#And every little thought. Every little fantasy every little moment in my brain and I'm feeling guilty

[morningmask27]

My brain will try to come up with every little thing in the world to make me feel guilty for having a crush

[gremlingottoosilly]

(Idk if ur taking requests since it says "asked closed" but I just HAD to get this thought out of my brain)

Monster!König x Quiet reader

since I'm quiet and just like to listen not talk to ppl I got this idea that reader listens to König talk about his day 🤷‍♀️ you can add more but that's just my little idea :>

(I'm srry if it's bad, this is my first request lol)

Naturally, Konig isn't the most talkative person. He is fine with letting others talk, as long as they won't forget to listen to his orders - and the monster version isn't all that different. He doesn't believe others to be worthy of his words - of his attention, even. Most of his soldiers never heard him talk outside of a few taunts here and there and some orders that get passed through his officers. He was fine with letting you be quiet at first. Humans should be afraid of him - his little human wife should be timid and shy, so he is glad that you're smart enough to close your mouth and listen to him instead of pathetically trying to argue with your mate. It plays into his ego - into his fantasies of being this cool stoic knight with his shy human wife who knows when to shut up and how precious her husband is. You're literally so freaking adorable - he can't wait to show you off in front of other monsters. His pretty little mate is tame without even the need to be tamed - so, so precious. He starts to talk first in the conversations. Knowing that you won't ruin the moment with your dumb mumbling or your beginning to let you go, he can talk about everything. His current missions and objectives, who is probably going to die on the next task and which soldier he hates most. Talks about supply lines and how fucking expensive it is to try and find more human mates for his guys - he would always kiss you after this, mumbling something about how lucky he got with a human who knows better than to speak their mind. Would often praise you for being quiet and obedient, even if he knows you're like this only because you're scared. He opens up more and more to you - whispering some soft things into your ear while he fucks you. Making it his goal to make you as loud during sex as possible - forcing moans out of your throat and making sure you're calling his name every time he makes you cum. You're so embarrassed during sex, so scared of actually allowing him to treat you like this...but there is nothing else you can do about it - you're just getting on your tummy like a good girl and hope that if you push your face into the pillows, he won't make you scream like he usually does...you're wrong, of course.

[after-witch]

Eight Deadly Mistakes [Yandere Alastor x Reader]

Title: Eight Deadly Mistakes [Yandere Alastor x Reader]

Synopsis: You've made a lot of mistakes in Hell, but this one has to be the worst.

Birthday fic for @absolute-flaming-trash who is absolutely awesome!

word count: 1899ish

notes: yandere, abuse, obsessive behavior, humiliation, I'm joining the 'alastor yanks reader by a chain' club

Hell was full of mistakes, and you figured that yours amounted to a sizable chunk--particularly since meeting Alastor. Of the countless mistakes within that particular bucket, there were at least seven distinct mistakes that led you to this very moment. 

One. It was a mistake to thank Alastor for holding the door open for you, the day you entered some run-down market in search of a book. Your voice had been surprised and sweet and ever-so-thankful.

Two. It was a mistake to let him strike up a conversation with you a few minutes later, and not pay attention to the horrified looks that even the most hardened patrons in the shop gave you.

Three. It was a mistake, later on, to think he was your friend; to believe that the shared meals, the late night discussions about music and books and little topics you’d forgotten you enjoyed, were a sign of pleasant companionship. 

Four. It was a mistake to sell your soul to Alastor, after his honeyed offers of protection from the seedier elements of Hell, his casual assurance that your friendship would go unaltered. 

Five. It was a mistake to move into the Hotel when Alastor asked, and not think there was some ulterior motive behind it all. 

Six. It was a mistake to think Alastor was actually kind, just because he was helping Charlie with her hotel, and seemingly protected those within it. 

Seven. It was a mistake to, on this day, ask Alastor if he would give your soul back, now that you’d decided to aim for heaven. Because you were friends, and he cared about you, and therefore, he should want what’s best for you--which is to get (you pardon yourself the phrase) the hell out of Hell. 

Every one of these seven mistakes--the last, you must admit, being the most significant--led you to here. 

To you, trembling on the floor, the tangy copper of blood in your mouth from where your teeth rattled against the end of your tongue when Alastor’s palpable anger made your knees literally buckle. 

“I… I don’t understand,” you spit out, voice trembling as much as your body. “I thought--I thought you…” The words don’t need to be spoken for Alastor to know them.

I thought you liked me, I thought you were my friend, I thought you would be happy to do it.

“You thought what, exactly, my dear?” 

A low electric current buzzed in the air, making the lights flicker once, twice, and again before he continued.

“That I would simply let you go?” He laughed, but there was nothing pleasant about the sound. It was full of mockery and something else, something metal and cold. 

Your stomach squirmed awfully. It was not a feeling you’d ever experienced around Alastor, despite some other’s trepidation around him. He’d never given you a reason to feel that way.

Until today.

Until you asked Alastor to let your soul go, and the room seemed to fizz with electrical interference that left the lights sparking and 

Your eyes went wide. And your brain, stupid thing that it was, pieced things together that you had been all too naively eager to ignore until now. 

The stories of Alastor’s past that you’d heard in snatches and dismissed as jealous fantasy, probably all deriving from Vox and his ilk. The way people who knew Alastor from before his sabbatical tended to steer as clear of him as possible. 

Or how Alastor always insisted you try the things he liked--clothes he left in your room (even before you told him where you lived, before the Hotel); music he insisted you’d admire more than your current collection of alt-rock CDs; foods that were tastier, he said, than your favorites. 

“I didn’t think--” The words stuck to your mouth until you forced them out. “I didn’t think you’d be mad that I wanted to get better, repent and--and get out of here.”

Alastor, despite his smile, did not look impressed.

You didn’t have time to flinch as he swung his microphone down and out, pressing it against your throat.

“Don’t act surprised now. After all,” The microphone dug into the flesh of your neck, lifting your chin until you were looking at him through blurs of oncoming tears. He continued, voice softer, missing most of its usual radio sound. “You made me like this.” 

You wanted to shake your head, but the microphone kept you only capable of looking up and straight at him. His smile made you sick. 

“I didn’t do anything,” you said, voice light, but not quite naive anymore; you didn’t fully believe the words now, and your voice wavered. 

Even if you didn’t mean to do anything to draw the attention of the radio demon, that didn’t mean Alastor wasn’t clearly--wasn’t clearly… affected by you. In some way that you didn’t understand; moreover, you didn’t want to understand it. 

What you thought had been a surprising friendship made in the bowels of hell was something else entirely, and you hated the newfound knowledge. 

Whatever it was that Alastor actually felt for you, it was dark and awful, like sprinkles of mold you find underneath the bathroom sink. Damp and rotting and unwanted. 

“You,” he said, pressing the microphone harder into your throat for emphasis, “have been quite the busy bee when it comes to me, my dear.” He sighed in a way you’d heard him do a hundred times before. But now it feels wrong; sticky, oozing. “I’d never given much thought to… certain endeavors before you. And now I find myself distracted.”

His neck turned again, cracking, and a song began to play from somewhere. 

“Distracted?” You asked, feeling sicker and sicker. 

“Oh, yes,” he answered, dragging out the word. “Quite unlike me, if I must admit it. And yet there’s something about you that’s been making me…”

He didn’t finish. The song got louder, mingling in with the ambience of the room. It was almost soft and wistful, except for the lyrics that made your skin feel cold, repeating on a loop.

And you’re mine… mine… mine…

“And you thought…” His voice continued, each word punctuated by an awful radio crackle that made goosebumps blossom up your arms. “That you would get to simply leave me after all I’ve put into you?”

All he’s put into you.

The dresses, the food, the guidance on what to listen to and how to dance; who to talk to and who to avoid. Advice from a friend, you thought. Advice from someone stronger and maybe smarter.

“Well,” he said, almost cheery now, pulling the microphone away from your sore and probably bruising throat. “I trust you’ve learned your lesson and we can avoid this…” A crackle, short and low. “Unpleasantness in the future.”

You should have said that yes, you learned your lesson; yes, you won’t ask again. But you didn’t. Instead you swallowed hard, feeling the ache from where his microphone pressed in, and added an eighth mistake to your list.

“We can avoid it if you release me from my contract--if you give me back my soul.” 

“Well,” he repeated. And this time, his voice was muffled by a brief, shrieking radio frequency. “Perhaps a reminder is in order.”

The reminder came with cold metal choking your throat; a vivid green chain led straight from your imprisoned neck to Alastor’s hand. 

One trembling hand came up to feel the collar. It was real. It was there. And the chain, too, was solid and unbreakable. 

It was a shocking sight. 

You’d seen the chains of other owned souls before. Angel’s, in particular, when you’d accidentally witnessed an argument between him and Valentino. But there had never been a singular thought given to the fact that you, too, must have had chains. Alastor never showed them to you and until now, had never seen fit to remind you about your lack of freedom.

Until today.

Your surprise and fear made you stupid, and you tried to yank yourself away from him; he held fast to the chain and began to wind it around his hand, forcing you to look upwards, speaking all the while.

“You are never to ask me to release your contract again. And you are certainly never to even entertain the silly notion of leaving me, now or in the future. Do you understand?”

An awful, slimy feeling overtook your gut. He owned you, and he had owned you for some time. You just had been closing your eyes to that reality.

A reality that was now choking you.

“Well?”

You nodded. You didn’t think you could speak, not now. Not to him. 

But it wasn’t good enough. He yanked on the chain, choking you. 

“I don’t believe I heard you, dear.”

“Yes.” The word was spoken through gritted teeth. It tasted like tears. 

“Yes what?”  The grin on his smile widened deceptively as he yanked against the chain, jerking your head upward. It hurt inside and out. 

It was so unfair, that your heart could hurt like this, even after you were dead. 

“Yes, sir.”

That should have been the end of it. He should have let go of the chain and let you slink off in fear and shame, off to sob in your bedroom over the sudden turn of events. 

Instead, he leaned down, and for a moment, his eyes glowed in a painful flash. 

“You can do better than that, my dear, can’t you, to the person that owns your very soul?” 

His hand wrapped around the chain, shortening it even further as he leaned in so close you could smell the rot around him. But it didn’t matter that you wanted to pull away from it, because he held you--literally, held the chains that kept you bound to him. Forever. 

Yes, he owned your soul. He owned you.

“Yes, boss?” you murmured, copying what Husker sometimes said; you were unable to look at him anymore as humiliated, hot tears spilled down your cheeks. 

In an instant, the chain was gone, and you fell to the ground with a clumsy thud. Your chin hit the hard floor before you could brace yourself with your hands. 

“Wonderful,” he said, praising, almost cooing. His neck cracked to the side and you imagined his bones shifting in impossible ways to achieve it. “I suppose I should remind you who you belong to when you get out of sorts like this, my dear.” His smile widened. “A healthy reminder now and then is good for the soul!” 

He laughed. Whether he thought it was a joke or not was unclear. 

“Although, I hope I won’t have to remind you too soon. I do so enjoy your company more when you’re not being…” He waved his hand in the air, glancing up at the ceiling for effect. “Stubborn.” His eyes darted to you, accompanied by the faint sound of a radio hum. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” you breathed out without hesitation, unable to stop shaking from your position on the floor.

“Good girl,” he said, patting the air above your head. You watched his footsteps until he paused at the threshold of the door. You heard his neck snap as he turned it back around--you didn’t dare look up to see. 

“Don’t forget to tidy up before dinner.  I’ve left a dress in your bedroom that I’m sure will look lovely on you.”

[kiefbowl]

one of my lil feminist pet peeves is this sort of pervasive but unspecific idea of a sort of historical female stupor. it's unspecific because it's so assumed and presumed that people aren't even aware they believe it enough to question it, and our historical record pretty much confirms it by the fact that female history is largely ignored and undervalued to be archived by contemporaries, and then that lack is largely reconstructed and interpreted by men in the future. i.e. - women and their contributions to society are erased. but they surely existed, they surely had great impact, even in the worst of female subjugation.

"women wouldn't have talked like that, thought like that, behaved like that" has little and less proof so much of the time. I'm not sure why I, a human woman, would be so different than a human woman 500 years ago. Or even 1,000 years ago. Or more. If I can perceive the illogical fallacies of my modern day society, why would a woman before me be incapable? If I can feel stymied and undervalued, why wouldn't that be the same for other women before me? I just don't like entertaining even for a moment the sort of male fantasy that women turn off when men leave the room, and only have the thoughts and beliefs as their men allow them to have. I would rather imagine the most anachronistic female fantasy possible, because even if I would be wrong, I think I would be closer to the truth than the non-existent, compliant, passive, dullards men want us all to believe all women were prior to our most accessible shared history. It was always our grandmothers "starting to get up to trouble" - but of course never their grandmothers. I just don't believe that. I don't care, I just don't believe it! I think my great great grandmothers were loud mouthed, angry, and smart enough. I certainly didn't inherit this personality and big brain just from my catholic school education and my centrist parents. Certainly if I'm human, they all were, too.

I would much rather believe women had transgressive and revolutionary thoughts, thoughts dangerous to men, all the time in every era and corner of the globe at every level of society, and those thoughts systematically scrubbed and denied then think for a moment women believed the world was always right and just to them.

[satansindexfinger]

Hc of The brothers and accidental kiss

Note: Thanks for the request! I'm a sucker for these ahshd

Warnings: none

Summary: You leaned over the demons shoulder, intending on handing him a report/class notes. You called his name while doing so, naturally prompting him to turn his head your direction... only for your lips to connect due to the miscalculation of distance between your faces.

Fluff; GN! MC, Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeous;Beelzebub; Belphegor

Lucifer

Oh.

O h. Lucifer certainly didn't expect to meet your lips when he was about to thank you for handing the paperwork. He had been too engrossed in his work to notice where you were situated.

Aside from his pupils dilating, he makes no visable reaction. Expects you to be the first to separate from the kiss. Definently not because he's internally flustered beyond belief and stuck in place. No sir.

Once you pull away his eyes will linger on you for a few beats, taking in your expression; you liked that, right? Your face is adorable when you're flushed like that. It takes Lucifer every bit of will he has not to let his own blush show.

Has the nerve to appear completely unbothered and even smirk.

"Well.. that was unexpected. I must say, I am kind of dissappointed - it wasn't a proper kiss. How about we try that again, if you don't mind? Come closer."

Mammon

It takes a moment for Mammon's brain to send him signals about what's happening. As soon as it does, this man is shooting backwards so fast he trips over air and falls on his back.

An absolute mess. Stuttering, blushing, covering his mouth, the whole nine yards. His fingers keep trailing on his lips, you notice. Cannot look you in the eyes to save his life.

"W-what's the big idea, sneakin' up on me like that?! Scared the crap outta me.. give me a warnin' n-next time, ya dumb human! How bold can ya get, doin' that to me?!"

Mammon, you're the one who turned.

Once he's calmed down he gets back up and makes an attempt to face you again. Albeit with a blush going up his ears and fingers still on his lips; as if he's savoring your exchange.

"No fair.. I wanted our first kiss to be special, damnit. So this one doesn't count, okay?!"

Immediate regret felt and tantrum thrown after he realizes what he just said.

Leviathan

If you thought Mammon had a freakout... oh boy. Levi is ten the times embarrassed and overreacting. Looks like he's committed every possible crime; he's that emotional about it.

Both hands covering his overly red face, speech too frantic for you to understand aside from a few 'sorry's and some self deprecating comments.

The situation reminds Levi of a certain anime and that only makes him more flushed, and somewhat wistful. He liked it, dont get him wrong! He just thinks you might have not appreciated it like he did.

Please reassure him. The avatar of envy needs it as to not regret it for the rest of his life.

"A-are you sure it's okay? I mean, we just k-kissed, y'know?! This kind of thing only happens in my fantasy world.. wait, h-hold on, I didn't mean-"

Has trouble looking you in the eyes after that little incident. Keeps the memory of it close to his heart though, and always will.

Satan

It takes him off guard for about two seconds. In those two seconds he debates on whether he should deepen the kiss, since it's something he's been wanting for awhile, or if he should pull away. He decides on the latter as he wants to confirm your feelings (if you have any) before doing that.

"Ah.. sorry about that. I didn't realize you were that close."

Treats it like it's no big deal, but his heart it hammering inside his chest. And you don't miss the faint blush on his cheeks as he coughs in his hand in an attempt to change topic.

Thanks you for the notes and makes casual conversation, hoping to change the mood and pretend the kiss never happened.

Satan's eyes seem to, unconsciously, trail towards your lips when he's talking to you for the next week or so.

Try as he might he cannot forget that brief moment and will bring it up to you, asking if you liked it and if you'd rather get a proper kiss from him.

Asmodeous

Surprised as he is, Asmo wastes no time in keeping your lips pressed just a second longer than would be considered accidental. It's his way of enticing you, hoping you liked the taste of him enough to ask for more.

