#WHY AM I LIKE THIS WHY DID MY BRAIN DO THIS TO ME

[justalittletotheleft]

my little friend that I play with keeps sending me your stories because she's clearly feeling jealous of the girls in your stories, I think that would make a cute story of a girl who shares this kind of stuff and tries to pretend that it's not absolutely what she wants. She has sent me the "check your pullup" hypno story about 5 times~

aweee that’s so cute! seems like someone’s too shy to admit they need to go back to the basics. here’s a little story for her, hopefully it’ll help her accept her inevitable decline back to diapers!

you stare at the photo confused. is that really what you look like? you look like such a baby! how didn’t you notice before?

a few months ago, you sent daddy some stories. harmless little stories about little girls (like you) being put back into diapers. it’s totally not something you’d want, you’re a big girl! you just though that uh maybe daddy would enjoy it?

after maybe one two many stories, daddy sent you some hypnosis files to listen to throughout the day. you can’t say no to daddy right? so you started listening to them, like a good girl!

it just seemed so natural, adding pull-ups to your shopping list, buying some cuter clothes from the little girls section, not even being alarmed when you’d wake up drooling with your thumb in your mouth!

every call with daddy now seemed to end in a soaked pull-up, but that’s what they’re there for right? he reassures you that “accidents happen”, and not to worry about unknowingly soaking your padding.

so when daddy texted asking for a pull-up check, you immediately got your camera open and snapped a photo. but you look so. babyish.

you’ve been walking around for days, hair in pigtails, clothes from the little girls section, all with a pull-up underneath. you remember getting some funny looks in public, you barely cared. but now, staring at yourself in the photo, you squirm and blush, you seriously look stupid, like an,oversized toddler! how did you leave the house like this?

your phone starts to ring before you can panic anymore. daddy’s calling! he can fix this! you pick up the phone without hesitation.

“princess, what’s taking you so long? your pull-ups not wet, is it?”

“no! course not daddy! i’m a big girl, it’s dry-“

you cut yourself off. hand on the front of your pull-up, you feel it expanding and growing warmer underneath your hand. you were wetting yourself. you could barely feel it.

“awww did you have an accident baby girl?”

daddy croons teasingly on the line.

“uh maybe…”

you hear him chuckle.

“that’s okay potty pants, why don’t you go change into one of those diapers you ordered the other day? you’ve been pottying in those pull-ups a bit to much lately!”

you whine. he’s not wrong. you haven’t had a dry night in weeks, and usually have at least one accident during the day.

“no! what did you do to me! i’m a big girl! why am i acting like a baby!”

you shake your head, trying to get the fuzzy feeling of daddy’s voice to stop.

“what do you mean sweetheart? this is what you asked for! daddy just followed all those cute little stories you sent him.”

“no daddy, those were a joke! just something you’d like, i don’t want to be a baby!”

you whine, moving in front of a mirror stare at the infantile girl in your reflection.

“you don’t have to lie princess. daddy knows what you really want, so go be a good girl and put on a nice thick diaper for daddy, mkay?”

you feel your brain get fuzzy. suddenly, your reflection doesn’t look so wrong. daddy’s right! you do want to be a little baby! why resist him?

“okay daddy!”

you toddle over to your diaper drawer, wet pull-up cooling between your legs.

“good girl, just sink deeper and deeper for daddy okay? i’ll send you some new hypnosis files right now baby, it sounds like you’re ready for phase two of your regression!”

[purple-obsidian]

Heyyyyy pookieeee-i saw your Jason todd fic and wanted to ask,what do you think he will be like teaching his gf how to drive?

(Because nobody in my freaking life taught me how to drive yet so I have to sit like a duck and wait for someone to pick me up when I wanna go somewhere pleaseeee let me drivee-)

be brave (jason todd x fem reader) wc 800

⭓ fluff isn't my normal cup of tea. but for you, pookie, i can make an exception ;) sorry this took a while to answer, hope you don't mind i made this specific to driving a motorcycle. that's just what felt right when i was meditating on this prompt so i went with it. enjoy.

"Jason, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"You second guessing me, princess?"

"Yeah, maybe I am. I could kill us!"

Jason scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "You think I would let that happen? Ever?" With cocky grin, Jason walks over and stares down at you, noting the apprehension on your face. "Remember the day we met? You told me you had a bucket list. Things you wanted to do before you died."

"Yeah, I only told you that because I thought I was going to die. You rescued me. I got plenty of time now, I don't have to learn how to drive tonight. Its already dark." You reach your hand up reflexively to rest against his chest as he gets closer. Its a habit of yours. You always find yourself drawn to the steady beating of his heart. Its grounding, and you need some of that right now.

"The road is well lit. We're miles from the outskirts of Gotham, no traffic out here. Just you and me, baby. Why not now?" His large hand rests over yours, pressing it more firmly against his chest. His heart is beating slow and steady, and his piercing green eyes are filled with admiration. "You and I both know that every day we have together is precious. Why wait to do the things you wanna do? Besides, I'd feel better knowing my girl can drive my bike if she needs to."

Jason knows you too well, calling you his girl like that makes you feel weak in the knees. Your own heart beats faster as you break your gaze away from your boyfriend smiling down at you, looking over at the motorcycle he brought you here on. For some reason, it looks more intimidating than it did a few minutes ago. You swallow the lump in your throat before looking back at him. "I'm nervous."

"I know." He states matter-of-factly. Of course he knows, he can read you like a book.

"I've literally never driven anything before. Like ever. I haven't even-"

"Shhh." Jason's hand leaves yours and cups your face gently. His other hand is on your waist, keeping you close. "You don't have to be good at it right away. I don't expect you to be. But you're smart. And you're perceptive. And I know after a little practice, you'll get more confident. I won't let us crash, baby, promise."

Jason really does know you too well. He can see the rebuttal forming on your lips before he finishes speaking. So he leans down to kiss it away before you can verbally express your doubts. The tinge of frustration you feel at being cut off isn't enough to keep you mind from turning to mush from the kiss. His lips are so warm, his breath tastes like spearmint, and his touch gives you butterflies.

But the kiss ends all too quickly. You know he cut it short it on purpose, not wanting your brain to turn off completely before you try and drive for the first time. "Sorry, babygirl, can't give you too much. How could you drive if you're all drunk from my kisses? Hm?"

He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in how cute you look when you're speechless. A moment later, Jason releases his hold on you and turns towards his bike, walking to it with a bit of pep in his step and smugness in his grin, leaving you stammering for a second as you try and string together a coherent thought.

"F-fuck you, Jason." You say after a moment. He always knows how to shut me up.

"I love you too." He grabs his helmet and puts it on before tossing you yours. It's an easy catch, but you're still giving him a dirty look.

"Why did we have to do driving first?" You grumble, accepting your defeat. "Pretty sure seeing the pyramids was also on my bucket list. Along with an abundance of other fun things, like riding in a helicopter, or swimming with dolphins. Or what about joining the mile high club? I'd think that one would be your first priority."

Jason is beaming, watching you put your helmet on and get ready to ride. Even as you scowl at him and mutter complaints, his heart melts at how easily you folded. All it took was a kiss. He always gets his way. He knows you can't say no to him. Jason Todd has you wrapped around his finger, and the vigilante couldn't be any happier about it. He looks you up and down to admire your body before replying, "Stick with me, princess, and I'll make all your dreams come true." He promises. "One at a time. I'll show you the pyramids. I'll fuck you in a plane. But first…"

He grabs you by your waist with both hands and effortlessly lifts you up off the ground to set you down on the seat of his bike. You yelp in surprise, quickly grabbing his hands to steady yourself. "First, you gotta be brave and learn how to ride your boyfriend's bike."

⭓ masterlist ⭓

[idkwhatever580]

Breaking up with you

Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader

Prompt: y/n is already having a bad day, what happens when she overhears Natasha and Clint’s conversation?

Warnings: angst but fluff at the end (don’t worry I am incapable of writing a sad ending 😭), swearing, breaking up, mentions of upcoming period, crying

Y/n’s pov

I wake up feeling clingy today. I don’t even know why it’s just one of those days.

I whine when I realize there is sun seeping in through the windows and onto my face so I flip around to find Natasha but she isn’t there.

I pout and reach for her until I find the end of the bed but no natty

“Natty?”

I mumble still with my morning sleepy voice.

No answer

Of course. She’s probably training. But she usually waits for me to wake up or at least leaves a note

I never did check if she left a note. So I look at both of our bedside tables. Nothing. I check my phone. Nothing. I get up to go to the bathroom. Not even a sticky note on the mirror.

Tragic

Maybe she got called on a last minute mission. No. She’d have someone tell me if she couldn’t tell me herself.

So why isn’t she here? I just want to cuddle with my girlfriend and eat takis.

Ohhhh. I get it now. I’m gonna start my period soon. I always crave takis when I’m about to be on my period. Which is probably also why I’m feeling so clingy.

So I check the time and shrug thinking what’s the worst that can happen if I eat a bag of takis for breakfast?

I grab one of the throw blankets as I pass the living room to the kitchen and walk into the pantry.

I look at my section and find the line of takis that says ‘OFF LIMITS I’LL BITE YOU!’ On its label. And I grab a bag happily knowing that nobody has tried taking them.

Except for Peter. Poor kid. I was actively on my period and he didn’t know since he was new. Ended up with his aunt laughing next to me when he was showing her the bite marks on his arm. She told him that he should have read the label.

I agree. Always listen when someone says they’ll bite you. They probably mean it.

Anyways. I go to the living room and plop down and then I say

“Friday?”

“Yes miss y/l/n?”

“Where is everyone?”

It’s a bit muffled since I’m stuffing my face with takis but Friday is able to understand.

“They are all in a meeting right now”

I furrow my eyebrows and say

“Without me?”

“It seems to be that way yes”

I frown and get up going to the meeting room.

##################

Natasha’s pov

We are having a meeting without y/n and suddenly Friday speaks up

“Miss y/l/n is on her way to the meeting room now. I would advise you hurry.”

We all scramble to change the scenery to make it look like a normal meeting about an upcoming mission.

Y/n walks in and says

“What’s going on guys?”

Wanda invades my brain and says

“Ignore her. Do not say a thing. I’ll handle it”

I nod once. I don’t really need to ignore her, but it fuels the fire I guess.

Wanda speaks up finally

“Oh we’re just having a meeting about our next mission. We decided to let you sleep in since your skill set isn’t required for this one.”

She shrugs her shoulders and says

“Okay. Hi nat”

She smiles and waves before leaving and I don’t say a thing.

