#but i will need references to make it well

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS x ISAT part 1: In Stars and Necromancy.

(Part 2: soon!)

[ithebookhoarder]

Special Delivery (Spencer Reid x F!Reader)

Description: Something's different about Reid and no-one knows what. However, a surprise delivery to the BAU may just have the answer...

Warnings: Food references, mentions of mental health, mentions of medical procedures, references to smutty behaviour, Spencer being adorable

Masterlist

“Ok. Am I the only one who’s noticed something’s different with Reid lately?” Morgan remarked, watching as the said boy-genuis made his way across the bullpen and over to his desk. 

“Yeah,” Emily hummed, watching the young agent over the rim of coffee cup. She had to admit it - as much as it annoyed her - Morgan was right; Spencer has definitely been acting different. If anything, she was surprised it had taken them all this long to say anything. 

Normally, they were all over each other the moment they noticed anything even remotely different about each other. Hell, she’d barely taken a step off the elevator, after getting an extra few inches cut off at her latest haircut, before the team were quizzing her about possible life changes and whether or not they needed to be worried about her. 

It was a hazard of working with profilers for a living; it was almost impossible to keep anything a secret. No wonder they were all intrigued and slightly confused by the fact that none of them had been able to pinpoint what was going on with their friend. 

The most notable difference was the gradual disappearance of the dark circles under his eyes. Reid also seemed happier in general, less quiet and reserved when talking to others, and it was starting to make agents talk. 

Morgan and Emily stood up straighter as JJ walked over to join the unofficial gossip session. She took one look at the pair and knew immediately what they were whispering about. 

“Are you talking about Reid?”

“Oh yeah,” Morgan grinned, “my money’s on him having finally found someone.”

Emily choked, seemingly as a result of inhaling her coffee at the grand statement. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Miss ‘super spy’. Just look at him,” he teased. “He’s been distracted. He’s all goo-goo eyed and he’s been leaving this place at a normal hour. Like… tell me that doesn’t scream ‘I got a date’.”

“What? It could be loads of things. It doesn’t have to be a date, right JJ?”

“He’s probably just happy. We’ve all been getting more sleep lately and our paperwork is non-existent at the moment,” JJ murmured, reaching past the pair of them to grab for the coffee pot. She was clearly doing her best to try and put this line of questioning to rest. She’d always been the first to protect the younger agent she now saw as a little brother. “Besides, we all know he’s not interested in dating, he hasn’t been since…. Well, you know.”

Morgan groaned. “But what about the secret texts, JJ!” he protested, ignoring the look Emily shot him in return. “He’s been glued to that phone of his and keeps giggling like a school kid. Then there’s the lunches! I know he’s always been organised and likes things a certain way, but damn. His lunches have been like next level - and actually healthy? And I swear he’s had jello like every day.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “You’re basing your profile on jello? Is that it?” 

“Well, no I mean… did you not hear the part about the texting and the taking secret calls and the fact he didn’t come out for drinks last night-”

“-Can’t we just be glad for him? Whatever is going on, it’s good for him. Let’s just drop it, ok? He’ll tell us when he’s ready if there’s anything to share.”

“JJ’s right,” Emily echoed. “Reid’s just … happy. End of.”

By the way Morgan frowned it looked like it definitely was not the end of this conversation, but he never got the chance to argue. In fact, he was interrupted as the main doors opened next to them and a rather lost looking receptionist hurried through. 

Normally, this wouldn’t have been worth noticing but all three of them spun around at the sound of him calling out the name, “Agent Reid? uh… Is Agent Reid here?”

“Oh, uh, here!” Spencer shouted, soundly vaguely like he was taking roll call. It didn’t help that he shot his arm up in the air too, almost falling off his desk chair as he lurched to his feet and hurried over. “That’s… that’s me - and it’s Dr Reid, but it doesn’t matter. How can I help?”

“Oh, uh, there’s a Y/N at reception for you,” the unfortunate messenger managed, gesturing back the way they’d came. “I told them to wait whilst I came to check with you as they’re not on your visitor list-”

Spencer didn’t even let the poor man finish. He was already racing for the door before the man had even made it to the end of the sentence. Needless to say, the others were quick to follow, with Morgan smugly boasting “told you soooo” as he went. 

There was no way on earth they were missing this and considering Hotch and Rossi hadn’t arrived yet it wasn’t like they were about to get their asses handed to them for missing their briefing either. 

Despite the amount Spencer had told you about the BAU, you were still surprised by how different the FBI offices were to what you’d imagined. 

The offices were larger and the sheer number of people walking about in suits and carrying a side arm made you feel even more nervous, and that was already a problem considering you were stood there wearing neon blue scrubs, embroidered with jungle animals on the pocket. 

You were like a walking, flashing sign, screaming ‘outsider - does not work here’.  Thankfully, you weren’t going to be there long. You were only swinging by on your way to work, hoping to catch your utterly perfect - and utterly forgetful - boyfriend, before the start of your shift. 

Speaking of Spencer, you had only been standing there for possibly five minutes when you saw him barreling through the doors towards you. 

“Hey, Spence-“

“Y/N? Honey? What’s going on?” he gushed, hurrying over and taking your face in his hands. You could see his wide eyes frantically scanning every inch of you, looking for some kind of problem or sign that you were not ok. “Is everything alright? What are you doing here?”

You felt your cheeks warm at the sudden display of concern, very much aware of the scene your wonderful boyfriend was making. Spencer wasn’t normally the most affectionate in public, preferring to save those rare moments for when the two of you were alone. The fact he was so worried about what might have brought you to the FBI on a Tuesday morning was touching and made your heart swell. 

“I’m fine, Spence. Don’t worry-” 

“Then what are you doing here?” 

“You forgot something,” you soothed, pulling back and reaching into your satchel. It was impossible to miss the way his face reddened as you pulled out a neatly labeled Dr Who Tupperware by way of explanation. “I’m here because you were in such a rush this morning that you forgot your lunch.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’,” you teased. “I couldn’t exactly let you go hungry so I thought I’d drop it off on my way to work. I don’t start till later as I’m covering Amelia’s shift as she’s visiting her sister in Boston, so I thought I’d swing by.”

Sure, Spencer was an adult and you could have let him just buy something from the cafeteria or order something in for lunch, but considering how much effort he had gone to to cook with you the day before you felt bad letting it go to waste. 

He’d been so proud of the way the recipe had turned out, following the instructions and your guidance with extreme precision and care. The result had been a rather tasty looking dish - and it had the added benefit of being healthy too. You were always worried that Spencer seemed to think fast food, like Pizza, was a food group. Then again, he had been forced to be an adult pretty fast and had been in college so young that it wasn’t a surprise that no-one had been there to teach him about cooking and eating right. He had been too focused on his studies to even think about anything else.  

It was something he had been working on since you’d got together and now cooking had become one of your favourite date night activities. It didn’t hurt that you often ended up spilling food all over yourselves and needing to shower together - it was just a lovely bonus. In fact, your screensaver was now a picture of you and Spencer, covered in flour, and beaming ear to ear. 

“Thank you, that… that’s so nice,” Spencer stammered, “but I feel bad. You didn’t need to go out of your way and bring it to me.”

“As I say, it’s on my way to work. It’s no trouble.”

“Well, still-“

“Hey, pretty boy!” 

Spencer froze. 

“You gonna introduce us to your friend, or what?”