Pretends to be shocked, squealing and giggling like a high school girl. All the while teasing you like

"Oh, sorry honey! Then again.. was it really an accident~? It's okay to admit you just wanted to kiss me! I would never deny you that. You were so sneaky with it too~ Ahh, it's adorable!"

You'd think the avatar of lust doesn't think much of it.. if it weren't for all the situations he'd tried to get both of you into where just a turn of his head would result in you "accidentally" kissing again.

Is honestly flabbergasted you don't intentionally seek out his lips after that! Maybe he should try harder to captivate you next time~

Beelzebub

It takes you pulling away sharply for Beel to realize what had just happened. He's a bit frozen in place, the hands holding his snacks at a standstill while a faint blush decorates his face.

"Ah, sorry... thanks for the homework, MC."

His face doesn't return to its normal colour the rest of the day. He apologizes again if he's made you uncomfortable, even if it was an accident and he had no way of predicting it.

It is kind of a problem for Beel.. he enjoyed the taste of your lips, brief as it was, more than any kind of food he'd put past them. He's hungry in a way he didn't even conceive before.

But Beel is respectful. Will not bring the incident up until you do, and if you do he will make it known he enjoyed it.

"Sorry again, MC. It's just... I want more. You don't have to kiss me again if you don't want to but.. Could you?"

Belphegor

Tries to appear unbothered and apathetic but the colour on his cheeks, going all the way up his ears gives his true feelings away. He cannot meet your eyes too, trying to distract himself.

"Jeez... thanks for the papers, but you didn't have to get all close like that. What if I butted my head on yours? You'd probably be crying instead of giving me the face you are right now."

Belphie, you can't even see their face with how you refuse to look at them-

Waves his hand in an attempt to dismiss you and assures you he's got whatever it is he needed the notes for.

Although as soon as you make your move to leave, Belphie is giving you a confused look and tugging at your sleeve.

"Really? You're gonna pretend this didn't happen and just leave me like that? I don't think so. Either tell me what you thought about it or just.. let me redo it."

[adventuringblind]

A Little Lost

Liam Lawson x Reader x Oscar Piastri x Logan Sargeant

Genre: fluff and hurt/comfort

Summary: With her ADHD driving her mind into a whirlwind, she ends up slipping in public and unable to find the one person she needs. Luckily Oscar and Logan are there to help.

Warnings: non-sexual age play, agere/age-regression, panic attacks, implied trauma, non-sexual use of daddy

Notes: I needed this for myself, honestly!! I hope the requester finds comfort in it like I did!

Side note: age-regression is NOT a kink. If you're going to request it, please don't make it a smut request. It gives ya girl mixed signals. AGEPLAY is a kink and has dd/lg dynamics. Please remember this when requesting... I'm begging T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Everything is overwhelming at the moment. He thoughts are running in a million different directions. The noise and bustle of the paddock is pulling Her every which way.

She needs Liam. Without a shadow of a doubt, she needs him right this second.

Her mental state is dancing between headspaces. Her little self is attempting to break free of the confines she's put the girl in. To young and to alone to be out in this environment.

The alphatauri garage feels so far away. It's an endless walk she's been attempting to make for what feels like hours now. Liam, she just needs to get to him.

Panic rises every time someone bumps into her. She squeaks out a sorry, only to be met with annoyed grunts. She needs her daddy to make it better. No - Liam - she needs Liam.

The catalyst is someone shoving her away and complaining that she should pay more attention. She is paying attention. Her brain just has thirty tabs open, three of them have commercials playing, another is driving her senses wild, and where the heck is her da- Liam?!

The shove sends her tumbling to the ground. Her elbow hits the hard ground on impact. It's bleeding, and she's officially offline.

Her little self takes over, tears welling in her eyes as she hides around the corner and tugs at her hair. A desperate attempt to settle the whirlwind of her thoughts.

She needs her daddy.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Logan and Oscar are animatedly chatting about the race as they walk through the dwindling crowd. Liam had texted about a longer debrief and had asked them to check up on his girlfriend since she wasn't answering her phone.

They'd been an item the last couple of years like Oscar and Logan have. It's an interesting and often tense dynamic. The four of them are all extremely close, but neither of the couples have openly talked about any kind of open relationship.

Oscar and Logan have. It's often a source of interesting fantasies and warm fuzzy feelings. They say nothing, though. Scared of losing their closest friends in the pursuit of something mildly taboo still.

Logan is lost in his thoughts when Oscar stops suddenly. He hushes him and listens intently. It's then that Logan catches the muffled sobs.

They take off in the direction of the crying. Neither of them are ones to let somebody suffer when they can help it.

They turn the corner, and there sits their original target. She curled up with hair in every direction, and her fingers rake through it in a violent manner.

Logan approaches her like she's a wounded animal. He's not at all hurt when she curls farther into her corner.

"Osc, we're gonna need to call Liam."

"Already on it!"

She perks up at hearing Liam's name. Eyes wide and teary, but at least she doesn't look scared of the Logan for the moment. "Daddy? Are callin' daddy?"

Oh. Oh.

She's - how did they put it? - regressed, in age. They talked about it in passing but never elaborated. Logan and Oscar had never bothered to look into it. They were protective over it and they wanted to respect that.

He's regretting that decision just a tad now. He might be more prepared on what to do if he'd bothered to figure out what it is that happens to her.

The obvious thing is that she's vulnerable and scared. "Yeah, we're calling him." He smiles warmly at her. "Can you tell me what happened? Why you're so sad?" He keeps his tone calm to hopefully ease her into a less anxious state.

She untucks herself and shows Logan her red and bleeding elbow. "Was pushed."

It's not a terrible scrape, not one to be worried about, but it is getting on all her clothes. He'll have to ask about the pushing later.

Oscar comes back and sighs in annoyance. "He said another thirty minutes at least of debrief. I feel bad for worrying him now."

Oscar sees where the two are crouched and throws Logan a confused look. "Is everything alright?"

"Well, I think someone needs a band-aid for her elbow and somewhere to wait for daddy." Logan tries to communicate that there is more going on here. Oscar looks between the two, and then his face lights up in some kind realization.

"Lando already left for the day, so my room should be safe. And I know he has crayon band-aids in his room."

She considers the idea. Carefully studying both of their faces for some hint of malicious intent. "Daddy said no strangers."

Logan exaggerates a pondering face. "Are me and Osc strangers? I thought we were best friends!"

She shakes her head yes and moves closer to the American. A reassurance that she does consider him a friend. "More then friend!" She leans up to Logan and motions to lend his ear so she can whisper into it. "Daddy says loves." She giggles, and Logan has to use all his strength not to look dumbfounded at the confession.

Oscar and Logan wrangle her the back way to the McLaren motor home. Their success in going mostly unnoticed has both males breathing in relief as they step into the saftey of Oscar's room.

The Aussie ducks out to grab the band-aid from his teammates' room, and Logan is left to sit with the girl currently looking confused and intrigued. She hesitantly grabs the stuffed koala sitting on the shelf. The one Logan had gotten for him as a joke before they started dating.

"Has name?" Her fingers stroke the soft fluff of the toy.

"I'm not sure. Should we ask Osc when he gets back?" She nods once, then comes and sits on the couch with him. The stuffed koala cradled in her arms like it's the most precious thing she's ever seen.

Logan is still trying to comprehend what she meant earlier. Is it just her small brain misinterpreting something Liam said? Or is this an honest confession that she doesn't currently understand the implications of? He doesn't want to get his hopes up and settles on the second option for now.

Oscar sneaks back in the door and starts unwrapping the bangade. It is, in fact, shaped like a red crayon. Her eyes light up even as he washes the cut and places the band-aid on it.

"There we go, all better now." Oscar smiles at her as she hugs his koala.

"Thank you."

She's completely entranced in the stuffed toy again. Logan taps her on the nose to get her attention. "Did you want to ask Osc your question?"

She makes an 'o' shape with her mouth. "Does koala have a name?" She looks up at him with expectant eyes.

Oscar considers. "Hmmm, I don't think he does. Would you like to give him one?"

She takes careful consideration, weighing all the possible options. "Koko."

"Love it."

"Very creative!"

Her expression changes into something sad. Her eyes once again glassy like before. "Will daddy like?" She curls up in Logans lap with the toy.

"Yeah, he'll love it. Certainly not as much as he loves you."

She hums and closes her eyes. It's adorable and peaceful. "Do you think Liam might let us do this with her again?"

"If he doesn't kill us first. Speaking of, I should let him know where we are."

♡♡♡♡♡

Liam likes to think he's relatively quick. He runs often enough and has good stamina.

This is the fastest he's ever moved in his entire life. He grabs all their stuff with a speed that shocks both Daniel and Yuki.

"What's got you in a hurry, mate?"

"Just eager to see my girl, is all."

Daniel shoots him a wink. "Have a good time!" Liam can only laugh nervously in response. It's certainly not the good time he's thinking of. No, he'd promised her a nice dinner tonight.

Now he's thinking he might have to shift plans. Which - he's not upset about. Liam loves when she's in headspace because it gives him an excuse to do things he wouldn't normally. As in, she's obsessed with cars, and he gets to spend time building the most intricate tracks with household items, blocks, and an ungodly amount of Legos that they have at home. She's always sad when they have to leave them for long periods of time, but he brings a portion with just in case.

He makes for the McLaren garage and is greeted by Oscar out front. It's odd, knowing that their secret is out and yet the Aussie is looking at him affectionately.

They make light conversation while they venture into the building. It feels normal still, nothing to awkward aside from the fact Liam goes on rabbit trails every ten seconds. It's the reason Oscar knows how to handle Lando and his chaotic communication tactics.

Liam mentally slaps himself. Now is not the time to be drooling over his friend's stability and emotional intelligence. He should really just confess. They'd talked about it, they both want it, but that could result in rejection.

Oscar opens the door and slips inside. Liam takes a second to observe the scene in front of him. His girl, happily laying her head in Logan's lap rambling about the koala in her hands.

"Look who I found!" Oscar gestures to Liam. Her head perks up and she scrambles off the couch, slipping to the floor before throwing herself at Liam.

"Hi, love bug." Liam attempts to get on the floor without falling as she clings to him. He fails miserably as the topple over. "Were you good for Oscar and Logan?" She hums something into his chest that he can't decipher.

"She was an angel, honestly." Logan leans forward on the couch. It looks like he's contemplating something, shooting stead looks at Oscar.

With effort, Liam finally gets them situated on the floor. "Do you know what might have triggered this?"

"She scraped her elbow, was that it maybe?"

Liam ponders the suggestion. His eyes find the crayon band-aid that wasn't there the last time he saw her. He sighs, hopefully she was just overwhelmed, and this wasn't an altercation of some kind. "She's struggled with - uh, being shoved around - I guess. You know, home life things."

"Maybe she was shoved and fell which caused the panic attack." Oscar eyes them sadly.

"Well, you two feel up to helping us get out of here?"

♡♡♡♡♡

Oscar doesn't understand how Liam makes this look normal. HAs this been going on under their noses this whole time? If only he could go back in time, rewind a bit and do some research. He and logan could help out if they wanted.

She was falling asleep in the car and still looks like she might clock out in the elevator. Still, Oscar can't help imagining the four of them together, like this.

Liam twirls her around as they walk until she almost falls over. She falls into him, laughing and smiling, the injury from earlier forgotten about.

Their space is comfortable and lived in. The two even slip into a routine, pulling out food for dinner. He whispers something to her, and she skitters off.

They pull chairs out from around the small table. Liam offers them water and something to eat. "So, about... this."

"Which this? The four of us or her specifically?" Logan raises an eyebrow.

"Both."

The girl returns and climbs into Liam's lap clutching a notebook. She flips open to a page and excitedly hands it to Liam to hand to the two across the table.

Oscar isn't sure whether to laugh or melt, so he mixes the two together. The pages are lined with drawings of the four of them. "She's quite the artist."

"You've no idea. Our fridge is covered in artwork." Liam chuckles a bit and wraps his arms around her.

"Told you! More than friends!"

"Do you know what that means, love bug?"

"Three people to cuddle!"

Oscar really does laugh this time. "Well, you're not wrong!" He shoot a look to Logan.

"Count us in." The American smile.

Liam sighs heavily in disappointment. It's a confusing reaction that Oscar wasn't expecting. "She's going to murder me later for not having this talk when she's big."

"Can't be mad if you make me dessert!" A devilish grin spreads across her cheeks.

"Only this once."

"You said that last time."

[igotanidea]

Icarus: Jason Todd x reader

A/N: been a while since the last angst,right? ;)

***

When he came back to the apartment, seeing her fully awake, eyes puffy, red and almost closing sitting in front of the computer and cursing her coworker, he didn't think the night would end up like this.

This, being her patching him up.

And ending up in bed together.

Not to sleep of course.

But the way her fingers danced on his bare, freshly patched and sensitive skin, the way her body got so responsive to all his kisses and licks, the way his name rolled of her tongue in that breathy moan.

"Do you want me...? Tell me..." she begged in a pathetic need to confirm he felt the same for her. That she wasn't just his roomate/ friend-ish, who happened to be around in his moment of vulnerability turning into horniness. That she wasn't just being used as a fleshlight.

"I want you. Fuck, I want you." Jason groaned, intensifing his movements wanting to make her scream, to fullfll that desire and lust flooding his brain. To have her nails rake down his back in some sort of masochistic tendency. He was used to pain. It was familiar.

And he got what he wanted, breaking her for good, her moans and cries of pleasure filling his ears and making him twitch inside her, his eyes falling closed from the intensity of the release.

"I love you...." he whispered.

For a moment he was a king of the world. Flying close to the sun and basking in its warmth.

And then fell back to Earth like a mythological Icarus, realising that he lost control.

Took her to bed.

Said some words he didn't mean.

Lied to her.

The only person who stood by him despite all the bullshit, violence, emotional break-downs.

The only person who actually cared.

And it made him freeze. Then roll off her. And lay on the side, his back to her.

Neglecting all the cuddles and kisses and aftercare she deserved and needed after the rough session he just put her through.

"Jason? " her confused voice echoed in his head. This was too much. He didn't want this. Didn't mean it. Didn't need it. "Baby?" Y/N put a hand on his shoulder in what seemed a comforting gesture. And it made him furious.

"Don't call me that!" he hissed rolling to face her with daggers in his eyes, grabbing her wrist in a iron grip "I'm not your baby!"

"I'm sorry!" she squealed in fear "I'm sorry, but you said-- I thought--"

"Then you though wrong! You get some stupid idea in your head?! A little scenario of me and you being happy toghether!?"

"I didn't --"

"Well you'd better get it out now! Cause this? us?" he almost spit that word "is not happening."

"But you said--" she was now sobbing, unsure of how they got into this screaming and crying.

"Just shut up! Shut up, don't say another word!" he yelled

Poor Jason.

He didn't mean to be violent. Never to her. Never.

But the anger issues mixed with guilt got the best of him. And once he started it was impossible to stop. Even though he hated himself for every word. For every action. For every flash of pain, sadness, confusion and rejection reflected in her vulnerable eyes.

And then it was gone. He got it all out.

And instead of screams the room was filled with silence.

"I should go." she said with shaking voice, wiping her tears away

"No, wait, Y/N, I--"

"No, you were right." her shirt and jeans were finding way back to her body as she hid herself from him and the embarassment that started to creep in. "I got too carried away in my fantasy--"

"you know I'm not the relationship kind of man. Never was."

"You said you wanted me... Why? Was it just the heat of the moment? Cause it's not a game to me. "

"I didn't want to be alone..." he whispered,

"Right." she scoffed "Meanwhile, I was the stupid girl who fell for you. Getting used like a sillly teenager. One and done."

"Y/N...."

He refused to admit and show that her unexpected confession got him spinning and his heart beating faster. She fell for him. She loved him. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. He lo--

NO! FUCK! HELL NO!

He just destroyed both their friendship and any potential chance of being toghther.

Which he obviously didn't care about.

And was just about to loose her for good, cause she wasn;t going to take any more of his shit. Not after being treated like a one night stand. It was impossible for her to go back to what was before and act casual.

Which he obviously didn't care about either.

"Don;t go..." Jason hated how that sound like a desperate begging. He was never pleading. NEVER.

And that tightening grip on her meant absolutely nothing. Not like he refused to let go or something.

She could go if that was what she wanted.

Clear way.

That grip was not, in any way, a method to prevent the inevitable repercussions of what was coming for them him.

Almost as if he believed that the scraps of affection and attention could make up for both his selfishness and the fuck up that was his fault.

No one else's.

His.

"We can't be friends anymore, can we?" he whispered into space.

"No. No we can't." But you also don't want to be with me..." she sobbed and he couldn't fake it, as much as he wanted to. She didn't deserve to be treated likem this, deceived and lied to.

And he shook his head, raising to the top of his honesty with her.

"We know what we have to do, Jason..."

Yes. They both knew.

Before she could get up and get out of his life, he leaned forward captuing her lips in his. For the last time.

