#and It’s not even saying that he’s using a descriptive bc that wouldn’t mean shit to him

[starlooove]

Need to stay off tiktok why are white men going ‘white women be like’ and white women talking about their ‘white boy obsessions’ those are just ppl to you. The descriptor is unnecessary. Those aren’t ‘white women’ to you they’re women. Thats not a ‘white boy obsession’ that’s a boy obsession. This is the problem with y’all copying everything black ppl say online; we use those descriptions bc when we talk about black women/men we don’t NEED to specify amongst ourselves. We do when we talk about y’all. Like y’all just saying shit makes you sound so weird. Also the men are just being misogynistic and the women are tryna make regular ass shit sound quirky and cool like you hate ur mother and u have a crush. It’s ok. Be yourself.

[subskz]

hi! i just wanted to say, i’m a sub and i avoid sub skz stuff bc it’s not really my taste. i scrolled though the lee know smut tag like a few weeks ago, and i came across strawberry lemonade. i know i avoid sub skz, but i decided to give it a try anyways. and oh my god, i think that was the best decision i ever made. i haven’t read any sub skz fics because i figured that i probably wouldn’t like it, but i’m so glad that i gave it a try because honestly i think i’m kind of into it. the way you write is actually so delicious. your use of descriptions is actually scarily good like it was so easy to visualize it all, and like oh my god your descriptions sounded so hot. and the dialogue too…sooo good!! i loved how it transitioned from playfulness to something more, i don’t know, hot? idk the whole fic is just hot. all the teasing and calling him kitten?? oh my god. dragging the cold popsicle against his skin and then licking it up with the warmth of your mouth?? the sudden change in temperature is just so hot. and oh my god, putting the popsicle on his cock??

“You rolled the treat lower to emphasize your question, wedging it against his balls and making his cock spasm wildly,”

HELLO??? THE VISUAL?? imagination running wild. balls unfortunately don’t get enough love, so that line made me go a little crazy. and the way his cock spasms wildly because of it is so ridiculously hot. and even when you’re doing all of that, he still tries holding onto his pride, which is actually soo cute. and then wrapping your lips around his cock?? ughhh, if just doing it against his thighs got me going crazy, this one definitely got me going even crazier. the contrast in temperatures is <33333!! and using the popsicle where your lips didn’t cover?? you’re gonna be the death of me.

“Gradually, you built up a steady pace, timing the strokes of the popsicle with your mouth so that every inch of his dick was being stimulated at once. Hot and frigid, sloppy and smooth, like you were freezing his body over and setting it back on fire. It wasn’t long before the dizzying blend of sensations became too much for him to handle.”

i’ll let that paragraph speak for itself because holy shit was that hot as hell.

“Don’t make me beg for it.”

“But you sound so cute when you do.”

HELLLLOOOOOO?????????? ugh your writing is just so scrumptious!! oh my god and when he finally lets go of his pride and starts begging, it’s sooooo <333333

“The strawberry slush dissolved against your tongue, cooling the inside of your mouth to create an icy blend of saliva that was far too much for his hypersensitive body to handle.”

OH MY GOD. i’m in love. and the part where you stop just to make sure he doesn’t get hurt is just so adorableeee!! many fics are just pure smut with no feelings, so it’s absolutely lovely when you included this little bit that shows that you care about minho <33

“Even the popsicle lasted longer than you.”

PLEASEEEE i lost it at that omggg.

sjiwnfienenf this fic was a masterpiece. was it kinda unsanitary? yeah. but does that matter? absolutely not. i loved it omg. super hot. i stalked your blog afterwards. read almost everything, just need to find the time to start reading butterfly bandage and a few others.

also, i wanted to hear your thoughts on domming skz for the first time? but if you’re not comfortable writing switch reader, then maybe pegging for the first time? (reading “safe” made me lose my mind omg)

hello hello! first off i just have to say that your entire message has me in shambles oh my god i can’t believe how sweet u are!! 😭 thank you so much for all your kind and encouraging words, it means a lot to me that you liked it! esp since sub skz isnt ur usual cup of tea i’m delighted that you took a chance on strawberry lemonade n ended up enjoying it <33

the way u caught on to so many little details throughout the fic and immersed urself in the descriptions is incredibly touching to me, you really read w a keen eye i appreciate it so much!! even to the point of sharing lil excerpts that you liked and noticing the slight tone shift at the beginning…ur too kind ㅠㅠ the contrasting temperatures was kinda what inspired the whole thing so i’m glad to know u found that hot hehehe what better way to slowly chip away at lino’s pride right~ and yes!! i try to sneak in softer moments whenever i can to show some love for the boys, i’m very happy u took notice of that part and that it’s smth you value as well! 🥰

thank u again for taking the time to send such a lovely message u really brightened up my day!! butterfly bandage is a bit of a journey haha…if you do end up reading it i hope you’ll enjoy the ride angel 💗💗💗

as for ur question! yes i don’t do switch reader, but i think i could do smth like going from a vanilla relationship to domming skz for the first time if you’d like? either way, i’ll add first time pegging thoughts under the cut here ^_^

chan - so shy, so so shy. he’s extremely self-conscious abt it bc he feels guilty for wanting smth that, in his mind, is almost solely for his own pleasure instead of yours. he’s a lil giver who always wants to satisfy you first, after all! still, he can’t deny how bad he craves trying it, he definitely researches pegging on his own (shoutout deadpool) and gets off to the thought of it, then feels insanely embarrassed w himself after. he doesn’t have the courage to ask you outright, but since u know him well enough, it becomes pretty clear to you what he wants through his indirect roundabout channie ways of hinting at it. saying things like “ur always slapping my butt *giggle* why do u like it so muchhh~” or “i saw some videos the other day and um. yeah haha. i was like wow, ppl are into some pretty interesting things, yknow?” or ofc the infamous complaining abt how fat his ass is…lmao. and after one too many times of him fiddling w his ears and giving u hopeful glances as he stammers his way through dropping hints, you finally accept that this man is never gonna ask for it himself and decide to take initiative instead

when you do, he bursts into flames 😭 he tries desperately to play coy n oblivious, but it’s so clear how much the idea excites him w how he goes bright red, he’s not fooling anyone~ channie is such a good boy though. even if he’s nervous, he does his part to try and prep himself for you on his own, experimenting w fingering himself and even looking for the right toys to get him used to being opened up. he does whatever he can to be ready for you and make the process more convenient, but he’d definitely still need to ease into it little by little. starting w you fingering him so he can adjust to being filled up like that, testing out some smaller toys, then eventually leading into the actual pegging after a few days or weeks. he needs you to take it slow the first time, be very gentle w him! bc not only is it a bit nervewracking to try smth new, he also just feels kinda vulnerable and insecure abt it. needs lots of convincing that this is smth you want too, and that you get all the pleasure you need just seeing him blissed out and falling apart underneath you <3

he’s a flustered wreck the entire time, squirming and avoiding eye contact and covering up his body bc he feels way more exposed than usual sprawled out for you, leaking against his tummy w his legs spread. but no matter how embarrassed he is, he’s still so loud once youre inside him. if you thought he was noisy before, the sounds he makes as you start to thrust into him are like nothing you’ve ever heard before, and he wouldnt be able to contain them to save his life ㅠ his moans are so sweet, emotive, and grateful. with the way they spill out of him nonstop, it leaves no room for doubt in your mind that he’s feeling so good that all his misgivings have washed away. he tries his best to stay communicative so you know what he likes, that he’s still okay and comfortable, but once he fully adjusts to the rhythm and feel of your strap inside him he gets lost in it pretty quickly and has a hard time staying verbal. all he can really manage is a broken groans of “ah, good”, whimpering your name over n over and slurring out pleas for more, but those are more than enough to let you know that he’s enjoying himself~ it kinda dawns on him as he’s being drowned in all this pleasure how lucky he is to have you and how safe he feels in that moment, he might even start to cry if his emotions are running particularly high that day. he needs a lot of praise through it bc, again, he wants to be reassured that he’s doing well for you when all of the focus is on him like that; it’s one of the few times he won’t religiously try to deflect all ur compliments. i think he’d wanna be in missionary despite his shyness, bc he wants to feel close to you. he’ll be hiding behind his hands or unable to hold your gaze most of the time, but he still wants to be face to face with you for kisses and soothing touches <3 he’ll definitely wrap his legs around you when he’s close to pull you in deeper, like he’s worried you might stop. or he’ll tug needily at your arm to pull you down against his chest, begging you to hold him as he comes undone. aside from the emotional intimacy of the position, he also feels a lil relieved that he can bury his face into your shoulder and hide away. if you pinned his hips down the mattress to steady him while he cums, he’d go absolutely wild. later down the line, he’d be very open to you fucking him rougher. he’d esp love for you to “mahandle” him a lil bit. even if he’s bigger/stronger than you, he gets such a thrill from feeling kinda helpless as he’s bent and folded and tossed around into any position you want. he’ll crumble instantly under your hands, just to hear you call him a good boy for obeying so eagerly <3 but despite that secret desire in him, for his first time i definitely think he’d need it to be soft!

lino - curious kitty #1…he is most definitely interested in trying it out. one of the hungriest for it out of all the boys, actually, and he’s honestly a lil frustrated that you haven’t suggested it yourself yet. bc though he can be pretty shameless abt asking to try new things, he also doesn’t wanna risk the blow to his pride if you reject the idea. his version of dropping hints is literally just staring holes into the back of ur head, hoping his telepathic signals will reach you and you’ll just know what he wants without him having to say it, bc god forbid he looks desperate in front of you (he is, but you dont need to know that). if you don’t bring it up yourself, eventually he runs out of patience and just deadpans it to you one day that he wants to try pegging, but he frames it as a joke just in case so he can giggle in ur face n act like he didn’t mean it if you aren’t into it lol. if you’re the one to suggest it, his heart kinda flutters bc lino really wants to be wanted by you. he wants you to go crazy over the thought of him writhing in pleasure underneath you, to see how pretty he looks getting fucked so you become just as hooked on it as him and ask yourself why you didn’t do this sooner. he definitely plays up his seductive behavior around you to try and get you to initiate it like the sneaky lil kitty he is

though he acts all fussy n huffy as if he’s doing you a favor, he’s actually very thoughtful behind the scenes just like channie. he tries to prep himself in private and does a lot of research on how to do it safely and properly for the first time. partially to make things easier for you, and partially so he can blow u away w how much of a “natural” he is heh…despite what he leads you to believe, he really wants to please you, too, even if he’s very adamant abt being pampered. he absolutely 1000% sucks your strap before you fuck him. even if he’s never done it before, he treats it like a must, and the way he works his mouth would make you believe he’d been doing it his entire life. he wants to show you what he can do for you too, kinda like he’s reminding you of why he deserves to be fucked so well in the first place~ given how experimental he is, you’ve probably already tried fingering w him before so it’s not smth entirely new to him, but the complete fullness he feels once you inch your strap all the way in is like nothing he could’ve ever prepared himself for. he gets obsessed w it instantly, both the pleasure that’s so intense in an entirely different way, and the whole new lvl of intimacy it brings to your dynamic

he tries to keep quiet at first, just letting out cute little grunts and hitched breaths as he gets used to the stretch. but the moment you start to consistently bottom out inside him, you’re in for the prettiest, most angelic sighs n moans you've ever heard from him. he might wanna start out in missionary bc he likes the eye contact and he feels more comfy being able to see you…he will be looking directly into ur soul w the most intense, sultry gaze that shows how much he really trusts you, it’s very hot in its own way hehe. that, coupled w the way his thick thighs wrap around you to urge you in deeper, tell you everything you need to know abt how much he loves it, even if he refuses to admit it outright. the faces he makes and the sight of him rocking his hips to match your movements are mind-numbing…he’s a dancer after all, he’s got very good muscle control and knows exactly how to move when he really wants to put on a show <3 as the pleasure picks up though, he gets a lil too drunk on it and becomes needier n needier, you can tell his composure is slipping as he starts to shake more w each thrust. he’s so focused on feeling good that he forgets abt his pride and starts whining for more, for you to go deeper, harder, faster. that’s how you end up in doggy style w him grinding himself down on your strap to meet each rock of your hips, grateful that he can whimper and drool into the pillows instead of letting his cries ring out in full volume. he’s usually pretty good at holding his noises back if he really wants to, but when you’re filling him to the brim over and over like that, there’s no chance for him to keep quiet. he’d love it if you squeezed n kneaded his thighs until deep imprints were left behind for days afterwards. and if you reach out to play w his nipples from behind or hook your fingers into his mouth, pulling his head back and making him salivate all over them as you repeatedly hit his prostate just right, he may just cum on the spot

binnie - w binnie, i can see it going either way when it comes to who suggests it first! he can be a lil clueless and detached from the world sometimes so he may not even really know what pegging is until u explain it to him. the way his face would change as you go into detail would be so adorable, he’s all nervous nose scrunches and awkward squirming. you can physically see how excited the idea gets him, and he’s down for it almost immediately. he’s honestly pretty flattered that you want him that way hehehe typical binnie, it fuels his lil leo heart like nothing else even if he’s a bit embarrassed over the idea of being in such a vulnerable position in front of you. he’d definitely end up looking up things like “how to look cool and sexy but also cute while getting pegged” as his version of preparation lol. if he’s the one to ask you for it, he’s so so endearing abt it. strangely quiet and timid, ducking his head, shuffling his feet as he struggles to mumble out the question…he’s literally one step away from sinking to the floor and covering his face once he manages to stammer the words. he gives you the most irresistible pout when you tease him for it, if you rest your hands on his hips n tell him how pretty he’s gonna look filled up w you, he will melt instantly. literally weak in the knees over just the thought of it, suddenly he's ready for you to take him right then n there hehe. lots of dramatic whines and swatting shyly at your shoulder through the entire process, bc even if he thrives off your attention, he’s still a teensy bit of a tsundere when he gets so much of it <3

his anticipation is obvious w the way he’s watching everything you do w wide, starry eyes and wiggling around constantly in the sheets. but even so, he tries to put on a brave front bc he wants to impress you, show you how good of a boy he can be for you! when you first push into him you’d get a lot of nervous babbling though 😭 he goes from “don’t hold back, i can take it” to “ah wait wait wait it’s big, slow down” to “it actually d-doesn’t feel that—moans” to “faster please, harder please, deeper please” he gets so talkative and vocal over every little move you make like he’s narrating his thoughts, it’s so cute. esp when you thrust into him extra good and suddenly he shuts all his rambling up w a sharp, high-pitched moan. he is so ridiculously whiny too, esp if you start to make playful comments here n there abt how he’s being such a good boy, taking you so well, moving his hips so well, like his body was made to be fucked like this <3 it simultaneously makes him glow w pride and flusters him out of his mind bc he isn’t sure it’s normal how turned on the thought of being your pretty lil doll makes him (it might be too much for him during ur first time but if you eventually added breeding into the mix he’d lose it mind). like channie, he’s extra starved for your praise when you peg him, so showering him w compliments is a must!! even if they make him pout for you to stop embarrassing him, he isn’t very good at hiding how much he basks in it. drag your hands all over his body and fawn over how strong n beautiful it is, call him your pretty boy as you pull him closer by his hips to reach deeper inside him, murmur how irresistible he is right before you sink your teeth into his broad shoulders ❤️‍🔥 he will literally be making the filthiest, most shameless, wanton sounds you can imagine, and hearing them only turns him on even more. i think binnie definitely has a thing for listening to his own moans when he’s really far gone hehe it makes him feel so slutty in the best way…his voice gets so sweet and cute when you’re making him feels worlds of pleasure he’s never felt before, who could blame him for loving the sound of it, really. also…cup his chest as you get rougher w your thrusts and he’s a complete goner. esp if you squeeze his pecs together and tease him for how they’re so big that you have to hold them down bc they keep bouncing hehe. all it would take is leaning down to suck on his nipples and he’s cumming untouched

hyunjin - he is most definitely thinking abt it from the moment you two get together. it’s smth he wants so bad but if he had to say it out loud he may actually just die of sheer embarrassment, so he keeps it to himself no matter how much he craves it. the question of if you’ll ever bring it up w him is constantly on his mind, bc even if you’re in a d/s relationship, he isn’t sure if you’d be into that aspect of it n he’s worried you’ll think he’s weird for wanting it…hyune’s another shy one who can have a hard time voicing his desires outside of the bedroom ㅠㅠ i think the only surefire way you could really draw it out of him is in the middle of a scene or right after one, where his emotions are still running high and he’s completely controlled by his desire without any of his usual inhibitions, that’s where he tends to say things that he’d be too hesitant to say otherwise, then blush over it later. he might get too lost in the adrenaline rushing through his veins and starts moaning abt how he wants you inside him, to fuck him until he can’t remember his own name, to make him yours in every possible way. it’s very intense and sensual, and at first you wonder if he’s just saying these things in the heat of the moment. but when you ask him abt it afterwards, he suddenly gets so quiet and shy, burying his red face into your neck n mumbling that he can’t believe he said those things out loud </3 and his reaction is all the confirmation you need to know he meant every word~

hyune’s neediness will be battling it out w his awkwardness the entire time you’re prepping him. poor baby is very self critical and can’t stop thinking abt all the things that could go wrong—if you won’t enjoy it, if he’ll look weird, if his size will make it a lil awkward to navigate…you’d need to be very observant of him n pay close attention to his expressions to make sure he’s fully relaxed bc his emotions show all over his face! once your fingers slip inside of him though, he starts to let loose, you can tell by the way his voice rings out loud and clear, suddenly not having any care in the world other than how it feels to be stretched out by you. seeing him slip into that headspace that’s so vulnerable yet so passionate is always smth to marvel at ❤️‍🔥it’s no secret that jinnie is very good w his hips and he makes perfect use of that talent in this situation. he’ll end up grinding down desperately against your palm without even realizing it, rolling his entire body and begging for your strap before you’ve even had the chance to add a third finger n fully open him up. just like chan, his reservations go out the window the moment you actually push the toy inside of him. he makes the most insane facial expressions, eyes rolling back, plump lips swelling and coated w drool from how much he bites down on them, thick brows scrunching together…when his sleepy eyes are blown wide w lust it makes for the most gorgeous sight <3 and if that isn’t enough to tell you how good he’s feeling, he is also extremely vocal too. lots of needy whimpers and groans that are so stretched out you’d think he was exaggerating them. even if he’s bigger than you, he’ll let you toss him around like he’s completely weightless into any position you want, he’s like putty in ur hands. he’d go crazy if you pulled his legs up on your shoulders (speaking of…catboy anon once had the idea of hyune spraying perfume on his ankles so you can smell it when they’re up by ur head and…he absolutely would 😵‍💫 he’s so thoughtful n romantic even when youre putting him through the mattress) if you snaked your hand up his body while taking him from behind and wrapped your fingers around his throat, he would fall apart in a matter of seconds. especially if you pulled him back against your chest by his hair or throat and held him there

jisung - han jisung has been waiting for this moment his entire life 🙏 from the beginning he hardly makes it a secret how desperately he wants you to peg him, he’s probably the one who asks for it first! even if you also have it in mind, he’s so eager that he doesn’t even give you the chance to pose the question, he’s one step ahead of you. long before you two ever discuss the idea, he��s already become very familiar w fingering himself and using all kinds of toys on himself…baby’s got bad hehe. he might even already have a strap prepared bc he’s hopeful that one day he’ll get to try it w you…n he’s definitely gotten off to the thought of it countless times 😽 he’s honestly a lil shameless once he learns that you’re just as down as he is, but his reaction is so endearing. he goes from stuttering out the question through breathy, awkward chuckles, to perking up like an excited puppy when you respond positively. his eyes practically gleam and he breaks out into the widest, sunniest smile repeating “really? really really? like, seriously? you’re not making fun of me, right? i’ll get really sad if you’re just teasing”…w his big doe eyes n hopeful face, who wouldn’t give him anything his lil heart desires

he’s ready to go right away, you may actually have to stop him from running to go retrieve his strap and bring it to you right then and there 😭 he’s so grateful and so enthusiastic, neither of you really anticipates the sudden bout of shyness that inevitably hits him once you actually start to lead up into the pegging. he’s fingered himself plenty of times before, and that knowledge makes for the perfect opportunity for you to tease him a lil, telling him to finger himself open in front of you so you can see how he likes it slide into him w ease~ he whines like crazy but still does his best to obey…lying down n spreading his legs for you, unable to mask the neediest whimpers that build in his throat the more he pushes into himself, wishing it was you instead. though his face is burning w embarrassment, he also sees it as a good opportunity to appeal to you, too. he tries to show you a preview of how pretty he’ll look once you finally fuck him, playing out his moans and facial expressions to rile you up. eventually, though, his patience wears thin and he just starts begging for you to take over ): after all, poor hannie has done this alone far too many times, he needs you. he’s so ridiculously squirmy once you finally ease into him, to the point where you might have to hold him down or restrain him somehow so you can fuck him properly. it’s difficult for him to sit still no matter how hard he tries, he’s just so full of energy and reactive to every lil bit of stimulation, keening desperately when you pull out of him and gasping dramatically when you thrust back in all at once. he’s never felt this full in his life and he feels like he could sob from relief finally getting to experience it. he wants to try everything—one minute he wants you to take him softly n sensually, the next he wants you pounding into him. he’d keep begging for smth new every few minutes bc he’s so eager he’s just aching to try it all, like he might not get the chance to again. that goes for positions too; missionary, mating press, doggy, full nelson, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, etc. he esp loves riding you bc he feels like he’s putting on a show for you! he gets to bask in all your attention and praises as he bounces on your strap, not bothering to hold back his whines and moans in the slightest bc he knows how much you love them <3 if you could manage to hold him up against a wall and fuck him like that w his legs hooked around your waist, he would absolutely lose his mind, he likes being manhandled a lil bit too. he wants you to just completely wreck him in every way possible, to the point where he’s covered w hickeys and bite marks and can barely walk afterwards. he will most definitely try to subtly brag abt it to the other boys abt it the next day, complaining abt how sore he is and letting out cute, exaggerated noises of discomfort when he sits down or exerts himself too hard…he’s a lil proud of it hehe but if anyone actually points it out he’ll turn beet red and curl into himself, trying not to get turned on all over again from the mere memory of what you did to him

felix - curious kitty #2! in lix’s case, it’s not really a matter of if, but when. pegging is smth he’s always wanted to try out given how eager he is to explore every kink under the sun w you, to him it’s more a matter of whether or not you would be willing to. you both fall into the roles so naturally in a way he's longed for his entire life, and once that trust is established n fostered between the two of you, he’s more than ready to give you his all knowing that he’ll be safe n accepted w you <3 even if he's a lil reserved n awkward abt it, he really makes it no secret what he wants, and he has the added privilege of looking so unfairly innocuous even when asking you to do the wildest things to him…you never quite know what to expect from him next. he’s definitely experimented w fingering himself in the past, but bc his fingers are so small a lot of the time it’s difficult for him to hit the right angles or satisfy himself properly, so he just ends up even more frustrated and needy, wishing you were the one fucking him instead ):

lixie’s a very thoughtful boy just like chan and lino, he wants to make things go as smoothly as possible to show you how grateful he is that you would do this for him! but he ends up being pretty reliant on you through the whole process, he can’t help but look to you for guidance on every little thing so his tendency to overthink means you might have to coddle him a lil more than usual ㅠㅠ he’s so sweet and obedient though, literally the good boy of your dreams following each gentle command you give him w a giddy smile. like minho, he’d absolutely love to suck your strap beforehand, both as a way to get it nice n wet and to turn you on…do not fall for those big, angelic eyes looking up at you as he takes the toy as far down his throat as he can…he knows exactly what he’s doing ❤️‍🔥 it also eases his mind a bit to be able to do smth for you, he gets so into it he almost forgets what’s to come and would gladly keep going until his voice is hoarse. once you first enter him (w plenty of lube…i think lix would need it hehe) he’d also love to just stay that way for a bit and “cockwarm” you…he gets a lil sappy abt it and just wants to be in your lap, face to face w you nestled inside him as he adjusts to the stretch. w lots n lots of kissing!! eventually though he starts to get a lil squirmy, letting out soft lil grunts, and you can feel him growing harder where his cock is wedged between the two of you. so you grab hold of his waist and encourage him to start riding you <3 lix would be another one who loves positions where he can feel small, even if he’s bigger than you! he’d feel so safe and secure nuzzling into your neck as he bounces on your lap, and being held down w his legs over his head in a mating press would make his brain melt into mush. i think his favorite would definitely be full nelson though hehe…smth abt how helpless and exposed he is in that position turns him on to an insane degree. he’d also definitely find a way to hold your hands in whichever position you take <3 the noises he makes start out very low and husky w your careful thrusts, but the more you pick up the pace the higher and louder his voice gets. he sounds so sweet and angelic, the moment you first hit his prostate he makes a sound that you have trouble even believing came from him bc of how squeaky it comes out, like a cute lil shout. if you had him in missionary, his legs would be wrapped tight around you the entire time, making it a lil more difficult to move bc he’s got some strong thighs but the gesture is so cute u dont mind. it also makes for the perfect opportunity to tease him that he must want you to finish inside him n fill him up…you can physically see the effect those words have on him. his eyes go so wide and his whole body shudders, and just like that he’s climaxing <3 a few days later you’ve got lixie looking innocent as ever, beaming at you as he presents you w the new ejaculating strap he got to make it a reality hehe

seungmin - minnie is shy!! not necessarily in the giggly, blushy, stuttery way like chan. seungmin is more modest, reserved, and quiet—a lil awkward abt it. out of all the boys, i think he would be the least inclined to try pegging, and he definitely isn’t the one to bring it up, so that’s all in your hands. when you suggest incorporating it into your dynamic, at first he’d probably be pretty unwilling to explore it and just flat out says no bc he just doesn’t think he could feel fully comfortable w smth like that. but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t spend a lot of time mulling it over in private, even after he’s initially rejected the idea. his lil analytical virgo brain starts to think abt why you’d be interested in pegging in the first place, the new kinds of pleasure it would bring you both, the intimacy of an act like that, and how it might bring you and him closer together to experience. do not be fooled by his composure, kim seungmin is a sentimental softie who is very in touch w his emotions!! his desire to connect w you however he can extends to all facets of your relationship, and as daunting as the vulnerability of subbing can be for him sometimes, that vulnerability is the exact same reason why he values it so much. so, eventually, he decides that the same can be applied to bottoming for the first time and he changes his own mind hehe

he wants to be good for you. he’s so disciplined and obedient, he takes it very seriously and is genuinely a perfect sub (when he wants to be lol, sometimes he’s difficult on purpose) but when trying smth so out of his wheelhouse for the first time, he has some trouble shaking the awkwardness which makes him a lil stiff, a bit less pliant than usual. poor seungmo can’t help but be hyperaware of every sound he lets slip out, every expression he makes, every embarrassing, involuntary reaction his body has to your minstrations. so you can imagine how all of that would be turned up to a 100 when it comes to pegging bc all the focus is on him and his pleasure. he isn’t used to having that degree of attention on his body, esp not…those parts of his body. he’s even shyer than you’re used to during foreplay, just letting a few sighs and grunts slip and looking away timidly when you stare at him for too long. you’d have to be extra observant of his reactions and facial expressions to see what he likes the most, bc he has a tendency to suppress himself. one thing he does make sure to do though is periodically let you know that he’s still okay, through a quick lil nod or hand squeeze. he’d prefer to start out w him lying on his tummy, not facing you. it spares him the embarrassment of you seeing his features twist in pleasure, and he can also push his face into the pillows to mask all his noises. he might wanna wear a big hoodie or sweater to cover up his body too. i think he’d spend extra time adjusting in comparison to the other boys, partially bc he’s nervous n partially bc he wants to bask in the moment a bit. kinda like lix, he really values the closeness of just being connected like that and stays unmoving w you inside him for a while <3 he starts off swallowing down his noises so they only come out as cute, hushed lil whimpers, but as you start to ease in and out of him, even he can’t hold back as much as he wants to. it feels so strange but so relieving, almost like you’re fulfilling a desire he hadn’t even known was there until now. he mostly lets out gentle exhales and mewls, and when you hit his sweet spot for the first time, a full on gasp, which is pretty dramatic for seungmin hehe. even if you can’t see his expressions, you can see his fingers digging into the sheets and his muscles clenching with effort and his hips starting to rock into the mattress. if you leaned down to press kisses down his spine, he would shudder so beautifully n let out the sweetest moan for you. when he’s far gone enough to give in completely to the pleasure, he goes limp beneath you and allows you to flip him over so you can finally get a look at his pretty blissed out face. and when you do, he looks up at you w the most adoring lovestruck puppy gaze like you put the stars in the sky, just pure hearts floating in his big brown eyes that immediately lets you know he’s way more into this than either of you thought he’d be 🥰

jeongin - like binnie, i think there’s a good chance he might be kinda clueless as to what pegging even really is, so he wouldn’t be the one to suggest it first or even consider it an option. when you first introduce the idea to him, poor innie sputters smth like “eh? that’s a thing????” and you can practically see a whole new world of possibilities opening up in his wide, sparkly eyes. it makes his heart race a bit if he’s being honest, but he also feels a lil unsure abt it bc he’s never even really thought abt having anything…go inside of him…just imagining it gets him all squirmy, red in the face, n playing nervously w his ears. he’d probably call you a perv at first for even wanting smth like that and acts like he isn’t interested in trying it…however…just like seungmin, do not be fooled!! he spends the next several days thinking abt it, maybe a lil too often. in innie’s case he keeps going back to it partially out of curiosity, and partially bc he is very much a pleaser who craves your approval deep down, almost to the same degree as chan and jisung. he just doesn’t want you to know that hehe…unfortunately for him it’s kinda obvious in the way he brings it up many times afterwards, mostly through asking questions that he thinks are casual like “so…*clears throat* how big would it even be?” or “is it really supposed to feel that good?” or even nagging you like “seriously, why’d you have to say smth so weird? now i can’t stop thinking abt it” w lots of awkward giggles to make it seem like a joke but when he’s constantly making lil comments abt it unprovoked you quickly start to catch on hehe…he looks so genuinely hopeful and curious without even realizing, you can’t help but tease him a bit for how transparent he is

i think innie really wants to impress you! as you’re leading into the pegging he’s extra nervous and kinda out of his element, bc he feels like he can’t really do anything to appeal to you like usual…he sometimes tends to lean into the role of a service sub bc he feeds off your praises like nothing else. he loves when you teach him how to please you properly, even more so when he does it right and earns a proud reaction from you, a moan or a headpat and a "good boy". but when he’s the one getting all the pleasure…well, as much as he craves being the center of your attention, he inevitably gets a bit bashful. he will be hiding his face a lot, covering his eyes w his fingers or clamping his hand over his mouth trying to stifle himself bc the sounds that are leaving his lips are embarrassingly loud. like channie, he'd need a lot of praise and reassurance through it all! he can't even try to pretend like he's confident or knows what he's doing, and the entire time he's watching you w the widest, most fascinated gaze that gives away how much he really depends on you to guide him through it. he giggles so much, both out of shyness and in an attempt to ease his nerves. he can barely get a sentence out without tripping over his words or letting out breathy lil chuckles, and you have to periodically remind him to loosen up a bit as you're fingering him open bc he stiffens every time a jolt of pleasure passes through him. it’s all so unfamiliar but so good, he feels like he has no control over his body anymore, and that only amplifies once you actually slide your strap inside. he is gasping and writhing and letting out the most shameless moans he's ever heard in his life, but as much as it makes his face burn red, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself no matter how hard he tried. the best way to get him to relax and completely melt into it is to whisper sweet words to him through it all, tell him how pretty he looks and sounds when he’s feeling good, how well he's taking every inch of you even when he’s so tight, how he's such a good boy and a fast learner <3 jeongin quickly learns that the praises you give him simply for getting fucked into a cute moaning mess make his brain short circuit like nothing else, he could get addicted to it. i think he’s one of the most likely to go a lil dumb from it hehe…he leans a lot more into the guilty pleasure side of him that’s used to being pampered n doted on~

