” His voice is hoarse, like gravel against your ear, but also mixed with that accent, something he hides, something that comes out when he’s too blissed out from you to care about keeping his facade up. 

“Shit, I knew I went too hard.” He swears when you don’t answer, going to get off of you but your fingers keep his in place, holding him tightly. 

“I’m perfect.” Is all your voice can get out, he sighs over you, like you’ve given him the world in just those two words.

He pulls himself out of you, and nudges you up the bed, you allow him to move you up. Your body feeling light as he brings you to his chest, you bury your face into it sighing to yourself this time. One of his hands is over the small of your back, the other is weaving into your hair keeping you close. With the fire inside of you gone the exhaustion takes over you, your eyes drooping, eyelashes fluttering against his skin as you relax into both him and the bed. Right as you're drifting off you hear him say something, something you again don’t understand. 

“Tá grá agam duit.”

Note!!! I tried really hard to find a good enough translation site for Gaelic, but alas it's really hard, so I'm sorry if the bits in here are butchered!!!

An maith leat é sin? = Do you like that?

Do álainn = So beautiful

Tá grá agam duit = I love you

[strangerstilinski]

can you pretty please do [intimidation] with eddie

🥺👉👈

[INTIMIDATION] sender, in an effort to frighten the receiver by invading their personal space, sits in their lap to try and inspire discomfort or fear in them.

cw: alcohol consumption, fem!reader, sort of enemies -> lovers (but actually idiots -> lovers), 2.4k

dividers by @strangergraphics

You're blocking the doorway into the Harrington kitchen, shoulder leaned against the wood panelling where you have a good view into the living room. Your unimpressed glare is drawn from the figure currently hogging the sofa when someone bumps into you just as you're bringing the plastic cup in your hand to your lips.

"Jesus, fucking watch it-" The outrage in your tone fades quick when you see who's run into you.

"Sorry." Jonathan grimaces as he watches you wipe a bit of juice and vodka from your chin.

"No, it's fine," You sigh and turn on your heel, following Jonathan into the kitchen as he begins to grab things to make himself a drink, though it appears to be far more lemon-lime soda and grenadine than anything else. "Sorry, I just.. I dunno, sorry." You shrug before gulping down another mouthful of your own admittedly strong drink. You're kind of hoping that once your buzz kicks in you'll feel just a little less like there's a storm cloud floating right above your head.

"What is with you, tonight?" Jonathan asks with an overly cautious smile, "I haven't seen Munson bug you even once, so it's gotta be somethin' else-"

"Nothing," You huff, a little defensive at just the mention of the other boy, "I'm fine."

"Oh yeah, totally," Jonathan chuckles and raises his newly acquired drink in a salute, "You're like a ray of sunshine tonight."

It's annoying as hell, but he's right. You're fuming and Eddie has yet to even speak to you. He's been avoiding you like the plague from the moment you walked through the door, as if Eddie could somehow sense that you were already in a mood, and he didn't feel like getting told off for being the reason that you finally snapped.

Because normally, Eddie would've found at least seven ways he could irritate you by now. He'd have finished the last of the juice he saw you eyeing for your next mixed drink and laughed maniacally when you pouted about it. He'd have pestered you about whether you might want to join in on another campaign, all while making a handful of little comments about just how easy it'll be for him to decimate your character when you do. He'd have watched you shiver while you passed a joint back and forth by the pool, and then draped his stupid jacket around your shoulders just so he could roll his eyes and give you shit about not dressing warmly enough.

Eddie was infuriating — And the worst part was that he knew it. The asshole thrived on pushing buttons and testing people's limits, but tonight evidently he'd been able to tell that you were already toeing dangerously close to yours and had steered clear altogether.

You peer back out into the living room now, narrowed eyes zeroing back in on the figure sprawled across the entire length of the loveseat, socked feet kicked up on the opposite cushion where someone else could be sitting if he weren't such a selfish prick.

"God, what an asshole." You grumble, downing the last of your drink and grabbing the nearest bottle to begin mixing another. "I mean, look at him, seriously. Does he have to take up the whole couch?"

Jonathan's gaze follows the path your own had taken moments before, and he snorts in amusement, "Eddie."

It's not a question, but you answer him as if it had been.

"Yes, Eddie." Another quick glance up into the living room has your eyes locking with the man in question just as his name falls from your lips.

Eddie's eyes go wide, his cheeks dimpling with his sudden grin. He jabs his index finger into his chest, lips moving silently around the words, "Who? Me?"

"Uh-huh.. Why don't you go do something about it?" Jonathan teases.

Eddie's attention is pulled away when Gareth says something from his spot in an armchair. Whatever he says it gets Eddie riled up and he's immediately talking animatedly, hands gesturing wildly as he speaks.