So good. Having those sweet, warm lips that he felt so many times before move against his. So good remembering feeling them on his neck, chest, abs and lower....

One last memory....

Don't go.

"Goodbye Jason..."

It was over.

[moonrisecoeur]

compliance (how to brainwash your boyfriend) — leon kennedy

author’s note: this was written with re4r!leon in mind bc that’s my boyfriend! angel said so!! i have… so many hypno ideas, some considerably more palatable and some that are Much Worse, so pls let me know if you want more! also this is based off of an audio i listened to once by everdistant-utopia on reddit! the headset concept is kind of (extremely) goofy but i was into it idk. again, i'm aware that mind control isn't real and this is a silly ass concept. i had fun doing it anyway. no leons were hurt in the making of this fic. sorry for not posting it sooner even tho it was done i was extremely embarrassed lol. pls ignore any typos. love you!! thank u!!

wc: 5k

content: sub!leon x fem!reader, afab reader, oral reader receiving, orgasm control, mention of feet for like two seconds

warning: this is dark content. please do not read if the following topics are sensitive to you: noncon, hypnosis, mind control. i dont endorse or encourage this type of behavior irl, its just a fantasy!

—

as you walk down the street, you walk by a flier that’s sitting on the sidewalk. you don’t stop to read it, but one word caught your eye. mind control. it was probably something stupid, something completely made up by some lunatic who thinks mind control is real. mind control is maybe, technically real, in the ‘just relax and close your eyes, breathe deeply and let yourself be at peace’ kind of way. definitely not the ‘put on this headset and let me rewire your brain to make you my pet’ kind of way.

but… would it really hurt to look at the flier? you turn around to see it’s still there, and, against all your better judgment, you decide to walk up to it and pick it up.

it’s dirty, wet because of the rain from last night. even still, you can read the description of the advertised product clearly, along with some more info like a website and contact info for the designers. you take a brief moment to wonder who in the hell comes up with that stuff.

introducing you to the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! perfect for all of your mind control needs! simply place the device over the subjected head and choose what you’d like to do with them. need an obedient housewife? in search of a new pet? want them to be madly in love and obsessed with you? all of that and more is possible with the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! visit our website and order the headset today!

you blink. this is insane. who would do this? who would make this? why would anyone want to make someone do any of this against their will? you feel sick to your stomach as you crumple up the flier and toss it in the nearest trash can.

because that’s… that’s not consensual. that’s wrong in every possible way. unless they gave consent to be, what, turned into an ‘obedient housewife’? that’s really what it said? there’s just no way that’s right. how is that legal to sell? what even was that flier doing?

this feels like the kind of thing that would be sold on the black market, not openly advertised to people on the street. what if some lunatic saw it and just started brainwashing people? no one could stop them, it’s not exactly a crime in and of itself, and any crimes committed would be a little difficult to report if the ‘subject’ was too mindless to notice or to say anything.

whatever. you threw the flier away, you did your job as a good samaritan by tossing it so someone much much worse than you wouldn’t get a chance to look at it, and thus, you can forget all about the headset. pretend you never saw the flier or knew it existed and carry on with your life.

except, you can’t really. it permeates your thoughts, seeps inside of your subconscious until you begin to hypothesize that the headset wasn’t the real hypnosis, it was seeing that flier. you know you must be delusional. it’s not real, you’re not really mind controlled from just reading the flier, but… would it really hurt it buy it? you had the money for it and it’s not too expensive at all.

you hate yourself for it but you look on the website, just as hypnotic as the flier was, and you see multiple variations of the headset. some more suited towards different outcomes for ‘subjects’ and some just different stylistically.

you find the one you were looking at earlier. the ultra brainwasher 3000. it’s a stupid name, you’re aware. it just doesn’t really matter because who’s gonna know that you own this? you’ll keep it, maybe try it out on yourself to see what it’s like. you won’t do anything crazy, maybe like, hypnotize yourself to not be able to sit down until all your household chores are done, just for the day. the ultra brainwasher 3000 claims to have this functionality, and you’re… more or less, curious.

you order it and spend two weeks in absolute hell, making sure your boyfriend is never home alone when the package could arrive. you’re not worried he’d open it and see the device. he doesn’t look through your stuff, but the packing sticker ‘brainmelting industrial company’ would…. catch his eye for sure. try explaining that to your boyfriend, especially because even if you’re a good liar, you’re not to leon.

but, you get it, and it’s perfect because leon isn’t home right now, and you get to play with your new toy for a little bit. the box is smaller than you expected, only including the headset, a charging cord, and a set of instructions.

as you’re reading, the thought only just now hits you. it’s surprising that it’s taken you this long to have this idea, given how it would be someone else’s first instinct.

“should i…” you murmur to yourself, looking around nervously to see if anyone is in earshot, “… should i use this on leon..?”

i don’t know, should you use a mind control headset on your poor boyfriend that was just sent on a mission to save the fucking president’s daughter? maybe not.

you don’t know how it took you this long to come up with the concept. i mean, the flier did mention making someone your obedient housewife, but… they never said that someone had to be a girl…

it’s gross or actually more disgusting, honestly, how excited you get at the prospect of doing this to leon, but you decide that yeah, fuck it, you might as well brainwash your boyfriend. truthfully, what are the consequences? besides… ruining your relationship, betraying his trust, destroying him as a person… eh, it’s only temporary, right? there’s ways to make it only temporary.. and there’s no way he’d remember..

you fiddle with it, curious of all the different things you could do to him. the headset didn’t have presets, you could make up literally anything you wanted him to believe. you could make him the obedient housewife, but you could also make him a servant, maybe even dress him up all pretty as a maid. you could make sure of his loyalty and commitment, make him be so in love with you that even the thought of being with another woman makes him physically ill.

he gets home later that night, worn down and tired and exhausted in every possible way. and you know you’re going to have to put on your best acting skills. you’re not sure if you’re ready to do this, but you’re gonna have to be, so you press a sweet kiss to his lips, one he lingers on for just a moment too long. his lips chase after yours as his eyes open back up slowly, looking at you through his pretty lashes, an eyebrow raised, “what?”

you can’t help but adore him, his bluntness and gruff attitude, yet how soft he touches your waist as he pulls you closer. leon is nothing if not gentle and sweet, and you love that about him, “nothing, i just… i just wanted to look at you,” you say, and it reminds you just how easy leon is. just a couple of words and his eyes get a little glassy, his heart leaping out of his chest just a bit.

it sometimes helps that your boyfriend has been through every form of hell since that day in raccoon city, so sometimes just sweet words and little gestures get a bigger reaction than you’d expect. he’s traumatized and broken down, so the love you give him matters so much more.

in short, he’s easy. he gives in quickly and doesn’t like to fight, not with you. gives you everything you want, doesn’t protest, doesn’t ask for much besides your attention and love.

“you always stare at me,” he says awkwardly. god he’s so not charming that it makes him effortlessly likable.

that’s what’s so sucky about the idea of hypnosis. do you lose the person he used to be? sure, a mindless househusband would be great, helplessly obedient and passive and hardworking, but does this override his actual personality? that’s a bit too scary.

you make an effort to soak in these parts of his personality, enjoying every inch of his pretty little mind. you decide that no matter what you do to him, you can’t ruin him completely. you’d miss his heart, rough and guarded but nonetheless yours.

“i wanna try something,” you murmur to him, your heart pounding a little more than it should, “do you trust me?”

“of course i do,” he says. your heart almost aches, he trusts you so implicitly.

“close your eyes,” you say, and he complies easily.

you step away to grab the headset, and he’s so sweet and good that he doesn’t even peek. you take a deep breath, and commit to it.

you place it on his head, and he grumbles, but doesn’t object. poor thing. doesn’t even realize what’s happening to him.

—

the setting on the headset that you chose wasn’t anything flashy but it was labeled ‘semi-permanent’ and it stated that the subject would not remember anything from the moment of hypnosis to the moment they wake up next. so, all and all, even if you felt horrible, the damage wouldn’t be permanent, and leon wouldn’t even remember what happened.

truthfully, it felt like nothing could go wrong. it wouldn’t alter him too much, just… make him helplessly obedient for a couple hours. you could turn up the intensity if you wanted to, if it wasn’t quite enough to satisfy your curiosity.

you decide that it’s now or never, especially since being lost in your head while your boyfriend is cluelessly wearing what looks like a vr headset is kind of… odd.

you start the application, waiting for it to begin on his end.

“what are you up to?” he asks innocently, probably still not seeing anything while it loads. the question sounds like an accusation, but it’s really not. leon genuinely just wants to know what’s going on. it’s hard not to, but you don’t answer.

you notice the exact moment that it starts because grunts out of nowhere and his whole body tenses, and he clutches onto the fabric of the couch cushions, using that sense as a way to ground himself during an overload of audio and visual stimulation.

you reach to grab his hand, and his grasps yours tightly, desperately, as if physically pleading with you to make it stop.

you whisper to him, “shhh, nice and easy,” you’re not even sure if he can hear you, but you still feel the need to speak. you’re not sure if it’s your voice or your touch but he relaxes just slightly, his breath raggedy and tense. he’s trying like hell to keep himself together, but it’s so overwhelming that it’s hard for him to think, “hey… it’s okay. you’re okay, just… let it happen.”

a pathetic little whimper escapes his throat as his body goes slack, jaw hanging open and arms hanging limply by his sides, “wha… why?” his voice sounds small, weak, and if you weren’t so cruel, you’d immediately take it all back and apologize and just face the consequences.

but you’re too far deep to back out now, even if leon’s pitiful demeanor is almost swaying you to stop, you know you can’t. not now.

“i… i thought you…” he whines, body tensing and spasming as he tries to put some form of coherent thought together, “wha… why..?” he whimpers again, pathetically broken down in just a matter of minutes.

you sit there with him, holding his hand, waiting for the process to be done, and once it is, you take the headset off.

he seems agitated, but doesn’t seem to know what at. his muscles are tense, but he doesn’t make any sudden movements.

“hey,” you mutter gently, and he almost flinches at the sound, looking at you with those wide deer eyes again, scared. you reach out to touch his face, fingers caressing his cheek.

the cogs in his brain turn as he processes what’s happening, and the agitation seems to evaporate and become replaced by a sense of calm and relaxation. he looks into your eyes, and it seems like he’s deciding something.

“leon?”

“yes? how… can i serve you?” he asks, jaw dropping at his own words. he’s so stunned at what he’s saying and how he’s acting yet he can’t help it.

“…address me as… ma’am,” you say, and he shivers, eyes closing tensely as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on, “and go get me something. how about… a cup of coffee? yeah, let’s start there.”

it makes sense that he’s fading in and out, the programming would probably need more time to settle in before it was done and his personality obviously wouldn’t just disappear, but it was still a little bit heartbreaking to watch him fight the voice in his head that is desperate to obey you.

as he disappears into the kitchen, you sit where he was sitting on the couch to take a moment to think it all over.

leon has never been the most… dominant man. he has his moments of aggression and tension that turn into a roughness that his soul seems to often carry, but it’s never controlling. he’s not demanding, he asks nothing of you besides gracing him with your presence.

but due to his past, submission also doesn’t come easy to him. he likes to think he would lean more sub, just because he’s so malleable to your will, so easy to convince. anything you want is yours, and if you want his dignity laid out in the palm of your hand, then it’s yours to keep for eternity. he just struggles to fully give up control, especially since you know he’s not really had much of that in his life.

you kept his personality intact for the most part, but… he just seems so different. he responds pretty much the same, talks the same, acts the same. something just doesn’t seem right.

“here’s the coffee you asked for,” he mutters when he returns, his voice gruff but soft at the same time. he’s… definitely conflicted. the implanted urge to obey you mindlessly and the natural urge to protect his self-respect are fighting in his head. you watch curiously to see which will win.

leon has been through hell, and you can always see it when you look into his eyes. he’s been controlled by the government, a puppet on their strings, since he survived that night in raccoon city. he must be used to a lack of control in his life. but now he’s your puppet, and you have no interest in using him as a killing machine. you have… different plans for him.

“thanks,” you whisper, and he nods, quiet but obedient. just how you wanted him. he stands there beside you, not really knowing what to do with himself as you take a sip, “rub my feet now.”

“..what?”

“you heard me,” you say. and he did.

something in his stomach sinks at the command, a feeling of urgency to do as you say fills his entire being, but it just feels so wrong to him. you’re never this brazen, this demanding.

“come on, leon,” you say, almost condescendingly, pointing to the floor right in front of the couch, “on… your… knees.”

he breathes shakily, but kneels down in front of you, avoiding eye contact as he gives you your damn foot massage. there’s turmoil in his head, easily seen by that deer-like look in his eyes as he stares wide-eyed at the ground. despite his roughness, he’s always had these soft, fragile eyes, reminding you of who he really is. it would be truly heartbreaking to watch him go through this if it also wasn’t incredibly attractive to put him on his knees and order him around.

leon has always been relatively compliant, but now it’s on a whole other level. anything you ask for, despite some inner conflict, he’ll do. you wonder just how far you could push him, but… you don’t decide to test that just yet.

for a few minutes, or however long it takes for you to finish your coffee, you sit there with him. his touch is good but not very skilled. he gets the tension and soreness out though, and you’re sure you could train that into him over time.

“take off your shirt,” you say, and his throws off his t-shirt easily. it lands in the corner unimportantly, and your smirk radiates confidence and something else much more sinister, “stand up, bend over in front of me.”

he closes his eyes tightly, clearly fighting that inner battle but the part of him desperate to get away and to not obey you is losing. he slowly rises to his feet and does as you ask. he places his hands on the coffee table, legs spread slightly like he already knows what’s about to happen. funny, because he doesn’t seem to know much of anything right now.

you stand up, hands touching all over him but particularly grasping at his ass, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers and enjoying the way his muscles flex, tightening and hardening when you grab him, “you never let me spank you,” you muse, almost annoyed, “i get it. you get nervous with power play and letting me dom you or whatever, but i always wanted to hit it just once. just to satisfy the curiosity of what it would be like.”

your hand pulls back and slams against his butt with a loud smacking noise. he gasps, breathing out shakily after the hit, “i… i’m sorry, ma’am.”

“but now that we’re here… and i’ve already got a taste, i don’t think i ever want to stop. so, from now on, no more of that. if i want to slap your ass, i’m going to,” you murmur, “and you will not try to stop me or convince me not to.”

“i.. i…” he whimpers, and for a second you pause, nervously that the real leon, somehow deep down, heard that, “… yes, ma’am.”

“good,” you mutter, slapping it again, feeling the hit in your hand as you pull away, and if you can feel it so clearly then you’re sure he can, “now, be polite and say ‘thank you’. thank me for teaching you how to correctly behave.”

“tha… thank you, ma’am,” he whispers, eyes shutting slowly as his deep inner need to resist is weakening.

“i own you now,” you groan, grasping at his hips posessively, mouth pressing open kisses to his bare shoulder, “no, i… have always owned you. owned your body, you just didn’t realize it.”

he nods, incredibly turned on. his body aches to be claimed, to be made yours.

sure, leon has always been yours, but his body has been purely his. he’s… cautious with it. he’s been more or less just too busy for romantic partners, but somehow you snuck your way into his life and he happily lets you stay. he just… is slowly learning to trust you with himself.

he can do easy, comfortable, casual sex. what he can’t do is hand himself over to you like this, helplessly obedient, submissive in every possible way. as much as leon doesn’t have the energy to fight, tired and worn down, fighting is all he know.

your nails drag against the skin of his torso and back, leaving pretty red lines wherever they go, “no more fighting. no more stressing about it. all you have to do is be mine, unequivocally.”

“i… i am..” he mumbles, and you tilt your head, eyeing him curiously. he notices, shying away, “i… i am yours. unequivocally. you can… you can have me.”

manhandling has always been a little difficult, considering leon is all muscle and he’s a sturdy guy, but you spin him at the hips to face you, and he’s effortlessly moved, “can i… have your body just as much as i have your heart?”

“yes, i… yes, ma’am, it’s yours. do whatever you want with it, ma’am,” he says, a slight daze in his eyes, clearly he’s not all the way there. he's trying. he’s still so soft, so tender and malleable, so leon.

you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, and he melts into your touch, hands grasping him roughly, in a way that might hurt anyone else, but leon is strong. sure, your touch is bruising him, but… he doesn’t have enough

of his mind left to be bothered.

lips trail down his neck and shoulder, but move back up to his ear, sucking on his skin in a vampiric manner. you whisper to him, “you’re gonna only focus on my pleasure.”

“i… i am? i… i am…” he stutters, god it’s so damn cute.

“of course you are. you’d rather eat me out than have an orgasm yourself, wouldn’t you? if i was a crueler person, i would find a way to mind control your orgasms away completely. that way you could… focus on my pleasure, but i’m not that mean.”

he shudders, your lips pressing to the sensitive spot underneath his ear, teeth dragging down his skin, teasing him, taunting him.

