#I PROMISE THERES A LIST OF WONDERFUL THINGS I LOVE ABOUT ALL OF YOU IN MY HEAD

[m0llygunn]

Apologies and Promises (eddie munson x fem!reader)

Part 3 to Same Old Song and Dance 01 / 02 Summary: Hurt feelings hidden under the shallow guise of anger and indifference, in an inebriated state there’s no choice but to face the layers of truth.

Tropes: enemies to lovers (kind of), mean stubborn idiots in love, honestly idk at this point. Warnings: 18+! mature language, ‘bullying’, forcible wrist holding, pet names (princess, sweetheart, angel, baby), mentions of oral (m receiving), angst, alcohol consumption, vomit mention. Author’s note: I am resisting the urge to over explain why theres no smut and this chapter was needed to progress feelings (i know smut is a selling point IM SORRY... but soon i swear it'll be back). wc: 7.2k+

tags: @needylilgal022 @tlclick73 @ropickle @suethh @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @emma77645 @yujyujj

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You didn’t wait around for him to show but you also didn’t expect to have to wait around for him to show.

You’re not disappointed. Why should you be? You didn’t want him to pick you up anyways. 

If anything, you’re pissed. 

He relentlessly badgered you last night about it. Wouldn’t leave until you agreed to let him drive you to school. He was so insistent, that he nearly slept on your floor using that stupid notebook as a pillow.

You’re not disappointed. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Want me to knock him out?” Steve offers and you can’t help but laugh. 

Steve was dropping off his coworker-turned-best friend, Robin, when you were walking into school. He’s a close family friend— and Nancy’s on-again-off-again boyfriend, so you happily stopped for a chat. 

“Steve. I hate to break it to you but Munson’s a veteran school fighter. He might not win every fight but he’s definitely been in more fights than you.” You say, patting Steve on the cheek as he comically deflates before you.

“Hey! I won the last fight I was in and I’ve been working on my biceps, can’t you tell?” He says, flexing his arms. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You smile, watching Steve flex his unnoticeably larger arms until he rounds up his antics and leans back against his car. “Your dad at that work conference thing too?” You ask, curiously wondering if it really is a work trip your dad’s on right now. 

“Absolutely. Any chance to get away, right?” Steve says with a somber laugh. 

“I know the feeling...any chance.” You reply, nodding your head in agreement.

“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs. “Might throw a party, might not.” He says indifferently. You perk up at the idea of a party. It’s always the same crowds that show, you know the list of attendees like the back of your hand.

“You should, I can get Nance to come along, maybe you can rekindle.” You say, hitting Steve’s arm. This could be to his benefit too, Nancy has been bringing him up again recently and that’s always the catalyst to the ‘on again’ portion of their relationship.

“You got some kind of insight?” Steve replies, eyes studying you.

You purse your lips, choosing your words wisely. “Can't say. Bad enough I already told you my business, can’t tell you her business too, Stevie.” 

Steve smiles, shaking his head, accepting your answer because he knows that’s as close as he’ll get to you spilling Nancy's secrets. 

He knows all about your rivalry with Munson, and as much as he doesn’t like the guy, he was actually the first one who suggested sleeping with him quite some time ago. It was a joke of course… yet here you are. You figured he deserved to know that he was some sort of prophet, so you filled him in. Not in as much detail as you did with Nancy, but you told him the gist of it. 

Your conversation with Steve simmers to a lull, both of you watching over the crowd of students funnelling from the parking lot into the school. You’re not explicitly looking for it, but you can’t help but notice the lack of a certain obnoxiously loud van. 

“You’re good, right?” Steve asks, shoulder bumping your own.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“You sure?” He asks again, turning towards you enough to gauge your reaction. You shrug your shoulders.

“Maybe a little embarrassed.” You say, shifting back and forth on your feet, eyes still flickering over the bustling parking lot. 

“Don’t be. Fuck him.” He says making you snort a laugh.

“Fuck him?” You question, smirk playing on your lips.

“No! I mean, unless you want to. But he did stand you up so…” Steve says trailing off. You try to laugh it off but it sounds more like a scoff. 

“Yup. Eddie Munson stood me up.” You say, words rolling off your tongue in a confusing cross between regret and hurt even when you meant for it to be a joke. A laughable comment between two friends who know how you and Eddie interact, who know he’s nothing more than a nuisance to you, nothing more than an incessant house fly that just won’t quit circling you. 

You never thought you’d be saying that in this lifetime. You never thought he’d have the opportunity to stand you up. 

You tell yourself you’re not disappointed, but the words sure do taste like it. 

You shrug your shoulders, shaking off your thoughts. “I should go, bell’s about to ring.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was during your second period math quiz. A timid, curly headed freshman knocked on the door interrupting the silence of the room. 

Mrs. Rotman stood from her desk, crossing the room, engaging in a whispered conversation with the boy. She turned to look around the room, eyes flitting over the students before landing on you. She turned back to the boy, whispered something to him and sent him on his way. 

You tried to pretend you were busy doing your quiz but it was hard with her eyes focused on you as she walked in your direction.

“Honey, your fathers in the office for you. Something about a family emergency. Don’t worry about the quiz, sweetie.” She whispered, leaning down to your level with sullen eyes that made your heart rate pick up.

“Family emergency?” You questioned anxiously. 

“Yes dear, go on and head down to the office.” She said, patting your back. 

Leaving behind your quiz that you barely had a chance to start on, you quietly let yourself out of the class. 

Speed walking down the hall, opening the door to the stairwell with enough force for the sound to echo against the cement walls and linoleum floors, you hurry to descend the stairs. With your mind busy, rifling through what potential family emergency would bring your father back to town, you didn’t even notice him standing by the stairwell exit until you stepped down onto the landing. 

There’s a moment before he looks at you. A moment where your heart beats faster. A moment where you’re flooded with scary feelings. A moment were you remember last night. And a moment were you remember this morning.

“Oh for god's sake.” You groan, leaving that moment behind, churning everything into a genuine annoyance because you fell for such a stupid trick. 

“Princess, funny seeing you here. Daddy’s been waiting.” Eddie says, smirk plastered on his face, waiting with his back against the wall, trying to exude some sort of coolness that he doesn’t possess. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You spit, burning hot from the inside out. Eddie deflates in front of you, smirk dropping as he steps away from the wall towards you.

“No?” He says, almost like he’s asking you. 

“Why the fuck would you think this was okay?” You sneer, voice raising in volume. He shrinks further.

“Just wanted to see you.” He shrugs, eyes falling to the ground.

If he 'wanted to see you', he wouldn’t have stood you up. 

“You wanted to see me?” You scoff bewilderedly.

“Yeah, and apologize for this morning.” He says, eyes flickering up to you.

You spin on your heels, ready to explain the situation to Mrs. Rotman and go back to finishing your quiz. You don't want to hear an apology for that.

“Shit— Princess, come back!” He calls after you. You hear feet clambering, catching up to you just as you clear the first set of stairs. His grasp captures your wrist and you get the eeriest sense of deja vu.

“Princess, c’mon, let me apologize.” He says, voice pleading as you try to tug yourself free.

“No. You can apologize to Mrs. Rotman’s math class for interrupting everyone during the quiz.” You huff, using all your weight to try and free yourself. 

“No, let me apologize to you.” He insists. You feel your heart rate pick up and in an instant you spin, startling Eddie with your fast movement. 

“Do you think this is funny, Eddie?” You spit, brows furrowed, face flushing hot in anger.

With his mouth pulled in a flat line, he shrugs. 

You know he's hardly phased by your spitfire and you step closer to up the ante. 

“No, seriously? Are you having fun, Eddie? Answer the question.” You say, burning your gaze into his. 

He doesn't indulge you in an answer, he just looks at you with round eyes. He doesn't cower, he doesn’t spit heated words back, he just remains looking at you with his stupidly big eyes. You're not even sure if his disposition is meant to soothe you, but it does and you hate it. It irons out nearly every wrinkle of anger and you hate it. 

“I know none of this matters to you, Eddie, but it matters to me.” You say, mustering up every blazing emotion you have left in you but it comes out too gentle to be anger.

“What matters to you?” He asks quietly, his face softening, eyes getting impossibly rounder. His grip on your wrist loosens as he steps closer to you. 

You press your lips closed, breathing deeply to compose yourself. Your sentiment is ambiguous, you recognize that. Whether is was purposeful or not is a mystery to even you. You wouldn't admit this matters, whatever this is between you and Eddie, never. You couldn't.

Even if you didn't leave space for ambiguity, you know what he's asking right now. Does he matter to you, does this matter to you?

“School, idiot.” You say quietly. You cover ambiguity by shutting him down and embellishing it with an insult. It's a lie, you both know it. It’s an orchestrated move at this point; he steps right, you step left.

He moves in closer to you, toe to toe, his chest less than arm's length away. His grip on your wrist slides down, stopping just before your palm, inches away from being a hand hold.

“You're only upset because I took you away from your quiz?” He asks quietly, amusement hinting in his tone. His eyes flicker to your lips.

“Yes.” You reply flatly. You lick your lips instinctively and you mentally scold yourself.

“No, you're not.” He laughs softly, eyes only watching your lips now. “You're really that desperate to finish a math quiz?” He asks, amusement becoming forthright.

He does think this is funny and it makes your blood boil. 

“Stop doing that.” You sneer but it comes out weak.

“Stop doing what?” He asks, eyes still unmeeting of yours.

His overconfidence and arrogance buzzes around in your head, spurring on your anger. You feel cornered by him calling your bluff and nothing good has ever come from that, especially when your heart is beating so fast you can't hear your own thoughts.

“Assuming you know me, Eddie. You don’t.” You snap, hammering your words into him like nails in a coffin, punctuating your words with a tug of your wrist but his grasp hardens, not letting you go.

He finally looks up at you, eyes meeting your gaze and you can tell your words stung by the mirrored reflection of hurt. He looks taken aback. Whatever he thought was about to happen, you pulled it out from under him like a mean trick and hurt switches to anger.

“So you’re really only upset because you’re here?” He scoffs, brows pinching.

“I just fucking said that.” You spit back.

“And you’re not at all upset because I didn’t pick you up this morning?” And that's all he has to say to send you into a flighty panic. You won't look truth in the eye, you can't.

“Eddie. Let go.” You seethe, tugging your wrist harshly. You bring your other hand to his in an attempt to pry his fingers off. His grip isn’t enough to hurt you, it’s simply unrelenting, a desperate attempt to finish this conversation.

"Princess—" He starts but you interrupt him, not wanting to hear anymore, not wanting to give him another opportunity to throw your own feelings in your face.

"Let go." You say, your volume raising out of desperation.

“Fine. Just fucking relax for a minute, Jesus Christ.” He groans, when you start swatting at his forearm. His own annoyance rises and it pisses you off because what does he have to be annoyed about? He’s not the one that got stood up. 

“I am relaxed!” You shriek, squeezing your eyes shut and stamping your foot. 

Eyes still closed, you listen to your own voice echoing off the walls, forcing you to hear yourself. It sounds like a reverb of hurt between the two of you. Despite the meaningless message your words attempt to convey, it sounds like a slip of honesty, a slip of your true feelings and how he’s affected them. It sounds tears short of being an angered cry.

A beat passes before the echoes subside, leaving the two of you in silence.

“Princess.” Eddie whispers softly. His voice isn’t loud like yours, it doesn’t vibrate off the walls but it still echoes in your consciousness, occupying a space hugged tightly next to your heartbeat. 

You feel fingertips ghost over your cheeks, delicate in nature despite residing in the antagonistic warland that you and Eddie have fostered together. Your heart catches in your throat and you hate it. 

Your face pinches in its default anger. You ready yourself to scold him, but when you open your eyes and all you see is soft, warm brown staring back at you, it doesn’t come. You hate it. 

He closes his grasps on your face, both hands holding you gently by the jaw. Both hands.

Your wrist set free, you pull away, storming back down the stairs. He steps forward, you run away— another orchestrated move.

Hearing yourself is too much, you need air. You need somewhere where your own thoughts can't reverb like your words against cement and linoleum. You need something to get you thinking straight.

Scuffing sneakers echo behind you as you clear the staircase, cross the foyer, and push open the door to the parking lot. You expect a hand around your wrist again but it doesn’t come. 

You slow to a walk and so does he, his steps crunching on the pebble covered pavement as he trails behind you quietly.

You round the corner of the building before leaning against the wall, expectant hand held out towards Eddie.

He tentatively raises his arm, fingers grazing yours, palm just barely ghosting your own, before you smack him away.

“No you idiot, cigarette.” You say, exhaling deeply. 

He mumbles an embarrassed apology before digging through his pocket.

“Here.” He says quietly, passing over his carton of camels.

You pull one out, placing it between your lips, Eddie’s eyes watching your every move. Flickering the lighter that was tucked into the empty space of the box, you light it up, smoke pluming from the corners of your lips as you take your first drag. Eddie swallows harshly, lost in thought.

“Well?” You snap, his eyes fleeting back to yours. 

“R-right. I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up this morning, princess. I’m really really sorry.” He says softly, strumming the chords of your heart with his words. You hate it.

“Why should you be sorry about that, I didn’t want you to anyways.” You say, trying to sound indifferent. You don’t though. You hear your own voice just like you did in the stairwell and you sound like a little kid who hasn’t quite mastered the art of fibbing. It’s a jejune lie, not even a good one.

“I said I would though, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” He says, round eyes set on you.

The sun glimmers against his hair making the wavy brown strands look golden, a perfect match to the gold in the eyes staring at you right now.

He’s genuinely sorry, you believe him, and you hate it.

Continuing on your juvenile streak, you pocket his lighter before handing back his carton. You know he sees you do it but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Whatever, Eddie.” You mumble, taking a drag from your cigarette. 

You let your head fall against the brick behind you, eyes scanning thoughtlessly over the surrounding thick tree line. Eddie takes a step, his shoulder hitting the wall as he leans against it, still facing you. 

“Don't you wanna know where I was?” He asks carefully, a testing tease lingering around his words.

“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway.” You retort, folding your arms over your chest, your burning cigarette skillfully held out to not get ash on yourself. Eddie exhales a light laugh before leaning into you. 

“Well, princess.” He starts, leaning in even closer. “I accidentally slept in because I was too busy staying up all night thinking about this girl who gave me the best head of my life.”

“Gross.” You scoff, hiding your smile by taking another drag.

“Fuck yeah. It was certified sloppy toppy. I think I was reborn yesterday, died and got as close to heaven as I ever will.” He says, body twisting so his head knocks against the brick wall dramatically. 

“Now you're just sucking up.” You grimace, taking another drag.

He laughs softly before the both of you fall into a quiet lull. You partially expected him to make some kind of joke out of ‘sucking up’ but he doesn’t. Only the sound of trees blowing in the wind can be heard, along with scattered chirps of birds in the distance.

“Are you still mad at me?” He asks, breaking the silence. You let your eyes flicker to him before focusing back on your barely burnt cigarette. You drop it, stomping it out under your shoe. It was a waste of a cigarette, but Eddie doesn’t say anything.

“I wasn’t mad at you.” You reply, facing towards the tree line again. 

“Okay, princess.” He sings, clearly not believing you. “But everything aside… we’re good?” He asks, watching you carefully.

“Eddie.” You exhale. That’s a big thing for him to ask of you and he doesn’t even realize it. How can you say that everything between the two of you is good when… What even is there between the two of you? Are you even friends? It's another truth you're not willing to face.

“Princess, tell me we’re okay or else you’ll keep me up another night.” He says, slouching his shoulders. 

“You’re being dramatic.” You laugh. He steps closer to you, hand raising and grasping a piece of your hair. You watch in your periphery as he swirls it between his fingers.

“I’ll never get another wink of sleep, I’m begging you. Tell me we’re okay or tell me how to fix it.” He says, tiptoeing even closer to you.

“Eddie.” You laugh again, shaking your head. The hair between his fingers falls but he’s quick to reach for the strands that fell into your face, skillfully tucking it behind your ear.

“All I’m asking for is your forgiveness. What d’you say, angel?” He whispers. You turn your head, looking at him skeptically with raised brows. 

“Angel? I think that’s hardly a fitting name.” You scoff.

“Trust me, it’s fitting. After last night.” He says, hand retreating from you to grab his heart dramatically, throwing his body back against the brick wall in a swoon. 

“Suck up.” You say trying to hide your amusement. You watch him as he continues his antics, biting your lip to hide your smile. 

He turns to you, looking up through his lashes, feigning a faux innocence.

“So what d’ya say, princess?" He questions, quirking a brow at you. "Want me to kiss it better?” He asks with a deep grin, eyes amusedly awaiting your response. 

You pause, not necessarily thinking about his offer but more so distracted by the way the sun reflects off of his eyes making them glow golden again.

He takes your pause as a yes, stepping into you, hands grabbing behind your ears, cradling your neck. He presses sloppy kisses all over your cheeks and up to your forehead, all while you protest through giggles. It’s sickeningly sweet. Truly sickening. You hate it.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Why’d you ask my friends where I was yesterday, princess? Are you, like, obsessed with me?” Eddie mocks into your ear startling you.

“Oh no.” You groan to yourself, flashing Nancy a preemptive apologetic look. 

“Princess, d’ya happen to have a lighter? Mine seems to have gone missing.” He says, moving on from his original remark, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 

“No, sorry. I don’t smoke, it’s a dirty habit.” You say flatly, keeping your focus on your lunch and Nancy sitting across from you.

“Oh, that’s crazy I could have sworn I saw you hanging out in the back of the school with some guy smoking earlier? I must have been mistaken.” He says, arm wrapping around your shoulder as he throws one leg over the cafeteria bench, straddling it. 

“We weren’t ‘hanging out’.” You scoff.

“Right, right. I was groveling, my bad, princess.” He laughs. 

You look up at Nancy and she’s shaking her head, lips pursed tightly, holding back her ‘I-told-you-so’ smile. Eddie doesn't typically bother you at lunch, so to Nancy, this very much looks like him 'getting worse'.

“Eddie, don't you have somewhere else to sit?” You say, shrugging his arm off your shoulder. 

“What? Can’t come have lunch with my girl?” He teases, scooting closer to you, his knee pushing against your thigh, your shoulder practically resting against his chest. 

“I just barely forgot about the stunt you pulled earlier, you’re pushing your luck, Munson.” You warn.

“Don’t call me that.” He says flatly.

“Munson? That’s your name, isn’t it?” You laugh.

“Nope, not to you it isn’t.” He replies flatly, grabbing a grape off your lunch tray before you can stop him. 

“Is there a reason you’re here?” You say, his arrogance pinching at your agitation.

“Lighter.” He sings, eyes sparkling with amusement meeting yours, stealing another grape in the process. Turning his head, he focuses on Nancy. “Wheeler, how’s it going?”

“Good.” She laughs, still shaking her head. 

“Heard you tattled on me to Princess.” He says, eyebrows raised, a smile playing on his face.

“Eddie, leave her alone.” You huff. You feel his hand raise up your back, settling slowly, before rubbing back and forth. He leans in closer to you, face brushing against your hair.

“Gotta share the attention sometimes, princess.” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles the shell of your ear and you feel your heart rate pick up.

You sit up straighter, Eddie’s chin knocking into your shoulder as you reach into your front pants pocket.

“Lighter. There. Leave.” You say, finding his free hand to push it into his hold. 

“Good girl.” He teases, quickly pulling you closer to him with a hand on your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You feel yourself burning hot and it takes everything in you not to hit him back with some sort of insult but you know if you do he’ll just stick around for longer. 

He gets up from the bench with a coy wave of his fingers and a polite nod to Nancy, disappearing into the crowd of the lunch room.

“Nancy, if you say ‘I told you so’, I swear to god.” You say, holding back your smile as you watch your friend’s eyes burst with amusement. 

“I wasn’t going to say I told you so!” She laughs. 

“I can see it in your eyes Nancy, I know you’re dying to say it.” You reply.

“I won’t say it… but I will say that you’re blushing pretty hard right now.”

“Out of embarrassment! That was embarrassing, Nancy.”

“People aren’t usually that smiley after being embarrassed.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Eddie kept his eyes on the prize all night. Not in a creepy way, just to make sure you were okay… and because he just liked looking at you. You were making it awfully hard though, the way you kept disappearing between the groups of people occupying Harrington’s infamous Saturday night party. 

His goal was to sell what he needed to sell, then he could have his fun. So when he sold his last eighth, his heart rate picked up as he bounded through the waves of people to find you. 

He would be lying if he said he didn’t get a pang of nerves when he finally found you, all alone in the kitchen, getting yourself a drink. 

Steve decided late Friday night that the party was on. He called you up and from there you called Nancy. It’s a practiced drill at this point, Steve calls a few people, who call a few more people, and the word gets around pretty quickly. Eddie got news that night, and it was a given he would sell. He always sells at Harrington parties, similar to how you’re always drinking at them. 

“All your friends scurry off on you, Princess?” An all too familiar voice says right into your ear.

“No.” You say flatly, turning to see Eddie at your side. 

“That’s funny, I only see you.” He says, eyes teasingly looking around you before settling back to meet your gaze.

“You should get your eyes checked, there’s like 20 other people in here.” You say, motioning to all the other bodies occupying the room. 

“You know what I mean.” Eddie says, hip bumping yours gently as you pour from a bottle of something highly alcoholic into your cup. 

“Do I?” You laugh before quickly shooting back your drink. 

“Look at her, she’s a professional.” Eddie teases as you scrunch your face through the burning sensation in your throat, some of the liquid spilling down the corners of your lips from your overzealous tilt of the cup. Without as much as a second though, Eddie’s hand raises to you, wiping your chin dry. 

“Why are you so nice now?” You ask, leaning closer to him so he can hear you over the music. 

“I’m not.” He smiles, eyes leaving yours to watch as you set the empty cup down on the counter. He knows he’s lying, you both do. 

“Is it because I sucked your dick?” You giggle.

You take another step closer to him where he leans against the counter. His eyes meet yours again with a mixture of amusement and shock looming on the surface of his gaze.

“You’re more drunk than you look, princess” He holds your gaze, amusement taking the reigns until his eyes lower to the short distance you’ve created between the two of you. 

“I’m not drunk.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. Eddie watches you, you can tell he’s smiling and you’re not even looking at him. 

“Where’s Wheeler gone? You were with her all night.” He asks, changing the subject. You turn your head, meeting his gaze, lifting your eyebrows as you decipher his question. 