Spencer opened his mouth but instantly closed it again. You knew by the way he rolled his eyes and began muttering under his breath that whoever had shouted that had definitely been talking to him. 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Pretty boy, huh?” 

“Don’t ask,” he whined, taking a deep breath as you looked over his shoulder and saw a small group of people now making their way towards you. “I should probably mention that I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with me mentioning you, so I haven’t told anyone about us yet and those idiots are some of my team and I would say ‘run’ but they’re all faster than me.”

“Ah… I see. So I’m guessing that one is Morgan?” 

“Yes.”

“Well, no time like the present,” you cheered, turning and waving at the approaching trio. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N - Spencer’s girlfriend.”

“Wow. A girlfriend?” cooed Morgan, reaching over to pull you into a hug before the other two could stop him. To their credit, they looked slightly embarrassed by the display but they were clearly too interested in your identity to care. “And a doctor to boot? Didn’t know he had it in him. I’m Derek Morgan.”

“Oh, I worked that out. It’s good to finally meet you all.” 

The others were quick to echo the sentiment, with JJ and Emily quickly introducing themselves in tandem. They were also quick to invite you inside the office for some coffee, but thankfully you weren’t lying when you said you had to get to work. 

“You know how it is. People to take care of, medical cases to solve, lives to save - same old, same old. All I’m missing is a snazzy badge and I could be an FBI agent.” 

“Ha ha.” Spencer’s smile was genuine as you stole a kiss before making a dash for your car. However, you could see the nerves in his eyes at being left alone to face the great inquisition that now awaited him following the discovery of your existence. You were pretty sure the entire BAU would know about you before it even hit lunchtime. “I’ll see you later, ok?” 

“Of course. Just let me know if you’re coming home or if you’re off saving the world in another state - otherwise I can’t promise I won’t eat all the leftovers before you get back.” 

He chuckled. “Will do.” 

With that, you bid the others goodbye, making sure to agree when they asked (more like insisted) that you came to their family dinner on Friday night at none other than Rossi’s house. The rest of the team were going to be begging to meet you after this, and they were all bringing their families along too. 

If Spencer wasn’t comfortable with you going you were pretty sure the team would believe it if you said you’d got called into a last minute surgery, but you’d check later when you both returned to the apartment you now called your home. Either way, you were going to have to make something to take with you, just in case. 

As your grandpa had always said, there was no quicker way to someone’s heart than through their stomach. Or, as in Spencer's case, with an unlimited supply of Jello...

[a-b-riddle]

I'm just going to ask this because I need to get it out of my head. This is all in regards to your Poly141 x Reader series going on. I'm just going to recap things first.

-Price got verbally eviscerated because of all the times he got short/snapped at the reader because he came into their bookstore that they bought with their own money, put their own blood, sweat and tears into fixing up and had THE AUDACITY to call them immature for trying to break things off cleanly like a MATURE adult in a space that's RIGHTFULLY THEIRS because he couldn't be an adult admit how he shouldn't of been treating the reader like one of his men.

-Soap showing up trying to apologize and then thinking with his dick because of how the reader got dressed up for a dinner date and got a taste of his own medicine when the reader just hit it and quit it without so much as a thank you, or a goodbye kiss and basically told him to clean up, get dressed and kick rocks.

-Gaz shows up after weeks of just flaking out of any dates and just being a ghost (ironic considering Ghost's callsign) trying to talk to the reader in person when the reader had tried for months to just get a glimpse of him only to be told he couldn't right now but could another time. Then the reader just tell him, 'yeah sorry no. I don't have time for you and your mates nonsense at the moment, just swing by to get your stuff when it works for you'.

-Ghost showing up whenever the reader is in trouble and getting them away from danger only to disappear shortly afterward and give the reader radio silence. The one time that the reader tried to seek him out for just a SHRED of comfort and he just told them, 'You're only good for what's in between your legs love, you knew what you were getting into. You should've known better.'

With all this mind, I want Ghost to have everything and the kitchen sink thrown at him. I want him to be told in no kind words that his words and lack of realizing how fucked up the things he said to the reader were was the straw that broke the camel's back. I want the reader to hurl everything that they didn't say to Price to Ghost. I want him to realize in no unclear terms how if he didn't fuck up so royally and had actually attempted to give the reader a fraction of what he was being given, things would be so much better. And for some extra salt on the wound, have the reader tell him that they suppose that when it comes to his line of work, he's pretty good at breaking anything and everything he touches. It's just a shame that for anything that involves a softer touch, he winds up breaking it beyond repair.

I just love narrative/reflective irony and can't wait for the next part and wish you well for making it to the end of this ramble. 🥰

I'm throwing up.

I am so happy that y'all got it without me having to say it. YES! She is giving everything back that they gave her. John's outbursts, Johnny's lack of aftercare and Kyle's flakiness.

I will say this which I think is interesting. Simon said something hellllla shitty and unforgivable. Like it was mean and something once you say you can't take back. I will ask this and feel free to go back and re-read.

What else did Simon do? Before the phone call, what else did Simon do to reader? We know Simon wanted to hurt reader. Why? Did he plan

Spoiler below, read at own caution

Or was he just sick of being the only one out of the four guys to actually contribute to the relationship and knew he needed to be the one to drive it home that there isn't a future with them? Reader refers to Simon several times as her body guard or guard dog... But never a boyfriend or partner.

In flashbacks, we see that Simon only ever came over at night. You'll find out why in the next few chapters, but as much as I love y'all hating on Simon, I cannot WAIT for y'all to get to the why.

And remember kiddos, hurt people hurt people.

[jensettermandu]

song worthy - jang wonyoung

genre; smut

pairing; show-goer!wonyoung x rockstar!female reader

content; set in the mid 2000s, cigarette use, mentions of wiccans/witches (wony being referred to as a witch at times), still channeling the inner dirt-bag/rockstar core (claiming it <3), rockstar!reader x show-goer!wony. smut; switch wonyoung/reader, cunnilingus (both giving/receiving), fingering (both giving/receiving)

synopsis; wonyoung gets stoped by the frontwoman of the band that's been making a buzz lately and gets offered a deal she can't decline, especially not with the mutual desires that linger in both of their gazes.

wc; 5.4k

masterlist

a/n; this is from a scrapped story, but enjoy!

Y/n’s cold hand dug into the pocket of the black leather jacket before taking out a wrinkled and soft pack of cigarettes. Another sniffle followed, her nose cold as she took one out and put it between her lips, eyes woefully looking at three cigarettes left and no money to buy more.

“So much for being a performer.” She mumbled as the money her band earned was close to nothing. The impulsive decision of dropping school to pursue a band with her friends was biting her in the ass. It felt impossible to do anything right for the forlorn singer who had been negative about her life since the day she was born. 

She put the pack back, searched for the zippo, and groaned when she realised that she had thrown it into the van earlier after lighting her previous one. Her friends were already gone after leaving her behind since she couldn’t crash at theirs; the girl having no place to stay the night at.

The streets were half empty, people passing by and minding their business and cars speeding along the road. She held the stick between her glossy lips, looking around, hearing sirens somewhere in the distance, being well aware of how unsafe this area was and it did make her anxious—at the back of her head which she ignored. 

The wired headphones blasted Jennifer’s Body by Hole and small stones dragged along the wet concrete behind her. Y/n looked back to see a girl walk out from behind the alley she had come from. Unaware of the frontwoman’s presence since her gaze was on the ground beneath her platforms. 