“you wanna eat now?” you ask, lips pressed to his collarbone now, and he moans out an affirmative. you suck a hickey against the skin right atop of the bone, admiring the redness, the way you get to watch it turn a disgusting shade of purple. one that should make you nervous to have done to him, only turns you on.

instead of ordering him into his knees this time, you just push him, easily putting his head between your legs. his hands come up to hold your thighs, steadying himself as you half-stand half-sit on the counter. he pulls your pants down enough , but can’t even be bothered to take off your panties, just pushing them to the side.

“can.. i, ma’am?”

you chuckle, not really expecting him to be so polite, “go for it, sweet thing.”

he leans in, pressing a teasing kiss to your clit, just once, before his tongue meets your folds and he licks and sucks like tomorrow won’t come but he’ll make sure you will. he groans into your pussy like he’s the one being pleasured, and that honestly seems like a fair comparison. sure, he was physically pleasing you, but even just the act of giving oral is making his head spin with a satisfaction he has never felt before. he could get high off of this.

leon has always been good at giving head. much better than just good. he’s incredible. it’s the one thing where he can fully just zone out. if you’re too lost in your own pleasure, then you can’t focus on him and how he’s feeling, and there’s something oddly safe about the feeling of being, for all intents and purposes, alone with his thoughts. eating your pussy just comes so natural that it’s second nature.

but now? he can’t get lost in his thoughts if he doesn’t have any. doesn’t mean he’s enjoying it any less. he’s enjoying anything you ask him to do. you could tell him to go fold your laundry and then clean your bathroom and do your dishes and he’s do everything diligently and he’d be satisfied the whole time. god, maybe you do really want a househusband. besides, leon could use the emotional break from his job. he’s content enough serving you.

he makes you cum sooner than you expected, but it’s literally just because he’s that good with his tongue, and when he moved one his hands from your thigh to press two fingers into your cunt, fingering you in thick circular motions as he sucked on your clit, you were gone.

he continues, wet fingers gushing in a fast rhythm as you orgasm, grinding against his mouth, using him completely for your own pleasure. it was always a secret fantasy of his, and now it’s reality, even if his mind isn’t all the way there and the only thoughts running through his head are is she pleased with me? did i do a good job? do i deserve her praise? i should do better next time. i should serve her better. i only want to serve her.

and now that he’s completely helpless, servitude being the only concept he can comprehend, and you come down from a high so intense it took you a second to remember that leon was waiting patiently for your next command, next order.

“put… put me on the couch…” you gasp out in heavy breaths.

he’s strong, and he helps to guide you to the couch, body still part paralyzed from such an intense pleasure. you lay there, still breathing a little heavy.

“go get dressed and cleaned up…” you mutter to him, “and then come back out here and cuddle up next to me.”

he does as you ask, finding his clothes and getting dressed again, and then when he approaches the couch again, you reach out your arms for him. the smile he gives you is almost too real. too… really leon. you still feel that twinge of nervousness in your gut, but then he lays against you, head tucked into the crook of your neck, and you know he doesn’t know. for all that he’s good at, leon’s not a great actor.

you reach your hand up to run your fingers through his hair repeatedly, soft and soothing motions to lull him into a state of compliance.

“you’re mine,” you whisper, hoping he’ll confirm it back.

of course he does, softly, no longer feeling conflicted, “yours, ma’am.”

“you’ll be obedient and submissive from now on,” your voice is soft but carries a dominance he doesn’t quite think he could ever escape nor would he ever want to.

“i’ll be.. obedient and submissive.”

“you’ll only focus on my pleasure,” you say, knowing he’ll repeat it back obediently just like the ones previous, but you feel his rock hard cock against your leg and as much as you want to shove his cock inside of you in an instant, you can’t help but want to control him like that. keep his orgasms just out of reach until he goes mad from the teasing and edging you plan to do to him. keep him nice and horny and desperate, just how you like him. if he wasn’t submissive enough for you before, he is now.

“only yours, only ever yours, please…” his voice is soft and meek and god if you wanted to you could find a mind control that was permanent and just… leave him like this forever. let him take care of your home and future kids and do your household chores and tasks. keep him completely obedient, god it would be…

“you can’t resist,” you whisper, leaning into his hair,

resting your head against his in a soft intimate moment, “i can’t resist, ma’am.”

you nod gently, and after a moment, you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “i’m.. i love you, leon. sorry about all of this..”

“… why are you apologizing, ma’am?” he asks, tilting his head slightly even in your grasp to show confusion. he really is just like a little puppy sometimes.

“you know.. about the mind control.”

he shrugs, the most unbothered happy smile on his face, “oh, that’s.. that’s okay, i’m fine with it. i.. already belonged to you.”

“but that was in a more… romantic way. an ‘i belong with you’ kind of way. not the kind i did to you,” you say, just a tinge of guilt holding you back, but you push it aside, “it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. i just.. just know i love you. even when i’m ordering you around.”

“i’ll remember that, ma’am,” he smiles up at you just a little softer, just a little more like his true self, just a little more leon. that heavy feeling of guilt in your gut will never quite go away, will it?

you fall asleep on the couch together, knowing or maybe just hoping you’ll wake up to leon not remembering anything. hopefully he doesn’t piece together that he has no memory of you giving him that hickey and those bruises on his hips were definitely not his job's doing.

—

you wake up to a fond smell of breakfast and a bright morning, sitting up off the couch as you look at your phone. leon’s not laying there next to you, which is odd but not completely uncommon. sometimes he goes out in the morning to work out or disappears in the middle of the night when he’s needed somewhere, but most of the time, and today included, he’s just in the kitchen.

you find him there, standing in front of the coffee pot, and you walk up to him to wrap your arms around his midsection, softly burying your face into his back to shyly hide from his gaze.

“awh, morning lovebug,” his sweet raspy morning voice says to you, a hand on your arms, holding you tight so there’s not even a chance you could let go, “missed ya yesterday. did you sleep alright?”

“...mhm,” you hum, pressing a sweet kiss to his shoulder blade.

it’s a sweet moment, full of love and warmth and tenderness and you could have almost forgotten what you did to leon last night had the smell of coffee not been hanging in the air. but hey, at least he doesn’t remember what really happened, though he’s kind of confused just how he forgot how he got all of these bruises and scratches.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-week Day 2 - Hands

i'm challenging myself to keep each of these at 660 words; see day one for more of an explanation!

Steve is going insane.

Has been for a while now, actually, about the same fuckin’ thing.

Things. There are two of them.

And the fact that these specific ones are what done him in. 

Of all the hands he’s held, had pressed to him both in loving embrace and in the sharp stings of a punch, of a slap… these ones are driving him crazy.

They’re seemingly everywhere. They take up the precious little room in his head for conscious thought (head injuries will do that) whether or not they’re even in the room with him.

It's not even that he's starved for touch either, as Robin first assumed, he's normally a very tactile guy to start with! Touch is a regular occurrence for him.

But those hands. With their ringed fingers and warm, dry palms that are somehow the perfect shape for the sharp curve of his jaw.

The hands that first held him firm with anger, with fear, that now have 1) rubbed his back on multiple occasions, 2) carded through his hair exactly once, 3) have found themselves resting over his shoulder, on his thigh (brief as it was), and along the side of his face.

That last one was the one that really did it.

It was teasingly, too. Robin said he was thinking too much about it at first, but Steve didn’t think he was thinking about it enough. 

For hours upon hours Steve thought about the feeling of Eddie Munson’s hands cradling his face while their owner cooed a soft “Awe, you okay, sweetheart? You feelin’ alright?” to him.

He laughed it off at the time, pushing Eddie and his damn hands off him and back to his side of the counter at Family Video with a “Get off me, dude.” like an idiot.

Eddie’s added teasing to Robin’s good-natured ribbing about his most recent addition to her now-hypothetical ‘YOU SUCK’ column is all it was. Teasing. No matter how often he thought about that moment in the weeks after.

“Steve!”

He startles at the noise, turning to Robin wide-eyed “What?! I’m standing Right Here y’know.”

“But your brain wasn't Right Here now was it?”

“I heard you.”

“I called your name three times.”

“...Nuh uh.”

Robin rolls her eyes at him, “Whatever, can you put your Eddie fantasies away for like an hour so we can go through the inventory?”

He can, though after an hour passes and they’re not even close to a third of the way done sorting through new tapes, Steve finds himself nearly bursting with the need to talk about his crush.

“I bet he’s good with his fingers.”

“Gross!”

“I mean because he plays guitar!”

Robin drops the tape in her hand to cover both her ears, “Lalalalalalalaaa!”

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Yes you do,” she says, picking the tape back up and placing it on an already too-tall stack. “You’re super horny for him but don’t want to make a move.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” Robin snorts at him, like she does every time he says that. “He’s just so– and I’m so– and we— Y’know?”

“Nope.”

He drops his head into his hands, sighing. It sounds sickeningly longing even to him “I just want to hold his hand.. Why?? That’s so dumb my heart hurts.”

Steve picks his head up when Robin doesn’t say anything. She’s looking at him with… some sort of expression on her face. “What?”

She regards him for a second longer. “I don’t think you’re horny for him.”

“Oh no, believe me, I very much want him to f—”

“I don’t think you’re just horny for him.”

It takes half a breath for him to get it. Surprising, given the previously mentioned lack of extra room in his brain. 

“Oh my god.”

“Yup.”

“Oh my god. I’m in love with Eddie Munson.”

Another voice pipes up from behind them. “You’re what?!”

“Eddie?!”

on AO3 here!

[vegaseatsass]

The Sol-tuation is a lot more nuanced than that!!

Who knew I, an absolutely feral Mingjoe shipper, would end up making so many posts about the secondary love interest who never stood a chance with our protagonist, but I truly think they're doing some fascinating things with this character and it hurts a little to see so so so many fandom reactions that take what's happening on the surface as the full story with no interest in peeling back those appearances.

I will say before I start: huge credit to @zhouxiangs for so many of these opinions, she shared a few insights about Sol with me today that completely reshaped my interpretation of the character, so thank you x 2389234, this post is not exclusively My thoughts. (Also SolYim as a ship is galaxy brain and the only thing I now want for Sol's future. Thank you for that TOO)

So I very much understand why what it appears Sol is doing - ignoring Joe's clear lack of interest in him to pursue him, taking every opportunity to touch him, and working overtime to prevent Joe from seeing the truth about Ming and his obvious devotion, so he can still "win" Joe instead - is rubbing a lot of people the wrong way. Straight up, situations where people I'm not romantically interested in have pursued me despite my clear and direct (and often hard-fought because I used to be a huge people pleaser) "no" are something I hope to avoid for the rest of my natural life. Relentless pursuit can be a sexy fantasy if you want someone back, as Joe does Ming, but for most of us, it's emotionally pressuring nightmare fuel if you don't.

But I would argue that's really not what's happening. An extremely essential missing piece of context to Sol's behavior is that Joe died because of his relationship with Ming, and Sol spent years grieving him. In episode 9 in particular, they're all face-to-face with the cold hard truth of that grief, and I don't think Sol is any exception, even if he knows Joe is back now. In episode 8, Sol confirmed Joe was back, and he was so euphorically happy, but he was not pushing and shoving Joe to hop into a relationship with him, was he? He was just delighted Joe was alive. But this episode, he's suddenly faced with the very real prospect that Ming and Joe still have feelings for each other. That Joe may return to the man who got him killed. Who Sol, in his own eyes, failed to protect Joe from in his first life, even though Sol so badly wanted to pay back Joe's sincerity to him. And I think the threat of losing Joe again is making Sol (who ran back to Korea instead of processing his grief and guilt over his death) a little insane.

I mean, let's talk about Sol in Joe's first life. After Joe told him he couldn't return his feelings, did we see any inkling of this frantic episode 9 pushiness? Sure, there was the moment where he tried to convince Joe that he and Ming were incompatible, after watching Ming need to hide Joe from his family in what I'm sure read as shame to Sol. I can give Sol some grace for this knowing he struggled with coming to terms with his own sexuality (see: the first time he ran away to Korea), and is now trying to overcompensate for who he was in the past, but you don't have to give him this grace if you don't want to. I can admit his desire to support Joe as a friend is compromised by the tumultuousness of his longing for Joe. Like there's also the fight with Ming on the staircase where Joe gets knocked down and Sol and Ming just keep fighting. Sol is not a saintly unselfish being who keeps his feelings and his desire to protect and support Joe perfectly separate, by any means. (To me this is part of why he's interesting and human, but I get that we all have different character preferences.)

But dinner with Ming's family aside, when first life Joe tells Sol he doesn't want to be with him, Sol lets it go and is happy living in the friend zone. When Joe tells him not to come over and intervene when he's trying to break up with Ming, Sol listens. Sol believes that Joe can handle himself and he respects the boundaries that Joe sets, regardless of what he wants or hopes in the privacy of his own heart.

And what happens without Sol's intervention? Without anyone's intervention? Joe dies. Joe is chained up in a basement - Joe was not safe with Ming, Joe was not able to clear the situation up using just his words - and blacklisted from the industry, driven to desperate financial straits and killed.

So my read of Sol is that he's scrambling to make himself a shield. He thought he was already in a role where he could support Joe, this time around, but this episode raised the threat of Joe going back to Ming and dying again, and now he's frantically trying to change himself into something that can actually keep Joe from doing that. If Joe suddenly decided he wanted to be with Sol and not Ming, would Sol be happy on his own behalf? Of course, I'm not denying that. But I really think so much of the desperation to offer himself as a romantic choice is to try to show Joe he has options that aren't Ming, to try to intervene in ways he didn't in Joe's first life, at any cost.

You can't force someone not to return to an abusive partner, the same way you can't force someone not to commit suicide, or make any other choice where they could get hurt or disappear from your life forever. It's a necessary journey for everyone, to realize you have to respect your loved ones' agency even when they're making choices that terrify you to your core. Sol has not learned that yet, and I'm not defending how pushy and out of pocket he was being this episode. But I'm really, really sympathetic to the absolutely frantic terror that I think was underlying it. If you've never had a suicidal loved one or a loved one trapped in a destructive cycle, it's easy enough to expect Sol to do the right things (the actually HELPFUL and supportive things), instead of the toxic, selfish things. For me he's a far richer and more human character for making the wrong choices, though. For being selfish, but not about wanting to possess Joe and force his feelings Sol's way. About wanting to keep Joe alive and unharmed by force, instead of trusting Joe to make his own choices. Again: you have to let people decide these things for themselves. You have to! If you don't support your loved ones' agency, any other support you think you're offering them is useless and suffocating and will genuinely compound whatever they're dealing with, make it much harder for them to heal, leave, etc - whatever the "healthy" choice is, they can't make it with you forcing them into it. They can't make it without you surrendering to the possibility of them making the "unhealthy" choice; without you accepting that it is their choice. But for a fictional character to go from "genuinely supportive friend" to "publicly announcing you're in a branded relationship a day after your own funeral" because he sees you slipping from his grasp - not emotionally, but potentially literally, metaphysically, permanently, AGAIN - well, to me, that's juicy and compelling.

I'm also more sympathetic to Sol than to Wut when it comes to telling Joe that Ming loves him, frankly. I think Joe needs an impartial friend (Yim!!!) that he can process all his Ming issues with openly, because it is never helpful to feel like because your friends know that your abuser/ex/etc harmed you, you can never go to them to process the moments of kindness and love. Joe needs to be able to look at the full picture of who Ming is and what Ming feels and decide for himself, he doesn't need Sol strongarming him out of accepting that Ming is capable of both great cruelty and great love. But Wut always takes the path of least resistance and it absolutely maddens me. To just say, with no qualification, "The man I and only I know knocked you out and kept you locked in a basement loves you, actually" is absolutely insane and irresponsible. I do not for a second believe Wut was ready to express nuance, to say, like, "I think Ming loves you in his own way, but that love is dangerous and possessive and I hope you stay away." If we see anything in the text that demonstrates otherwise I'm happy to be wrong about this, and then I would be in the "Let Wut speak!" camp. But for now, I do think he was going to play the role of an enabler, just because he finds it easier to let Ming handle Joe's estate and be in Joe's life than to fight it. Lol it still doesn't make Sol right to try to keep Joe from seeing the full picture, but I'm sympathetic to him going wtf, Wut? Do you really think Ming loves him? knowing what Wut knows.