“You were watching me all night?” You ask teasingly, a smile playing on your lips. 

“Princess.” He exhales, rolling his own eyes jokingly. The way his little nickname for you rolls off his tongue makes your already dizzy head spin. 

“She went upstairs with Steve.” You answer, letting your hand rest on the counter, pinky brushing the material of his jeans where he leans against the marble countertop. 

“I hope she’s not as drunk as you are.” He replies, eyes on your fingers as you continue to brush them against him. You shake your head. You could tell him that their rendezvous was premeditated, and a recurring pattern between the two, but you don’t want to talk about them. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest? First you took care of me when I was sick, now you’re looking out for my friends. Such a sweet boy.” You coo, leaning into Eddie, removing your hand from the countertop and placing it flat on his chest to stabilize yourself. 

“Baby, I think you're too drunk, look at you being sweet.” He laughs and you dip your head, hiding the way his words affect you. You’re always ‘princess’, never ‘baby’. It makes your heart beat faster and your skin prickle.

You can’t help but notice how he doesn’t touch you though. He’s always poking and prodding at you in one way or another. Last time you saw him, he was all hands and kisses to your cheeks, but now, nothing.

“Did you make a lot of money tonight?” You ask, stepping in closer to him, your thigh pressing into his as you stand beside him.

“I did good enough.” He shrugs, arms staying closely to his sides and it almost makes you want to pout. He should be grabbing your hand or twirling your hair, doing what he always does. 

“You were busy all night.” You mumble, your head down, watching as you kick at his shoe before stepping over it with one foot. Still leaning against the counter, he shifts, arms moving at his side and you almost get excited before you realize he's just crossing them over his chest. You lower your hand, sitting it closer to his hip as you move to stand directly in front of him. 

“You were watching me all night?” He mocks, copying your same lilt.

“I set myself up for that one didn’t I?” You whisper, head down. He’s still not touching you.

“You did.” He replies, exhaling a laugh. You rest your other hand on his crossed arms, hoping he’ll get the hint but he doesn’t and you sigh, slouching into yourself. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” He asks, quietly.

“You.” You reply flatly. 

“Yeah, but you’re all pouty. You don’t pout. You scowl. Yell. Threaten violence.” He teases gently, dipping his face enough to meet your gaze. 

“You’re not touching me.” You mumble, words so quiet you can barely hear them yourself over the blaring music.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, leaning his ear closer to you. You step in closer to him, pushing your way between his legs.

“I said, you’re not touching me.” You grumble, annoyed that you have to repeat yourself. Even more annoyed when he hears you and still doesn’t touch you. You huff, pushing your body flat against his, but he stops you, hands on your shoulders holding you away from him.

“Princess, I can’t. You’re drunk.” He says firmly, serious eyes meeting yours. Your knee shakes as you try to stop yourself from stomping your foot. 

“You can. You just want to piss me off.” You say, funnelling all of your emotions and forcing them into a short lived anger. 

“Trust me, that’s not why.” He says softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your shoulders. You happily focus on his simple caresses on your bare skin, but the feeling it gives you just leaves you wanting more.

“You're touching me right now, Eddie. Just keep doing that.” You whine, giving him your best pout paired with doe-eyes. His gaze soften, eyes fluttering over your features.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He says, flashing you a small smile.

“You like it though, that’s why you keep coming back.” You whisper. Eddie’s mouth pulls in a flat line and you think you might have said something wrong. His grip on your shoulders falls and you’re sure you did.

You’re sure you did until you feel his hands meet your waist, pulling you towards him. Your hands slip up his chest and around his neck and you hug yourself to him tightly. You absorb every ounce of him you can, every inebriated sense of yours captivated and buzzing with feelings and flutters. Even through the thump of the bass vibrating throughout the kitchen, you swear you hear his heart, or maybe it’s yours, either way it doesn’t matter because Eddie Munson is holding you just like you wanted him to. 

“I was waiting for you to come find me.” You whisper into the skin peeking out of the collar of his shirt as you press your head to his shoulder.  

In the bustling of the party, you stand chest to chest, arms wrapped around each other like this was the only way things were meant to be. He responds to you through the movement of his hands, rubbing up and down your back, touching you, just like you asked. Soothing you like you didn’t know he could. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Eddie, you’re not doing it right, you’re supposed to just come in. I’m not supposed to have to ask you.” You whine. 

“Princess, I can’t.” He says, smiling as you try to tug him through the front door of your house. 

“You can, you did it before, remember?” You say, giving him your best pout.

“You were sick.” He says, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he stands firmly outside, your tugs not making him budge in the slightest. 

“I'm going to be sick right now, if you don’t come inside.” You whine, punctuating your words with little stomps of your feet.

You may have taken a few more shots after Eddie broke up your hug earlier. You knew you had him at that point so maybe you took them just to spite him. It made sense at the time and as the night progressed, you were right. He was by your side the whole time, never more than an arm's length away. And when it was time to go home, you didn’t even have to ask, he was already offering you a ride and guiding you to his van.

“Princess, you’re killing me.” He says exasperatedly through a smile before stepping into the doorway. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Jesus, just drink the water, princess.” Eddie laughs. 

“I’ll do it if you lay down with me.” You say stubbornly. He shakes his head and you drop yourself down onto your pillow. “Please, Eddie. Please.” You plead, your eyes catching the dizzy image of him in the lowlight of your room.

“Drink the water and I’ll think about it.” He says sternly.

“Lay down and I’ll think about it.” You mock, copying his tone.

“You are so…” He laughs, trailing off.

“Good at giving blowjobs?” You giggle, filling in his sentiment. His gaze drops to the floor as he sits on the edge of your bed, shaking his head in disbelief of the moment. 

“I was gonna say ‘impossible’.” He corrects with a laugh. 

You furrow your brows. In attempts to prove him wrong you sit up, taking the water from him and silently finish it small swallow by small swallow until your belly feels impossibly full of water. 

“Done.” You huff, falling back to your pillow dramatically. 

“Good.” He says, hand patting your calf that’s sprawled against the comforter next to him. 

“No. Good girl.” You say, correcting him through giggles. He squeezes your calf, before sitting up enough to put the glass down on your bedside table. 

“Good girl.” He says to appease you, smirk heavy in his features. 

“Was I good enough for you to lay down?” You ask, flashing him innocent eyes. He exhales deeply and even in your spinning state, you know he’s weighing his options. His eyes track the span of the bed before looking back at you, seriousness written across his features.

“No funny business.” He says firmly, making sure to make eye contact so you know he’s serious.

“No funny business.” You agree, nodding your head waiting for him to give in. 

“Only for a few minutes. Sober you wouldn’t want me here.” He says, removing his jacket and tossing it to the floor.

“Yes she would.” You mumble with a pout but quickly get excited when Eddie starts shuffling to lay down. You prop yourself up ready to cozy into him but he stops you.

“Nuh-uh. On your side of the bed, princess.” He says, motioning for you to lay back down. You throw yourself to the mattress with a whined cry. 

“You’re no fun.” You huff, whine building in your chest.

“I’m not here to have fun, princess. This is serious business.” He laughs. 

You continue pouting on your side of the bed, turning enough to watch as Eddie settles into your mattress. His hair sprawls over your pillow, just like before, his throat bobbing as he swallows before turning his head to you.

“Go to sleep.” He says and your jaw drops. His lips curl into a smile, eyes dancing in amusement. 

“You’re mean, you couldn’t even say goodnight? Just go to sleep?” You shrill, trying to focus your gaze on Eddie to get your glare across. 

“Go to sleep.” He repeats, smirking as he reaches his arm to your bedside table, switching the light off, leaving you both in the low glow of the moonlight that sweeps in through your half open curtains. 

“Eddie, I can’t unless you say it nicely.” You argue.

“Princess. Please go to sleep.” He says with teasing lilt.

“No.” You giggle.

“I said it nicely, c’mon princess.” He groans.

“Eddie.” You whine, hearing the annoyance in his voice.

“Princess.” He mocks.

You scan your eyes over him, the low light helping you find where his hand lays at his side. Quietly, you tiptoe your fingers across the mattress until you brush against his hand. Before you can close your grasp, he rips it away with a tut. 

“Eddie, I held your hand when you wanted me to.” You whine.

“That was different.” He replies.

“No it wasn’t! Just hold my hand.” You say, pushing yourself up to try and grab his hand where it lies on his stomach now.

“Lay back down.” He laughs pulling himself further away from you. You drop yourself to the bed, your bottom lip quivering. It’s not for dramatics though, you know Eddie wouldn’t be able to see it.

“No. I’m tired of doing this, I just want you to hold my hand.” You whisper back. Eddie says some kind of teasing response but you ignore it, feeling too lost in the spinning of your head. 

In your current state, you feel a lot of things. Most importantly, you’re confused. These nights usually end with Nancy and Steve. Eddie's existence would have never even crossed your mind, but now, all you want is to be close to him. It doesn’t help that he’s been making you practically beg for his attention all night. It might seem sudden, but it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you feel your eyes grow wet. Your breathing starts to come out in harsh whines from your stomach that get caught in your throat.

When the first tear falls it feels catastrophic. It feels destructive, disastrous even. It feels like a break in your guard and you aren’t quick enough to catch it. There’s no snark left in the world that could patch this up right now. So you hide.

Pushing your face into your pillow, your tears free fall.

You feel shifting on the bed and you push your face further into the pillow.

“Are you crying?” Eddie asks softly, sounding closer to you now.

You don’t offer a response, your throat feels too tight to speak. You feel like you’re drowning in more than just tears.

“Princess, don’t cry.” He replies gently, all teasing gone from his voice. “I’ll hold your hand, here.” He finds your hand, taking it in his but it’s too late. The floodgates are open, set on their path of destruction, open to exposing damage.

His hand wraps around yours and you feel small. Not because of the size difference but because there’s a reason you don’t show these feelings. There’s a reason it’s easier for you to scowl and yell. This side feels too bare, too soft, too uncomfortable. It’s unfamiliar and scary. It feels like offering yourself up to impending disappointment. It feels like waiting for someone to pick you up and they don’t. 

He pulls your hair, you pull his back. He stands you up, what can you do besides pretend it didn’t hurt?

You should yell, you should scold, you should threaten violence. You should tear your hand away, kick him out.

But you don’t. You couldn’t, not anymore. Not right now.

You just want Eddie, all games aside. You want him in the silence of the night, not through the bass of the music where one of you has to move left while the other moves right. You don’t want to dance the line of whatever this is anymore. 

You pull his hand, willing him to come closer, a silent plea through your tears, and he does. He shifts closer until you're pressed to him, your intertwined hands hugged between your chests as his other hand wraps around you, resting against your back. He soothes you with quiet promises of everything being okay intermixed with his own apologies that only make you cry harder. 

Maybe you’re not the whole reason that you two have ended up here, but you’re half of it, and it takes two to play this game. If you tap out, you’re half of the way to it being over.

If you walk away and he follows, isn’t that just the game changing again? A game of cat and mouse?

Maybe all these metaphors are stupid. Maybe they’re all a figment of your imagination that blossomed as a child from the first time he pulled your hair. Maybe you’re too old for these playground antics. Maybe you’re too old to not say how you feel. 

“I was sad when you didn’t come to pick me up.” You whisper, your sob-filled secret sailing into the darkness of the room as if his chest wasn’t there to catch your secret. 

Your words are as much for you as they are for him, you couldn’t admit your hurt before, but now you do. 

Truth tastes soft in your mouth, not at all like the burn of alcohol you’ve drowned yourself in. It’s not sweet, it doesn’t fix everything, it just creates a storm in your belly. A fight between everything you know, everything you’ve done, and something new. It’s unnatural, it makes you feel sick. 

“I know, princess. I’m sorry.” He whispers in return, his hand rubbing against your back. You imagine with every pass of his hand on your back he’s helping you fight the furries of the storm rising inside of you, but with the storm rising, there is nowhere else for these feelings to go but up. 

“I don’t want you to say sorry, I just don’t want you to do it again.” You cry.

Your throat constricts as you feel bile rising. 

“I won’t. I promise, okay?” He says softly. His words would have eased every metaphorical storm inside you, but this storm has turned literal, you’re about to vomit.

“Eddie, I'm gonna be sick.”

It’s a rush of limbs and a dash down the hall. Everything pours from you, every uncried tear, every burn, every furry, every roar of the storm. Everything you know, everything you’ve done, it all leaves you. And in its wake all you have left is Eddie’s hand rubbing your back, telling you it’s okay. It’s soft and unnatural but you let it absorb you entirely. It burrows into you, finding a place you never knew existed, a place where softness thrives and doesn’t need to be hidden by the guise of anger and indifference.

Eddie brings you back to your bed and in the silence of the night, apologies and promises lay side by side, holding hands. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[kazehita]

hi! i noticed your recent post recommending the fic natural satellite and i think i've noticed other isat fics around your blog too. because of that, i was wondering if you had a list of recommended isat fics! i will admit i am not someone who just peruses around on ao3 but i love reading about these characters so if you have any recs, i would greatly appreciate them! thanks and i hope you have a lovely day :3

I love ALL isat fic - each and every one is so special and wonderful - but if I listed the whole archive that wouldn't really help huh... So! Im going to list just some off the top of my head., this is in no way definitive. Isat spoilers ahead - get all the way through the game and the secret before proceeding.

Big recommendation list below:

Additionally, mind the tags for each fic - I wont be specifying the content warnings here.

(don't just read the complete ones!!! Incomplete fic is just as delightful I promise :3)

Complete: Bloom - Level99Eevee Most people know it, it sits at the top of the tag! It's my every wish fulfilled for post-cannon moments.

Memories of defeat - dirtbagtrashcat Stuff in and immediately after the loops, fantastic extrapolations!!!! Very much Loop <33 I find this very grounded and realistic!!!!

Emotion Sickness - dirtbagtrashcat Post cannon fun/trauma with siffrin and the gang.

Memories of Touch - dirtbagtrashcat look i just really like their work sjkdjkfjkasdf its all good go through their profile. This is Isa thoughts.

And if I were not myself, would this be easier? - rabbit_soup Post-game! I love how they flesh out the world.

The Understudy - kittyorange Suuuuch a loop fic I love it to bits. Post cannon loop and the gang stuff.

Star-Speckled Skin - Lora_Blackmane Funn angsty moment, title is very descriptive. Lives in my head rent free.

Clinging to dying embers - Coffeewolf67 Odile's perspective of sif using the dagger. appropriate content warnings apply :)

between the end and a new start - glowingjellyfishtreelights SICKFICCC I had a very funny experience with this one where due to memory mishaps I got to read it for the first time twice! Absolute banger.

What's in a name? - Raaj Explores siffrins love of plays. I have to regularly reread this for my brain to function.

Starstruck - Dusk_Illusionist Isa yearns. The fic. It rocks.

Saturn Devouring His Son (Time Choking on Stone Choking on Blood)- BasilPaste Post cannon moment... I like it...

(Why) you can't let them know by Mayasynth sasasap fic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i like it. i hold it. i like it. UGH theres more but I have already listed so many.. my other favorites... im so sorry.,.. i love you guys too... Incomplete:

How To Rest by rabbit_soup Sequel to "And if i were not myself, would this be easier?" Loop is here and I love violence.

TRY IT AGAIN, CHEATER! by discatded "[Loop returns to their own universe after everything. It's hard.]" - from the summary. Love it love it. I will never get enough of this premise.

To Extend our Reach to the Stars Above by Cinnamin_Is_a_Star "Sif if he was team rocket" and is so fun. Very excited to see this one pan out!

until we move on. by Anonymous (also known as lozy) LOOP MY BELOVED..! loop returns to their universe and promptly looses it like the universe intended. Cant get enough of it.

Natural Satellite by dirtbagtrashcat If a single fic makes me the Most insane its natural satellite if I'm honest.... like bro... It just gets right to me...

Sunder by Miranda_tries_their_best Post-cannon Loop fic!! They travel on their own for a bit (but not forever), and I love it dearly.

Face the Light by Kaimiiru Post-game, I hold it close to my heart.... Ah... It's so dear to me.

These next two are sloop so if that's not your thing you have been warned :]

raconte-moi qu’on puisse crier tout bas by bibliomaniac I'm holding this high above my head so everyone can see it the characterization is off the charts.

To Cut You Open With a Knife and Find Your Sacred Heart by Hexea_Art Changeling Loop fic!! What a fun concept. I am excited to see where it goes. yay! AGAIN... THERE ARE SO MANY I LOVE SO MUCH but im forcing myself not to look through the tag else I'd add everything. Honestly, I do recommend just launching right on into the ao3 tag for ISAT even if you aren't super familiar with ao3. Just be sure to filter out anything you don't want to see!

Consider this a good starting point ^^

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 6- Do You Believe in Soulmates?

Hello and welcome to day 6 of fictober. I hope you enjoy a little semi spooky blurb from us...

FICTOBER Prompt list and masterlist

Patreon

WC-1.2k

Warnings- wolves

-----

“Do you believe in soulmates?” The words floated on the warm night air to Y/N’s ears. She laid beside him on the blanket, looking up stars. It was the third night in a row that they’d continued their stargazing, Harry arriving to her home and promising to have her back safe and sound to her roommate before driving over to the lookout point over the lake. 

Y/N was new to town, looking for a new beginning, and Harry had found her on her worst day. Only 2 months in, she had been burnt out. Tirelessly writing her book at night and working at the cafe during the day for just enough for her rent, bills and some food here and there. If she didn’t get her free meals at the cafe, she knew she would be in an even worse spot- but she had left a place that had been dulling her life, keeping her tied and rooted with no place to grow. Leaving had been the best option. 

The lake town was tucked into the foothills of the mountains, A nice summer tourist population and a small, tight knit group of locals she was trying to find her place in. The weave was strong and the things seemed to be established, so she was trying to find a nice spot in between to settle- but her hanging out with Harry had made some waves. His family was a long time legacy, basically built the town up. He wasn’t much of a socializing type besides his small, even tighter group of friends, so when he was seen walking around with the new girl in town? It had spread like wildfire. It never ceased to amaze her how fast small towns spread gossip to the trees to set the rumor mill ablaze. 

She had been informed that Harry didn’t date around, he didn’t sleep around despite people being more than obvious in their interest. A coworker had divulged that she knew his family was apparently part of some sort of exclusive group with a share of other families in town and the surrounding era. It was all hush hush, but Y/N knew that it wasn’t her business. If Harry had his secrets, it was okay. She did too. 

Like how meeting him had given her the inspiration on what to model her male character on in her book. 

“I’m a romance novel author, Harry.” She rolled her head to the side. “Of course I do. It’s the best trope there is.” She laughed, looking back up at the stars. Sometimes his stare was a bit intense and made her squirmy. He always seemed to be looking. Somehow, she didn’t mind. 

“What do you like about it?” He asked, turning over on his side a bit as she continued looking up. 

“Theres a lot. I love the idea of unconditional love, but I know that isn’t realistic. So I think I like the thought that someone is meant for me. That there isn’t something wrong with me for always feeling like something is missing in my partners thusfar. I love that whole thing. Feeling like you were made for someone, that they’ll just get you and how you feel… It’s always been something I wished was something for me. But I hope one day I can meet mine.” Her sigh was dreamy, smiling at the sky as Harry continued staring at her. 

“Maybe you already have.” His voice was calm, just as it normally was, his eyes on her expression as he continued. “Well.. What if being with them required sacrifices? If life wouldn’t be different?” His words were ominous but Y/N was a bit oblivious. She always had been, full of wonder and stuck in her own brain. His question was one that had her mind whirling around, colorful thoughts throwing themselves at the walls until one stuck. 

“I mean, every good love story requires sacrifice. It’s part of every single good storyline, every memorable romance.” She laughed, nudging his foot with her own. “And I suppose life is never the same after meeting anyone but especially a soul mate. Someone the stars bound to you. The cosmos and the moon, powerful things they are.” She didn’t know just how correct that was. “I’d still want to be with them, yeah. Any relationship takes work and adjustments. I think it would be more than worth it for a soul mate-”

Y/N gasped as she was interrupted by the howl of wolves off in the forest. Shivers hit her body, chills hitting her skin as the sound reverbed off the trees, the full moon in the sky seeming doubly as bright. There were trees on either side of them and her nerves shot into her stomach. It sounded so close.  Sitting up, her widened eyes met Harry’s. His body hadn’t moved, hadn’t even stiffened. Oddly, she thought he saw him relax at it. “Uh- should we go? That sounded really close, and I’m no expert but that’s probably not good.” Her nervous hand wringing was a distraction, Harry gently pulling one of them from her own grasp, urging her back down. 

“I’m not afraid. It’s okay. The wolves are misjudged. They don’t want to hurt humans.” He spoke confidently. “The humans are the ones attacking first. It’s probably different in other places but here, we respect the wolves and they leave us be.” His words were spoken as if he knew this for a fact. Y/N oddly believed him, despite knowing it was going against all logic she had. 

“Oh, alright. I always thought wolves were beautiful but I try and keep a respectable distance. You know?” She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, sitting back in her original spot as she tried to calm her heart down. The howling was moving further away, and Harry’s calmness was contagious. 

“Yes. You’re one of the smart ones. In this town, the relationship with the wildlife is different. We all respect the creatures and nature’s course.”  

“Oh!” Y/N gasped. “So that’s part of why there was a questionnaire everyone filled out while filing their documents at town hall, then. Wanting to make sure people knew that. Smart. I don’t know why people wouldn’t accept that, though. It should be like that everywhere.” Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “And do you like them, then? The wolves?” 

She didn’t think it was that funny, but the smile that grew on his face and the little burst of laughter made her own smile tilt up the corner of her mouth. The man’s dimples were on display, teeth pearly white and crinkles by his eyes. Harry was attractive- anyone could see that- but to see him light up like that because of something she said? She felt his smile deep in her core. “Well…” He laughed through another howl. “You could say that.”