"Maybe I will." You're already moving with purpose, halfway out of the kitchen when you hear your friend shout after you.

"I was joking!"

"Well I'm not!" You call back over your shoulder.

It's darker as you step into the living room, overhead lights off in favor of utilizing the warmer glow from the the lamp tucked away in the corner. You have to step over Eddie's discarded shoes at the foot of the sofa, and the boy very nearly knocks your drink out of your hand when you step in front of him, too distracted by his own tirade to have seen your approach.

But his head snaps up toward you as your thigh brushes his arm. Whatever he's been saying, the words cut off abruptly at the realization of who it is standing beside him.

"Well hey there, princess." He shoots you a toothy grin — You assume it's meant to be charming, but it only irritates you further. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

You ignore Eddie in favor of casting a small smile of apology toward Gareth, "Sorry to interrupt."

"Nah, no worrie-"

"No, no! You didn't interrupt. We were done." Eddie cuts his friend off, "Gareth was just telling me he was gonna go take a piss, actually."

Gareth splutters for a moment, but when his eyes shift from you to Eddie he's suddenly rising from his chair. You watch Gareth shake his head as he steps around you before he stalks off without a word.

"What was that about?" You can't help but ask in curiosity.

"Beats me. Really had to piss, I guess." Eddie says quickly, sitting up a little straighter against the arm of the couch. He throws an arm out to gesture to Gareth's recently vacated chair, "Did you wanna-"

Rather than taking advantage of the empty seat, you plop yourself across Eddie's thighs unceremoniously, feeling oddly satisfied by the huff of surprise that escapes him when your weight is suddenly in his lap.

The way the warmth of his body seeps into your own is near immediate, even through two layers of denim. Your arm presses into his chest as you lean back into the cushion of the sofa, trying and failing to remain unaffected by his proximity. He smells infuriatingly good this close, clean and masculine with just a lingering hint of the weed he'd smoked earlier in the night. It makes your stomach flutter wildly, makes your head swim for half a second before you're lifting your cup to your mouth in an effort to compose yourself.

Eddie huffs softly and his breath fans out over your exposed shoulder, warm and smelling faintly of cheap beer and menthols. Goosebumps prickle along the length of your arm, hairs standing on end suddenly. You wish you could convince yourself that your body's reaction were one of repulsion, but deep down you know that its something far, far worse than that.

"You.. You're just gonna.. sit.. here?" Eddie asks, voice a little wobbly, unsure.

His knuckles brush your thigh, likely an accident, but one sidelong glare has his hand retreating to the relative safety of the couch cushion in a flash.

"Yep."

You can see outside to the patio from your position, and you focus your attention to the group sitting with their feet in the pool. The sheer amount of effort it takes to keep your eyes trained there, rather than allowing them to drift to where Eddie's hand twitches near your knee-

"Do- Did you want me to move my legs? Do you want-" He shifts underneath you like he's ready to pull his feet from the cushion at the other end, but you remain resolutely in place.

"Nope, I'm good."

You have absolutely no plans of moving any time soon. You'd remain seated right here in Eddie's lap until his bladder was ready to burst, until your weight made his legs fall asleep and tingle from lack of blood flow, until he was ready to grab you by your hips and force you into another seat.

He'd learn his lesson. The inconsiderate couch-hogging asshole.

"O..kay." Eddie says slowly, wiping his palm on the side of his own denim-clad hip, as if his hands might've gotten a little sweaty.

Were you making him warm? Good.

"So.." Eddie pauses. You catch a glimpse of his face scrunching in thought at the corners of your vision before he continues, "Any big plans for the weekend?"

With how close you're sat, Eddie is speaking almost directly into your ear. There's no need for him to raise his voice to be heard, and you find that the low rumble of it is nice, soothing almost. It curls around your ears and sends something warm shooting down your spine.

"Killing boys." You return dryly, eyes straining now in an effort to remain focussed on what's going on in the backyard.

Eddie snorts, body jolting underneath you with his amusement — And his almost-laughter absolutely does not make your chest flush with pride. You couldn't care less whether or not Eddie Munson finds you funny. As if.

"Oh, so nothing out of the ordinary for you then."

Eddie chuckles and the tip of his thumb finds its way to the place where your thigh presses into his. You can't tell if it's accidental or on purpose, but the gentle press of his finger maybe kind of makes your stomach flip pleasantly, so you allow it. Whatever.

You hum in agreement, "Yeah, well. There's almost always some boy who deserves it."

"I don't doubt it," Eddie murmurs with a wide grin, his head tipped sideways over the back of the couch, cheek nearly brushing your shoulder now, "Anyone I know currently at the top of your list, madame assassin?"