Anyway this is sooooo long so I will try to wrap it up, but I wanted to also talk about Sol and Joe and physical touch. Like I said at the beginning, I totally understand seeing how often Sol hugs Joe or grabs him and feeling uncomfortable imagining yourself in Joe's shoes. But as uncomfortable as EYE would be with Sol's affections, I want to try to analyze how Joe the character feels about all this. Now one of the things I most love about this series is the opaqueness of all the characters' choices, how there is always ambiguity and room for more than one interpretation. So if you watch the scenes where Sol puts his hands on Joe and think Joe looks trapped or unhappy, that is your prerogative! I noticed that the two times he shook Sol's touch off in the episode were when he thought Sol was going to stop him from breaking into his loft, and when he thought Sol was going to cause a scandal with Ming at the press party. Otherwise, from where I sit (my interpretation only!), Joe does not appear to experience Sol's touch as something unwanted or unsafe. I would actually make the argument that having someone he's known for years sharing a bed with him, hugging him, holding his hand, etc, could be offering Joe essential tactile comfort he's not getting from anyone else while he's in the midst of grieving his past life. For all we know, the level of physical intimacy between them is something that completely predates Sol acknowledging his feelings. This could be a normal level of touchiness between them, and not an example of Sol "taking liberties" or trying to force his way into Joe's heart.

To me the upshot of everything is that Joe, to my eyes, seems to feel completely safe with Sol and his professed feelings. When Sol brings his feelings up again when they're getting their makeup done, Joe's response ("how did the conversation turn to this?") pinged me as playful, affectionate, not uncomfortable and pressured. Joe is absolutely terrified of Ming's feelings for him and, significantly, what they would do to Joe's feelings for Ming - he is keeping himself away from Ming by the power of "You don't love me and never did" and when that crumbles so will most of his ability to resist him, I think - but Sol's feelings can't do anything to Joe. They can't make him want things he doesn't want, and they can't make him want things he doesn't want to want. I would argue that Sol is a friend that Joe feels safe around, and his open crush on Joe causes a bit of awkwardness, to be sure, but it doesn't make Joe feel pressured to do anything but be himself. When he's with Sol, he's not afraid of Sol, Sol's feelings, or Joe's feelings. I think that's important to acknowledge! The same way that Sol needs to accept that Joe is allowed to make the choice to go back to Ming and it's never been in Sol's hands, imo fandom needs to accept that if Joe is comfortable with Sol and his affections, we can't argue that he is being pressured by them, or in danger, or anything else.

But that's just my interpretation! I am happy to be disagreed with, haha. I just think Sol is as rich and interesting a character as Ming, but many of us as viewers have more trouble with flawed and selfish kindness (Sol) than we do with complex cruelty (Ming). But I love flawed and selfish kindness. I love characters who are trying so hard to be good and to take care of people they love, and fucking it up and not seeing the ways their wants and fears are getting in the way. So I love Sol. And obviously have a lot to say about him lol.

[ughkat]

brother's best friend | a.f.i

au oneshot ❥

ashton x fem!reader

graphic smut, petnames

ashton is your brothers best friend, their band practice gets a little noisy and you decide to say something.

-

I sighed in frustration at the blaring clamor coming from the basement, where my brother and his garage band gathered every week. I focused my eyes heavier on the book in my lap, adjusting my seating in bed.

Another loud clash, followed by a wall-shaking bass riff.

"Ughh." I audibly groaned, tossing my book to the side. I got up from my bed and walked heavily out of my room, mentally cursing my brother. Opening the door to the basement, the series of loud crashing and laughs came to a halt, as I hastily made my way down the steps. My brother and his two band mates turned their heads to my direction, my brother rolling his head in annoyance. I crossed my arms as I reached the bottom step.

"Can you be quieter? Please?" I hissed. I quickly scanned the room, making eyes at the drummer, Ashton. He returned a smug look on his face as I spoke with anger.

"We'll keep it down." Ashton sneered, emitting obvious sarcasm. I rolled my eyes before storming my way back up to my room. Just as I was about to close the basement door, three clicks of Ashton's drumsticks, followed by sporadic banging on his drums, louder than before. I let out a scoff of disbelief, but continued to my room.

Ashton had been my brother's best friend since I could remember. Him, my brother and I being so close in age aided the three of us to spend a lot of time together. Even into our early adulthood, Ashton has seemed to bring out our most immature selves, acting as we did when we were younger. Calling each other names, playing tricks on each other, meaningless arguing. Ashton was always just "my brother's best friend". In usual little sister fashion, I found myself growing increasingly more attracted to Ashton as we got older, but never acted on it in fear of ruining his friendship with my brother. I couldn't help but turn my longing into childish anger.

Ashton's smug face burned in my head as I returned to my room, sinking onto the bed. "That stupid smile." I thought to myself. Yet I knew deep down I was more upset at the fact that I couldn't really get mad at that "stupid smile". I laid on my back, staring blankly into the ceiling. I wondered how long I would have to fake hate Ashton—And does he fake hate me too?

I listened hesitantly to the rhythms coming from below me, finding myself tapping my finger to a bass drum. I pridefully caught myself, crossing my arms across my chest. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing I enjoy his music.

Finding myself lost in thought, my wandering mind was interrupted by my brother's voice coming from downstairs. I sat up slowly to eavesdrop. Sounds of clanging and thumping of what I assumed to be instruments and equipment being put back into their place, followed by footsteps up the stairs.

As they made their way down the hallway to the front, I listened to my brother's words.

"Alright, see you guys. Ash is staying back for a bit." He chirped. The front door shut and I continued to listen.

"I'm gonna' go get a shower, help yourself to whatever." He continued to Ashton. I listened for the footsteps heading toward the bathroom, followed by the bathroom door latching shut. I watched the small opening at bottom of my door frame with anticipation of where Ashton would set himself. Sitting in my own silence for a few moments, I snapped out of my trance on the the door, realizing what I was doing and shook my head. "You're being a psycho." I thought to myself. I laid back lazily into my bed and grabbed the book from where I had tossed it, returning to my interrupted page.

My mind wandered into a world besides my own as the text on the pages before me flooded my brain. I was numb to everything around me, 100% encapsulated in my book. A jolting flinch shook my body and mind, tearing me from my fantasies when I heard three heavy knocks on my door. I threw my hands down to my lap abruptly with a frustrated sigh, tossing my head back.

"What?" I groaned, dragging out my words, I was awaiting the unwanted presence of my brother. My door began to open slowly, revealing the unexpected visitor.

"May I come in?" Ashton spoke with a cheeky smile, peaking only his head through. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, eyeing him up and down.

"Why?" I questioned with a petty tone.

"C'mon we haven't just talked and hung out in forever." He chuckled. I raised an eyebrow before letting out a sigh.

"I guess, come in." I shrugged, putting my book to the side with a sigh. Ashton carefully entered my room, closing the door behind him. I glanced quickly at the door as it latched shut, then to him. I scooted back into my headboard allowing room for Ashton to take his seat. He sat down with comfortability as if he'd been in my room a thousand times before.

"We were disrupting your reading...?" He started, reaching for my book.

"Yeah. On purpose." I muttered. He let out a scoff.

"On purpose?" He mocked with a smirk, now looking at me. I looked up at him, his gaze burning into mine. His face was only inches away.

"Yes, on purpose. You got louder after I left." I argued matter of factly. Ashton tilted his head, not breaking his gaze on me.

"You're cute." He chuckled. My heart began to pick up its pace, making my palms clammy. I rolled my eyes, looking away.

"Did you need something?" I huffed. I turned back to look at him, his face was suddenly noticeably closer. A small gasp escaped my lips as I almost connected faces with him. Ashton studied my features closely, meeting my eyes multiple times. My face slowly got hot as his face was merely inches from mine.

"I just wanted to come see you." He spoke softly, slowly moving his hand to my knee. A shiver was sent up my body at the touch of his rough hands against my skin. My breath hitched as he moved in closer, his hand carefully moved up my upper leg, drawing small circles on my inner thigh. I began to shift in my seat under his touch. Ashton looked back up to me, our eyes connected once more before he swiftly leaned into a kiss. I froze and gasped onto his lips, but swiftly, I melted into the kiss. He pulled back quickly, looking at me deeply.

"Is this okay?" He whispered. I nodded slowly, looking at him through my eyelashes. He swiftly pushed me onto my back, reconnecting our lips. The feeling of him on top of me sent a rush of euphoria throughout me, making the pit of my stomach flutter. He began to deeply kiss down my neck, then my chest.

"You're so beautiful." He muttered into my skin. He sat up on his knees and removed my tank top vigorously, following with my sweats. He sat himself beside me, bringing his fingers down to my slick slit. My back arched at the feeling of his cold, calloused touch.

"You're so wet for me, princess." He muttered into my ear. My chest rose and fell quickly as I watched him slowly pump two fingers in and out of my hole. I wrapped my arm around his, gripping into his toned bicep. My head lolled lazily into his shoulder, whimpers escaping my lips. He focused intently on his hand as he strategically worked his fingers on my sensitive bud and hole, making me slicker for him. He removed his two fingers, bringing them to my lips. I slowly opened my mouth, wrapping my lips around his slick fingers.

"That's a good girl." He smiled.

Ashton abruptly flipped us over, leaving me straddling him. I made my way down the bed, assisted him in removing his jeans and boxers. I returned to my position on top of Ashton, and reconnected our lips for another kiss. His calloused hands found my hips, guiding them slowly against his throbbing member. I whimpered at the feeling of him against my eager heat.

"You want my cock, princess?" He growled into my lips, digging his fingers into my skin. I nodded while biting my lip, suppressing a moan.

"I can't hear you. Tell me, baby. Tell me you want my cock." He breathed into my ear, grinding my hips harder into his member.

"P..please." I whimpered, "I want it." I squeaked out what I could. Ashton pulled my underwear to the side, now gliding his shaft against my wet folds. He chuckled with a smirk before speaking.

"Aww, you don't like being teased?" He mocked softly in my ear, budding his tip on my entrance. I let out a whine and rolled my head onto his shoulder, bucking my hips. He placed a hand on the back of my neck, and the other lining up his slick member to my entrance.

"You just wanna' get fucked, don't you?" He chuckled, sliding himself in swiftly mid sentence. I tossed my head back with a gasp at the sudden feeling of him filling me up. He placed a hand at my hip and began to bounce me up and down. I let out a squeal and placed my hands on Ashton's shoulders, digging my nails into his skin. He slapped a hand across my mouth with a chuckle. Abruptly, Ashton flipped us over, leaving me on my knees with my face against the mattress. He put a hand on the side of my face, the other on my hip.

"You're taking my cock like such a good girl." He groaned, leaning down to my ear. I whined and whimpered into the pillow, grabbing at any sheet in my vicinity.

"Fuck... Ash." I whined into the pillow. He gripped tightly onto my hip, keeping a steady hand on my face.

"You like being fucked like a slut, baby?" He growled. "You like being my slut?".

He fastened his rhythm, causing my legs to shake. I slowly began to feel my climax build, and so could he. He tossed his head back with a groan at the feeling of my tightening walls.

"You gonna' cum for me, princess?" He spoke. "You gonna' cum all over my cock for me?". My legs buckled as I released around Ashton's member, letting out a series of curses and cries. Ashton only quickened his pace to finish himself off, making me shake uncontrollably.

"Fuckk, Y/n." He whined, pounding vigorously into my sensitive hole. He gripped my hip tightly, pulling out and releasing his load onto my back with a groan. We sat in silence for a second to catch out breath before Ashton spoke.

"Are you okay?" He said gently, with genuine care in his eyes. I turned my head with a giggle and ran a hand through my now tangled hair.

"I'm okay." I sighed. "You need to get this off my back, though." I gestured to his mess on my back. He shook his head with a laugh, looking down. I gestured to a dirty towel I had already planned to wash later that day. I sat in my own thoughts as Ashton cleaned me up, before he took his seat next to me, handing me my clothes.

"So...What do we tell Y/b/n?" Ashton spoke with an awkward smirk. I sighed, also unsure. But I knew it'd be best that he didn't know.

"I can keep a secret if you can." I shrugged. Ashton let a smile take over his face as he pulled up his jeans.

The two of us were interrupted by the sound of my brother's bedroom door, Ashton looked at me with wide eyes.

"Go, go, get out." I mouthed, shooing him out of the room. He quickly gathered his shoes and made his way out of the door. Opening it once more and blowing a cheeky kiss. A giggle escaped me before I flopped back into my bed with my hands over my face, butterflies taking over my stomach as I fantasized about my newfound guilty pleasure.

[megamindsecretlair]

Hey, what happens in the incubus Tyrone Fic? Does the reader ever find out what Tyrone is? Why does Tyrone want the reader to carry his child? Is it just list or is it part of a bigger plan?

A/N: I got two asks about this. Could be from the same one, but I'm combining them. Except for reader trying to escape. Sorry, but we fuck monsters here 👏🏽👏🏽 also, reader does see Tyrone's true form in part 1 and kept fucking him 😈 she's on board 😌

Pour Into Me, Part 2

Pairing: Incubus!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH! PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, breeding kink, possession kink, all consensual. Pet names. AU Tyrone. Non-inclusive language.

Summary: Every night, you dream of the same man. A perfect man who makes all of your dirty fantasies come true. Upon receiving some news, you decide to go to him for answers and end up with a beautiful surprise.

Word Count: 4,075k

Part 1

A/N: Ya'll sicka me yet? LOL. Whew, this has also been sitting forever, please forgive me! Hopefully this was worth the hype because it sure tickled my brain. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @babybratzmaraj @iv0rysoap @misskiki90 @badassdoll @monaeesstuff

You stared at the positive pregnancy test with a mixture of shock, fear, and happiness. All of it roiled in your gut as you stared at those tiny lines indicating that you were, indeed, pregnant. Sure you thought of it constantly and you fucked your dream man enough times that it was a possibility, but you didn’t actually think it was possible.

After Tyrone began visiting you and you went through test after test, you didn’t think about the consequences of bringing new life into the world. You found your perfect man and you wanted to keep a piece of him. A crumb. A string to tie you to him so that if you ever lost him, you’d have something to prove he existed.

It was a childish, silly notion, but it was yours. No man on Earth would compare to Tyrone but after last night, you were apprehensive about going to sleep tonight. You were drowsy all day. Forgetting words and names. Your eyes drooped to the point that if you closed them, you weren’t going to wake up again any time soon. 

In the heat of the moment, you saw his true, bestial form and you weren’t afraid. After all, you had already given your body to him. You had already opened your legs for him and welcomed him home night after night. Hell, you hoped and prayed for this baby and let him finish inside you. You let his seed take root to grow this precious life.

Could you face it without the cloud of desire? Could you look at the pretty wrapping after seeing what he really looked like underneath? 

You would not call yourself a coward. In fact, you were a little spontaneous. A little like a daredevil as you chased the fastest and most freeing feeling. The rush of danger and wind on your brown cheeks. But you glanced at your bed with a bit of fear creeping in.

You weren’t afraid of Tyrone…maybe a little. But he had ample opportunity to kill you, if that was his goal. If you were going to keep this…baby/thing/dream child then you needed answers. You needed to know what you were signing yourself up for.

You turned the bathroom light off, yawning for the hundredth time that day. You approached the bed and climbed onto the soft cotton sheets. Sleep beckoned you instantly, pulling you deeper and deeper into dreamland.

There was no beach to greet you this time. There was no bed of clouds or mountaintop or any other previously wonderful sight that Tyrone took you to in your dreams. This time, you were standing in a villa.

Standing on a balcony, overlooking a sea of wild, dark waves crashing against a black, sandy shore. The sky overhead was nearly black with heavy clouds and the taste of rain on the air. Mist drifted softly from the clouds but nothing substantial enough to ruin your hair or outfit.

You wore the same lavender pajamas you wore to bed, bare feet on the cold hard tile beneath you. This place seemed empty. Bereft. Pillars stood behind you as you twirled to take in your surroundings.

You gasped softly as your eyes landed on Tyrone. He stood next to one of the pillars, half in view as he watched you. Gone were the ethereal outfits of white. He wore charcoal gray, loose-fitting pants and long-sleeved T-shirt that hung slightly off of his body.

His real form had red eyes, sharp teeth that slightly poked from his mouth, and wilder hair than before. He could almost pass for human but there was too much otherness about him that gave you the illusion of a werewolf more than a humanoid being. 

“It’s alright,” you said.

He stepped away from the pillar and approached you as if you were the one he needed to be wary of in this scenario. Like you could have any affect on him. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said.

You bit your lip and played with your fingers, twisting them in your grip to keep you tethered to any tendril of normalcy. It was perfectly normal to talk to this man outside of some grand villa with arched windows and stone work at the bottom. 

“I didn’t think so either. But, I should probably tell you..”

“You’re pregnant?” He jumped in, a burst of joy etching across his face before he schooled it once more into wariness. His eyebrows furrowed, his smile dropping away. 

“Guess you would know that,” you said with a small smile.

You expected to feel repulsion or perhaps more fear once you actually got in front of him. All you could think about was how happy he made you the past few weeks. Not only from the sex, but from your many talks. You shared things with him that no other living person knew. 

That was what you missed the most. You missed talking to him. Snuggling up to him. You just missed him. And the longer he stayed there, watching you like a stranger, the more that elusive fear did hit you. But it was a fear that you’d never hold him in your arms again. Fear that you’d never get to feel him inside of you.