Once she’s gone and Friday says that she is not coming back we let our breaths out and tony says

“That was a close one”

##################

Y/n’s pov

I sit back down and start to overthink.

I usually am able to keep my thoughts at bay but today is just not my day. So I get lost in my head.

Why did nat not say anything? She always says something. Always makes an effort to get up and show me some affection. Maybe it’s an off day for her too. Sometimes she doesn’t like to be affectionate and maybe that’s why.

I break myself out of my head when some of the avengers come tumbling into the room.

Nat is not one of them so I say

“Where’d nat go?”

A bunch of them shrug but Wanda says

“I think she might have gone upstairs.”

I nod my head and say in a slightly more hushed tone just to Wanda

“Did she seem off?”

Wanda shakes her head and says

“No? Why?”

I say

“Oh”

And shrug my shoulders and pick myself up

“No reason. Just wondering. Thanks!”

So I head upstairs and find Natasha in our room. She’s sitting on the bed and reading a book.

“Hey baby! You didn’t leave a note telling me where you were”

I fake pout at her and she doesn’t do anything just mumbles a quick apology.

I try to get a conversation going.

“No it’s okay baby. I just got a little lonely for a sec.”

She ignores me but I can’t catch a signal so I keep trying.

“What are we doing today?”

She just ignores me again and I sigh and say

“I guess that book is real good. I’ll leave you to it. I think I left my takis in the living room anyways. So I’ll be down there probably on my phone if you need me. I love you”

She doesn’t even say I love you back to me.

Alright. Im a bit hurt by that one. But nevertheless I do what I said I would.

I finished my bag of takis a while ago and I’m falling asleep on this couch. It’s definitely not as comfortable as nats arms but she probably needs space. Maybe the meeting made her have a few flashbacks or something.

Whatever it is I’ll give her enough space to process it.

My thoughts are cut off when the sweet escape of sleep overtakes me.

…

I wake up about an hour later and find that someone had put a blanket over me while I was out. Thanks.

I get up and go to our room hoping nat is ready to talk now. But she’s not there when I get there so I go in search of her.

After a while I find her in Clint’s room but I don’t go in. They’re talking and for some reason I get the urge to eavesdrop. So I do.

“Well you have to say something. You can’t just be leading her on. It’ll hurt her worse.”

“I don’t know Clint”

“Nat. I think you should just tell her”

Wait. Are they talking about me?

“How am I even supposed to go about that? I mean. It’s gonna be so awkward! Not to mention it’ll break the poor girl’s heart”

“Well sometimes you have to do things that aren’t comfortable for you.”

“Okay so I have to go and tell this girl who is head over heels for me that I’m not?! I mean. It’s so obvious right?”

“It is pretty obvious that you don’t like her”

“Yeah well she’s clearly not catching any signs. She’s really naive and besides, I’m literally-”

Fuck this shit.

I walk back to our room to get away from it all.

I can’t even handle this right now. My own girlfriend isn’t in love with me anymore. Of course.

Just when I think she’s in it with me forever. She doesn’t even like me.

And I’m so stupid to not notice that she was feeling this way. I’m probably holding her back.

This is bullshit. Why today? Why me?

I sulk in my room for a while and then I realize that I should surprise her and break up with her first. It’ll make it easier anyways.

I huff and decide to finally get dressed. I probably shouldn’t break up with her in my stitch pajamas.

So I change into some decent clothes and make sure I look presentable. Then I once again go in search of my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

This time I find her in the living room. I stand tall and say

“Natasha”

She ignores me. Fucking bitch. At least get the balls to break up with me. I’m having to do it for you.

“Natalia”

I use her name and she looks at me. Her face is still but I know she’s listening.

“May I have a word with you? Alone”

I emphasize the alone part and she nods her head softly. We walk in silence to our room and I close the door behind me.

We stare at each other for a second when she breaks the silence

“You wanted to tell me something? Is everything alright?”

I cross my arms and say

“No everything is not alright. I just want to say a few things and then I’ll be on my way.”

She nods her head and quirks a brow. I know she notices my standoffish behavior.

“I’m breaking up with you”

I tell it to her blunt. And her face goes through so many emotions before she’s able to say

“What?!”

I look at her and say

“You heard me”

She shakes her head to break out of her thoughts and she says

“Yes I heard you but you can’t be serious right?”

I narrow my eyes at her and give her a nasty look and say

“What? Didn’t see it coming?”

She shakes her head and says

“Wha- wh- why?”

I roll my eyes and say

“You act like you didn’t want this in the first place. There’s a few things you should know. Im not naive. I’m not oblivious. And I’m not your girlfriend. Don’t worry. I made it easy for you now you don’t have to break my heart.”

She tears up and before she can make her case I walk out. I don’t want to hear it.

And I’m about to break down. So I quickly walk to Wanda’s room and storm in.

She stands up quickly and vision, who was sitting on the bed with her watching sitcoms, makes a speedy exit upon seeing my state.

“What’s wrong?”

I sniffle and try to hold back my tears and I say

“I broke up with Natasha”

“WHAT?!”

I start completely sobbing by now. Wanda picks me up and carries me into her bed and she comforts me until I can speak in full sentences again.

“Okay what happened? I thought she was your endgame”

I nod and say

“She was. Until I heard her talking to Clint earlier”

She furrows her eyebrows and says

“What did you hear?”

I tell her about the conversation I overheard and she squints analyzing my retelling.

“Is it okay if I call Clint in here? It sounds like you didn’t get the full story and I want to hear another side to it”

I shrug my shoulders and nod my head so Wanda texts him. After a few minutes he comes in with an angry face and a wet patch on his shoulder.

Great. Natasha’s already gotten to him.

“Why would you do that y/n?!”

Wanda cuts him off and says

“Hold on Clint. Before we get to that we need to hear something from you okay? So calm down”

Wanda explains to him what I’ve told and he sighs. Then he starts chuckling softly and then full on laughing and I frown and say

“What’s so funny!?”

He shakes his head and says

“Y/n. Natasha wasn’t talking to me about you. She was talking to me about Reese. The new intern. She’s been all over Natasha recently and cannot pick up any signs. If you had stayed a second later you would have heard Natasha say ‘and besides. I’m literally in love with y/n’ and none of this would have happened.”

I look down a little embarrassed.

“I guess sometimes I get a little bit angry. I didn’t even think.”

He nods his head and pats my shoulder and says

“I think you should go and fix this.”

I nod my head and go to his room where Natasha is.

I knock softly and say

“Nat?”

She jumps up and wipes her tears trying to seem strong and says

“Oh. What’s up. Did you need me to get my things?”

I shake my head and say

“I’m so sorry baby. I was eaves dropping on your conversation with Clint earlier and I missed some parts and thought you were talking about me! So I got angry and sad and then I was like ‘well if she’s thinking about doing it to me I’m gonna do it first’ because I was protecting myself from the inevitability of a heart break. I love you so much and I just was scared. I didn’t even think to ask you about it first and I’m sorry I was just being sensitive today and I had no idea! I am so sorry and I compl-”

Natasha cuts off my ramble with a kiss and I obviously kiss back.

We somehow end up half way making out until Clint says

“Hey! Not in my room you fucking horndogs!”

We pull away and giggle and Natasha grabs my hand and pulls me to our room and I say

“I’m sorry”

She shakes her head and says

“Y/n when you said that to me it made my heart split in two. I love you entirely too much to make the mistake of letting you go. I’m sure I would have come after you if it weren’t for my initial shock. I guess I just thought we were so endgame that the thoughts of a breakup would have never crossed my mind.”

I smile and say

“I’m sorry.”

Then all of a sudden I get nervous and play with my hands and look at the ground and she says

“What’s on your mind sweetheart?”

I bite my lip and say

“Since I um. Since I broke up with you like thirty minutes ago will you- um- will you be my girlfriend again?”

She laughs and says

“Yes of course baby”

I smile and say

“Sorry. It felt informal to not ask.”

She cups my face in her hands and says

“Next time let’s talk about it before we go breaking up with each other yes?”

I nod my head and say

“Sorry. I think I’m starting my period soon so I’m kind of having some fog brain.”

She nods her head in understanding and I say

“Now that we’re okay, can I have cuddles?”

She smiles and says

“Yes dorogoy. Of course we can.”

I smile and then say in a teasing tone

“This is actually your fault”

She scoffs as I cuddle next to her and plays along

“How is this my fault?!”

“You didn’t leave a note for me this morning.”

She rolls her eyes and says

“I am sorry baby. I was rushed out of bed and it slipped my mind. I guess it’s because I usually don’t have meetings without you so I forgot”

I nod my head and say

“You forgort”

I giggle a bit and she says

“You and your fricken vocal stims.”

I smile and say

“I think I’m pretty cool”

She smiles and says

“The coolest. Now let me cuddle my girlfriend in peace”

I smile and pull her super close to me. Then push her away as a joke and half way yell

“Leave room for Jesus!”

She rolls her eyes and says

“Come here.”

I get closer and say

“I love you”

She smiles and says

“I love you too”

##################

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346

A/N: sometimes I’ll use the most random things to separate my section 😭

[secretjules]

☆, 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂 ,☆

in which the brothers have a sixth sense, telling them you're in distress. or... the brothers have spidey-senses.

Pairing: Lucifer x gn!reader

Warnings: a rat.

AN: these won't be coming out in order. you can thank my brain for that!

Characters: Lucifer (you're here!) ... Mammon (coming soon) ... Leviathan (coming soon) ... Satan (coming soon) ... Asmodeus (coming soon) ... Beelzebub (coming soon) ... Belphegor (coming soon) Dateables coming soon...

obey me masterlist | main masterlist

Lucifer had been at his desk since returning from RAD when Diavolo approached him, asking for help with paperwork. Reluctantly agreeing, knowing Diavolo should handle it himself, he found himself amidst a pile of documents needing revision by tomorrow afternoon.

He had worked through half the stack, pausing only for dinner, bathroom breaks, or to scold his brothers. Well past midnight, an unusual exhaustion and a looming migraine plagued him. Rubbing his temples, he continued with his pen, suddenly feeling a chill down his spine—a feeling that drew him to check the kitchen. Perhaps Beel was sneaking another midnight snack? Ignoring his fatigue, he headed downstairs, intending to give Beel a piece of his mind.

Approaching the kitchen, an eerie silence surrounded him, broken only by faint huffs and whispers inside. “whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck,” a voice muttered urgently.