Y/n quickly took the cig out of her mouth. “Hey, hey, wait up!” She called for the stranger, almost stumbling over her duffle bag as she caught onto the girl’s bare arm, stepping over the bag in the process and managing to stay on both feet.

“Are you out of your fucking mind!?” She harshly exclaimed, yanking her arm out of the band member’s grip. Her eyes were hard at the sudden and blenching intrusion that made her back up a step. The girl’s eyebrows raised into a frown as she looked over at the lead singer who was looking back at her. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, but I just need to borrow a lighter–if you have one on you that is.” She quickly spouted out an apology, noticing she scared her. Y/n’s eyes searched for why the girl seemed so familiar. 

It clicked for Y/n when she looked over at the inch-taller girl. She had seen her in the crowd the past two shows and she remembered because she had a face and style hard to forget. The girl who had just raised her voice at her came as more than a poser. She was dressed in black fishnets with ripped sheer tights under, a small top, exposing most of her skin and a mini leather skirt with a studded belt.

A silence followed after the apology as the taller girl sighed through her nose with fingers looking through the black Rachel bag. She took out a pink bic and Y/n almost in haste grabbed it as she finally had something to light the cigarette with. 

“Thank you,” she muffled out with the cancer stick between plump lips. Her hand came up to cover the side where a gentle yet cold breeze blew at them so the fire wouldn’t blow out. With that she ignited it and inhaled, filling her lungs with the smoke as the tip caught an ember before it turned to ash, burning along the white.

The girl watched the girl she knew as Y/n, the lead singer of the band that just performed.

“Were you at the show?” Y/n questioned her while handing back the lighter, sticking her right hand into the pocket of the leather jacket to keep herself from getting even colder. The taste of the smoke was strong on her tongue, the cheap cigarettes had to suffice as she could not afford any better brands. Not like she had money for a nicotine addiction–not having money for a place to live–but it was too late for consideration.

“Yeah…” She simply confirmed.

Y/n nodded at that and her eyes trailed along the slim figure in front of her and they only stopped on her thighs. She pointed down at her thigh with her head, blowing the smoke to the side while flicking at the cigarette between her fingers. A garter on the girl’s left thigh with a pentacle. 

“Are you Wiccan?” She questioned, knowing enough about the pentacle to know that Wiccans who often identified as witches used them although not all witches were Wiccan.

“You’re the first one to ask me if I’m Wiccan and not Satanist…But yes.” 

Y/n hummed and looked back up from the garter with the steel pentacle. “They usually use an inverted one.” She pointed out, knowing better than to assume the girl was Satanist as they usually used inverted ones. The two had significantly different meanings to them. 

The brunette tilted her head, dark hair falling down her shoulders and over her pale skin that was illuminated by the shitty yellow lights that went along the sidewalk the two girls stood on. 

“So…This is where you offer me a cigarette, rockstar.” The girl said, doing a once over at the lanky musician. Their eyes met, both having slept in smudged eyeliner although the proclaimed Wiccan could see the tiredness and bad nights of sleep on the other girl who chuckled and took out the cigarettes.

“What do I get for a cigarette?” She questioned her and the latter raised her eyebrows as she looked at Y/n who tilted the pack and showed the content inside, three sticks pathetically waiting to be smoked. 

“Only have three left so it’s a big offer.” The singer added. She usually wouldn’t offer or give anyone cigarettes if she only had two or three left. Especially if she had no money. 

“You get the honours of being a kind human being.” She gave the only thing she had to give as she toyed with the lighter in her hold, igniting it and letting go. Her eyes came up and looked at the girl in leather who hummed unsure with smoke coming out of her nose, catching the little shining gem on Y/n’s left nostril.

“What’s your name?” Y/n asked. 

“It’s Wonyoung.” 

She nodded at that, the lead singer still needed a place to stay the night and the weather was turning colder as it was close to being 2:30 am. She took another quick drag and blew out the smoke before licking her lower lip which tasted of vanilla and tobacco. 

“Okay…What would I get for a cigarette and two tickets to the show next Friday, Wony?” She offered Wonyoung. 

The tickets were somewhat expensive, around 20 bucks, 10 for entrance to the club and 10 for the band's show. Expensive or not, Y/n saw no reason for Wonyoung to deny because who said no to free tickets? She always carried a few on her as they at times worked like money. Aside from the duffle bag filled with clothes and another pair of shoes, they were her most prized possession at the moment. 

The deal was made as Wonyoung’s fingers nimbly reached for a cigarette from the pack as she spoke. “What do you need?” She asked before putting the stick between her plump lips, covering it from the wind and lighting it with the pink bic. Her gaze came back up to Y/n after as the smoke they blew out trailed away from them. 

“A place to stay for the night…I have the tickets in my bag.” Y/n pointed to the bag behind her feet while hoping that the newly met stranger would let her crash. In the end, she seemed harmless as she was hot and liked their music if she had shown up to three shows. It wouldn't be Y/n’s first time crashing at a stranger's place.

“My car is parked right there…I live along the boulevard.” Wonyoung said and pointed along the sidewalk where a black sedan stood. That was enough for Y/n to turn around and get the duffle bag.

Wonyoung eyed the lithe girl who turned her back to her. At the moment her confusion was how the whole idea seemed ludicrous because why on earth did the frontwoman need a place to stay? She didn’t ask though because she felt like it wasn’t her business and neither did she judge. In the end, she got two free tickets and the band’s lead singer all in the deal. The new sex symbol among showgoers. There was no need for complaints. 

“Let’s get going then.” Y/n sighed, huffing as she slung the heavy bag over her shoulder while ignoring the pain of the strap straining through the leather jacket and against her shoulder. 

Wonyoung led the way as they walked beside each other, the heels of their chunky boots dragging along the wet concrete, unconsciously kicking at small pebbles as they approached the car. 

She opened the BMW E36, the lights blinking as the locks released and Y/n put the stick between her lips while opening the back seat to put her bag inside while the witch got into the driver’s seat. The doors slammed closed after them and the frontwoman got into the passenger seat in the front as Wonyoung started the car.

“Are you like a fan or something?” Y/n curiously questioned once she was settled, glancing at Wonyoung while slightly rolling down the window to let out the smoke just like the driver's side window was down. It let in the cool breeze and prevented the smoke from lingering longer than needed. 

Wonyoung scoffed out a short laugh at the question, the singer rather fixated on her being a fan because she was going to let her stay the night. “Tickets to big bands are too expensive for me and there’s been a buzz about your band…You take what you can.” 

Y/n laughed at the reply, eyes crinkling as the grin stayed until it turned to a softer smile. She shook her head and reached into her pocket once more with her free hand, throwing the butt of the cigarette out the window. 

The speakers in the car played the album Paranoid by Black Sabbath, the CD case lying on the dashboard with a few other cases. Y/n took out the stolen MP3 from her pocket, not having money to buy a device that expensive she found a different way to get one. With that, she turned off the music and the blasting from the wired headphones stopped as she took them off. 

“I can’t deny that you guys have great songs and you, a great voice.” Wonyoung complimented as even if the band was just a try after hearing the buzz about them, they did catch her attention because it was just what she liked. A mix of grunge, alt, heavy metal and punk rock with lyrics sung raw and with emotion. 

She ashed the cigarette out the window while looking at the girl who reached into the back seat, blatantly, not minding that she was in a mini skirt and Wonyoung did not mind it either as her eyes beckoned at the exposed skin of her long legs and further, getting a glimpse of the black lace underwear.