“It’s safe to say that you owe me some answers,” you said. 

“Will you walk with me?” He asked. He made no move to get closer or touch you. You wished he would. That he would close this gap between you. Your heart seized in your chest. He was happy about the child, but was he happy about you? Or was his goal only the child? Would he snatch it from your stomach and run away to do who knew what with it?

You’d never know if you didn’t take him up on his offer. So you nodded. He nodded in agreement as well and walked back into the villa. He held the door open for you and you walked inside. 

It was like a museum of weaponry. The walls were painted a deep, blood orange red and on it were weapons of all kinds. Staffs, knives, daggers, swords. There was some art mixed in but it was more like splotches of color than anything resembling art in the real world. 

He didn’t say anything as he led you deeper inside, passing by training rooms and open bedrooms. So many, many bedrooms. Some were occupied with beings that sort of looked like him if you squinted. The same species? 

Questions swirled in your head. He led you down a set of stairs and then towards the back of the house. He led you to one of the many rooms. This one was closed off, dust swirling through the air with the bit of light that did reach the room.

You opened your mouth to ask something but he put his finger to his lips. The room was small, like a forgotten receiving room or waiting room for those people who weren’t staying very long. The furniture was old and out of style, at odds with the rest of the villa. 

Tyrone went to the back of the room and pushed against a wall. It opened under the pressure and he beckoned you to follow. You didn’t necessarily want to, but you needed answers. You walked through and the air turned moist, stone walls beneath your touch. There was no light in here and you swallowed audibly. 

Tyrone lightly tapped your hand and brushed past you, leading you down the hall. If it wasn’t for his magnificent presence, you wouldn’t have known where he was. It was a short trip down the passage, before he pushed through another wall and light reached you. Your eyes stung from the sudden, warm light but you quickly adjusted.

This room was like a private study. Big enough to be classified as a home office, it held wall to wall bookshelves filled with thick and heavy tomes. There were some small books, but it looked like the books were well worn. The desk in the middle of the room was filled with open books, notebooks, and drawings.

You took in the couch, the blanket, the plates. “What is this?” 

“Research. These mu’fuckas don’t read and sealed this place off a long time ago. There’s other libraries but it’s just for show,” he said. 

He moved forward in the room, gathering up wayward plates on his way, and sat on the edge of the desk. He gestured for you to sit on the couch. You did so, hugging your body and looking at him. 

“What exactly are you?” You asked slowly.

“I think you call us incubi,” he said.

“Sex demon,” you clarified. You raised your eyebrows and fought off a smile. The way he fucked, you believed it. 

“We gain energy from sex, yes,” he said. He crossed his arms, vibrating with nervous energy. You were worried that he was breaking some kind of code by allowing you here. Though from what you saw earlier, it seemed like there were plenty of humans who came here. Why had he never taken you here before? 

“So all this time, you’ve really looked like this?” You asked. You waved to what he looked like now. He was still sexy with thick arms and a strong jaw. You wanted to touch him. You hated this space between you. 

He nodded and looked away from you. 

“Tyrone, please. I need answers,” you said.

Tyrone took a deep breath. He began to explain more about his world. He didn’t precisely know where he came from, but he knew they were tasked with siphoning energy from humans’ dreams. Some do it through fear, some through happy memories, and some through anxiety dreams. He siphoned energy through people’s sex dreams. Sometimes he participated, sometimes he didn’t. He hadn’t siphoned energy by joining with humans for quite a while until you came along.

He explained how his world was ugly, dull, and gray. He was surrounded by petty incubi who saw humans as a food source rather than the gift they were. Every time Tyrone entered a dream, he was blown away by how vibrant humans were. How no matter what they went through, they still dreamed. Still hoped. Still tried. 

And he was tired of living like this. Living like a pest surviving off of scraps. One night, your body really did scream out for him. He beat away other incubi intent on siphoning off your powerful sexual energy and he wasn’t going to interrupt. He honestly wasn’t. But the moment he saw you, he wanted for the first time in his life. 

What he wanted was you. He wanted to see you, talk to you. He spent every moment he was awake waiting for you to fall asleep so that he’d get to hold you. Touch you. Fill you up with him and never let go. He thought by introducing you to many worlds and fantasies, the perfect dream man, that you wouldn’t see past what he wanted you to see. He was so lost inside your body last night that he let the illusion slip. And he was worried that you’d never want to see him again.

You rubbed your belly throughout his speech. This was so unlike anything you were thinking of. You weren’t expecting…this. You processed his words. Some of it you understood and some of it you didn’t. What you took away from it was that he felt like an outsider among his people. And he cared for you, in his own way.

“What does our baby have to do with it? Did you really want one with me or were you going to take it away to live…here?” This was what you really needed to know. The moment of truth. Was he going to steal your baby? Was this how they procreated? Foisted babies on unsuspecting women and then stole them as soon as they were born? 

You felt protective over it already. It was yours. And you would be damned if anyone, Tyrone included, tried to take it from you. You stood up from the couch, too nervous to continue sitting and listening to all of this. You were scared of what would fall from his mouth next.

“I really wanted one with you. But I don’t want to lie. If you had an incubus, I would be required to raise him here. He would also be an anchor point for me in your world. I’d be able to…stay there.”

The weight of his words was like a physical slap. Stay…with you? He’d be able to stay? Live in the real world? 

“What about your…people? Wouldn’t they come for him if he did end up being like you?” Your emotions were all over the place. You were happy, excited, scared, ready to throw up. Underneath it all, underneath all the noise and confusion, you were so damn elated that you shook where you stood.

You didn’t care about the logistics. You didn’t care what it would mean. You’d have your perfect man and a baby to boot. It’d be tough explaining it to your family and friends. They wouldn’t understand the incubus part of it. But you had told them you’d been seeing someone. Getting pregnant this fast wasn’t exactly in the cards, but fuck it. You were tired of not living your life for you. 

“I’d protect us,” he said. He leapt from the edge of the desk as if he were ready to ride into battle this second. He crossed the room towards you, still so careful to not invade your personal space. But you backed up against the nearest bookshelf anyway. His eyes drooped, catching the movement, but he balled his fists at his side. “I’d fight to my last breath to protect you and our baby.”

You smiled at him. Grinned actually. You rubbed your fingers together. This couldn’t be real. But you didn’t care anymore. “So, you…still want to be with me?” 

Tyrone stalked closer, crossing the boundary into your personal space. Your breathing turned quick, heart thumping painfully against your chest. You looked up into his eyes while he crowded you. He smelled like heaven. Something soft, light, and wonderful. 

He brought his hands to either side of your head and leaned against the bookshelf. He dipped his head closer to you and nudged your nose with his. “Have I done such a poor job of letting you know what I feel for you?” 

His voice was soft but deep, skating over you like a physical caress. Your thighs tingled, taking in his scent and looks. He looked damn good in that outfit. It was loose fitting but the color looked good on him. 

You licked your lips and shook your head. He pressed light kisses to your jaw and cheeks, intentionally bypassing your lips. No matter how many times you moved your head, trying to taste his lips again, he moved away at the last second. 

He slid one thigh in between your legs and you gasped, pussy clenching painfully. You gripped onto his shoulders to steady you. 

“So warm,” he said. 

Your fingers flexed on his shoulders as you looked into his eyes. He looked at you like he wanted to eat you up with a spoon. 

He kissed along your neck, driving you wild with his soft, sweet kisses. This was so different from how you’d previously been with him these past few weeks. “Lucky I can’t get yo ass pregnant again,” he whispered against your neck.

“Tyrone!” You screamed. 

He licked your neck. You shivered with a low moan. Your head thumped back against the bookshelf. Tyrone continued to lick and kiss and tickle you. You were turned on, breathing too heavily and feeling so clunky. He was so smooth, big, and strong by comparison. 

He brought his lips back to your jaw and then grazed your lips. You leaned forward but he leaned back at the last minute with a smile. “Tell me you want me,” he said. 

You opened your eyes and looked at him. “I want you,” you said. “I…love you.”

Tyrone grinned and crashed his lips against yours. He grabbed the sides of your head and mashed his lips against yours. It was sloppy, wild, and desperate. Completely at odds with how he was normally. And you loved it. You wanted more. You needed more. 

Tyrone turned you around and walked you backwards towards his desk. He pushed all of his research onto the ground and laid you down like a full feast spread just for him. He tugged your sleep pants down, revealing your legs. He kissed your legs as he pulled it down, leaving nips and bites in his wake.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. 

He helped you sit back on the desk and pulled your sleep top off. He grinned, taking in your body like it was the first time he was seeing you. He kissed you again, hands trailing down your sides. 

He kissed down your body, stopping to kiss your belly. He lingered there, head bent in prayer or benediction, and then moved lower. He grabbed your legs and spread them wider. He took in your glistening sex and moaned. 

“So fucking wet and pretty, angel,” he said. 

You moaned. “Please.” You couldn’t stop moving and gyrating. The desk was cold beneath your body but you were burning up. You were desperate for whatever he was going to do to you. You just needed him to hurry the hell up. 

Tyrone bent down and his tongue dived into your pussy. Teasing and licking around your clit. He didn’t completely lick it, not yet, content to torture you. “Ouue fuck!” You screamed out. 

Tyrone glowed with your wails and screams. Your legs were flailing, opening and closing around his head. Your hands flew to his hair and tugged on the neat braids. He growled into your pussy, falling forward and flattening his tongue against your pussy. 

He began to finally suckle your clit, slurping up your sloppy juices and moaning at the taste of you. “Please, please, please,” you shook against his heavenly mouth. You were close. So close. Out of your mind with–

“OH!” You moaned and screamed out your pleasure. You jerked and twisted as he still ate you out. He licked up your runaway juices, smacked his lips, and returned to your clit with a satisfied hum. 

He ate you until you calmed down, burning lungs calming down into something more manageable. Tyrone stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hands, grinning and showing off sharp teeth. That only turned you on. You grinned back and kept your legs open. 

Tyrone moved in between your legs so that he could pull you into a sitting position. He kissed you, soft and sweet. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips. Your heart threatened to fly right out of your chest. 

“You mean it?” You asked.

Tyrone pulled back and looked you in the eye. “I really mean it. If you’ll have me, I’ll never let you doubt me again.” 

“I want you,” you said. You tugged on his own pants. You could see his dick tenting them already. His dick sprang free, bobbing in place. The swollen head leaked precum. You licked the palm of your hand and then started pumping his nice, thick dick.

He groaned, eyes half closed, and his lips parting on a sigh. You stroked him faster, using a mix of your spit and his precum to grip him how he liked. His head dropped forward, head bumping against yours.

“Fuck,” he groaned. He only got bigger, feeding from your mix of sexual energy. He gripped your hand, stopping you. You pouted with a tiny whine.

“I wanna cum inside,” he said. He kissed you, taking your protests from your lips before you could say anything. He pulled off his shirt and stepped out of his pants. Then he was right back between your legs, pulling you closer to the edge.

He gripped his dick and rubbed it through your slick folds. Your teeth began to chatter as a full body shiver overtook you. You looked down, past your tummy, and watched as he pushed his dick inside.

You shared a low, deep moan as he began to work himself inside. You clutched onto his neck, pulling him towards you and trying to sink onto him quicker. You wanted him deeper. He chuckled at your neediness.

“I don’t wanna hurt the mother of my child,” he said. 

“Shit,” you moaned. Why was that so hot? Why did the thought of carrying his baby make you so insane with desire that you were getting wetter just from the notion? You were pregnant with his baby. Your belly would swell with his child and your titties would get bigger. 

He must’ve had the same thought because he moved his lips down to your breasts and suckled on your titties as he stroked deep inside you. You felt him in your belly, moving and poking the deepest part of you. 

Your legs hiked higher on his hips, opening yourself up further to him. His dick stroked the walls of your pussy, veins dragging against it and making your eyes water. “Oh shit, oh shit. Right there, baby, right there,” you moaned.

“Hmm, talk to me,” he moaned.

“Right there, baby. I’m gon’ cum,” you moaned. Your eyes were wide as you looked at him. He was stroking deep, moving his hips in a steady rhythm. Your orgasm rose in your lower belly like a wave on the ocean, gathering speed and strength.

When it finally rolled over you, you clutched Tyrone to you and screamed loud enough to go through the walls of the villa. You screamed and let him hear how good he was fucking you.

“Hmm, look at you, angel. So fuckin’ pretty cumming for me. It feel good, don’t it? I wish you could see how pretty you are,” he said.

His words of praise only made you twitch harder, shaking and gripping onto him as if he were your only lifeline. “Cum with me,” you managed to croak out.

Tyrone grinned and fucked you harder, stroking with a punishing pace that had you seeing stars once more. Your nails dug into his arms. He showed no indication that it hurt him. In fact, he seemed to like it since his dick twitched inside of you. His strokes turned sloppy and uncoordinated, rutting into you at this point.

Your pussy sucked him in, gripped him tight. “That’s right, angel. Don’t let me go,” he said.

“Never,” you moaned and shook your head.

“Never?” He asked.

“Never, never,” you chanted as another orgasm ripped through you. Your legs closed around his hips and he groaned, breath panting and fanning over you. He finally came, bathing your insides with his cum. 

Hot jets of cum filled you to the brim and he continued to pound into you, biting his lip, and groaning. “Can’t fuckin’ stop,” he groaned.

You screamed and screamed, finally biting into his shoulder to keep from tearing the villa down with your whines and cries. The edges of his world started to turn blurry, growing darker the more you huffed to calm down. 

“No, I wanna stay!” You yelled.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said. His dick twitched one last time inside of you. He covered you in kisses as you were pulled steadily from his arms and back to wakefulness. He was no longer inside of you.

A sob hiccuped in your chest. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to be apart from him. Your hand pushed across your cold bed and your head flopped onto the bed. Tears stung your eyes. A hand came around your waist and pulled you closer to a warm, thick body. 

You flipped over, staring into the soft reddish-brown eyes of Tyrone. He looked less demonic here, less animalistic. But he still looked like he didn’t quite belong. 

“T-Tyrone?” You asked.

He grinned and kissed your cheek. “I can stay,” he said.

You screamed and turned over, throwing your entire body on top of him and peppered him with kisses this time. You both screamed and celebrated all night, enjoying this little miracle. You were never giving him up.

Never.

Lordy, if you need some more after that, here ya go! The Secret Tyrone Files

[lakesparkles]

hii!!! would you be willing to do a little doodle of your nega ramona and gideon interacting? understandable if you don't take requests I'm just in LOVE with your design of her and your au in general!!! feel free to also use this ask to elaborate about the au more instead because id love to hear that too :D

Hi!! :D

Honestly, I wasn't going to draw this request today (I'm afraid I'm drawing Gideon too much lately lmao sorry, he just can't leave my mind). But I got some pretty weird comments on this AU of mine that made me kinda sad... so I kept rereading this ask to cheer me up and I'm very thankful you like her and this AU!! It really means a lot in this moment!

Now, the important part, yes, I take requests and I love this one:

Just a few things make Gideon feel uneasy. She's one of them. Not because he thinks she might be a ghost, but because she looks too similar to Ramona.

And more about the AU:

I would like to say I finally started writing a fanfiction about it and I'm close to finish the first chapter ^^

It'll be seven chapters long and it'll be hard to write ngl, I never wrote something like this before, usually my fics are cute ship things.

I can share the first scene:

Ramona and Gideon - I . . . She decides to leave one last time Or

Ramona remembers the seven reasons that made her fall in love with Gideon

She had that same fantasy every day. As she walked down the halls, running her fingers along the wall, she imagined herself entering her own room. It was satisfying, somehow. She could perfectly see herself opening her wardrobe, taking out the few things that really interested her, putting everything in her bag and simply walking away. In that fantasy, of course, she always smiled. She even laughed. That kind of hysterical and cathartic laughter only present in films. She wanted to imagine how Gideon would react: how long would it be before he realized she wasn't there anymore? Two weeks? And when would he realize that this wasn't just another one of her "famous tantrums"? Two months? Two years? Part of her was almost excited at the prospect of making him furious with such an accomplishment. It would be his turn to take endless turns through the halls, finally using his brain to try to understand what had gone so wrong between them. Maybe he would find out years later. Or perhaps that doubt would eat away at him for decades to come, the bitterness of her image never leaving his mind. And part of her… thought that wasn't realistic. She knew Gideon well enough to know that he would never even consider any mistake on his part, with a mixture of confusion that never ended well when it came to him. Or worst. He wouldn't even care about her lack of presence in that house. Therefore, Ramona released her fingers from the wall, slowly slowing down her steps until she stopped altogether. Then the fantasy ended. Every single time.

[erikahenningsen]

🎲🎲🎲 !!!!!!

8. A platonic kiss (spoiler alert: it isn't)

"Can I ask you something?"

Regina looks up from her history textbook, pen paused in the middle of writing the word reformation. She's seated on Cady's bed, notebook in her lap.