“Mc, what are you doing here so late?” he called out sternly, eyes adjusting to find you huddled on the counter. “Why are perched on the counter?”

“I wanted water, but then that thing showed up behind me,” you whispered hastily. Lucifer followed your gaze, spotting a sizable rat staring from the floor.

“You're on the counter clutching a ladle because of a rat?”

“Where I come from, rats aren't this gargantuan!” you retorted, not amused by Lucifer’s playful tone. He smirked before scaring off the rat, earning a disbelieving look from you. Was he seriously letting it go? You swung your legs down as the creature scurried away. “Are you just letting it run off?”

“No, I’ll have Barbatos handle it,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh great, as if my suffrage wasn’t enough; now you're dragging poor Barb into it,” you hopped off the counter, grabbing your glass of water before turning to him. “Why did you come down here at this hour?” You checked the kitchen clock, realizing with a small gasp that it was 2 AM.

“To be honest, I felt compelled to come. It was... intriguing,” he explained, guiding you out of the kitchen and into the hall, his touch lingering on the small of your back.

“You so sensed I was in danger.”

“Sure I did,” he cracked a small smile, quickly glancing behind him—hoping you hadn’t caught his amusement at your less-than-hilarious joke that still managed to tickle him. “Almost like spidey-senses.”

“Spidey, what?"

obey me masterlist | main masterlist

[bambisnc]

i'm like some kind of supernova [ft. u.ae]

⤷ pov : literally all of the clocks of your house stop working and a random girl falls into your house?? she says she's like .. a goddess?? and now you've agreed to help her find her colleagues that disappeared?? or else she might torment you for all your life???

pairing : timekeeper!giselle x reader genre : serious codedish + crack cw/tw : talks about dying/not dying + giselle talks old timey-ish for a couple mins + lowk this is a fever dream + uneditted womp womp wc : 914 woooo !!

the strange quiet should’ve tipped you off.

when you woke up from an (unusually) dreamless sleep, your first instinct was to fight the urge to look at your phone and instead focus on the digital clock situated to the left of your bed. 

you were trying to make a conscious effort to “stop being dependent on your phone” and metaphorically touch grass.

and, obviously, that was your first mistake. 

the flashing numbers of the screen looked back at you, almost defiantly. 00.30.

one look at the sunlight streaming in through a conveniently located window proved that incorrect immediately. 

the clock appears to be broken.

pretty normal occurrence, could happen to anyone.

but when you venture out to the dining room, another clock, one of the analog variety, proudly displays the hour hand at 1 and the minute hand at 8. 

the clocks in the living room, guest room and kitchen all respectively seem to believe it’s around 2.45, 3.06 and 4.58 am respectively.

you can no longer put this off to a coincidence and the realization that there may be some foul play at work shakes you to the core. 

until, of course, there is a loud BANG! and a girl falls right on top of you. 

by then, your only coherent thought is AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

the girl groans, likely in pain from the fall (where did she fall from??? is she a neighbour and did your ceiling just … break down??). she’s quick to regain composure however.

“greetings mortal. be not afraid for i am merely a being that most humans desire to have control over, despite knowing how utterly unattainable it is.

i am giselle; the keeper of time, in its purest essence.”

“your name tag says uchinaga aeri though.” you gesture with your eyes as she still has your arms pinned down with just enough strength to render them completely immovable.

“and also,” your fight or flight reaction shows itself by a means of ceaseless curiosity, “isn’t time supposed to be .. an old bearded man holding an hourglass? wasn’t he called father time?

the time keeper/uchinaga aeri/giselle/ looks pissed. or is she just flustered??

“the name tag is just a slight error, okay?! and i actually DO have an hourglass. also assuming that time is “male” is sexist.”

“no that’s not what i meant-” you try to defend yourself, but she brushes it off with practiced ease.

“my colleagues and i recently faced a … misfortunate incident. they all disappeared soon after.  the thorough investigations i carried out right after lead me nowhere for quite a while. 

but now… my sources have led me to you, mortal.”

the way aeri giselle speaks is enough to show you that she would not hesitate to resort to any means necessary to bring back the people she’s lost. they are obviously much more to her than just “colleagues.” 

you admire that. but also … according to her “sources” doesn’t she think that you are the one responsible for the disappearances? 

giselle’s grip on your hands eases only slightly while your brain busily tries to make sense of the events; wondering if she perhaps terrified you into silence. 

you do not let that opportunity go to waste.

with a slightly awkward, not as suave movement as you would have liked it to be, you flip over so that the timekeeper is now below you. 

“mortal?!” she gasps out, “you dare manhandle one of the 4 Supernovas, the guardians of the universe?! why i should-”

“hear me out please, before you burn me to a crisp or whatever you’d like” 

giselle’s eyes twinkle. 

she snaps her fingers. and all the lights blink out.

you find yourself … in your bedroom? almost like you’ve been sent back in time to earlier the same day…

the time keeper sits at the edge of the bed, rather nonchalantly, for someone who looked like they were merely seconds away from..

“letting you age and age and age some more, until all that’s left of you is a shriveled husk and all you can think of is the sweet release of death; but alas you’ll never find respite, because i will simply ensure that you remain undying. i think that’s what i’ll do to you if you don’t cooperate <3 arson’s not really my thing, ningning however,-”

you interrupt her once more, probably not the best decision but you need to make your offer as soon as possible if you have any hopes of getting out of this alive, “i’ll help you.”

“what…?”

you ramble on about how all the clocks had stopped working and how you were 99% sure that this meant you were definitely a key part in helping to find the people who had disappeared.

it almost feels like an interview; trying to convince giselle to hire you as a helper and also, as a side bonus, not torment you for all of eternity. 

and surprisingly, it works.

as you’re ending your pitch, she suddenly leans forward so that her forehead almost touches yours. 

“rest up for now, then.” she says, “you need all the energy you can get for our mission. and if you even think of backing out…”

“i won’t!!” you affirm quickly, which makes her smile and

god she’s really pretty isn’t she? 

—

beep. beep. beep.

the digital clock on your bedside says it’s 00.30. 

you grab your phone.

the Contacts app opens up. the first saved number is of a certain timekeeper.

o giselle (NOT aeri.) xxxxxxxxxx

notes : I HATE THE TITLEEE IM MIGHT CHANGE IT IDK THO + [m.list] song rec : man idk i was js watching danny gonzales videos/horror video game playthroughs + supernova - aespa???

𐙚 . regulars : @skriri ⋆

[saintobio]

Hi saint! God you have no idea how much I wanted to go home after seeing you updated. You’re basically the only one with notifs on bc I cant, CANT, miss an update from my fave fic of all time (fears for my life bc you said it doesnt get better til chapter 14)

Anyway, this is not really a theory, but im curious as to what transpired between mc and toru the morning after their confrontation. Why did gojo leave? Did they fight? Did mc force him to leave to go to akemi to lessen her feelings of guilt?

Anyway, why do i have a feeling that akemi could, COULD, be 🤰? bc if my memory is correct, I recalled one scene where they woohooed with akemi saying she wanted no protection on? And since i do work on a medical field, it is possible for cramps when implantation happens (mc will have the heart attack of her lifetime istg). Although it could also be bc of her condition bc it wasnt really really explicitly stated in one chapter they woohooed without protection on (my memory is foggy bc i never reread chapters where they woohooed. I feel mc’s pain 🥲🥲) but why do i also have a feeling mc could be pregnant too

👁️👄👁️ bc they did have sachiro after woohooing in the first few chapters of SN (theyre both so fertile skdhjssk). Also, I feel like mc’s heart condition is coming back :((( after chapter 10 where she was pounding her heart to stop the pain, I can only imagine her angina waiting in the corner ;((

There’s only a few remaining chapters left (💔) but theres still so much drama and tension left unresolved (Gem still doesnt know they 👉🏽👌🏽) I thank you from the bottom of my heart that you continuously grace us with your writing. There are only a few fics that really made me feel the pain and surely your writing will always be at the top of a godtier list when it comes to giving heavy angst (i can only hope they have a HEA and have a new kid bc i really wanna see satoru redeem himself as a father 🥲🥲) I will surely miss this series when it ends and I will surely reread this when I am feeling the blues and just want to cry. Your brain and hands work wonders and I hope people here would also learn that waiting for the next update is definitely worth it (please stop pressuring her for new updates :(( saint gives her entire heart writing this. The wait is so so worth it).

And before this ends I would like to ask mc and satoru what are their current thoughts are after their 😏 hot steamy confrontation (I WAS SO HAPPY THEY FCKED TBH) no pressure if they wont answer hehe. Thank you for giving us SN and SY, Saint! I will look forward to future fics from you. Sending you much love and I hope and pray that you get all your heart’s desire 💛💛💛💛

hello loveee!! those are really good questions and thank you so much for ur kind words 🥹 i recognize ur blog bc you’ve been a longtime reader of mine, so happy to still see u here <3 anyway, your theories:

1. the morning after, gojo and yn are already having an emotional exchange (kinda) thats why yn was already crying when akemi caught them!

2. what i can only say is akemi’s pelvic pain situation is there for a specific reason :)

3. their families (gen, momjo, etc) will be back soon, it’s total chaos

4. while doing it? they’re definitely going crazy for each other. next morning is all guilt !!

[dira333]

It is what it is - Tendou x Reader x Ushijima (platonic)

Another one of my "this is my boyfriend and this is my boyfriend's best friend" fics. This has been going round and round in my head the whole weekend, I hope I could put all the feeling into this that I felt about it. Tell me what you think.

Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain and @satorisoup because in a way, it's Tendou

“Aren’t you worried people are going to call you out for this?” Satori asks, teasing lilt in his voice. “Flying all the way to Paris for a haircut?”

“I don’t care,” Wakatoshi exclaims, bathing in your joyful giggling and Satori’s amused snort.

“Whatever you say. I’ll see you after work, okay?” The redhead brushes a hand over his buzzcut before leaning over to kiss you - Wakatoshi averts his eyes on instinct.

“See you later. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hold Satori’s hand all the way to the door, watch him step into the elevator before you turn back.

“Alright, now that we’re on our own. What do you want me to do with your hair? Some color? A buzzcut?”

“The usual,” he asks, closing his eyes when you pat his shoulder. 

There’s so much understanding in your words, your action, the simplest touch.

Oh, how he’s missed you.

-

“Wakatoshi, stand straight,” his mother orders. His father’s hands are warm on his shoulders as he stiffens, posture perfect now.

“This is my good friend,” she explains just seconds later and Wakatoshi can see it, in the harsh lines and the absence of a smile.