[bathroomtrapped]

ohmygod i literally just made an account on letterboxd bc i watched saw (2004) and loved it so much and ur interview was so inspiring to me and ive been on an absolute craze trying to reblog like every single saw post on tumblr and i somehow found your account what the heck?!!?!?! ur art is AMAZING and i absolutely love ur takes on saw as a franchise and its significance to the queer community. i hope to be as knowledgeable of this franchise as you are one day despite me only being a baby saw fan!!

i had a quick question; i found on the saw heritage post blog that they thought leigh/james/someone else confirmed that saw (2004) did not actually occur the day before 9/11 despite the phone given to them being set to that date. however, when i asked them if they knew where this source was from (bc im so curious!!! i want to know everything!!!!!!) but neither they nor i could find the actual source for that so i was wondering if maybe u knew??? just curious :3

regardless ty for taking the time to read this and dedicating so much time to this fandom!! i love that horror fans like you exist in a fandom that i previously thought would be weird and slightly disturbed film bros (i had a lot of incorrect preconceived notions about saw that have been quickly resolved i promise)

thank you!! im glad that people feel the same way about it as i do but even if people thought i was some crazy transexual making everyone else woke and pronouns, i wouldnt care. the story, especially lawrences but adams as well, really resonates with me as a trans person for so so many reasons, more than i listed in the interview. to me, i cant read his character without filling in the gaps with trans subtext. it not only explains but also enriches the personal experiences of these characters as well as their dynamics with each other. theyre both characters that are defined primarily by how theyre seen by other people, themselves, and eventually each other. the narrative is soooo focused on perception and masks and who u truly are, i find it hard to separate any kind of queer theory from that.

as for the 9/11 question thats such a dumbass pet peeve of mine. its one of the things that makes me shout UMMMM ACTUALLY at the top of my lungs. my blood pressure sours to inhuman levels when someone confidently says the movie takes place not just in 2001 but the day before 9/11. not because of some interview or confirmation from any of the crew because my knowledge of old fandom history is incredibly spotty. old sites and interviews r a mystery to me for the most part BUT! the reason it is for sure not before 9/11 is because during the flashback of pauls trap (during lawrences monologue about jigsaw) kerry tapp and sing are all at the scene with other officers and i believe its kerry who holds up an evidence bag thats labeled 2004. the scene takes place 5 months before the events of saw 1 so its not possible that it takes place 3 years before that. it just seemed like a funny (but insanely bold considering how 9/11 was only 3 years before) joke and easter egg for people to catch on to, not actual lore meant to be taken seriously.

if u want to look for the interview, i would honestly just listen to the commentary tracks bc it mightve been said there. i know in the one with leigh, james, and cary they discuss plot holes fans complained about, questions fans had online, the fanfic they read (briefly LOL). ive only seen that one (and once) but theres at least 2 other commentary tracks with different people that i havent gotten around to for fear of like. completing saw? idk i cant bring myself to watch all of the commentary tracks but theres a chance they discuss it there! i can only speculate on the reason, all i know is that saw 2004 takes place in 2004 based on actual evidence from the media itself

if u have any other questions let me know. i still have the original draft of the interview which had more questions and longer responses bc i couldve gone on for days abt the lore and saw queer theory and ill never shut up about it

[my-castles-crumbling]

hi cas, reg kin anon back

so, ive looked into it a little but i couldnt find any information online about whether my uni could offer free counselling/support when i get there, so its something i think ill just have to ask about once i actually get there.

which... is in three days. i move out on wednesday 11th, and its absolutely terrifying how soon that is. i feel so underprepared and i hate feeling like that because im the type of person to have multiple backup plans, i always check ahead of time about everything, i was that kid who used to make sure they knew everything they needed to if they got in a car accident or whatever. i was *prepared*, and now suddenly im moving out in three days and havent a clue what im doing.

its also so overwhelming trying to do anything. ive tried making lists to help but even that isnt working, and im so afraid i wont be prepared to go. i dont understand how anyone can be okay with anything anymore. i honestly cant believe i ever wished so badly to be an adult because its the most stressful, frustrating, and terrifying thing ever — and ive not even hit the tip of the iceberg yet, im well aware.

so far ive packed dry foods i bought beforehand (because ive no fucking clue where the food shops are where im moving, or how far they will be, or how easy itll be to trnasport shopping etc, so i figured it would be easier to bring anything i could so that id be set for a day or two at least), and thats about it. i cant pack clothes until the day before, and i cant pack toiletries until just before since ill still be using them, and im not packing all the stuff i bought in earlier asks (bedding, towels etc) until im packing clothes, because right now *theyre* all in my suitcase and theres no point taking them out and taking up more space with them until the clothes need to go in instead. i need to pack my plates and cups and such but i dont have any boxes and my father was supposed to get me some but hes done fuck all this past week and its really stressing me out.

is moving always this stressful or am i just overthinking everything? i feel like i never feel correctly about anything in life (ive had severe anxiety for longer than i can remember which really doesnt help) so i cant tell if im just being dramatic about it or if its actually normal to be so stressed about something that everyone does. would it be easier or more difficult without my mother's diagnosis? i dont know that she'd have helped much anyway, honestly, but still i cant help wondering. do people in normal families find it this difficult or is it calmer?

Hi!!!

Well by the time you read this you'll have moved!

Honestly, there's no real way to be completely prepared. You're gonna forget something, something will go wrong, and part of adulthood is just knowing that things go wrong and it's okay. It'll be okay, and you can figure it out, I promise.

Would it be easier if things were normal? Probably. But moving is still stressful no matter what. I promise you, everyone is stressed about this, and everyone is going to forget something and make mistakes. The most important thing is to find people to rely on, so when you make a mistake, you have people to help, you know? Adulthood is really just calling someone up and saying "I fucked up" and then as soon as you figure it out, someone calls you and says the same.

It'll be okay <3 I'm sending so much love.

[himbos-hotline]

what'cha writing?

This ask just gives me an excuse to write more infomation about my WIPS and AUS! All of which are open for asks, I love talking about my writing and my little gremlin OC Jay and the polycule!

Till death do us part, please keep breaking my heart ['Til it ceases to beat, please be mine.]: My hungbucks fic that is currently leaning towards more romantic hangmatt and platonic hangnick. However I am currently unsure what way it is going to go. A look at the Bucks and Hangers relationship just after Hanger wins the AEW world title and Kennny disappears. Its highly implied that Kenny had a relationship with both Hanger and the Bucks because he totally did. Can you read it? Yes the first two chapters are currently up on AO3]

Writing Requests: Yes, I take writing requests! I have one that im currently working on but my requests are open so ive any of my followers or just people who see my tumblr advertised on AO3 [I sometimes mention it in my notes] and gone "damn I wish you would write X thing" drop it into my askbox and maybe I will, I mostly unsprisingly wrie for AEW/WWE at the moment and I will not write X readers but if you ever want that, I can suggest some people who do write fantastic X reader fics! Can I read it?: Yes I also post my requests on AO3 as well as my matherlist

The ghost story would be over: Taking place during and after AEW full gear where Regal betrays the BCC. I thought about how Jay would react to it as not just only as a member of the BCC but also as a Regals grandchild. A look at how close Jay and the BCC are with added connections to the Elite. Currently its a look at Jay's found family with the BCC and romance with Wheeler as well as just as how close she is with the bucks as brothers and Kenny as his beloved. A queer look at found family and betrayal with a distinct human touch. Can I read it?: Yes, please do its my favourite thing im working on so far! The first two chapters are currently on AO3

And I'll be in denyal for just a little while [What about the plans we made?]: A fic that looks at Jays canon story. From working on NXT as a mixed tag team with adam cole, to their blossoming relationship barely hidden as fuck-buddies, to betrayal and loss. Follow Jay through her transformation from Jayden Orton, still stuck behind her cousins shadow to Jay Orton, the poly genderqueer bisexual. A journey which is incredibly always linked with one beloved baybay with blue eyes. Can I read it?: Not yet, Currently I am half way through the first chapter but I promise you can soon!

Turn you on when I need you: Adam loves Kenny. Kenny doesnt love Adam. At least, not the way Adam wants him too. hes there for a quick fuck whenever Kenny is stressed. and its not like he doesnt LIKE adam, Kenny does. He just doesnt Love him..until Adam gets another boyfriend sometime later and Kenny realises that his heart longs for the cowboy. Can I read it?: Not yet, it is currently in the stages of just being an idea. Ya know spoken about in discord messages and linked in other stories.

And now for AUS!

The step-by-step franchise! Have you ever questioned about what wrestlers would be like as kids? what about as stupid middle school children? high school? college?! well now you dont have to wonder. as we're writing it! [me and my big sibling @itsnoosetome] a four part series following a collection of wwe/aew wrestlers as well as like three OCs! Can I read it?: No, at the moment its' currently being writen but theres ideas and asks are always appreciated!

The soulmate actor Au A look at Jay [OC] and their boyfriends and girlfriend through the lense of them all being soulmates. None of them wrestle. Wheeler and Jay work in a theatre, Kenny is an artist, Hanger is a western actor star and Cole is an a-list trans femme superstar who the elite happen to just use to fuck.

I love the taste of his pretty red lipstick [I love the taste of his pretty red tongue] The Stripper au! Your favourite aew stars strip for a living featuring a whole load of flirting and unresolved trauma. Lots of trans characters too! becuase we cannot be stopped! Can I read it? Eventually maybe.

What baking can do The bakery au! Mostly planned. but more non-wrestling AUS. Four chapters are planned. Follow Jay [again, look he has a fun veiw of the world] through the little bakery town that all the wrestlers live in!

[jayflrt]

for the last chapter theres so much to uncover i dont know who to add who to remove from my suspect list now i dont even want to be organized. lets start with why is yn mom still contacting yuna ?? im sure she is aware of what has gone down and everything like? if this is some kinda beef with her dad (yn) what the actual fuck. on the talk of that whats the tea. i hope anton tells the reason for her mom to sen the gift thru antons mom than herself. now the client, the whole drug test like thats insane what the actual fuck this is so? i have been trying to connect the way of them talking to anyone but its kinda hard. considering the fact that its all formal and shit. but i feel like i have to add hoon to my suspect list today. also that means if sunjin is already being appointed has the new hire why would he be digging dirt? i dont know a mess my head is. i would like to say yn mom. im so suspicious of her now. now yn dad..... what the fuck is wrong with him.

The first few names mentioned were from the Order. (Stay close to Song Eunseok—his parents are government officials; be on good terms with Ning Yizhuo—her dad owns a steel company; be friendly but don’t worry much about Shin Ryujin—her dad’s a casino owner.) He always gave you some rundown about their families, how they’d prove to be useful connections, and then you would have to just trust your father’s judgment. There was never room for you to go against his words.

it felt so bitter reading that line only even like what the hell is wrong with him. he sounds fun and shit but what the hell. no father should be doing that to their children.

Jay Park: Rebound from Sunghoon. Temporary fun. Won’t last past graduation. 

“I do,” your dad insisted with an earnest nod. “He has a bright future ahead of him, and we had a great game—though I think he could practice his swing—but just because I like him doesn’t mean he’s anything more than a friend to you.” You spluttered, outraged. “More than a—what?” “Y/N, I don’t want this to upset you, but guys like Jay might seem fun and exciting at first, but you and him are from completely different worlds. He’s not gonna mesh well in our world.” He spoke to you in a gentle yet firm voice, but there was a condescending undertone that made your skin crawl. “You don’t see it now, but you’re gonna do great things in the future, and you need to be with someone who can match your standard.”

im sorry what the fuck is wrong with him ? im so disgusted reading that. one intercation and you are coming to conclusion just like that ? these people have no moral or wtvi just so. frustrated over this im sorry he can go fuck himself for all i care for. yes so basically i have new people in my suspect list yn mom and hoon. and im having second thoughts on sunjin. he is still a bitch and i hope the worst for him regardless, what the hell. this is like math, i think i understood the topic and i do it. when i move to another question there is something knew, i thought i figured it out but i did not ? yeah thats all from me. have agood day or night love <3

theory anon

mc's parents definitely have a strange relationship 😵‍💫😵‍💫 and with anton's mom thrown in the mix too,, tbh very unfortunate that mc is receiving more attention from a friend's mom than her own mom :((

also yeah the dad 😞😞 a storyline that will definitely be dug into deeper !! but he's not exactly the saint he seemed to be when it was just his text messages between him and his daughter 🥲 PLSSS NOT MATH THATS SO FUNNY things probably feel a little scattered and disconnected rn but i promise it'll make sense later on !! <3 i hope you're having a wonderful day/night yourself love 🥰

[bonnymori]

01 | 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫... 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭?!

chapter 01 / chapter 02 / chapter 03

Word count: 1250+

Synopsis: During a particularly boring afternoon, a muscly man with a purple worm around his shoulders has made his way onto your house- literally, smashing through your window- and, subconciously, onto your life.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Fushiguro Toji x gn!Reader, theres also Gojo cat as your cat!! (2) Reader finds Toji's worm cute; i'm sorry if you don't just skip that part (3) There's some cursing but I promise next chapter won't

A/N: I have a lot of drafts and this is the most normal looking I've got... so let's post it first ehehehhsjhd- Also, I'm remaking the structure of the posts (Megumi's one-shot is updated with the very same visual as this!), hope it looks less unorganized! Thank you for reading <3

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To think you'd let such a stranger barge into your apartment- actually, you would never imagine such a comeup. But here are we.

Right in front of you there is a man. Raven locks, black shirt, white baggy pants - is that a purple... gut, intestine thing around his chest? - and a pair of imacculate ballet shoes on his feet. The dude is knocked out cold, it seems that he barely made it through your window, only to come head first against your floor tiles. Now you have drops of blood all over the floor and counter- and, a bleeding man.

You can't tell which task will be more grueling to solve.

Because you have a working brain, of course the man comes first. No matter if your window is broken, and a handfull of glass shards adorn your countertops. And now you've accidentally stepped upon one- just then you realise the man's back must be feeling like a bed of thors- or shards, over being dragged through the floor.

So you throw his arms - which you notice, has a few cuts here and there - over your shoulders, and picks him up in a one-person carry; barely, his torso is against yours and legs are dangling on the floor, this guy must weigh the double you do. It feels like you're carrying a fridge.

From your peripheral, you can see Satoru paddle to the kitchen's doorframe, probably wondering if you were preparing a meal for him or whatever.

"I'll be back in a moment, Ru." He meows a reply, dragging his mountain of fluff back to your couch- you're certain he's taking your spot, while it's still warm.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long for you to reach the bathroom, dropping the man leisurely upon your fluffy mat. Beside all the cuts, the man has already a plentiful share of permanent scars, and none are of your business, you don't care. It's like cleaning and stitching up a old doll full of tears, by the way you're able to maneuver his limbs; you're glad he's still unconscious.

But the thing around his shoulders is not.

In a blink of eye, it jumps from his shoulder to yours, attaching itself to your back and nestling upon your shoulder. When you glance down at it, it feels like a weird looking parrot.

"Hi?" You ask, it looks back at you. "Are you like, his pet or something?" It doesn't talk, just gazes at you through half lidded eyes; so you give up on short talking it, not knowing what you expected yourself. "Let's go finish my movie then!"

You join Satoru on the couch, the cat rapidly making room on your comfortable lap; and the man forgotten, snoring soundly on your bathroom.

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A sequel and half movie later, you hear a loud thud coming from the kitchen. Even though you're aware there's a strange in your house- the sudden sound still naturaly jolts you out of your seat.

"UGH- Goddamn it-" Next comes a colorful list of slurs; a sigh makes way out of your mouth.

You round the corner, pointing a accusing finger to the strange man, who's laying on your floor again. "No cussing on my house."

"Why didn't you even clean this floor, it's loaded with glass shards."

"I wanted to finish my movie afternoon before doing so. Besides, what made you smash through there," You point to the ruined window. "to here." Then, to the kitchen floor. And finally, motioning to your whole apartment.

That was a interesting question, he expected a "Who are you?" or "I'm calling the cops!" call.

"I don't need to explain you shit."

"Think of it as an retribution, since I patched you up, answer my question."

"No."

"That, or you'll pay for my window."

A sigh. "Fine. I was being chased."

"You're a criminal, then?" You questioned.

"Yes." A devilish grin made its way to his face, showing canines and stretching the small scar on the corner of his mouth.

"Alright, just don't get me involved then."

Toji is familiar to that sort of outcome. Sometimes people man up, people weaker than him. But he knows he's intimidating, and he absolutely loves to play with the attitude of those who challenge him.

Forgetting the shart carving on the sole of his feet, he walks up to you efortlessly, towering over your frame.

"Well, are you not scared to have a criminal inside your house?"

"No, I'm not defenseless. And, you're bleeding. Again."

"Shit." Toji sits down close to the wall where it's safe, twisting his leg to bring the injured foot up to his face. He easily plucks the reddened shart between thick digits, and throws it far away from him.

Meanwhile, you bring your first-aid kit up to him, setting it down near.

"Here, use this."

"..."

"I'll do it for you then." You wasted no time, reaching for the line and thread. Once everything was stitched, you wrap a bandage around his foot, then pats it finished. "What's your name?"

"Fushiguro Toji."

"I'm L/N Y/N, lost all your bite huh?" You tease.

Casually ignored. "Why do you have a first-aid kit? Most people don't have it on their houses."

"I practice muay thai, it's useful both for me and you."

"Right. Have you seen my worm?"

"Well, make yourself at home, until your feet gets better. And yeah, your worm jumped at me like those surprise music boxes, and now it's on the couch with my cat. It's been watching movies with us."

He was beyond curious, because the worm didn't have a thinking mind nor knew what even meant to watch something. Toji limped to the doorframe, eyes widening once he spotted the worm wrapped snuggly around your very fluffy cat.

"That's some cute shit."

"The worm is gross."

"I think it looks cute."

"You're batshit crazy."

You stretched your limbs. "Whatever, let's waste some more time watching TV."

Toji sat down - mind you, taking a handful of space you were not content with - once you picked up "both" animals to make room. He thinks you're weird, seeing the fact you didn't question what the hell was that giant-purple-moving worm, and for letting in a random guy inside your house. You do fight a martial art, though, but most people wouldn't have such confidence on him - a dude build like a truck.

There's some survival show playing in the background, yet he's beyond bored watching it, so he settles in questioning your questionable manners.

"How are you so chill about everything?"

"Oh well," You seemed focused on the show, surprisement showing itself once you turn to him. "I see these things in a daily basis, so it's really no big deal after a while."

"Curses?"

"Yep."

"You-"

"I'm going to clean the kitchen. Also, I ask you once the skies darken, to leave my house."

"..."

"Is there a problem?"

"I got no hideout out there."

"Suuure you don't." You sighed. "Alright, the couch is your best option; if I hear rumbles at night, or if you steal me or something, I'll be the one chasing you."

"Right, have fun cleaning the blood stained kitchen."

"The audacity." You left with a smirk, shaking your head.

Although you're weird, so far, you're also the most interesting individual Toji has come up to par with; something in this house prickles at his skin to stay. Plus, the fluffy cat laying on his lap is very cute aswell.

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[acozysoulwrites]

His favorite star

Description: She walks out to see Daryl awake at two in the morning and instead of making him talk about it they talk about stars. No warnings or spoilers.

A/N: So if anyone likes this and would wanna be a part of a tag list I’m trying to make please let me know! It would make my day. As always if you like this please like, share, or comment they always make me smile!

***

"It's nearly two in the morning, what are you doing up?"

Her voice pulls Daryl from his thoughts. Sometimes he wishes she weren't so observant. It was like her soul was always in search of his.

"Did I wake ya? M’ sorry"

Her lips curl into a soft smile. "Daryl you don't have to apologize. Is something wrong?"

She sets herself down on the porch step next to him and he feels her warmth start to sink into his. He shuffles his feet in the dirt below. Anything to distract how warm he feels right now.

"So... Why are you awake?" She asks leaning into his side.

Daryl lays his head on hers. "Just a bad dream".

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

No. In fact it was probably the last thing he wanted to talk about. He would rather admit to stealing Michonne's last peanut butter protein bar before talking about it.

"Nah... Nah I don't... I don't know what I need" He admits.

She nods and they sit in silence for a moment before he feels her wrap her arm around him, tugging at his waist from the other side. He knows it's her trying to hold him in the best way she could considering her delicateness. She was sweet like that. It didn't matter how big he was compared to her. She treated him like this soft, delicate thing that she'd never drop or crack. He wasn't used to that, not before her. To everyone else he felt like a work horse but with her, well with her he felt like this thing that maybe... just maybe... didn't need as much fixing as he once thought.

"That's okay. We can talk about the stars instead. What's your favorite one?"

Out of everything she could talk about, she chooses stars? Seriously? God he loved this girl.

Daryl looks up into the sky. The darkness in-between the stars made him wonder what was there. They couldn't be empty could they? Those spaces had to have something inside them.

"Uh.. I never really looked at em too much before now" he admits, eyeing her from the side.

She wraps the other arm around his front and he moves his arms out from under hers and rest them on top.

"So you're just now picking a favorite?"

He is so tangled up on how her body feels against his that he's already nearly forgotten her question.

"That one" he says, pointing to the biggest star just above the moon.

She lets out a little gasp and he feels her eyes on him. "Really? That's my favorite one too!".

Good... He hoped it was, he wasn't sure what it meant... but he had really hoped that it was something like that.

"You know what that means don't you?" She scratches his back gently while speaking, sending a shiver up his spine.

"No, what's it mean?"

"It means we're soulmates. They say if you like the same stars you're destined to be".

"They do?" Theres a hint of happiness in his voice, even if it weren’t true, and Daryl never really believed in soulmates, he hoped with every inch of his being that they were ‘soulmates’.

She continues to rub his back gently. "Yeah... they do"

Daryl feels her move her head slightly so he lifts his and she looks up at him. Her eyes look like stars in this dim lighting as he looks down at her. The space in between their lips suddenly reminds him of the space in between the stars.

She is smiling up at him. "You look really handsome in the moonlight. Anyone ever tell ya that?"

Daryl feels his heart skip and his throat suddenly feels like it’s closing as heat rises into his chest.

He hears her chuckle and it’s now that he realizes he’s squeezing her hand tighter.

“Are you okay?... because I feel your hands shaking" She says, bringing his hand up to her lips she kisses it a few times.

Daryl didn't even notice his hands. He was too busy being confused and scared. Confused on how someone could make him feel like this person that wasn't all shattered glass and sharp ends. Scared because he now had no idea how to live without her.

"I don't wanna lose you" Was all he could whisper.

She frowns and sits up to look at him more clearly. "You won't, I'm always gonna be here Daryl"

But they both knew that in a world like this, those promises were forever empty.

“You can’t promise things like that” Daryl murmurs, feeling his body instinctively and tiredly lean into her for support.

“I didn’t promise anything, I said I’ll always be here” she pauses to place her hand on his chest, above his heart. “Here, forever and always”.