"There is this one asshole." You pause to take a sip of your drink, fighting off a grimace at the awful liquor to juice ratio. "He's loud. And irritating. Just loves getting on my last nerve-"

"Long hair?"

The interruption has your eyes rolling, "Yep. Walks around looking like some Van Halen wannabe."

"Oh, he sounds cool."

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice now.

"Well he's not." You return blankly. "He's always trying to get a rise outta me, acting like a total prick-"

"Hold on, hold on-" Eddie cuts you off again, "Now I'm not so sure we're on the same page. Thought I knew who you were talkin' about, but-"

"Oh, you know him." You grumble, sinking farther into the plush cushion on the back of the couch with your drink clutched to your chest. "You know him well, trust me."

Eddie shifts beneath you, angling both himself and you until he's taking up more of your line of sight than the patio doors. His big brown eyes bore into you until you crack and flick your gaze toward him.

"Here's the thing.." Eddie starts, the pad of his thumb stroking the seam on the outside of your knee. "Maybe this guy's just pushing your buttons because he likes when all of your attention is on him-"

The arm he has thrown over the back of the couch by your shoulder moves then, brushing your hair back from your temple only to backtrack and trail the pads of his fingers featherlight over the space between your brows.

"-Maybe.. Shit, I dunno, maybe he likes the way your eyebrows come together when you're angry-"

Your heart is beating so loud you can hear the blood pumping in your ears. The urge to fidget under his attention is strong, but you sit at still as possible in fear of breaking the spell. You have to strain to hear Eddie's next words over the dull whoosh of your heartbeat echoing in your skull.

"Maybe he thinks you look kinda devastatingly beautiful-"

"You-" And, fuck. Did your voice just crack? "You're trying to tell me you think this guy is, what? Being a dick because he likes me? Pulling my pigtails on the playground and shit?"

Eddie's grin is less cocky than you've ever seen it. His lips twitch at one side of his mouth. He almost looks nervous.

You take a deep breath as his fingers skim over your jaw on their way back toward your hair, where he pinches a small lock between two fingers and tugs twice, oh-so gentle.

"What if he was?" Eddie asks softly, "Being a dick because he likes you, I mean."

"I'd tell you he's an idiot." You manage, plastic cup crinkling under the increased pressure of your hand.

Eddie winces, but nods and averts his gaze. His arm falls to the back to the sofa again, close enough for you to feel the warmth of it beside your shoulder.

"But.." You have to swallow down a smile when Eddie's wide eyes snap right back to yours. "Maybe this idiot's attraction isn't totally one-sided. So, maybe he should stop being an asshole and try making a move."

Eddie blinks. Once, then twice. He squares his shoulders and leans in like he might kiss you, but then he backs off again and searches your eyes as if he's terrified he might be reading the entire situation wrong.

"Eddie." You whisper sharply, "The idiot is you, asshole."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, thank god."

And then his fingers are curled gently around the back of your neck. His hand is fully grasping your opposite thigh as he tries to drag you impossibly closer. His plush lips are pressing softly into your own, the taste of beer mixing with vodka and citrus.

It's a quick kiss, chaste. Your mouths only remain glued together for all of three seconds before he's leaning back just enough to watch you blink at him from beneath heavy lashes. You can't imagine how stupidly docile you look; brows pushed up your forehead, chest nearly heaving beneath your shirt, jaw slack, lips parted and waiting for more. It's pathetic how he's managed to turn you into this with just one G-Rated kiss.

The hand on the back of your neck moves to your face, fingertips tracing the smooth line of your brow before trailing back down to cup your cheek.

"Yeah.. Yeah, this is nice too." Eddie murmurs, "You're awful pretty when you're mad, but this.. This right here is somethin' else."

"You're so annoying." It comes out airy, absolutely no bite to your words.

"Oh, that's not changing, sweetheart. Matter of fact, I think it's a part of our spark. Gotta keep the fire burning, right? I'll keep annoying you, you'll keep getting angry-"

"Would you just shut up and kiss me again?"

Eddie grins, already leaning in, "Sure thing."

[kxsagi]

hihii could i request smth academic rivals pretty pls 😋🙏 w any character u think would fit, u write all of them so well!! 💗

“𝐮 𝐮𝐩? (𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬… 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬)”

a/n: thank you!!! i decided to turn them into multi-character headcanons lol

also isn’t reo like… the only canonically smart academic student out of all of the blue lock boys or am i missing someone

(i don't know art credits sorry)

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, kaiser michael, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, bachira meguru, itoshi sae

isagi yoichi

you’re always one mark ahead of him, and it kills him. 

stays up rewatching the lecture recordings at 1.5x speed just to prove a point. 

always “accidentally” sits next to you in study groups so he can “check your notes for comparison” (aka secretly tries to figure out how the hell you understood that derivation so easily). 

keeps it respectful, but once he beats your score? he turns and gives you the smuggest little smile. 