[sugawarassoccerlover]

Remedial Meals

A/n: been very fed up with my body today, it refuses to cooperate with me & I was playing book 4 so I got the idea for this. Self indulgent shit. It’s probably OOC bc I don’t know the characters too well but I love them

Warnings: health issues, childhood neglect, starvation, reader gets a little sick

Pairings: (ALL PLATONIC!) Riddle & reader, Kalim & reader

Description: reader has health issues because of their trauma, and has tried their best to keep it from their new friends at NRC. Unfortunately, something that ails you every time you eat isn’t so easily hidden

Riddle

Admittedly, he had been pretty preoccupied with house warden matters so it took him a bit to notice that your behavior was off. But… every tea party, every meal, the way you scurried off each time made him worry. He thought it was nothing at first, as he didn’t notice it every time

But things added up. He began to realize this wasn’t just an occasional thing. Now, when you, Riddle, and the third years were sharing a meal together, you began to feel the consequences. Ah shit, you were going to be sick. You didn’t want them to notice, didn’t want them to worry, so you sat up and excused yourself.

Riddle, Trey, and Cater exchanged a look before nodding at you.

You went to the bathroom, but the pain got so strong you had to sit on the floor. It was throbbing and you couldn’t make it stop. You tried shifting the way you were sitting multiple times, it didn’t work. You clutched your stomach, leaning against the cupboards below the sink, and sighed. This sucked.

“Yuu?” Riddle knocked on the door. “Are you okay?”

Shit. How long had you been in there? Had you been too obvious?

“Yuu?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine!”

“Are you sure? You… do this a lot.”

“What do you mean?” You tried to feign ignorance.

“Run off after eating, I mean,” Riddle replies. “Are you….?”

You hadn’t normally ever heard Riddle be like this before, at a loss for what to do. You must have had him pretty concerned.

You sighed. Might as well tell him. You figured you wouldn’t be able to keep this hidden forever. It wouldn’t have been long before you ended up burdening your friends

Grimacing at the way it made your stomach hurt, you forced yourself to stand up and go to the door, unlocking it. You hated the way you couldn’t move without upsetting your body, but you had to

When you opened the door, you were met with Riddle’s concerned face. You smiled awkwardly at him before sitting down once again, on the floor of the hallway. Riddle looked at you in confusion.

You pat the floor next to you “sit down and I’ll tell you a story” you tried to be dramatic

“We can sit at the table, or in the lounge, I believe that would be more appropr-“

“As much as I’d love to, I’d rather not anger my body any more by moving,” you said with a playful tone.

“What?”

“My intestines are revolting against me and I fear if I move I will make them worse.”

“We should get you to the nurse’s office if it’s that bad,” Riddle spoke with concern.

“Nah, nah, it’s normal don’t worry.” You waved your hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry? Yuu, that is very worrisome. Such conditions should not be normal.”

“I guess I should say it’s normal for me. I’m used to it by now.”

Riddle furrowed his brows. “But being used to something doesn’t make it healthy or normal, Yuu. Pain in the intestines can be a sign of several underlying medical conditions.”

You laughed. “I should have expected you to take this more seriously than even me.”

“Of course I take it seriously. Health is an important matter that shouldn’t be ignored,” Riddle spoke firmly, but the concern was obvious in his tone.

“No its-“ You sigh. “I appreciate the concern, Riddle, it’s very sweet of you but I mean it when I say don’t worry. This is just how my body is. This just happens. It’s inconvenient at most, I promise.”

“Even so it’s.. alarming that that’s how your body is. Is there nothing I can do to help? Or make it better?”Riddle asked earnestly.

“Well, medicine helps it not be so bad,” you shrug.

“Why haven’t you asked for it before?” Riddle frowns. “If I knew about this sooner, I would’ve ensured you got the proper medicine whenever this happens.”

“I didn’t want to be a bother, I guess,” you look at the floor.

“It’s not a bother if it pertains to your wellbeing. This should be a basic necessity.”

From then on Riddle was extra aware of you anytime you had parties with snacks, or meals with the Heartslabyul students. He made sure you got medicine with your food during each meal, and even sent one of the third years to bring you some when you would eat at the cafeteria instead of with them.

Once they were made aware, Trey and Cater made sure to take note of what foods upset your body less. Mysteriously, you noticed those foods served more frequently when you ate with them. And even in the cafeteria, Ace and Deuce would insist they trade meals with you when yours included worse irritants.

“If I can help it, you’re not going to struggle any more than you need to. If it gets worse, let me know so I can arrange something.”

Kalim Al Asim

You could never turn down Kalim whenever he invited you to the Scarabia dorm to eat. He was always so generous to you, and it would have felt wrong to not accept. However… Kalim could be a bit much.

His enthusiasm was never for no reason, after all, he was right, the food was good. You had already eaten, definitely not enough to get your fill, but enough so you wouldn’t be too hungry, and it was a safe amount that probably wouldn’t make you sick.

You knew you over calculated the second Kalim sat you down to have you try a bit of every dish Jamil had prepared. Just looking at the amount of food already made your stomach churn. You frowned, unsure of what to do. It would be rude of you to turn him down, but you know your body would get even more upset if you ate anything more.

Unfortunately for you, your body decided you wouldn’t get the time to think about it, and the familiar ache came to you. You bit your lip, hoping Kalim wouldn’t notice.

“Hey, Yuu? Are you okay? Are you really that hungry, here you should eat this one first, it-“

You shook your head, putting a hand on your abdomen when the sickness worsened. “No, no I already ate, this is just..”

There was a look of confusion on Kalim’s face for a moment, only a moment, until it morphed into worry. “Yuu? What did you eat? What are you feeling? Are you lightheaded, or just sick to your stomach?”

His concern was almost sweet, but he seemed panicked. “Kalim-“

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine, just- uh, JAMIL!”

“Yes, Kalim?” Jamil snapped to attention.

“I think Yuu was poisoned, we need to get them help right now,” Kalim spoke with urgency.

“Kalim-“

“Are you feeling worse?” You were convinced now that Kalim felt worse than you. You had gotten used to this by now but… yeah, it was probably the smart decision to hide your condition, if he was going to react like this

Jamil sighed, crouching in front of you. “Was there anything off about the food you ate last?”

You shook your head. “No. I’ve been meaning to tell Kalim, I wasn’t poisoned.”

“You can’t be sure, you never kn-“

You grab the white haired boy by the shoulders, making eye contact with him. “Kalim. I wasn’t poisoned. Though, it wouldn’t exactly be wrong to say that all food is basically poison to me…” you trail off, your tone getting bitter. “But that’s not the point. I know I wasn’t poisoned.”

Kalim frowned. “All food is basically poison to you? What do you mean? Are you allergic?”

You sigh. Woud you really have to explain the full thing to him? He seemed very worried for you, and probably wouldn’t stop worrying until you explained. “No, I’m not allergic. Ironically, I’m not allergic to anything. I just… because of stuff, my body… doesn’t handle food well.”

“Stuff?”

“…Alright. I uh. Was starved, for awhile.”

“STARVED?!”

You fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “Yeah. Didn’t have much to eat for awhile. Almost… 2 years, I’d say.”

Kalim frowned. “That’s awful! I knew some people struggled financially but not even being able to afford food is horrible!”

You scoff. “It’s not that we couldn’t afford it. My dad just. Didn’t buy any, very often. For me at least. He got enough to eat, but I guess I’m not worth food or whatever.” You chuckled dryly, trying to force humor

“What? No! Everyone is worth food, especially you! That’s a terrible thing to think,” Kalim huffed passionately. “Man that makes me so sad.”

“Why does it make you sad? It’s my life. It’s not like it affects you,” you frown in confusion.

“I wish I had met you much sooner, than you wouldn’t have starved! I would have given you food every day so you would be fine!”

You smiled. “That’s very thoughtful of you. But it is what it is. I’m just mildly inconvenienced by this body of mine now.”

“Is there something I can do now? Like is there anything you need? Something I can get you? There has to be a way I can help,” he insisted.

“Mmm, not really. I usually just wait around until I feel normal again.”

“That’s not a very good way to live! Getting sick from food and not doing anything about it,” Kalim seemed genuinely upset for you.

“Well, back home I took medicine that helped lessen it a little,” you shrugged.

Jamil interrupted, “I believe I know a medicine that may work. Is it nausea and pain?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but you don’t have to. I’m fine.”

“No way, you’re my friend, we’re going to help you!” Kalim immediately insisted.

You smile and roll your eyes sarcastically. “Of course. Well… thank you.”

“It’s no problem! Are you completely sure there’s nothing else we can do?”

“Well, I guess there’s some foods that irritate my body a little less than others. But I couldn’t ask you to go out of your way to get me them or anything,” you picked at your shirt.

“No, you can! If it helps make things better for you, of course I’d get them for you. Jamil would definitely be willing to cook them!”

As you listed off the foods that were less irritant, Kalim listened intently, but Jamil on the side made a mental note of each one you mentioned. You noticed that the next times you visited, all the food served to you included only the things you mentioned.

Kalim made sure to invite you over to the Scarabia dorm often, claiming “that cafeteria is making you sick so you should eat with us every day instead!” He would eat some of the things made for you as well, not out of greed, but rather because he didn’t want to eat what you “couldn’t”.

“You need to eat, your health is important so Jamil will make whatever is best for your health! No arguments!”

[trashbinbells]

Mha Rant #1

Okay bc let’s talk about it.

WARNING: POSSIBLE MHA SPOILERS

I feel like the LOV isn’t redeemable, i know a lot of ppl would disagree with me for varying reasons, but i genuinely don’t think they’re redeemable no matter how hard we wish they were, maybe if they got help earlier maybe. but currently no.

And i say this in the same way i say that Bakudeku isn’t toxic, well middle school bakudeku is very fucking toxic, but UA Bakudeku isn’t, and before anyone tries to @ me, i’m not a fan of bakudeku, i just prefer other ships and prefer their friendship over anything else, but i will occasionally read it, the same with tododeku.

 Bakugou was a shitty person in the past. and i will forever roast and bully /j middle school and Early UA bakugou, but we should really look at the progress he’s made, like going from and absolute piece of shit to a decent human being is actually pretty fucking major progress, bakugou also shows that just because he’s an asshole, it doesn’t mean he’s a douche piece of shit that doesn’t give a damn about anyone else, like- bakugou can be an asshole and still be a decent person at the same time.

My issue with ppl calling Izuku a crybaby, like bruv, have y’all SEEN half the shit he goes through 🤨 i would be crying too. and crying is an healthy outlet to emotions your body and mind can’t handle🧍🏿‍♀️

there’s so much damn discourse in the Mha community that i bet i wouldn’t be able to cover with only 3 posts, but i’m just here to talk about my fair sharif of opinions that’s all😔

also lemme say something fanfic wise, now you see, i love ooc izuku, i really do, but sometimes it just gets too out of hand to the point i’m incapable of enjoying it at all, like i used to watch those ‘What if Izuku’ videos and those were a lot more enjoyable, bc truly the world building, the description, the freedom that those guys used was fucking amazing truth be told.

but sometimes fanfics make ooc unenjoyable, but on the off hand i desperately love canon divergence, especially when ooc is done really well i have so many ideas for ooc Au’s that i can’t even point a fav one.

[wwwcapricorncom]

“I Want To Play A Game”

Second part to the Ghostface series | Apart of Kinktober 2021

Ghostface Series Pt. 1 is here (you don’t have to read them in order!)

Who is under the mask this time ;)?

REUPLOAD BC IT GOT FLAGGED UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCKKKKFJKJENKJRFNKJEB so run the likes and reblogs up again ???? T^T

Description: You didn’t think that flirting with Ghostface in a haunted House would leave you so... helpless.

➥➥ Included Kinks: Oral (F and M Receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, Slight darker themes such a power dynamics, restraints, slight blackmail ig if you squint, orgasm denial, face fucking, gagging, hair pulling, smacking, some exhibitionism, anal play, squirting. Use of the words- ‘daddy’, ‘brat’, ‘slut’. Characters are aged up. MINORS DNI.

wc: 5.4 k

You walk past the line of excited and partially tipsy college students to the side entrance that Jirou had told you would be on the north side of the building. You thought you were running late, but had received a text not too long ago from her, saying the opening of the haunted house was going to be pushed back an hour or so and to take your time. The problem was that you were already just about there when you had received the text so you figured you would still go inside to aid her and the others in setting up the room within the house.

You had figured you’d easily stumble upon the evil doctor themed room or that you’d see someone who, by your costume: a rather dark themed slutty nurse, would point you in the right direction. However, after aimlessly walking into the wrong rooms and not seeing anybody occupying them, you started to feel a bit lost. You remember her saying that you all would be on the first floor, so you are confused as to why you haven’t discovered them.

At this point, there is one room left and to the right of the door, on its wall, is a large glass mirror. You feel it is fitting of the theme so you fling the door open and see that it is dimly lit inside and only decorated with some light blood on the walls and a table in the center which seems to have restraints on it. The door closing startles you enough to make you yelp which alerts the other person in the room.

“Holy- holy shit I didn’t see you there-

You stop talking as the person turns around and you see who they are dressed up as, “oh Mr.Ghostface how original.”

“And what are you supposed to be?” The person inquires and you can hear the dull, unimpressed tone that laces his voice even though the voice changer.

You pout, walking up to him and doing a little twirl before his eyes, “c’mon Mr.Ghostface I’m a slutty nurse can’t you see or should I give you a better look?” You tease and you can hear him click his tongue in annoyance.

“You’re too eventful. It’s annoying enough that I have to participate in this haunted house. I can’t handle you too-

“You don’t mean that, do you? I’m sure you were just sitting around here bored, why wouldn’t you want to have some fun. Matter of fact, I have some time to spare too!” You giggle actually very amused by the person under the mask. You loved the game of not getting enough attention from someone acting high and mighty just for them to succumb to you eventually. You were also eager to see who you were going to be able to sink your claws into, what unsuspected boytoy laid under that mask.

“It was quiet when you weren’t here though.” He states as he crosses his arms over his very defined chest. He is only wearing a black t-shirt so you can see the definitions of his upper body not to mention the muscles of his strong arms. Black ripped jeans adorn his long legs as you calculate he must be about 6 feet or so. All contributing to your throbbing cunt at this point.

You feign ignorance, “quiet and boring.” You say as you cross your arms too.

He sighs as he starts tapping his foot on the floor, “what do you want from me?”

A wicked smile forms on your face as you say, “duh to play a game!” All the while meaning much more provocative activities. If he didn’t have a mask on then you would have seen how he rolled his eyes, but bit his lip at the naughtier idea that, too, popped up in his mind. Maybe this could be fun, he starts to think, after all he has always had his eyes on you. A lot more than he’d like to admit and low and behold you come strutting into his room, just asking to be put into your place.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Hello you’re the one who is Ghostface, you should know.”

“Hmhm… I see... What's your favorite scary movie, Miss nurse?” He asks and you just about die hearing the condensing tone in his voice. You lick your lips, as you look up at him about to spew an answer.

“The one where the man dressed as Ghostface fucks the little helpless nurse.”

Now, knowing that you two are in sync in your desires, the man decides it’s really time to have fun, “I’ve never heard of it.” He smirks and you pout, rolling your eyes and backing away from him which makes him chuckle.

You start to pay attention to the decorations in the room a bit more in detail as you scheme something up to provoke the man, “you’re a bit mean huh?” You mutter finally nearing the table in the center of the room.

Your eyebrows knit together as you try to figure out how one would be restrained to it before it finally comes together. A small hum comes out of your mouth as you lean forward so that you’re bent over on the table. Breasts press against the wooden top as you place your hands through the little metal clasps.

“Is this how your dirty little contraption works?” You laugh as you shake your ass a bit, but halt quickly as you feel his presence behind you. So suddenly.

He’s clasping the constraints in a flash, so that your wrists are bound to the table while, rasping a “no” as he fixes you just how he wants. You’re shocked at this, not understanding how he switched from being so uninterested to alert. You start stuttering, “h-hey what are-are you doing?!”

He’s only humming at this, bending down to catch your ankle and clasp it to one leg of the table before doing the same to the other. By the end of it, you’re effectively confined to the table with legs spread apart, “this is how it works”.

Your heart is hammering against your chest as he runs a finger up the back of your thigh, admiring his work before reaching the frilly skirt that very poorly covers your ass. He wastes no time in flicking it upwards to expose your cute red panties, licking his lips as he notices the darkening wet spot on them. How cute.

“Ah, you’re a lot quieter now I thought you wanted to make a movie?” He coos and all you can do is stutter, completely flustered by the change in dynamics. How did he get the upper hand? You think, skin breaking out in goosebumps as he continues to trail his finger over your flesh.

A harsh slap lands on your ass and you just know the skin is reddening and rising as you let out a cute pained, moan. “Answer me, do you want to continue?”

You whimper attempting to shake your ass for him as you nod your head which lies on the table, “this is nothing I can’t handle.” He shakes his head and lands another slap to your ass loving how it bounces and bruises so easily under his touch.

“What a modest nurse, good then, I'll enjoy seeing just how far you can go.”

Something about that makes your stomach bloom in hot anticipation as he pulls down your red panties, a rush of cold air hitting your cunt and making you squirm. You can hear the floorboards creak under the pressure of his dirty converse shoes as he squats down behind you, using one of his fingers to spread your pussy lip.

“Fuck.” You whisper, loving how exposed you are to him, knowing that some stranger is watching your pussy hole clench and unclench with the want of something as it grows wetter.

He whistles lowly at this, impressed by “how much of a dirty little slut you are.” He then runs two fingers up your pussy and it makes you quiver a bit which he enjoys, watching those sweet plush thighs and full asscheeks jiggle in his face. Gosh he’s going to wreck you just right he thinks.

He stands up abruptly and bends over you so that his chest is against your back before weaving his middle finger through your soaked folds, “this is pretty sinful of you baby”. He states as he increases the speed of his finger, finally allowing it to rub against your clit.

“Don’t care, don't care I-I just want them inside.” You state wagging your ass from side to side in hopes that he would listen.

“I'm going to make a brat like you understand how to act in the presence of a real dom.” He growls as he pulls his finger away from your cunt to slap it roughly and you gasp loudly, jolting forward some.

You begin to protest again, “but- but I want it already. Stop teasing me!” He only chuckles, his eager bulge under his jeans beginning to press against your folds. The friction makes you optimistic as you both begin to grind into each other. His coarse hands grabbing your hips to further the rolling of his hips even thrusting into you which creates a soft omph noise.

“Now the games really start…” He mumbles and suddenly he’s swirling two fingers around your clit, “If you listen to me, then you’ll get to cum very hard tonight. If you don’t listen then you’ll be very disappointed. Understand?”

You nod your head slowly while starting to indulge in his ministrations which causes him to grunt before yanking your head up by your hair. Your eyes fly open because in the same instance of his pulling, he’s plugging those two fingers into your pussy hole.

“Use your fucking words when I’m talking to you.”

You choke on a moan, “ye-essss yess! I understand!”

“Good girl.” He replies loosening his hold on your hair as he starts to rake his fingers through it, massaging your scalp where you’d have an undeniable ache because of his yanking. You couldn’t help but feel oddly warm and turned on by his approval, succumbing to his actions.

He is good at multitasking in this way as he gently massages your scalp, but starts to completely piston his middle and ring finger into your pussy, “fu-uck yes yes!” You groan bouncing back into his fingers now wanting to push them further in, wanting them to touch your g spot.

He would have scolded you for acting without his permission, but the way your ass bounces on his fingers is something he is starting to relish, watching the flesh ripple upon every impact with his hand. The masked man finds himself wanting to see more, so he starts to twist his finger around in your pussy, knocking into your sweet spot and making you cry out.

“You’re leaking so nicely right now.” He purrs, “your fingers are so l-long!” You state as he starts to curl into your g spot, abusing it repeatedly as if he was smashing a button over and over again. Your slick is running down his palm and wrist as you start to fall victim to his fingers.

He picks up on this like a pro, “are you about to cum sweetheart?'' he asks, getting close to your ear. The weight of him against your back again, his warmth, just heightens the orgasm that was approaching.

“Yes, ‘m gonna cum! Gonna cum!”

He snickers at this as he pumps faster, only uttering one word at that moment: “Don’t.” You, through the fog of it all, try to turn your head to look at him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion and strain, “w-why, what do you-

“I’m not going to let you.” He cuts off your rambling as he pulls his fingers out of you, making your legs shake as your orgasm trickles away, so close to having bubbled over. Your lip quivers and he’s snickering all over again, “I’m just training you baby. You waltzed in here like such a fucking brat it would be a shame if I didn’t correct you!”

As you’re trying to find the right words to articulate how angry you are, he squats down before your pussy again. Your anger starts to dissolve as the hairs on your body stand to attention because you can feel his breath on you. That means his mask has to be slightly elevated if not completely off. Just as you're about to try and turn your head to get a better angle he’s smacking your thigh, “keep your eyes ahead or else.”

Biting your lip, you decide to obey and he's quickly pressing his lips to your pussy which has your back arching. A long “oooo” leaves your lips as he begins to make out with your pussy, his own soft lips moving as if he were making out with an actual mouth. He gulps a few times before sucking and slurping again, suckling your folds into his mouth and between his lips where he pulls at them slightly. “-taste amazing”, he speaks into your folds.

If you weren’t restrained right now then your hand would be on his head right now, stuffing him as far as he could go, not caring about if he could breathe because he was damn good at this. When he pulls back again he spits on your clenching hole which makes you moan, the feeling of his hot glob of spit strategically landing right on your entrance before he starts spreading it around with his fingers was making drops of sweat form on your skin.

He slips them back in again before warning you, “don’t cum.” His voice was low and raspy and it was oh so familiar. If you weren’t being such a slut in lust right now you’d surely be able to identify him, but any intelligence is lost when he starts to pump his fingers into your tiny hole while sucking on your clit. He’s growling and moaning in harmony with the squelching of your obnoxiously soaked pussy.

“How a-am I not supposed to cum?” You shriek as he starts to get harsher and sloppier with his movements, pumping into your g spot ever so deliciously while shaking his head from side to side in your cunt. You’re reaching your peak when he starts lapping at you with a hot, flat tongue feeling the coil in your stomach about to snap.

“I can't, I'm going to- cum!” You yell and as soon as this leaves your mouth, he leaves you. The frustration makes you ball your hands into fists.

“This shit isn’t fair!” You shout and he tsks pulling your hair swiftly again, “that fucking mouth of yours is such a problem.” He harshly let’s you go before making his way to the front edge of the table, walking up to it so that his struggling, defined bulge is in your face. You flick your eyes back and forth between it and his masked face.

“I’d be impressed if you can handle this. In fact it might even warrant a reward.” He states as he pulls his shirt up, holding it under his chin as he unbuttons and unzips his pants. You ponder disobeying, but you weren’t in a position to act much bratty plus you were more than ready to cum and if that meant seeing this through a bit more then fine.

He’s yanking down his underwear and jeans slightly, allowing his big cock to slap against his stomach and your face. You can see that the pretty, pink tip has already started leaking with precum and you’re quick to swipe at it with your tongue.

“Oh fuck- very good girl.” He groans as he thrusts slightly forward, making his cock slide into your mouth before he hesitates then pulls entirely back out.

“Look, um the safe word is Halloween okay?” He’s serious too not having any intentions on letting whatever the fuck this is get out of hand and you slightly swoon, “thank you”.

He hums at this, realizing you’re very cute in any context as you open your mouth and stick your tongue out as a signal to continue. He grabs his throbbing cock and pushes it into your mouth, but doesn’t stop until he’s bottomed out. Your nose presses cutely to his pubic bone as you gag, legs shaking as he moves to retract only half way, watching as you inhale sharply. Your eyes are glassy already and they squeeze shut when he thrusts back inside.