Y/n let out a breath, Wonyoung’s eyes went back to the road when she sat back in the seat after shoving her headphones into her duffle bag. The car smelled of cigarettes and sweet vanilla, and there was a faint smell of strawberries as there was an old and aired-out car freshener hanging in the rearview mirror shaped like a strawberry with its colour drained—from how old it was. 

The dark-haired girl looked at the driver of the car as she rested her cheek against her fist, elbow resting by the window that let in cool air. 

“You have a quite soothing voice,” it was almost like a purr coming from Y/n, complimenting Wonyoung’s voice. It made a smile grace her lips as she glanced at the singer, flicking away her cigarette. 

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Wonyoung stated although there had already been a silent agreement between the two of them when they first looked at each other and Wonyoung agreed to let Y/n stay the night. 

There was no denying the mutual attraction that came from looks to music taste and demeanour. 

All Y/n did was shrug while Wonyoung sped through the almost empty street. “You did say you liked my voice and I thought you knew that we would share a bed tonight.” She leered out, pointing out the obvious as neither was going to let this opportunity slip. 

There was a hot girl dressed in grunge, driving Y/n to her place.

A hot lead singer was asking to crash at Wonyoung’s place.

Wonyoung sniffled, Y/n’s eyes catching how her pierced nose scrunched up before trailing further down at the nipples protruding through the thin black shirt. Her skin was catching goosebumps from the breeze let in through the windows. 

“It would be quite nice to hear a lead singer’s voice under different circumstances.” Wonyoung beckoned, welcoming to the idea the singer in question brought up. 

Y/n bit her lower lip and Wonyoung’s eyes landed on her once again, the two constantly glancing at each other. With each glance a heat grew in the cool air of the car, a tension thick enough for a knife not to be able to even cut through it. 

The sexual desires grew with lust hazing in the air, growing like a fog in the morning as Planet Caravan started to play. A fixated look as she trailed her eyes up the exposed stomach of the singer. The light pink butterfly navel jewellery with three dangling gems was just one of the things that caught Wonyoung’s attention.

“And to see the hearts.” She added, seeing the two heart shapes protruding through Y/n’s shirt. Y/n looked down at her chest, the two piercings with heart-shaped jewellery outline showing through the small tee. 

A sly grin came onto the frontwoman’s lips, tongue poking at her canine as her eyes attended to Wonyoung’s body. “Might make you a fan tonight.” It smugly left her lips and Wonyoung chuckled, turning the car and slowing down as she drove into the neighbourhood with fingers tapping against the wheel. 

The two were getting jittery and wanted to make it to the apartment as quickly as possible because their sexual desires and lust would suffocate them both soon enough. 

“What if the roles get reversed?” The witch questioned as she parked the car, stating the possibility of the vixen in her passenger seat becoming the fan tonight. 

The vixen in question let out a breath, questioning herself if she was in love with the woman who parked the car. It wasn’t love—the two of them were just horny and found each other hot in so many ways. 

“Then there’s gonna be trouble.” Y/n gave a heads-up, opening the door just like Wonyoung did as they both got out. Doors slammed closed as the lithe girl opened the backseat and quickly got her stuff. 

The door shut and the car got locked, the bag being slung over the almost sore shoulder once again. Y/n’s eyes looked around the empty neighbourhood as everyone seemed to be asleep at around 2:30 am. Her eyes landed on the two-story apartment building with an external staircase that they were heading towards. Everything was a luxury for the singer who did not have a place to call home yet after getting kicked out of every place. 

“Do you often let band members stay the night?” Y/n asked, looking up at Wonyoung who walked ahead of her on the stairs, catching a glimpse of her ass covered in sheer tights and fishnets. The shaking of the metal stairs resonated through the empty night, leaving an echo as their heavy boots collided with them. 

 “I’m no groupie…You were just convincing enough, hot too.” Wonyoung replied over her shoulder as she didn’t bring any band members home. This was the first one as no one in the other bands had stood out like the girl behind her who made the small stage her playground while delivering vocals with emotions and different techniques depending on the song. 

It felt almost weird for Wonyoung to hear the singer talk as her voice was contrasting to the one she sang with. She’d sing and vocal fry, but spoke in a tone that made it hard to believe she was the same person. It left her more than intrigued and needy for more. 

Y/n smiled at the reply and they reached the second floor and the first door right by the stairs. Wonyoung took out the keys to the door from the small purse she had and inserted the keys into the lethargic keyhole. The door jammed as she twisted the key and bumped it with her shoulder for it to budge open like she always had to open it. With that, she managed to push it open fully and stepped inside, grabbing hold of the wall to remove her boots.

“Where’s the bedroom?” The question left Y/n’s lips the second she stepped inside and closed the door after her. The cursed duffle bag fell to the wooden floor with a loud thud and Y/n somehow managed to pry her heavy boots off her feet, each one falling to the floor with a thud. 

The one-bedroom apartment was dark as the brunette hadn’t turned on any of the lights and instead grabbed the arm of the leather jacket. “Right this way, star.” Wonyoung’s tone was torrid as she pulled Y/n after her, walking through the open kitchen and living room. Guiding her the short distance from one door to another that she pushed open. 

The bedroom was merely lit up by the lamp posts and other passing lights outside that were gandering through the creaks in the blinds. 

Y/n shut the door with her foot and Wonyoung turned around, her eyes murky with lust as she looked at the girl. Her hands clutched onto the lapels of the leather jacket, pulling the frontwoman into her whose lips parted right away when they met Wonyoung’s. 

It was almost tacky how sloppy the kiss got as their slick tongues met—the two loved it. The singer's barbell was pulled at and brushed against Wonyoung’s teeth. Slender hands ran to the back of the witch and grabbed hold of her ass under the mini skirt, gripping the warm and soft flesh between fingers that threaded through the sheer tights and fishnets. 

Wonyoung pulled her closer, breathless moans falling from both girls as she stepped back, pulling Y/n along while tilting her head, her tongue toying with the hard barbell. 

The kiss tasted of vanilla, strawberries, and cigarettes, lip gloss mingling, making Y/n pull back and capture Wonyoung’s lower lip. She sucked on it, tongue dragging along her lips until Wonyoung’s legs hit the bed and Y/n’s hands came up to her small tee. She tugged it over her head, discarding it to the side before shoving Wonyoung to sit on the bed and hastily removing her leather jacket. 

The heat coursed their bodies, everything going south as it throbbed with need between their legs. Y/n’s hand threaded into dark waves as she tilted Wonyoung’s head up, capturing the plump strawberry-tasting lips, pushing the girl back until she had her lying down on the bed. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” That gruffly voice came out from the singer, close to the one she would sing with and Wonyoung’s chest heaved as Y/n’s wet lips ran down from her lips. Kissing down to her jaw almost heedlessly with how messy it was, panting hot air against her skin.

“I’ve left your last two shows all wet because of how hot you’re on stage,” Wonyoung admitted, lost in the moment when lips wetly trailed down to her chest. A gasp fell from her lips at the teeth grazing her hard nipples before getting engulfed in Y/n’s warm mouth. It was enough to make her hips buck at the throbbing between her legs, Y/n’s one hand roughly grabbed hold of her skirt, bodies almost flush against each other. 