She hears Daryl sniff and watches as his head drops a bit. Finally realizing that he’s crying. Instead of saying anything, she simply cups his face in her hands and watches as a few tears slide down his moonlit face.

“Come here” she whispers, pulling Daryl into her further. “I’m right here, I’m here now I’m not going anywhere. I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere but here”.

Daryl nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, his arms wrapping around her waist.

“Okay” he mumbles

They sit out on the porch and watch the stars for a little longer. Conversations of their past creep into the conversation and before Daryl knows what's happening he feels his eyes flutter while she messes with his hair and rubs his back.

"Wanna go to bed?" She chuckles when she feels his hand loosen grip on hers.

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Small Actions (Create Big Ripples) CC!Plat!Ranboo x GN!Reader

I've been thinking lately about this little drabble and it makes me a bit upset? Like.. I'm in this position high key but theres nothing I can do about it...

(R/R/n) stands for Ranboo's real name. Also if you're really tall.... No you're not. Shhhh. For plot purposes

You stayed away from social media as much as possible. Now, don't get me wrong, you used to love watching Youtubers play their games and happily interact with their fans.. But growing up, you never seemed to have enough money to donate when they streamed, or go to events where they were.

You had always wanted to tell them how much they've helped you through life, or shaped your personality.. Or saved you. But... They get told that every day by over hundreds of people.. So there would be no real sentiment behind it..

You'd probably just get a simple, "Aw. Happy I could help." Before turning back to their game without blinking twice.

So, you just watched silently. It hurt, you know? Wanting to thank them, or send them something to show your appreciation.. But you never seemed to be able to send it, with the thought that 'it won't really matter to them after five minutes.. You'll just be brushed over. It's pointless.'

Eventually it hurt too much to keep watching the content creators that raised you, so you just stopped and went on with your life.

It was hard, but at least you didn't have to deal with the fact that you would never be able to thank the people you watched for making your life that much better.

As time went on, while you still heard about the creators, it was just... less. Now people were non stop blabbering about these people from something called the DreamSMP?

Your sister was obsessed with it to say the least, and you always heard her mumbling about strange people like Technoblade? Or Sapnap? And apparently some people had children with inanimate objects?! Like a Samsung Fridge and a salmon?! Yeah you didn't even bother trying to understand what she was rambling about most of the times. It just spun your head in circles.

"Okay, I gotta take my mutt to the vet," Your sister and closest friend, (S/n), tilted her head towards the backseat to her dog as you sat in the passenger seat. "You think you'll be good to do the shopping for two or so hours? I'll call when I'm finished, and plus I know how you can get distracted with looking at some things."

"Yeah, I think I'll be good." You nodded slightly, going over the list in your hand of things to get for your classes, food and just some clothing for the changing seasons.

(S/n) pulled into the parking lot and looked you over briefly, "You forgot your mask didn't you?" She watched as your hands flew up to your face to feel for the fabric, but you didn't find it so you fished through the pockets of your sweater before smiling nervously at the driver. "Uuugggggggghhhh. Of course. Okay, I got a new one from the merch store that you can use, but do not damage it! I spent a whole $30 on it!"

Scoffing as you rolled your eyes, you snagged the half white and half black mask away from her, "You and your merch. Honestly, (S/n), your obsession scares me. But anyway, thanks. I won't get it damaged, I swear." You pulled the mask onto your face after giving her a smile and walked into the store as she drove off.

Sighing slightly, you walked in, sanitized your hands, and set off on your journey to find the things you needed. Surprisingly, today seemed to be a good day as you miraculously pulled the card that didn't have the busted wheel!

Humming a soft tune to yourself, you paced up and down aisles in search of (S/n)'s favourite coffee. Pausing for a moment as you scanned the shelves, you finally spotted it and made a noise of anger as you realized it was on the very top shelf. "Oh, I hate it here..." You mumbled, a phrase you had picked up from your sister who was really big on trends like that.

Grumbling to yourself, you stood on the tips of your toes, jumped up and down, even climbed the shelves a small bit, but it just seemed to brush by your fingertips every time. Apparently it had been long enough to the point where someone had wandered into the aisle as well.

"Hey... Uh.. Nice mask? You need help?" A male voice asked very hesitantly making your head turn towards him. He was t a l l and literally could tower over you if you got close enough. He had fluffy dirty blonde hair possibly? It looked a little damp so you couldn't really tell. Rain had been in the weather report, but guess it couldn't hold off long enough. Oddly enough, he was wearing dark sunglasses and the exact same mask as you?

'Maybe he's a fan of one of (S/n)'s fandoms?' You stepped back with a sheepish smile and a blush. "Oh! Yes please! Uhm.. Also, could you tell me about what these masks represent? This is my sister's... And I kinda want to make sure I'm not looking like I'm part of some gang or something."

The tall boy reached up for the coffee before pausing midway through and looking at you in surprise. "You don't know who... Oh, it's just from a Twitch Streamer.." He murmured rather softly as he got the coffee down for you.

With a cheerful "Thank you!" You placed the container in the cart. "Oh? Yeah that makes sense. My sister loves that kind of stuff. Are they... A good person?"

"I-I'd like to think so." He nodded quickly. "Are you not.. Like, a fan of content creators? Like.. Uh.. Dream or (P/F/C)?" (Past favourite creator)

"Well... I mean I used to really like (p/f/c) when I was younger. But it kind of... Saddened me, you know?"

He looked at you again and tilted his head a bit, "Saddened you? Did they do something bad?"

"No no! It's just... I try to avoid joining fandoms, even if they make me really happy while in them despite the toxicity. I really enjoy the people who create content, and I like watching them have fun... It's just.." Were you really gonna spill some personal stuff to some stranger who showed you the slightest bit of kindness? Not originally. But he kept watching you, patiently waiting for you to continue the sentence. "They'll... Never know.. How much they saved me."

"Oh.. I see. Yeah.. I've had that happen a lot. When, I watch this guy's streams," He pulled at his mask for a moment, "People always donate money and tell him how much they appreciate him for getting them through rocky times.. It's heartwarming to say the least but he does sound genuinely thankful."

"Oh that's sweet.. What does he do? Or what's he like?" You asked with a smile, although he couldn't see it, as you crouched down to get something from the sheleves. "Unless you have places to be of course!"

He looked a little surprised at first, "Ah... I got time. It's just.. Kinda nice being able to talk to people again after quarantine..." He trailed off briefly before taking something off the shelf as well and putting it in his basket, "Uh.. The streamer is a popular minecraft player. He recently hit a record during a stream and everyone lost their minds. He's a little painfully awkward at some points but he enjoys playing the games and interacting with his chat."

"Oh he sounds nice! I would definitely want to friends with someone like him!" You chuckled softly before frowning and glancing away. "Oh.. Popular.. So I'd be another comment in the flood of a chat.. Damn. I got a little excited. Oh! My bad, I'm (Y/n). Nice to meet you!" You laughed softly in an attempt to brush off the sad atmosphere you made.

"(R/r/n). But everyone just calls me Ranboo. Nice to meet you too." He sounded as if he was smiling but there was a soft sadness in his tone. "Do you not like popular streamers then?"

"No, it's just... that I had always wanted to tell them how much they've helped me through life, or shaped my personality.. Or saved me.. But... They get told that every day by over hundreds of people.. So there would be no real sentiment behind it.. I suppose it just left me feeling a bit hopeless and like a broken record of every other fan of theirs. So, I just watched silently. It hurt, you know? Wanting to thank them, or send them something to show appreciation.. But I never seemed to be able to send it, with the thought that 'it won't really matter to them after five minutes.. You'll just be brushed over. It's pointless.'.."

Ranboo seemed slightly more upset and he shifted his basket into his other hand, "I don't think it's like that at all.. I believe that streamers and creators truly cherish anyone who even interacts with their videos, and even though they know there's some people in the world who can't say anything or buy their merchandise, the creators still know that they're there. They appreciate everyone who comes along their path, whether they support them by giving them money, criticism or their attention!"

You blinked at how... Passionate your new friend was about this topic before smiling softly. "I guess... It never passed my mind.. Thank you Ranboo.. Hey, you wanna be friends and get to know each other more?"

His expression was unreadable due to the fabric covering his mouth and nose, and the glasses covering his eyes. "Oh! Sure!" He sounded quite happy, so you were guessing that you weren't being too awkward. "Here's my number, as long as you promise to never give it to anyone. Even if someone wants to get to know me, okay?"

You took out your phone and looked at him with a strange expression, but quickly nodded. 'Maybe he is just really strict about his privacy.' Once he gave you the number, you sent a quick text to him to give him your contact in return. "Great! It was wonderful meeting you, I hope we can hang out more often! After.. covid of course."

Eagerly nodding, Ranboo finished writing your contact into his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. "Oh yeah definitely! I'll see you soon, (Y/n)!"

Parting your separate ways, you looked down at the newly added contact, 🤍Ranboo🖤 (Platonic hearts), with a smile.

Maybe small actions weren't as useless as you thought...

[palbabor-writes]

OK so please consider typical Shig/reader where theres unspoken mutual attraction and they're not quite together but it's Post-kamino Shig, like IMMEDIATE post-kamino where he's still processing and incredibly vulnerable from just losing his sensei. I've had this in my head for a while but IDK how it would go and I think you'd do it justice (just ignore this if u don't wanna i just needed to put it out there 😌)

ugh, i loved this idea. where do you find them lydia? they just live in your mind rent free and i want to go to there. gosh, thank you for the ask.

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT, NSFW/18+ only, mild angst, pivotal life moments, TW: drinking/drug use, masturbation, blow jobs, face fucking, spanking/mild pain play, vaginal fingering, cunniliginus, overstimulation, switching, dirty talk, loss of virginity (if you squint), dominance, vaginal sex     

Word Count: 11,800

Notes: oh man. so, if the word count didn’t give it away, this is plot, with a hefty dose of porn. in my mind, this is all part of the grieving process for shigaraki and he’s having a rough time coming to terms with what he’s needing to do. yeah, AFO supported him and enabled him to build a following, but he also hid all of the major pieces from him (i.e. the doctor & gigantomachia) so i can see him mourning for AFO as a teacher & as a psudo loved one, after all, at the end of that chapter he’s clutching those hands to him like he’ll fall apart without them. 

Edited by the lovely Lydia: @kugutsuu. she is the best and if you’re not reading her works, all I have to say is: YOU SHOULD BE. 

Mise en Place

/mē-ˌzäⁿ-ˈpläs/ noun or verb  a French culinary phrase which means "putting in place" or "everything in its place.”

This has got to be the strangest, hole in the wall, bar you’ve ever worked at. 

The patrons are touchy and most seem downright dangerous. The whole lot of them are more like mid level criminals than the usual haggard, overworked, regular, citizens you find in local watering holes.  Meanwhile, the gentleman who runs the day to day operations shares more similarities with a will o’ the wisp than a man, and the bar itself is smack dab in one of the seediest parts of town. 

The liquor selection, however, is top of the line. Some of the labels you haven’t seen outside of posh hotels or high class country clubs, and many of the older bottles are rarities. Honestly, there are so many of the high brow bottles that you’re not sure who to ask about the rail selection. There’s no real order to the place and it’s the most free reign you’ve ever been given with your mixology experiments. There’s not even a listing of drinks to go off of. But, if the disgruntled evening crowd is happy, then so is the upper management. All they ask is that you lock up before you leave.

No, nothing about this place makes sense. But, it does pay well and, right now, that’s the only thing you need to worry about.

There’s one other barkeep, a stogy man named Akio. He usually works the day shift, but late yesterday afternoon, he’d given you a call and asked if the two of you could swap for the duration of next week. At first, you’d balked, worried you’d need to schmooze with an unfamiliar bunch of regulars, who’d then decline to tip simply because you were new. But, Akio had sweetened the pot with the promise of $20,000 yen, so, you’d agreed. 

“It’s fairly quiet in the afternoon,” Akio reassured you. “It’s really just putting away shipment and serving the odd customer who happens to pass by. The only thing...well, I’m sure you’ve met him. You’ve been working there for over a month, no way you could miss him.” 

“Who?” you ask, twirling your spoon in your mid-morning coffee, curious, but not wanting to seem overly eager in your questioning. You like your night shift and you’re not wanting this to become a regular swap. You detest having to lug heavy boxes to and fro, pulling liquor and checking lot numbers, ick. Plus, if it really is that slow in the afternoons, it would only be a matter of time before Kurogiri would come after you with a duster and ask you to clean the upper shelves. Yeah, no, thanks. This would be a one week deal, ONLY.

“His name is Shigaraki. He’s, er, different. I suppose you’ll meet him soon, if you haven’t already.”

“Shigaraki? No, that name doesn’t ring a bell. Is he--”

“I have to go, my son is here. Thanks again for the swap and talk soon, (Y/N).”

The line clicks and you let your phone fall from your ear, clattering the metal and plastic along your kitchen table. Shigaraki, you think, taking a scalding sip of your coffee, no, that’s not a name you’ve heard before. Wonder what it is about him that has Akio so on edge. It’s not like him to give you, er, whatever that strange heads-up had been. Either way, it would take more than a vague descriptor like different, to spook you off. 

******

Akio was right, on all counts, about the haze of monotony that permeated the afternoon shift at the bar. 

Well, right on everything except a sighting of that elusive Shigaraki guy. No, the whole afternoon it’s just been you, Kurogiri, and one, rather sloshed old man, who you’ve long since cut off, and propped at the far end of the bartop. It’s been a dull, slow, day. Thank God you’d taken that extra cash from Akio, or this might not even turn out to be worth your while. 

You’re slipping another bottle of whiskey on the lower shelf when you hear a barstool scrape back. You turn at the sound, your head already lifted and a small, friendly, smile lingering on your lips. There’s a lanky guy, dressed all in black with a mop of wavy white hair, working himself onto the small seat. His head is lowered and he hasn’t bothered to look up at you, not yet, anyway. He looks, not really young, but you can’t tell and you’re not about to let some underaged kid worm his way in here. You’ve had enough of those punks sneaking in in the evening, thank you. 

“Gimme a shot of scotch,” the man says, his voice low, with a quiet rasp racing along the tone. It’s a strange timbre and it makes you pause, your eyes scanning those pearlescent strands of hair that are hiding his face from view.

“Hmph,” you snort, arching a brow at his attempts at concealment. He must be underage, who comes up to a barkeep with a ducked head and demands a scotch? 

“Let me give you a piece of advice, don’t come into a bar and immediately refuse to make eye contact with the bartender. We’re like animals at the zoo, we startle easily and don’t like surprises. And, with your face tucked like that, I can’t gauge your age. So, before I get you that unnamed and unbranded scotch, I’m gonna to need to see some ID.”

The man lifts his head at your preamble and you feel your breath catch at the raw annoyance that’s etched across his scarred and cracked face. His eyes are a rich red, closer to ruby and they latch onto yours, insistent and sharp. It’s a deeply intense stare and you can’t seem to pull yourself away, your brow furrowing at his sudden shift in demeanor. 

“I don’t have an ID,” he snaps, his lips lifting into a snarl, showing you the vivid whiteness of his teeth. 

You lick your lips and his gaze follows the motion, eyes lowering, freeing you from that uneasy imprisonment he’d abruptly ensnared you in.

Your heart is beating rapidly against your throat and you shake your head, refocusing your bewildering reaction to this guy's presence. “I-I haven’t heard that one before,” you say, taking a few steadying breaths and tossing a dirty glass in the dishwasher, looking for any task that will let you step away from this strange interaction. 

“You must be new,” he says, leaning back and hunching those dark shoulders. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and shut the dishwasher door, hitting the button to run a cycle. 

“Nope,” you correct him, pulling out two fresh glasses and lining them up on the bartop, reaching for the rail scotch. “I’ve worked here for over a month.”

“Never seen you before.”

“That makes two of us,” you reply, flipping the bottle up and filling both glasses with four counts of the dark liquor. You press one to him and lift the other for yourself. The man narrows his eyes at you and looks pointedly at the glass in your hands. 

“You supposed to drink on the clock?”

You laugh and he shifts back at the sound, his head bowing forward, another scowl lifting his lips. Realizing you must have made him uncomfortable, you step toward him and clumsily clink your glass against his, tilting your head at the surrealness of this whole conversation. “They don’t really care what I do. Come on, stranger who has no ID, bottoms up.”

He looks from you to the shot a few times before finally relenting and taking the vessel in a strange four fingered grip, his middle finger arched carefully away. Once you’re sure he’s actually going to toast with you, you sling your shot back, enjoying the sharp burn of the rich liquor. 

You’re about to ask your new drinking companion another question when you hear his chair scrape back. By the time you’re stepping toward him, he’s already pacing down a back hallway, blending into the darkness and disappearing from your sight.

“Um! You can’t...I don’t think you can go back there. And you gotta pay, dude! Hey--”

“He doesn’t need to pay.” 

You always hear Kurogiri before you see him and today is no exception. He’s standing at the entrance to the back of the bartop and he’s watching the path the strange young man took, his shifting face turned from you. You cock your head at his assertion and swiftly place your empty glass into the soapy water of the filled sink. He likely saw you take the shot, but you’re not about to leave evidence behind. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, watching as the wisp like man turns and steps toward you, his amber slits watchful. It’s like he’s sizing you up and you shift on your feet, uncomfortable at the frank, open, assessment.  

“He’s Tomura Shigaraki, and he owns this bar.”

******     

You’re off for the next two days and the wait, the silence, is abjectly harrowing. You can’t sit down, can’t relax, can’t focus. The one time you decide to get overly familiar, of fucking course, it would be with the owner. But no one has called, and no one has sent you any messages. The empty static of your job's reticence doesn’t alleviate your nerves. 

Who knows, they might want to act out the sick power play of having you show up for your shift, only be fired as soon as you darken the doorway.

The next afternoon, you take a familiar route to the bar, your feet tapping hollowly along the steps and alleyways that wind to the rusty entrance. You come in the front, blinking against the darkness, and lock the door behind you. Everything is quiet. But, in forty minutes, the open sign will switch on and you need to get your bar set up, plus slap on a little bit of makeup. You’re so lost in thought that you’re almost to the long bartop when you spot him.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki. He’s sitting at the same bar stool and his head turns as you approach, those unearthly red eyes lingering over you. It’s a different look, very, very removed from that harsh glare he’d given you the other day. He looks less hostile and more, well, curious. 

You give him a cursory nod and pad behind the high counter, taking the final glasses out of the dishwasher and removing the stoppers from all the open liquor bottles. He’s still watching you and you can feel his gaze as it bores into your back, your side, your front. You attempt to ignore him, but the constant threat of those insistent red eyes is beginning to frustrate you. Finally, once you’ve replaced the cash drawer, you lift your gaze to his. 

“What is it?” Your voice sounds waspish, but you don’t care.

“Nothing,” he replies, leaning forward and propping his chin on his palm, not breaking that unsettling leer. 

“So stop staring at me,” you bristle, unsure why your heart is starting to beat a rapid tattoo against your ribs. You don’t know this guy. Sure, he’s mysterious and almost handsome, in a dark horse kinda way, but there’s no reason for him to give you this odd staredown. You’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant this attention, well, besides drinking on the job, but he could just fire you for that, if it was so troublesome. Either way, he should either speak up, or knock it off. 

He smirks at your impudence and murmurs a raspy, “No,” back, his head tilting, waiting for your next move. 

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” You scoff, crossing your arms and jutting your chin defiantly. 

“Whatever you say,” he breathes, that smile of his deepening, making his vermillion eyes shine. And, just like that, the two of you wander into a stilted game of give and take. 

For the first few days, he makes sure he’s there before you arrive for the last of your afternoon shifts, his dark back already perched over the bartop as you shut the door behind you. Then, when you transition back to the evening shifts, he’s there too, sitting at that familiar perch, his eyes always, always watching, observing. You continue to ignore him and he seems to relish your agitated silence, flashing you dark smirks and quiet laughs.

Finally, two weeks into this stagnated stalemate, you make a point to strike up a real conversation with him. He’s obviously taken aback by your first few questions, his eyes wide and jaw tense, but he plays along. 

Over time, the two of you carefully erect a haphazard friendship. And that chair of his? That center barstool? He used to not mind if another person was sitting in it when he arrived late, but recently that’s all changed. Now he guards it ferociously. Snapping and glaring at anyone who is stupid enough to drift into it. 

Along with the lingering looks and burgeoning, almost flirty, dialogue you’ve pushed him into, he’s also gotten very demanding of your attention. If you spend too much time talking with another customer, or with Kurogiri, he pouts and darkens until you return, his tense form losing that sharpness.  It's almost like he’s got a crush on you, but he’s not sure what to do with the newfound sensation, lost and confounded by your teases and grins. 

Most people, you notice, give him a wide berth, but not you. No, you like his keen wit and heated musings. He’s fascinating and you want to see more. And in his flustered confusion, he lets you lean in, blinking and wide eyed at your open, flagrant interest in him.

******   

As the weeks drift into summer, things start to change at the bar. 

There’s some atypical deposit of power that’s been bestowed upon the place. People you’ve never seen before, begin to frequent the premises, sharing videos and whispered conversations about that man, Chizome Akaguro, better known to the general public as the Hero Killer. 

Tomura flits between several, dark moods, clutching his newly injured shoulder and murmuring complaints about hero society, All Might and the Hero Killer. Apparently, there had been an altercation between the two of them and Tomura didn’t hide his ire, his agitation from you. No, he would vent to you, his voice gravel and ash as he snarled his rage.  

Then, as if things couldn’t get any stranger, one evening a young girl begins to hang around, pestering you for a soda and prattling on and on about blood. Another new guy slips in a few hours later, his skin marred by thick, ragged burns and staples. He’s quiet, rudely demanding a shot and nursing it in a corner, his bright blue eyes flashing as he stares vacantly out at the crowd by the well. 

A quiet man, called Spinner, asks you for a water, and you acquiesce, watching as his green hands wrap around the glass, downing the liquid in a quick gulp. Later, there’s a robust, loud, clearly confused guy, wearing a skin tight black bodysuit loitering by your bartop. He keeps entreating you for a drink, then tells you to buzz off seconds later. Exasperated, you plunk a whole bottle down beside his glass and continue on with your work, ignoring his chatter. 

Finally, a man in a white mask and a top hat rounds out the strange posse and the group gathers together, hovering around Tomura, asking questions and listening to his rasping answers. 