You’re moaning and trying to swirl your tongue and suck him as he starts to find a pace to quite literally fuck your face to. He’s tightly cupping your face with both hands as he starts to rhythmically snap his hips forward. You only have a few seconds in between to breathe and your throat is beginning to raw, but you like the way he is using your mouth like his own plaything. It turns you on and has you getting slicker by the second.

At one point, he bottoms out in your throat and puts his hands on the back of your head, keeping you there for as long as you can hold before he starts to feel you pulling back. He frees you, completely pulling out of your mouth where you can’t help but sputter, saliva dripping from your mouth and his cock.

“Puker those sexy fucking lips up for daddy.”

And you do, sniffling a bit to collect yourself before puckering your redden lips, he groans before taking his wet cock in hand. He pumps into his fist a couple of times as you watch in awe before slapping it against your lips. He smears your saliva and his precum everywhere- on your lips, cheeks and nose.

When he starts fucking your mouth again, he’s moaning subtly as he picks up the speed feeling his own release nearing.

“You’re talking daddies cock so well, fuck yes you are.” He mumbles bending over you to start to toy with your pussy again. To show him you like it, you start bobbing your head faster to his thrusts as he starts to insert his fingers inside you.

As soon as you feel them fully slot inside, you’re moaning contently around his dick, the vibrations making the man’s toes curl as he starts to fuck into your mouth harsher. You’re a gagging, moaning mess working on pleasing him while also focusing on how he’s attacking your sweet spot again. You didn’t need much now, no, you’d cum without even giving him a warning. It’s your plan. He will be too distracted.

Your legs start to shake so harshly, your mouth producing more saliva as you literally drool at how hard you can feel your orgasm coming. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as you almost go slack about to be overcome by pleasure when he does it again.

Completely pulls away from you. Ruining yet another orgasm.

A sob so harsh rips through your gut as tears fall from your eyes, “awwwww” he coos while grabbing your face in his large hands to make you look up at him.

“Now this. This is a broken brat. You look beautiful like this.” He is fake pouting under the mask.

“P-please daddy I’m - I’m ready to not be a brat. I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry. Just please please let me cum!” You throw out everything you think he wants to hear and then some and he’s utterly satisfied, bending down and resting the side of his face against the wood table, mimicking yours. Neat black painted nails reach out and wipe away the fresh tears that have fallen from your teary eyes “hush hush baby, no need to get all worked up especially after how good you just took this cock down your throat. Daddies going to keep his promise.”

You sniffle a bit at this, moving into his touch unsure on if he is telling the truth or not. He can sense your weariness as he stands up and walks around the table so that he is finally against you again. He wastes no time in gripping his member in his hand and rubbing the tip against your folds, “You believe daddy right?”

If possible, you arch into the table even more ass sticking out as a jolt of pleasure rips through your body at the micro action, “I b-believe you!”

He’s smirking at this as he pushes the bulbous tip in your needy hole, making you cry out while spit pools in the corners of your mouth and escapes down your chin as he pushes further inside. As soon as his hips smack against your ass and he is fully plunged within your thirsty walls your vision is spotting. You cum hard, ignoring how he struggles to hold back a moan of surprise as you shake violently.

“Did you… did you just cum?” He asks truthfully dumbfounded by this and you're apologizing profusely.

“I-I - I’m so sorry daddy please I couldn’t help it, just feels so good-  please don't stop please please-

He’s cupping your throat now as his other hand bunches the fabric of your skirt to aid him in his upcoming onslaught, “shh sh sh...such a sexy slut for that. You go ahead and indulge in this cock. I want you to remember everything, how every fucking vein feels.” He states as he begins to snap his hips into you slowly, knocking the air out of your lungs as he holds you up by your throat.

Each thrust is calculated, rubbing every crevice as you start to moan unceremoniously. Whoever the fuck this is, is teaching you a new meaning of sex and he knows it as he starts to choke you harder.

“Agh, agh fuck I love this, I want you to use me alll the time.” You whisper, nails digging into the wooden table in attempts to not pull against the restraints. He’s adding more force behind his thrusts now, slowly retracting only to plunge back in with teeth chattering force as you grow dizzy. Just when you feel your vision closing in and your face growing red from lack of blood flow, he releases your throat.

He’s next to your ear in an instant, kissing it softly, “your pussy feels amazing,” he raspily states before trailing his tongue from your ear down to the middle side of your neck. He places a wet open mouth kiss against your flesh before sucking it between his teeth, lightly biting and sucking to nurse a bruise into the soft skin.

“Attention Haunted House workers, the test run will begin now. Please be ready to run your exhibition.” A loud voice sounds throughout the building, making your fluttery eyes snap open.

“What's that?” You try to sound concerned, but it comes out breathy and light as he continues his attack on your neck.

He does not stop his actions, snapping his hips into you more roughly while talking against your skin, “a test run”, is all he says before he’s cupping the underside of your chin to make you look up at the wall before you. It is the one decorated with the mirror, “that’s a double sided mirror, we can see out but they can't see in.. unless I press a button to start the exhibition.”

You feel your legs wobble as the sound of voices start to fill the hallway, “should I turn it on so everybody can see how much of a nasty girl you are?” You try to formulate sentences, getting more aroused and embarrassed by his lewd idea, as you shake your head profusely.

“Why not, you're enjoying yourself so much. You're literally strangling my cock right now.” He taunts as he begins to rub your clit, “I'm going to let everybody see.”

“No daddy don’t please!” You plead just as people walk in front of the glass, “did you hear something?” They say as they get closer to the mirror, tapping it slightly just as he rams his fat cockhead into your g-spot.

Your eyes cross and he covers your mouth just as you’re about to scream out, “if you don’t cum quietly for daddy then I’m going to let them see me fuck you stupid”. He murmurs, lips pressing against your ear and you nod rapidly. He lets go of your mouth and continues to rub at your clit while fucking into your gspot. Your jaw drops as you try to not make a sound, a part of you not caring if someone sees how blessed you are right now, watching the people peer at the glass awaiting some horror spectacle. It’s only then that you really try to focus your eyes on the people behind the mirror. Your body heats up even more as you watch your group of friends, the entirety of the male Bakusquad, tap on the class.

“Do your friends know that you're such a slut, hm? It's crazy that they have no clue a slut like you is spearing herself so desperately on a cock just on the other side of that glass. I bet you want to make a fucking noise. To get caught all stuffed stupid and bound.” He states through clenched teeth as he rapidly flicks your clit with his fingers, making you cum on his cock for the second time that night. Mouth agape and eyes in the back of your head, you can’t even manage a squeak through how hard you’re cumming, you feel his pumping slow as your upper body goes slack on the table.

Your breaths are shallow as you lay, cheek smashed on the table, dizzily watching your group of friends retreat down the hall. “I swear, guys, that was supposed to be Hitoshi’s room!” Denki tries to explain to the group as they walk further down the hall and your pussy twitches even harder if possible around the length as your eyes widen.

“Oh no… I've been exposed. Not that that slutty little pussy of yours cares.” He deadpans with a cool and collected cockiness. You can hear the mask plop to the floor as he rubs your thighs, trying to do anything to turn that dumb little brain of yours back on.

You on the other hand are trying to muster up the courage to look him in the face, you two weren't particularly close, but had a couple of classes together. He was just the hot, quiet guy that tagged along with your group sometimes… not anything like this. As you throw a glance over your shoulder to take him in his fingers stumble upon something that is tucked into the front side of your skirt and takes it out, out of curiosity. A smirk spreads on his face as he sees a thermometer and stethoscope, he looks at you, surprised that you are able to even look at him and decides you can handle some more. After all he still does owe you one more orgasm right?

“Is the nurse feeling a bit under the weather? You look like you've gone through a lot. Mind if I.. take your temperature?” You're barely paying attention, tongue tied by how fucking hot he looks right now. Purple locks disheveled every which way as low, bag rimmed eyes bore into yours. You gulp, preparing to talk, to say anything when he plops the thermometer in your mouth which surprises you. “What are you-

He’s hushing you and making sure you keep your mouth closed until the item beeps and he takes it out, “only 98.1, that can't be accurate, right Miss Nurse? Good thing I know of a more accurate place I can stick this...”

Your ears perk up at this as you go to stand upright, only to remember that of course you’re still fucking bound. He chuckles as he spits on his fingers, lathering up his index finger before he starts to softly rub your asshole.

“H-hey you c-can’t I’m too sensitive!” You try to protest, “it's hard to tell if you're serious with how much your pretty little asshole is puckering.” Your cheeks burn red at this and you feel him place the cold metal tip of the thermometer at your asshole. He pushes it inside swiftly which makes you moan loudly before he stuffs his still erect cock back in your pussy.

“AGH UH I-I CAN’T!” You squeal as he pushes the thermometer further in your ass while bottoming out inside of you. Your cunt is squelching and drooling all over him as he gives you a few shallow thrusts while toying with the device, testing it out by pulling it out a bit before shoving it deeper into your tight hole.

Your uneven panting and moaning is enough indicator for him as he starts to fuck you barbarically now, anybody who walks past will surely hear, as the device beeps again. “It- fuck- says 101.2. Fuck baby y-you’re burning up inside. Because I’m fucking you so good, huh?” He is in awe at how aroused you are, how much wetter you have grown not to mention how your walls quiver around his cock while hugging it so snuggly. It’s affecting him almost to a lethal degree, but you’re no better. You’d like to say that you weren’t enjoying this all the more now that you know who is treating you so well, but that would be untruthful. He starts to push the device further inside, never slowing his thrusts- too mesmerized- and you begin to babble with a sense of urgency.

“If- if you, shit shit, keep pushing it deeper then you’ll-

Before you can finish the thermometer presses against your g spot in the same instant that his cock is kissing it so sweetly. The combination rips a scream from your lungs as your body basically heaves, shooting a stream of cum all over the floor and the man's shoes.

The force of your gushing, pushes his cock out just in time as he paints the floor and your ass with his sticky thick cum, watching as you shake so violently “holy fucking shit, holy fucking shit”. His voice strains and shakes as he continues to pump his cock not thinking he could produce so much ejuculation, every spurt providing immense pleasure.

By the time he is done, you're laying there dumbly, breath hitching erratically as you try and bring yourself back. His cock is screaming with sensitivity as he wipes it clean and fixes himself, panting as well. He's quick to grab some supplies that he was planning on using for the haunted house to clean you up, gently wiping your lower regions before fixing your clothes. Then he's unclasping your restraints and sitting you on the table as you both collect yourself quietly.

Just as he’s about to speak, there are knocks on the door and he throws one look at you, silently asking if it’s okay to open to which you nod, pulling out your phone and ignoring the millions of messages you have. You’re fixing your makeup when Denki comes inside talking about how he knew this was Hitoshi’s and Neito’s room and asking where he was. He started explaining how Neito was running late when Denki finally saw you.

“Hey y/n I think the girls were looking for you what happened? I didn’t know you and Hitoshi were acquainted!”

The tall man only softly chuckles at this in response as Denki continues, “watch out man this one is fierce!”

He looks at you, allowing a relaxed, almost lazy even, smirk to spread across his face while his eyes flick up and down your body. You can't help but press your legs together, you can practically feel him inside you all over again and you almost want to mewl in response to his look.

“I don’t think I have much to worry about right, y/n?”

Nobody would have guessed that that was the night Hitoshi became such a good daddy to you.

[where-is-francis]

𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝘽𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙨

[ 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨,

“𝙬𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩.” ]

𝘽𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩

𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩: No

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: A certain metalhead has noticed that you’ve been acting strange. After figuring out why, he makes it a point to try and make you smile.

𝙎𝙩𝙮𝙡𝙚: Slight angst to fluffy happy ending.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨: He/Him [female aligned DNI with this post]

𝘼/𝙉: Shameless self indulgent fic that I needed to write. I didn’t feel right posting it as like OC content bc that’s not really my thing. That being said — clothes/bedroom descriptions are pretty specific to my usual stuff. I get really stressed and upset around my birthday; maybe I wouldn’t if I had this dork sneaking in my bedroom window irl.

**I don’t like how abruptly this ended but I’ll fix it later; I just need to post it at this point**

𝙏𝙒: You’re depressed bc of birthday things, withdrawing from friends/general avoidance, you and Eddie get high at the end (who do you think is writing this lmao).

A hot Thursday in August had found a group of teens gathered in the basement of Mike Wheeler’s house. It was around noon, but the campaign had to start early — per Mrs. Wheeler’s request. Sounds of rattling box fans mixed in the general rowdiness that was a Hellfire Club meeting, one you always loved.

It was hard for Eddie not to immediately notice your absence when he stumbled downstairs, carrying his folders; you were always one of the first to get there. Lucas and Erica sat with Max on the couch as they tried to brainstorm for her character, Dustin and the others already at the folding table. They all greeted the dungeon master, who immediately asked where you were.

Excluding Eddie’s band mates, everybody in the swampy basement looked away awkwardly. Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Mike all knew exactly why you didn’t show.

“Is it really that big of a deal? I mean, he doesn’t play with us or anything—“ Mike mumbled before being cut off by Eddie.

“No, but he’s still part of the group.” The brunette sighed. “Did he say anything to any of you?”

The four just shrugged or shook their heads respectively.

Dustin took a bite of his sandwich and then piped up. “He’s probably still asleep, or stoned in his room watching Scooby Doo reruns.”

The rest of the group watched as Henderson tried to remain calm, but he was in deep shit now. Eddie narrowed his eyes at the younger boy, leaning over the table and giving him the death stare. Had Henderson not been used to Eddie’s theatrics, and general protective attitude with you, he would’ve flinched. Internally, he was still nervous, but showing it would just get the metalhead even more riled up.

“You know where he is, don’t you?”

Dustin’s face (and sandwich) was now mere inches from the dungeon master. If he didn’t tell him — Eddie would make the session hell. On the other hand, if he did tell him — you’d threaten to kick his ass harder than Troy ever did.

Well, assuming you’d have the energy.

The younger boy swallowed and sighed, shaking his hand dismissively. “He’s not coming, doesn’t feel good. He just gets this way around his birthday.”

Eddie stopped in his tracks, pulling away from the table. “Birthday?”

Max nodded. “It’s tomorrow. I don’t know, something about it always stressing him out. Anyways, he’ll be fine in a few days.”

“It’s best to just give him space,” Lucas added, the others nodding in agreement.

The longer haired male crossed his arms, pacing the small room, trying to figure out what to do. Gareth and Mike had already started setting up the table, motioning for Dustin to get the crumbs off before adding the figures.

“I’m gonna call him.”

Nobody could even protest before Eddie practically ran up the stairs and found the phone. The tip of his tongue stuck out as he punched in your number, hoping you’d at least pick up.

Why didn’t you tell him tomorrow was your birthday? You met in the fall when Dustin, Lucas, and Mike joined Hellfire. If Nancy or Steve weren’t there to give them a ride, it was always you. It made sense that your birthday would have come up at some point, but it completely slipped the (taller/shorter) male’s mind.

“Hello?” Your voice on the other end was groggy.

No matter what, it still made him smile.

“Hey! I’m at the Wheelers’. It’s, like, 12:30 — where are you?”

You grimaced, running a hand over your eyes. Of course Eddie would call.

“I’m still at home. I don’t think I’m gonna make it today, not feeling super hot.”

The other male tried to hold in a groan. His free hand reached up to cup the end of the phone as he spoke, asking if you remembered your medication.

“Yeah, Eds, I’m good. I took it earlier. You guys go ahead with the campaign and you can fill me in later. I’ll be there next week, I promise.”

Eddie’s foot nervously tapped the tile, his brain wracking to figure out how to get you to say yes to coming. But he could tell by the tone in your voice that you wanted nothing more than to take a suggestion from Dustin and get stoned and watch Scooby Doo.

“Hey—! What about tomorrow? Are you free? I made some extra cash this week, I was thinking we could take a trip to the city and—”

Tomorrow. Your birthday.

“Sorry, Eds. It… sounds fun but I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Stuff that’s more important than us hanging out?” There was a steely edge to his voice.

Fuck, he’s hurt. Why would you word it like that?

“No! No, not like that. I just… there’s been a lot of stuff going on.” The wavering in your voice was begging you to hang up. “Soon, I promise. I gotta go.”

“What about—“

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I’ll call you later.” You slammed the phone back on to the receiver.

Guilt washed over you like a flooding rain, the thought of making Eddie feel like he wasn’t important practically enough to kill you. All because of a stupid birthday.

Back in the Wheelers’ house, the long haired male sighed and hung up the phone. His forehead pressed against the wall, berating himself for getting defensive. All he wanted was to do something special for your birthday, make you feel happy — the same way you always made him feel.

In the other room, Holly jumped due to the bang on the wall, accompanied by a set of words she was told not to repeat. She got up slowly and walked over to her brother’s friend. Eddie apologized as soon as she got there, her eyes meeting his.

“You’re sad. Do you want a popsicle?”

The doe eyed male took a quick breath and released it, giving her a nod of confirmation before they went into the kitchen. He watched in amusement as the child pulled out a step stool and teetered her way to get a popsicle down from the freezer. When she was done, she made her way back to the other room, and Eddie went downstairs.

The table was set and everybody was in their places. They avoided the brown eyes of their DM, knowing how things had gone on the phone — which they may or may not have listened in on. Eddie opened the popsicle and motioned for the club to sit, about to start the session. But his eyes could only focus on the empty spot on the couch where you normally sat.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

Hellfire went over with smashing success. There would still be two or more sessions before the campaign could be officially called finished, but it was becoming a favorite. Many a great hero were left wounded, but not terribly. Namely Dustin, who had gotten a low roll and gotten his ass kicked (just enough) by some low level goblins.

The group said their goodbyes and quickly scurried off to their own houses, leaving Eddie in the driveway with Dustin. Oranges and pinks streaked the sky and made a certain stoner smile, thinking about how you always said the combination was one of your favorites.

Dustin began to walk down the street, his new ‘big brother’ trailing at his side. It was silent, save for the crickets and cicadas singing in the cooled August air.

“Let me guess. You tried to get him to do something tomorrow, and he refused?” The younger boy questioned as he slumped his bag over his shoulder.

Eddie shoved his hands into his pockets and began to shake his head.

“It doesn’t make sense, man. Birthdays are supposed to be fun, and happy. He couldn’t even stand to be on the phone for two minutes. What happened?” The brunette looked over with furrowed brows.

Dustin’s eyes met his and he shrugged, not exactly knowing how to answer.

“Not sure. We just kinda learned what works best, so we give him space. He’ll feel better in a week or so, then you guys can go do whatever you normally do in the city.”

Oh shit.

“Wait, how did you…?”

Eddie glared at Dustin, who was now wide eyed and making a mad dash for his door. Suburban silence was now interrupted by pleads for mercy; playful and filled with laughs. The younger boy managed to get into the house after a bit of running — he’d have to apologize for trampling the flowers — but still alive, no thanks to Eddie. Henderson’s back rested against the front door to keep it shut, not wanting his friend to chase him through the house.

Eddie grinned deviously as he snuck up and opened the mail slot, sticking his fingers through and hooking them through the belt loops of Dustin’s pants to prevent an escape. Neighbors watched in confusion as they heard high pitched screams and laughs coming from the small ranch.

“Eddie, please, I yield! I yield!” The younger boy screeched as he attempted to grab something to use as a weapon.

“Say it, Henderson!”

Dustin yelped, swatting at Eddie’s fingers. “I won’t listen in on your calls again! I promise!”

The older male laughed and pulled his hands back with satisfaction, grinning in through the slot. They said their goodbyes — Dustin having flipped Eddie the bird — before he began to walk back to the rickety van. A smile was still plastered on his face, thinking about how you’d be laughing with him and ‘protecting’ Dustin for a few days after this.

At least, if you weren’t mad.

He didn’t know what to do, but the long haired male was determined to see you. His hands carded through the pockets of his jacket and vest, trying to think of what he could give you to make you feel not-so-shitty. An imaginary lightbulb went off in his head as soon as he gripped a small case that held a few pre rolls.

Okay, kind of lame, but it would work.

Eddie’s pace quickened to a jog until he reached the van, hopping in quickly and beginning to speed off to his trailer.

Eddie was bound and determined to surprise you. So much so that he parked on the street behind yours just to make sure you didn’t recognize the sputtering of his beloved van. The sun had already set and made way for the porch lights to illuminate the neighborhood for the night. Like Mike’s suburb, yours was silent too.

Neighbors were inside the cozy houses, most likely asleep at the late hour. It was kind of funny, in a way, that you’d live with them; a bunch of normal people in the middle of the suburbs, tucked away in the cookie-cutter houses.

You, the one who was nearly as insane as the metalhead himself.

Pink and purple-tinted lights filtered out through the obnoxiously green bushes as Eddie neared your house. The only way to your window was through the backyard, but he knew just how to unlatch the gate without making noise; a common occurrence, as he was usually sneaking in your window.

The sickeningly sweet smell of pool chlorine was in the air as he neared your small window. Eddie had ducked slightly, then pulling himself up to look through the opening.

A mess of (h/c) pooled at the top of the bed as you rested with your back to the window. Most lights were off, save for the lava lamps that always sat against the wall, giving it the moody lighting. Your old box TV accompanied it in filling the room. Nothing had changed, except the excess of clothes on the floor.

“Hey, handsome.”

It was hard not to tense up when you heard his voice as a whisper through the cracked window. Your day had already been rough enough; parents and other family members trying to cheer you up, only for their efforts to backfire. Year after year was the same routine, leaving you to wonder why you felt like shit.

The answer never came, though. Maybe you were just cursed — having every small hope snuffed out like a candle without fail, every single year. In all honesty, you’d probably feel better if you didn’t have a day of your own.

Instead of responding to the boy at the window, you opted to play possum.

It took a minute before he spoke up, leaning his forehead against the window in a grimace. “I know you’re awake. You can’t sleep with the tv on. Look — I wanna apologize. Can you just let me in?”

You contemplated his words for a minute, but eventually sat up. All it took was sliding the screen out of the way, and now a certain dork was climbing onto your bed. The moment was like deja vu since it had happened so many times before. But it was different this time around.

With Eddie now inside, you laid back down to resume whatever was on the tv. It wasn’t interesting, but it was a distraction. Every muscle in your body felt heavy on the bed. A familiar feeling, like a discarded shell; it left you devoid of any significant emotion. Though it would ease after a few days, that didn’t make it better. And Eddie’s presence made everything more real.

He looked between you and his hands, twisting the silver rings as he tried to figure out what to say. But it’s hard for him to keep a train of thought when all he can hear, see, and smell is the familiar setting of your room.

It was safe. A small retreat in the rows and rows of copy-pasted suburbia. Everything that lined the shelves and floors was an outward expression of who you were as a person. The interests that you held so closely and wore like a patch on your sleeve; to Eddie, you were never boring.

After a moment, his words came out hushed. “Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For earlier, I mean, when I called?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, man. Don’t worry about it.” You waved dismissively with a hoarse voice.

He was hurt to see you like this. Even more hurt to think he made it worse. The mattress groaned as he shifted closer to your form, hand spread across the dark sheets for support. Although you loved Eddie Munson more than anything, you silently wished he would just stop talking and lay down with you. Your eyes locked with his for a moment before he had a chance to turn away.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your birthday?” He asked, sounding hurt. “We could’ve made plans, or done something. I would’ve gotten you something — like an actual present.”

“Cause I didn’t want you to. Look, whenever anybody’s tried to plan something for me for my birthday, it gets ruined.” You let out a dry laugh. “It’s just easier this way. Seriously, it’s not a big deal—“

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal?”

It came out wrong, sounding like you’d offended him personally.

You managed to sit upright, throwing him a look like he needed to elaborate. It was very rare that the King Freak was so helplessly nervous and tripping over his words, but everything that you were had that effect on him.

“You’re important to me. I want — I want to show you that.”

Time stopped as his eyes met yours again. But instead of looking away, the moment continued. No matter how bad you felt, it was like you could swim in his gaze forever. A gaze that was constant and supportive and loving — having the same feeling of a warm blanket. The dimples in his pale skin began to show as he smiled, reaching into his pocket.

“Alright, fine. You give me no choice.” The brunette cleared his throat in order to do his most dramatic impression of some pompous announcer. “One night only! Come one, come all, to the first annual birthday smoke sesh! All you can smoke — one night only. The shittiest birthday present I could think of, from me to you.”

He finished, passing you the case of pre rolls. In the other hand, he held his usual baggie, then flashed you a grin.

For the first time that night, you smiled. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s on the house.”

It didn’t take long for you to agree. Eddie wasn’t known for being particularly generous with his own stash, but he did have a soft spot for sharing with you. He scanned the brightened features of your face, taking in every freckle and dimple that he swore to memorize. You began to move some pillows to make room to lounge against the headboard, leaving the other male to go gather snacks from the kitchen.

He tiptoed as quietly as he could — still stoked that you were at least trying to feel better. In the unlit kitchen, he made his way to the cabinets, but stopped after glancing at the small dining table.

A cake was sat out, topped with candles, but still untouched. Only one slice was removed from the entire thing, the single piece slumping like it had been there for a while. The table was set for a few people — likely you and your family — and just left without being moved.

Something about the sight was a bit painful and tugged at Eddie’s heartstrings.

He imagined your parents bringing the single slice to the bedroom door early in the morning. Maybe they’d try to sing, or get you to come out to eat it, but it wouldn’t work. The slice was plated, but never eaten. Candles had been placed carefully and poked out from the top, but remained unlit.

The sign of a birthday you’d refused to acknowledge.

It took a bit for him to push the thoughts aside long enough to finally get what he left the room for. Your favorite snacks had been shoved into the pockets of his vest and jacket, leaving him to get something to drink.

He could see into the darkened living room, but it had a similar effect as the cake. There were presents and cards sat out on the coffee table but it felt like a movie set, rather than your home.

The sound of your voice calling his name was enough to get him to stop staring, as he hurried to close the fridge. Despite his better judgement, he grabbed the lone slice of cake and held it behind his back. It was a miracle he didn’t trip in the dark trying to get to your room — alerting your family would definitely not aid in giving you the ‘best birthday ever’.

At his return, the room seemed softer, like something in the air had changed. Even though you hadn’t lit anything yet, your eyes looked less tired. Eddie always loved to compliment your eyes; the color and shape suiting you in a strange way.

The case to Psychocandy laid empty on the gray sheets. It was one of your favorites — of course you’d put it in. He could tell you’d been listening to it again, with the end of the album playing softly through your speaker. The two of you began to settle with the snacks on the bed. You watched as his grin grew from pulling out the slice of cake.

It was the one from earlier in the morning. The one you didn’t want at the time.

His calloused hands reached for the lighter, beginning to light the candles on the slice. You were a sight to behold, though; an unlit joint hanging between your lips, worn out tank top and sweats, accompanied by the necklace that never left the same spot on your chest.

Eddie held the slice up closer to your face, singing a hushed ‘happy birthday’ as the intro to Just Like Honey filled the room. The flame of one of the candles caught the end of the joint, and you gave a few puffs to start it. A blue alarm clock on the nightstand read 12:03; it was officially the day you were trying to avoid.

But not anymore.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

You grinned, using the cloudy smoke from your ‘present’ to extinguish the candles in one go. Their smoke mixed in the air before it dissipated completely and left a hazy outline around the room. Minutes passed as the joint began to shrink, leaving just the roach. No matter how many times you smoked it always tasted just as bad as your very first. Your (light/dark) lips went in for the last few puffs before crushing the nub onto the ash tray.

Eddie’s eyes couldn’t leave you. Whether that was the weed or just his usual habit was anybody’s guess. Time seemed to still for a bit as he took in every single detail that made up your very being. His eyes traced from the slight scar on your forehead, to the piercing that adorned your nose, and finally stopped at your smile.

He imagined just diving in and kissing you without a second thought. Maybe, if he was lucky, you’d kiss him back.

“Don’t tell me there’s ash all over my face again,” you groaned.

Eddie laughed a bit and shook his head at the memory of getting you high for the first time. “No, not that. I’m just… really glad you’re having a good time, man.”