“You sure you’re not a groupie?” Y/n humidly chuckled against Wonyoung’s chest before burying her face in the breasts, nipping and sucking at the ample flesh. Faint and needy moans fell from Wonyoung’s lips as she looked down at the band member with her hand in her hair, pushing Y/n further down. 

“Mhm…” Wonyoung breathlessly confirmed and Y/n dropped onto her knees between the girl’s legs on the hard and cold floor. “Never planned on actually fucking you.” Yet here she was, about to fuck with the vixen she only thought of fucking. 

She bit her lower lip, hips lifting off the edge of the bed where she was lying when Y/n hooked her fingers under the skirt and every other piece of clothing. The two were too eager to wait around, wanting nothing more than a taste of the Hellmouth they both were entering through for the night. 

Y/n yanked at the clothes, hearing something rip in the process as she pulled them off of Wonyoung’s legs before she dropped the tights and skirt onto the floor. The brunette was left naked on the bed. Her pussy dripping with need just from the rough and messy handling by the lead singer who kissed her warm thighs. 

Y/n grabbed hold of Wonyoung’s right leg who hooked it over her shoulder before slumping back down onto the bed. Her eyes were on the dark ceiling as her chest heaved before she closed her eyes and drowned in the kisses that were being scattered along her inner thighs. 

Y/n pushed Wonyoung’s other leg further apart, her eyes landing on her dripping cunt and her fingers eagerly came up to her puffy pink folds. The girl’s lips parted with a gasp at the cold fingers that ran through her lips, gathering the slickness and spreading it up to her clit. The small nudge on the bundle of nerves was enough to make her let out a vague whine with thighs tensing up. 

She coated her fingers in Wonyoung’s slickness, spreading her lips with them as she moved forward and kissed the fleshy mound, feeling how Wonyoung stifled her hips from bucking. The brunette's warmth was becoming a sopping mess, the slickness running down to the sheets as Y/n pulled away with her mouth and wetted her lips. Her eyes fell on the clit she revealed by spreading her open with two fingers. 

“Oh–I’m gonna make you fucking dizzy,” she muttered under her breath, lips attaching around the swollen and slick clit—followed by a sharp suckle and flicking of a skilled tongue.

It was enough for Wonyoung to moan, the action being so precipitous that her chest tightened at the gasp she let out, hand flying into the dark hair and fingers tangling in it as her back arched before she slumped back with her other hand clutching onto the sheets. 

Y/n savoured the taste on her tongue, massaging the clit with her tongue, Wonyoung continuously let out small whimpers and gasps as her hips rolled into the girl’s face unable to lay still at the pleasure running through every nerve in her body. Her blood running warmer and making her body heat up even more. 

Y/n’s fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh that rested over her shoulder and pulled her closer to the throbbing cunt. She moved her other hand away from the thigh she was holding onto to keep Wonyoung from closing her legs and moved it down. 

Among the sucking and flicking at her clit, Wonyoung’s stomach tightened in anticipation when she felt two fingers caressing her clenching hole. Y/n brushed her middle finger over it, the wetness letting her easily slip her finger into the warm and tight wetness. Her walls throbbed around her finger as she decided to push in a second one, both fingers getting sucked right in by the girl’s tightness.

“Y/n—” Wonyoung moaned, hand tugging onto her hair, making the latter moan against her heat, working her tongue faster on her clit. 

“Fuck.” She breathed, Y/n’s fingers pressing and caressing her g-spot in a way that was making her thighs spasm and the orgasm quickly build up. Her hips pushed more into Y/n’s face, her pussy squelching from how sopping she was, the warmth around the fingers inside her squeezing as her whole body slowly tensed up. The occasional brush of the barbell against her sensitive clit was making her light-headed and whiny.

“Oh fuck—” It hit Wonyoung so quick, her words fading as she let out a harsh gasp, eyebrows furrowing and mouth falling slack as she arched her back, the back of her head pressing into the mattress. Breathless whimpers and whines fell from her lips as her body convulsed at the orgasm that hit her, being enough to make her ascend for a second before falling back down to earth. 

Y/n slowed down, pulling out her fingers as she dipped her head to lap everything leaking out of her grasping hole. 

Wonyoung heaved for breath as her hot body relaxed with her heart pounding, enjoying the last of the slick muscle cleaning up the mess she was made into. Y/n hummed and pulled away, taking her fingers covered in the latter's juices into her mouth and cleaning them up too. 

Her leg came down from the shoulder and Y/n pulled back, grabbing the hem of her tee and pulling it over her head. The small piece of material got thrown to the side before she stood and Wonyoung sat up. 

The brunette’s grip was harsh as she grabbed hold of the meagre wrist and pulled the girl onto the bed. Y/n’s back hit the soft mattress as she pushed herself up with her head on one of the pillows. Her eyes barely being able to focus because of how uncomfortable the heat between her legs was as Wonyoung crawled over to her and settled herself between her legs. 

Her limber fingers ran along Y/n’s thighs as the witch bit her lower lip, looking at the latter’s chest with two pierced nipples, adorned by heart-shaped jewellery with light pink gems just like the ones in the navel one. Contrasting from the dark grunge clothes she’d dress in. 

“I’m gonna have you running back for more…” Wonyoung mumbled, her fingers hooking under the skirt and pulling it down Y/n’s slim and bruised legs, discarding the piece of underwear in the process too. 

“What do you need me running back for, Wony?” Y/n questioned as the girl on top leaned down, resting her arm beside Y/n’s head. Bodies pressed into each other, the gems of the piercing rough against Wonyoung’s nipples and she chuckled. 

Y/n caught the taller one's lower lip and sucked on it with her hands wrapping around her shoulders. “Free tickets—” She breathed out, kissing down the defined jawline before dipping her head and kissing under it. Her fingers sneakily ran along Y/n’s inner thighs, the wetness smeared and thighs tensing around her body. “And good sex.” She finished while humming when Y/n tugged at her ear with her teeth.

“Better make me feel as good as music does then.” A shaky breath followed Y/n’s words, the puff of air hitting Wonyoung’s ear and making her shiver—her fingers running through the wet folds. Wonyoung’s mouth trailed kisses all over the lead singer’s neck, leaving it wet while her fingers worked to gather the wetness to the bundle of nerves. 

Y/n’s hand grabbed hold of the dark hair, pulling the girl back up as their lips met. It was as messy as before, slick tongues pressing as they both tilted their heads to get more of each other. The whimper from Y/n was muffled by the mouth sucking on her tongue when Wonyoung circled her clit with her fingers. Softly she continued to circle it; teasing as the frontwoman’s hips continued to buck in need. 

She got what she needed and wanted as Wonyoung dipped her hand, swiftly pushing two of her fingers into the tight hole. She pulled away from Y/n, licking up the string of saliva between their lips as she watched the lead singer let out a whimpering moan that was light at the two fingers that started to move in her. 

Wonyoung worked her fingers, flicking her wrist as her palm met the slick and swollen clit, pressing and rubbing. The two long fingers engulfed in the snug pussy rubbed at the soft and spongy g-spot.

Y/n’s grip tightened in Wonyoung’s hair, hips rolling into her hand and the girl between her legs pushed herself up. Her eyes fell between their bodies, the sounds were lewd from the loud and very vocal vocalist and the slickness of her fingers dragging along the warm throbbing walls. 

“I’m not sure where you sound better, Y/n.” Wonyoung let out a satisfied hum and bit her lower lip. 