“And this is her daughter. It would make us very happy if you two would marry one day.”

“Love-” His father says in that tone he uses when he asks his mother to change her mind on something. She rarely listens.

“Of course, nothing will be settled until you are older,” she speaks over him yet again. “But I am sure you two will be fast friends.”

The adults leave them alone after that, with nothing but a plate of healthy snacks and glasses of water.

You are nice to look at, he thinks. Unlike your mother, you’re curves and softness, eyes glittering as you shyly ask what he likes to do in his free time.

“My father plays Volleyball with me sometimes,” he explains, “Or I read.”

“Could you show me?” You ask, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you wait for his answer.

“The books or Volleyball?” He asks, not really understanding. He’s not good at reading between the lines, as his mother calls it. He hopes you won’t mind.

But your face lights up at his question, a sight he wants to see again.

“Both?” You ask and when he nods and turns to show you to his room first, your hand shoots out to curl into his, warm and small and soft.

He can’t remember the last time he held someone’s hand, but he squeezes yours like his father used to do with his and your smile tells him what he did was the right thing.

-

“Is this okay?” You ask, soft voice floating around him as you drag a comb through his hair.

“It always is,” he answers, stilling as you move to assess your work.

“It looks good,” you decide finally, smiling as you grab a mirror, making a show of presenting it. “You look good, Toshi.”

“You look better,” he insists, but it sounds foreign in his mouth. 

He’s not one to compliment someone’s appearance and he can see the surprise in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes immediately, “It’s something I heard Satori say.”

“I thought it sounded familiar,” you agree easily before patting his cheek. “I sometimes lend sentences from him as well.”

“Pray tell.”

You smile, handing him the mirror again. “First you have to tell me how it looks.”

“Perfect,” he says, because it is. He looks the way he’s used to, the same haircut he’s had for years. You embrace routine as much as he does. Maybe that’s why the two of you clicked so well.

“Now,” you smile, “I’ll make us some tea. I’m sure I still have some sweets hidden where Satori won’t look if you want them.”

“I’d rather have something healthy,” he admits and your smile doesn’t flicker, it grows.

“Like the old days,” you agree easily.

It warms his heart that you remember the beginnings of your friendship as well as he does.

-

“Are you leaving?” Satori asks, looking up from his Shonen Jump.

“Yes,” Wakatoshi agrees, tying his shoelaces. “I will be back before lights out.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Satori laughs, “I’m curious. Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting with a friend.”

“Do I know him?”

“No, you don’t know her.”

The surprise is loud on his face, dark eyes widening.

“A girlfriend?” Satori gasps, hands pressed against his lips in excitement. 

“A friend that’s a girl,” Wakatoshi corrects. For a second he stills, doorknob in his hand. “Do you want to join us?”

Satori blinks. Once, twice, three times.

“Are you sure?”

“No. But I think she might like you.”

“In that case… give me five minutes.”

“I’ll inform her that we’ll come in later.”

“We won’t be late if we run,” Satori sings, diving into his closet to pull out something to wear that doesn’t wear the Shiratorizawa emblem.

.

Wakatoshi is usually blind to social cues, no matter how much he studies them. He still can’t read between the lines, but he can’t say he’s given it much thought lately.

He’s good at Volleyball and he’s excelling in his studies. What else is there in life?

You’ve never complained about him missing something either, clearly content with the state of your friendship. And if there’s someone’s opinion he cares about, it’s not his mother's, it’s yours.

But he can see it now, written in bold letters on your face, your eyes, the shiver of your hesitant smile.

You look at Satori like the girls from his class look at him before he begins to speak.

Your hand twitches as if to hold his but you hesitate.

He turns to look, surprised to see his only other friend just as changed.

Satori is supposed to be the confident one. Loud and unapologetically himself.

This Satori, however, is blushing, staring at the tips of his sneakers only for his eyes to flicker upwards and back to you for only a second before looking back down. 

Is this, Wakatoshi thinks, a little dumbfounded that it’s happening in front of him of all people, is this falling in love?

-

It’s cold, even for Spring in Europe. You curl further into the warmth of your jacket, hands stuffed into the pockets to keep warm.

The day had been bathed in a grey light that’s now dimming fast, street lamps and the warm glow of shop windows battling against the coming night.

Wakatoshi’s hand reaches out without a thought, folding around yours like he used to when you were little.

You look up with surprise and he’s not sure if he should regret this or not.

“You’re worried,” you tell him, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “I can see it now. I was wondering what was wrong, but you wouldn’t say and I didn’t want to push.”

He opens his mouth to insist that he’s fine, a lie he’s been telling himself for weeks now, almost mastering to make himself believe it.

“Don’t lie, Toshi,” you ask and it’s the nickname that unravels him, a memory from long forgotten times resurfacing.

“I love you,” he admits, words spilling out of him like Volleyballs out of an upturned cart. They’re unstoppable, now that they’ve been set free.

But your smile doesn’t fade and your hand only squeezes his.

“I know, Toshi.”

His eyes flicker to the dark asphalt and back up.

“But Satori-”

“You don’t love me like Satori loves me, do you, Toshi?”

Your voice is warm and comfortable, like a blanket he wants to curl into.

“I don’t know,” he admits, because this is you. He’s always been honest with you.

“But I do,” you tell him softly, reaching up to cup his cheek with your other hand. “You’ve never looked at me in that way. We both know it, Satori and I, we both know you. What is worrying you?”

The question hits him like one does a tuning fork, everything in him vibrating to the point he fears he’ll fall apart. 

“I miss you,” he says, his voice carrying something he cannot begin to describe.

Hurt, loneliness, despair, insecurity. Will I ever be enough?

“Oh Toshi,” you rub your thumb under his eye, catching a tear that must have slipped out. “We miss you too. But we love you, okay? And even though it feels like that sometimes, you’ll never be alone.”

He considers it, smoothes it over the open wound inside of him like one does with a balm.

Another voice pops up, cuts through the noise inside his head like a warm knife through butter.

“There you are. I was looking for you.”

They both turn and Wakatoshi isn’t sure what he anticipates to see in his best friend’s face.

Anger, maybe, or betrayal. 

Not this kind of soft worry he isn’t used to.

You say something in French he doesn’t quite catch and Satori steps closer, wraps one impossible long arm around his shoulders, and curls into him.

“Can’t fool us, big boy,” he says with a voice so warm it feels like hot chocolate tastes, “Knew something was up when you asked to travel all the way here for a haircut.”

It might look strange to someone looking in, the three of them hugging in the cold night on the middle of the sidewalk.

But it’s not strange to Wakatoshi.

He should have known. These are his friends. His family. 

His home away from home.

-

“Is this really okay?” Satori asks, kneeling on the floor next to Wakatoshi’s bed. “You’ve got to be honest with me here, okay?”

“I am.”

“I am going to marry her if you let me, you know this!”

“I’d be happy if you did,” Wakatoshi insists. “If she wants you, that is.”

Satori snorts but it sounds more like a sob. “You think she likes me?”

“She said so, didn’t she?”

“Yeah,” the word is more a dreamy sigh than anything else. Satori puts his head back and stares up at the ceiling. 

“I didn’t know people like her existed,” he says, voice far away. Wakatoshi turns to look at him. 

“Girls?” He asks, a little confused.

“Kind people,” Satori explains, “with a good heart. Who don’t judge about someone’s looks.”

“Did that happen to you?” Wakatoshi asks, thinking about himself and his mother and you.

There’s something in Satori’s eyes, something vulnerable and open that he hasn’t seen before.

Wakatoshi pats the bed next to him before he can pull himself away again. Satori is nice. He wants to know him.

“Tell me about it?” He asks.

.

“You’re not good with social cues, are you?” Satori asks one day after lunch, walking back to Class.

“No.”

“The girl that was talking to you, she wanted me to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because she likes you. She wanted to be alone with you.”

Wakatoshi stops, freezing in place.

“What?” Satori asks, walking back to him. “What are you thinking about?”

“Do you want to be alone?”

Satori understands immediately. “Sometimes, yeah. But I’d tell you that, you know? Right now we barely manage to hold hands without our faces combusting. And I like having you there. She does too, I know.”

“How?”

“She said so,” Satori pulls out his phone, drags his thumb across the screen for a minute before he holds it up for Wakatoshi to see.

It’s an entire conversation he’s not been part of, your blocks of texts interspersed with the emojis Satori likes to use.

But he can read it, black letters on a white background.

“Wakatoshi is the most important person in my life.” It warms his heart like hot chocolate on a cold night.

“And since you’re my best friend too,” Satori singsongs, “You’re not getting rid of either of us.”

“Good,” Wakatoshi nods and repeats it once more for good measure. “Good.”

-

“Poland is not that far away,” you point out over morning coffee. Your hair’s a mess and you sit in Satori’s lap, leaning back into him every few minutes to remind him to feed you one more bite of the croissants Wakatoshi bought on his morning run.

“It’s not France.”

“Yeah, but the French team sucks,” Satori exclaims, “You’d lose all happiness playing for them just to be close. The Polish team sounds good if you ask me. And it’s really not that far. You could come over once or twice a month depending on your schedule.”

“I’ll think about it,” he agrees, buying himself some time with a sip from his coffee.

His wound is still open, though it has stopped bleeding.

“Do you think I’ll find someone,” he asks, yet again unable to keep the words inside before he has thought them through.

Satori and you both turn your heads to the side as you think, a habit that started with one person but he’s no longer sure with whom.

“Maybe you will,” you say, “maybe you won’t. You can be happy either way.”

“Don’t lose sight of what’s important to you,” Satori adds, “because it can be easier than you think. To give up on a boundary just because you think you have to.”

He considers that for a second.

“If I’ll never find someone-” Your hand finds his before he’s able to finish the sentence, squeezing as hard as you can.

“You’ll never be alone,” you insist. Satori’s larger hand wraps around yours until again, you are three.

- - -

The French Countryside is not a bad place to retire.

“Look what I found,” Satori raises a basket full of fruit, each looking better than the last, “everything from our own garden.”

“I thought you wanted to work less,” Wakatoshi comments, picking a plump apricot from the basket and biting into it. It’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“Ah, this isn’t work,” Satori insists, but he puts the basket down, pressing a hand to his back for a second. “I just need to slow down a little.”

“You should,” Wakatoshi agrees, but makes no move to pick up the basket himself. His back is even worse than Satori’s.

“Boys, boys,” your voice comes from inside, “Leave the hard work to someone younger. I’ve made coffee and tea, what do you want?”