And you were. Smoking in your bedroom with the pretty boy who called you ‘sweetheart’ was more than enough to make you happy. You grinned and began to reach for the slice of cake to pull the candles out. In actuality, it didn’t taste the best after sitting out all day, but you didn’t care one bit.

Eddie lit and started another roll while you lazily ate the cake. You began to sink into the mattress like you had previously done, this time in a peaceful way. Everything that had added weight in the recent weeks was simply gone, carried away by the gray smoke clouds.

He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to confess everything that had been running through his mind since the first time you showed up to see the band at The Hideout. No matter how strong the temptation, he didn’t want to do it high — that was a promise he made to himself.

The brunette took another hit and held the joint in your direction. You nodded, but just parted your lips slightly. Before he even realized what he was doing, he placed it between your lips. His fingers were rough from constantly playing guitar and something made him pull back; like if your softer skin touched it, you’d suddenly break.

But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into his palm, gazing at him behind half lidded eyes.

“Thank you. For all of this.”

The warm sun hung in the air outside the open window, bringing comfortable heat and a nice breeze to match. You laid asleep with your best friend in bed while the cicadas hummed outside. Your eyes slowly began to open as you took in the comfort of the late morning. It was about 8; hard to tell when you and the long haired male fell asleep.

Rolling onto your side to face him, you couldn’t help but watch him in the relaxed state. He was sound asleep in your bed with his hair nearly consuming the pillows. Small streaks of sun highlighted the sculpt of his features; he always did have a good jawline. The tattoo on his bare chest slowly rose and fell with each breath, confirming he was, indeed, passed out.

Everything seemed to fall into place. It started slowly and silently, but now was hurtling full force into a collision. You were so helplessly in love with Eddie Munson.

The sweet moment didn’t last long as the two of you shot up in bed upon hearing your mother scream his full name.

Panic washed through the both of you — mainly Eddie, who brought weed into her house — before the door was forcibly opened. Your mom stood with the phone in her hand, other one being used to cover the end. A grimace crossed her face as she caught whiff of the strong earthy scent that began to waft from the room.

“I’m currently on the phone with Mr. Downs, who was on his way to work when he noticed a certain van parked in front of his house. Eddie, I suggest you go move it before he calls your uncle.” She yelled, quickly shutting the door.

It was hard to hide the grin on your face. Eddie got up and scrambled to find his shirt, hoping to any God that he wasn’t getting towed.

“You didn’t move your van?”

“I forgot about it!”

Even in his state of slight panic, madly looking for his sneakers, he still looked beautiful. You sat upright and reached out to grab him by the hem of his Dio shirt. Confusion and too many thoughts ran through his head before he could even ask what was going on. Using the guitar pick necklace you pulled him down, finally giving him a kiss.

“Hurry back.”

Too stunned to speak, the metalhead just nodded and exited your room with his face now red.

Maybe your birthday wouldn’t turn out horrible after all.

Like my stuff? I appreciate that! More male/GN reader content on my blog. Reblogs instead of likes — it helps other people find my stuff. Requests for Stranger Things are currently open. Come say hi!

[veronica-sawyers-monocle]

♡  dabi x female reader 

♡  warnings: explicit sexual content, overstimulation

♡  author’s note: this is such a common trope in the dabi fanfic universe but i don’t really prefer alternate universe fanfics bc they defeat the purpose of escapism. i need to be more creative next time.

“Dabi, can you just wait so we can talk about this?”

It was too late, he slammed the door to his room in your face and you were left alone in the League of Villains hideout.

“I see you pissed off your little boytoy there,” Shigaraki’s voice emanated from a dark corner. “You shouldn’t’ve tried to make friends here anyway, I hired you as an informant, not to be the LOV whore.”

“What the fuck, Shigaraki? Dabi was the one who approached ME, it’s not my fault that he couldn’t keep it in his pants.” You hoped Dabi couldn’t hear you. Even though you cared about him as a friend, your position with the LOV was one you couldn’t afford to lose.

“Even so…” He removed the hand grasping his face so that he could stare at you with his red eyes. “You don’t want to cause any problems with us do you?”

You knew what that would mean. Even though you were friends with most of the members, Shigaraki wouldn’t hesitate to dust you if anything happened to distract from their goals.

“Fine.”

“Make sure Dabi doesn’t stay pissed off. He’s sort of a loose cannon.”

You rolled your eyes. That wasn’t in the job description. Deciding to let Dabi cool off, you headed home.

Even though the argument happened hours earlier, your mood had been soiled for the rest of the night. You never fought with Dabi like that before, and you didn’t expect him to react so badly when you asked him about his true identity. You’d put two and two together after having several interactions with Shoto Todoroki and his father Endeavor, and the fact that Dabi had a blue flame quirk and a resemblance to Shoto tipped you off. Your theory was confirmed when you saw Dabi encounter Endeavor and the look in his eyes showed an intent to kill. A hatred you’d never seen in anyone, not even Shigaraki. When you asked him if he was indeed Touya Todoroki, he told you to get out and never speak to him again.

It hurt you for sure. You and Dabi weren’t in a relationship, nonetheless you were close in a way that neither of you had been with another person before. He was drawn to you because you took the time to get to know him and understand him, and were patient with his intense and emotional behavior that you now realized was due to a traumatic past. He made sure you weren’t mistreated by the other League members, always jumping to your defense when Shigaraki was giving you shit. You didn’t want your relationship with him to end just because you knew “too much.” Knowing his true identity changed nothing about how you saw him and if anything, provided explanation for his occasional erratic moods and behavior. You wished you could tell him this, make him understand.

As you were thinking this, you heard a knock at your door. When you answered, Dabi was standing there, eyes downcast and scarred hands in his pockets.

“I’m sorry I slammed the door in your face.” He raised his eyes to meet yours, emphasizing the sincerity of his next statement. “And that I told you to never speak to me again. I didn’t fucking mean that, I swear.”

“Okay,” you replied, not knowing what to say. “Thank you, Dabi.”

“You know my real name now, just call me that,” he said with a nervous half-smile.

“Touya? Do you want to come in then?” 

The two of you walked over the threshold and you sat on the couch. Dabi collapsed next to you, closing his eyes.

“I wanted to tell you the truth myself, but I guess you figured it out, huh. Smart ass,” He opened his eyes, glancing sideways at you. You shifted closer to him on the couch, reaching towards his hair. Dabi inhaled sharply, but let you part his hair to reveal his white roots.

“So this is why I always see black stains around your sink,” you said.

“Yeah, I dye it. My fuckin’ father would recognize me too easily if I didn’t.” He replied. His eyes met yours and you studied each other for a moment. Your gaze took in his unique appearance, affectionately glancing over his icy eyes framed by strong eyebrows above and bruise-colored scars below. His nose piercings and staples glinted in the soft light of your living room as he tilted his head, questioning you silently. 

Uncharacteristically, you closed the small gap between you and Touya and kissed him, your mouth softly capturing his and sliding your tongues together. His mouth opened easily, letting out a quiet moan. You saw his eyes flutter closed the second your lips touched, and you lifted a leg over his lap so that you straddled him, resting on his low-slung black jeans he always wore. Breaking the kiss, you wove your hands into his hair, using it as leverage to tilt his face up and make him look at you. 

“Touya. It’s growing on me,” you smiled at him and he smiled back, his eyes becoming glazed over and closing in pleasure when you slightly tugged at his hair. “Mmmm, feels good.” You relished every time Touya moaned or spoke appreciation, nothing felt better to you than making him feel good. Opening his eyes again, he gave you a little half-smile. “You don’t usually initiate, I like it.”

You always were hesitant of seeming too sexually forward, fearing rejection even if your partner simply wasn’t in the mood. Encouraged by his words, you slid your hands under his shirt, exploring the different textures of his skin from his abdomen to his nipples, lightly brushing them with your fingers. At that subtle touch, his breath hitched and his hips twitched upwards into yours. Your thighs squeezed him tighter as you started to become more aroused by the feeling of him growing harder beneath you and his cute expressions. “You’re so sexy, Touya,” you murmured into his ear, licking the edge of it. He grabbed the back of your shirt hard in his fists. “Shit pretty girl, do you realize what you’re doing to me?” He groaned loudly.

You grabbed his hand and led him to the bedroom, immediately throwing yourself on the bed and taking off your pants. Touya stood there looking at you, eyes darkened with lust. He watched you spread your legs and part your folds, spreading your arousal all over your pussy. “Look how wet you made me.” You stared at him, continuing to rub yourself. Touya couldn’t decide to meet your eyes or focus on your dripping cunt. “Yeah? Look at what you did to me, making me so hard...” His voice had a desperate edge to it. Unbuttoning his jeans, he took his big cock out, not even bothering to pull down his pants the rest of the way, giving it a few strokes for some relief.

“Come here,” you invited him to kneel between your spread legs. When he settled himself between them, you pulled his pants down further, stroking and rubbing him, He opened his mouth in a groan and you stuck the fingers that had previously been in between your legs between his lips. He swiped his tongue around them, savoring you and letting you feel his little piercing against your fingers. “Taste good?”

“Fuck yeah” he responded. “Wanna taste more of you…wanna make it up to you…”

Impatient for his mouth on your pussy, you pushed him down by his shoulders and he obediently spread your legs. He kissed you sloppily a few times, swiping his tongue through your folds and on your clit, mixing his saliva with your juices. Touya was always messy when he ate you out, trying to get you as wet as possible. The textures of his rough skin and staples occasionally brushed your sensitive skin, making you grind against him for more. You cried out in pleasure just from a few seconds of him eating you out, but he always took his time with you. His big hands grabbed your soft skin and squeezed as he let out his own soft sighs and moans against your pussy. He was enjoying this almost as much as you, grinding his cock into the bed as he worshipped you.

“Fuckin’ love your taste,” he grunted, and he looked up making eye contact with you as he licked a stripe up your pussy. Lingering on your clit, he flicked it a few times. You thrust up into his mouth, close to cumming from the sensation of his pierced tongue on you, but he was far from letting you finish. 

Touya finally came up for air, your juices smeared all over his lower face and his hair tousled from where you were tugging at it, the white roots exposed. “Keep going, Touya...please?” you begged him breathlessly. He kissed you, open mouthed so you could taste yourself on him. His weight was heavy on you and you felt his straining erection rub against your wet pussy. 

“It’s my turn now,” he bit your earlobe and sucked at your neck, making you gasp and squirm beneath him, distracting you while he positioned his dick into your hole. “I love hearing you beg for me though.” He smiled against your lips. 

It was easy for him to slide in and you gasped at how well he filled you up. “Such a wet little pussy” he moaned out, letting you adjust to him by giving slow, deep thrusts. “Let me see those pretty tits.” He lifted your shirt and stuck it between your teeth, exposing your breasts. As he thrusted he groped them and leaned down to leave gentle bites, but not so gentle that they wouldn’t leave a dark bruise later to remind you of what happened. Your eyebrows furrowed and you moaned, muffled by your shirt. “Ahhh- yeah, moan for me, you love this fuckin’ cock huh?” You could only nod, your eyes closing with pleasure. He was hitting your G-spot over and over and you couldn’t resist cumming around his cock, your walls clenching around him. Your mouth dropped open, letting the t shirt fall. Gripping at his shoulders you moaned his name, gasping for air. 

“Ohhh, yeah, that’s my good girl...come around my cock, just like that,” Touya praised you, enjoying your fucked out, ecstatic expression and how the way you came made you even more wet, the sounds of your bodies connecting over and over driving him towards the edge. He flipped you over in one smooth move. Your body was soft and malleable for him to do to you whatever he pleased. He leaned over and grabbed you by your cheeks, kissing you while still relentlessly pounding into you. “I want you to cum again...with me...” He began rubbing your sensitive clit, overstimulating you with his long fingers. You let out an almost pained whine, the sensation overwhelming you.

“Aww, is it-is it too much for you?” Touya asked you between groans and pants, barely keeping it together himself. “Is your little pussy too --ah-- too sensitive?” His thrusts stuttered but he still continued to rub on your clit, groping your breasts and nipples with his other hand. You grinded against his fingers, losing yourself in the pleasure and as he came deep inside you, he fell on top of you, pushing you down onto the bed. The feeling of his cock pulsing and releasing into you drove you to finish, your moans joining his. 

The two of you stayed like that for a bit, with his warm body on top of you. Your pussy clenched around him occasionally with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and he rubbed soft circles onto your arm, soothing you. 

Touya pulled out of you and you felt some of his cum spill out as well, sticky and warm around your inner thighs. You turned over on your back and he pressed his mouth to yours slowly, and you enjoyed each other’s tastes for a bit, lips connecting over and over. He pressed light kisses across your cheek and down your neck while he stroked your messy hair. 

“I’m so thankful for you...you’re so kind...so intelligent, understanding...” He moved towards your ear to whisper the last phrase. “...and sexy too,” he murmured, his voice lower and deeper. You closed your eyes and smiled, simply pulling him closer to you. 

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Are very, very old friends

My Masterlist 

Your heart and my heart (first part of this)

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: A second part to Your heart and my heart, where Ivar and Reader were childhood friends (and pretended to get married when they were children) and got separated by circumstances of life, only to meet again on a battlefield in Wessex.

Word Count: 9.8k (I am so fucking sorry, holy shit)

Warnings: My unwavering state of denial over Aslaug’s death, mentions/descriptions of injury/battle, allusions to sex (nothing graphic), and my terrible writing lol

A/N: I hope you are no longer surprised by how I seem to be able to focus only on the stuff I need to focus on the least, bc here we are. Writing has been very difficult lately, so I am not so sure this is any good, but I still hope you enjoy.

As a reminder: In this universe the brothers (minus Björn) are in Wessex with the Great Heathen Army but Aslaug isn’t dead (Lagertha never took over). This is an almost 6a in age Ivar, but of course a different canon where he has stayed raiding in England. And Princess Blaeja (who was briefly mentioned in the previous part) is engaged to be married to Sigurd.

Your eyes cannot move fast enough to take in the field ahead of you, trying to check every trap and every barricade. Even if you were to find a fault, you remind yourself, you wouldn’t be able to change anything.

Hlíf comes to you, brisk pace that you can still see the exhaustion in, and stands at your side, shield with your colors and your symbol. It looks heavy.

“They are coming, Dane.”

“I know,” A deep breath, and you signal with your head to the center of the camp, “Go back, you’ll lead them to hold the second line. The Saxons will breach the first one.”

“You are not staying here.”

You don’t meet Hlíf’s gaze, instead meeting the eye of a few shieldmaidens that stand tall ahead, waiting for the Saxons to come. They nod their heads once, they know what they are agreeing to.

“We are.”

The forward scouts sound the horns, and before long the marching feet of warriors makes the unfamiliar ground tremble under your feet. Your hands tighten on the handle of your sword, and you take a breath.

Hlíf steps closer, but her gait ins anxious, “You better retreat to us when the time comes, Dane. You are not allowed to die here.”

“Says who?”

Hlíf grunts a curse, but retreats behind the second line of spike barriers.

You’ve been hounded by this group for weeks, ever since you and your warriors departed for York back from a successful raid. You aren’t sure if they are from that city or sent to intercept you from somewhere else, but they are bloodthirsty and determined.

Making camp was a necessity, especially with the wounded and weakened you have in your group, but the years have made you ingenuous, and the months you’ve spent with the Great Army have taught you to use the surroundings in your favor.

Your warriors dug ditches and laid spikes within them, much like you remember hearing Lagertha did when she assisted Aslaug in defending Kattegat, and while you didn’t have the defenses of walls, you made sure to draw passageways with the placement of the tents, to lure the Saxons to follow a path you know by heart when they came.

And now you stand, restless in your spot, waiting for them to get close enough for your archers to thin their numbers, for the frakka’s of those closer to you to take down the stronger ones.

It is not enough, but you never expected it to be.

Once they get close enough, you shout the command to march, and your forces and theirs clash.

The sound of battle deafens you, shouts in two different tongues and death in the same language echoing around you. Still, you seem to hear the faintest of rustles, and you lift your shield as you turn, stopping the downward strike of a Saxon.

Pushing back while you bend your knees, you unbalance him, slashing at his thighs before you plunge your sword in his chest. He meets your eyes, and spits blood in your face before his strength leaves him.

So, it is personal then.

You keep moving, blunt hits of your shield and quick strikes of your sword, taking down as many as you can, worrying more for injuring them and weakening them before they reach the more vulnerable in the camp more than for killing them.

Maybe that is your mistake.

The sword slashes at your leg, the pain sharp and weakening, and your stance buckles. You turn around with a raised shield to try and defend yourself, but you are too close to the ground and the warrior puts all his strength behind his kick and forces you to the ground.

Scrambling to turn on your back and grabbing a discarded axe, you stop the advance of his sword, but your arms burn under the strain, and his snarling face reminds you of a chained dog too close to breaking free.

It isn’t enough. You have no choice.

Releasing the strain of holding him back, you are able to swing your arm back and hit the side of his neck with the hand axe, but not before his sword pierces your shoulder, drawing a scream of pain from you.

Pushing him off you, you stand on uneven ground, trying to make sense of the battle around you and keeping your defenses against the Saxons that are still very much after your blood.

Your shield once again on your hand, you stop the attack of a younger warrior, slashing his chest with a move of your arm that feels weaker and trembling even as you manage to deliver a fatal blow.

Another manages to get close enough to bit the edge of his shield against your wounded leg, and his sword slashes at your side, drawing blood and blinding pain in its wake. He is taken down by a snarling shieldmaiden that comes to stand at your side, and your eyes scan the first line of the camp’s defenses already breached.

You are outnumbered, you are not going to win. Not like this.

“Through the east!” You call out in your own tongue, not waiting for any of the few that remain able to fight to acknowledge your command before you dart for the passageways you can make use of.

You are close enough to the second line of barricades to cross it if you wish to, but your mind is made. The Saxons trailing after you and the few others that still stand, they make quick work of your shieldmaidens soon enough, and you grit your teeth at the screams of pain you can do nothing to stop.

Most of them were foolish enough to think you were retreating, and they trailed after you and the remaining warriors.

Reaching the end of the alleyway, you turn around, standing on shaky legs and lifting one hand. Breathing past the pain is proving difficult, and there’s black at the edges of your vision, but you can still make out the shapes above you, and those that stand next to you.

You close your hand into a fist, meet the eyes of the Saxons that seem to hesitate to approach. They will always fear a heathen woman that smiles while surrounded by blood and death, the fearful -faithful- will call her a monster and insist she is not human.

They fear, they hesitate. And that is enough.

And you drop your hand, the weakest of smiles on your lips as you give one last command,

“Loose.”

____

The first thing you can sense when you awaken is the pain, and the weight keeping you down. Awful, but at least you aren’t dead.

You open your eyes slowly, half expecting to see the murky forests of the Isles towering above you after having been left behind by the Saxons to bleed out slowly and painfully; half expecting something with women on winged horses and a lot of golden shades.

But all that greets you is wood.

Inconsequential, unimpressive, mediocre wood. Yet, your body is filled with such a relief you almost give in to the temptation to doze off again.

Still, you force your body to answer and you sit up on the cot, breaths ragged as the wound on your shoulder sends pain like lightning through your very veins. And slowly, painfully, and with more curses than your mother would like out of a princess, you stand up.

Just when you are considering what the plan after standing up actually was, a woman barges into the room.

“Oh, you’re standing,” She says, and you lift your eyebrows but say nothing. She tsks her tongue, and approaches, her eyes focused on your upper chest, “You shouldn’t be.”

“I would think it was a good sign.”

“Which is why you do the fighting, not the thinking,” She quips, a quirk of her mouth as she glances at you. Quite mean, for an old woman, but still you offer a smile as well. Her palm presses lightly against your shoulder, before going to your side. “You’re not too hot.”

You pout, “Aw, shame.”

“And you seem to be in good spirits.” She chuckles.

You meet her eyes and lean closer, asking quietly,

“That will change soon, though, won’t it?”

“You are the reason a lot of people are angry, yes,” She confesses, before stepping back, “You also are the reason a lot of people are alive as well. Make sure they remember that, and you may keep your head.”

With a non-committal gesture you step past her, a hand on the doorway keeping you upright as you meet the gaze of the expecting shieldmaidens. They call your name and a few expletives in greeting, some in anger, some in welcome, but all in relief.

“While I love seeing you all alive and well, I…have a feeling at least one of you is here under specific instructions.” You state, a quirk of your eyebrow when one of the younger ones stands up, and slips out of the house quietly, with a murmur of being glad you are alright.

You sigh, and though one of them offers you a seat you highly doubt you’ll be able to stand if you sit down, so you wave away her offer, and lean on the doorway.

“Did the rest make it?”

“Most of them, yes. The injured are going to be escorted back, they couldn’t make it on their o-…”

The words die in a gasp as the door to the humble home is kicked open, and a tall shieldmaiden strides in, eyes blazing and set on you.

“You mad Dane bitch!”

“I have a name,” You quip as the shieldmaiden advances towards you. “It is a very pretty one, my mother chose i-…”

She shoves you forcefully, stopping whatever it is you were going to say.

You stumble back but catch yourself before falling, and you can’t help but let out a grunt of pain as your side is pulled tight by the sudden and forceful movement. The healer quips from the room at your back something about not injuring the already injured further, but you both ignore her it seems.

Hlíf still pushes on, “Of all the hare-brained, reckless, st-…”

“Hey!”

“You don’t scare me, Dane,” She huffs back, stepping forward until the shieldmaiden towers over you. “Half dead as you are because of your stupid decisions, you aren’t a threat to anyone, least of all me.”

In the back of your mind, a voice that sounds so alike your brother’s, always calm and collected; begs you not to do this.

You were never good at listening to him, though.

Headbutting one of your oldest friends wasn’t high in the list of things you wanted to do if you ever came back from the dead but…here we are.

Hlíf stumbles back, holding her nose and setting incredulous eyes on you.

Strangely enough, the tension seems to slowly ebb away with the unexpected action.

“I like proving people wrong.” You tell her around a shrug, slowly betraying a smile that she returns, even if there’s a resentful sort of relief in the way she approaches again and presses her brow against yours.

“You are so lucky you’re injured.”

“I wouldn’t call it-…”

“I would. I’d be knocking your pretty ass to the ground if you weren’t,” She promises, and scoffs a laugh that sounds like a reprimand, “You scared me, Dane.”

You meet her eyes, study the dark circles under them, the haggardness on her face, the stubborn tremble in her voice; and realize maybe you weren’t the only one to believe you’d die in that forest.

“How long has it been?”

“A little over a week since we made it to York.” She tells you, motioning for a seat, and motioning again when you refuse it. Stubborn.

You carefully sit down before the fire, narrowing your eyes at the girl that attempts to cover your legs with a fur. You are injured, but you’re far from an old woman.

Though you do accept the awful-smelling brew of herbs the healer presses into your hand before scurrying off back to the room where you were sleeping.

Watching the herbs swirl in the cup, you mumble, “You know, I did the right thing there.”

Hlíf’s kohl-lined eyes narrow, “I don’t think that means what you think it means.”

You gesture with the arm of your good side, “I wasn’t the one leading them! For once I followed orders and we got stuck, it isn’t my fault!”

Hlíf’s eyes only grow bigger and bigger in affront and fury at your insistence, and you decide to shut your mouth.

“You defended when you could have retreated, even though you were wounded, and alone.”

“When you put it like that of cou-…”

She interrupts you, her tone cold and imposing as she repeats, “You defended when you could have retreated, even though you were wounded, and alone.”

“I heard you the first time.”

She offers a side smile, head tilted to the side, “Huh, you listen. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“That is uncalled for, come on.”

Hlíf looks at you, blinks slowly two times, and takes a breath.

“You defended when you could ha-…” She starts again, but you interrupt her with a shove of her good shoulder and a huffed laugh. She does have a point, however insistent she is at repeating it.

“I panicked, I…I needed to give you more time to leave safely, without Saxons trailing after you. I needed to stall them.” You confess quietly, fidgeting with your fingers, elbows resting on your knees, ignoring the soreness on your side as your position strains at the healing wound.

“You agreed to retreat if you were outnumbered, but you didn’t.”

“There were still some traps that hadn’t been used, I could lure them to the east side, and it worked, the archers made work of the thick of their numbers.”

“You were half-dead by the time that happened.” She insists, biting.

“All that matters is that most made it out. It was the right call.”

“If I hadn’t insisted we go back to find you, you would be dead,” She argues, though her voice quietens as well. “You’d be alone in that damn place, we wouldn’t even be able to bury you.”

That is not something you want to think much about, and with your gaze on the flickering flames you press quietly, “Do you want me to apologize, is that it?”

“No.”

“What do you want then?”

“I don’t know, Dane. What do you want?” At your confused frown the shieldmaiden shrugs, “Coming back from the dead and all, figured I could grant you at least one thing.”

“Those Saxons that hunted us down strung up on a tree?” You ask, only half-jesting. Hlíf doesn’t laugh though, she only presses her lips together.

“Can’t do that, Dane. They have been handled already.”

You really shouldn’t have expected otherwise. Still, you ask the question to which you already know the answer,

“Ivar?”

“Poured melted crosses onto their heads, left some alive after it too. Gruesome thing,” She explains, and you nod your head with a hum, wondering how long ago that was and trying to imagine how exactly they were captured so quickly. Hlíf watches you with growing worry, “I don’t know if I should be concerned about your reaction, or…lack of it rather.”

“You get used to it after a while.”

She scoffs, shaking her head, “You do.”

After a few breaths of silence, Hlíf calls your name quietly. She usually calls you ‘Dane’, a habit that never left her since the first days you were fighting together, when you first were able to call yourself a shieldmaiden.

When your attention turns to her, she says, “I’m sorry for shoving you.”

You look into her pale eyes, offer a smile and a nod.

“You should be.” You quip, and after an incredulous breath Hlíf heaves a sigh.

“You could say you’re sorry too, Dane.” The shieldmaiden chuckles, still oddly fond in her defeat.

“I’m not, though.” You reply around a shrug, sharing a smile with her.

The conversation ebbs away as you hear a voice distantly shouting commands, a voice you know well.

“Where is she!?”

“Oh, great.”

Furious stabs of a crutch on the hard ground, and the door opens just as many shieldmaidens scurry away, making way for Ivar the Boneless. His eyes meet yours with a fury you have never seen before, a snarl on his lips and tension coiled around his body like a vine.

When he speaks, though, his voice denotes none of that. His voice is carefully even, dangerously still, reminding you of a beast stalling its breath before it strikes.

For a man as explosive as him, calmness is never a good sign.

“What. Were. You. Thinking.”

Your nose furrows, and you offer with a grimace, “I…wasn’t?”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“I know. I’m the one that almost died, remember?” You prompt, but he doesn’t answer. You nod your head, not really sure what to do, muttering to yourself, “Serious business, dying.”

Hlíf lets out a choked groan, before advising, voice low, “You should really just shut your mouth, Dane.”

Ivar turns to her, the sharp focus of his pale gaze making the shieldmaiden straighten in her seat.

“Get out.” He orders, voice low. You see it in her, the pride insisting on resisting and the instinct pleading to obey.

Instinct wins, and after sparing you a look Hlíf stands up, and motions with her head for the other shieldmaidens to follow, leaving you and Ivar alone in the small home.

It feels even smaller as his gaze returns to you, it even feels almost suffocating as Ivar takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders but says nothing.

You clear your throat, and start what you hope will be a conversation and not a screaming match.

“I am not apologizing for the choice I made.”

An angry breath leaves him through his nose, sharply. His eyes remain on you, quiet intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Of course you’re not,” Ivar bites out, before shaking his head at himself, “I can’t believe you’d be so-…”

“It was the right call, Ivar.”

He wrenches his gaze from you, looking straight ahead. For a moment you wonder if he refuses to look at you because he thinks he can hide anything from you. Because he should know better, because he should know by now you are aware of the way his jaw tightens, of the way his breaths are intentionally -forcefully- even, of the way anger and pride are the only thing keeping his control from slipping.

“You could have died.”

“And?”