She's been spending more and more of her afternoons in Cady's room, doing homework in companionable silence. It's the only way Cady's mom lets her hang out with friends until she brings her calculus grade back up. Strangely, Regina finds she'd rather be here, studying for her AP exam, than walking around the mall or teaching Gretchen how to Dutch braid her hair.

If she spends half the time staring at Cady out of the corner of her eye, heart beating a little faster every time she does that cute nose scrunch thing when she's on a particularly difficult problem, that's nobody's business but her own.

"What's up?" Regina asks.

"What's it like kissing Aaron?" Cady asks.

The m in reformation turns into a jagged line down Regina's notebook page. She stares at Cady, certain she's heard wrong. "What?"

"You've kissed him. I've seen you do it," Cady says, as if that's where the confusion is coming from. "What's it like?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Regina says, feeling her cheeks warm. She's not sure why she's blushing; she isn't the one asking ridiculous questions here. "Haven't you kissed him?"

Cady shakes her head. "I've never kissed anyone," she admits quietly.

"Okay, so..." Regina says. "Then kiss your boyfriend?"

Cady lets out an annoyed huff. "But I can't! He's used to kissing you." Cady throws her arm out towards Regina and Regina isn't sure if she should be offended. "And you're good at that stuff." She pauses. "I mean, you are, right?"

"Uh," Regina says dumbly.

"And what if I'm bad at it?" Cady continues, more softly.

Regina shrugs. "Who cares?"

"I care!" Cady says. "There have been a few times where I could tell he was about to kiss me and I just freaked out and made up some excuse."

"Cady, what do you want me to do about it?" Regina asks, a little desperately. This conversation is bringing up all of her fantasies about kissing Cady, the ones she only allows herself to think about late at night when she's trying to fall asleep—definitely not in Cady's bedroom with her sitting right there.

Cady takes a deep breath. "Will you kiss me?"

Regina's pen falls from her slackened grip, bouncing off the bed and clattering to the floor. She opens her mouth, then closes it again, then opens it and manages to force out a "huh?"

"Please?" Cady asks. "You know what he likes. It's perfect."

It isn't perfect. It's objectively a bad idea. Her crush on Cady almost burned down the entire school, and they hadn't really ever even hugged.

"And we're friends," Cady adds, "so it wouldn't be weird, right?"

Friends. Friends! Regina's brain grabs onto the word. She can do this, as a friendly favor to Cady. Nothing more. It's a win-win, really—Cady gets some experience and Regina can finally get whatever this fixation on Cady is out of her system.

Before she can really think it through, Regina finds herself nodding. "Yeah," she says, her voice cracking. She clears her throat. "Right. Sure."

Cady's face lights up. "Oh my gosh, thanks!"

They stare at each other for a moment.

"Well, come here," Regina says. She draws the line at climbing into Cady's lap in her little desk chair.

Cady stands immediately, seeming to forget the calculator in her lap, which hits the rug with a thud. She comes and sits next to Regina on the bed and angles her body to face her, their faces a few inches apart.

Regina suddenly feels nervous. She's never been nervous about kissing someone before—but those were just boys. They didn't matter. She has to make this good for Cady, so Cady will want to kiss her again.

Regina catches the thought and buries it. So Cady can kiss Aaron, she corrects herself.

"Um, here," Regina murmurs, scooting a bit closer and lifting one of Cady's hands to her shoulder. It feels cool against her overheated skin.

"Okay," Cady whispers, and Regina can feel it against her lips in a way that makes her shiver. She puts a hand on the back of Cady's neck, takes a deep breath, and leans in.

Cady's lips are cool and dry but soft, and Regina has to focus on not immediately pressing Cady into the mattress. She applies just a hint of pressure, not much more than a meaningful press of lips. Cady inhales sharply but doesn't move.

Regina pulls back a bit. "Cady, you have to work with me here," she says, her voice only shaking a little.

"Oh, uh, okay," Cady says, seeming confused.

Before she can think about it, Regina reaches a hand up to Cady's lips and parts them just slightly. "Now tilt your head a bit," she says, and when Cady does, she leans in again.

This time, Regina's lips slot between Cady's, catching Cady's top lip in between both of hers. This time, Cady's mouth moves with hers, tentative at first, clumsy, but it sends something hot and electric down Regina's spine.

Emboldened, Regina presses closer, fingers flexing against the back of Cady's neck, and Cady responds with a soft sound that Regina knows will never stop playing in her brain, even on her deathbed.

Regina pulls back a little, her lips sliding over Cady's now tacky with spit and Regina's lip gloss, adjusts the angle of her head. Without thinking, she grips Cady's upper thigh with her other hand, and Cady arches into her. Heat burns through Regina's body, blooming in her chest and spreading down to pool below her stomach, and alarm bells start going off in her head.

Regina pulls back more suddenly than she means to, and Cady falls into her a little before she catches herself. Cady is breathing hard, her pupils dilated, her lips reddened. Regina desperately wishes she could delete the last five minutes from her brain because she has no idea how she's going to be able to think about anything else for the rest of her life, and she has her AP European History exam in two weeks.

"Wow," Cady says, a little breathlessly. She runs a hand through her hair. "I see why Aaron liked kissing you. Thanks." She laughs a little, even though she's just said the least funny and most destructive thing for Regina's sanity she could possibly say.

"No problem," Regina says, her voice faint. "What are friends for?"

Cady smiles at her. Regina smiles back, reflexively.

Well, shit.

[ken-dom]

Kiss

Driver x gn!reader

750 words

Summary: Driver has fantasised about kissing you for so long that when it finally happens his arousal becomes overwhelming

Author’s notes: I couldn’t stop thinking about the headcanon that he gets off to the thought of kissing, which is both my own headcanon, and which I’ve read in almost every Driver fic and headcanon post I’ve seen. So of course I wrote my own a little drabble about it...

I originally posted this to my main blog but I'm re-posting all my work here to have everything in one place due to an unresolved tagging issue on my main

Warnings/content: nsfw — smut, gn!reader, kissing, making out, premature ejaculation, hinted handjob, voyeurism, mention of masturbation, glove kink

At first it wasn’t clear who started it. It was most likely you, when you plucked the toothpick from between his teeth, biting your lip as you eyed him. At some point, you’d leant into each other and each pushed the other back in equal measures. It blurred in the haze of rapture.

There came a clear change when you thrust a hand up into his soft hair and he dropped back against the sofa cushions, naturally pulling you with him.

While he melted into the cushions your thighs naturally straddled his, and your bodies pressed flush together in such a way that he began to tremble at the contact.

The only sound was the combination of his ragged breathing and your steady panting, slipping out between satisfied, crashing lips, breath hot against each others mouths between needy kisses. Until your tongue pushed into his mouth.

Your hands ran from his hair, stroked at his throat and glided over his chest.

His heart raced. He wondered if you’d be able feel it beating through his ribcage as you touched him.

He hoped you were feeling the same thrill that he was.

The same electricity tingling through your nerves, the same heat rushing to pool between your thighs, the same desperate need to be kissed so intensely, so deeply, that you wouldn't remember to breathe.

He couldn’t think about it for too long though; your mouth on his was hot and wet and soft and firm and tender and a thousand times better than the fantasy he’d spent far too many lonely nights replaying and perfecting.

It was too much and it wasn’t enough. He was dizzy and he was floating. And he was simmering already, his cock throbbing painfully inside his jeans, slick with precum and pressing, hot and hard, against your body.

One little shift of your hips and-

‘Ohh... ughhhh-’

All it took was a single moan. One quiet, sensual moan from you.

It was mostly swallowed by his mouth and vibrated against his tongue, and as he felt it, as he heard it, he spilled uncontrollably into his underwear, cock twitching through the aching bliss of feeling so incredibly turned on, untouched yet finding release.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d felt this way. He'd been embarrassingly horny before, but he'd been alone then. And if he was alone now, simply watching you from a distance or playing out this fantasy in his mind, he could easily slip his hand down inside his jeans and bring himself off, hard and fast, the leather of his driving gloves fooling his brain just enough to believe it could be your hand.

In this moment though — this real moment — he had wanted to take his time with you. He would seriously need to learn how to pace himself if he was going to be able to satisfy you. This wouldn't do at all.

But for now, it was too late. Fuck. The strength of his orgasm overtook any rational thought and a low, guttural groan pierced your kiss, his fingertips suddenly driving hard into your flesh as he held your hips still against his twitching cock.

God, it was better than any fantasy. He’d never replicate this feeling again on his own. Not without your kiss. And as he came down from his peak, his cheeks turning red, he supposed there wouldn’t be a next time.

But you moaned again. Louder this time, playfully biting and sucking at his bottom lip and lapping at his tongue.

You liked it? You liked that he couldn’t control himself long enough to get through a simple kiss without cumming in his pants like a horny teenager? That this was his fantasy? That more than bending you over his car or fucking up into your pretty mouth from the drivers seat, he wanted to feel your tongue slide against his?

Fuck.

Your fingers began to work his jeans open and a flash of panic struck him in the gut. Maybe you hadn’t realised, but you soon would, slipping your unsuspecting hand into his underwear, wet through with a generous helping of his cum before you'd even tried to touch him.

Ah. Relief. You'd not broken the kiss and as you prepared to touch him, he felt the familiar pulls of arousal once again.

Familiar, but with the added sensation of his cock still tender with the aftershocks of his all too recent release.

You sighed as your fingers wrapped around his hardening length, pleased with what you found.

It felt good. You felt good.

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

𝄞 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 °𝄞

☆ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 ☆

"I can change the past"

♬♪ 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ♬♪

ᯓ★ previous chapter | next chapter ★ᯓ

✶࿐ Summary : can you able to protect everyone from harm? can you save everyone's lives that you know that are in danger when it's already written in the past?

✶࿐ Word Count : I am so driven to write the next part even it's a tad bit long! 😅

✶࿐ Warnings : 18+ Eddie Munson x Future!FEM!reader, cursing, time travel, fantasy, comedy, Jason Carver appearance! (sorry, he's going to be a problem here), toxic wrong point of view of religion, not gonna spoil anything here!

✶࿐ What to Expect : fluff at the beginning, angst at the end, my bad, y'all- reader is still adjusting herself in this! but there will be more comic relief on this, I promise! :))

✶࿐ Note To Reader : wow, you guys are totally invested in this! I just couldn't believe it, I love every notification that I'm receiving and I'm so happy! 🥺🫶🏻✨

✶࿐ Author Note : the next parts are going to be tough and I don't wanna spoil too much because I just have my gears working on and I can't contain my excitement! 🤭

𓆩♱𓆪 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𓆩♱𓆪

❦ 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙖'𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙜𝙚 ❦

Eddie woke up still in the exact same position as he stare down at you

He has to rub his eyes to clear his vision and a couple of blinks

He winced a little bit when he felt his arm numb from where you're resting, his hand is settled at your back as his cheeks tinged pink from the close contact of both of your bodies

He doesn't even realized that he is in the bed with you

Both of you we're so exhausted that the sleep takes you both much more closer than before

You're still asleep peacefully, he noticed that you're relaxed the way your features are less stressful

You're head is perfectly nestled to his side as he watches your chest rises up and down

He moves your hair out of your face as he tucked it behind your ear that it made you stir in your sleep as he freezes up

The moment he sees your eyes moving fast as it opens slowly, when you're analyzing where you are, he quickly shut his eyes close again pretending that he's still asleep when you looked at the person who is mere inches close to you that you can almost feel his lips to yours

You stare at him wide eyes open as you follow his arms where he holds you in place

You feel your body is on fire to be this close to him, at first you feel tensed about it but you eased out when your brain finally register who is the person beside you

He can feel your eyes still staring at him as he badly wanted to snap his eyes open to see you

To watch you admire him, you thought he doesn't know but he does

You take the opportunity to look at his pretty face, his freckles, you don't even know that he has them, his curls are all frizzed up from sleep

He smells just how you imagined it, fuck, who would've thought you could sleep beside Eddie Munson?

"Eddie?"

That's where you and Eddie almost bulged both of your eyes out of your skulls as you both heard the voice outside of Eddie's room

You stare at each other as Eddie's eyes went everywhere, both of you we're panicking badly as you both hear the upcoming footsteps getting closer and closer

There's no time to hide, so, instead, you hide in Eddie's blanket, oh, he is so amused as he bites his lips to hide his smirk

He loved seeing the panic in your eyes as if he wasn't a second ago

As if Wayne's is on cue, the moment you covered yourself with the blanket, he opens the door

"Hi!" Eddie greets his uncle bizarrely happy

He looks at his nephew with a confused look as he shook his head, he notices that he isn't in his sleepwear

"Why are you still in your yesterday's clothes?"

"Uh- I just got so tired from the campaign after school" he lies

"Huh, well, there's food in the fridge"

Your stomach began to grow loudly as soon as you heard that word that you squeeze your eyes shut

Wayne raises both of his eyebrows at the sound as Eddie clears his throat

"Y-Yeah, thanks- Wayne" He pretends to hold his stomach "I'm hungry" he chuckles awkwardly

"Why don't you join me for breakfast?"

"Sure"

The old man smiles as he finally closes the door

"Phew!" Eddie blows up the long awaited sigh as he watches you take off the blanket that you covered on top of you

You too take a deep sigh of relief as you covered your face with your palms, "I'm still stuck here, don't I?"

"Yeah" He answers despite the muffled sound from your voice as he looks at you

You remove the hands from your face as you raise your head finding him already looking at you

God, the way sun hits his beautiful brown eyes, it's so angelic

"I- uh- I'm sorry for-" you break the eye contact as you used your elbows to sit up from his bed

"What are you sorry for?"

"Me? for crashing in here"

"Well, I don't mind you crashing in here" he emphasize the word with his usual classic dramatic tone as he give you a smile

You became shy under his gaze as you look down at your clothes feeling uncomfortable with it

Eddie realizes you have no memory what just happened last night, so, he doesn't want to ask what is it all about

"So, I'll be picking up the food from there and bringing it here-" he gestures at the door

"No- Eddie, you don't have to" you protest as he dismissively wave his hand at you

"Girl- I just heard your monster belly growling" he tuts as he shake his head in disagreement

You snorted, "monster belly?" you watch him as he gets up from the bed

"Uh, yeah? So, don't act that you're not that famished, okay? I'll be giving it to you because I wanted to"

He doesn't give you a chance to objection any further as he's out of the room

"This is only a bare minimum, Y/N, he is just being nice to you"

Yeah, keep telling that to yourself

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"Have you seen Lucas?"

"Why should I know about his whereabouts?"

"Hey, I may not know what's going on between the two of you but we need to inform anyone about this"

Max sighs as she sits down at the chair, "I think he's over at Jason's house"

"Fuck, and Mike is at California, he just left earlier" he placed both of his hand in a stressful manner as he keep pacing around the room

He joins besides Max as he keeps anxiously bopping his knee up and down

"Max"

"Yeah?"

"I know we just met Y/N but I fear, she knows much more of the events of what happened, I can feel it, I feel it deep within my gut"

Max feel disturbed by it too of the things that you said last night, "Me too" she turned her body around to face him

"Like the one with Chrissy, she was supposed to die but she clearly saved her"

"Does that mean there could be others? Who's next?" Dustin worriedly said as he cupped his mouth

"I saw the fear in Eddie's eyes, when I came over to this trailer because I've been hearing a lot of noise and the lights, the lights flickered" Max mirrors the exact same fretful face

As they both look at each other thinking about the same thing

"We gotta warn everyone about this"

Dustin hastily picks up his bagpack and walkie-talkie as Max jumped to his sudden action as her eyes follow him, jogging behind Dustin who is determined to meet everyone

"Where are we going?"

"Family Video, Steve and Robin, they're the only ones we could reach"

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"Mike, thank you so much for the flowers, I love them"

"I missed you"

"I miss you too"

Suddenly, there's an electricity snapped on El's brain that it made her winces in pain slightly, an image of a person flashes before her very eyes making her close it on an instant

"El, are you alright?"

"Uh- yeah" she says as she held her head as Mike caresses it

"You don't seem well enough, come on, let's get you home" he takes her by his arms as they exit the airport along with Jonathan, Argyle and Will

She's unfazed of what just happened but she feels that something and she knows it

Something else is with them, it's not threatening, it's not dangerous

It's a human being but who is it?

It's a good energy that she felt on that area, but, it's odd

It's odd that she could still sense these things when she lost her powers, a year ago

It's preposterous to even think about it that it can be possible

"We're gonna have the bestest spring break ever!" Argyle's cheer startled her forcing her back into the reality away with her thoughts

Who is this vague being that entered their life?

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"No, Chrissy, would never-" Jason denies Patrick's hunches

"Then explain why she went with the freak last night?" He brings up of what he heard from Chrissy's classmates

"Maybe she was forced to come" Jason jump into the wrong conclusions

Lucas restrained the pull from his eyebrows as he felt weird from the conversation that he's having in the group

"I think it's that satanist cult that he's doing" Patrick suggests and that made everyone agree to this

"The Hellfire Club?" Jason holds up a picture of the said club as he looks at it in disgust

"It's a game"

"What?"