They turn and walk inside, Satori singing yet another made-up song about the market in the village.

When he reaches you, he kisses your temple first and then your lips, squeezing your hips under the apron.

Wakatoshi has gotten used to the sight after decades. He’s more interested in his coffee and maybe the morning paper.

“Has anyone seen my glasses?” He asks, squinting down at the paper. 

Satori laughs. “On your head,” he tells him, but stays where he is, glued to your side.

It’s like this everyday and if someone would dare to ask, Wakatoshi wouldn’t mind living like this for another decade or two.

After all, one hasn’t lived before turning one hundred.

My Kofi if you'd like to tip me

[realsafari]

actual thing that happened yesterday

me, finishing a rant about a fic i read: so yeah, the reason that he's such a well thought out and developed character, despite his appearance as a stereotypical cliché, is why he deserved a more powerful death than what we saw. It is also important to note that-

my horse i'm talking to: ...

horse: *nudges my hand as i absentmindedly pet him*

me: -and THATS why i am SO PISSED at the author for DESTROYING MY little meow meow's happiness despite the GLARING LACK of an angst tag-

horse: *snorts because a fly landed on nose*

me: oh my god, you're so right slim! *proceeds to feed him a peppermint* thats my good boy~

slim: *tosses his head because he likes mints*

me: oh yeah did i tell you about that one time-

my brain: ah yes. talking in detail to a horse, which has a brain not larger than a walnut shell, about complicated topics related to literature, is a completely normal and sane thing to do.

my friend standing behind me who came to watch me compete in my jumper competition: okay blue, what the FUCK are you on.

[artsyunderstudy]

Six Sentence Sunday

Hellooo friends. Hope everyone is having a good Sunday. I feel like I'm still getting going on mine and it's already 2:30pm so that bodes well for the rest of the day. That's definitely what I get for staying up as late as I did working on my last illustration.

As for writing, I am struggling a bit. I'm feeling very unconfident and distracted and executively dysfunctional. I'm feeling very "why did I think I could do this" about it. (And this isn't about a particular story it is just writing in general. Making things in general.)

This is not a feeling I generally share but I think a lot of people have been honest about the struggles recently and well, we're all in this together.

Here's a little thing. Actually six sentences look at me go!

I’m nearly in [Snow's] lap now. He flinches when I turn my head, my nose—frozen and numb—touching the bare skin of his neck. It’s so warm, such a sharp contrast in temperature it almost hurts. It’s also such a welcome relief that I can’t force myself to move back. He does, though. He pulls away from me and I must be going fuzzy-brained because I make a noise of protest and try to follow.

How dare Simon revoke snuggles in snuggle-town. Prison. Prison for 500 years.

@stitchyqueer @rimeswithpurple @imagineacoolusername  @martsonmars  @valeffelees  @ileadacharmedlife  @aristocratic-otter  @letraspal  @palimpsessed  @whatevertheweather  @nightimedreamersworld @carryonsimoncarryonbaz  @raenestee  @moodandmist  @shrekgogurt  @whogaveyoupermission @onepintobean @captain-aralias  @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @mysterioussheep @c0nsumemy5oul @facewithoutheart @j-nipper-95 @alexalexinii @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs @best--dress @messofthejess @mooncello @orange-peony @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @youarenevertooold @that-disabled-princess @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @theearlgreymage @blackberrysummerblog @nausikaaa @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @emeryhall @hushed-chorus @forabeatofadrum @roomwithanopenfire @noblecorgi @monbons @run-for-chamo-miles @thehoneyedhufflepuff

[thegnomelord]

Hello there! I'm a new anon, kinda scared to ask and spill all of my weird ass fantasies that I can come up with, but I somehow found the courage to do so.

After reading through the soft sex fic with Makarov (and omfg I am going CRAZY over it) I just randomly came up with an idea involving that.

So hear me out (aka let me just be delusional)...

You, a member of 141, currently stand in the interrogation room, your back facing the door as you stared down at the one and only Vladimir Makarov himself. It was honestly a miracle that you had been able to capture him, and you still had no idea how the hell the rest of your team had managed it.

You were currently their last hope at getting some sort of information out of him, and by now the others knew very well by now how talented you were at getting it out of prisoners (albeit they didn't quite know what your methods were), hence why you were here in this room.

At this point you might as well have tried everything, these including the good old torture methods (which you noticed he seemed to quote like for some reason, perhaps he was a masochist, you weren’t completely sure), intimidation, asking politely (which wouldn't you know, didn't work), and practically everything you could think of.

As you racked your brain for any sort of other ideas, you could hear some sort of taunt from the other, and that must have set you off or something along those lines as you found yourself suddenly pinning the bastard down on the desk (you must have unlocked his handcuffs at one point during it, or perhaps he had already managed to unlock them beforehand, you weren't paying attention).

You wanted to think that the other was surprised, even just a little bit, but he wasn't, having probably expected you to have a small outburst.

Maybe you would have to resort to that. That one method that none of the others had seen in action, but one that if they did, you'd definitely get in a lot of trouble from. At least it always seemed to work.

So that's how you found yourself slowly fucking the other, not at all causing any pain, and although you'd expect the cold metal table would still inflicted just a little, you had taken the precaution to place something soft under the other to ensure that he couldn't get what he wanted. This was torture, even if in the eyes of others (not that they'd ever get to see this sight) it'd be much better, but no, it wasn't. You were well aware that the other wished for it to be harsh, having picked up on it earlier (the sick bastard), so you did the complete opposite. You weren't exactly used to it, but it was a last ditch effort.

So yeah thanks for reading whatever the hell that was :)

Idk how to continue it.

- ⨂ (I swear if that symbol has already been taken)

No no dude this is so good! SOrry it took me a lil while to respond lol, but you got my brain worms going brrrrrr so I'm just continuing it :Dd.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, Vladimir Makarov x male reader, short ficlet

You are so getting discharged for this.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask under your breath, voice husky and raw. You grip his hip gently, your other hand keeping his tied wrists pinned to the scratchy blanket covering the cold table. "All that snark, all those insults," You slowly grind your hips, cock lazily scrapping against his walls and making him groan. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's not like he can talk with his tie gagging him. It's the softest material you had on hand, and it works to ensure Makarov doesn't bite you or himself. You're smart, despite him thinking on the contrary, more than the gruff animals that had captured him. No, you're clever. Clever enough to realize bloodshed and pain are not the stones that pave Makarov's road to hell.

Makarov trembles beneath you, teeth clenching on the fabric, desperate to get his lip between his teeth so he could bite it raw. He can't. Hell he can barely stifle the groans and moans, chest heaving to swallow the sound before it can stumble past his open mouth when your head grinds down on his prostate. Drool runs down his chin, precum leaking on his belly where his cock is trapped between your belies.

He wants to curse you out, wants to get his hands around your throat and squeeze until you choke on your own blood. But he only manages a small grunt, tear blurred eyes glaring up at you. His legs tighten around your waist, heels digging into your back.

A lick of pain races up your spine, but you don't fall for it, languidly rolling your hips. You'd taken your time to stretch him out with what you had, prepping him thoroughly even when he'd trashed and tried to kick you. You're glad you did, now Makarov can't ignore the stretch of his hole, your massive cock moulding his insides to your shape. It's just raw unadulterated feeling, please assaulting his mind whenever you bottom out and your cock bulges his stomach without any pain; so sweet it's sickening to him.

He'd kick himself at how the disgustingly sweet pleasure has his cock twitching, body winding tight as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. But his mind is starting to go numb, the hate he feels shrouded by the nearing edge of bliss. He nearly seizes off the table when you wrap your calloused hand around the base of his cock, squeezing until he's just at the cusp of pain.

"Nu-uh." You growl and stop, cock twitching deep inside him. Leaning down to press gentle kisses across his throat that burn him like acid. "You're not getting off easy." You growl, kissing the corner of his lip. "Not until you give me what I need." You look at him expectantly.

He bares his teeth, swinging his head to try and headbutt you, but you pull your head just at the right time.

"Have it your way." Your grip relaxes, starting to jerk him off at the same pace of your languidly rolling hips. His head rolls back, his best attempt at a hateful sound escaping him when his head rests on the soft blanket. He hates it, tries to struggle as best he can but it's fruitless as you just hold him down, forcing him to just take it, to just suffer this gentle torture.

You may be discharged for this. But fuck, you'll make him suffer before you are.

[thechildofbhaalhasawoken]

Inquisitor: (Minding her business)

Dorian: Inquisitor! What are you doing here?!

Inquisitor: Uh minding my own business?

Dorian: NO

Inquisitor: No?

Dorian: We need to GO! You need to come with me right now!

Inquisitor: Maker’s breath what’s going on? Is someone hurt? Are we under attack?

Dorian: No, nothing like that but you need to come with me! Come on!

Inquisitor: What in the world? Why can’t you tell me?

Dorian: There’s no time, you might miss it!

Inquisitor: Miss what?

Dorian: Since when have you been so obstinate? Let’s put it this way: if you found out about it later and that I didn’t come and get you, you’d want to punish me for it, and despite what you may think I’m not into that.

Inquisitor: …

Dorian: COME ON!

Inquisitor: FINE I’M COMING

[ Dorian drags the Inquisitor to the battlements to look down at the Skyhold training area. A handful of Inquisition officers are sparring there - with none other than Commander Cullen, wearing his boots, trousers and a loose undershirt, wielding a training sword against two of his officers. ]

Dorian: What did I tell you?

Inquisitor: You are a good friend, Dorian.

Dorian: Best. Best friend.

Inquisitor: You are my best friend, Dorian. Oh heavens, is he taking - oh he took his shirt off.

Dorian: Can you stand?

Inquisitor: No guarantees.

Dorian: You look like you feel this man in your ovaries.

Inquisitor: That’s… that’s an excellent way of putting it, Dorian.

Dorian: Oh, I think he noticed you.

Inquisitor: Us.

Dorian: Hmm?

Inquisitor: He noticed us. You’re here too.

Dorian: Darling, if I had ovaries I’d want to make babies with him too, I mean, look at him.

Inquisitor: Yeah. I am looking at him.

Dorian: Did he just pour water on himself? He did that on purpose.

Inquisitor: That’s it. I’m done. My brain is gone. Nothing but ovaries now.

[foxaftershocks]

Oh my gosh I just read your most recent Lars Pinfield oneshot and I am in LOVE with your writing. Is it possible for you to do one where reader is with him & Lucky during the power outage scene, but like not *in* the main area they are at, more over by the Possessor's room. Hopefully you kinda get what I'm saying lol

I think I got what you were saying. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it even if I didn't.