His focus returns to you, and you snap your mouth shut.

Wrong thing to say, wrong thing to say, wrong thing to say.

Ivar’s eyes widen in anger, and when he takes a breath he seems to be twice as tall.

“And!?” He repeats, voice thundering, “You almost died! You…” His nose curls in anger, but there’s something more fragile in his wide eyes, something like fear, “You spent days in that damn bed, they told me it was in the hands of the Gods whether you survived or didn’t.”

A pit of worry forms in your stomach, and you quieten your voice, trying to offer reassurance, “I pulled through, I-I am alright.”

But it falls on deaf ears.

“You were there, dying, and there was nothing I could do,” A sharp breath, but it sounds choked, “You would have gone where I can’t follow, I-…there was nothing to do, nothing I could-…I c-couldn’t-…”

“Ivar…”

He turns to you, accusing, “I was unable to do anything while you died, while you left me.”

“I didn’t die, I am alright.”

“You almost did.”

“That’s-…”

His lip curls into a snarl and your eyes are drawn to the scar on the right side of his mouth, the scar you are responsible for. The process of healing from the deep cut you left that first day you were reunited was a slow one for him, especially because of how much you insisted on finding ways to make him smile and then grumble at the sting of a reopened cut. And now your eyes are drawn to that scar, watching it follow the movement of his mouth as it curls in anger.

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” He interrupts you, a gesture of his hand. “You made the wrong choice. You put yourself in danger when you didn’t need to.”

“If I hadn’t, most of my shieldmaidens would be dead now. We couldn’t fight them directly, Ivar, we had too many wounded.”

He walks past you, the stabs of the crutch on the ground still more forceful than they need to be, and pours himself some mead in one of the unused cups, his back to you.

A deep breath, and before he drinks he offers, “You should have left them behind.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You move to walk forward, but putting too much weight on your injured leg makes pain shoot through you. You falter, and you try hiding it but you know Ivar notices, judging by the way his eyes narrow.

Still, you insist, slowly walking closer, “What is a few shieldmaidens against all the people we went there to aid? It is a sacrifice we all were willing t-…”

He gestures with his free arm, stopping you, “Well it isn’t a sacrifice I’m willing to make! Not if it costs me you!”

You are stunned into silence, whatever words that were to leave your mouth dying on your lips with a gasp.

Ivar glares at you as if you were somehow responsible for him saying something he hadn’t meant to, a twitch of anger that makes his furrow his nose and his lips press together in a line.

He moves to one of the chairs by the fire, taking a few breaths through his nose that you are sure are meant to be calming but sound equally as angry as before.

You still have nothing to say, no words to leave your lips.

There’s a part of you that never let go of him in all those years you spent -grew- apart, and in these months you have spent with the army, leading your own forces under Ivar and his brothers’ commands, learning from them -from him- many things and offering a few tricks of your own, conquering new lands and fighting new battles; your foolish heart has started to speak of hopes that could never be, has started to feel light like it never did before, as if it and his own heart recognize each other even after all the years and the scars.

Ivar takes a breath, discarding the crutch on the chair by his side.

“I…I never forgot you, you know. Not when you left Kattegat, not when father died and we came to England, not-…I never forgot you,” His eyes linger on yours for a moment, before Ivar turns his head and looks back ahead, clear tell of gritted teeth as he confesses, “I kept an eye on you, through the years. I had men near Ribe when you and your brother fought for it so that they could tell me the outcome of the battle.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you slowly take a seat by his side.

“I…I never knew.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” He retorts without missing a beat, hesitating before continuing, “I always hoped we’d meet again. With what I’ve done, with what I’ve accomplished, I hoped that maybe I’d find you again and I could give you enough reasons to stay this time.”

Quietly, you offer, “I never wanted to leave.”

“I know that now,” He assures you, the slightest of movements of his head that you think was supposed to be a nod. Ivar’s eyes lift to yours, and he says, so low you almost miss it, “I just found you again, I can’t…I can’t lose you.”

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to put into words what his words are doing to your foolish heart, to the heart that has always been his.

“Ivar…” You start, not certain of what you’re trying to say.

But it doesn’t matter.

Ivar leans forward surprisingly quickly, pressing his lips against yours. The touch of his lips on yours is urgent and hurried, shaky and inexperienced; leaving behind wide blue eyes that look into yours as if desperate for an answer to a question that isn’t a question at all.

You sigh shakily, but your mouth trembles into a smile, and with barely a moment of hesitation, you cross the distance between you again and kiss him, this time deeply, this time eagerly, this time ardently.

There’s the desperation of having lost too much time without this in the way his hold on you is tight and frantic, there’s the anguish of having thought lost you forever in the way your name leaves him in a choked gasp when you part for air, there’s the relief and the elation of finally having you within reach in the way he doesn’t let your lips part from his for any moment, a faint sound of protest from somewhere deep in his chest whenever you pull away.

You finally part but don’t move too far, it seems both of you unwilling to let much space come between you. Breaths labored, you whisper,

“I have wanted to do that for a long time.”

“You have?”

In any other man the question would be a blatant seeking of praise, and maybe it is in him too, but there’s something else too, something more fragile, something more vulnerable. Like some part of him never ceased to be the boy you kissed before you were to leave Kattegat, like some part of him will never truly believe how wanted he can be, how loved.

“I never forgot you either, Ivar,” You confess quietly, lifting the hand you can and tracing the side of his face, the scar on his cheekbone, the scar you claim of your own over his lip. “I could never forget you.”

His smile is awed, and softer than you ever thought it could be, and more boyish than it should be allowed to be for the sake of your foolish heart, that skips a beat in your chest.

With the crackling of fire and the feel of him under your hands, you forget the passing of time, you forget the soreness of your body, you forget everything except him.

You exchange secrets and promises in the shape of kisses that linger always in between adoration and hunger; and after a while, with your fingers trailing absently over the scar on his mouth, you offer your regret.

“I was reckless,” You tell him, resisting the urge to curl the hand on the side of his face into a fist when you notice how much it trembles. “I…I should have retreated. I am sorry.”

“I was…I was stuck here, unable to do anything. I couldn’t go fight with you, I couldn’t go search for you,” There’s the familiar resentment -at the world, at Fate-, and you say nothing, but your hand moves towards the back of his neck and tries to offer a soothing caress. Ivar continues, “I can’t will my stupid legs to work as they should, but I can…I can keep you safe. You have to let me keep you safe.”

“You cannot keep me from death, no one can,” You remind him, before acquiescing, “I promise I…I will be more careful, I will not make pointless sacrifices.”

Even if it wasn’t pointless to you at the time, it is the best way you can word it.

And, judging by the faint and almost shaky nod Ivar offers in acceptance of your words, it was the right thing to say.

____

Ivar had planned to make the journey back to York and raid from there one more time, while matters about his plans to settle in the Isles are solved, and originally you were planning on going with him.

However, he insists you need to rest and heal so he won’t let you fight, and you insist being bedridden will only make you go mad, so you reach a compromise. You and Ivar discuss the details of the agreement as the healer checks the wound on your shoulder, and when he is to leave you notice the way he hesitates before he does, eyes travelling to your lips before meeting yours.

You smile, but then his pale eyes travel to the woman that is cleaning her hands with her back turned to the both of you, and you understand the question.

Being Ivar the Boneless’ woman is not something you would ever feel shame for being, or wish to hide, and though you do have your reservations about what it would mean as a commander of your own share of forces within the Great Army to be so close to one of the sons of Ragnar, you know no fear of rumors is with making Ivar believe you are ashamed of being his.

Instead of voicing your answer to the question he doesn’t ask, you just tilt your chin up, eyes on his.

Ivar’s smile is a tad on the shy side, a tad overwhelmed, but he still dutifully leans down and captures your mouth in his, promising to meet with you again after you’ve spent time with your warriors.

He leaves, and before long, as the healer changes the bandages on your leg and shoulder, you hear the familiar sounds of your friends settling again in the small home. It makes a pang of what you refuse to call regret go through your heart, at the thought of how easily accustomed they are to spending time at this home, waiting to know if you would survive or not.

You take a breath, and walk out to meet them.

Vígdís, one of the elder shieldmaidens, doesn’t even look up from the piece of chicken she is carefully pulling apart with her fingers as she states dryly, “I was betting he would kill you.”

“I’m glad you gals are on my side, really.”

Hlíf swallows a mouthful of chicken and points the drumstick at you, “Hey, I bet you’d kill him.”

You look at her with a frown before conceding, “Actually, that’s flattering.”

She offers a toothy smile, and encourages you, “Yeah, you could take him!”

Vígdís scoffs, “Oh, she wants to,” At your glare the older woman only shrugs one shoulder, “Or the other way around. You don’t have a preference, do you, Dane?”

“Anyhow,” You drawl out, turning to the others, “I suggest you prepare your belongings and say your goodbyes. We won’t raid with Ivar and Hvitserk in these lands, our forces are needed elsewhere. We will be travelling to East Anglia in a fortnight.”

Hlíf scoffs, “One hell of a spat you two had, huh?”

“Wh-…? You know, I really don’t want to hear it. Just…do what you must.”

“I’m just saying, your love life is taking us all over England, Dane.”

“Shut your mouth already.” You grumble, but Hlíf’s brazen laughter resonates in the small home.

____

In the days that go by -way too quickly for your liking- before you are to depart to East Anglia, you find yourself drunk on the foolish happiness of having within reach what you never truly thought you’d have.

It is three nights before you leave that in the quiet of your shared room Ivar presses his lips to yours with a softness that is jarringly unlike him, and breathed over your lips the most hushed I love you.

It was that same night that you tangled your fingers in his hair and drew him back against you, not able or willing to resist the temptation to flick your tongue over the scarred side of his lip to make one of those choked little sounds leave his lips; and when he kissed you back hungrily pulled back to promise the same, just as softly even if you vowed it fiercely, I love you.

And now you are to depart. Standing in the stables and watching as your shieldmaidens and warriors finish loading their belongings and the supplies for the road.

Ivar is next to you, leaning against a wall with an arm secured around your waist and allowing you to rest slightly on his chest.

“Take some of my men with you.” He insists, for what must be the thousandth time since you made the agreement to part until the last month of the spring.

“I don’t need protection,” You remind him, leaning back a bit so you can see his face, “If I remember correctly, and I do, last time it was you who needed help from me.”

“I didn’t need help.”

“Of course not, love.”

Ivar takes a deep breath at your mocking tone, choosing instead to insist, “Just take those men with you.”

“No.” You tell him, one last pat of your hand on his chest before you turn to walk away.

Before you can pull away his free hand grasps yours, and you easily give in to the slight pull, turning back to met him and stepping closer again.

Ivar tilts his head down so he can look you in the eye, something dark and tempting shining through his expression as his mouth curves into a crooked smile.

“I thought wives are supposed to obey their husbands?”

Your heart does a foolish thing in your chest, beating out of rhythm as if trying to leave your chest and burrow into his. Still, you stare him down with your head tilted to the side, and all the answer you offer is a dry reminder,

“‘Countless sons and daughters’, Ivar. If we are holding each other accountable for those promises, we ought to start there.”

He wants to argue, you know he does. And you aren’t entirely convinced some of the warriors that join your forces because they want to aid Ubbe are there at all for him, but you have no evidence, so you shut your mouth and just make sure to keep an eye on them.

As you expected, they act as your bodyguards, no matter how much you try pushing them away.

And so time passes, and in your time on the road towards Soham you are able to heal well enough, slowly getting back to training with Hlíf and Vígdís. And by the time you reach Soham, where Ubbe awaits support to hold on to the city, you are able to fight once again.

And how you dearly missed it.

Time becomes a blur after that. Soham proves to be more difficult to hold than expected, and so your forces remain a while longer before moving to Dunwich where you manage to take over relatively easy, since the Saxon forces retreated from the coastal city.

The years made you capable, and the Gods made you arrogant.

Which is why, as the warriors from Dunwich start retreating, following their Lord’s commands, you, standing still close enough to the edges of the frontlines that Saxons scurry around you, take a knee and pretend to catch your breath.

The footsteps behind you are predictable, and you tighten your hold on the shield. When the warrior gets close enough and tries striking, you lift your shield, catching his arm on the edge of it as you stand up.

You twist your arm holding on to the shield, feeling the strain in his own and hearing his surprised scream of pain.

It snaps out of place under the strain, and satisfied, you let go of him with a push. He stumbles forward and tries grabbing onto a dropped sword with his uninjured arm, and you let him.

Readying your stance, you notice two others refuse to retreat as well now that their countryman is fighting, but make no notice of them as you stride forward, driving your sword through him, ignoring his pitiful attempt at deflecting it.

You approach the other two, shield tightly grasped, and push back against the strike of the first one against your shield, deflecting the sword of the second one with your own.

Making use of your smaller size, you quickly spin in your place and slash the neck of one of them, lifting your shield just in time to stop the attack of the second one.

But he lets out a grunt, falls down before you can kill him. The Saxon falls on his face, an axe protruding from his back.

You lift your eyes to meet those of an unfamiliar warrior, who stands proudly and offers you a nod.

“You’re welcome.”

Walking past him and not bothering to hide your distaste, you insist, “I didn’t need any help, and certainly not from you.”

He proves to be more insistent than you would have thought, and for too many nights you have to bear him sitting close by to you, trying to impress you with one tale or another. The man is unbearably persistent on either bedding you or courting you, and as the days go by after the fight for Dunwich, he proves to not be the only one.

Until, eventually, you can’t take it anymore.

____

“I’m going to need an explanation for that.” Hlíf asks, a broad smile on her lips and eyes shining with mirth.

You grit your teeth and start walking away, but of course she follows.

The winds of East Anglia are biting, and the ground under your feet is still softer and so different than that of your home, but in the time that has passed since you and your warriors joined the Great Army you have learned to be as familiar with this foreign land of England as you once were with your own.

Granted, the incessant waves at the coast and the ever-present sea salt in the air that characterize Dunwich are not something you are planning on getting used to any time soon. You really just want to get back to York.

“I shouldn’t have saved her ass at Soham.” You mutter to yourself, even if you know you don’t mean it.

“I heard that!”

“You proved you have ears, congratulations.”

She skips the few steps she was lagging behind, walking at your side and matching your stride with a wide grin that you choose to ignore.

“Thank you, but I’m married,” She quotes, the mirth coming through in her voice, and she laughs to herself, “Gods above, Dane, what kind of answer is that?”

“He was insistent, and I couldn’t exactly fist fight one of Ubbe’s trusted men,” You explain, your voice a grumble when you add, “Tis not my fault if the prick heard I was a princess and suddenly decided he needed to have me.”

“You sure it was your title? After seeing you fight when we took this city, I’m not surprised so many want you.”

“Hey, I appreciate the compliment, don’t get me wrong,” You quip, sparing a glance to her, “But if you’re trying to court me, I’m afraid it will go as well as it did for Olvir.”

On her lips grows once again the mischievous and devilish smile, and the shieldmaiden tilts her head to the side as she says, “Oh, I know that, because you’re married.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why lie?”

“It wasn’t a lie.”

“If you think you’re making sense, prepare for disappointment.”

You shrug your shoulders, “It’s…complicated.”

“Well, the whole camp will soon hear about you telling Olvir you’re married, so we might as well get the story right: are you taken, Dane?”

Blunt, and to the point, not that you expected anything different from Hlíf.

You consider your words before answer, slowly, “Yes.”

She chuckles, shoulder knocking against yours playfully, “Ah, so who is the fool that has your heart but isn’t staking a claim?”

“He has, you just haven’t noticed.”

She stops walking, and so you too stop, turning to look at her wide eyes and offering a shrug of your shoulders again.

“You mean…” You nod, and past the surprise she finds it in her to laugh, shaking her head in amazement, “Oh, you really are a mad woman, aren’t you?”

“Well, we are technically married. I can’t turn my back on a bond before the Gods, right?”

She shakes her head with a chuckle, “So that is why you have been so insufferable, you miss York. I just thought you really hated East Anglia.”

“I really hate East Anglia.”

“Of course, Dane.”

____

You return to York as dawn breaks, and you don’t have time to get off your horse before Hvitserk is standing there, arms crossed over his chest and leaning with one shoulder on the entrance to the stables.

He offers his older brother a nod of his head as greeting, but Ubbe passes him by and Hvitserk keeps his eyes on you.

He blurts out, “You are married?”

“Hello to you too. I am glad to see you alive and well, dear Hvitserk.”

“You are married.”

You look at him, at his smug little smile and his warm eyes shining with mirth, and take a deep breath.

“You should know, you were there at the wedding.”

His sniggering laughter follows you as you walk away, but you forget your irritation quite quickly as you find Ivar in the rustle of movement, determined and uneven steps carrying him towards you.

Your smile is wide and lovesick and foolish, but you do not care for hiding it. His is quieter, more secret, but it doesn’t fail to make your heart skip a beat in your chest.

Ivar’s free hand grasps at the back of your neck once you are close enough, bringing your mouth to his with urgency, quickly letting the kiss become passionate as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Your hands find purchase on his hips, and more than ever you hate the armor that doesn’t let you feel him his warmth, his strength- under your fingers.

“I missed you.” You whisper quietly when you part, your brow pressed against his.

He blinks his eyes open, more than a little dazed, and the look in his eyes -the need, the adoration, the everything- makes a pang of heat go through you, threaten to set you alight with only a look.

“And I you.” He finally tells you, quiet voice rough.

You barely have time to be alone with Ivar before obligations pull you apart, a feast to welcome back the forces Ubbe and the Princess of Ribe, a reunion to exchange tales of victory and be together with those that were missed in the months apart.

Granted, that means that they don’t let you be together with the one you missed the most in those months apart, but you don’t have it in you to complain. Except you do, but that is not the point.

The night dies down and you roll your eyes at a few pointed toasts in congratulations for your marriage, but remain sitting at your place beside Ivar, pretending not to notice his hand on your knee or his arm around the back of your chair.

You grab his hand when it starts trailing up your leg and making you feel the effects of his touch like lightning crawling over your skin, and you could swear the smug bastard chuckles at the way you have to stop him.

“Eh, sister!” Hvitserk calls out, and with gritted teeth you turn to look at him, sitting by Sigurd’s side with an arm over his brother’s shoulders, “I am glad you are back, truly.”

“Thank you, Hvitserk.” You tell him, immediately feeling like you are about to regret accepting he doesn’t mean to tease you any longer.

“If only because I cannot stand my brother’s moping any longer. Who would have thought a son of Ragnar would be so loyal to his wife?”

You dismiss him with a gesture, but you cannot help but chuckle alongside the others.

Ivar turns his head towards you, nose almost nuzzling at your hair as he moves closer to speak by your ear,

“Why did you tell people you’re married?”

You don’t lift your gaze from your joined hands, following the trace of your fingers as they trace over the back of Ivar’s hand, “So that they would leave me alone.”

“No one is leaving you alone now that they think you are my wife.”

You spare him a look, glancing up, “The men that insist on either bedding me or courting me will, and that is enough for me.”

Ivar, of course, clings only to part of the words you speak, and his voice lowers, expression hardened with what you would swear is jealousy -pointless, unfounded, stupid jealousy- as he asks,

“Who are these men?”

Your eyes narrow, you honestly cannot believe this man.

“Are you serious right now?”

“I just want to know who they are.”

“I-…” Running your free hand through over your face, you bite back a groan, “Everyone thinks we are married now, shouldn’t you be worrying about that?”

He shrugs, “You were the one that told them you are married.”

“You are the one that I told them I’m married to!” You tell him, exasperated. He says nothing, and in the two blinks that he offers you somehow find it in you to be even more offended, “You truly are not worried?”

“Why should I be?”

Slowly, you remind him, “We are not actually married, Ivar.”

He shrugs, “We could be.”

“But we aren’t.”

“But we could be.” He insists easily.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, taking a moment to bite back irritation, you love him, even when he is being intentionally insufferable.

“Is this your way of asking me to marry you?”

“You seem to have done that for me already,” He replies instead, raised eyebrows and another shrug of his shoulders that only makes you angrier. “You seem to have done more than that.”

You sigh, and shake your head at his mocking, only to make him chuckle at your reaction. Gods, he is infuriating.

Ivar’s smile loses the mocking edge as he leans even close, pressing a soft kiss by the side of your mouth in an attempt to make you stop pretending to be angry.

“What’s the harm in that, hm?” He asks, eyes falling from yours to your lips when you finally turn your head to face him, “They know you’re mine now.”

You almost want to argue there’s no way they wouldn’t know judging by the way the two of you have been joined at the hip since you returned from Dunwick, but you won’t deny a part of you grows darkly proud at knowing everyone knows he is yours and yours alone.

“And you are mine.” You remind him lowly, the beginning of a smile on your lips. His eyes linger on the curve of your mouth, lids growing a little heavier at your words and tone, and you have never felt more powerful.

Ivar nods his head,

“I am, wife.”

____

As you come down from both of your highs you find out Ivar is as unwilling to relinquish the closeness as you are, and in between soft touches and breathed presses of lips on heated skin, you find a kind of peace you never realized how much you missed.

“I was thinking,” He starts, and you cannot stop yourself from teasing him, so you let out a soft, uh-oh, and he scoffs, biting down on the side of your neck in retaliation, “We will be settled in the Isles by next winter.”

Ivar pulls back to look at you, holding himself up on one of his arms. At the strange expression in his pale eyes, you reach up with one hand and caress the side of his face under the guise of moving his hair back.

“We will.”

“Let’s go back to Kattegat,” He tells you, a tad rushed, “For this winter. Let’s spend one last winter in Kattegat.”

“Are you homesick, love?” You drawl, a side smile that he rolls his eyes at.

“What do you say?”

You search his gaze, because something tells you there’s more to the question, more to the action of spending your winter in Kattegat.

You won’t lie and pretend you haven’t missed the town, you won’t lie and pretend the memories you made there aren’t still with you, kept safe by some nostalgic and soft part of your heart.

Fate has a funny way of working, you’ve learned, and time brought you back to the side of the boys you made so many of those memories alongside of. Time brought back to you the cadence of Sigurd’s voice as he hums in par with his oud, time brought back to you Ubbe’s easy companionship as you train together, time brought back to you the secret smiles you share with Hvitserk over a joke only the two of you know of. Time brought back to you the one you’ve loved since before you even knew what love was, brought back to you the heart that your own finds itself familiar with.

But there is a part of you that misses Kattegat and always will, the sinuous streets of your childhood, the foreign scents and sounds of the bubbling market.

Instead of giving your answer outright -you always did like making things harder than they have to be-, you muse aloud,

“Having married you when we were children should keep me safe from your mother’s wrath, shouldn’t it?”

“Wrath?”

You let your fingers trace over the scar over his lip, the one you are very much responsible for. In these last few months, you’ve grown quite fascinated with it, with how it stretches when he smiles one of those big and crooked smiles, and especially with how Ivar trembles when you run your tongue over it before kissing him.

But that is not the point.

The point is you are very much responsible for at least one of the new scars Aslaug’s youngest son bears, and she will know, and she will look at you in that way you remember from your younger years. It is enough to make a grown woman shiver.

Ivar chuckles as he understands your hesitation, “You don’t need to fear her.”

“Easy for you to say.” You scoff.

“And if I tell you she still remembers fondly that childish wedding? Will you agree to come then, hm?”

“No,” At his frustrated sigh you tighten your fingers on his hair in silent reprimand, “Now I know you’re just saying that to appease me.”

“I would never.” Ivar mocks, earning another tug of his hair that he breathes a laugh at. You don’t fail to notice the way the laugh stutters a bit past his lips, you are very much aware of your effect of your hands on him.

Said effect is very much evidenced in the way he doesn’t resist the temptation to lean down and steal your breath with the slowest of kisses, his nose nudging against yours softly before he speaks again, voice low,

“What if it wasn’t just that wedding?”

“W-What?”

His eyes open to look into yours, an edge of anxiety, of hesitation, that he -of course- pushes past anyways, clearing his throat and asking, “What if there were something more…permanent than that wedding from our childhood?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“A second and last time.” He vows, a quirk of his mouth that speaks of jest but does nothing to hide the apprehension that shines in his eyes.

There was never anyone else, not for you and not for him.

Your answer leaves your lips in a breath that Ivar doesn’t hesitate to taste against your lips, with a gentleness that speaks of adoration and desperation, stealing your breath much in the same way he stole your heart.

____

Aslaug almost wants to laugh at the irony that it was the youngest of her boys that was the first one the be married, not once, but two times. And, surprising only those that don’t know him well enough, to the same woman both times.

Older but still holding that arrogant pride at the announcement -the same pride she saw in him when you walked Kattegat’s streets with your hand in Ivar’s- Ivar sat down in front of her and told her he had found a woman he wanted to marry.

And her heart felt a surge of a warmth she had long since missed with all her sons fighting their wars and their father’s across the sea; not willing or capable to hold back the wide smile that blossomed in her face.

Her hands cupped her son’s face, and the small, almost shy smile he offered her reminded her so much of the boy he once was. She promised her blessing and vowed how proud she was, and in silence, as she looked into her youngest son’s eyes, she thanked the Gods for being allowed to live to see this, to see him happy.

She knows there are so many twists of Fate that have let this happen. She knows -like she knows the streets of her kingdom- of the paths their son’s life could have taken, almost took. She knows of yours, and what could have been.

Even if she hadn’t heard of your close encounter with death in England, she would have the moment she was forced to see in her dreams what had happened across the sea, she would have the moment she saw the way it still haunted Ivar today.

For almost two weeks she dreamt of her son’s voice, the same repeated pleas to the Gods -to whatever would listen- said so many times his voice grew ragged and broke. Still, he did the one thing he could, and pleaded with the Gods for more time, for anything other than this.

He needn’t know she went to the Volür and they all made a sacrifice praying with the Gods to give a Dane shieldmaiden strength and health. He needn’t know, and he won’t.

Because it is past now, and you have healed and learned, and he has healed too. And there is no use in resurfacing pain in an occasion such as this.

Kattegat is lively even as winter approaches fast and cruel, the flurry of motion increased even more now that a Prince is to get married.

Your smile is the same mad little smile she remembers from your younger years in Kattegat, and Helga’s hands are more worn and her smile is a tad dimmer, but her fingers are still nimble and gentle as they braid the wedding crown of winter flowers.

Aslaug feels the pull of emotion when Ivar cups your face between trembling hands and kisses his wife for the first time, she feels the tears prickling at her eyes at the lovesick smiles on your faces as you remain in that moment after a kiss for a few breaths, eyes locked together and futures intertwined.

Ubbe stands tall as he watches his younger brother get married, and Aslaug’s heart grows warm at the easy smile that curves her son’s lips. She still cannot help herself, and finds herself hoping before winter is over and her sons are to depart from her side again, that she can see him with a woman by his side as well. For too long Ubbe carried a burden he shouldn’t have, shouldering the brunt of the world for the sake of his brothers, a boy trying to stand as tall as the man that left an absence in his place after Paris. Even if she once argued she cares not if they find love as long as they find a good woman to breed and form a family with, she holds the secret hope that she can see Ubbe happily settled with someone that he can love.

She hopes the same for Hvitserk, who watches the ceremony with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, but she knows better than to expect him to settle anytime soon. Before the celebratory feast is halfway over, he has teasingly held a young girl to his side and exclaimed, mother, I am getting married as well, three times, with three different women. She doesn’t hold much hope he will settle soon, and has to bite her tongue and tell herself she is happy for him even if he insists on sleeping his way through Kattegat.

Reluctantly, she admits it is Sigurd who might follow in Ivar’s footsteps and marry next. He and that Christian girl have been promised to one another for years now, and the excuse of war and distance has kept them safe from their obligations to marry. But Aslaug knows it is a matter of time. For all her demure and shy nature, Blaeja’s eyes shine with something like amazement as she takes in the wedding ceremony even if a faint blush covers her face at yours and Ivar’s displays of affection. And she won’t pretend she doesn’t notice the way Sigurd lingers close to the princess, irradiating that gentleness of him that Aslaug is still regretful for having made so fragile in her carelessness.