"It's Dungeons & Dragons, it's a board game not a cult"

Jason walks towards to Lucas as he swallowed when everyone looks at him in suspicion

"Do you play this game, Sinclair?"

Yes he thinks to himself, "Uh, no, my sister does"

The tension in the air slowly eating him up as the phone rings saving him from the accusatory that he might be involved in it

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jason"

"Hey, Chrissy" he pretends to be enthusiastic as he motions to everyone huddled up behind him leaving Lucas from afar as he looks at them unsettling

"I'm heading out"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm with the girls"

"Oh, have fun, babe, get home early, okay?"

"Okay"

"Love you

"I love you too"

The fake smile that he has on his face has turn to a sickening one as the gears on his head started to work up on a plan

"We should follow her to see if she's telling the truth" Jason told everyone in the room to get ready

Now, Lucas cannot the resist the confusion as he let his face crumpled as he watches everyone grabbing weapons and other murderous things

"People in Hawkins should wake up that maybe this is just a disguise that they want us to think that this is just game when in reality they're sacrificing lives of teenagers"

The rest of the basketball group cheered in unison except for Lucas

"Eddie Munson should be condemned in hell"

That is the very last thing Jason said as he uses his lighter to burn the picture of The Hellfire Club as everyone chanting to end him

Does he made the right choice to join them?

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You're chewing on a roast beef sandwich that has Eddie prepared for you

Your curious eyes watch him as he places a fresh pair of old clothes of his at the table

You furrowed your brows and you gesture to it, "What's this?"

"Uh- clothes? Aren't you like uncomfortable of what you're wearing?"

He's right, you feel disgusting and unclean as you became unconscious

Eddie catches your expression and he immediately feels bad about it seeing your slight frown, "Not that I am saying that you....you know, I just wanna be hospitable and you're kinda one of my first guests here at my place" he gives you a smile that shows his dimples

You stopped at mid-chew to look at him, all you see is kindness, no look of judgement

As if he sees you untrustworthy yesterday but now there's a glint of his eyes that says you could count on him

You grind the food in your mouth as you swallow before answering, "Thank you" you say as you covered your mouth, he smiles at the manner as he takes a sip of his coffee

Eddie gave you an extra towel and lead you to the small bathroom

He is amused at the way you keep protesting at him that he should go first but he insisted that he wanted you to feel comfortable and relaxed

Knowing that he prioritize your state first before his, you feel special, completely feel so special

"Where did you put Dustin's walkie-talkie?" you walk out of his room as you used his brush for your hair, you look for it everywhere as you forgot to look at the metalhead as he is so awestruck in you

He pushes himself off against the wall, the moment he heard your voice but he can't no longer form the words when he saw you wearing his old Scorpions shirt, the collar is very loosed and you make it look like an off shoulder as he gets a peek of your black bra strap on your shoulder and his black old trousers

Yeah, you're pretty, he thinks to himself

You stop at what you're doing when he remained silent and look at him

You could never escape those eyes of his can't you? you feel flustered at his gaze as you snap your fingers at him

"Eddie?"

He stumbled back, "Uh-yeah?"

"Where's the walkie-talkie?"

He points at the coffee table and you picked it up

"I'm just gonna- uh- freshen up too, just be at home" he scratches his head

"You freeze at her again, you dumbass" he thinks to himself

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Dustin and Max arrived at the Family Video, Steve turns his head at the bell ringing, he greets them but stop abruptly when he saw the spooked faces of them

"Hey guys-" Steve's smile slightly drops as he watches the two kids in front of him

"Just come with us" Max plainly said as she keeps motioning at the door

"What?" Robin over exaggeratedly exclaims as she knocked a couple of VHS boxes

"Code red, okay, Code red!" Dustin slams his hands at the table

"If this is a prank, I'm going to-" Steve rolls his eyes as he is not buying the sudden urgency

"It's about Y/N!" Dustin reaches the limit of his patience as he shouts it out loud in the store, thankfully, there's no locals around

"Excuse me?" Robin questions the both of them, looking at them for answers

"We're going to tell you about it on the way but please just come with us, someone was supposed to die yesterday and we met someone who can help us" Dustin ranted it all out as he keeps on begging to accompany them

Steve and Robin looked at each other as they both got alarmed what Dustin said

"We need to alert everyone that we know" Max added as Dustin agrees with her

The kids turns off the light, Steve locks the storage room and Robin flips off the "We're Open!" now "We're Closed" sign at the door as they all went off

"Alright, who is this, Y/N?" Steve asks as he turns on the engine of his car

Dustin and Max nod at each other as they begin to fill them in about you

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"Where do you say was it?"

"Just turn over here"

"Are we there yet?"

"A few miles more left"

"I can't wait to blow punches at their faces, those assholes"

Patrick is malaise at the feeling that he is having as he feels queasy and he shakily tears off a ply of a tissue paper as he wipes the blood drip from his nose

Lucas is sitting right beside him at the backseat of Jason's car as he saw the whole thing but he kept unaware of what's gotten into him, but he feels concerned from him though that it made him forget that they're about to fucking ambush Eddie's bandmates that he knew personally that Jason didn't know about and when he knew it

He is so screwed

But, then he remembers that Mike mentioned that he saw Max having the same way that Patrick had just now, couldn't be? Is there something going on that he didn't know? that he should know about?

No, they're in a bad shape, bad bloods, whenever they're together, they always argue with the same reasons, that's why they exchange cold responses with one another

He doesn't even know what to do, he is still being caught in the middle whether if he should get out of Jason's clique or he should get back to where he belongs in the first place, he is conflicted in his situation

They don't even support him yesterday at his basketball game, yeah, they we're there but begrudgingly, not fully hearted wanted to be there

Whatever he tries to make them understand, they just won't get it what he means, he is just tired, so tired of being picked around and become the laughingstock of the school

I mean, who doesn't? right? it's miserable to be in the shoe of being bullied at school everyday of your life

They always say that he changed that he forgot who his friends are, no, he didn't, they just unable to understand what he feels truthfully, he has always been there for them isn't he? but when it's about what he needs and wanted for himself, they didn't show any care for him

Just because he wanted to get out of the hellhole of being tormented by mouthbreathers, doesn't mean that he will also stay out of their lives

But, they act as if that he committed a crime of choosing for himself this time

It's knackering to be overlooked all the time

"Hey, Sinclair"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Get your head in the game"

"Right, yeah"

I hope they're not at home, he thinks to himself

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You've been staring at the walkie-talkie as you recall the events after Chrissy

No, it can't be, Is Jason going after Eddie's friends and Fred Benson being the next target of Vecna at the same time?

You know that Nancy is with him, but, you don't know where could she be

They're probably driving somewhere else and you don't know if you have more time to save the both of them

You don't have the time to be petrified, you need to move and get on with it

"Hey"

You flinched at the touch from Eddie's hand on your shoulder as he gets concerned about your sudden uneasiness

"Woah, Y/N, it's just me"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I'm just thinking"

"What are you thinking about?"

"Pardon me for causing another distressful scenario, but, uh- I'm thinking about what will happen after I just saved Chrissy"

"W-What? you mean there's more?"

"Yes, unfortunately"

"Fuck, then what are we going to do?"

"Where are your friends?"

"My what?"

"Your bandmates, Jeff, Gareth and Lewis"

He tilts his head, the fact that he already knows that you're from the future and he is still getting the hang of it all of this freakishness, he still gets stunned by it

"I don't have a moment to be shocked right?"

"Eddie, come on, this is serious!"

"Right, right, yeah, let's bolt"

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When Eddie parked his van on the side of the road, he looked over you as he follows your sight

You saw the three of them, jamming out at Gareth's garage

"What are y'all supposed to do?"

"We have a band practice today"

You look on every corner in the neighborhood to see if there will be incoming cars are going to ride down on the road but nothing else is showing up

That means, you beat Jason, you and Eddie came here first before them

"Y/N, tell me what this is all about, you're making me nervous" he pulls the keys out as he searches in your eyes for answers

"You have to convince them" you hurriedly get out of the seatbelt as you climb down from the passenger's seat

"Convince?" He asks as he is so confused about your concern looks to his friends like he keeps bringing his eyes back to you and to them

He saw a lot of perturbed faces from a lot of people but this?

It's different, so different like he has never seen before on his entire life to be this so caring? He saw it on Wayne when he was a kid but seeing it on somebody else who is not blood related to him, you're a stranger and yet he could feel like can say everything to you without you getting weirded out

He wonders why are you even helping his lost sheepies that he treasured so sacredly

Do you even know about his reputation in Hawkins?

Because if you do, you wouldn't be helping him like this, Right?

"Just come along" you pull his forearm as you held onto it making the metalhead blooms the red tint on his cheeks as he nods as you both make your way

The music was loud that they didn't even felt both of your presence as they're so in lost with the feeling playing their instruments

"Hey, Eddie!" Lewis beamed at Eddie who waves at him as the two young men stopped playing as they swing their necks to follow their friend's gaze, Lewis acknowledge you in a kind welcoming smile

"We're just getting started" Jeff said as he relaxes his posture, he even fixes himself when he saw you walking behind Eddie

Gareth's mouth is agape when he sees you alongside with him

"Did I miss a chapter? Who is she-" He drops his drumsticks as he gets up and walks his way to the both of you

"Please come with us, you guys, have to hide" you bluntly said without any context making the guys looked at each other in confusion

Gareth who judges you from up and down as he looked over your shoulder, "Eddie?"

"Just listen to her" he shrugs, giving him a pointed look that is enough to shut them all up for more questions

Jeff who still holds his guitar, you noticed it, "Leave it"

"What?"

"Just leave it here"

Lewis does the same as you lead them into Eddie's van

When Eddie gets on the driver seat, you came up behind him and said, "Is there someway we can look from afar? without anyone seeing us?"

He didn't ask you for anymore questions this time as he just only nods and turns the ignition and hides a couple of blocks away from Gareth's house

"This is the perfect spot, Eddie" you say as you lean downward in the van's window, not opening up the blinds fully

Gareth tries to read both of your faces as he couldn't understand why both of you are too serious

Too serious, for his liking

"Is this some kind of a joke?" Gareth whispers to Eddie who pulls him at the back while you're looking outside as all of them don't have any idea what is going on

"Is she your girlfriend or something?" Jeff whispers back that earned him an elbow to his stomach making him whimpered in pain

Lewis chuckles rings in the cramped space in the van, little does Eddie know that you're amused by the silly banter that they're having in the back

"What are we even here for?" Gareth looks at the back of your head

"Yeah, why do we need to hide?" Jeff asks as he leans down over your shoulder, you ignore him

"Y/N, what are we waiting for? you didn't answered me earlier" Eddie crouches down beside you as he looked at you

"Wait, look" Lewis points at the incoming car that is familiar to them

The rest of the men are hyperfocused like you do now

"Is that-" Gareth squints his eyes

"Jason" Eddie clenches his jaw as he stands up

"What are they even doing here?" Lewis kept a furrowed brow as he tries to understand their action

You saw all of the basketball group walking towards at Gareth's garage

"Why is Lucas hanging out with those douchebags?" Gareth comes forward to look more closer into the scene

It looks like Jason commanded the three of his men went to check around the house, Lucas who looked everywhere as if he felt there's something is wrong in here and you know that he doesn't want to be part of this any longer

You could already feel him coming apart from Jason's basketball group

When the three came back to Jason, all of you got shocked to see his behavior unfolded right before your very eyes

Out of frustration, he angrily kicked and ruined Gareth's drum set

"Hey, he has no right-" you hold him back saying "No"

"Excuse me?"

"That's the exactly reason why I need all of you to hide"

Gareth, Jeff and Lewis looked at you in a peculiar manner as they slowly turn their heads at Eddie

"It's kinda of a long story" he scratches the back of his neck

The sudden knock at the van's door making all of you jump at the sound, you look back at Gareth's place, they're all still in there, unaware of your hiding spot

When open the door, your jaw almost dropped to the floor, "What the- Chrissy?"

"Hi, Y/N" she waved at you sweetly as if you're not frazzled right now

You pulled her quickly inside as you looked around outside to check if someone else is there

"Did anyone followed you?"

"No"

"But how in the hell, did you found us?"

"Uh, Eddie told me that they're having a band practice yesterday and he told me that I can come over, but while I was walking to head over there, I saw all of you get inside, Eddie is with you? Right?"

"Yeah, he's with me" you motion at the side, where Chrissy turned her head as the rest of the boys waved their fingers at her, Eddie slapped their hands off making them quiet for their sniggering

The bright smile on her face wiped out when she saw Jason throwing every sound equipment

"W-Why is he breaking everything?" Chrissy ran over to the window as the rest of you got shocked to see is now messy everywhere

"When I get my hands on that, man" Gareth huffs in exasperation

Chrissy looks at him that made him nervous, "No offense"

"None taken, I- I just don't understand why is he doing this"

"I gather them all up in here to be safe because I know this was coming"

"You knew Jason is coming?" Jeff asks in a high-toned voice, Eddie glared at him, "I'm sorry, I just need answers, man" he holds his hands up in surrender

"Is she from the future or something?" Lewis suggests jokingly for amusement but turns to serious when you nod, you didn't flicker any emotion that you're not kidding

In fact, you we're not kidding at all

"Uh- not the Back to the Future type of shit" Gareth wipes his face dramatically as Eddie rolls his eyes, "But that's a good movie"

"Eddie, I didn't say it wasn't a good movie-"

"Fuck-" your eyes went wide when you remember that this isn't the only event that you're going to save

You saved The Hellfire Club, Fred Benson's life is at stake

You fumbled with your bag as you look for the walkie-talkie

"Fuck, what?" Chrissy questions you as she came over to your side

Eddie breathes deeply as he watches you, he is already preparing himself

"Dustin?" You say over at the walkie-talkie

"Y-Y/N? Is that you?" Dustin straighten himself up at the passenger's seat as Robin, Steve and Max paid attention

"Do you know where Nancy is?"

"What, Wheeler?-" Eddie mutters under his breath as he kept his eyes steady on you

"Shh-" Chrissy shushes him up as she watches you

"Yes, yes! I do! Mike mentioned to me that Nancy couldn't go when we're looking for a sub for the D&D because she was needed for the journalism that she has to cover up for next week" Dustin saids it all at once without taking a breath on every word that he speaks out

"Okay, good, um- but I need to know where could she might be?" You punctuate your wordings as you emphasize it more to him as if he could see you

"Shit- well, she might be in the town's library or-"

"Eddie's place"

"Wait- what do you need her for?"

"Because the person that she's with is Fred Benson, and he is the next victim-"

"Of Vecna, fuck-"

"Dustin, I am very positive that they'll be at Eddie's place"

"Are you so sure about this?"

"Yes, I am"

"Okay, we're going there, take care"

"You too, over and out"

"Am I tripping or did I just heard that someone else is going to get killed today?" Gareth tilts his head at you as he couldn't comprehend everything that is going on right now

"You heard her, she knew that our lives are in danger and she was right" Lewis reasons with him, Gareth's eyes goes even wider as if didn't get any bigger than before

"Is that the girl, you're talking about-" Jeff leans closer to Eddie's ear as he nods in confirmation

"Yeah, dude- that's her" Eddie points to you as he watches you intently

"To be honest, Y/N, I only did not come for to see them practice but I really wanted to get close to you after last night, it's like- after what just happened- I can't trust anyone right now, except for you and the others, I can't just stay at home knowing about there could be more others like me" Chrissy takes a hold of your hand as you caught off guard by it, you slowly smile at the gesture as you saw the twinkle of Chrissy's eyes, she trusts you

"What do you mean there could be more others like you?" Gareth spoke up with a face that looks "unbelievable"

"Without her, I wouldn't be here anymore" Chrissy answered that left him completely goners by the revelation

In the midst of overlapping conversations in the van, you we're too deep in thought until it dawned on you that you can actually do it, you have to ability to flip the pages, switch the story, save a lot of lives

"Do you guys have any idea what this means?" your eyes light up in wonder but the tone of your voice is mixed with nervousness but with a lot of certainty

"What is it, Y/N?" Eddie holds your shoulder, your heart melted when you saw the worried look on his eyes

"It means that I can change the past"

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taglist <3 : @paleidiot @marsmallow433 @whothefckissofia @letsfallinlove-blog @silky-luxe @imagine-all-the-imagines @theladyasgard @mayaluvzyou @mewchiili

(sweet baby chapter 3 is here! once again, I can't never thank you guys enough for liking, supporting, reblogging and the comments that I received, were all so freaking unreal to me! I'm sorry that I keep saying this over and over again, it's grounding me to never stop writing because there is someone out there who really enjoys reading my work! y'all so incredibly nice to me and I appreciate all of you!!!!! I love you and I hope y'all like this one! 🥺🫶🏻✨)