Thankfully, the rag-tag group leaves soon after closing, all of them shouldering their way back out into the night. You shake your head as the door closes behind them, gathering the collection of dirty glasses they left in their wake. Only Tomura remains, sipping meditatively on his drink, his red eyes foggy and unfocused. You know from experience that it’s not a good time to ask him questions, so you continue with your closing duties, keeping your eyes down.

Something is going on, that much is clear. But, unless you could worm the information out of Tomura, you’d likely never fully know all of the details. Part of you warns that it’s likely dangerous. Many of the people who haunt the bar are low level villains or brokers, not a winning combination if you’re wanting to stay out of the fray, and on the right side of the law. 

You finish wiping everything down and return to Tomura, asking him softly if you can wash his empty glass. His eyes lift to yours and the expression that greets you almost makes you want to reach out and cup his cheek. He looks tired, worn thin and so, so needy. You’ve never seen him like this. It almost feels like he’s showing you something he’s never revealed to anyone else, a vulnerability that only you can see. He’s giving you access to a quiet secret that can hang between the two of you, safe in the knowledge that he can trust you with it. That urge to stroke a finger down his roughed brow rises again, but you shove the impulse away, rattled by your sudden, visceral, reaction to him. 

To distract yourself, you snatch up his glass, and turn from the intensity of his stare, a slow prickle of gooseflesh trembling along your skin. As you run hot water and soap over the vessel, you feel your heart begin to pound and you chance another peek at Tomura’s quiet form. As usual, he’s watching you, but he looks unfocused again, that broken vulnerability tucked away. You want to ask him if he’s ok, but before you can croak the words out, he pushes his stool back and paces down the dark hallway, leaving you alone and bewildered. 

******

A few days later, you ask Kurogiri if you can sneak away for a minute, you need a break. The bar has been packed since nine and you could use a quick breather. It’s the first night Tomura hasn’t stopped by and his absence has bothered you. You missed his grumpy quips and his persistent glances. All this time, you’d thought it was just him that was catching any kind of feelings, but it looks like he’s somehow managed to nag his way into your psyche, too. 

You take the back stairs quietly and let yourself out onto the alleyway balcony, climbing the rickety fire escape to the rooftop. You’d found the access to the roof your second week and it’s still your favorite place in the whole bar. On a clear night, you can see all the way to downtown Tokyo. It’s always quiet this high up, tranquil and serene. You brace yourself against the concrete wall and watch the lights of the city glimmer, like distant jewels, in the darkness.

You pull a small joint from your pant pocket and flick your lighter on, setting the edge of the rolling paper alight and taking a slow drag. The inhale fills your lungs with a light pressure and you savor the feeling before blowing a thin line of smoke into the night. You get a few more hits in before you hear the fire escape stairs rattle, signaling that someone is coming your way. You debate dampening your roach, but you don’t want to waste it, so you tuck the smoldering paper in your other hand, maneuvering it out of sight. 

The white shine of his hair always gives him away. 

Tomura hops over the ledge and his eyes are already lifting, searching for yours as he stands. You arch an eyebrow at his tense stance and you can’t help your giddy smile. “Everything ok?” 

“Kurogiri said you were taking a break,” he replies, dipping his long fingers into his pockets and sauntering over to the patch of concrete you’re braced against. 

“Yeah,” you confirm, waiting until he’s closer to lift the joint back to your lips, taking a steadying pull and scooting over, so he can fit beside you on the wall. “It’s busy, and I’ve been slinging drinks all night. Just wanted to decompress for a bit.”

Tomura doesn’t reply, but he does slot himself close, the warmth of his broad shoulder radiating against yours. The two of you drift into a companionable silence, and the only sounds that greet you is the quiet hush of traffic below and your inhales and exhales of smoke. 

“You got another meeting?” you ask, crossing your arms and pressing minutely closer, enjoying the distant shiver Tomura gifts you. 

“No,” he murmurs, his voice low. You think that might be the end of the conversation but he continues a few seconds later, his head tilting toward yours, those red eyes scanning your upturned face. “They’re on a mission. I’m not able to participate. It will need to be like a SIM game. They are the pieces that I’ll move over the board, they’ll act to my battle plan.”

You turn to him, your eyes wide. “So, they’re just...pawns? Little NPC’s that don’t matter?”

Tomura laughs and his teeth gleam in the moonlight and distant shine of the neon lights. “Of course not. Do I look that heartless? No, they’re valuable players and if this goes right, we’ll be able to take on the next level with a decided edge.” 

You let that last comment hover, pausing to take another huff, your eyes lowered, brooding over his words. “So, you’re their vanguard leader?”

“Sure,” Tomura nods, “We can’t keep grinding each mission, hoping to pick up any XP these heroes happen to drop. We need to make waves of our own.”

“Oh? Like the Hero Killer?”

“No,” Tomura snarls, his arm tensing beside yours, a hand rising to scritch at his scarred neck agitatedly. “Nothing like him. We’re looking past him. He was too short sighted, so busy following his own code of justice that he didn’t notice he was breeding more heroes, not putting them down.”

“Hmm,” you sigh, thumping your head lightly against the concrete behind you. “That is true. But, you can’t deny he’s brought up some serious divisions. It’s funny, really. It makes me think of this little hero toy I had when I was younger. 

It was of an older hero, he prolly died long ago, but I loved that toy when I was a kid. Then, as I got older, it stopped mattering and one day, without me even realizing it, it lost its importance entirely. I wonder if hero society will ever shift to that. With the fractures that have been seen at UA and all over Japan, it could be a matter of time before real change starts to happen. Anyway, I wasn’t meaning to grill you on your, uh, projects. I was--”

“What toy?” 

His question nonpluses you and you cock your head, blinking up at his peripheral stare. “Um, I think it was of that fast hero, O’clock. It was my older brothers originally, but he passed it down to me. No idea where it is now. It likely got lost in a move or accidentally left behind.”

Tomura lifts his eyes from yours, his jaw clenching and a slow gulp echoing down his lean throat. You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple, fascinated by the movement. That urge to touch him is back and you have to clench your fingers into your palms to quiet it. 

You’re so distracted by your primal reaction to him, that you miss his question and he has to repeat it, his eyes slipping back to yours, the red dark. 

“What?” you ask, blinking against the acuteness of his gaze. 

“Can I take a hit of that?”

“Of what...oh.” You lift the half smoked joint and chuckle at yourself, pressing the smoldering paper toward him. “Sure. You had one before?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, carefully taking the white roach from you and raising it to his chapped lips.

“Go slow,” you warn as he begins to inhale, his eyes drifting to a half mast, concentrating.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbles, pulling a tentative, but heavy, drag into his lungs.

“Fine,” you scoff playfully, “do what you want. But don’t blame me when you’re coughing up a lung.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t heed your advice and, seconds later, he’s clutching at his throat, dropping the joint onto the broken gravel and concrete as he heaves. Instinctively, you thump him on his back and run your palm soothingly over his lean shoulder blades, surprised by the corded muscle that greets you. For a relatively thin guy, he’s certainly packing some strength under that unassuming form of his. 

Tomura startles at your touch and he yanks himself away from you, his head ducked, eyes fastening onto yours, the irises accusatory and bright, burning with some underlying emotion that you’re too nervous to name right now. 

“Uh,” you begin, aghast that you’ve upset him, “m-my bad…”

But, he’s already leaving, his head firmly turned from you, clambering over the edge and back onto the fire escape, leaving you alone in the darkness. 

******                

After that night, you can’t slip him out of your mind. Even when you sleep, you can see those red eyes of his, gleaming and hungry. One evening, you’d even woken with your fingers firmly pressed to your throbbing clit, stumbling and gasping, shaking free of a dream of him. He’d felt so real, so in focus and you can’t catch your breath, fingers still rubbing a tight circle over your quivering bundle of nerves. You pant as you break yourself, sukling in the whites and reds that haze over your vision. Yeah, that crush of his definitely isn’t a one sided thing.

The next shift you work, he’s waiting for you, perched in his familiar seat, his shoulders curved and tight. You give him a glance, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. His hands are lowered, fiddling with something under the bartop. You begin to open your bar, trying to quiet your wandering thoughts, not wanting to perturb him again. You’re uncorking a red wine when he presses something across the mahogany wood of the bar, toward you.

It’s small, with dark colors and a tiny, familiar, upper half mask. You let the bottle of wine thud against the counter, abandoning the half opened bottle to move closer. It’s...it’s your-- No. It can’t be yours, but it is the same toy, the one you’d mentioned on the roof the other night. How did he?

You gulp and look up at him, your heart pulsing wildly against your ribs. For the first time, he looks away from you first, his white hair pillowing across his brow. His lips start to rise in an all too habitual scowl and his raspy voice lifts to your ears. “If you don’t want it,” he grouses, one hand pulling away from the offered toy, clearly flustered by your wondering gaze. Without thinking, you slip your fingertips over the top of his hand, prolonging the touch, sulking in the warmth of him. 

His fingers curl, some unconscious tremor racing along his digits. He almost yanks himself away, but then he stops, sighing as his eyes lift to yours. For a long moment, the two of you watch the other. You can hear his breathing speed up and you can almost smell the shift in the air. All it would take is one, tiny push to break that delicious tension. 

Tomura’s nostrils flare as you start to lean closer, your body curving toward his, fingers still pressing into his skin. Your tongue dips out, wetting your lower lip and pulling it into your mouth, sucking on the plush flesh. His eyelids have lowered and he’s mirroring your motions, his elbows assisting his lift, his face upturning, seeking, reaching.

With a bang, the front door is flung open and it breaks the spell that’s fallen over the two of you. Tomura leans away first, his eyes narrowed in agitation, sliding from your open face to the darkness of the entryway. You exhale a shaking breath and follow Tomura’s gaze. It’s that masked man, the one with the top hat and he’s already striding confidently forward, peppering Tomura with a series of questions. 

Snagging up his gift to you, you walk back to your bottle of wine. 

******    

You don’t have a chance to see Tomura again until he tells you, one evening, that the bar is going to be closed for the next few days. Then, over his shoulder, you spot the blonde boy, strapped and bound into a stiff chair and you blanch, stunned, too overwrought to give him more than a one word acknowledgement before stumbling back outside. In all of your talks, he’d never mentioned anything like this. That boy looked like a kid, barely past middle school, his eyes wild and defiant, but also so, so frightened. 

No, you think, pacing your apartment, it’s impossible to come to terms with this. You can’t stay there, can’t work there. It’s too dangerous, too close to a real criminal den for comfort. You have to look out for yourself, no matter your feelings for the man who’s wandering down some long, lost pathway, toward a future you can’t even comprehend, let alone see.

So, you hand in your written resignation. 

Kurogiri is behind the bar when you bring it in, and you’re hoping that the early morning conversation will spare you from having to see him. The wispy, purple hand of Kurogiri is just about to take your letter when Tomura barges down the hallway. His eyes immediately land on you and he steps forward, a dark look passing over his palled features. 

“Why?” he growls, fingers snatching the paper from Kurogiri and crumbling the parchment to bits, his quirk rendering your typed words to nothingness. 

“I don’t want to be a part of any kidnapping. It…” you pause, looking toward Kurogiri and, to your surprise, he nods to Tomura and moves away, leaving the two of you alone in the vacant bar. Tomura is still glaring at you, but he’s waiting for you to finish your thought, his jaw grinding quietly. 

“This doesn’t feel like you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tomura scoffs, his chin jutting at the assertion. 

“This doesn’t change society. This is just some petty attempt to get back at the UA staff. It’s like...It’s like you’re asking for trouble to seek you out. You’re smarter than this. Besides, what are you going to do with him?” you smart, crossing your arms and balling your fingers into your fists. 

“What do you know about anything? That kid’s been oppressed by hero society, literally muzzled and bound--”

“As if you’re doing any better! He’s still muzzled and bound, Tomura! He’s just in a different location. This is insanity. Who put you up to doing--”

“That doesn’t matter. This conversation has nothing to do with that. You can’t leave,” Tomura snaps, his head lowering, soft white hair falling over his face. “Give it a few more days.”

“What? I can’t stay if the bar is raided and it’s prolly gonna be if you keep that kid. Besides, that’s not--”

“Just...just give me a few more days. I don’t want to beg you, I shouldn’t fucking need to beg you. It’s not an impossible request (Y/N). Just--”

“Fine,” you sigh, uncrossing your arms and watching him. He looks on edge, haggard and angry. Those emotions aren’t projected at you, you know that. Nevertheless, it doesn’t lessen the danger he’s asking you to stand with him in. But, you can give him a few days and you tell him so, trying to ignore the pattering of your heart when he looks at you and smiles.

******

Then, Kamino happens. 

You weren’t there, thank God. But he was, and now, no matter what he’d asked of you, no matter what he’d hoped for, everything shifts apart. Days linger into weeks and you’re trying your best to reason that he’d made it out in one piece. Surely, you would have heard something. The capture of the leader of the League of Villains would have been a morsel that the media would have wanted to crow about, especially after the loss of All Might. 

Late one evening, your phone rings. 

It’s an unknown, blacked out number, but something tells you to answer, so you pick it up. You almost gasp when you hear that familiar rasp and you listen to what he tells you. You can’t get over how brittle and cracked his voice sounds but you write down the address he gives you. He cloaks his true motivations with a lie. Apparently, he has your last paycheck. Like that even matters to you. Honestly, you’re just glad he’s safe and whole. But, he’s gone to all this effort to build a bridge back to him, so of course you’re going to go.

You check and double check the directions, carefully maneuvering and weaving through bus stops and back streets. Somehow, you make it and find yourself pressing open a dilapidated door and stepping into a small room. Only darkness greets you, even though the bright midday sun is shining outside. The place he’s brought you to is on a dock, on the outskirts of town, close to the salty edge of a bay. You can hear the mournful cries of a seagull as you close the door behind you, sealing yourself inside and blinking into the gloom.

It takes you a minute to catch sight of him.

He’s lingering along the edges but you can make out the glow of his eyes, red and fierce. He looks different. It’s only been a few weeks, but it looks like the weight of years has crushed him under its unfeeling grind in that short amount of time. No, Kamino has changed him, rendering him unhinged and dangerous, drifting along the peripheral of your vision. Still, you haven’t come here to witness him falling to bits at your feet. No, you’d come here with another, darker motive. 

Now, to work.

“What happened?” you ask, keeping your back firmly against the door. Watching him move closer, those red shoes of his glinting over the dark wooden floors.

“Sensei is...gone,” he replies, his voice hollow and faint. He’s mentioned his Sensei before and you’d heard the man’s strange voice echoing from that back television, like some distant, terrifying specter. But, you knew he was important to Tomura, more like a father than a teacher. However, you’d seen the news. You knew he was beaten to a pulp and captured, locked away and out of Tomura’s reach. Now, he can’t ask his Sensei for advice or support, not anymore. Even knowing what little you’ve gleaned about the strange man, Tomura must be devastated by his loss.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, genuine in your sympathy.

Tomura nods and fishes for something in the pocket of his trench coat, lifting a thin slip of paper out and showing it to you. “Here,” he sighs, still not meeting your eyes directly. 

“Oh,” you say, moving away from the door and taking a few steps toward him. “You really did ask me here for the check, huh?”

“What else did you want?” he grumbles, his voice regaining a small slice of that familiar rasping. The question lingers and you feel your pulse speed up, your palms itching at your sides. “Or, did you want to scold me again?” Tomura continues disgruntled, and you can see a grimace pass over his face.

“You deserved it,” you confirm, taking another step, only wavering when you’re a few feet from him. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn't kidnapped that UA student. Now, the kid, and your Sensei are gone and you’re stuck here. Wherever here is”

“Look at you, quite the oracle aren’t you? So, you did come here to berate me.” Tomura snaps, dropping your pay stub to the dusty floor. 

“No,” you shake your head, not wanting this to spiral out of your control, not wanting him to simply shut you out, alone on that pier, left with all of your what ifs. “No, I didn’t come here to do that. I-I...it’s just that...well...that wasn’t you. That whole plan...it still doesn’t make sense”

“How the fuck would you know what is, or isn’t, me? You said that that morning, too. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now,” Tomura bristles, closing the distance and bowing up to you. You can feel the sheer heat of him radiating against your shirt and you shiver at the sensation. If you lift your hand you could touch him, you think distantly. He’s so close...He’s so... 

You gulp, trying to quell your rising emotions. “I guess, I don’t know then.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine,” you say, biting your lip.

“Fine,” he repeats, no doubt thinking that will be the end of it, but you’re not finished.

“You’re better than this you know,” you tell him, eyes searching for his, not relenting your glare until he finally meets you halfway, his red eyes flashing.

“Better than what? Better than you? A half baked woman, slumming her way from mid range bar, to mid range bar. Hoping you’ll catch the eye of the right person, someone who can pluck you from all the muck and grime that you lift that pretty little nose of yours at.”

“What?” you breathe, a snarl of your own etching across your face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing. Fucking leading me on like that--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You thought I’d be your ticket out, or you could wager me later for a better piece, something stronger, someone that could do something for you.” Tomura is seething, his chest bumping against yours, the red of his eyes burning as he glowers at you. 

“Tomura- I don’t know what you’re talk--”

“Stop saying that. You stupid, or something? And stop saying my name like that. Like it fucking matters. You could have had anything, you know? But...but you took it all for granted. You had the world...and then it...it’s...it’s just gone.”

He’s not talking about you anymore. Even though he’s growling and spitting rage at you, he’s not talking about you. “Shigaraki,” you begin, trying to see some way to reason with him. To bring him back to you. 

“Don’t call me that,” he groans, his head dipping, almost resting against your shoulder. “I haven’t earned...that’s not me.” 

“Alright. What am I supposed to call you?” you whisper, overwhelmed and trying to resist that urge to pull him into your arms. You’ve never seen him like this, and you don’t know, you don’t…

“There you go again, acting like you care.” Tomura scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“I do care, you ass,” you bite, turning your head toward him and letting your voice fall beside his ear. He snarls at the assertion and presses impossibly closer, trying his best to put on a show of wavering strength, knowing you might still be bullied into backing down, into denying him. But it’s not working, no you’ve come this far and you don’t want to leave him, not like this. 

“I care,” you repeat, still murmuring next to his cheek, so near you can hear, and feel, his ragged breaths, hot against your skin.

“About what?” he grunts, moving his head from you, determined to not let you win.

“About, well, you.”

“Liar,” he spits, but his voice wavers, showing you a tiny, tiny sliver of hope.

“Am not,” you counter and watch as he leans back, those vermillion eyes searching for yours. One of his hands lifts and he ghosts the digits over the top of your shoulder, watching as you shift toward the distant touch, pulled to him, like a magnet.

“Such a liar,” he posits, fingers hovering beside your neck, twitching with want. 

“No, I’m not,” you gasp, your voice so faint, you’re worried he might not hear it. But he does and he dips his head toward you, inches from your face, lips already parted and waiting. 

“Prove it,” he challenges, his voice deepening, losing that sharpened edge at long last.

So, you shove him. 

You’re not sure why that’s your first, instinctive reaction, but it’s too late to question your motives and it sparks a crazed response from the man in front of you, snapping him out of his head and refocusing him. 

He fumbles backwards, caught off guard, his red shoes catching as he lumbers, trying to not fall. His eyes flash at you and he instantly rights himself, moving back to you. Through it all, you can hear yourself saying something. It sounds like it might have been another taunt, but you can’t focus, not when he’s pressing himself against you, his fingers finally, finally touching you. 

Tomura can’t seem to settle now that he’s gotten ahold of you, his fingers tracing over your neck, your shoulders, your face, your sides. He’s panting and gasping, his fevered exhales fanning over your prickling skin.

“Get off me,” you moan, batting at his wandering hands.

“No,” he sighs, cupping your jaw and dragging you to his shaking lips. His kiss is clumsy, almost childlike. He lifts and leans, pressing halting smacks against you, grunting when you twist from him, fighting his hold.

“You don’t deserve it,” you tell him, wanting to lance that boil that’s festering in his mind, knowing he needs the pain before he can handle the sweetness of the pleasure. The last thing he needs is love. No, not right now. Hopefully, there will be time for that later. But for now, he needs something raw and shattered, something that will let him see that it’s not impossible to pick up the pieces, that he can be whole again, he just needs to try.

He drags his rough lips over yours and you lower your fingers into his snowy hair, pulling him closer, demanding that he give you more. He gasps at the sudden shift and you slip your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his and yanking stammering moans from him. Your lips are slick now and you use the extra lubrication to slip down his neck, leaving him trembling above you. 

You dip into each and every scar, laving over all those old hurts until he’s snarling. You leave a bruising bite against his pulse and he snatches your face between his palms, dragging you back to his lips. 

“Stop squirming,” he complains, his forehead bumping against yours, trying to keep up with your rapid fire laps and sucks. 

“No,” you laugh, fingers lacing into the lapels of his trench coat and using the leverage to drag your breasts over his hardened pectorals. He grunts at the sensation, one arm wrapping around your lower back, pinning you to him. When he finally manages to work his way free of your frantic presses, he lowers his lips to your neck, mimicking the same path you’d taken with him, his teeth nipping and pulling until your humming, giving him a thin cry of encouragement that spurs him on. 

Tomura drags a canine over your pulse and you shiver, folding into his crumpled embrace. He’s almost having to hold you upright and he growls when you slip from his arms, annoyed you’re making this so fucking difficult. 

“I said, keep still,” he reminds you, heaving you back up, lean forearms bracing you to him. You smile and lace your arms around his neck, wanting his lips again. He allows the pull, loving the contrast of your plush skin against his. He’s a fast learner and this time, it’s his tongue taps and maneuvers for entrance, swallowing down your needy pants. His nose presses into your cheek and you cup at his jaw, stroking the warm skin until he slows his frantic pace, meeting you halfway, and lingering in your wet softness.

Then, just as he’s getting comfortable, you dig your teeth into his lower lip, pulling until you bleed out a little taste of copper. He snarls and shoves you away, lifting the side of his hand to his injured mouth. 

“What was that for?” He snaps, tapping his fingers against the wound, watching as they come back red. “The fuck is wrong with…” His ire stutters to a halt when he catches sight of you. 

You’ve already slipped your shirt over your head and now your fingers are twisting until you unclasp your bra, sliding the lace down your arms. The cool air makes your nipples tighten but you don’t attempt to cover yourself from him. Instead, you arch an eyebrow at his abashed expression and begin to unbutton your pants, your fingers teasingly lingering over the button and zipper, before lowering the denim down the curve of your hips. 