Watching the possessor try and get Lars’ attention shouldn’t have made you feel a burst of warmth in your chest and yet there you were, pressing your lips together to suppress a smile.

“Can’t play right now,” Lars called as the chair tapped against the window.

You were sitting on the floor in front of the enclosure, knees bent towards your chest as you enjoyed the calm of being in the lab at night. During the day it could be so frantic, all kinds of noises and motions going on as the other researchers worked. At night like this, it was quiet, easy to just exist in your own body as you did what you loved. Especially given it was only people you happened to love still there too.

Or rather, person.

“I know you see me working,” he called over as the possessor continued to try and get his attention.

You stifled a laugh, the chair drooping down in sadness. It was like having a puppy in the lab and Lars had clearly been designated its favourite person.

“If you’re good later on you’ll get a tennis ball,” he said.

The chair perked up, the screech of the metal loud in your ears. You tapped on the glass, bringing its attention back to you. You smiled in, playing with it to give Lars and Lucky the chance to finish up their work in peace. The sound of their work was a familiar backdrop as you let your attention slip away from them.

That was until the possessor slammed the chair against the glass over and over again and the power went out. You were slow to climb to your feet, uncertainty filling your body.

“Uh… Lars?” you called out.

“Yeah, I know,” he called back, “just give it a minute.”

“I’m not sure…”

With one hand splayed on the cool glass of the possessor’s cage, you hauled yourself upright, leaning on it to keep yourself steady. You didn’t like it, the ambient noise of the lab making chills crawl over your skin. You held your breath, on tenterhooks, waiting for something to happen. The tension in the air was ratcheting up the longer it took for the generators to power back on, each second stretching out for an infinite amount of time.

“Lars, why haven’t the ghosts escaped yet?” Lucky asked, slow to make her way towards you.

It was like they’d been waiting for the question to be asked. The possessor slammed its chair against the glass to the right of your hand, cracking it outwards. You snatched your hand back as Lucky screamed, breath catching.

Stumbling back, you felt a cold chill going down the back of your neck. You were slow to turn into the waiting gaze of Bonesy, the skeletal face staring right back at you. Another crack from the glass behind you was loud in the otherwise silent area.

The frantic clicking from Lars on the computer filtered through and you watched as the lights flickered back on. Bonesy was pulled back through the glass as the proton fields turned on, missing you by a hair’s breadth. You slumped forward, relief coursing through you, making you light headed. Sinking to the floor, you did your best to take some deep breaths, forehead pressing to the tops of your bent knees.

“Okay we need to shut that thing up,” you heard Lars faintly say from back in the main lab.

Only then you heard his scream. Scrabbling to your feet, you rushed over, panic taking over your brain. Any rational thoughts were gone, taken over by your need to make sure he was okay.

He was bent over in front of the ionic separator, the brass sphere on the ground in front of him. His groans of pain were going through you, striking you like lightning. Lucky was standing close by, weight shifting from foot to foot, as if unsure what to do.

You grasped his shoulder, feeling him there under your hands, real and still warm. His breathing was coming fast and he was cradling his hand to his chest.

“Lars,” you said, trying to get his attention.

His blue eyes dragged up to yours, the pain contorting his face. You clutched at him, wanting to bring him closer.

“Don’t,” he shouted as you took a step towards him.

“What?” you said, freezing.

“Don’t touch it,” he gasped out, eyes darting down to the sphere at your feet, only an inch from your bare skin. You were careful as you shifted your feet away from it, trusting him completely. He’d never steered you wrong before.

“Lars,” you breathed out.

He was doubling up again, another groan coming from parted lips. With your hands still on his shoulders, you manoeuvred him around the sphere, sitting so innocently on the floor. He followed you, trusting you just as much as you trusted him.

“Leave it there until Lars can tell us what happened,” you instructed Lucky as you took Lars towards the medical centre.

Of course the nurse was long since gone, the bay dark. You flicked the lights on, helping him onto one of the beds. He was still curled up.

“Honey, I need you to tell me what happened,” you said, keeping your voice gentle, trying to coax him out.

“Cold,” he managed to gasp out, “I touched the sphere after it failed to extract the ghost inside and it was cold. Freezing. Fuck, it hurts.”

“I know it does, sweetheart,” you said, “can I look at it?”

He was slow to uncurl, offering his hand towards you. The skin was an unnaturally pale colour, the cold burn spreading over his palm, along his finger, making you wince just from looking at it. Your hands hovered over it, not sure what to do, where to touch, if you even should.

“We should warm it up, right? Oh god, I’m not a doctor,” you muttered to yourself.

“Warm water,” he said, “I need to soak it in warm water.”

“On it.”

He watched you as you filled a basin with warm water, a thermometer sitting in it as you brought it to the right temperature. Offering it to him, he eased his hand into the water. The wince he gave and the shaky breath suggested it wasn’t more comfortable.

“Are you going to be okay?” you asked, holding the bowl steady for him.

“I think,” he hissed, “I’ll survive.”

He looked up at you, standing close enough for his knees to brush you. Looking down at him, you felt your breath catch. It wasn’t your fault. He was so handsome, even when he was in pain. Not that you should be thinking about how gorgeous he was as you were trying to nurse him back to health.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice softening.

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t even get hurt. I’m more worried about you,” you said.

“But you were surrounded when we lost power,” he said.

His other hand hovered right over your hip, as if worried to touch you. Before he made contact, he took the bowl from your hands, putting it down on the bed beside him, keeping his hand submerged. You didn’t know what to do with your hands without hold it, fingers twisting together.

His touch rested on them, stilling your wringing hands. You looked back into his eyes, the touch of your skin against his making your heart flutter. The way he was looking at you was making your head spin.

“If anything had happened to you…”

You wanted to know what the end of that sentence was going to be.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

His fingers slotted between yours, holding your hand. Pulling you forward a step, he tugged you between his legs, thumb brushing along the length of your index finger. Your breath caught.

“We could die,” he said.

“We’re not going to die.” You weren’t even going to entertain the thought.

“But we could. And if we do I’m not dying without ever doing this.”

His hand disentangled from yours, reaching up to cup your cheek. Guiding you down, your eyes fluttered shut, waiting for him. His breath ghosted over your lips before they brushed together. You whimpered, pressing closer, fingers closing around his shoulder again.

The groan he let out made you draw back, worried he was in pain again. He didn’t give you the chance, pulling you back in, kissing you deeper. Clearly the pain wasn’t too bad if he could kiss you with such skill it had your knees turning to jelly.

“Hey guys, is Lars okay?”

You drew back from him, cheeks heating up as you whipped your head towards the door. He chuckled, falling forward, forehead pressing to your stomach. Your fingers found their way into his hair, winding around his curls.

“I’m fine,” he called back before Lucky stepped in.

“Are you?” you asked.

You gently lifted the hand from the bowl of cooling water. The skin still looked wrong, too white, like a layer of wax over his palm.

“We should probably go to the emergency room,” you said, “I don’t think we’re equiped to fix this.”

“Can you drive?” he asked.

“Of course.”

You left Lucky with strict instructions to not touch the sphere and to keep an eye on the ghosts. After the night you’d had, she needed to make sure nothing more happened while you took care of Lars.

And yet if this was a portent of things to come, it was only going to get worse.

[the-witches-creatures]

The Vagabond Pt. Four

Part four babes!

Something a little more on the serious side? Ish.. Kinda?

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @kyoko-neko @strawberrypoundtown

.......................................................................................................

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol... That's pretty much it?

Werewolf!Oscar "Oz" Vi x Werebunny!Fem!Reader

You sigh heavily as you walk behind the bar and over to stand in front of Oscar who was already on his second double of whisky for the night. You place your hands down harshly on the tile surface getting Oscar’s attention.

Oscar raised his eyebrow. “You good, sweetheart?” He chuckled before lifting the glass again to take another sip.

“I’m not gonna sleep with you in that shitty motel room anymore.” You say to Oscar as he sits at the bar while you clean some glasses.

Oscar almost choked on his whisky. “I’m sorry- what??” He questioned and coughed a bit as he wiped the whisky from his chin.

“I’m not gonna sleep with you in your shitty motel room anymore. If you want to keep hooking up that’s fine, but we are gonna do it at my place from now on.” You state bluntly with a casual shrug.

Oscar stared at you with a blank expression as his brain worked hard to process what you were saying. He set his glass down and rubbed his orange eyes. “Why?” He asked. “What’s wrong with my motel room?” He laughed a little.

You lean against the bar. “Oscar, the doors are flimsy as twigs, there are cigarette burns in the nasty ass carpets, you’ve moved to three different rooms in that building because of bed bugs and you’ve only been in town for five days!” You exclaim. You then lean over the bar and whisper. “If you want to keep fucking me, you can come stay at my place.” Your tone is serious and its so fucking hot.

Oscar felt a rush of goosebumps go down his neck. He then shook his head and bit his lip as he looked away from you. Hesitation in his eyes. Staying with you was… Way too personal for his liking. He finally looked back at you after a few moments. “We could fuck in the bathroom here at the bar, or something.” He said and smiled hopefully at you.

You roll your eyes. “Alright, no more pussy for you then.” You snort.

Oscar’s bright orange eyes went wide with panic. “Hey, hey sweetheart. No need to be like that.” He chuckled nervously. Why was his heart aching? Why did he dread the idea of not being able to touch or taste you anymore? 

You lean back, cross your arms, and suck your teeth. “I am not going back to that motel, Oz.” You say. “And we are not fuckin in the bar.” You whisper through gritted teeth.

“I was just- Okay, fine.” Oscar groaned. “Gods damn it, sweetheart.” He whispered. “Alright, you win. I’ll get my shit and stay with you for the last few days I’m in town.” He said in a defeated manner.

You smile brightly at Oscar. “Good, then you get to keep sleeping with me until you leave town.” You chirp.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks sweetheart.” He chuckled.

“Don’t act like you don’t like me.” You tease him. “Pay your tab, go get your stuff. I will take you to my place after work. I’m only on shift until ten o’clock tonight.” You smile as you walk off to serve other customers walking into the bar.

Oscar slung his duffle bag over his shoulder as he waited outside the bar for you. He checked his watch. Ten o’clock, right on the dot. His ears perked up at the sound of you walking out of the bar door.

“Were you waiting long?” You ask as you pull your keys from your purse.