Winter lets her have all her sons with her, though she knows it is probably the last time. Ivar has plans to settle in the Isles, the title of king and the promise of advantageous positions for his war against Alfred enough of a lure to keep her son across the sea; Ubbe has intentions to settle and take families with him to England even if he has to wade through blood to do so, Sigurd won’t stay too long away from his princess anymore, and Hvitserk will nevr bear to stay apart from his brothers.

But she has this winter, and it is enough. She will sit with her sons and have dinner while they talk and argue and laugh, and she will hear Ivar and Sigurd go for each other’s throats as if they haven’t spent these years fighting side by side, and she will watch you and Ivar get drunk on nothing but each other, and she will thank the Gods for all of it.

____ ____ ____

Thank you for reading, I apologize if this isn’t very good, I tried my best. Love ya!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @maggiescarborough @chibisgotovalhalla @fae-sedai @zuxiezendler @crazybunnyladysworld   @stupiddarkkside @northumbria @aprilivar

[hangovercurse]

Crash Into Me

You’d been MGK’s assistant for years, but you never thought you had a chance at anything more with him until one stoplight changes everything.

Request: “ok im so sorry if this is 2 specific but ive had this idea for ages abt pining!colson x an insecure/clueless!reader who has been his assistant forever. she gets into a car accident and calls him hours later to tell him that a temp will be taking her place for a few weeks (bc of injuries) and he's like ?? why?? she explains nonchalantly, then kells kinda freaks out and shows up at the hospital all worried”

Colson Baker X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, car accident (descriptive)

A/N: This was cute 😊

Word Count: 3185

“Alright Kells, I’m out for the night. I’ll email those tracks to the board when I get home and I’ll let you know if I get any updates for tomorrow’s press.” You told the blond man who was sitting on the couch as you put your laptop into your bag. You tried not to yawn as you heaved it over your shoulder, “anything else?”

You glanced at the kitchen clock that read 2 am and let out a small sigh. You were used to late nights given your job as assistant to a rockstar, but most nights you were able to leave before 8 pm. Tonight you and Colson had gotten really invested in the tracks you were editing and lost track of time.

“Y/N,” he turned to look at you with puppy dog eyes. He wanted something that you really weren’t gonna want to give him. “Could you come over early tomorrow to help me pick out what to wear for the Vanity Fair interview?”

You chuckled, “you know they have their own wardrobe department?”

He sighed, “yeah but you know me so much better than all those stylists. I trust your opinion more.”

You rolled your eyes as he tilted his head, begging you. “Fine, but I’m buying us coffee with your credit card.”

He broke out into a smile, “thank you, love you!” He called as you walked towards his front door.

“Whatever, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You told him, taking your car keys into your hands, and stepping out into the LA night. There was a soft breeze that shook the trees slightly, making you smile. It felt nice outside for the first time in a while.

Because of this, you decided to drive home with your windows rolled down, letting the wind flow through your hair. The roads were pretty barren by LA standards, so traffic was pretty much non-existent. You were sitting at a red light, your fingers tapping against your steering wheel as one of Colson’s songs played through your speakers softly.

You reached to turn up the volume as the light turned green. You pressed the gas, your car moving forward into the intersection. Suddenly you heard a loud squeal of brakes, looking over to your passenger window to the sight of two headlights barreling towards you. You tried to speed up to get out of the way, but it was too late.

The truck rammed straight into the side of your small car, pushing your vehicle over into the car next to you. You put your left arm up to shield you from any flying debris, but it was futile. The infrastructure of your car fell apart at the force, the dashboard collapsing onto your right leg. Luckily, your left leg managed to avoid the destruction.

You could barely feel the force of the whiplash due to the pain in your abdomen at the deployment of the airbag. Glass from the car next to you fell into your car through your open window, cutting into your skin.

And then all of a sudden, everything stopped. The truck that had hit you had stopped moving, allowing you to fully assess the damage. Your car was totaled for sure, and your leg was definitely crushed. You cried out in pain, breathing heavy and trying to see straight. You could hear the sound of sirens in the distance, giving you some sense of relief.

When the paramedics got to the scene, you were the last passenger to be taken out of the crash due to your car being in the center. A firefighter had to break the glass of your windshield, which was already cracked, in order to pull you out. When you told him your leg was stuck under the dashboard, he sent a team of men to lift it from your foot and another to pull you out of the wreckage.

They were all amazed you were still conscious but got very worried when you told them you couldn’t feel the pain in your leg. You rode in an ambulance to the hospital, the EMTs helping pick the glass from your skin and assessing your injuries. You made jokes with them to calm yourself down, something that you did with Colson and Rook whenever they got into accidents while you were out with them.

You thought about giving them Colson’s name when they asked about your emergency contact but decided against it. You didn’t want to worry him until absolutely necessary. You figured you’d see what the doctor had to say and if you wouldn’t be able to come back to work, then you would tell him.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what the doctor said. In fact, you wouldn’t be able to leave the hospital for at least a week due to your shattered leg, bruised abdomen, and concussion.

The leg would require at least 2 if not more surgeries to repair and you would be on close watch for development of a more serious brain injury. After that you most likely wouldn’t be able to be back on your feet for another 8 to 12 weeks, which was kind of a requirement for your job.

It was almost 5am, so you weren’t necessarily thinking straight when you called Colson from your cracked phone. He answered, his voice conveying how tired he was. “Y/N? Everything okay?”

“Hey Kells, I’m not gonna be able to come in early tomorrow, or at all. I’m gonna start looking for a temporary replacement tomorrow if I’m feeling up to it. Oh! And I couldn’t send those tracks to the board, sorry.” You told him, only half registering the words you were saying.

The confusion was evident in his voice, “what? Why do you need to find a replacement?”

You realized you had forgotten to tell him what happened. “Oh, yeah! It’s kind of funny.” You started, chuckling but then realizing that laughing made your stomach hurt even more. “And by funny, I mean not funny at all. I got into a car accident. Some dude ran into my car in an intersection and now I’m in the hospital.”  

“Which hospital?” Colson asked, suddenly much more awake.

“Hollywood Presbyterian.” You told him, “why?”

He sounded like he was rushing around, which he was. “I’m coming to see you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “why? I’m fine, you don’t need to do that. You have a big interview tomorrow, you should sleep.”

Colson sighed, “fuck the interview, I’ll be there in a few.”

“Colson you don’t-“ You started, but he hung up before you could tell him not to come.

Why was he rushing to see you in the hospital? Sure, you were friends, but he had much more important things to worry about right now. And besides, you were more casual work friends. He wouldn’t even know you existed if you didn’t work for him. Sure, you had a huge crush on him, but he was your boss, you were just someone he asked to do things he didn’t want to do.

 20 minutes later Colson ran into the hospital room, stopping when he saw you in the bed. Your face was red from chemical burn and a few cuts of glass. Your right leg was propped up with basic bandaging around it. His heart broke at the thought of how much pain you had probably been in.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly, moving to sit in the chair on your left side.

You shrugged, “I’ve been better.”

“Why didn’t you call me sooner?” He asked, eyes full of pity.

“I didn’t want to bother you unless it was serious. Figured I’d find out if I would have to miss work before telling you.” You said, squeezing your eyes shut as a headache washed over you.

Colson’s mouth gaped open, “you didn’t want to bother me? You got in a car crash and you weren’t gonna call me unless you would have to miss work?”

You shrugged again, “yeah. If my laptop wasn’t completely crushed in the accident I would’ve just found and sent a temp in tomorrow, but obviously that’s impossible.”

“Y/N you’re kidding me, right?” He asked, exasperated. You furrowed your eyebrows in response, causing a sigh to fall from his lips. “Y/N I don’t give a shit about a temp; I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh, I’m fine. A little shaken and these headaches are killer, but they gave me a lot of pain medication so, I’m fine.” You smiled at him, your thoughts racing as you tried to figure out why he cared so much about how you were feeling.

He nodded, hand reaching out and landing on top of yours gently. “So, do they have to do surgery? What all did the doctors say?” He asked, worry in his eyes.

You nodded, “yeah, at least 2 surgeries. One around 11 am and then depending on how that one goes they’ll schedule the next. And they have to watch me to make sure my concussion doesn’t get worse.”

He pulled out his phone, typing away. “What are you doing?” You asked, suddenly feeling very tired.

“I just emailed the PR liaison for Vanity Fair and told them I wouldn’t be able to make it to the interview.” He responded.

“Why did you do that?” You asked through a yawn.

He looked at you like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, “because I have to be with you right now.”

You were very confused as to why he thought he had to be here. “Colson, I’ll be fine. You should go to the interview. You don’t have to stay here.”

“I do have to be here. I want to be here.” He said, sternly.

“Why?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes open.

“Because I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I’ll just call you after the surgery, it’s no big deal.” You responded lazily.

He shook his head, “I want to stay here with you, Y/N. Okay? I care about you.”

You were too tired to process what he was saying at this point, so you just let out a hum. “I need to make sure you’re okay. I need to see you being okay. When you called me, I swear I was gonna have a heart attack if I didn’t see you.” He continued.

You were barely awake at this point, letting out a simple, “I’m okay” before slipping into unconsciousness.

 Suddenly you were back in your car, “Bloody Valentine” playing from your speakers. The sky was dark green, almost like a painting. In front of you, the red light turned green. Like clockwork, you pressed the gas, moving into the intersection. Suddenly, the lights disappeared, and you heard the familiar chilling sound of breaks squealing. You looked over and saw those headlights coming towards you, getting closer and closer, brighter, and brighter.

You screamed at the sight, the familiar paralyzing fear coursing through your body again. “Y/N!” Your name played through the radio. That’s not in the song, you thought. “Y/N!” Colson’s voice rang out again before the truck made contact with your car.

You woke up in a cold sweat to Colson standing over you, hands shaking your shoulders lightly. “Y/N.” He said, relieved when your eyes began to open.

Your entire body was shaking like a poodle and your arms subconsciously reached for Colson, hanging onto his shirt for dear life. “It was just a dream.” He whispered as your eyes darted around the room. “You’re okay.” He reassured you.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered, hands leaving the fabric and moving to cover up your face. “I’m sorry.”

Colson sat on the bed next to you, legs hanging off the side as he stroked your face gently. “It’s okay, baby.” He turned to the nurse who opened the door, a worried expression on her face. He shook his head at her, “sorry, she just had a nightmare. She’s okay.” The nurse nodded but stayed in the room anyways, checking your vitals.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled again, the words seeming to be the only thing you could say.

Colson shook his head, “stop saying that, it’s okay.” You pouted at him, trying to scoot over so he would lay down next to you, but it was way too painful. “What are you doin?” He asked, a smile on his face.

You sighed, “wanted you to sit next to me but I can’t move because of this stupid leg.” You motioned to the leg in question.

Colson chuckled, “I can sit next to you in the chair.”

“That didn’t work last time.” You whined.

He looked at you with an expression that was both amused and confused. You were definitely still high on pain medication. “What didn’t work.”

“It didn’t stop the nightmare.” You frowned, hand reaching for his. He chuckled, standing up fully and looking at the nurse.

She flashed him an amused smile, “If you want, we can try to move her. I don’t know how much we can do without hurting her ribs, though.”

Colson nodded with a gracious smile, “hear that? We can’t move you because of your ribs.”

You glared at him, “I may be very high right now, but I’m not that high.” You said, making him giggle. “She said you could try.”

Colson let out an exasperated sigh, one arm going under your back and the other under your left leg. “Is this what it’s like taking care of me all the time?” He asked and you nodded your head firmly.

“Yep. Except I am much smaller than you, so you have less work to do with me.” You smiled as he lifted you off the bed, which quickly turned into a grimace. “Ow!” You yelped and Colson quickly set you down, slightly closer to the right side of the bed.

“Fuck, sorry princess. Are you okay?” He asked, voice soft.

You nodded, sucking in your bottom lip to block the whimpers of pain that threatened to escape your mouth. “You probably don’t remember, but one time you were so crossed that you called me to pick you up from a party. But you couldn’t make it out of the car, so I had to carry you into your house. And then you demanded to sleep in your own room, so you made me drag you up the stairs instead of passing out on the couch like normal.”

Colson let out a breathy chuckle, glad you weren’t hurt too much. He carefully sat onto the cot next to you, pulling up his right leg to sit on the bed. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into him slightly. You shifted so that you were comfortable, left hand finding his own left hand and holding it. He brought his left leg up onto the bed so he was fully laying with you.

Your head rest on his chest, a soft smile on your face as his thumb rubbed circles on your hand. The nurse left, satisfied that you wouldn’t hurt yourself further. Colson pressed a small kiss to the top of your head, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

“What time is it?” You asked him, to which he responded by pulling out his phone and showing you the lock screen. 8:47am. You nodded, a frown on your face, “did you get any sleep?” You asked him softly.

“I’m fine, I was asleep for a few hours before you called me.”

You sighed, feeling guilty. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

You felt him shake his head from behind you, “I’m staying right here.”

Despite wanting to force him to go home, you couldn’t help the happiness you felt at his stubbornness to stay with you. “You know you don’t need to be here. I won’t be offended if you leave.”

He chuckled, “stop trying to get me to leave. I’m here. On my own accord, okay? I’m gonna take care of you.”

You paused, thinking about the word floating around your head. “Why?” you whispered.

Colson’s face scrunched in confusion, “what do you mean “why”? Because you’re my friend and I care about you.”

“I mean, yeah. But I’m not like a “drop everything” kind of friend, I’m just your assistant.” You muttered.

Colson made an “are-you-serious?” face and let out a snort. “Seriously? You are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You mean the world to me, of course I’d drop everything for you.”

You couldn’t think of a response, his words making your heart race. “oh.” Was the best you could come up with.

“Y/N, seriously, you think way too low of yourself. You’re amazing.” He said, nose burying into your hair.

You shrugged, “you only say that because I take care of you when you’re drunk and help you do all the things you don’t want to do.”

Colson’s expression softened, a frown forming on his face. “I’m saying that because I think the world of you. You’re the kindest, funniest, coolest person I know. I meant it, when you told me you were in the hospital, my heart almost stopped. I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about you being hurt.” He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I wish you could see how much you mean to me.” He mumbled.

You were quiet for a little while, processing what he had said. “You’re only saying that because I’m in the hospital.” You muttered, a frown on your face. You were trying to keep your hopes low, knowing once you were out of here, he would regret saying any of this.

“Y/N, are you being serious right now? I’m saying this because I’ve been fucking in love with you for the past year and a half.” He said and you could feel your breath catch in your throat. “I can’t believe you don’t see it.”

You bit your lip, turning to look up to him. “I just- I didn’t want- you wouldn’t.” You stumbled over your words, taking a deep breath, and starting again. “I didn’t want to read too much into it or get my hopes up. I figured you’d never be into someone like me so I just told myself you were being nice. I thought you only treated me well because I worked for you.” You mumbled.

He frowned, holding you tighter to him, “I am so, so into you. You are the only woman in my life who has ever stuck by me through my worst shit. Like even when I was a total jackass you stayed with me. How could I not fall in love with you?”

You bit your lip, tears threatening to spill at his sweet sentiment. You’d never had anyone say something that kind about you. You’d always assumed people only kept you around because you did stuff for them, but here was the man you were in love with telling you that he cared about you for you.

“I love you too.” You whispered, leaning your head further into his chest.

[simping-hours-are-24-7]

A Deal to Save What You Have Lost

After the Fall of MC, Mammon is hoping that Lucifer will come help him. But someone else arrives and offers a deal to save what he is losing.

(Mammon x GN!MC, Diavolo x GN!MC)

TW: Heavy angst, forced relationship, elements of non-con, minor descriptions of gore

An alternative (angstier) ending for the fic, Promise That You'll Fall for Me? (tagging @sevendeadlymorons bc you were the one who kinda made it well known and @cherryjkj who asked for a part 2. Not exactly a continuation, but I hope this suffice! also thank you @beepboop0987 for helping me out with this) AO3 Link

Mammon catches their shaky hand in his own, clasping it tightly. “MC, don’t move. Lucifer… Help will come I promise. Please MC, please” he said brokenly, tears now dripping off his face and landing on theirs. “Please hold on just a bit longer.”

MC shook their head, or tried to before groaning, their face and body twisting into pain. Eventually, their body relaxed only somewhat as they met Mammon’s blue eyes through a squinted eye. A shaky grin stretches across their face, “Hey Mammon… looks like I kept my promise.” Another groan escapes them as their face scrunches up again, “Mammon, it hurts…it hurts so much.”

“I know MC, I know.” He whispers out. “Lucifer will come. I promise. He’ll...He’ll help us. So hang on just a bit longer.”

“Oh? This is a rather familiar scene, isn’t it Barbatos?” A deep voice mused above the two lovers. Mammon’s head snaps up and locks eyes with the golden gaze of the Prince.

“Quite familiar indeed. Although to be frank, I didn’t predict this would happen.” Barbatos responds, a placid smile on his face. It pisses Mammon off seeing the butler smile all while MC is suffering beneath him. He wants to tear the smug demon to shreds, but he can’t. Not with MC still struggling to catch their breath without choking. The Avatar glances down at MC and squeezes their hand.

“Help them,” he says weakly, his voice cracking slightly. Now Mammon knew he wasn’t always the sharpest crayon in the box, but he knew shit, important shit. After The Attic Incident, he confronted Lucifer about what he, MC, and Diavolo revealed about Lillith, or at least what little they told everyone else. It took a bit more effort than planned, but Lucifer caved. He spoke of his oath to Lord Diavolo, the promise he made. He clears his throat and stares into Diavolo’s strangely glowing eyes, “I’ll make a deal with you like you did with Lucifer, I’ll do anything. Just help them.”

At the word “anything” Diavolo’s relaxed face shifts into something akin to shock. “Ho? So you know about me and Lucifer’s agreement then. And yet you’ll swear an oath with me?”

Mammon’s eyes flicker down to MC’s barely open ones. He can feel something dark growing within them eating away the last bits of holy energy, the kind of darkness he's grown familiar with for the past millennium. Leaning down, he rests his forehead against theirs, “MC don’t worry, I’m going to help you, I promise you.”

He can feel MC frantically squeezing his hand as if to stop him and hear their weak protests, but he ignores them to look straight into the prince’s still glowing eyes. “I’ll do it, I’ll swear absolute loyalty to you, Prince Diavolo, on my name as Mammon, the Avatar of Greed. In exchange, help MC. They're already halfway to becoming a demon, isn't there something you could do to help them?"

Diavolo's head cocks to the side, "There is. Luckily for you two, not only am I rather fond of our dear MC, they are already halfway to becoming a demon and they still have their pacts with you brothers scarred into their soul." The Prince shakes his head. "I won't ask you the same I asked of Lucifer. As I have said, I am rather fond of them myself. How’s this for a deal Mammon, the second-born, Avatar of Greed? I do what you ask and turn our dear MC into a proper demon with just as much strength as you brothers. However, I take MC as my consort. After all, they’ve been the key to the success of my exchange problem. And where else will we ever meet someone who has been of all Three Realms? But-”

“But what?!” Mammon growls out and pulls the broken, but slowly corrupting form of MC closer to him, still ignoring their weak protests. “What more do you want?! You’re already taking away MC from me!” He can feel his true form boiling under his skin, aching to come out and take MC away, to keep his dearest treasure away from the thief who’s trying to steal away his heart. “You already have my brother, why do you need MC? They’re MINE!”

Diavolo just sighs like a parent watching an unruly child throw a tantrum. It pisses Mammon even more. “Enough Mammon, you didn’t let me finish.” He breaks into a smile, but there is nothing like the kind-hearted demon behind it. It’s sharp and calculating with a slight tinge of amusement, as if eagerly waiting to see what will happen next. “I am already well aware of your feelings for each other. I’m also near certain that their Fall has something to do with you as well. So this will be the deal, Mammon, I use the infernal magic fueling the pacts with you brothers as a way to help their transformation and take them in as my consort. However,” he emphasizes, “I’ll allow you two to be… close shall we say. How’s this? You can be their paramour as long as you swear to never steal away MC from me or the Throne, I’ll do all that I promised.” The prince lets out a hearty laugh, “Quite honestly Mammon you get quite a lot out of this, so what you say Mammon, do we have a deal?”

He stares at the prince’s outreached hand and down to MC. Their eyes have rolled back into their head, probably passed out to pain during his “conversation” with the Prince. He can even see the black horns begin to force its way out from their skull, no longer bleeding gold, but instead a pitch-black tar. And he thinks; either way he’s going to lose them, either to death or to Diavolo. Something within him says just to keep them with him for eternity. They wouldn’t be the first dead body kept within the House. But he can’t. He can’t let MC, the holder of his heart and the only one he truly loved die. Even if it means to let them go.

He leans down and softly kisses MC’s bloody forehead, ignoring the slight sting of both holy and unholy blood left on his lips. “Everything will be alright, I promise.” He whispers, before turning his face up to face Diavolo and plasters a cocky grin on his face. Fake, it feels fake as all hell, but he can’t crack. He’s selling his heart away and one day he’ll get it back, even if he has to steal it away. Clasping his blood-stained hand into the Prince’s, “You have a deal, Lord Diavolo. But don’t go whining about a broken deal if MC elopes with me in the end.”

Diavolo’s grin is just as fake and sharp as his and as he shakes the Avatar’s hand a cloud of Infernal magic swirls around them. “We shall see Mammon. We shall see.”

Previous | Next | M.List | AO3

[realcube]

soft haikyuu!! boys with a baddie* s/o  😈

characters:  yamaguchi, hinata, suga, akaashi, nishinoya & tendou

tw// swearing

*(a/n): anon requested a kinda sassy, sarcastic reader and verbatim ‘she is basically a salt bag, but she also has like some sugar’  so i simplified that down to baddie :) so the reader isn’t really a delinquent but they are a bit rough around the edges uffabvrslbv 

Tadashi Yamaguchi

he definitely thinks you’re really cool and he wants to be just like you :O

bc you give off ‘bad bitch who doesn’t care about what other ppl think about them’ energy and what he would give tO HAVE THAT!!

so that’s when he knew he needed to be your friend >:) 

so he was like ‘tsukki, go talk to (y/n) for me >:)’ thinking that was his first step to becoming confident pfft

luckily, god was on his side though bc the teacher rearranged the seats and you and him were sitting next to each other 

hence, he got the opportunity to talk to you without it seeming too forced

you both fell for each other so hard

like he would act tough to try impress you but you preferred his natural softness while you tried to act uncharacteristically docile so you wouldn’t scare him off but he liked you for your boldness 

it was a match made in heaven 💞

he eventually worked up the courage to ask you out one day and y’all have just been falling more ever since

although, that doesn’t mean yamaguchi’s forgotten one of the main reasons he wanted to be with you in the first place

‘please teach me your ways, (y/n)!’ he pleaded, his head resting on your lap so you had to cover his puppy-eyes with your phone

‘no, tadashi. firstly, you’re sweet and gentle- you’re just built like that. secondly, i don’t have any ‘ways’ to teach you!’

yamaguchi continued to pry, ‘then how are you just so effortlessly self-assured?’

‘who told you that, tadashi?’

‘no one.’ yamaguchi poked the back of your hand to get you to move it, ‘but remember that time one of the guys in our class tried to make fun of the size of your head and you told him to shut up?’

you rolled your eyes, setting your phone aside before placing a brief kiss on yamaguchi’s forehead, ‘he said he couldn’t see the board because of my ‘big head’, tadashi; that’s hardly an insult. also, what else could i have possibly said other than that?’

but then you remembered this is yamaguchi you’re talking to; if that was him, he’d probably apologise, move his head aside then cry in the bathroom or sumn.

‘i should be the one asking you why you’re so insecure. i mean, i know everyone is a little bit insecure about something but you just take it to a whole other level.’ you mused, absentmindedly massaging his scalp

yamaguchi frowned, ‘exactly! teach me how to stop being insecure.’

‘no please, no thank you?’ you inquired with a snicker, realising that your habits might of accidentally rubbed off on him

bc just a few weeks ago, he’d be thanking you for breathing the same air as him but now he didn’t even say ‘please’ when asking for a favour 

gasp

‘please teach me how to be resilient, (y/n).’

you chuckled, leaning down to whisper in his ear, ‘okay, since you’re so polite, i’ll tell you my secret - but promise not to tell anybody else!.’

‘i promise.’ yamaguchi replied without hesitation

‘okay, first thing you need to do is go to the depths of hell and find satan hims--’ 

yamaguchi let out a sigh as he realised that you weren’t being serious then playfully flicked your forehead away, ‘rude.’

you beamed, pressing another kiss upon his forehead, ‘i know~’

Shōyō Hinata

let’s not pretend hinata wasn’t shitting his pants when he first heard about you from kageyama

‘they called me a shitty setter the other day.’

but kageyama failed to mention the part where he cut you in line for lunch 🙄 mans had it coming

like hinata genuinely thought that if he came within a 5 foot radius of you, you’d literally come for volleyball career

plus, hinata knew he had a lot of things to be insults on (mostly, his height) so he decided to keep his distance at first 

but when he actually saw you - rather than a vague description that kageyama conjured - he kinda fell head over heels

well, not only bc of your looks - he isn’t that shallow

but the same day, you dropped your purse/wallet on the walk home and ,mhsince hinata was walking behind you, he acted as any good Samaritan would; picked it up then handed it to you 

then you said something along the lines of ‘thanks, shorty.’

not shawty. lord- shorty as in short with a y at the end

and whether you meant that as a dig or not was beyond him - but either way, he fkn adored it 

also it doesn’t matter whether you are taller or shorter than hinata- he is still short-stuff >:)

by some miracle he managed to ask you out successfully and he’s kinda been glued to you ever since

like he wants to spend every second that he’s not at volleyball club/school with you 

and if you tell him he’s being clingy, he’s going to cry-

nonono jk jk

he’d probably be a bit offended but then give you your space

also, you noticed how he was really endeared by the tad mean nicknames you gave him like ‘shorty’, ‘short stuff’ and ‘ginger’

the only ones he didn’t like was ‘boke’ or ‘dumbass’ bc it reminded him too much of kageyama + tsukishima

so you started calling him these things - teasingly - more frequently 

and he loves it ngl

as long as you aren’t truly mean to him, he enjoys being called these things by you for some reason

so, his first mistake was assuming that you’d like being called these joking nicknames just as much as he does

you were helping him with english once and it’s definitely not his strong suit

same, hinata

‘look at that! you spelt all your vocabs correctly, for a change.’ you commented, peering over the desk at the paper sitting in front of him

his eyes widened and his lips curled into a hopeful smile, ‘really?!’

‘no.’ you snickered, pointing to the first word on the list. ‘your word was taxis - you wrote ‘texas’, dumbass.’

hinata let out an exasperated sigh, propping his elbow onto the table to rest his cheek on his palm

then, he had an idea ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

‘alright, stupidface, should i rewrite them?’

you gasped, furrowing your brows at what he just called you 

for a moment, you thought you might’ve misheard him but upon observing his smug expression, you realised that he really did just call you a ‘stupidface’ 

so you burst out laughing 

obviously, hinata was rather shocked at your reaction

‘hey! what’s so funny?’

‘di- di- did you just call me a ‘stupidface’?!’ you panted in-between cackles, clutching your stomach to soothe the butterflies

hinata jutted out his bottom lip and folding his arms over his chest, ‘yeah, what about it?’

‘that is so cute!- do it again!’ you demanded, enthusiastically slamming your fist against the desk

‘IT’S NOT CUTE!’ hinata barked, playfully flicking your forehead 

once you caught your breath, you took hinata’s hands and looked him dead in the eyes, ‘you’re fucking adorable, shōyō.’

the hoarseness of your voice making it sound like somewhat of a threat 

‘you’re adorable-er, (y/n).’

‘i know.’