“guess i’m top of the class this time, huh?” 

his ears go pink when you glare back at him. he lives for it. 

itoshi rin

hates how your handwriting is always neat and your answers are always right. 

claims he doesn’t care, but if you do even slightly better than him, he studies twice as hard the next week. 

his pride gets bruised every time the professor compliments you. 

“your essay lacked proper citation structure.” 

oh? okay rin. yours lacked a heart. 

he doesn’t admit he likes the tension between you two until you start arguing about shakespeare in front of the whole class. 

it’s not a love confession, but the moment he actually agrees with your interpretation? that’s the closest he’ll get. 

nagi seishiro

couldn’t care less until you started mocking him for sleeping through class. 

now he’s determined to beat you out of sheer spite. 

“ugh… guess i gotta actually open the textbook now.” 

still acts lazy, but secretly studies at night just to come back and say “look, i got a 98. that’s higher than yours, right?” 

teases you by stretching and yawning right after acing a quiz. 

lowkey enjoys the way you huff and accuse him of guessing (he didn’t. he crammed). 

you catch him writing your initials in the margins of his notes one day and he plays it off like he’s doodling. 

kaiser michael

academic rivalry? no. it’s academic war. 

“you breathe like someone who gets second place.” 

calls you “valedictorian” like it’s an insult. 

raises his hand just to challenge everything you say. 

will literally hold a grudge if you score higher than him on a test. 

once snatched your paper off the stack and announced your grade out loud in front of everyone. 

but also corners you after class like “how do you study? seriously.” 

starts showing up to the library when you’re there. not to study. just to sit across from you and smirk every time you sigh. 

mikage reo

flirts while competing. 

“wow, you’re smart and cute. must be hard carrying the class on your back.” 

you roll your eyes, but he keeps track of your test scores like it’s a stock market. 

buys the same books as you just so he can “study together.” 

makes friendly wagers like “if i beat your score, you owe me coffee” (you always end up going anyway). 

secretly highlights your notes in matching colors to his. 

if you beat him, he throws his head back and dramatically sighs like “fine, i’ll accept defeat. but only if you tutor me... over dinner.” 

chigiri hyoma

quiet competitiveness with sharp precision. 

always acts unbothered, but you see him clench his jaw when he sees your name above his. 

his handwriting is beautiful. his notes are elite. you secretly borrow them. 

hates group projects but will tolerate them if you’re in his group. 

the kind of person who finishes the exam first just to shake you a little. 

starts leaving anonymous sticky notes in your locker with corrections to your essays. 

one day you call him out, and he shrugs and says, “didn’t want you to lose to me because of grammar.” 

bachira meguru

the chaotic academic rival. 

always somehow scores as high as you despite turning in assignments with doodles and half the word count. 

“you think too hard, that’s why i beat you.” 

constantly pokes you in class and whispers answers before the teacher calls on you. 

always calls you “my rival” in a dramatic voice. 

brags about beating you by 0.5 points like it’s a gold medal. 

but gets really quiet and pouty when you beat him, just sulks with his head on the desk. 

you give him candy as a peace offering and he’s instantly back to grinning. 

itoshi sae

the worst kind of academic rival because he’s effortlessly brilliant. 

doesn’t even care about class ranking, but still manages to beat you every time. 

you’re grinding late at night, red-eyed and over-caffeinated, and he’s over there casually reading the material once and acing the test. 

“you’re studying again? that’s cute.” 

always acts like he forgot there was an exam, then gets the highest score. 

you confront him about it and he just tilts his head, “maybe you’re just not that smart.” 

(he’s bluffing. he notices every time you beat him by even a fraction of a point, and it pisses him off more than he lets on.) 

once handed your paper back to you in class with a smirk and said “you missed question 6” even though you definitely got it right. 

the kind of rival who looks at you across the room during test return like it’s a silent challenge. 

one day you stay late to study and he’s there too, already in the back, headphones in, flipping through notes. 

neither of you say a word… but you both stay until closing time. 

you catch him glancing at your notes. he catches you glancing at him. 

“don’t fall in love with me just because i’m smarter than you.” 

you throw an eraser at his head. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[kazumist]

CAUSE I'M FALLING SLOWLY IN LOVE WITH YOU .ᐟ

✩ — in which you found yourself falling for them even harder because of the little things they do.