You don’t even hear him approach. No, you’re too distracted by your little show to notice him until you feel those warm fingers tracing over the newly bared swells of your skin. You lift your head and your eyes catch his, smiling at the hazy hunger that’s blazing out at you. His touch is tentative and you roll your eyes openly at him, lifting your own hands over his, pressing him until he’s digging those four digits into your sumptuous flesh. 

His thumb rubs over your pebbled nipple and you reward him with a low moan, your eyes slipping behind your heavy eyelids. He cups at your other breast and lifts the weight of you into his palm, openly marveling at the feel of you. Still, it’s not enough and if you’re going to get your point across, you need him to give you more than these lazy strokes. 

“Take off your jacket,” you tell him, stepping away from him, quaking minutely in the loss of his warmth. 

“What?” he asks, clearly too overwrought to hear you. So, you help him along. Your fingers snatch the shoulders of his trench and you yank it off him, tossing the fabric down to the gritty floors. Then, you shove at him again. He isn’t as taken aback this time and he rallies immediately, snatching at you and dragging you against him, making you gasp at the harsh sensation of his dark clothes against your bare front. 

“What do you want?” you ask him, licking your tongue along the underside of his jaw, listening to his shuddering breaths. “What do you want to do to me, Tomura? Come on, I know you’ve got some idea. Fucking show me. Don’t let me boss you around, unless that’s what you’re wanting today to be about. I can take those reigns from you. I’m better at this after all. Less...flustered,” you pause, sucking and nipping at his neck, enjoying the indecisive flex of his fingers on your upper arms.

He allows you one more bite and then he’s tossing you down, not caring where you land. Thankfully, you sprawl over his discarded jacket, the fabric sparing you from the neglected wooden floor. You’re trying to regain your bearings when you hear his belt clatter to the floor. You look up at him, watching as he flings that dark shirt away, showing you the lean muscles that you’ve wondered about for so long. God, for someone so lanky, he looks fucking good. 

Tomura smirks at your expression and swiftly yanks his pants and boxers away too, revealing something even more mouthwatering. Fuck, fuck, you think, an involuntary gasp leaving your lips. His cock is thick, pulsing and absolutely dripping with his precum. The tip is a lovely pink, curving toward that chiseled stomach of his and damn, you want to suck on it until he’s putty in your hands. 

As if he can read your mind, Tomura steps closer, giving himself a few tugs as he peers down on you, imperious and almost perfectly in control. “You want it?” He asks, trying to hide that sudden shift in his voice, wanting to show you that he understands what you’re expecting from him. You nod and bite your lip, looking up at him from feathery eyelashes. 

“Come here,” he requests, slowing those pulls and letting his precum slip from his fist to the floor, tempting you with those tiny droplets of arousal. Obediently, you rise to your knees, fingers tracing up his thighs, smiling at the light buckling he gives you, his calves twitching and shaking. 

You tease your way to the apex of his hips and pause, lingering along that dip of his stomach. “Can I taste you?” you question coquettishly and you adore the moan that falls from his lips. 

Taking that as a yes, you slowly lower your mouth to him, ghosting the tip of him over you. Rubbing him back and forth, painting that thick precum over your lips until they’re glistening. Tiring of this little game, his fingers dip into your hair and he grips you, hard. With one pull, he’s burying that velvet heat of his length past the ring of your lips and into the sweet cavern of your mouth. His cock swells and throbs as you lap ravenous at the hefty weight of him.

He’s salty and earthy and you let your tongue swirl over his slit, lapping into that leaking gap until he’s murmuring nonsense over you. He’s almost too big for you to take, so one of your hands lifts and wraps around his base, easing your sucks and ensuring that none of him is left out of this gift of mind numbing ecstasy you’re bestowing upon him. 

There are several veins, racing along the side of his cock and you tickle along each of them, pressing until you can feel the beat of his heart, frantic and fluttering. Soon, he begins to silently ask you for more, rutting his hips against your face, scraping himself along the back of your throat. When you heave around him he lets out a loud, elongated moan and digs in again, lingering until you’re nearly choking. 

You chance a peek up at him and are surprised to see him gazing right back, those red eyes of his clouded and muddled. His hand keeps an insistent pressure against the back of your head, demanding that you keep going. So, you pick up the pace, lapping and sucking, hollowing your cheeks until a thin line of your drool begins to trickle along your chin, dripping onto your knees.

“Can...can I…” he begins, fingers starting to tremble, his knees buckling. No, that’s not what you want from him. You shake free of his hand, letting him slip from your mouth, and he stammers and sputters at the loss, his eyes narrowed and dark, glaring at you with a raw frustration. 

“No,” you tell him, keeping one hand on him, stroking him, maintaining that steady pressure until he’s grunting, his hips instinctively canting into the tantalizing motion. “No, you don’t ask me for anything. Yeah, I can finish you off, if you need me to take control, but it’s not going to be on your terms. If you’re wanting something Tomura, you better fucking take it. Stop asking me for permission. I’m not-- mmph--”

He rips your hand off of his dick and his fingers curl beside your ears, forcing your mouth back, and impaling you on his length, immediately gagging you on his heady thrusts. You inhale sharply, your breath catching, failing as he keeps railing into you. More saliva slides out of your lips and you falter, a weak whimper echoing around him. 

“Mmm,” he growls, holding your face as he presses against the back of your throat loving the clenching and mewls you give him. “That feels fucking good, (Y/N). Taking all of my cock, ah- fucking choking on it. You’re so fucking greedy. Don’t worry, I’ll give you more. Let’s see, what would make this even better, oh, I know. Saw it in a porn once. Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them unless I tell you to.”

Immediately, you clasp your fingers together, letting them rest against your lower back. The suspension knocks you off kilter, but Tomura braces your head with his other hand, pinning you between his palms. His dick is still lancing in and out of your mouth, scraping against your tonsils, making you swallow and open, trying to push yourself past that oppressive gagging sensation.

“Ahhh, such a good girl, now spread your legs and lift up, just a little bit, yes- right there. Better keep those hands still,” he taunts, pulling his cock out until it hangs against your lower lip, glimmering with the sheen of your ministrations. Then, he dives back in, thrusting and grinding until his balls are papping against your soaking chin. Your legs tremble as you hold yourself up and you can feel your own arousal, slipping down your inner thighs, splattering onto that dark trench coat of his. 

You’re heaving under him, grunting and slobbering trying to not fucking choke on the girth that’s being pistoned into you. He’s gasping praise at you, his white head thrown back, and his lower abdomen is rippling, letting you know he’s so, so close to spilling down your abused throat. He bows over you as he cums, spewing thick ropes of his release into you. You gulp at him, determined to let every last drop slither down your waiting throat, longing to savor everything that he’s giving you. 

True to your promise, you keep your hands clasped and you nearly topple over when he tugs free of your lips. Tomura takes pity on your wilted form and lowers himself to his knees, wrapping one hand around you and tapping twice on your shaking digits, letting you know you can relax your grip. You fall forward, and he waits above you, watching you with a mounting fascination. Once you catch your breath, you look up at him, not caring that you’re still covered in a mix of tears, spit and his cum. He smirks at your dishevelment, pleased by your open display of your wanton lust for him. 

“See? It’s not hard to take what you want, to do what you want,” you pant, still trying to gulp down a few more rough intakes of air.

Tomura sucks his teeth at your bravado, but you notice he’s having a little bit of trouble steading his own breathing and his hands are twitching as they reach for you. You hum when he cups at your dips and curves, lingering over spots that make you moan for him. As he plucks at one of your puckered nipples his eyes lift to yours and he leans close, pressing a wet line of kisses against your collarbone.

“Lay back,” he rumbles, still sucking at the hollow of your throat. You do as he says, propping yourself on your elbows, curious and waiting. He’s slowed down now that he’s slaked that first brush of pent up aggression, but he’s still got a little more to burn. You can see it, lingering behind his vermillion eyes, gleaming under the carnal intrigue. 

His fingers, so dangerous and deadly, race down your sides, falling to the juncture of your legs and dipping into the slick that he finds. He parts your folds, bracing himself over you, his lips sucking bruises into your skin. The gossamer threads of your leaking cunt run down his fingers and onto his open palm and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose to your skin and inhaling, deeply. 

“Does that feel good?” He asks, his voice scraping, like sandpaper, hoarse and undone along your heated cheek. Ok, you think, arching as he dips one digit into you, you can let him have that one question, especially when your mind is fogging over like this, unable to think of anything but that ache that’s pounding through your core. You roll your hips again, urging that finger to slip further and he hisses as you pull him in, your walls trembling at the intrusion. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, lifting himself to look down at you, his eyes wide with an awed marvel. “You’re so…”

“Mmm, so what?” you ask, wanting him to keep talking to you, loving rasp of his tone as it tells you such sinful things.

“So soft and warm and...God...so wet,” he replies, adding another finger, watching as you whine for him, your lower lips parting and welcoming him. He pumps the digits, in and out, at a steady rate, waiting for each quiver and ripple, trying to feel his way along, wanting to please you. 

“Can--” he stops himself, flushing as your eyes open and snap to his, a rough displeasure written over your face. He tears his gaze from yours and scowls, letting his fingers press a rougher rhythm into you, sucking his teeth at his unspoken inexperience. 

“This feels good,” you reassure him, not wanting to completely leave him adrift, knowing that he does need a little piece of guidance, for this part, at least. “Why don’t you get a closer look?” 

Tomura looks back to you and nods before sliding down your body, lowering himself until he’s face to face with his prize. His mouth drops and he licks at his chapped lips, painting a few, warm, exhales against your sensitive folds. You squirm at the sensation and he grins, leaning closer, his free hand spreading you for his inspection. 

“Is this…” his voice trails off and you can feel him wandering his way to just the right spot. When he lifts the fleshy hood of your clit and thumbs the distended pearl you gasp and shiver, your head falling back against his jacket, thumping against the floor. 

He laughs and you can feel him getting ready to swipe at you again, his thumb already slippery and near, the heat of it radiating against that sensitive bundle. “You like that,” he crows, repeating the motion until you’re writhing. “But—” he ponders, moving so his lips are pressed against you, resting on those sopping folds, waiting for you to look up at him. Once your head lifts and your eyes meet his, he lowers his mouth, sliding his tongue over you. 

“Oh,” you whisper, your hands automatically lifting and curling into his hair, threading the white tendrils along your palms. His tongue is rough and bumpy as it glides along, pausing to lap at some of your arousal. He smacks his lips at the taste, savoring the flavor before voraciously pressing back into you for more. When he pauses his explorations to give your clit a soft suck, you can’t help but flail, your back bowing and thighs tightening around his head. 

Tomura grunts at the rough treatment, prying your legs apart but not letting up on that suction, pleased he’s found something that makes you tremble to pieces in his hands. He’s always liked working you up, so it makes sense that, in this instance, he’s no different. 

His long digits are scraping into you, dragging along your quivering walls and spreading your cunt apart, leaking your arousal all over his jacket and onto his chin. He’s not satisfied yet, you’re not satisfied yet, so he keeps going, listening and watching, catching on to what makes you cry out his name, learning and adapting at an alarming speed. 

“T-Tomura,” you keen, your hips lifting, grinding yourself against his face, begging him to not stop. You feel a smirk lift his lips and his tongue begins to circle and lick over your clit, maintaining a steady pressure. Meanwhile, his fingers have latched onto something delicate and spongy within your pussy, repeating an arched gesture, curling and uncurling as they stroke your budding flames higher. 

“So good…” you murmur, hardly able to form the words as you feel that all encompassing tingle race along your bloodstream. “You’re doing so f-fucking good.” 

In response, he begins to suckle on your clit, lightly tracing a canine over the pulsing bundle and that’s all that it takes. Your head dips back, pressing into the floor so hard that your neck arches with your back and your legs wrap around him, holding him to you as you quiver and shake under him. You can feel your heartbeat as you return to yourself, thumping a rapid beat over your breastbone and radiating out to your fingers and toes. 

Tomura, for his part, hadn’t stopped lapping at you, his tongue replacing his fingers as he pushes the wet appendage into you, soaking up each wave of your release. Even when you’d dropped your death grip, your legs and arms flopping away from him, boneless and shaking, he’d kept on. After a few minutes of this, his lips suddenly feel a little too ragged, the chapped skin scratching against your sensitive, overstimulated, flushed lower lips. You do your best to wriggle away, but he stills your movements, not quite finished. 

“Ah- that...it’s starting to hurt,” you grouse, pushing a hand against his bowed head. That declaration seems to get through and, finally placated, he gives you one last lick and lifts his head, his eyes glinting down on you, dark and mischievous. 

“I want to fuck you,” he tells you, wiping a hand across his mouth, dragging the last of your essence away. You tilt your head and grin up at him. “So fuck me,” you reply, spreading your legs again, making room for his trim hips.

“Not like this,” he qualifies, his eyes hooded as he runs a hand along your leg, enjoying your skin, warm and pliant under his palm.

“Then how?” you ask, a little bewildered by this shift in attitude. Tomura leans up, resting on his haunches, leering at your nakedness, another smirk lifting his lips, arching that scar.

“Stand up,” he instructs. 

You pull your legs away and slowly rise to your feet, waiting for him to do the same. Once the two of you are eye level again, he tugs you to him, his lips pulling and nipping at yours. You can’t help but melt into his persistent touch and when he feels you slacken against him, he starts to push you backwards. He walks you slowly, carefully, but once your back touches the cold wall, his caresses become rougher, more insistent. 

He’s lifting your chin and his teeth are doing more biting than nipping, pulling at your lips until you’re gasping and swollen. He begins to lift away and you protest the movement, but his hand presses into your chest, shoving you back to the wall. You freeze at the forceful treatment, your eyes opening and fastening onto his. Waiting for his next move.

Tomura’s regained that wild look, his eyes hardening, sharpening like ruby slips of flint as they linger over you. “Turn around and brace your hands against the wall,” he commands and, for an instant, you debate pushing back, challenging his order, but that’s not what you’re here for. No, you’d come here with one thought in mind. 

To see if you could show him what choices, what strong inner drive, wholly independent of his Sensei, he did have. 

You’d watched that kidnapping debacle and all you could think about was how much better, how much stronger he’d be if he could just get out from under the thumb of that man, that voice on the tv. Even with this informal exercise of your own, Tomura had taken to your carnal lessons like a fish to water. He had always been a natural born leader, someone who cultivated and demanded change, he just needs a chance to try. A chance to prove that he didn’t need to ask permission, to ask questions. No, he only needed to act and he could make his aspirations a reality. 

So, you turn, splaying your fingers against the wall and waiting for his next move, tilting your head, wanting to see him. He runs a calloused hand over the plush swell of your ass, kneading the skin and stepping closer. Once his hips are flush with your posterior, he ruts his newly re-hardened cock against you, his ever copious precum aiding his motion, letting him glide between your cheeks, easing into that cleft. You groan and press back, wordlessly asking for him to keep going. 

Suddenly, his palm smacks against your ass, stinging the flesh and sending a sharp crack around the barren room. “I said, push out more. How am I supposed to fuck you when you’re plastered to the wall like that?” Tomura questions, his voice deep and guttural. You brace your hands against the peeling wallpaper and jut your ass out, presenting yourself to him, quietly hoping he’ll reward you with another spank. Pleased, Tomura does just that, his other hand lifting and smarting against your other, neglected cheek, imprinting his mark on you, even if it’s only for a brief moment, and his fingers linger on the warmth he’s raised from your skin. 

“Good girl,” he groans, taking his cock in his hand and searching for that weeping entrance to your waiting pussy. You aid him as best as you can, arching your hips until he finally, finally slips into you. Tomura lets out a deep sigh as your cunt devours his cock, slicking him into the heat of your rippling channel. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, pressing until his hips are flush with your ass, grinding his bony hipbone into your supple softness.

He gives you a brief second to adjust before he bows his head over your shoulder, panting and grunting. “Hold on,” he gasps, slowly pulling his hips back and then ramming his straining cock back into you. You mewl at the sudden ferocity of his thrusts, your head dipping against the steady weight of the wall. 

He offers you no reprieve as he pounds into you, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking and drooling, losing himself in you. His balls tap against your swelled ass and you moan when he traces one hand around you, his fingers seeking your clit and pinching at the nub. 

Your teeth begin to chatter, but he doesn’t let up, maintaining that mind numbing pace, pressing and grinding until you can’t fucking think straight. He’s completely untethered and he slakes out all of those pent up questions, feelings, hurts and wants against you. After a time, he begins to murmur things to you, finally sucking up his loose tongue and resting his chin on the mess he’s left on your skin.

He’s worried he can’t do it. 

He’s never been alone, not like this. 

Sure, he has the others, he has Kurogiri, but it’s not the fucking same. 

He needs to see this through. 

He wants to, he has to.

Where do you go, when there’s no one else to turn to?

It’s like a confessional, this rutting he’s doing and it’s bleeding all of those thoughts away, letting them pool against the front of his mind and then, pop, they shift away. 

Oh this helps, he thinks, loving how you’re fucking taking him, how much you fucking need him. He can’t let you go. He can’t, he won’t. You’re all he has left. After all this, he can’t lose anything else. No, you were right, he’s gotta start taking things, snatching up pieces until he becomes this unstoppable force, greater than his Sensei, greater than All Might, greater than all of them. Yes, yes, yes, when he has you like this, everything else feels so fucking simple. 

He’s slowing, his hips beginning to stutter and press erratically against you. There’s no need to worry about you cumming for him, not when you’ve already broken around him so many times in the last few minutes. No, the second he started panting all of those thoughts against you, you were lost, your cunt gripping him so tightly you were worried it might never let go. 

Finally, with one last thrust, Tomura grinds his hips against you, his cock swelling and pulsing as he spills himself into you. The sensation of his cum splashing against your walls hurtles you over that edge one last time and you almost collapse, your legs shaking so badly you can't support your own weight. The only thing that prevents you from falling is Tomura. His arms snake around your waist and he holds you to him, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, sticking to your skin. 

After a long beat, Tomura pulls himself out of you, grunting at the loss of your warmth and sinks to the floor, dragging you with him. Naked and gasping, the two of you cling to the other, waiting for the world to stop spinning as you come back to yourselves. Tomura recovers first, tugging you to his chest and wrapping himself around you, his chin perched on the familiar slope of your shoulder.

“You didn’t...you didn’t need to do this, but...” Tomura halts, his voice soft as his lips press rough kisses to your skin, silently saying what he really means, what you mean to him.

“That’s not true,” you counter, turning your head toward him. “You deserve to make a choice for yourself. You’re your own boss now. Now all you have to do is act like it. Don’t make those mistakes again. You call the shots, not your Sensei, not anyone else in the League, just you. You’ll have other choices soon, so don’t doubt yourself, it’s not like you.”

He huffs out a laugh and buries his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as he licks at a rising bruise. “I don’t think you’ll like my next choice,” he rumbles, one hand drifting over your side and cupping the soft mound of your breast.

“That depends on what it is,” you smile, your eyes closing at the tempting touch.

“Mmm, do me a favor,” he begins, nipping at your earlobe. “Get on your knees and open your mouth. You looked so fucking pretty when you were sucking on my cock, I wanna see it, one more time.”

“What?” you question, absolutely incredulous, “again?”

“Do as I say (Y/N),” he replies, rubbing his rising length along your ass.

“God,” you gasp, bucking at the sensation, “what have I done? At this rate, I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“You’ll like it,” Tomura promises, his voice dark, “I’ll make sure that you do.”

Notes: never have i ever liked that kidnapping bullshit. i guess it lets AFO face off with All Might, but for Tomura’s development? it makes no sense and he’s never done anything like that again, in canon. so, uh, yeah. booo kidnapping scheme. 

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

[tastyykpop]

𝐶𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒-Part 1

Pairings: yandere mafia leader!baekhyun x reader

Genre: suggestive, smut in later chapters, angst probs, fluff here and there but its very lowkey

《teaser next》

Warnings: kidnapping, drug use, alcohol consumption, baeks kinda crazy, pet names, master kink, spanking (he literally spanks her once), choking (not in a kinky way), mentions of blood and murder

Word count: 4.9k

Tag list: @wooya1224 @geniusloey tell me if you want to be tagged!!

⚠️ this is purely fictional and not how I imagine baekhyun to actually act. If you feel like you're in a situation like this please run and report it. I do not support this behavior.

How long has it been? 3 or 5 days? Maybe even a week. You didnt know nor did you care. But why would you? You've gave up caring ever since your boyfriend, Sungho was murdered right in front of you, but you couldn't even see who the murderer was which drove you insane.

Tears and blood stained your pretty skin that night, so much agony and rage ran through your veins. All you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and scream until you passed out. But its been days since you've gotten a proper good night's sleep and it was eating you away ever so slowly. Everytime you closed your eyes, you remembered that dreadful day, Sungho's screams, the terror on his beautiful face, his lifeless bloody body. What did he do to deserve death? Why did it have to be him?

"Y/n! Y/n, its been four days please come out of your room!" It was the familiar voice of your mother and her knocking that brought you back to reality. She was almost begging, she hasn't seen you since you locked yourself away that night so you couldnt blame her for being worried, but you were fine. "I'm coming in."

She pushed your door open to see you cuddling your blanket with no emotion on your face. You looked at her with barely any care and rolled over, facing away from her.

She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, "You know y/n, we'll get to the bottom of this and have them put behind bars. It's gonna be ok-"

"No its not," you rasped from not using your voice in so long, "I dont even know what the murderer looked like, how can we put them behind bars!?" There was a small pause, she knew finding them wasnt likely which hurt you like hell, but she was still trying her best to comfort you.

"...At least come out of your room, everyone's worried." Your mother pleaded and though you really didnt want to move, you didnt want to upset or worry anyone any further so you got up.

With a smile, she did the same and led you downstairs to where you dad and sister were. They tensed when they saw you, but nonetheless smiled sadly, thanking the heavens you were okay.

"You look horrible..." your sister, Haeun, commented making you cringe. It wasnt like she was wrong, you spent four days not taking a shower and sitting in the same clothes so of course you looked bad, who wouldn't.

You excused yourself and went into the kitchen grabbing the first thing you saw, a bottle of vodka. Now it wasnt the best drink you could've had, but you decided to drink away your pain and suffering since you couldnt take the heart ache any longer.