“Wony—” Y/n stopped and her chest heaved, the said girl stopping her movement for a split second as the heat on top of the singer disappeared together with the two fingers deep in her. 

Wonyoung pushed herself down and got down on her stomach. It was as if her mouth was watering, seemingly deprived of sex and she inserted her fingers back in. “Fuck that’s good.” Y/n hummed, Wonyoung licking up her slit before circling the clit, both of the girls rolling back their eyes—one in pleasure, the other at the addicting taste.

Her head tilted, flicking her tongue as she wrapped her lips around Y/n’s clit, fingers still driving inside the tight hole. Y/n’s back arched, hands tangling in Wonyoung’s hair as her hips moved into the warm mouth, the tongue slick and scalding against her cunt. 

“Shit—I’m gonna write a song about your mouth–oh fuck.” 

Wonyoung smiled at the words, doing her best to pleasure the lead singer with her mouth and fingers after getting an orgasm that made her feel like she ascended for a second. The slim thighs spasmed around her head and she reached her other hand up, cupping under the supple breast that fit right into her palm. Her fingers, toyed with the piercing and nipple as she worked her tongue harder against the clit between her lips. 

She could feel the walls tighten around her fingers, making her press down on the soft wall and continue the movement of her tongue. Fingers pinching and tugging at the hard nipple as Y/n let out whiny and light moans. The mess grew bigger on the sheets with each second, spit and slick covered her chin as her mouth worked sloppily on the girl’s cunt, making it so much more lewd.

Her thighs quivered at the warm tongue dragging and flicking over her clit. It made her head buzz at how deep she could feel Wonyoung’s fingers inside her heat unable to stop how she clenched around them with every movement. The slurping of the girl’s mouth was barely making it to Y/n as her ears grew muffled, not being able to think about anything but how good it felt.

Heat shot through her whole body as her legs tensed up around Wonyoung’s head, the orgasm running through every part of her body as Wonyoung only stopped once she was heaving under her just like she had done. She pulled her fingers out of the pulsating walls and licked everything up before pulling away, clearing her fingers with her tongue too while sitting back on her heels. 

“Song worthy?” She questioned with a sly smirk and Y/n hummed, pushing herself up and grabbing hold of Wonyoung’s wrist. “Totally, but this whole night is gonna be song-worthy.” She let the girl know, making her straddle her thigh, the wet heat pressing against the skin of it. Their lips met once again as she gripped Wonyoung’s hips, guiding her to roll them. 

masterlist

[undressrehearsal]

is it casual now?

chapter 1

summary: you and ellie agreed that this was just for a little fun - so what's the harm in her inviting you to joel's for a movie night?

word count: 2.3k

tags: nsfw, fingering (e and r receiving), angst, dub con?? i think?, does this count as public sex?, this shit's messy af y'all, mean reader, toxic relationship

a/n: i've wanted to write a fic based off this song for a while now. i've seen a few people write it (the song's a banger) but i only ever see ellie being written as the distant toxic one and tbh i don't think that matches her character so here's the opposite

also i hid a one last stop reference in here if you find it you get a prize (it's not hard to find)

if you wanna be tagged in the things i post, just lmk in the replies!

Joel was trying to decide what movie you should watch. 

At least, Ellie thought he was. She could see the way his lips were moving - could even make out the words Dawn of the Wolf, whatever that meant - but she couldn’t actually hear him. She sat across from him at the dining table, nodding along, trying to school her expression into a pantomime of interest, but his words were drowned out by the ringing in her ears. 

Your hand on her thigh crept higher. 

Ellie shifted in the uncomfortable wood chair, uncrossing her legs only to recross them, and your hand didn’t move. You stroked slow circles into her jeans with your thumb; she would have thought it was absentminded if she didn’t know you so well. Ellie could see you in her peripheral. You smiled politely, nodding along as Joel listed off what movies he had found lately - it had become his mission to hunt for them while he was on patrol. (He always insisted that Ellie needed to be familiar with all the classics from before the outbreak.) 

Somewhere past the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, Ellie heard Joel say her name. She blinked, shifted in her seat again, and replied intelligently, “Huh?” 

He shook his head at her and laughed as he said, “Where you at, kiddo?” 

She ran a hand through her hair, purposely avoiding looking at you - she knew she’d only find that shit-eating smile on your face. “Sorry, had patrol late last night. Yeah, that movie sounds cool.” She had no idea what movie he had suggested. 

It didn’t matter much in the end. After switching off the lights, Joel sat back in his big old recliner (he’d looked like a fucking kid on Christmas morning when Tommy gave that to him), leaving the couch to you and Ellie. You leaned into her with your head on her shoulder; she had her arm draped over the back of the couch, not quite touching you. She was dancing a fine line between wanting to hold you and knowing you wouldn’t let her, but the tightrope was slipping from under her feet because you had put your fucking hand on her thigh again. She’d swear there was a damn magnet connecting your hand to her. 

Ellie covered a gasp with a cough when your hand drifted between her legs. Your eyes were glued to the flickering television, but there was no hiding the small, satisfied smile on your lips. And she fucking hated herself for wanting to kiss it more than anything. 

The tattered blanket you shared covered up the fact that the tips of your fingers were grazing across the seam of her jeans. Even the ghost of friction made her squirm, the movie becoming nothing more than white noise. You were too fucking bold, and her head spun when your nimble fingers undid the button and slid the zipper down so slowly it ached. When your fingertips dipped below the waistband of her boxers, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Joel. He was enthralled in the movie, and she couldn’t even pay attention to it; she hated herself for that too. 

She knew she shouldn’t; she knew she should’ve grabbed your wrist, told you to stop so she could just enjoy the movie with her… with Joel. He’d been trying to plan a movie night with her for a week, and tonight she had finally been free from patrol. God, she shouldn’t have invited you, but when he asked if she wanted to bring a friend, of course your name had popped up. 

She should have known it would be a mistake - an intoxicating one, but a mistake nonetheless. And when you dragged your fingers over her, pressing the lightest pressure to her clit, it took everything in her not to tilt her hips against your hand in search of friction. 

Ellie bit down on her lip so hard she'd swear she tasted blood when you dipped just the tips of your fingers inside her. It was embarrassing how easy it was - how wet she already was and you had hardly even touched her. But when you circled her clit, your fingers already soaked, the shame burning in her chest evaporated. Her eyes fluttered, heat burning in her stomach, your touch setting her aflame. Her fingers dug into the back of the couch. She longed to touch you, to just wrap her arm around you and hold you close, press your head to her chest so you could hear how her heart reached for you. 

Instead, she could only grip the couch behind your shoulder, gritting her teeth against the ache of it. You didn't even look at her, playing with her as though it were an afterthought, but there was no missing the smirk on your lips. She hated it; God, she wanted to kiss you. 

Ellie didn't dare look at Joel - she didn't think she could handle seeing him so engrossed in the movie he had been so excited to show her while she sat only a few feet away, coming undone on his couch. She couldn't handle the shame rising in her throat again. If she looked at him, she was sure she'd be sick right there. 

She tried so hard to keep it together - her hips ached from the force of holding them still, her lip surely cracked from biting it. Her chest burned with the moans she had to swallow like acid. But she couldn't keep it all in - it was overflowing. And when finally, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap, a low groan spilled from her lips, Joel turned to look at her. 

Ellie didn't want to think about what he saw, but whatever it was, it made his brow pinch in concern. She couldn't meet his worried eyes when he said, “You okay, kiddo? You don't look too good.” 