✩ — includes: wanderer, wriothesley, alhaitham, kazuha x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 438. i really would've written more if this was a modern!au but oh well. you all just get another four characters i guess. please reblog bc it would help me a lot !!

wanderer is not an individual who’s used to expressing himself—he’s very aware of that fact. he also has this sort of social stigma when it comes to flirting. he finds it awfully disgusting when he sees others be affectionate towards their partners in public, to the point where he really can’t imagine himself doing the same. but for you, he tries. he starts by wrapping an arm around you as you walk in public, and then he slowly pulls you closer to him as he does so. you knew kunikuzushi was not the one for these types of things, but the fact that he’s trying for you? your heart just couldn’t help but flutter. 

wriothesley was not blessed when it came to the arts. his hands were not made for anything that’s concerned with art—painting, origami, you name it. but you find it adorable because that just means his artwork would always have this... touch that would always remind you it was wriothesley who made it. whether that may be a smudge of the paint, crumples around the matter, or wonky cuts despite a guideline already present for him to use. yet when your birthday comes around, you’re surprised that wriothesley presents himself to you with a small bouquet of paper flowers in his hand. “sigewinne had to help me with this; you know how hopeless i am when it comes to arts and crafts.” and just imagining him struggle to put up this little paper bouquet in your head, you were sure that you could never love anyone else other than him.

you could always see alhaitham having his nose in a book. whether it’s something from the akademiya’s library or a novel he decided to pick up, there’s one thing you’re sure of: you two would always bond over books. though you’re both interested in different genres, alhaitham finds himself picking up the book you recently finished and enjoying himself with it. he does this because he knows that you love it—and whatever you love, alhaitham finds himself loving it as well.

kazuha is a passionate man; he’s quite the talker too. he would always have this glint in his eyes whenever he told you a tale of his recent travels. and that glint is something you always find endearing because kazuha clearly enjoys himself telling you all of these. you listen to him attentively, absorbing and understanding every detail his story would hold, laughing alongside him whenever he mentions an amusing memory that happened on his trip. and just by the sound of his voice, there’s no one you’d rather listen to other than him.

[kaprisvn]

ok bet, i needa know

do chasingstars! sun and moon make animalistic-like sounds, like hissing or purring? would they hiss at other ppl taking y/n's attention away from them? purr when they do have y/n's attention?

when i do i usually make the purring a whirring sound, but i think most of the fandom does that lol

Hello anon :D Congratulations on being my very first ask on Chasing Stars! (I'm so honoured <3)

As for the CS! Boys... They are for sure making noises of all kinds. It's directly canon that they both growl (Kellen Goff I love you), so I don't see why not!

I can't justify why the robot would need to blush, so the whirring (or purring) of their fans is kind of a stand in for that, along with general happiness.

As for our beloved lunar boy, he is MUCH more prone to growling and even the occasional hiss. Though, I see him more doing hissing noise when being dramatic, and a growl if he's actually upset over something. (Like losing Y/Ns attention. Like what? I'm not your only friend? Other people make you happy in a way I can't replicate??) They're working on it.

Please put growl.sfx over this drawing lmao

EDIT: HISS SFX CURTOSY OF @spaceboisstuff :DDD

But yeah they are certified Noise Makers™ because I also make weird sounds :3

[specialgrades]

lycaon the type of guy to nuzzle his face into his partner's neck and inhale deeply. it's a comfort for him, your scent. after a long time in the hollow, or dealing with a particularly difficulty client; he finds comfort in your scent. what he doesn't consider is how much of a turn on it is as well⏤ the way your scent changes when you're aroused. it makes his head all fuzzy, tail flicking and mouth watering. he has to pay extra attention to his strength when that smell hits him, his wolf instincts fighting for the front. he'll nuzzle into your neck again when he's close, canines grazing your flesh as he takes in your scent. a growl breaks off into a whimper as his hips stutter and he locks himself in place inside of you with his knot; entire body shaking as he cums.

[marshymallo]

guys just here me out, random idea here:

ghost who goes through a bit of a depressive state because of soap (rip) and is too depressed to cook or clean or do anything for himself

captain price who visits simon and tells him about the nice young lady he’s hired to clean his place while he’s away and gives him her phone number

sweet cleaning lady/maid!reader who does her job without judging him and goes the extra mile to start cooking meals for him and doing laundry, none of which was in their discussed agreement for her job

reader who slowly cracks open his heart with soft smiles, checking on him outside of her designated work hours, and sweetly calling him “mr. riley, sir”

[threepandas]

Bad End: Happy Wife

Thirteen servants were dead; Two estates on fire.

I never even made it to the gates.