"Shes doing it again." Your mother whispered but you heard her clear as day. "Shouldnt we stop her?"

"What for? She won't listen and she's traumatized. There's nothing much we could do right now." Your dad spoke with sadness watching as you took a quick swig from the substance.

Normally, you're not one to drink vodka but now it felt good, maybe too good. The more you drank it, the less pain you were in. It could last forever, you thought, but nothing lasts forever.

As you poured yourself another drink, you started wondering about Sungho again. If there were an afterlife, was he happy there? Would he be watching over you, making sure you were happy and healthy?If only it were that simple.

Though you and him were starting to drift off a bit, you still cared and loved him and now you're starting to take everything you guys went through for granted. Its what you get.

Standing up, you left the kitchen a bit dizzy from only drinking alcohol and having nothing else in your system and went back upstairs to take a shower. You decided after drinking, you wanted to go to the club you always go to. Normally, you didnt go on a Thursday, but you thought since you haven't been out in a while that it would be good to leave and breathe in the fresh air.

You took a fairly quick shower and your hair and makeup didnt take long either. Finally stopping to look at yourself in the mirror, your saw how pale and tired you were. Almost lifeless. You figured that once you finally have a good time, it would all go away and you'd be happy again.

"Where are you going?" You jumped at the voice of Haeun who appeared out of nowhere.

"To the club." You stated nonchalantly,

Haeun frowned, "Thats not a good idea, all you'll do is drink until you pass out. And there's always weirdos waiting for their turn with someone vulnerable like that."

A smile formed on your face trying to lighten up the mood a bit, "Ill be fine. I promise nothing bad will happen."

Haeun sighed, almost sounding like a bratty child who didn't get their way because she knew she wouldn't change your mind no matter how hard she tried. It sucked to have a stubborn sibling like yourself.

Sehun rolled his eyes at the sight of Baekhyuns scheduled flirting session. The girl was dressed in barely anything and he could tell she was probably Baekhyuns new toy for the night as he started getting handsy with her. But Sehun could see how Baekhyuns eyes weren't always looking at her. Instead, they sometimes searched passed the girl in hopes to find something else. He knew what, actually who he was searching for so he never asked or mentioned it.

He remembered you perfectly. Your calm and sleeping figure laying peacefully on your boyfriends chest. It was a shame he had to wake you up while he killed the man. And it was a shame to see such a pretty girl cry and scream with such fright in her eyes.

But Sehun didn't feel that bad, he did what he was supposed to do with only a little remorse.

"Sehun," Baekhyun called, the younger lifted his head waiting for him to continue, "Are you sure you didn't hurt my little toy the other day?"

Sehun scoffed, "If I did, I'd be dead by now, hyung."

The man chuckled sadistically , "She hasn't been here in a while," Baekhyun looked up from the girl and turned to Sehun, "Its only safe to ask."

"Hyung, I told you before that shes probably scared." Sehun face palmed when Baekhyun glared at him.

"A little red shouldnt effect someone that bad."

"I kil-" Sehun stopped what he was about to say, forgetting about the girl straddling Baekhyuns lap and cleared his throat, "Shes not used to stuff like that, Baek."

He didn't care about what Sehun said and ignored the youngests pointless blabbering, returning his attention back the girl only for a short amount of time until something caught his attention.

You walked in his club with confidence and beauty not giving any staring man the time of day and took your usual seat at the bar. After ordering your drink, you put your head in your arms and Baekhyun grinned.

Now was his chance, there's no way anyone will get in his way and there was no way he'd let this chance go.

"Stay here." Baekhyun said to Sehun, pushing the girl off him as he stood up. She almost pulled him back but he gave her such a terrifying death glare that made her stop.

"Theres no way youre actually gonna go talk to her...right?" Sehun questioned a bit shocked that Baekhyun was actually going to you after so long.

"Of course I am, I'll be back." With that, Baekhyun walked away from the two with only one thing on his mind: you.

He waltzed with a smirk of pure evil. What would he do? Only God knew, but he couldnt help himself when he saw your pretty face.

All eyes watched Baekhyun stop next to you, astonished that he went to talk to a girl and not the other way around, "Excuse me sweetheart," You popped your head up in the direction Baekhyun spoke, he took a seat next to you with an almost comforting smile when he saw your red cheeks, "But are you okay."

You wanted to spill everything that happened so bad because you needed to get it out, but you didnt know the man and neither did he know you so all you could do was nod, "Im fine."

Baekhyun knew behind your lying eyes was someone in pain and searching for a person to hold, but he couldnt do anything just yet and tried loosening you up to him so he could do what he wanted to do in the first place.

"C'mon sweetheart, you can tell me anything." He smiled that charismatic smile of his, "I'm easy to talk to."

It was believable for the most part and you laughed a bit, the first laugh you actually had since that tragic night, "You seem like a sweet talker," you smirked causing Baekhyun to chuckle, "Whats the catch?"

"There is no catch, I just wanted to know if youre okay. And besides, I could tell you've been crying." He pointed to your tear stained cheeks and you mentally cursed yourself for unintentionally crying just a few moments ago.

"Oh.."

"Dont worry," He chuckled, "Whatever it is im sure you'll get over it." Baekhyun almost failed to hide his sinful smug as you frowned and covered it quickly with a swig of your drink.

But something inside was eating you away about what happened, you needed to let out your emotions and you started caring less and less that he was a stranger. Then again, what if you scared him away? What will happen next?

"At least tell me your name first," You blushed and shyly looked over at him who had an expecting glint in his eyes, "Then maybe ill tell you why I'm so upset."

Baekhyun stretched his hand out in front of him and you gently shook it. Damn he had a strong grip, "My names Byun Baekhyun and you?" He asked as if he didnt know who you were.

"Y/n L/n." You beamed, wondering why his name was so familiar. "So uh- my story..." Fumbling with the drink in your hands, you sighed heavily, "Long story short, my boyfriend was...murdered in front of me." You mumbled the last bit, but you didnt need to repeat yourself as Baekhyun already knew every single detail of that night thanks to Sehun.

Placing a soft hand on your shoulder he whispered with fake sympathy, "I understand now why you're so upset," Liar, "I feel terrible," No he doesn't.

He wiped a stray tear that had slipped down your cheeks and sent you a solemn look.

"I-its in the past i guess." You muttered, "I can't change a thing about it."

Damn right you couldnt. Even if there were some form of time travel, Baekhyun wouldn't dare let you try and change the past because that would mean you weren't entirely his. But since there isn't anything like that, Baekhyun has nothing to worry about except figuring out how to bring you back with him.

"Would you like a glass of water, y/n?" Baekhyun asked quickly as a thought popped into his head. You nodded your head slowly and Baekhyun called over the bartender. You werent really paying attention to him ordering the water and just let your mind slip to the sound of the music and looked around the room, tapping your fingers to the beat, but you stopped when you felt a pair of sharp eyes watching you from somewhere. You looked here and there before stopping on a man that was a about a few inches taller than Baekhyun. He had a eerie grin on his face when you noticed him, then he winked.

Chills went down your spine and you spun yourself around in your chair facing forwards causing Baekhyun to raise an eyebrow but he didnt question it.

"Heres the water." He handed the drink over and you thanked him before taking a sip. It tasted a bit weird but not all water tasted the same, though it was slightly dry for water.

"So tell me about yourself, y/n." Baekhyun checked his watch, all he needed was fifteen minutes then you were all his. "You seem like an interesting person." He looked up and smiled.

"Well," You thought about what was possibly interesting enough to tell him, "Im in my second year of college!" A smile crossed your lips.

"Oh really? Where do you go?" Baekhyun did seem interested to know some parts of your life. Somehow, you caught his attention like that. Thats why Sehun was a surprised when he finally made his move with you.

"Seoul of Performing Arts." You beamed. It was the happiest moment in your life when you got accepted and all of your family members, extended and close, celebrated your acceptance, "My boyfriend, Sungho, went there too."

He just about rolled his eyes but replaced it with a nod and a fake warm smile. If you knew him better, you'd know that smile was only him clenching his jaw in anger.

"How cute." The glint in his eyes proved he was lying and maybe you were too stupid or innocent to notice when you took another sip of water.

He watched and wished his plan could go faster, he was excited to have fun with his pretty little toy and he couldnt wait any longer.

"What about you?" You raised a brow. There was still something in your gut that made you feel like you knew him. And you still wondered why. Was he someone famous in the city? Maybe you've heard your friends mention him here and there? What was it about him that was so familiar?

"You'll know soon enough kitten." You frowned at the pet name as he pat your head like you were a small child yet you chose to ignore it.

It was a bit outlandish and made you more skeptical to know who he was.

"Thats not very reassuring, Baekhyun." Your quirked.

"Why tell you when I can just show you?" He leaned in, mocking your now pouty lips and chuckled, "The drugs should be setting in by now."

You lifted your head up with wide eyes, "Wait what?" Did you hear him right? Did he say what you thought he said? "What do you mean drugs!?" You said with awestruck as your heart raced in fear. You hoped to god he was just joking

The man before you smirked that unpleasant smirk of his, almost like the guy you saw before and you started panicking more, knowing he wasn't kidding. You tried to get up and run but you felt so woozy in a matter of seconds. Not to mention the sudden pain in your stomach that made you want to throw up. What was Baekhyuns plan? Why did he do this!? You thought at least one thing could go right tonight and maybe you could have fun, but you were wrong. So so wrong.

Trying to leave the club building, you knew you wouldn't make it but you still wanted to attempt an escape. It didn't have to be like this. Each step made it harder to move and your eyes started drooping. It was too late for you.

Already collapsed on the ground, people gasped and stared at your almost lifeless body as Baekhyun tilted his head to the side, "She tried, ill give her that." He walked over and crouched down next to you, moving the hair out of your pale face, "But not hard enough."

In an instant, your body was thrown over the man's shoulder. No one commented on anything that happened in fear that they could be next. It was impossible to say that they felt bad either, they were just glad it didn't happen to themselves.

"Sehun," He called out to the younger male but Sehun was already ahead of him, "You drive." He tossed him the keys.

With a nod they both walked out, you on Baekyuns shoulder as he took you to the expensive car. Gently, he placed you down in backseat, putting your seatbelt on for you, and climbed in on the other side to sit next to you.

"All this just for a girl." Sehun shook his head but needless to say he still smirked, "Youre loosing yourself, hyung." The car sparked and drove off into the night, no cops came searching. They knew better. And neither was there news of your kidnapping, the city stayed quiet.

Sure once your parents realized you were gone they'd start freaking out, but would they dare mess with Baekhyun? Would anyone actually try to mess with him? The mafia could easily answer that with an optimistic no. Remember, Baekhyun had power. No one is going to stop him.

"How long will she be out for?" Sehun asked.

Baekhyun shrugged, "Like an hour or two." He was excited for your life with him now, he knew you were finally his after a year of watching you come and go in his club, plus the small stalking he did when he wanted to see you, and he could only smile. No one can get in between him and your love anymore. "Shes gonna love it when she gets home!"

Sehun chuckled at Baekhyuns almost child like enthusiam and started, "She seems a bit innocent," he paused, looking back at your passed out body in the mirror before returning back to the road, "Normally women don't look off into space when someone's buying them a drink."

"Maybe she's a bit slow, but she wouldn't be here with me if that didn't happen."

The candle flickered in the dark as you awoke on a strange bed. You're head was pounding a bit as you tried looking around at your unfamiliar surroundings. What happened? Was your first thought and you started questioning where you were too. You knew something wasn't right but you couldn't understand why.

You tried getting up only to be locked in place by restraints on your wrists. They were only silk but they were tied tight enough to keep you still. Tilting your head in confusion, you heard foot steps coming towards the door and stopping for a mere few seconds before the door handle twisted.

You anticipated what was going to happen, you didnt even know what was going on in the first place, but you remembered the man standing in front of you.

"B-Baekhyun..?"

"Hey, kitten." That sinister smile was plastered on his face. You were sure it held more meanings then just one.

"Where a-am i?"

He almost cooed at your curiosity but composed himself, "At my mansion, where you'll be staying from now on."

There was a moment where you had to think, interestingly enough what Baekhyun said didnt even frighten you in the slightest, but then again you were high off the drug.

"C-Can you u-untie my hands please?" Your voice was soft and quiet, Baekhyun noticed you werent fully aware of your surroundings and complied, untying the silk from your wrists.

Your eyes were a little dilated when you looked at him. He was gorgeous, you had to give him that, though you wanted to remember why something wasn't sitting right with him. "Baekhyun?"

He looked up with a hum.

"Who...are y-you to me?" You squinted your eyes at the man who sat on the bed next to you, drawing small shapes on your thigh in a sort of loving manner.

"Your boyfriend, y/n."

Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend?

"I have a boyfriend..?" You muttered and asked more to yourself than to him, but he snickered, knowing way more than you did.

"Kitten you drank too much, go back to sleep." He lied and pushed your shoulders down so you were flat against the mattress.

"I-i did?" You whined when Baekhyun kissed your cheek. He always wanted to kiss more than your cheek, he couldnt bring himself to do that unless you were fully conscious for him.

"Yes baby girl, so get some sleep."

You grumbled, "I-Im not t-tired."

Baekhyun sighed, "Then what would the pretty girl like to do?"

You perked up on the mattress and grinned, "Im hungry!"

"Youre hungry?" Baekhyun repeated with a smile at your small childlike energy and you nodded back, "I can ask someone to make you something if you'd like."

"Please!"

He stood up, waiting for you to do the same but since you weren't very awake, you stumbled a bit.

Baekhyun settled with carrying you to the mansions kitchen, awing at your cuteness the whole time. It was a bit of a walk but luckily you were light.

Sitting you down, Baekhyun walked off, finding someone to cook for you. In your state, you felt a bit lonely, only knowing Baekhyun and not your surroundings, it made you feel a bit lost. It shocked you too how you didnt remember Baekhyun being your boyfriend, you started question the relationship between the two of you more.

"Princess i got you your favorite dish!" He walked in with a plate of jjajangmyeon and set it down in front of you.

Your mouth was watering and you were ready to dig in before wondering, "H-How do you know m-my favorite dish?"

Baekhyun hesitated at the question before clearing his throat and spoke with a raised brow, "We're dating y/n, why wouldn't I know what you like?"

"Uh yeah..right...." you dug in, your mind was starting to clear up a bit, not enough for you to fully remember anything though. But the more you thought, the more consciousness you regained.

Baekhyun watched as you gobbled down the meal with full satisfaction. This wouldn't be the first time he's watched you and neither would it be the last. He liked knowing you were eating well and were healthy so he was proud.

"I-im done!"

"Good girl. Now wait for me to come back so we can go to bed, okay?" You nodded and sat patiently as he took your plate and waited for your boyfriend to come back.

A few moments later, Baekhyun still was no where to be seen and your mind was slowly coming back, "N-no...wait." mumbling to yourself, you figured it out in just mere seconds and remembered that your boyfriend was brutally murdered four days ago in front of you. After four days you went to the bar to drink away the anguish and met someone, that someone was Byun Baekhyun. After thirty or so minutes of talking to him, you were drugged when you werent paying attention and passed out minutes later. Now you were here at Baekhyuns mansion, lied to and kidnapped. "Oh fuck."

The chair scraped against the floor and you wasted no time running to your hopeful freedom.

But you weren't a lucky person. Oh no you weren't. You were tossed and pushed against the door you were about to open by someone much bigger. He was the same guy you saw at the bar and his smirk was nothing different. Cynical and frightening.

The man stepped closer to you before putting one hand next to your head and whispered, "Are you playing a cat and mouse game with hyung now? How cute." Standing tall, he grabbed you by the hair and dragged you back to where you came. You groaned and tried fighting back, but there was no use, he wasn't going to let go until after he practically threw you into Baekhyuns arms.

You were about to scream at Baekhyun and the no name man until Baekhyun covered your mouth with his hand, "Say something and you'll regret it." He growled into your ear as you shook and fought.

You hummed against him and tried biting his hand and punching his side, but he was like a man of steel and let it happen, only raising his brow like he wanted to hurt you, but didnt.

"Sehun, tell Chanyeol to lock all the doors for the next week or so 'til she learns how to behave."

The man nodded and ran off leaving you two alone. Fear was one way to describe it and the look Baekhyun gave you didnt help.

"Now kitten why would you go and do some shit like that? Are you asking to be punished?" He took his hand off your mouth to let you speak. Baekhyuns aura was much different than earlier. The nice guy was gone and you were left with a man who could kill you with just one look.

You stopped hitting him and screamed viciously, "Fuck you! You're fucking insane!"

"Now now princess," he pressed a hand to your throat, wrapping it tighter and tighter until you felt the oxygen leave your lungs, "It seems as if you're asking for a punishment."

"I-if you...s-so dare to-touch..any other p-part of my body, i-ill....kill you..." You whimpered, grabbing his wrist in attempts to pull him off but Baekhyun was relentless, keeping his grasp tight and painful.

"Stop struggling, you're only making this harder for yourself."

There were two options now, either listen to Baekhyun or fight until you passed out again.

"Princess." His voice held a warning tone and you hesitantly stopped and moments later he loosened his grip, you knew there would be marks by tomorrow, "We are going to bed now. Don't try to run, I have this place guarded up and if you do somehow make it out, be prepared because I will find you and beat your ass until you can't sit for a month. Understand?"

Your stomach did flips and not in a good way, you were scared, "Y-yes."

"Can you say 'yes master'?" His voice went higher as he said the last part to mimic yours.

You sighed, positive if you didnt comply then you'd be here all night, "Yes m-master..."

"Good girl." He kissed your cheek and you almost smacked him in disgust but tried not to act aggressive towards him. You wanted to leave, not be punished by whatever he had in mind. "Call me that from now on."

Baekhyun grabbed your hand and led you to the room you were just in, now that you took a good look, it was a pretty room. There was a red sofa against the wall and some other matching chairs plus a huge flat screen TV hanging on the wall facing the bed. You had to admit, he had good taste but he was still insane.

As you sat down on the bed, Baekhyun reached into his draw to pull out a t-shirt and handed it to you with a wide smile, but you raised a brow at the fabric.

"No pants?" You asked.

Baekhyun chuckled, "What for?"

"Because of creeps like you." You grumbled and snatched the shirt that dangled in front of your face before storming off into the connected bathroom. Inside, you could hear Baekhyuns annoying laugh and ignored it, changing into the surprisingly very oversized shirt that went down to your mid thigh.

Taking the clothes you wore earlier, you went back into the room where Baekhyun laid peacefully on the bed, waiting for you.

He only had his boxers on which made you groan in anger and decided to not lay on the bed and instead on the couch near it.

"Princess, what are you doing?" He perched himself on his elbows, watching you throw your clothes on the ground then take the folded blanket on the couch and wrap yourself with it as you laid down.

"Going to sleep, master." You stated coldly with a glare.

Baekhyun rolled his eyes, "Get over here." He said, voice low and laced with dominance but you remained still, closing your eyes and pretending as if you were asleep. "Y/n." He warned but there was no reply.

"Thats it." You heard him get up and march to where you laid. Baekhyun picked you up and you yelped at the sudden intrusion and were thrown over his shoulder.

Smacking his back got you nowhere as he threw you down on the bed, pinning both your hands down and hovered over you with a killing look, "Next time you don't listen, ill bend you over my knee."

"Youre all talk, no action." In an instant you were flipped over and a hand landed straight on your bare ass, leaving you shocked and mouth agape.

"Are you sure, kitten? Would you like me to spank you again?"

"N-no."

"No what?"

"N-no master.."

Baekhyun slowly let you go and laid beside you, still a bit irrated. "Now go to sleep."

You couldnt. Not with the lingering fear of what could happen next. Plus, not with his arm wrapped around your waist with a somewhat tight hold. You were just too scared to let your gaurd down. Why shouldn't you be scared though? What if he took advantage of your sleeping body and did something terrible.

There was no way you could get rest now. You could now count this as your fifth day without proper sleep.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

even more geralt ramsey hcs

PART 1

since everyone enjoyed the first round so much....

inspired by seasons 2&3 of kitchen nightmares and conversations with @toss-a-coin-to-your-lesbian and @toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account

don't worry there Is a fic in the works :)

-geralt gets food poisoning all the fucking time

-that is when he's doing kitchen nightmares

-cause have you seen the shit on that show?? its nasty

-and contrary to popular belief, geralt does Not have an iron stomach

-no he might be able to eat unseasoned meat and gross tavern food but Somehow he had not gained immunity to bad meat and moldy food

-hes trying to though

-but anyway

-he regularly gets food poisoning while filming the show

-even despite his prayers to not

-he carries around a bottle of pepto bismol with him at all times

-he doesn't particularly think that it works

-but the looks on the owners faces when he downs it in front of them after eating their food is Priceless 

-most of the time

-jaskier is not with him when he films cause jaskiers busy bake off hosting

-but

-occasionally

-he will tag along

-these nights usually result in geralt puking in some random hotel and jaskier going Full Feral Bard

- “geralt i think that its very nice that you see the potential in these places but i will not tolerate them giving you food poisoning”

- “hmm”

-he leaves all the places that give geralt food poisoning bad yelp reviews

-jaskier loves yelp

-geralt absolutely hates yelp and he hates that jaskier does this because “I'm trying to improve the place not further drag it through the gutter”

-jaskier does not care

-he had had to make 4 separate yelp accounts because geralt keeps deleting his

-so far his names have been susan, leslie, tabitha, and trish

-people online start to notice a Trend

-whenever geralt flips a place, a Really Bad Yelp Review turns up, usually within the same week it was filmed and they all reference food poisoning 

-and they all are written in this weird flowery language

-at first people think that geralt himself is writing them

-a few seasons in after geralt slips up that he has a husband people start to Speculate that the husband is writing the reviews

-jaksier is overly smug

-geralt tries to get him permanently banned from yelp

-it does not work

-geralt also has a Big Watch

-like I'm talking a thick silver rolex kinda thing

-wears it all the time

-jaskier got it for them for one of their big anniversaries

-750? geralt doesn't know and certainly doesn't remember 

-but its very nice

-the back of it has an inscription 

-its says dear heart

-geralt will never admit it though

-it looks frighteningly out of place next to his spare hair tie but oh well

-he also still wears his medallion

-tucked under his shirt

-sometimes people ask him what it is

-he claims that its a Bad Food Detector

-also on the chain are two rings

-one of them is one of jaskiers

-he gave it to geralt as a sort of promise ring way back when when they first got serious

-the second is geralts wedding band

-he doesn't wear it very often cause he's Chef but he still likes to have it close to him

-hes used the same one at every single one of their many many marriage ceremonies 

-the ring itself is hella fucking old

-jaskier probably bought it at Ye Olde Marketplace back in like 1370 cause he was sappy and geralt said he liked it and saved it for years and years until they officially got married

-geralt has a knife on him at all times

-its not a kitchen knife either

-its one of his old hunting knives

-spelled to look like a pocketknife 

-its very useful for poking at food he doesn't want to eat

-and besides, old habits die hard

-also in this au

-idk why

-but i picture this geralt as having the face scar that game!geralt has

-no one knows where he got it

-theres many many stories

-theories range from wrestling a bear to a kitchen nightmares gone wrong

-after they are officially Out

-everyone asks jaskier

-at first he's annoyed

-cause “why do you need to know? he's beautiful either way”

-but then he decides to have some Fun with it

-when he's hosting bakeoff he’ll say shit like 

- “oh be careful with that flambé, that's how geralt got that scar.”