Kōshi Sugawara 

he admires how strong and independent you are/seem 😍

and the fact you don’t go out of your way to suck-up to ppl 

he kinda wants to be like you in that sense but unlike yamaguchi, he accepts that he’s way too much of a people pleaser for that lol

so he sticks to admiring you from afar

then he musters up the courage to ask you out with some chocolate cupcakes; the same kind that you accidentally got on his blazer on the first day of second year :))

and you say yes (╯▽╰ )

also a big part of your relationship is aggressive positivity ✨😡

like if he makes a joke about looking crusty, you’ll promptly respond, ‘shut up, kōshi - you look so hot.’

or if you berate yourself for getting a poor mark on a test, suga will interrupt with no hesitation, ‘fuck off, (y/n), you’re literally so smart and hard working - you’ll probably get 100% on the next test.’

also when he’s around you he switches between canon and fanon suga rapidly 

one second he’s like ‘aww, are you stressed bc of school? i’ll bake you some cookies, baby--’ then you’ll jokingly make a comment about his post-practise B.O and he’ll literally get so defensive

‘WOW I OFFER YOU SOMETHING NICE AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?! STOP BEING SO MEAN TO ME, COMING FOR MY INSECURITES LIKE THAT  - I WAS JUST ABOUT TO GO FOR A SHOWER ANYWAY GEEZ’ ┗|｀O′|┛

ISVBFELIAEA plz he is too much ✋

he just prides himself in smelling like ocean breeze 99% of the time so you really didn’t need to hurt his feelings like that when you caught him lackin c’mon LMAO

‘wait so are we making cookies or not?’ you inquired, stifling a snicker at his little diva moment

‘ofc we are 🥺’  

he’ll probably use red icing on one of the cookies to draw a ‘>:(’ face then hand it to you, saying that he drew you

he’ll also break of bits of his own cookie and feed it to you’re doing something that requires both hands like typing, homework, dishes etc

whether you eat it from his hand happily, decline his offer or bite his fingers off is really up to you 

and over time, he probably picks up on some of your traits too

especially being more straight-forward 

the team will never forget the first time he was chatting about something with the vice principle and ‘sorry, but i don’t remember asking’  fell from his lips 

everyone was shocked :o

tsukishima, tanaka & noya were so impressed tho

and so were you IVBEAOGVRN

‘wow, suga. you wanna be me so bad.’ you gloated, pressing your hand against your chest 

‘GAEIVBSLR leave me alone.’ he growled, toiling over the apology letter he was currently writing to the vice principal

Keiji Akaashi 

he wanted you to be the dark academia to his light academia pfft

it was very much love at first sight btw 

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ soulmates  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the embodiment of opposites attract

he’d write you a poem/love letter to ask you out lol

‘you’re so sappy and lame, akaashi’ you scoffed in attempt to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of your lips as your eyes finally parted from the letter to meet his 

he couldn’t help but chuckle, ‘so is that a no?’

‘-nonono!’ you shook your head rapidly, hastily correcting him, ‘it’s a yes.’

phew 

honestly, he acted all nonchalant on the outside, but akaashi would’ve been devastated if you rejected him

like he constantly tried to remind himself that you would probably say no, i mean he thought you were way out of his league. plus, it didn’t seem as though you were as much of a romantic as him

but fortunately, apart of him stayed hopeful 

now he was cuddled up beside you on a cold winters’ evening, casually drinking is hot cocoa as you both watched a disney movie (❤´艸｀❤)

he’s the type to not even care or retort if you call him stupid or whatever

as long as your context makes it clear that you’re joking 

he’d never call you those names back though ✋

to him, you’re always gonna be ‘love’ or ‘sweetheart’

also, he’s probably equally as sarcastic as you so that’s not an issue 

ngl he probably gets really insecure when you’re hesitant about PDA tho

like he just wants to hold your hand but he doesn’t want to force it upon you and make you uncomfortable 🥺

but also, perhaps you’re too embarrassed by him to kiss him in public 

so please occasionally reassure him that you love him (；′⌒`) that always washes all his worries away 

Yū Nishinoya

it’s literally canon that he likes ppl who show 0 interest in him (kiyoko, tsukki etc)

so it shouldn’t be surprising that he’s all over you after that one time you called him a midget 

to be fair, he had it coming - he stepped on your fkn toe >:(( 

he does everything in his power to impress you and get you to take back what you said 

‘hey, (y/n)!’ he calls out to you in the middle of the bustling lunch hall, ‘could a midget do this?!’ *backflips off the table*

or when he demanded that you come to one of his volleyball games so you could see what he’s capable of and whenever he makes a good receive, he turns to look at you in the stands and winks/ points

or when he actually studies for a test just so he can flaunt his slightly above average grade to you 

‘look, (y/n), i got a 49%!’ he waves a paper in front of your face, which you stare at before lowering your gaze onto your 95%.

but ngl..he really brings out that lil’ bit of sugar in you 

‘well done, noya.’ you choked out feeling your dignity slowly fade in your chest

he’s just so enthusiastic and charming how can you be mean to him 🥺

to his face, at least

as soon as he leaves you beef about him to your friends

‘he is so annoyingly bodacious - audacious! why does he feel the need to show me all of his achievements like i care??? and why does he have to be so cute while doing it???’

‘do you think you maybe have a teeny-tiny crush on him?--’

‘never.’

nishinoya probably asks you out pretty casually like ‘lemme take you bowling this saturday and i can show how good i am at that too!’ he offered with a bright, bold smile

‘sure, whatever.’

‘kay! it’s a date!’

‘wut-’ but before you could question him further, he sped off

nishinoya really likes to fluster and tease you 

you’ll be sitting waiting for him at the park or whatever and he’ll swagger in and shout something like ‘how’s my gorgeous s/o doing today?! i hope you weren’t waiting for me too long!--’

then you’ll have to quickly shush him before everyone with a 7 feet radius is looking at you judgementally 

he also likes to call you the most extra nicknames just to see you blush

‘good morning, my beautiful, divine, radiant god(dess) who i worship every morning of my life!~’ he sung as he waltzed into your classroom to spend lunch with you 

but he only does that bc you are so dismissive of his advances lol

like if you openly adored his kisses and nicknames, he’d probably do them sparingly  

oh and he calls you ‘my hunny bunny’ too - don’t ask why 

Satori Tendō

you gave him your number/snap for a project and he’s one of those ppl that just assumes that y’all are friend now lol

but that wasn’t nessicarily a bad thing bc you thought he was really cool and you were happy that you still got to talk to him even after the project was over 

not that you’d ever admit it tho (╹ڡ╹ )

he’d send you cursed memes at 3AM and you’d reply like ‘mood’  then he’d fall for you 

you’d also have random, deep convos in the middle of the night 

hence he fell for you even harder 

especially bc he basically just shared his whole life story with you 

he’d spill out all his insecurities to you then you’d reply like ‘ok’ then he knew he had to ask you out bc you’re the first person not to have left him on read

so he asked you to meet him in the park and you’d reply ‘no lol  🖕 ‘ 

then he’d just smile at his phone like ‘wow, they’re so in love with me’

he’s just so used to his friends being mean to him jokingly that he can’t even tell if you’re being serious or not

so he goes to the park at the time he put forward, and ofc you’re there even though you said no bc you didn’t want tendō to show up for nothing 🥺

he was ecstatic that you were there and he probably brought you an energy drink or lollipop then asked you out

and ofc you said yes

i mean- you had kinda developed a soft spot for the poor guy 

you’d let him get away with certain things that others couldn’t around you 

for instance, you’d let him borrow your pencils/pens despite usually not allowing others to get ahold of your stuff

but that was just coz like- he’s your trustworthy bf- not some random classmate who had no reason or motive to be kind enough to return your pencils 

also, you’d let him cut in front of you in the lunch line and he did the same for you

oh and please bully anyone who makes fun of him 🙏

[cotccotc]

SKZ + a ftm s/o !!

 ◌ ftm (female-to-male) refers to a transgender person who was assigned female at birth, but identifies as male. these people are awesome, lovely, brave, & valid !! (yes that’s part of the official definition !!!! look it up <3)

part of my eight as fate event !! ( requested by @lixsmullet​ ♡ )

genre/s: fluff, skz x ftm reader

warning/s: mentions of dysphoria, mentions of periods, one very brief implication of transphobia (NOT IN REFERENCE TO THE MEMBERS DW), use of various pet names, swearing, my dumb formatting and commentary uwu

wc: ~1.5k

a/n: i hope i did this req justice !!! i made sure to do a lot of research on topics that might come up in this situation so i hope everything is accurate, but also inclusive for multiple types of people within the ftm umbrella. the descriptions might not be too deep but pls know they were written with a lot of care. OH ALSO i included potential pet names they might use !! i really really hope y’all enjoy this :) lmk what u think !!

◌ CHAN

chan’s known for putting other people’s needs before his own, and this is no exception.

he’d be super giving !!! would buy you “world’s best boyfriend” mugs and shit !!! it’s cringe but you love him so it’s fine !!!

more on top of your doctors appointments or meds than you are tbh

boy oh boy… if you take/decide to start taking testosterone……

LOOK OUT HERE COMES THE T POLICE KJDF

he just wants to do everything he can to help you !!!!! whether it means literally helping you stay on top of things and being your at-home (emotional) therapist, or giving you space.

i feel like he’s very good at detecting how a person feels based on their face or body language, so he’d always be on the lookout in case you might be feeling off or dysphoric.

and, as much as it might pain him, he’d give you as much time/space as you need. once again, he has your best interest in mind 24/7 !!! he just loves you so much, you know? 🥺

potential pet names (as long as you’re ok with them !! that goes for each member.): babyboy (we saw this one coming), foxy/sexy (mostly sarcastic but also… True), sunshine

◌ MINHO

a thing that i personally love to imagine: minho introducing you to people as his boyfriend

if anybody ever gives either of you a questioning look afterward (either intentionally or not) he wouldn’t waver at all !!! he’d just stand there and keep smiling. because you’re his boyfriend, duh

constantly reminds you how strong you are !! how super tough and cool you are !!! because it’s true !!!!!!!

i feel like i always make him sound like the ceo of Boyfriend Bootcamp in my reactions but i MEAN???

for example, if you’re ever feeling down (for whatever reason. whether it applies to you being trans or not) he’d be like “MAN UP !!! YOU’RE A WARRIOR !!!! ……. a cute one <3333 bUT A STRONG ONE !!!!!!”

in general, i definitely see him as the type of person who’ll just grab your hand or hold you a little closer in situations where he thinks you might feel uncomfortable, and even if he doesn’t directly acknowledge it, you know there’s a lot of love and care behind the gesture.

also… you’re sad? here, hold a cat.

potential pet names: stud (as a joke.. but it stuck), anything that starts with “my” (like my boy, my baby, my love, etc.)

◌ CHANGBIN

ok listen

i’m not calling changbin lazy

HOWEVER

he will most definitely try and make you do “manly” things for him when he doesn’t feel like it- SJDJJ

imagine his raspy, tough, yet adorably whiny voice being all:

“BAAAABE…. BABYYYYYY….. come lift this fOR MEEEEEEEE”

ESPECIALLYYYY if you’re taller than him oh my Lord

BUT HE’D DENY IT AT ALL COSTS !!!

changbin, pointing to an object on a tall shelf: “BABE can you get this for me? you’re so strong you can do it <3333”

you: “short ass-”

changbin: “hEY”

ALSO if you menstruate, i personally believe that he would be very comforting to have around during that time !!!!! just chillin on the couch !!!!!! vibin !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

your very own personal heating pad <33 jksjfd

potential pet names: babe, bunny, hot stuff (sometimes used for moments of sarcasm !!! there are lots of those..)

◌ HYUNJIN

he’s very sweet and loving with you, which never changes despite anything you might be going through. like ,,,ever.

i can see him being especially sweet and helpful for someone who doesn’t want to or can’t surgically transition !!!!

would do everything he could to emphasize the fact that you’re his favorite boy !!!!

whether it’s through activities, pet names, playful jokes, etc., he always wants to remind you how manly and lovely you are !! lolll

i present to you a thought that just popped up in my head and Will Not Leave:

you might normally be the little spoon, but if you ever feel a bit off about your body or just don’t want to be held, THIS BOY WILL GET CURLED UP IN A LITTLE SPOON POSITION FOR YOU !! SO VERY FAST !!!

(is it also an excuse for him to be the little spoon? yeah maybe it is-)

potential pet names: hubby (regardless of whether or not you’re married sjdsdf), prince, things that start with “my”

◌ JISUNG

asks lots of questions !!!!!!! whenever he’s not sure how to proceed with something or has any general questions about being trans or how to support you, he’ll be completely transparent with you about it.

even though it makes him a lil embarrassed 🥺🥺

will overuse the terms “dude” and “bro” just to make you laugh… but you both know there’s a hidden underlayer of validation there

loves cheering you up when you’re not feeling your best !!!

also ,,,,,,Youtube Research Enthusiast

“hey y/n check this out! let’s try it :D” and it’s a two minute video about how to naturally lower your voice

and you go along with it because a.) he’s cute for suggesting it, b.) it could actually be useful, and c.) he’ll look cute stretching his neck for a few minutes and it would be a valuable use of your time to watch him do it <3 jsjdfh

oh also !!!! we know he’s just Like This anyways, but he will indeed take every chance he gets to kiss random parts of your body like your hands, shoulders, the tip of your nose, and anything else you’re comfy with :) he just likes 2 smooch, what can i say?

potential pet names: anything silly !! bubba, baby/babycakes, good lookin’, etc.

◌ FELIX

this is somewhat similar to what i’d suggested in my nonbinary coming out reaction, but i feel like he’d take a lot of care to make you feel more confident in yourself !!!

especially when it comes to your appearance !!!!! if you ever decide to try out a new hairstyle, different clothing, etc., he’d HYPE YOU UPPPPP omg

you: *exists*

felix: *silly smirk* “my handsome boy.. hehe” 🥺

bakes for u !!!!!!! will come over asap with freshly baked cookies if he even senses you might not be feeling your best !!!!!!!!!!!!!

we all know he’s a real cuddlebug, but since you’ve explained dysphoria to him (to the best of your ability), it’s very important to him that he doesn’t overstep with the physical affection

he might also suggest you use a code word or gesture to signify if it’s ok for him to get all close and cuddly with you !! he knows you have your off days, and the last thing he wants to do is emphasize your insecurities.

he loves you more than anything, and he just wants to see you smile :)

potential pet names: handsome, love, sweets (bc ya know,,, brownie boy things <3)

◌ SEUNGMIN

would regularly spend hours and hours doing research on trans rights, different forms of transitioning, other people’s perspectives (both in his position and yours), etc

honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if he posted some questions on a website like reddit or quora or something from time to time SJDK (but eventually he’d be much more comfortable asking you directly, especially since he knows not every person is the same)

he really just wants to make sure he understands how you feel to the best of his ability in order to best care for you !!!

VERY VERY diligent if he has to adjust to new pronouns. would practice that shit like it’s his JOB.

i think he’d just be very scared of screwing something up, which you might have to console him about from time to time.

you know he’s trying his best to a.) not make this about himself and b.) do everything in his power to support you

sorta similarly to changbin, i think he’d be nice to have around if you’re ever on your period !! overall, this boy would do his RESEARCH

potential pet names: baby, mister (for some playful sarcasm), bear (or baby bear, honey bear, etc.)

◌ JEONGIN

if you’re ever feeling dysphoric, depressed, anxious, or generally not the best, he will do WHATEVER IT TAKES to cheer you up.

you: :(

jeongin: “ok fine you have permission to poke my cheeks all day”

you: :D

jeongin: :D

is also very similar to changbin !!!!! he’ll very dramatically give up on a task that requires even the slightest bit of manliness just so you can do it for him…. because he’s laz- i mean thoughtful <33

ok picture something with me besties (and this is quite random so bear with me):

he buys you cologne. cute !! very sweet of him yes <3 …...but the Backstory-

he had No idea what kind to get, so he went to the store and tried on like 10 different kinds until he realized he could just swatch them on a piece of paper so now he’s covered in cologne and he buys the one he thought was his favorite but he comes home to realize it was the WRONG ONE so he has to go back to the store and test them all again until he finds the one

..all just so he could surprise you & make you feel more masculine :’)

anyways LONG STORY SHORT: innie best boy :D

potential pet names: bun (in reference to bread, of course. you must match.), handsome, sexy (BUT ONLY IF YOU SAY IT RIGHT BACK !!!!!! sexy loaf boyfriends aw <3)

tags: @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @kisskissbanggang, @mr-jisung-main, @childofthecosmos, @kpopscape, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @sunshine-skz, @vera-liscious, @thatrandomoneinthecorner, @cyberskz​, @seungminsaidsta, @somethingrandomworld, @ethan806 ( join my tag list !! )

©️ cotccotc 2021 ~ all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[littleoddwriter]

Issues with Reader Fics

Okay, I'm probably going to be a bit controversial here. Yet, I'm asking you to hear us out, please. Fanfic writers, specifically those who write "x Reader" fics, please read this. My dear friend Jack has already made a post, where I and others have contributed our experiences and feelings towards certain issues with these fics. Those issues still prevail and therefore I've decided to make my own post, which is more of a PSA, I think. Anyway. You can and should read Jack's (@mlmxreader) post here, please. It is long, yes, but it is extremely important and will say a lot of things we will not talk about here again. Now, what this is mostly about is the tagging of those fics. Every single time, we (men and non-binary people) come across Reader fics and they're tagged with just "Reader", so, naturally we assume they'll be gender neutral then. Well, they basically never fucking are. Every time, in the first few sentences or in later paragraphs something like "baby girl, girlfriend, wife, she/her" will come up and it is frustrating, can be triggering (for trans people, like myself, especially because it can cause dysphoria), and is honestly just very excluding and rude. By doing that, you show us that you do not consider anyone but women to read those fics. Even though that isn't the case. Men who like men exist and we read fics. And we want to be able to read some that don't make us feel bad or excluded. We're not asking you to suddenly write Male!Reader fics. We're asking you to tag properly. If your reader is female, tag it as "Female!Reader" or "Fem!Reader". It doesn't take more than two seconds to do that. So, please for the love of everything good, take those two seconds and type in that one word, even the abbreviation is enough. But tag it! Please! Also, please, stop tagging "male reader" or "gender neutral reader" when it's a female reader. You won't get more notes from it. All it does is clog the tags and push down fics that are actually targeted towards those groups. So, don't do that, please, thank you. One thing I personally wanted to ask actually. Why do women read "Male!Reader" fics? This is a genuine question. Why do you, if you're a woman, read those fics? They aren't targeted at you, and frankly, I don't understand it. If I were cis and not dysphoric, I still wouldn't read "Fem!Reader" fics. They aren't for me, and I wouldn't be interested in it, even if those were the only fics for a certain character. So, if anyone could answer me this, genuinely, then I'd actually appreciate that a lot, I'm truly just curious, as I have noticed women reading my "Male!Reader" fics, too. Which is cool, as we've said, you may interact, as long as you're not creepy or fetishistic, but I still don't understand why you would read that in the first place. Now, onto what my two wonderful friends have said, when I asked them if they had anything to add to this issue, or perhaps overall, still: @iscariot-rising said, "It's just disrespectful for writers and readers alike to assume that everyone reading their fanfics is inherently female, to the point where for some it has become the standard that any fic has female reader - leading to writers not tagging their fics as female readers or mentioning in their descriptions that reader is female, instead only titeling it as "character x reader", before then three sentences in referring to reader as some sort of female term. This isn't just rude, it can also be triggering for people or make them dysphoric, if not just plain uncomfortable. Fandom spaces are something that is shared across all genders and sexualities and it is only courteous to respect this and tag your fics accordingly, since it doesn't take a long time and saves a lot of trouble for readers." And you know what? He is absolutely right and he should say it. You need to listen to us, please. @mlmxreader said a lot, too. For example, he's mentioned that there is a reluctance to even write Gender Neutral Reader fics, which is true. Even though it would be much easier, to be perfectly honest. Yet, people seem not to do it. Do y'all not want people of different genders to enjoy your fics without feeling excluded? He also said, "oh! yeah! there's also the whole thing about lingerie, too, like putting men in women's lingerie and talkin about panties and stuff, which comes off as extremely fetishising (when it's not written by mlm) as well as just... really gross bc like that stuff can trigger dysphoria and half the time it's not even tagged? Like it wouldn't be so bad if y'all tagged it; on top of that, there's also the whole fact that they assume that all mlm relationships revolve around sex and that that's all that matters. But then also using (m/n) standing for "male name" instead of (y/n), like, what the FUCK is up with that?? /gen" Again, he is absolutely right. Tag your shit, please. I know it can be tiring to pick out everything relevant, but trust me; you'll do a lot of people a big fucking favour when you tag your stuff properly. And frankly, I agree with him. I don't understand the whole '(m/n)' thing because if we're men, our names are automatically male because, well, we're male. It doesn't really make sense. That might just be a thing that personally bugs us, though, I honestly don't know. TLDR; Tag your fics properly, be respectful, don't assume everyone is female and therefore exclude everyone who isn't, just say (y/n)???, and yeah, that's basically it. Just be more considerate, please! That was it. I don't mean to personally attack anybody, but if you do feel attacked, that probably means that you're guilty of doing something I've listed here, and perhaps should consider changing that. I also wanna note that if you consider sending me threats or hate of any kind, I will delete it and not engage with it. If your first response to this post is something rude and hateful, you should take a step back and reconsider why you're about to do something so senseless. Does it help you in any way? No, it doesn't. So, what's the point, other than acting like a complete dick? Anyway, have a lovely morning/day/night; cheers!

[brekkerism]

BASIC INSTINCT (Part 1 - A Spencer Reid Series)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: (Y/N) has recently joined the bau through non conventional and rather privileged means. Couple that with a dark and troubled past, all she really wants is a fresh start. What she didn’t predict getting in her way of that, was one Special Agent Dr Spencer Reid. She thinks it’s hopeless and he’ll hate her forever. That is, until she sees Dr Reid on a rather...unusual place.

A/n: I kinda can’t believe this is my first Spencer Reid/Criminal minds fic. I’ve been obsessed for so long but I never got the courage to post anything. Well, we’ll see how this one goes. I really do hope all of you enjoy this, since I’m planning to make it multi chapters and I’m too in love to abandon it! Forgive me for not giving y’all the smut right away but good things come to those who are patient! And also huge thanks to @imagining-in-the-margins for being such a wonderful human and helping me beta this first one. Shout out to all the lovely people in the discord for encouraging me enough to write this. And also for my sweet liv, bc if she didn’t like this I would def not have posted.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Word count: 2320

Rating: R-no actual hard smut. For now.

Content warning: 12+ years age gap, description of bdsm scenes and play, swear words, brief fingering

*********

Since the first day I stepped in the bau, I knew Dr.Spencer Reid would not like me one bit.

Call it a gut feeling, a hunch, or maybe my justified pessimism.

 I knew the moment my dad told me, fresh out of the academy and not even slightly experienced at 24 years old, that I ‘mysteriously’ got a generous offer for a job with one of the best teams the FBI had to offer, that I wasn’t going to be liked by a lot of people. Because it wasn’t a mystery how I got the position. It was actually really plain and simple, and could be boiled down to one word:

Nepotism

I didn’t ask for it; I didn’t want it (no matter how much I actually wanted the position, but by my earning it on my own merits), but I completely understood something like this was likely to happen. I knew it the moment I moved back home and decided that the only thing worthwhile I really wanted to do was join the FBI. My dad was a good guy who was just trying to help me, his intentions were just a little misguided. It happens.

What doesn’t ‘just’ happen is that my dad is the deputy director of the FBI. His helping me was ‘making calls’ and ‘pulling strings’, which instantly gives my peers every reason to doubt every achievement I have.

But I was completely ready for it.  

What I wasn’t ready for is for everyone on the team to be normal and so welcoming to me, like I was any other agent. It was everything I wanted.

Well, everyone did that except him. I couldn’t figure it out why, but from the first minute he turned those eyes towards me, looking me up and down but never quite reaching my eyes, I could feel the scrutiny under the stare. Almost like he was saying “Really? This is it?”.

But with a blink it was gone, and he turned away from me and put his attention to the book in his hand so fast I almost thought I imagined the whole thing.

But I knew, I knew I saw it. And I knew that even if I didn’t want it, my body and brain would spend days trying to make him acknowledge me again, to look me up and down again, to try and prove to him what I’ve been trying to prove to everyone:

I deserved to be there. I could earn it by myself. I just need the chance to do it.

And so, my journey to try to not only be useful but a valuable agent, someone he would have to notice began.

 And it was shit.

Everyone was so willing not only to teach me, but to listen to my input.

Luke always had my back, both of us being the newbies in the team. JJ and Tara were always open to listening to theories, doubts and rambling, besides being totally badass inspirations. Penelope always had a eager and friendly attitude that could comfort me immediately, and she welcomed me with open arms. Emily and Rossi were patient, while also pushing me to be so much better, and being the best mentors they could be.

None of them even seemed to have even a passing thought of giving me special treatment or harsher judgment. It was almost perfect.

If it wasn’t for Special Fucking Agent Doctor Reid. He wouldn’t even be an asshole towards me, oh no, It was much, much worse. He ignored me.

He was almost happy to pretend I didn’t even exist. Of course there were situations that he couldn’t avoid socializing, as minimal as it was, but it was like he was talking to a wall. He looked at me like he was surprised that I was even there. He wouldn’t acknowledge me unless he was made to. He wouldn’t even correct me when I was wrong. At this point I was sure that I could be screaming bloody murder at him and he wouldn’t take his eyes off whatever he was doing.

It was the most frustrating and irritating thing that has ever happened to me. It made my blood boil over. It made me cry with sorrow.

And I couldn’t even figure out why. I didn’t know what it was that made me crazy because Spencer Reid wouldn’t look my way.

So I did what every angry and frustrated normal young adult does.

I went to a sex dungeon to drink my mixed feelings away and watch BDSM scenes. Duh.

Even though I wasn’t going there to play, and I thought I would never be able to play again, it was still a safe place for me. A place where I could see people that once knew the real me and provided a place free of any judgement. People who didn’t know who I was outside of those walls, who thought of me as just another person in that safe and different little world.

It also helped that watching, as much as it wasn’t my preference before, was the only thing that could properly get me off these days. And after everything, I thought I still deserved the ability to enjoy some parts of it.

And so, after saying my goodbyes to Pen, JJ amd Emily, and finding flimsy excuses not to join them at the bar for Friday drinks, I hopped the elevator, wondering how long would it take me to get properly dressed and drive across town, and if I was going to be able to call more of my old friends.

But all my happy thoughts of getting to immerse myself on a world I still loved were immediately clouded when a hand stopped the elevator and went in with me. His hand.

Great, just the perfect ending to an shitty day. A awkward elevator ride with Spencer Reid. And as always, he didn’t bother to acknowledge me, even though it was just the two of us riding down.

I was trying so hard to be in a good mood; to ignore the shitty end to a shittier case and go somewhere where I could try to be happy. But I just had to be met with his silence, his awkwardness, his existence in general. I didn’t want to feel like that today. So before I could stop myself, I did something stupid

 “So, what are your plans for the weekend, Doctor?”

Stupid. Stupid, stupid. Like he would voluntarily participate in small talk with me, something he already didn’t like, with someone he didn’t even bother to not like.

 “I think I’m going to go to a party with a friend today.”

Now that took me by surprise. No short replies? No one syllable answers? He actually told me something out of his own free will? He engaged in small talk?!

 “O-oh? I didn’t know you were one for partying... like, at all. Which friend are you going with? Do I know him?”

Talk to me. Keep engaging in small talk, please.

 “You don’t really know me well enough to judge if I am one for partying or not, now, do you? And you definitely wouldn’t know her. I don’t only hang out with people on our team, contrary to popular belief.”

Well that was extremely uncalled for. And rude. I thought that it was the first time he ever referred to me as part of the team, but that was an small detail to analyze later.

 “No need to be defensive or rude, I was just asking.”

 “Well, don’t.”

He was back to having that stupid blank expression on his face, back to not dignifying me with a proper answer, and that just wouldn’t do, would it?