The smell of smoke lingered in the air. Clung to his hair and skin, even after bathing. Because no amount of scented oils, scrubbing, could erase his sin. The scent of iron and cooking flesh. Cruel scents of ancient houses ablaze. Innocent people being slaughtered. For... for the crime of trying to help me.

It was all my fault.

Last time, I had escaped alone. Or... more laughably, he had let me escape.

So he could hunt me through the forest like a brightly colored deer. Some pretty prey to stalk and torment. Letting me exhaust myself. Run and run until I could no longer, before casually strolling up to come collect me. As though letting me get it out of my system. A man, merely humoring his wife's tantrums and overly dramatic, willful ways.

I never should have accepted help. No matter have lonely I was. How desperate my despair. Because... because-!

"I'll get you new ones. Don't be upset, Love." The monster that was my husband, said idly. His voice a low rumble like thunder, his so called 'sweet' tone. "Servants that can't obey their lord, can't be trusted. Shouldn't be kept. They were scum. I'll get you better ones."

Ha ha... more like, servants that obeyed him. Feared him. Had no shred of mercy or honor, left in their bones. Gods... I... I had condemned thirteen good souls. All for trying to help me. Save me. Just for trying to get me out of this hell and away from this man.

I would never forgive this life's sperm donor, for handing me over. Because... because after a betray like that? After I had begged? Begged and screamed, rioted and tried to run? And STILL he handed me over? He was no kin of mine. I had no family.

Not in this life.

My family may not have been perfect. May have been flawed. But they would never have handed me over to a psychopath. Sold me to the highest bidder, like chattle. And... and honestly? I would take them at their worst, over these bastards at their best.

I never should have read that STUPID book. Yeah, maybe, it had nothing to do with anything. Maybe, all it would have done is left me ignorant on top of being stranded. But? I had to blame something. Or I'd go insane. So it was the fucking book's fault.

Recommend by an internet friend. Historical fiction. Lots of complex characters and some spicy yandere. How FUN. Court intrigues! Poisonings! Bastards and hidden births! Great to read... literal hell to live through. Everyone wanted everyone fucking dead, and all I wanted? Was to marry far, FAR into the countryside. Live a boring ass life.

But apparently I blinked funny. Or was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Wore the wrong fucking dress (well, not dress, but you get the idea). Because next thing I knew? Yandere Sr., of Yandere and Yandere, is looking at me! And not in that "oh, what an interesting bug" sort of way! Look looking!

I didn't know shit about him! Yes, his son. But him? Nothing!

Well... aside from the fact he was a VERY convenient Widower. Like... the SECOND he got a kid out of his arranged wife. It was all very "everyone suspected but no one could prove shit" Sort of thing.

And? Said son? Becomes a major antagonist in the book. Until he "embarrasses" his Father by going too far. Implied gruesome end to follow. Plot moves on. Which? Is all well and good FOR THEM. But what about me?! I had nothing to go on! Aside from "Aaah ha ha ha! Run." Which? Didn't fucking help, in the end! Still... s-still ended up married.

Though, my new "son" ended up dead, in relatively short order. Apparently wasn't too pleased to have a step-mom. Tried to do something about it. Disappeared between one day and the next. And now no one is allowed to so much as talk about him. But hey! It's apparently fine! Because at some point? We're gonna make a better one!

"Your thoughts are far away, Love. Should I help you concentrate?" Husband muses, from the edge of the bed. I jerk back as I jolt violently to the present, focusing on the threat. He looks pleased. "Better~, this wife should focus only on her Lord. And yet... once again she's wandered. Tried to run. This lord wonders what he should do, hmm?"

Scrunched up in a ball on the bed, I hoped the answer was fucking "nothing". Or maybe, perhaps, "leave". Inching backwards, like the hunted animal I felt like, I wasn't fast enough to avoid the hand that shot out. Capturing my ankle in shackle strong grip.

It wasn't crushing. Left no bruises. Yet the touch felt scalding, as his hand imprisoned yet cradled my ankle. Dragged my leg free of my curled up little ball of self. I froze, as I felt his other hand gentle running the tips of his fingers up and down my shin. Up and down, up and down. As though just feeling my skin.

"Should he make sure his wife can not run?" This grip tightened, nearly bruising. His other gripping farther up my leg. As though casually preparing to snap bones. "Or perhaps, he should chain you away? Hmm? This Lords wife is a troublesome girl. Causing trouble as she does... ah~, what to do with her..."

Terrified, sat froze. Mind numb. Please. Gods. Please, please, please! D-Don't. I was shaking. Could feel tears starting to build. Watched, helplessly, as he examined me. Something pleased, satisfied even, creeped into his expression. And without breaking eye contact, he lifted my leg towards his face, to gently kiss the skin right above my ankle bone. It could have been tender... if it didn't feel like a threat.