Oscar shrugged. “Not really.” He yawned a little. “So sweetheart, where is your place?” He asked. “I’ll follow you on my bike.” He says as he points with his thumb to an old Harley parked on the side of the road.

You pointed at the apartments above the bar. “Up there.” You laugh. “And just leave your bike parked there, it’ll be fine.” You add as you lead him down the alley to the entry door to the apartment units above.

Oscar blinks slowly. “You live above the bar you work at?” He asked.

“Yep, it’s convenient.” You say casually as you unlock the door and lead Oscar up the narrow stairs.

“I’ll say.” Oscar mumbled as he watched your ass going up the stairs. He smirks and reaches out to give it a playful pinch.

You let out a yelp and glare at Oscar. “Hey!” You whine.

Oscar laughs. “Can’t help it sweetheart, you’ve just got such a sweet ass.” He said.

You roll your eyes playfully as the two of you reach the top of the stairs, leading him down the narrow hall. Your door is the unit at the end of said hall.

“Damn.” Oscar grunted as he followed. “I take it these weren’t always apartments?” He asks.

“No, they weren’t. I don’t know what the building was when my grandpa bought it back in the 70s, all I know is that he converted it into a bar and apartments.” You explain.

Oscar followed you into your small apartment. “So your grandpa owns the bar and apartments?” He asked.

“No, my dad does now.” You say as you kick your shoes off and toss them in the basket near the door before taking your jacket off.

Oscar whistled. “Damn, sounds like you’re set huh?” He chuckled as he kicked his boots off as well and tossed his duffle bag onto the couch.

You put Oscar’s boots in the basket with your shoes. “I mean, if I take it over, yeah.” You shrug.

“You don’t want to?” Oscar asked and raised his eyebrow.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I am just unsure about it all.” You shrug as you head towards the bathroom. “Make yourself at home, I’ve got left over pizza in the fridge.” You tell Oscar as you close the bathroom door behind you.

Oscar rests his chin in his hand, he can hear the shower turn on and pouts. “Damn, without me?” He mumbles as he looks around your apartment.

It’s small, but it’s also cozy. Fluffy pillows and a fuzzy blanket adorn your couch, plants on shelves. Though Oscar can tell they are fake plants, they still look cute. A couple of pictures hang on the walls. Of you and who Oscar assumes is your father.

He stands up from the couch and walks over to the wall to examine the pictures. A few are from your childhood, those are the ones with you and your parents in them. He also spots a couple of you with whom he assumes are friends. Your smile makes him smile. He can’t help it.

Oscar’s smile fades and a heavy sigh escapes him. “What the fuck am I doing?” He whispers to himself. He runs his fingers through his shoulder length brown locks and walks back over to the couch to sit down. His intrusive thoughts tell him to just grab his shit and leave while you’re still in the shower. But his instincts are growling at him to stay put. To stay with the sweet bunny girl. To give into what nature is telling him to do.

Oscar grunts as he lies across the couch and looks back over to the wall of pictures once more. Your smile makes him smile, he can’t help it.

[mayasaurusss]

I want headcanons on dating a werewolf!lottie 🫡🫡🫡 like she would be an amazing werewolf so fluffy big and silly pls

A/N: Very sorry @sokestry, as always I started the headcanons without reading the full request before... I really should stop and think before doing these, but any other attempt I did today was MEDIOCRE so I kept this. I can make another set of headcanons more centered on the relationship, if you want! These past weeks have been rough on me, so blame university for my bad writing!

Warnings: fluff, implied start of relationship.

"Anyways, I'm sure there's nothing in it. You were probably just high. And why where you even there in the first place?" you joke half heartedly with Van. "And I continue to say, there was something! I am sure of it! And, that's none of your business". Van sits back in her chair, blushing slightly "Were you trying to recreate some scenes from your stupid slasher movies or were you hooking up with Tai?" Lottie joins the 'let's bother Van' game.

There was a rumor in town: the woods were haunted. Or at least, that's wat everyone who returned from them said. Couples which wanted to spend some 'fun time' togheter, groups of friends wanting to feel the thirll of something begin with them in the woods, all said the same.

At night, when everyone's asleep, something roams the woods, searching for introuders.

"Uh, let's not talk about that. I tell you, I heard something in the woods" she continues, "Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever you say Van". That last phrase must have made her mad, 'cause her fists slam heavly on the table and her voice becomes slightly more loud than usual. "If you are that sure of yourself then, come on! Go! I want to see if your shit eating grin will still be there when you go into the woods!".

Lottie sips on her drink, "I think she's right. Besides, it's not safe to go out at night alone. Who knows which creeps are around".

Lottie, your... 'friend' has always been at your side, ever since the start of college. Lately, her demeanor has changed: once she used to be more shy and reserved but her personality has taken a new turn around two months ago. Now, she couldn't stop begin around you and trying to protect you. Probably, Van's challenge was making her uncomfortable.

"What, are you a chicken?" Van ignores Lottie, "You will understand what I'm talking about once you go there".

The moon is high in the sky tonight, like a giant white marble piercing through the dark. The air feels cold, too freezing to be an early summer evening.

You try not to mind the countless of spines slashing at your irritated skin, which by now has started to leave a faint trail of blood down your leg.

Annoyance fills your brain and you mentally face palm yourself: you should have known that it was a bad idea agreeing to Van's.

No matter, you're here now.

The woods are eerily queit. The air feels suddenly thick and heavy. Every sound the forest made before has gone queit and there's onyl the sound of your own breath. And that of a branch snapping behind you.

The blood in your veins freezes and you halt your movments. How the fuck can a branch snap on it's own?

You quickly whip your head around to be met by a pair of golden eyes. You can't make out what this thing is, just that big.

It hunches over you, almost kneeling on the ground, trapped in between the pine branches.

Tired of it's position, it shrugs off and stands on it's back legs. Now you can make it more clearly: it's tall, really tall.

You tell your libms to move, to run, to spend every single amout of energy you have left to make a run for it. Anything to stay alive, anything at all. But you don't, you can't.

Your limbs feel like lead and your body is almost paralized, like a deer in headlights.

The creature ducks under a high branch and comes back up stumbling over it's legs. It's so tall that it can't move as freely has it wants. Nevertheless, it's agile enough to be in front of you in seconds.

For how much you can see, it's covered in fur and has a long mound.

It releases a puff of air on your face, like it's releasing some kind of tension from it's chest. It comes even closer, as if it's any more possible, and now you're eyeing it's chest. Close enough that you can see each individual fur and how the night breeze moves it.

Unconciusly you meet it's eyes, expecting to find something horrifying, something that will tear your face open; only to be meet with what looks to be a... dog.

A big, giant, fluffy dog. Well, it resembles more a brownish wolf. It has an eerie human look to it, like it can understand your fear completely.

It's has deep brown eyes -the yellow colour must've been the reflection of the fallen flashlight-, on it's forehead there's a small scar without any fluff covering it.

The big, giant, fluffy dog gets closer to you, it starts to smell around your face. It's attentive, trying to unederstand if you are a threath or not. If it knows you, or not.

You look in diesbelief when the big, giant, fluffy dog starts to wave it's tail behind it's back. In just a matter of seconds, it's on you: all that you can feel is it's fur on you, heavy breathing, the thump of it's tail and an occasional lick on your face.

With curiosity, you reach a hand behind it's left ear and scratch.

The creature falls to it's side and for a second you think it got hurt in some way, but it has adjusted so that you can pet it's belly.

When you do, it's starts to let out some light wines of approval. And you are even more confused.

You'd wish you could stay here longer, that you could spend more time with this thing -for how crazy that sounds- but you're getting cold -that's on you for not bringing a jacket- and most importantly, you fear that if you accidentally do the wrong move, the next thing that that thing will do is ripping your guts open.

You wait for the creature to be comfortable enough, then, ever so slowly you get up, careful to not upset it -or to not stomp on it's tail-.

Just some minutes later, it wakes up. Cold and alone.

The morning after your little adventure, you're begin pestered by Van, "So? Is Miss 'I'm not scared of anything' convinced now? Or did you chiken out?".

You can't let her know she was right, or you'd never hear the end of it.

"I'm not sure what you saw, but I didn't see nor heard anything" you say while trying not to show your nervousness. "Yeah sure. You have an habit of lying; I remember when we saw 'The Conjuring'. You acted all cool then the day aft-"

Lottie falls heavly on the chair next to yours and hides her face in her arms.

Both you and Van look at eachother before turning to Lottie, "Hey Lottie? Sweetie? Is everything ok?" she visibly shudders at the pet name, but tries to play it off. "Yes...Just a bit tired, that's all".

Lottie has a strange look to herself today. During summer she usually wears one of those skimpish outfits of hers, but today she's covered head to toe. It looks like she hasn't slept all night.

"Uhm... ok...if you say so", Lottie seems stranger than usual. She's looking at you with a certain sparkle in her eyes. And, as if you hurt her somehow.

Some weeks go by with Lottie behaving ever so strangely. When you've had enough, you decide to crash at her house without telling her both to see what's she's been up to and to make her annoyed.

It's eight pm when you climb and knock on Lottie's window, startling the poor girl. She's wearing a black tank top and a pair of shorts. She looks almost angry at the fact that you're here.

"Why are you here?" she huffs at you while falling back on her bed. "Oh come on Lottie. You've been acting weirder than usual, I just wanted to check ok you. That's what friends do".

A small whine leaves Lottie, "We... We are not friends". Freezing your movements, you look back at her. "What are we then, Lottie?"

She's about to answer you, when her words die in her throat. A shiver travels up her body as her body starts to morph.

When you try to get closer to her and help, she shows you back on her bed and tries to run away from you. But her legs are too weak.

You watch as your best friend becomes something else. The second she starts to change, something in your mind snaps and links everything together.

The transformation is so terrifying that you can't watch. When you look back, your best friend has morphed into the creature from the woods.

She looks almost ashamed of herself, trying to make herself become smaller and to evade your eyes. Her tail fits snugly into her legs while from her throat leave whines.

She almost jumps up when she feels your hand on her. You ran your fingers on her brownish fur while holding her.

You try to not show your terror, and hold her closer than possible.

"Don't worry... You're ok...". You stay with her until morning, when her body becomes hers again.

As soon as she returns back to normal, Lottie throws her arms on your shoulders and snugs into your neck. Tears stain your shirt and she sobs uncontrollably "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I-I'm this ugly thing... I was... I was scared of hurting you. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I did".

You sit in silence, trying to comfort her at the best of your abilities.

"So... Why did you jump on me that night?" Lottie's breath halts and you can feel her cheeks heating up on your skin.