Your fingers hadn't even fucking slowed. You looked at her with a mask of concern, batting your eyes so innocently even as you pressed your fingers into her, curling them so you hit that spot that made her see stars. And then Ellie did grab you, gripping your shoulder in warning and glaring down at you. You wrinkled your nose, but relented and slid your fingers out of her; her grip tightened when you slid back over her clit. Fuck, she never should've invited you. 

Ellie cleared her throat; she couldn't look at either of you without feeling sick, so she turned her gaze to the movie. What was it even about? 

“Sorry, I just-” Her voice was strained, suffocating in her own throat. She felt like she was going to swallow her own tongue. The coil in her stomach tightened and she felt nauseous. She groaned again, and the words tripped over themselves in a rush when she said, “I don't feel good.” 

Ellie stumbled to her feet, forcing you to withdraw your hand; when she glanced down, she could see that your fingers were wet and it made her stomach twist. Keeping one hand over her stomach to hide the fact that her fucking pants were undone, she hurried from the room, ignoring Joel when he called after her. She couldn't look him in the eye or else she might actually puke.

Making a beeline for the bathroom, Ellie slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, the wood cold against her back. She took a deep breath, counting the cracks in the ceiling until her heart finally stopped bashing against her ribs, her throat burning. Pinprick tears stung her eyes as she fixed her pants, her fingers shaking so hard she could hardly grasp the button. 

Cursing under her breath, Ellie braced her hands on the bathroom sink, her shoulders sagging. Her eyes were rimmed red; she scrubbed her hands over her face roughly, willing her stomach to settle. 

She shouldn’t have been upset, really. The first time your hand had found its way into her pants, all those months ago, you had made it perfectly clear what this was. She could still hear your voice from that night, saccharine sweet and smelling like the whiskey you had nabbed from her cabinet: Come on, Els, Jackson’s so boring. We can just have a little fun, right? She remembered the weight of your body when you climbed onto her lap, your thighs warm on either side of her hips, your hands pressing her back against the couch. She could still feel the way your breath had ghosted over her neck, your voice dripping with honeyed desire: It's just a little fun.

Her own eyes looked so unfamiliar, a stranger peering at her from the bathroom mirror. 

Cursing again, she turned on the faucet, bending to splash water on her face - it was December and the water was so cold it numbed her hands. It was a welcome relief against her burning skin. 

Ellie felt so fucking dirty it hurt. No matter how she scrubbed at her skin, rubbing it raw, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it. The cold water stung her cheeks. 

A knock on the door made her jump, cold water splashing down the front of her shirt. She cursed, pulling the damp fabric away from her chest with a grimace before calling, “Give me a minute, okay?” 

But you had never been very good at listening, had you? You didn’t even look surprised when you pushed the door open, ignoring her protest, and found Ellie leaning against the counter, water still dripping from her chin. If anything, you looked almost amused, quirking an eyebrow at her. It was the look you gave her every time you got her worked up, your eyes showing the laughter you bit back. She fucking hated that look. 

Ellie glared over her shoulder at you, but there was no real malice behind it - even when she hated you, something in her still softened when you were around. A switchblade girl with a cotton candy heart. 

You closed the door softly behind you, leaning back against it with a smug smile that she wanted to wipe off your face - she just wasn’t sure how she wanted to yet. Ellie could hear how your ego tinted your voice when you said, “Joel sent me to check on you. Probably thinks you're barfing your guts out or something.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes, looking away from you and mumbling, “Yeah, I guess dinner didn’t sit well….” 

You scoffed and the sound went straight to her stomach. She felt rather than saw you step behind her; she tensed when you placed your hands on her hips, leaning forward to put your chin on her shoulder. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink so hard she thought the porcelain might crack. She could feel the heat of your body all the way down her back, your hips pressing into her ass, and her traitorous heart fluttered embarrassingly. 

Ellie met your eyes in the reflection, watching as your smile grew into something almost mocking. You placed a kiss on the back of her neck, pressing your words into her skin: “Damn, Els, I didn’t know Dawn of the Wolf got you so hot and bothered.” Your fingers pressed into her hips, pulled her back against you. She failed to smother the sigh it pulled from her. She hated how it made your smile widen, and she hated even more how much she wanted to fucking kiss it off your stupid face. She shivered when she felt your teeth graze over her neck, and almost missed it when you muttered, laughing, “God, you’re so fucking easy, you know that?” 

Ellie shoved away from the counter, spinning on her heel and grabbing your wrist before you could flinch away. You had only blinked before she slammed you back against the wall, praying that Joel didn’t hear it. Her fingers wrapped so tightly around your wrist she could feel your pounding pulse, pressing it to the wall above your head. She slipped her thigh between your legs, pressing up into you, and she only had a moment to register that smug fucking grin before she slapped a hand over your mouth. She relished in the way your eyes flashed in something akin to fear. She had to find wins where she could, right? 

Leaning forward so her nose brushed yours, Ellie growled into the back of her hand, “Don’t make a fucking sound.” 

And she did get to wipe that cocky smile off your face. She kept her hand over your mouth, releasing your wrist to snake her arm between your legs. She muffled your moans, hissing when your nails dug into her biceps. 

Joel was in the next room, she thought distantly. Joel was in the next room, watching the movie he had been so excited to show her. He was in the next room, concerned about her, waiting for her, and here she was pressing her best friend into the wall of his bathroom. She had your pants around your ankles, two - three - fingers pushing into you. She could feel the vibrations of your moans against her hand - she wanted to press her lips to yours and swallow them, knowing you would never let her. 

It came too fast, Ellie pressing into you relentlessly if only to make you fucking shut up for once. Your body shuddered against her, and she wanted to hold you through it, but by the time it was over you were already pushing her away. When her hand fell from your mouth, you were smiling again. Maybe she was going to be sick after all. 

@filtered-sunlight

[deathbecomesthem]

+18 only, MDNI

Sexual content:

I'm thinking about Eddie goading you. You read an article in Cosmo about nipple orgasms, and how men can have them.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of, Sweetheart." The pet name is new territory. He started calling you by it after he caught sight of you in your bikini last month.

"I don't know what to tell you, Ed, this woman is a board certified sexologist-" Eddie cuts you off mide sentence with a giggle, but you soldier on, "-ahem - a board certified sexologist, and she's published articles about it in scientific journals."

"Is it the Western Journal of Titty Play?" Eddie's laughing so hard you can barely make out the word "play", and you roll your eyes.

"You idiot. Don't knock it til you try it." You say, trying desperately not to think about what it would be like to try it with Eddie.

"Well, Sweetheart, I'm willing to bet real cash money that it's not possible. Maybe you can try it on your next date with Harrington." Eddie's smile doesn't falter when he makes the jab, but there's a look somewhere deep in his eyes that betray his thoughts.

"Fuck Harrington," you sigh and wave your hand, "not like that. He didn't call me back last week. I'm sick of his shit." Steve Harrington is hot, but you refuse to get hung up on someone that used to refer to himself as The King.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter. My point is - guys need a little more," Eddie clears his throat, "attention below the belt, ya know? I mean, a little nipple play can be very nice."

You feel yourself heating up at his words. You shift your hips, hopefully imperceivably. You can't help but imagine Eddie's full lips wrapped around your sensitive nipples. You risk a glance at those lips, and catch Eddie's gaze. It's a shot to your gut.