"This wife is so very lucky, that this Lord loves her so. That he would never."

It was almost mocking, in how sweet the words curled. As though suggesting that because this one thing was too far, he was a good man. As though suggesting that he would do far worse to others, in my place. But don't worry. You won't be hurt. See how benevolent he is?

"But come, let us not discuss your punishments tonight, hmm?"

Like a predator, stalking his prey, he crawled up onto the bed. Closer and closer. There was no where to run. Was this it? W-was this the day he... he-? Looming, on his knees, above my curled up ball of fear, he effortlessly worked his arm in and around my waist. Dragging me closer. All but into his lap.

"You are tired. Upset. Have made such messes for this husband to clean." He murmured, face pressed close. Breathe ghosting against my neck, my ear. All I could smell was rich soaps and smoke. "We can deal with this tomorrow. For now, it's time for bed. So go ahead, rest sweetly in my arms, Love.

"It's where you belong."

[rawme-price]

No pressure or anything but I absolutely love your writing! I'm not sure if you have already, but could you expand on or wrote a part 2 to the Soap and kinda creepy new recruit? I read it and loved it! Again, you don't have to if you don't want to!!!

You were already a bit off-putting in a good day, making small observations here and there about the effectiveness of weapons or certain interrogation techniques. The only people who seemed to tolerate u were soap and ghost.

Ghost, because he actually likes to chat with you about that stuff. Soap, because he has been maybe-fantasizing about all the violent comments you make to him but is in denial about it.

Which makes ur demeanor after an op so much more difficult for soap. Ur covered in enemy blood and breathing hard, a quiet and dangerous look on ur face. You look beautiful. Soap cant help but follow u off the humvee, pressing into ur personal space just to feel ur warmth. You have blood on ur lashes that soap maybe wants to lick off.

Its only when ur halfway down the hall and soap gets a bit overconfident with his hand placement that you shove him against the wall. It knocks the air out of soaps chest. "I could gut you right now, sergeant." You hum, eyes sweeping over his face like hes a specimen to he studied. "Youve left your gaurd down since we stepped in the humvee. You'd be easy to kill."

Soap has to actively suppress a shudder at your words. He feels your gloves hands take the knife from his thigh holster. "Youve got a nice strong heart, it would make a good blood spatter."

He thinks, for a terrifying moment that you genuinely will, but instead you back off. Still holding his knife, you give him a nod and stalk away. Soap turns to walk the other way, and down the hall he can see a very judgemental gaz watching him.

(Pt 1 here)

[mari0n3ttes]

Am I the only one who thinks Just Dance comics would be a really cool idea?

Maybe it’s the DC enthusiast in me (I’ve never read a single DC comic in my life), but I think Just Dance comics would be totally superstar.

And a lot of other notable video game franchises have comics! Super Mario, The Legend of Zelda (I think “manga” would be the more appropriate term), Sonic, and Splatoon (again, “manga” would be the more appropriate term but still a book) are a few examples. Given Just Dance’s popularity, why not give them comics?

It would also be an excuse for another interest of mine to have comics 😋 (some of my other interests include DC, Super Mario, Splatoon, Avatar: The Last Airbender/The Legend of Korra [I’m way more of an ATLA fan but I like TLOK too] if you were curious)

So yeah. Ubisoft. Just Dance comics. Make it happen.

[theoats99]

Remmick is particular about what of his long life to share with you, only giving bits and pieces at a time, leaving you to attempt to put it all together. But when it’s late, or early you could say, when the sun is just about to rise and he’s resting in bed with you his walls shatter away. Both of you lay naked against the sheets, his own eyelids drooping lower fighting to stay awake. 

“Have you ever turned anyone?” You whisper, his eyes focus on you as he nods. 

“Oh ya, a lot.” It comes in a slur, his voice changing into something it used to be, something he always hides from you behind that southern charm he speaks. 

“What happened to them?” He shifts to his back, allowing you to see his side profile, from the structure of his jaw to the outline of his nose in the candlelight. 

“Most of ‘em died, some I let go.” His voice is soft, broken sounding. You knew about hunters, certain people who hunted monsters, monsters like him and those he turned. You know he’s dangerous, a killer, but still allow him into your home, you bed, he’s your killer, your monster.

“Why did you let them go?” His head turns to you, eyes locking with your own.

“They wanted to go, to be free, so I let them.” His voice is deeper in this accent, something far too pretty sounding for a town like this. 

“Would you ever turn me?” His eyes go wide for a moment before he turns his head back, looking up at the ceiling again. He’d never bitten you, instead cutting you places like your thighs or stomach, he’d told you the bite would turn you into what he is, it would kill you.