I had a response. I had an excellent, spectacular comeback to use, but before I could actually defend myself in any way, the elevator dinged open. He couldn’t get out fast enough.

It was infuriating. So I did the only reasonable thing:

I followed him to his car to give him a piece of my mind.

Because of those immensely long legs, he almost got there quick enough to drive away and avoid me, but I would not let my stubby short legs get in the way.

I got my hand in before he could close his door, much like he did with the elevator. He still refused to look up at me but, the cheer disbelief and confusion on his face was enough of a response. Can’t ignore me now, asshole.

“You know, the only reason I don’t know anything about you, is because you pretend like I don’t exist. So don’t be needlessly rude to me. It’s better to keep not saying anything at all.”

And there it was. It was just tip of the iceberg, but at least I acknowledged it. I could actually feel a smirk forming on my face.

“Remove your hand please.”

And he finally looked up at me. All the disbelief and annoyance on his face were gone, replaced by that utterly bored and blank stare.

I actually wanted to scream. How was this the same guy that couldn’t stop talking and rambling enthusiastically about any and everything to anyone, the same person who had a perfect smile and warmth on his eyes for everyone else. How.

It was too frustrating. So I stepped back, removing my hand from his car door and walking towards my own car. It was better to just let it end already so I can wallow in my humiliation over this failed attempt at confrontation.

It almost put me in a bad enough mood that I didn’t want to go to the ‘club,’ but I had already promised Amara, who was not only one of my best friends but also happened to be dating that particular BDSM dungeon’s Mistress. There was no getting out even if I wanted to.

 And I didn’t really want to.

 ****

 A hour and dress change later, I was ready to go. This was absolutely nothing like the old outfits I used to wear for this events, but then again, I wasn’t the same girl. Not entirely.

So I opted for a silky black dress with a cowl neck and the best heels I had. It was sexy enough for a night of normal clubbing, but rather tame for a night at a dungeon. It was exactly what I wanted. It was less likely in that type of dungeon for anybody to approach or proposition me if I didn’t look experienced and in my element.

Even if I secretly was.

So I got ready, took my time to properly breathe, and left everything that wasn’t this night or positive thoughts behind the locked door of the apartment. I could come back to them later.

Right now, I was going to be happy and have fun.

 *****

I was not having fun anymore. It was unfortunate, and I felt like somehow that this had to be the bad mood I was in from a particular encounter earlier. I just couldn’t find anything that excited me the way I wanted it to. I had made the rounds with Amara, and she had showed me all of the new rooms and new toys before every space got occupied with busy couples and groups.

It was beyond fun exploring before the spaces were being actually used, and imagining what each person would get out of those rooms. It was a pleasant and happy feeling.

But soon enough the dungeon got filled with more and more people, and each room was occupied and used. Most were open for all that wanted to watch, but each scene I passed failed to get my attention. It was especially more daunting and lonely when Amara left to put on a show with her girlfriend in the main room.

And as pretty and wonderful as they looked, I just didn’t feel like watching a couple as in love as Amara and Celeste performing tonight. It was just... a little too much for me. After everything, most loving was.

No, what I was looking for was not that. I was looking for the thing I used to crave. The thing that used to keep me going at all times of the day.

I was looking for fucking. Not couples making love, not couples having sex, not pet play, not elaborate scenes or people using toys so strange and complicated I couldn’t make out what was what.

I was looking for someone completely fucking dominating their partner.

It shouldn’t be impossible to find. Not on a Friday night, and not in a club this good.

And I did. I finally found it.

The dom had his back to the audience and the door with the little window I was watching through. He was turned toward his sub standing on the side while she spread her legs on the bed, her hands tied up to the headboard, showing her pussy to the audience along the wall. It was the perfect scene for me. In fact, too perfect.

She even looked a little like me, in fact. Same build, similar hair. It got me even more excited to watch this through. I took a deep breath and finally opened the door. Stepping in, I leaned against the door, having a direct view to the bed.

And god did I want to watch.

The dom still had his back to us,but I wasn’t watching him. Rather, I watched the girl’s cunt and how he was fingering it, not saying anything for her or us yet.

He has really nice hands.

Really, really nice. In fact I don’t think I’ve seen such nice hands since –

Not the time!

The girls face looked rather blissful, and I imagined three of those pretty and long fingers should be doing just the trick for her.

But then she did something that displeased him.

She moaned. Loudly.

The sound was immediately followed by a sharp slap in her face.

Fuck, that made me wet.

But before I could even entertain the idea of getting my hands inside my panties, the dom spoke.

He spoke in a voice I almost never heard directed towards me, but could pick out in any crowd.

He spoke in the voice of the man that made me so mad I almost didn’t come to the club in the first place.

“Are my fingers inside you too much? Cause I’ll fucking stop if you can’t obey and stay quiet.”

 And I froze. I froze and panicked and had to stop myself from screaming by bringing a hand up to my  mouth.

 Because that was Spencer Reid, in a BDSM dungeon, dominating a girl right in front of me.

Taglist: @imagining-in-the-margins @spencer-reid-in-a-pool @gretaamyk @prettyricky187 @sunlight-moonrise @fanficlibrary82 @blazinvixen @samanddeanstolethetardis221b @httpnxtt @reidetic @hyper-fxation @blushingspencer @reidlusts @wishingwellwriting @redbullchick

I feel like I missed a lot of peeps but please know I’m still thankful ma loves

[the-hopeless-haze]

Oh, My Precious Whore

A/N: didn’t really think I’d ever be posting fic on here again… but I am tired and need a distraction so… have this as a treat

Pairing: Claire Underwood x f!reader, implied Duncan Shepherd x f!reader

CW: derogatory pet names, implied smut (will not occur in full until the next part)

Description: idk this is just pure filth bc there’s a severe lack of f!reader fic and… Robin Wright is hot af. Also had to throw in some Duncan in there bc I love Cody Fern

Maybe you should feel worse right now about what you’re doing, but you don’t.

You, at the very least, should feel scared. The Underwoods, or well, Underwood... she was a powerful woman and if you stepped a millimeter out of place your life was likely in danger. Or so they said. Your in-laws were wary of her, you know, but she was wary of them, too. You think. She’s a difficult woman to read.

The rumors concerning the crimes her late husband supposedly committed are lengthy and convoluted, but you suspect they hold some truth to them. Most rumors usually aren’t based totally in fiction. Her husband was truly a ruthless motherfucker. Claire... Claire doesn’t seem to be ruthless. Nor does she seem to be what you would describe as a motherfucker.

No, she’s a cold hearted bitch. A bitter, sociopathic cunt.

But you never wanted what was good for you.

Sometimes, you swear you love Duncan and you wish it was easier to convince yourself. He a good husband, all things considered. Perhaps a little too focused on work, but... he treats you well to make up for it. He is loyal to a fault, if anyone ever was. You met him through a friend, and though it makes you feel guilty you used him in a vain attempt to get closer to Annette.

But Annette didn’t swing your way, as she told you in not so many words. Or, rather, she said, “Just be a good pet and marry my son. You on his arm will do well for everyone all around. Your dalliances on the side are no one’s business as long as you keep them secret enough that not even Duncan finds out.”

So you agreed, and accepted his proposal you figured she no doubt hounded him into. It’s not so much that you don’t like men, you do, and Duncan is such an attractive man, and he’s a thorough lover... it’s just you suppose you have a preference for women. Older women. You used to joke in high school that you wanted to be a high-end escort for rich older women getting away from their CEO husbands for the weekend.

But your parents would have never approved of that plan. So you went to law school instead. Which was fine. You make decent money without Duncan, but with him you’re somewhat of a young, hot power couple. You’re not really interested in policy the way his family is - you just like ingratiating yourself amongst these people with influence. You get off on brushing shoulders with the powerful. Parties don’t mean much to you. Everyone is truly an evil son of a bitch, no matter what they say when the cameras are on. No one cares about progress, not unless it’s self-serving.

The first time you met Claire, you thought you might die. She barely gave Duncan a second glance but you? She stood and chatted with you about your latest case your firm had taken - how she knew about it among all the other things on her mind, you don’t know - but it was a pleasant conversation, all things considered. You know her and Annette used to be close. You wonder how much Claire does know about you.

You know you can’t trust her. At all.

But after that incident, Duncan grinned and shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to give credence to those rumors. She might have it out for you.”

“Rumors?” You asked, panicking already. Did he know?

“That Claire is a lesbian. It’s been floating around some circles, that that’s why she wasn’t truly upset at her husband’s death, that that’s why she’s pushing so hard for female rights. It’s interesting. It is the first time I met her, but having done so it wouldn’t entirely surprise me.”

You can tell. That woman probably isn’t a lesbian, or if she is, she’s very good at utilizing her charm to make it seem as though she’s not. If anything, you’d peg her as asexual. She uses sex as a weapon. Fair enough. You’ve seen even weaker women feel the need to use it.

You wonder if she’s ever had sex purely for herself and not for manipulation purposes.

You wonder if she could even do that. You reckon you don’t really care if you found out the hard way.

It’s a few weeks later that you receive a message stating the President required your audience. And you know you should tell Annette, or Duncan at the very least, but you don’t. You know you shouldn’t show up at all. But Annette said to keep your dalliances secret. So secret they will stay.

“How loyal are you to the Shepherds?” Claire asks when you arrive. Straight to the point. Good.

“As loyal as I have to appear,” you tell her.

Claire smiles a little. “Why did you marry Duncan? He doesn’t seem quite your type.”

“And what do you presume my type is?”

“Perhaps more feminine. Older.”

“Mm. And what is your type, Ms President?”

“Why did you marry him? Did Annette threaten to out you?” she repeats.

“Not in so many words,” you say.

“Hmm. Interesting. He has no idea, I presume?”

“Why did you call me here?” you ask, your anxiety getting the better of you.

“I need information on the Shepherds. And I believe I have something you’d want in return.”

Your head starts spinning, but no, spinning is an understatement. It’s fucking doing somersaults. You cannot believe what she’s proposing.

“You want to prostitute yourself to me for information?”

And Claire does the last thing you ever expected the bitch to do. She walks across the room and slaps you across the face. Hard enough to sting, but not as hard as you bet she could. You feel the cold metal of her wedding ring press against your cheek as she grabs your chin, her cold blue eyes piercing through to your soul. “Don’t you dare fucking accuse the president of the United States of debasement, and don’t ever assume you have the upper hand.”

“Claire—“

“Are we on first name basis, slut?” she asks, her hand slithering down to your throat. Holy shit, you think. This bitch might actually fucking kill me. You think you’d care more if this wasn’t possibly the hottest thing that ever happened to you. “I didn’t think so. Now. What are your loyalties? Who are you closest to?”

“Duncan, obviously. Annette lets her guard down around me because she likes that I think she’s hot, but she still doesn’t like me. Bill and I don’t get along.”

“Interesting. How much does Duncan know?”

“I know more than Duncan.”

“Really, now? Are you just saying that? Because if you don’t prove to be useful...”

“What? You’ll kill me?”

Claire laughs. “No, you’re much more fun to me alive. But tell me… do you know where Duncan came from?”

“I mean, I truly don’t know how Annette’s cunt could birth anything, given how much of a bitch she is, but…”

Claire smiles. “Yes. Much more fun alive. Duncan is not her child.”

“Well, that’s a relief I don’t have any chance of keeping the Shepherd bloodline alive,” you snicker. “Where did he come from, then?”

“I’ll tell you… in time. But you have to tell him, too. In front of Annette and Bill. I want them all to know.”

“They’ll skin me alive if they knew I was here.”

“Do you want to fuck me or not? These are my terms.”

“So that is why I’m here?”

She only smirks at you, the wrinkles around her blue eyes crinkling as she does. “Your attraction to me is far more interesting than... well, men are pigs, right? I’m sure you are well aware. But you, you look at me like you want to fuck me, sure, but you also know your place. You respect me, even if you try to talk back. Men don’t know any better.”

“Have you ever slept with a woman before?”

She only smiles. “Does it matter?”

“Just wanted to know if there was credence to the rumors.”

“Rumors? You’re quite bold. I’m the one with my hand...wrapped around your throat.”

“It’d be pretty messy for you if you killed me right now,” you retort, wincing and rubbing your legs together as she increases the pressure on your neck.

“You’ll learn not to talk back, whore. To think you’re a married woman...”

“Yeah? Did you hold your marriage sacrosanct?”

There’s that smile again. She’s beautiful, ethereal, but there’s something so inhumane about the way her lips move upward to smirk at you. Maybe you should learn to shut your mouth, but you always were a brat. Besides, it’s more fun this way.

“I did.”

“Liar,” you accuse, smirking at her as you do, and she lets go of your throat and before you can miss the feeling too much she slaps your face again, the right cheek this time, much harder than the first time. You let out a startled, strangled moan on impulse, stumbling back a little against the wall.

“Oh, did that hurt?” she coos at you condescendingly, fixing a piece of your hair that fell out of place as you stand back up, pressing your back flat against the wall for stability. Claire crosses her arms and stands directly in front of you.

“I can take it. I can take more than that,” you say boldly.

“Oh? What else do you like, slut?”

“You name it, I’m game.”

“Anything? Handcuffs? Whips? Knives?”

You nod at everything she comes up with. Jesus, you would let this woman carve out your heart if she wanted it.

“If I make you bleed?”

“Better.”

“Interesting. Does Duncan play these little games with you?”

You laugh. “No.”

“You only want a woman to do these things to you?”

“Precisely. Are you kinky, Madam President?”

“Whatever my partner requires... I make certain I provide.”

“But what do you want?”

“I’m a hard woman to please.”

“Oh. Is that the kind way of saying Frank wasn’t good in bed?” you ask, feigning sympathy. She only smirks again. “I’m surprised you didn’t slap me for that. He must have really been awful.”

“You think you could do better?”

“Women do everything better,” you laugh, earning perhaps the only genuine smile you’ve gotten from this woman the whole time. “That’s why I wanted to know if you’ve been with a woman...”

“No. But I’ve thought about it. Never had a woman as interested as you.”

“I find that very hard to believe. Maybe you just never noticed. What gave it away?” You’re aching for her to touch you again, give you anything, even pain, but she stands still in front of you.

“I can just tell. Besides, I was interested to meet you. You’re the Shepherd’s weak link. I knew Annette didn’t vet you carefully enough.”

“Are you saying me being gay is an issue?”

“Are you so naive to think it wouldn’t be, given the state of this country?” she retorts. “But that’s not all. I can tell you don’t like them. I could tell you were easy... on more than one account.”

You roll your eyes. “I fucking hate Bill. I mean it’s awful to say, he’s not doing well physically, but he’s just made life a living hell for me.”

“Why?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

“I don’t know. Maybe he hates gay people. Maybe he hates women. Both. Don’t know.”

“So everyone knows but Duncan? Funny how he’s kept out of all the good family secrets that concern him.”

You sigh. “See, sexuality’s a funny thing. I like Duncan. I do. And sometimes sex with him is good if not great. He’s a good partner. But I just prefer women.”

“Must be nice to have it figured out. Your generation did have it easier.”

You look at her questioningly. You never thought someone like her was human enough to struggle with such a thing, but perhaps that’s an unfair assessment.

Or she’s playing you.

Still. She’d have to be quite a good player - not that you should underestimate her skill - to talk about something as personal as her struggles with sexuality. Straight people just don’t get it. Would she really be this easily well versed if it was a game?

“There’s still a long ways to go,” you say.

“I intend to rectify that.”

“Of course you do.”

Her eyes narrow at you and she tilts her head. “Do you think I should be doing better?”

“Yeah. Come out, for starters.”

“Says the woman in a sham marriage.”

“It’s not a sham. I love Duncan,” you protest.

“Then why are you here, selling out his family just for a chance to fuck me? You’re not much better than I am.”

“I don’t think I’ve told you anything yet. Besides. It’s not his real family… as you say.”

“No. You haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know. But I haven’t fucked you yet either, have I?”

“Touché.”

“Come over here,” she beckons, leaning against the desk and once again it strikes you where you are - the fucking Oval Office. Are you seriously going to have sex in the Oval Office? Conservatives would be disgusted by this (although it wouldn’t be the first time this office was defiled). “Don’t look so scared now. You can’t back out at this point.”

You nod, trying not to look as nervous as you feel and walk the few steps over to her, your legs inches from hers. God, you’re practically dying from the anticipation alone.

“Does Duncan ever tell you how beautiful you are?” She asks. You’re absolutely shellshocked. There’s no trace of sarcasm in her voice.

“Sometimes,” you murmur.

“Just like men to not appreciate what they have.”

“Mm. Frank didn’t appreciate you, Claire? Didn’t make you feel good? I would. If you were my wife I’d make you come every fucking day,” you say, and boldly you decide to punctuate that statement by pressing your lips to hers.

Mistake. Or maybe not, you don’t know.

Her hands tangle in your hair and you feel her stand up, press against you firmly before backing you into the desk, pushing you onto it until your back is flat on the wood, and she’s hovering over you, her lips ghosting yours.

“I’m a hard woman to please,” she reiterates and you realize she never fucking lost her breath while you feel like the wind was knocked out of you. “I’m ambivalent about attention in general. But look at you, whore. You crave it, don’t you? Just want someone to tell you that you’re a good girl... oh, look at you squeeze your thighs together. Are you wet for me, slut?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You ask, spreading your legs slightly for her.

She shakes her head, her straight platinum locks shifting as she does so, brushing against your face. “See? You’re not a good girl. You’re a dirty filthy whore and you just don’t know when to shut that whore mouth or close your fucking legs.”

You stay silent - you’re not sure what to do now. Do you antagonize her, push her further, see if it will rile her up again? Or do you try and kiss her again?

Claire has other ideas. “Beg,” she hisses in your ear. “Get down on your knees and beg for me.”

—- and I am evil and ending it there! Plz let me know if I should continue this!

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part THIRTY

Previous Post Is HERE

This is the last outline post!  But like I said before I’m probably gonna take a run at NaNo with this story this year because of how thoroughly it got out of hand lmao and probably will keep doing smaller art posts and shit at this point.

And again there’s already ideas for a sequel in the works, although that’ll probably trickle in MUCH more slowly for the time being.

Next week I’m probably going to take a break from Tumblr altogether bc of Real Life Stuff and the fact that this project turned So Big.  Maybe.  Possibly.  Don’t take me at my word lmao

This is a text heavy post and I apologize but there was a lot to cover; each section is separated by headers.

Content warning for mention of hanging used as a metaphor.  

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

Astramorus’s Sentencing 

Astramorus is stripped of his rank within Hylia's Church, although he's allowed to keep his home at the sky commune since he and Catena had shared it since before her death and Zelda isn't cruel. She assigns him a Shiekah escort-and-therapist on Impa's recommendation, someone he's not allowed to leave the Sky Temple Commune without until further notice, and Astramorus tells her it's generally much more generous than he expected even considering the help he'd offered.

Link doesn’t go home with him, at Astramorus's insistence.

"Listen to me, Link," he says, touching Link's face gently. "For all that I'd LIKE to undo the last twelve years of our lives, do it better, you're still healing from everything I did wrong."

"Uncle Seren was-" Link starts.

"Giving me the rope with which to hang myself," Astramorus finishes. "I still took it in hand, son. We both need a little distance to start, you to heal and me to sort my own head."

Link frowns at him. "You need to heal too," he says. "You wouldn't have taken that rope if Mama had been here to stop you."

"Probably not," Astramorus agrees. "But that's why her Majesty is assigning someone to follow me around, isn't it?"

[Image Description: Link throws his arms around Astramorus, to his father’s surprise.  When Astramorus hugs him back, looking like he’s ready to collapse into the hug, Link opens one eye and tells him sternly, “Take CARE of yourself, Father, or we’re gonna have WORDS.”  “Mhm,” Astramorus mumbles. End ID.]

(Hilda, it should be noted, tells Astramorus and Link that they’re both welcome to visit Lorule Castle at any time, trying to hide her eagerness until finally admitting; “You both know what having Serenumbra in your head is like.”  And Astramorus and Link agree with that and promise to meet there in a few months, once they’ve had that time to sort themselves out.)

As for Serenumbra, for now Eltani decides to let him “enjoy” some solitude in the Gerudo City prison while she deliberates more thoroughly on what to do with him.  He did quite a lot, after all.

What to do About Ghirahim

Eltani and Zelda Sr discuss what to do about Ghirahim more privately, with Aldway, Impa, and Vaba (Eltani's oldest advisor) there to offer input.

"You say he froze upon being presented with the mere image of his old master," Aldway says. "I'm not sure I trust that."

"It wasn't like-" Zelda starts, then starts over. "He was like a frightened child, darling." She pauses, reevaluates. "Or like a dog expecting to be beaten."

"Like Link?" Aldway asks mildly.

She shakes her head. "Much worse than even that, my dear."

"Even knowing he's half mortal he has trouble stilling his tongue towards me," Eltani notes. "Faced with his former master, he was struck silent."

Vaba speaks up. "You say that Serenumbra called the thing he summoned a god's nightmare, correct?"

"The boy Link saw a figure he couldn't hope to live up to. Your Majesty saw a figure from history you've tried to avoid being since you were her age. Whose nightmare was Demise? Dinravi didn't know his face, and you tell us Ghirahim stepped in the way. Dinravi only faced a copy of Ghirahim's master because he was reflected from Ghirahim's half human heart."

They decide to let him stay.

What Dinravi Would Like to do About Ghirahim

And in the meantime Dinravi and Ghirahim are having their own discussion somewhere else in the castle, partly because Eltani asked Dinravi to keep Ghirahim away from where they're discussing and partly because of course they are, it's been a lot, the last day and a half or so, between Ghirahim saving Dinravi from assassination and Dinravi punching Nightmare Demise in the face. And finding out that Ghirahim is definitely around half human now, there's also that.

There's a bit of an awkward silence, at first. It's so, so much. Ghirahim is stealing a lot of glances and Dinravi seems to be collecting himself.

And then Dinravi asks: "Can I kiss you?"

Ghirahim stares at him for a moment, eyes wide, mouth small in surprise, bright red, and then he smiles a little and looks away and says "You still don't... my prince, you don't need to ask PERMISSION to do whatever you PLEASE with me."

Dinravi goes quiet. "... Is that how it was with him? Demise?" he asks. His face is gentle and open, nonjudgmental, but Ghirahim sputters.

"Of course it was," he says, "is there a problem with that?"

Dinravi studies him. "Apparently there is," he says. "Because you're shaking."

Ghirahim jolts in horror and stares at his hands, which are indeed trembling, almost as badly as at the sight of Nightmare Demise, and he screams: "DAMN this frail useless human body!!"

Dinravi takes a step backwards, watching him, and says, "Ghirahim." And at getting his attention, he asks, "Does this mean that you came to me, tried to seduce me into conquest... Knowing that might mean you, too?"

Ghirahim stares at him for a breath, vulnerable, then looks away, frowning. "Of course I did," he says.

Dinravi sighs. "Of course you did," he echoes.

"I was FORGED for this," Ghirahim says helplessly. "To serve Master Demise, or the one who inherits from Him. Whatever that might mean."

"Ghirahim," Dinravi says gently. "You're almost half human now. I believed in your choice before, when we were thinking you entirely demon, but... Being human means getting to choose."

Ghirahim is adrift and he looks at the floor, the ceiling, out the window, and finally back at Dinravi, trying to find solid ground.

His voice is small. "Please kiss me?" he asks. Dinravi smiles and steps forward, leaning into him, brushing his lips tenderly with his own. Ghirahim whimpers and surges forward, and Dinravi puts his arms around him and steadies his stance, chuckling, soothing him, kisses him again. Ghirahim gasps as his knees buckle and he slides downward, almost ragdoll as Dinravi catches him again.

"Are you okay?!" Dinravi asks, holding him against his chest.

"I'm fine," Ghirahim whispers, hanging on for dear life. "C-can- Can we take this somewhere your MOM won't stumble on us, or worse one of the BRATS running around the castle? I'm about to become very embarrassing if we keep this up." He gives Dinravi a significant stare, face crimson. "Maybe with a bed?"

Dinravi's eyebrows shoot up. ".... Would you like me to carry you?" he finally asks.

"I think you're going to have to," Ghirahim admits.

We're going to give them some privacy. XD

[Image Description: Dinravi is tilting Ghirahim into a kiss, the sun setting through the window behind them.  Ghirahim’s eyes are open but he’s pliant in Dinravi’s arms, one hand curled against his chest.  Dinravi is smiling, eyes closed and his grip gentle but rather thoroughly in control of the situation.  End ID.]

Back At the Sky Commune

Maurice and the other priests/monks at the Sky Temple Commune had some word of what was going on by the time Astramorus returns, and Maurice has more or less been put in charge now, in recognition of his years of service and care of the commune’s day to day.

He’s a bit annoyed at Astramorus about the whole thing, if he’s honest, which he is, but he also does care about his former superior, and once Astramorus has settled back in and the Sheikah escort is being shown around he approaches him in his quarters, finding him by the window thrown open, chin resting in his hand, looking out of place in the kind of civilian clothing Astramorus has barely worn his entire life.

“So what are you going to do with yourself, Astramorus, once the Queen’s man has decided you’ve moped around here enough?” he asks.  Maurice is kind but he’s also gruff.  Birds don’t tend to care about your word choices, and Maurice spends much more time with pigeons and cuccos and loftwings than with people.

Astramorus shrugs, not turning from the view of the blue sky.  “Honestly Maurice, I was raised by Hylia’s Church.  Mayhap I’ll find something else, but.  Well, it was kind of the Queen to let me keep these quarters for more reasons than memory of my wife.”

Maurice bristles his mustache, and then he says, “You know... she stripped your rank.  There’s nothing about your sentence as I read it that says you can’t start over from the beginning.”

Astramorus finally turns to him, and Maurice is struck by how... well, how much happier the other man looks.  He’s lost nearly everything, and yet it’s like a great millstone’s off his neck.  And Astramorus smiles:

[Image Description: “Maybe,” Astramorus says, smiling against his hand.  He looks relaxed and happy, and maybe like he’s considering it seriously.  The sun shines on him gently.  End ID.]

What Now, Link?

And perhaps at the same time, now that he’s said his goodbyes and everything’s settled down, Marla finds Link sitting on a balcony rail of Hyrule Castle, looking out at Castle Town and looking pretty peaceful himself.

She comes up behind him and folds her arms against the rail, smiling up at him.

“So, Link, we finally got your father to listen to you,” she says, and she’s thinking of that conversation at the Shrine of the Furious God when she says it.  “What now?”

Link shrugs.  “I suppose I’ll stay here for a little while,” he says.  He wants to see Gray recovered, and to spend more time with the Royal Family, and it’d be nice, if he’s honest, to rest a while himself.  “The Queen says my mother’s family are probably still running around the continent somewhere, so I might look for them after that.”  Adventuring runs in the family, apparently, because Zelda Sr. only has some idea of where his grandparents have gotten off to, only some idea of where to find his mother’s younger siblings.

“Sounds like a plan,” Marla says.  She looks out at Hyrule Castle Town for a quiet moment, enjoying the sound of Link breathing.

“Do you think,” she says, “That we could take a few weeks to check back at Windfish Isle?  I have this horrible suspicion that the Mayor has filled Tonbo and my house with fishing nets and I’d like to let him know to find someone else to live there before the walls take on a permanent stink.”

We’re staying with you so we should let them know goes unspoken, but Marla has known for a while she’s tying herself to Link for the rest of his life the same way she’s tied herself to Tonbo for the rest of his life, and the world’s a bit wider than it was when she and Tonbo left with Link, and if Link’s going to be in the wide world, Marla and Tonbo should be too.

And Link knows what she means.  Because family means the people you don’t need so much courage around.

He smiles.  “Yeah,” he says.  “We can do that.”

[Image Description: Link and Marla.  Link is sitting on the balcony rail while Marla is leaning on it.  They’re giving one another fond smiles.  The sun shines on them gently, giving the image a slightly faded look.  End ID.]