- “don't go flipping knives around like that! bollocks that's how geralt nearly lost his eye!”

-or geralts personal favorite

- “see this is why we don't leave banana peels in the kitchen! have you ever wondered where geralt got that scar from? he slipped on one and flew into the counter!”

-such an event did happen actually but it was at kaer morhen and it was a prank pulled by lambert during the winter of 1298

-but all geralt got from that was a black eye and he dyed all of lambert's small clothes pink

-the season that jaskier happens to say that one though is the season where lambert is competing 

-cause i don't know if i mentioned this but lambert can't cook but he can Bake and in this au he goes on bakeoff and purely to annoy the shit outta jaskier

-lambert is so caught off guard about the banana peel story that he nearly drops his finished technical challenge 

-later on that day lambert finds a box in his hotel that contains a pair of pink underwear

-(geralt sent them)

-i could go on forever about this but this post is long enough as it is

tagging some people that seemed really interested in the first round of hcs (hope you don't mind. if you do mind lmk and i’ll take you off) also i guess there's a tag list for geralt ramsey now so if you want on...shoot me an ask?

tag list: @littleredhotridinghood @artemisthehuntress @love-more-today-than-yesterday @llamasdumpsterfire @fontegagrilledcheese @punksarcasticmisanthropicwriter 

[girls-are-very-pretty]

Hi! So I talked to my friend about the movie The Great Gatsby earlier and I said the movie is better than the book and he thinks the book is always better than the movie, so I wrote up a thing and sent it to him that is 3 reasons why the movie is better than the book, and I actually think theres some very good points here and I got enthusiastic about it so I really want to share it, so I’m going to. Hopefully someone else has opinions because while I personally think the movie is better and theres many reasons beyond the scope of this three point list, I am always interested in hearing new perspectives and opinions, so like don’t yell at me because I get hurt easily but like tell me what you think:

Reason why I liked the movie better than the book Number One: In the movie it starts with Nick Carraway in an institution, it uses his therapy to reflect upon, and in turn play out, the story. This is excellent because not only does it leave you wondering what lead up to this (if you haven’t read the book), but it also expresses and implies that the events in the story have a lasting impact. That they exist beyond the scope of the immediate tale, that the characters mean something both in general and to each other. The events of the story affect Nick Carraway in such a profound and deeply distressing or painful way that he was left with no option but to go to an asylum in what I assume is the 20’s-30’s which was never really the preferable option.                                                      

Reason Number Two Why I liked the Movie Better: The Actors. There's that one scene around the middle where daisy and Gatsby are in Gatsby’s house and they tour it and daisy says its beautiful, and Gatsby throws shirts at her and she says they’re beautiful and that he’s ruining them. 

When we read the book all we know of Daisy is that she seems to be shallow, always wants to have money, this seems to be proven when she remarks on the beauty of his house and the clothes but the key difference is the actors. In the book you can’t connect to Daisy at all, she’s functionally emotionless.

 But in the movie she’s beautiful and vivid, when she’s with her husband she’s always quiet and does whatever he says, but when she spends the day with Gatsby and Nick, she’s loud. She breaks things and Gatsby looks at her like she hung the stars herself, so she keeps going. They play around and she talks about dancing in the big hall. She jumps on the bed and twirls around. Then, when he throws the shirts at her, she isn’t looking at them. She says they’re beautiful but she’s looking at him. She’s laughing genuinely for the first time in the whole movie, and when she says “you’ll ruin them” she suddenly becomes sad, she collapses onto the bed and Gatsby runs to her as she tears up, she says “they’re just so beautiful” and looks across the bay to her house, but its a cover up. Its her realizing that she can make messes here, she doesn’t need to be worried about ruining things, her husband isn’t going to yell at her because she isn’t the prim, proper, beautiful, showpiece woman he was promised. Its her realizing she can’t have this and it’s all going to end when she gets home. 

She loves Gatsby and she loves being treated like a person, someone who can express herself and break golf clubs if she hits things wrong and she won’t get in trouble for it. But she made her bed and now she must lie in it, no matter how much she hates it and desperately wants to leave. You can’t read that in the book, it’s simply not there, but the actors bring the characters off the page, they give them compelling reasons to have actions, you understand their emotions significantly better. And it's beautiful.                         

 Reason Number 3 Why the Movie is Better: The music. The music is a mix of popular tracks by Beyonce and JZ but also by strong indie pop singers such as Lana Del Ray and Florence and the Machine. 

The story happened a long time ago and we can’t always sympathize or connect with things that happen a long time ago but some of the more modern “radio tracks” you could say, help express the decadent era as something we can understand. Fun, light hearted, mischievous and dramatic. And then the other tracks come in, Young and Beautiful as well as Over the Love and they’re so emotional and dramatic and heart wrenching that even though these are rich people and we associate them with those other light hearted tracks because “money buys happiness” these tracks come in and show you its the complete opposite. 

It’s a punch to the gut and the song sticks with you after the movie ends. This idea of money and decadence not being able to buy happiness is really what the whole story is about so the tracks support the main thesis so well in these subtle but powerful ways that I still listen to these soundtracks even now because they speak to a deeper part of the human condition. Its like even though the curtains have closed, humanity continues, life goes on and its tragic and brutal. 

There's also a line in Over the Love where Florence says “there's a green light in your eyes” and it connects to when Daisy goes to Nick’s house and they both go to Gatsby’s. There’s a scene where she says “I can see my house, just across the bay,” and he looks at her and the light reflects in his eyes in such a way that the blue looks green for just a moment and its symbolic. There’s the green light on her dock marking her as forever out of his reach, and there’s the green light in his eyes. He’s out of reach as well because she’s married and has children. They’re both out of reach and there's nothing they can do about it. 

The music brings it all together and I feel like I wouldn’t have noticed that little detail in that scene if the music hadn’t been filled with subtle nods to important parts of the story, just like the book has you read between the lines and make connections yourself, the music is the space between the lines. You have to really listen to it and if you do you feel like so much has been opened up to you, the movie is just as multifaceted as the book, you just have to give it the benefit of the doubt. 

[known-as-naya]

What’s your favourite thing about the Klebekah dynamic and your fave scenes? What was it that drew you to them

Thanks Yuki for asking this, it took me hours to think of all my fav scenes but it was worth it lol ❤️

My fav thing about the klebekah dynamic:

So, klebekah. I simply love them if it isn't obvious by now lmao, their codependent and dysfunctional toxic relationship fascinates me so much. They're litteraly the most important person in each other's life and I love that, I love how they understand one another with just a look, I love how they never gave up on each other for a thousand years despite all the betrayals, I love how they adore and worship one another, I LOVE THEM.

Rebekah was the person klaus loved the most in the world (besides hope ofc) it's actually funny how most of the fandom doesn't realize the impact she always had on him, she was his humanity for a thousand years, she was his constant (along with Elijah ) and he was hers, and as we saw on the show Rebekah was the person he showed affection the most.

As for rebekah, Klaus was the man she ADORED since she was a little girl, he was her big brother, the person she wanted to be like when she gets older, her protector, soulmate and best friend. Rebekah was the only person who never actually tried to change him, she loved him as he is during a thousand years and I LOVE THAT.

-The thing that drawn me to them:

Are a lot of things but THE CHEMISTRY was what made me fall in love, fun fact: but the first time I discovered klebekah I was watching a tvd scene on YouTube a couple of years ago and coincidentally it was their 3×03 Chicago flashback scene with Stefan, and I thought they were a sort of threesome of something lmao and when I knew they were siblings I was shocked but continued to ship them anyway cause why not.

What are your fav scenes ?

Oh boy, this is a very DIFFICULT question cause I practically love all their freaking scenes, but I eventually have to choose so there you go:

-I'll begin with tvd:

-There's 3×03, of course, THIS WHOLE EPISODE IS FULL OF INCEST. the "I'm not your girlfriend", the "choose him or me" Klaus' jealousy, the eye sex, the daggering session, the hand holding, EVERYTHING SCREAMED KLEBEKAH. This ep was such a strong introduction to their strange dynamic.

-3×04: my fav thing about this ep is Klaus taking rebekah to shop and being a child about it. He was so done with her already but at the same time so happy to have her around again. I loved the surprised expression on Stefan's face the whole time, he was not used to this side of Klaus, he was not used to Klaus being wrapped around someone's little finger. I loved their little conversation when she was trying that dress and she said something about women in the 21th century dressing like prostitues and that she got dirty looks for wearing trousers and then Klaus said you wore trousers so women today could wear nothing. Lmaooo it was hilarious.

- 3×15: "I hated you when I learned that you killed our mother but after a thousand years together as a family you're the only one who never left me "

" Aren't we a pair ?" THIS MF LINE GETS ME EVERYTIME. I don't have words to describe what it does to me but I love this scene and the fact that Klaus thought that rebekah was going to show him her torturer's skills makes it better.

-3×18: " you destroyed our family" "I wanted a family they just didn't want me, and now that we're unlinked we're no longer responsible for each other" "so are you leaving ?" "As soon as a get my stakes I'm gone..... I'm gonna make a NEW FAMILY of hybrids" "and if I choose to stay ?" "Then you're just as pathetic as Finn " THIS WHOLE scene was a masterpiece, them looking at each other like that makes me wanna give them a hug:

-3×20: it wasn't really a klebekah scene cause it was Esther in Rebekah's body but the way Klaus smiled at her and agreed to go to the dance JUST for her melt my heart.

-3×22: oh gosh this one, breaks my heart but love it so much " how dare you save Caroline over me ?" " You left me !" "it's always been me, not Finn not Elijah no Kol ME, I LOVED YOU through everything and you don't even care " and then he chokes her and say something he -IM SURE- regrets immediately "you know something rebekah you're right I don't care, from this moment on you're not my family you're not my sister you are nothing " and then he breaks her neck. I HATE THIS SCENE BUT I LOVE IT. these two needed couple therapy. Klaus was horrible, she watched him die, she mourned him, her heart broke. He could've told her about his plan tho ? I'm still wondering why he didn't but I guess he was just being an asshole as usual and took her as granted. And him saving Caroline over her was not it.

-4×04: the flashback hunter scene "YOU TRUSTED HIM OVER ME " "WHAT DID HE PROMISE YOU " "TELL ME REBEKAH " it was like he caught her cheating on him lmaooo. On the same episode there's the famous line "laugh at the girl who loved too easily but I would rather to live my life than yours Nik, no one will ever sit around a table telling stories about a man who couldn't love" the way he looked down after her saying that breaks my heart, cause Klaus could love, he LOVES her, then he daggers her -cause he's a paranoid bastard- and he cries about it.

-Let's switch to TO scenes:

-1×02: this episode is one of my favs but the best scene was when Klaus was choking Hayley after he learned that she wanted to abort the baby then, rebekah slammed him against the wall (it was hot tbh lmao) and she said "it's okay to care, it's okay to want something that's all Elijah was trying to do all he's ever wanted for you, all we've ever wanted." The way he looked her deep in the eyes gets me everytime, he was trying so hard not to cry. Then they sat together, exhausted, and Klaus told her about his plan -that involved giving Elijah to marcel lol- and if she doesn't like it, there's the door.

-1×03: one of my fav episodes too and it has so many good klebekah scenes, “that depends what plan you mean love my plan for global domination or rebekahs plan to find love in a cruel cruel world”  then she giggled and threw a pen at him so lovingly lol. They were teasing and all flirty with each other in front of Hayley and they acted as nothing happened the night before and Klaus never gave Elijah to marcel, after that they teamed up and everything was going fine but Klaus happened. then there's the masquerade ball scene when Klaus called rebekah " you really are a hideously evil little thing aren't you "

and them being jealous watching marcel and cami dancing. later in  this ep theres the famous “you disgust me” scene, the tension was so thick i acually thought they were about to kiss and have sex on that damn piano lmao but klaus as usual disapointed rebekah, she trusted him against all her better instincts and he choose to act against her back cause he thought his plan was smarter.

-I'm not sure in which episode this scene is but I remember Klaus telling rebekah "you were quite resourceful today..... sometimes I think I don't give you your due little sister" it was so cute cause Klaus knows that he doesn't give Rebekah enough credits, and she was so happy to hear him say that.

-1×14: the famous "YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM ME REBEKAH" this episode had me crying the first time I watched it, Klaus was so angry, disappointed and hurt, he could not believe that his baby sister did this to him, that he was in denial for almost a century and he for that she must pay. "Rebekah would not call my father no matter how angry she was " "enough of your lies" even after seeing the truth from the source he still couldn't believe it cause he loved her so freaking much and he thought she did too.

Then them fighting and Klaus getting turned on by her beating his ass up

-1×15: this mf scene.

The kiss, THE FREAKING CLOSE TO THE LIPS KISS. the sexual tension in this scene was HUGE, Klaus finally "set rebekah free" and he was DRUNK doing it. "We don't have to run anymore, we've found a home" and the look on Rebekah's face is priceless, she was shocked and almost guilty cause at this time she has already called mikeal and Klaus was a little too late.

Also in the same episode, THE BLOOD SHARING. Look at them just look at them.

-1×16:

THE BABY MIKAELSON FLASHBACK !! OMG, this scene melts my heart. "Don't be afraid I won't let it hurt you " "will you stay with me till the storm ends ?" And he did stay with her no matter what. I love this scene cause it shows how close and protective they were of each other since forever. Then he gives her the wooden knight so she can be brave. I'm soft.

Then there's this one too ! I love how Rebekah was actually the only one to ever stand against mikeal, she even tried to kill him, just for Klaus. So much devotion.

I'm still not over this one, the hurt on Rebekah's voice as she says those words, Klaus's tears, the whole episode was so angsty but this scene was IT. and then he realised what he did to her, that instead of protecting her he was hurting and suffocating her so he did something he's not used to do, being selfless, and he let her go.

The 1×22 scene: LITTERALY on top of my fav scenes list ! Klaus giving hope to Rebekah proved how much he trusted her "there's no one I would trust more with my daughter's life" and the fact that she came back just for him (and hope) proved that she never really wanted to leave, she just needed a little freedom. Then when he handed her the little toy I WAS IN TEARS OKAY, it was so soft. They were so happy and relieved to see each other again.

-2×09: "if anything goes south I'll be there to pull you out" "you and I on the same team it must me Christmas" he promised to protect her at any cost and she knew he will. Them teaming up against Esther was so great, then the "take me instead" , Klaus was WILLING to sacrifice his immortal life for REBEKAH, if this isn't pure love then I don't know what it is.

-2×17: another episode losing his shit because his wife-sorry sister is in danger. He let Freya enter his mind just to save her (and he was so suspicious about it cause he didn't want her to know his strategies but in fact he was just afraid she'll know about his questionable taste in woman lmaoo)

And this mf scene is so cute, look at their smiles, the forehead touch, his hand on her neck, here on his arm, FOR YOU FOR NOW. I can't believe this is actually canon.

-2×22: "family tradition!" "Minus the family."

"Well, you're here."" In the skin of your choosing, no less."

"Well, poor you. Because that body is such a hardship."

"You would hand over your crown? And do what?" "Raise my daughter... with the help of my sisters. One big, happy family."

" Now, that does sound grand-- minus the giant, Elijah-sized hole in the room. And, whilst your sisters raise your child, what will the child's mother be doing, exactly?"

"This, dear brother, is not what happiness looks like."

This scene was so important, Klaus was wrong and he needed someone to remind him that what he did was not necessary, that he hurt most of his family, and rebekah was there for that. He wished she'd stray with him to "raise" his daughter but after this scene we see Freya offering her Eva's body so she leaves.

-3×09: "you're always leaving" "and I always come back" THEN THE DAMN HUG. their hugs are always so good, the way they close their eyes and hold each other tight and they seem like they never want to let go of each other. Then she has to leave and make Elijah dagger her without telling Nik, cause she wants Nik to be happy for once.

-3×22: "wasn't you who once told me I could talk my way out of hell " and then they smile affectionately at each other and HUG tightly. After this he took her hand and they both walk to their possible end, and she watches him getting stabbed by marcel after she was forced to say all those things she did and didn't think. The whole trial scene was a masterpiece. I love it.

-4×02: this EP was full of klebekah soft scenes. There was the reunion HUG . the way she runs to him the second she sees him and the way he reaches to her and hugs her tightly to his chest.

The kiss on the cheek after "thank you for not abandoning me" and the way he smiles at her was so SOFT OMG.

-4×03: the goodbye hug "Nik you do not need me anymore, I know that I'm your fav sibling and of course I adore you" "you were the only one who never treated me like s misfit, for centuries my only place was by your side...." AND THEY HUG TIGHTLY AGAIN. this was the first time Klaus let Rebekah do whatever the hell she wanted without fighting or daggering and it was revolutionary to her. (The fact that she's his fav sibling and she KNOWS it makes me so happy lmao).

-5×01: their phone call about Elijah. They were both so lost and devastated without him it broke my heart. "How does he look?" "Happy.."

-5×08: "ah Nik always so dramatic"

They were so happy to be reunited after 7 years of being apart, look at them hugging each other so tightly. I LOVE this scene.

-5×12: then there's the goodbye scene, Klaus gave her the cure so he can make up for a thousand years of hurt, "live the life you've always wanted to live, MY SISTER" the way he looked at her so proudly, so in love makes me cry. In my opinion he gave her the cure so they can reunite again in the afterlife. Both him and Elijah can't live or die without her, they're supposed to be together, they're meant to be together and the cure will bring her to them, to him, again. It was such a good scene, the hug, the last glances, everything.

And that's it!!! I'm sure I forgot some other scenes but those are the most important. ❤️

[vampish-glamour]

Sometimes on this site I kinda feel like a bad lesbian because most of the celebrities that I like and for lack of a better term "obsess over" are men. I like them because theres something about their talents I admire or I just like them as people and I tend to get drawn to male celebrities (especially actors since my favourite characters tend to be men) instead of woman. Theres only ever been a handful of female celebrities that I've "obsessed over"

Omg honey you’re not alone!!! I’m really excited about this ask because I relate to what you’re saying so much. Like, I could’ve written it myself.

I try not to be insecure about it… because it probably does simply come down to the majority of my favourite characters being men. If I were to think up a list of my all time top 10 favourite characters (not including animated characters, because in that case I have a lot of Disney princesses/ladies that I adore)… off the top of my head 2-4 female characters come to mind. When I think of all my favourite shows/movies/musicals/etc, and pick a favourite character from each, about 95% of the time it’ll be a guy.

(Side note; this is actually really helpful when it comes to art… since the majority of my art is of women, so having a bunch of male characters lined up as my favourites kinda forces me to draw men and get the practice)

Idk why it is that I tend to be drawn more towards male characters…and that alone caused me some insecurity. So combined with tending to be drawn towards male actors as well, it’s kinda like a double whammy. It still makes me feel a bit insecure, if I’m being completely honest.

It really doesn’t mean anything, though. We aren’t “bad lesbians” for liking male characters and actors. Again idk why it is that’s the case, but it could be for a bunch of reasons. Maybe we tend to see ourselves or our ideal selves more in male characters, maybe it’s the separation from our attraction* that makes them more favourable, or maybe there’s a certain character archetype it is we like that we find more in male characters. (For example; I recently realized that a lot of the male characters I like have a fatherly figure/protective role aspect to them, and that’s something I guess I’m drawn to.)

*I want to go into this one a bit. I sometimes wonder if this has to do with the stigma against wlw attraction. Because it’s sort of drilled into sapphic’s minds that we’re dirty, perverted, and creepy for finding women attractive, and that we’re akin to predatory straight men just for being attracted to a woman. For me personally, I think that’s held me back from favouring and even “thirsting for” female characters in the way straight women do with male characters. Because it still on some level makes me feel bad.

Then there’s also the aspect of compulsory heterosexuality, where you sort of feel like you should be liking the men on screen, because that’s what women do.

So mix those two together, and you’ve got a mindset of “oh, that woman’s beautiful—shit I’m being predatory, I’m being gross. I should be saying that about the men, that’s what everyone else around me does” that follows you for a while.

That’s just been my personal experience. I’m still working on becoming fully comfortable with my lesbianism—it was only recently that I fully became comfortable again with the word “lesbian” itself. So now I’m really trying to get rid of all the left over subconscious thoughts that have been engrained in me for a while. And I find they really pop up when it comes to this sort of thing.

My point with this whole ramble is, that you aren’t alone here—I feel the same way. It doesn’t make you a “bad lesbian”, whatever that would mean anyways. It just means that for whatever reason, you’re drawn towards male characters. I’m sure there’s lots of straight women or gay men who are drawn towards female characters, or straight men who are drawn towards male characters. I mean, look at all the straight guys who love superheroes. Chances are, their favourite characters and actors are guys. That doesn’t make them “bad straights”, so why would the same for a woman make her a “bad lesbian”?

I find that this site, and social media in general, has a really weird view of sapphics and especially lesbians. It’s all pastel pinks, flowers, dancing in sunny meadows, “oh, that girl is so pretty her hair looks soft uwu”… it presents this softness, femininity, and desexualization that can make a lot of wlw feel bad about themselves for stepping outside it. So try not to take the image of lesbianism presented on social media seriously. It usually feels like a very soft/cute/pure aesthetic based thing, often with going on and on about how “pretty girls are”. You’re not a bad lesbian for not going on about how the women on tv are “sooo prettyyy”, I promise.

Thanks for sending this, it was really nice to ramble a bit about the topic! 💕💖💕💖