“Maybe.” He says, voice hardly a whisper. “One day, when you’ve had your chance to enjoy the sun, enjoy life.” He turns his head back to you, you shimmy closer to him, giving him a quick kiss against his lips. As you hover over him, one elbow propping you up, he just looks dazed below.

“I enjoy the life I have with you.” The admission brings something to his eyes, those pretty baby blues, so pretty you wondered if they were like that before he was a monster or if they had changed to that when he turned, another beautiful thing about him to lure folks in. 

“Your so perfect darlin’” His southern charm is back, his arms dragging you down against his chest. you don’t mind the heat as you lay on his chest, both of your sweat mingling together again for the second time that night.

[journey-of-daydreams]

An Unavoidable Presence [Rewrite & Reader] [Platonic]

Rewrite is rarely subtle when they want affection. aka Rewrite conspicuously demands attention & affection.

───{⭕⭕⭕}───

Type: Oneshot Genre: Fluff Content Warnings: None Stage: 3 Rings Note: Contains platonic cuddling.

[Link to Rewrite & Reader Masterpost]

───{⭕⭕⭕}───

It's the dead of night, and a campfire crackles in front of you. You sit in front of it, staring into it in thought.

You hear rustling coming from the bushes. You turn to it, seeing the top of Rewrite's head poking out. After a beat, they fully pop out of the bush.

"Hi there, friend!" They greet you cheerfully. "Hope you don't mind the company."

"Oh, I never do." You retort lightheartedly... And watch them as they proceed to walk over and sit directly between you and the campfire, blocking the light. You give them a bit of a miffed look, but decide not to protest.

The campfire's light hits their back and casts a shadow on their face, giving them an honestly ominous appearance as they stare into you.

You wait for them to speak. But they do not. Instead, they continue staring into you. It's pretty dark with them blocking the light now.

Alright, they're waiting for something.

"...Do you need something?" You ask dryly, yet playfully.

"Yes!" They chime. You wait for them to add more information.

They do not.

"...Well, what do you-" You begin, but you stumble on your words when they abruptly start crawling towards you on all fours. Your brows furrow in confusion.

"What are you doing?" You question with a chuckle, bemused.

They don't respond. Instead, they crouch close to the ground... In an all too familiar pose.

Oh no.

They're about to pounce on you.

You quickly try to scramble up and get out of the way, but you're too slow.

Rewrite tackles you, you get knocked to the ground and let out an "oof"- And you find yourself now trapped in Rewrite's hug.

You squirm a little, trying to get into a more comfortable position since Rewrite oh so kindly tackled you onto your side. As soon as you stop fidgeting, Rewrite lays their head on top of yours.

You sigh. With no other option, you hug them back.

"You could've just asked for a hug." You retort to them. That familiar, out of place laugh plays from them.

"I could've!" They agree. They pull you in tighter now that you've found a comfortable position. "But I didn't."

"I noticed." You deadpan at them. "...I would have said yes if you just asked."

Rewrite gasps in offense, apparently. "How was I supposed to know that!"

"I've said yes so many times," You exasperatedly explain, but stop yourself when you realize they're definitely just screwing with you. "Shut up, you did know that."

They play a harsh pfrftft, akin to blowing a raspberry. "You wish I did."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at whatever that's supposed to mean. "Whatever. Was that enough attention for you, Rewrite?"

"Hmmmm." Rewrite hums, their head floating off their body as one of their hands unwinds itself from you to tap their chin.

"Nope! いくらでも欲しいくらいだよ！" Their head goes straight back to resting on top of yours and their arm wraps back around you.

You exhale sharply, both as a laugh and a scoff. They won't let you go anytime soon. Your hand strokes their back, running along their quills. You can see Rewrite's smile from their position.

The two of you lay there, in peaceful silence.

…

…

After a few minutes, Rewrite nuzzles their head on the top of yours, and finally speaks.

"Okay! My attention quotas have been fulfilled." They announce, pleased.

"Perfect… So can you let me go now?" You ask eagerly. You're starting to feel uncomfortable from laying on Rewrite's arms, they're pressing into your back.

"I could!" They retort oh so innocently, mischief dripping in their voice.

A beat passes. They don't let you go.

You start to squirm out of their grasp, legs lightly kicking them.

Rewrite emits a high pitched squeal of protest. But you escape—or, rather, they let you escape, as you know better—and scramble away. They're left on the ground, face-down in defeat. A terrible tragedy.

You watch them for several seconds. They stay laying face-down in the grass, barely moving. They just stay there, dedicated to playing dead or... Something. You grin, amused.

But you know better. Should they suddenly decide that wasn't enough attention for them... There will be no escape.

You run before they can change their mind.