"Huh... You really like me then!" Lottie shudders in your arms "Stooop".

[steddiecameraroll]

This is Supposed to Be My Damn Year

52,151 words | Rating E | Eddie 1st person POV; pre- and post- S4

[snippet ↓]

“Eddie?” Dustin comes huffing over to me and stands there with a bright smile. This damn kid, he’s lucky he’s special.

“Sup?” I nod and pretend with all my might that I am casual as hell and that I don’t feel like a ball of jittery nerves. Which obviously I am. I’m standing in Steve Harrington’s house while he’s looking at me, not two feet away. This is the worst.

“You made it. I thought you were gonna ditch us.”

“Yeah, probably why you made The King here call me.”

“Please stop calling me that.” Steve’s voice is confident yet quiet.

I whip my head over to look at him because I’m surprised he’s saying anything. Does he not like being called The King anymore? That’s news to me. He had worn that crown proudly previously.

“Are you no longer royalty, Harrington? Doth my ears hear correctly? Are you nothing but a lowly peasant now? Like one of us?” I motion between myself and Dustin because clearly, Dustin is a nerd, not a King.

“I’m-I’m just Steve. Steve is fine.” He dares to roll his eyes at me and then walk away. I watch him amused and a little confused but at least amused.

“I told you, he’s not that guy anymore,” Dustin whispers as he steps closer.

“Sure, so you say, Henderson. We will see. So who’s here? What are we watching? Where are the fancy snacks?” I rub my hands together because snacks at a rich kids’ house are chef’s kiss perfection. They usually have Squeeze-its or Twinkies or different Doritos. If I have to endure hours in this massive hellscape, I will eat my weight in expensive snacks.

Dustin leads me through the entrance of this weird house and to the kitchen. There are a couple other people in here, including Robin Buckley. Why is Robin Buckley at Steve Harrington’s house?

“Eddie?” She’s looking at me how I imagine I am looking at her, very confused.

“Robin? What are you doing here?”

“You two know each other?” Dustin points between us surprised to see I know anyone other than him.

“Yeah, I know more than those of you in Hellfire. Robin and I are in band. So why are you here?”

“I’m…” She looks as if her brain has short-circuited and can’t compute language. 

“Her and Steve are best friends. I don’t know why they’re not dating, but anyway.” 

“What?” Yeah, I definitely walked through a parallel universe. What is Dustin talking about? How could The Hair be best friends with a trumpet-playing hyperactive nerd girl who I’m pretty sure is a little… y’know…fruity. Actually, that’s probably why they’re not dating. Oh, so Dustin doesn’t know that part. “You’re friends with The Hair?”

“The Hair? Ughh, don’t call him that.” She scrunches her face in disgust.

“Ok, I have to ask this out loud because I feel like I’m losing my mind. Did I walk through a wormhole?” I’m waving my hands in front of me, looking back and forth between Robin, Dustin, and, oh god, Nancy Wheeler. “What are you…? What is happening here?” Ok, so this is weirder than I even imagined it to be.

“We’re all friends,” Robin says so matter-of-factly that I almost take her at her word.

“How?” But my skepticism wins out.

I see a look between Nancy and Robin that clearly has some meaning behind it, but I have no idea what it is. Dustin is also giving them a knowing look. So yeah, something has happened between these so-called friends, and I wonder if I walked into an orgy. Is this an orgy? No, no, there are children here, that’s not it, ew, no. Wait, did Steve and Nancy split up because Nancy is with Robin? Oh, that could be entertaining.

“Just normal ways.” Does Nancy think that answer was sufficient? She stands there awkwardly, crossing her arms and avoiding making eye contact. So no, she knows that was bullshit.

“I’m sorry, but I need one of you to fully explain at least a fraction of what the fuck is going on. Henderson, I’m looking at you, kid. Because you were the one that begged me to come here. So it’s on you, kiddo, to fill me in.” I cross my arms and glare at him. Show time, Dusty.

“Why are you all standing in the kitchen?” Steve interrupts the moment, and everyone seems to be relieved. They shouldn’t, though, because I’m not letting this go.

“Because, Harrington, they’re explaining how you all are friends. And you’re somehow best friends with Robin Buckley? Your ex-girlfriend is standing in your kitchen as if that’s normal, and Dustin Henderson speaks so highly of you that you’d think you went to war together.”

Dustin starts choking on his soda and almost spits all over me. I wipe my hands over my jacket front and grimace at the bodily fluids.

“Sorry,” he shamefully bows his head and steps away from me.

“Robin and I worked at Scoops Ahoy together at the mall before it burned down. We kinda went through some shit during the fire, so we bonded. Also, wearing a sailor uniform during that whole thing can feel war-like.”

I forgot about the mall fire. I didn’t realize Steve or Robin had been involved. Shit, that’s some massive trauma-bonding experience.

“Wow, wait, sailor uniforms?” I look between them, hoping one of them will crack. “Do you still have these uniforms? Because I think if I could see this whole scenario, maybe it would help me understand.” Do you think it’s working?

“No…” Robin speaks first.

“Yes…” Steve interrupts.

Everyone in the room turns and stares at him. I don’t think I could even wipe the smile off my face. Oh god, yes, please go put it on. I need to see The King in a fucking sailor uniform. Not because I love a man in a uniform, but yeah, but no, because how the mighty have fallen. Also, a sailor uniform? So like a hat and shit? Did he wear those giant wide-legged white pants? What kind of uniform was this? How did no one tell me Steve Harrington was working at an ice cream shop that I could’ve gone to and seen in fucking person? No one. Not a soul ever shared this information. I need better friends.

“You do not,” Robin exclaims.

“Yeah, I do.” He says so nonchalantly like obviously he does.

An evil grin spreads across my lips, and I can’t help myself. “Please, oh, please, Harrington, prove her wrong.” I slowly lick my bottom lip because I’m only a man, and the person in front of me is very hot. Sure, I hate him, but I can appreciate the beauty.

He smiles, he fucking smiles, then rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Oh god, I need to get out of here, or by the end of this night, I might actually like this dick, not just his dick.

“Maybe next time you’re invited, and I don’t have to call you to remind you to show up.” 

Is he flirting with me? I look at everyone else in the room, hoping one of them will tell me if Steve Harrington is flirting with me. But, unfortunately, none of them are paying attention. Oh my god. Is he flirting with me? I think I’m having a heart attack.

“Come on, dingus, where are your snacks?” Robin pokes Steve in the chest and starts opening cabinet doors.

“Dingus? She’s allowed to call you dingus, but I can’t call you King?” I can’t stifle the laugh that bubbles from my chest, and I’m having too much fun for my own good.

This is going to be something I remember forever. I would write about this night for days if I had a diary. Cute little pink diary with a tiny little lock that is easily broken but holds all my deep dark secrets of this weird fucking night.

Read more on ao3 👀

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Unforgiving: Choso Kamo x y/n

Requested: No

TW: None

Word count: 795

Part 3 | Part 5 TBD

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Another cold afternoon. The leaves continue their trajectory from tree to the floor. The ebb and flow of nature is evident in the harsh breeze of the day. The sun did little to warm you. 

You breathed into your hands to warm them. Even your weapon was cold. You stood waiting for Choso. You felt so silly waiting for an enemy to come and teach you how to fight. If you were honest, you'd admit that you were there for his touch. His attention. You felt guilty yet giddy. 

You hear the rustling of leaves. You turn excited to see him. He wears a soft smile on his face as he registers the fact that you waited for him again. You hold the urge to run into his arms. You walk up to him, slowly, deliberately. 

"You're late." You say. 

"I wasn’t aware that there was a time limit." He tilts his head to the side, a wide smile playing across his face. 

You huff and look away. How can he have such power over you? And why are you letting him have this power? 

"What am I learning today?" You mumble.

He stood there, pensive. He notices you trembling because of the cold. He feels guilty making you wait for him in such weather. He grabs your hand and guides you to a nearby stump. He sits down and pats his lap as a gesture for you to sit.  

You withhold a gasp. Sitting on his lap? That felt too intimate. Too welcoming. You debate on whether to cave into his invitation or not. You remembered him being warm and comforting. You craved his touch. 

As if your body had a mind of its own you mindlessly walked to him. You stood between his legs and sat on his lap. Instantly Choso wraps his arms around you. You feel his warmth, his body, his heartbeat. 

Your back is to his chest. His hands are wrapped around your mid-section. You felt captive but not trapped. You reminded yourself to breathe. 

"Let's not train today." He whispered against your ear. "Let me hold you, just like this."

You take a deep breath, the deepest you've taken all day. You could feel his breath, the movement of his lips against the shell of your ear. Your brain short circuited. You wanted to hear his voice again. 

"Why?" You ask. 

"I can't explain it, but holding you makes me feel whole."

You blush. "How so?"

"I live for my brothers, I love them. This feels different. As if…" he hesitates, "we live for each other."

You close your eyes at his words. Was he right about that? Were you caught in him? Were you wanting to live for him? 

You jolt out of his grasp, scared and anxious. You just met him. You've only spent time 2 other times. This was too much for you. You needed an out. 

"I can't do this. You're the enemy." You say as a matter of fact. 

"I am no longer involved with Kenjaku. I am here for Yuji. I wish to make things right." He stood up, embarrassed that he shared so much. 

"You keep saying that and yet you haven't gone to see Yuji." 

"You were my priority."

There he went again, making your knees weak. "Why?" You say looking for an out. 

"When I’m around you, I feel different." He steps closer to you. "I want you. And I've never wanted anything in my life."

You hold the urge to jump on him and kiss him. You weren't completely clear what was happening but you did know that you were connected to this man in some way. 

"What now?" You asked.

Choso shakes his head. "Say it. I want to hear you."

You act confused. You're afraid of repeating back his words. No matter how true they are, you couldn’t say it. 

Choso is patient with you. He trails his hand down your face. Softly. As if committing to memory the feel of your skin. You look intently into his eyes, defiant hoping he would waver. His eyes soften. 

"I can't say it. I don't know how I’m feeling. This is too much." You concede. 

"I understand. Take your time. I'll be around." 

He takes your small figure into an embrace. You let him hold you. It feels like home. Eventually you separate. He holds the urge, once again, to kiss you senseless. He trails his hand down your face and into your collarbone before turning around and walking into the woods. No final words. No goodbye. 

You stand there heartbroken and lonely. What have you done? Will you see him again.  The cold fall air is unforgiving. Even the leaves shake in the cold as the sun sets.