"I think it's just hard for a guy to give up control like that. At least, that's been my experience. They wanna hold you down, but the thought of having to lay back and let go like that? Nah." You're shaking your head at the thought.

"You'd be surprised, Sweetheart." His words are almost a low growl. He's not looking at you anymore, he's looking past you. He's lost in a thought. When he speaks again, it's quiet. It's pushed out in a rush, like he needs to spit the idea out of his mouth, "I bet you couldn't make me cum like that."

Eddie's frame tenses. He's braced for your response. Will you laugh it off? Will you call him an idiot and change the subject? Will you get uncomfortable and walk out of his place, never wanting to be alone with him again?

"Fine. Take your shirt off and lay down. $5 says I can do it in less than 10 minutes."

[literaila]

do you ever think reader would storm out of the house after a fight between her & satoru? (referring to ur keeping secrets fic.) i feel like part of her wouldn’t bc she’s also thinking about the kids and she just can’t leave them, but she also seems a lot more grounded than satoru in general. i think the other part of her would also need a minute to step out for a bit bc i just know satoru drives her to insanity. i don’t knoww, satoru’s reaction to her storming out just infects my brain, but i know she couldn’t do that to megumi and tsumiki </3 i’m such a sucker for your hurt/comfort fics

“where are you going?”

“not sure,” satoru says, barely mumbling. “i didn’t ask.”

“you didn’t ask?”

he looks at you, just a glimmer of teasing in his eyes. but the rest of him is apprehensive—he knows what you’re thinking.

he always does.

but he looks back down, shoving shirts into a suitcase in the worst possible way.

“does it matter?” he asks, dryly. “it’s just another work trip.”

“how long are you going to be gone?”

“however long it takes to—“

“can i come with you?”

satoru pauses, and his eyes trail to you.

to you, where you’re standing in the doorway. you only know he’s leaving because of the suitcase, you only know that you can’t deal with him being gone again because of that feeling.

it’s reminiscent of packing your own bag at fifteen. of never returning home.

“you want to come?” satoru’s voice is too smooth, too unserious. “you hate planes. and what about work? you want to take your students too?”

“how long are you going to be gone?”

satoru sighs. he finally relents, walking over to you. his smile is a little irritated, tired. “it won’t take long,” he says, rubbing your shoulders. “you’ll get the bed all to yourself.”

“this is the fourth trip in the last three months.”

he tilts his head. “it’s the same amount as always.”

“it’s—“ you stop.

it’s different.

and your heart is racing, because you’re used to this feeling.

really, satoru has taken regular work trips for as long as you’ve known him. his passport is well used, his suitcase replaced almost once a year.

but it’s different.

because it used to be you, satoru, and the kids. it used to be you and the kids waiting at the door, talking about him behind his back, going to the airport to pick him up.

and even if you missed him, you knew that tsumiki missed him just as much. you knew that megumi was waiting for him to come back just the same—getting restless without someone there to mess with constantly.

it used to be you and the kids, when satoru was gone.

but now…

megumi is at school all week—and even when he comes home, it’s only to keep you happy. so that he can take a break from jujutsu, and sleeping in a dorm right next to yuji’s.

and tsumiki—

you stop thinking about that almost immediately.

it’s just not worth it.

when satoru leaves, you’re all alone.

“i wish you could come. you know how the higher ups are about—“

“why don’t you tell them no?”

satoru is wearing his blindfold, so you can’t see his eyes. but you see it as he leans back, looking at you curiously. “what?”

“tell them no. they’re scared of you, aren’t they? they’re not going to make you—“

“what other special grade sorcerer are they going to send?” he asks, shaking his head. “i hate them too, but if they need me—“

“i need you.”

satoru stops. you want to see his eyes—you want him to stay here.

you don’t want to walk around the house and chat with ghosts. you don’t want to be the only one left behind—the only one who has nothing else.

what about you? what’s supposed to happen to you when satoru leaves you behind?

he’s done it before, and he’ll do it again.

“what?”

“i don’t understand why you have to go,” you say, and you’re angry now. “i’m tired of your work trips, and i hate that you don’t even care, and i hate being in the house all alone—“

“what? what do you mean i don’t care?”

you pull away from him. just to do it first. “you don’t even try to get someone else to do it, you just leave—“

“why are you blaming me? i didn’t ask for this.”

“because you’re always gone! and i’m always alone, and you haven’t even asked me how i feel about it—“

“it’s not like i enjoy doing it,” he says, frowning. “i don’t like leaving you or the kids, it’s just work—“

“i think you do enjoy it,” you spit. and you know that you shouldn’t but, “you like being the only one that they can call. being the strongest. that’s why you haven’t told them no, that’s why—“

“what?”

“is it fun to leave the house? to escape for a week or two while i’m here to take care of everything?”

satoru scoffs. “are you kidding?”

“what? you can admit it. go on and leave. you’ve done it before, satoru.”

his jaw clenches. “if you don’t like being here,” he says, so soft—but you can feel it. the impending blow. “then go somewhere else.”

immediately, your body flinches back. you fall inwards, wanting nothing more than to fall back against him.

but it’s too late.

“i can’t help that im the strongest, i don’t enjoy leaving you—but ill do it because it’s my job. if you hate being alone, then find something else. go see megumi, or nanami, or—“

you take a step back, almost stumbling into the wall.

“you’re putting words in my mouth and i—“

but you don’t hear the rest of that sentence.

and maybe this is your fault. you shouldn’t have picked a fight, you shouldn’t have even said anything.

satoru isn’t to blame for your loneliness. he isn’t to blame for anything.

you turn around. and you walk out the door with shaking hands.

go somewhere else, he said.

and you will.

[nattikay]

bedtime

NOTE: stä'noli should be stolä'ni, that was a pretty rudimentary mistake and I'm not really sure what was going on in my brain when I wrote it but 😅 maybe i'll fix it on the image later but i can't be bothered right this minute, i'm already up way later than I should be as is (have an early day tomorrow)

Further language notes/rambling under the cut!

"wait, isn't Jake supposed to be spelled Tsyeyk in Na'vi?" Yes it is! And if I'd given that line to a monolingual Na'vi speaker I would've spelled it that way. BUT Neytiri is bilingual and does not pronounce it "Tsyeyk" (I mean, technically she doesn't say "Jake" either, it's more like "Zheyk" but w/e). So for her specifically I keep the j. I suppose at that point I could've just kept the English spelling completely, but leaving silent letters at the end like that makes things weird in written Na'vi given all the grammatical endings that can be applied (not that that matters in this comic because they weren't needed for the line but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Speaking of Jake, writing Na'vi dialogue for him is fun to me because he's not a native speaker which means I'm free to give him all sorts of beginner habits and/or mistakes, especially given that by his own admission he struggled learning the language. However, since I'm working within a pretty broad time frame, I had to remind myself that he wouldn't be a beginner forever.

I bring this up because there are two aspects of Jake's dialogue here that I was going to point out as...well, not wrong, but as more "English-y" habits I'd headcanoned he might hang on to...but on further reflection changed my mind because I realized that at the time of this comic he's been living with the Omatikaya for nearly ten years and would be pretty much fluent. I still left it written that way but am no longer headcanoning that that's ~just how he talks~ at this point in his life. After all, if I'm conscious of these habits after just two years of studying the language as a casual hobby, is it really believable that he'd be clinging to them after nearly a decade of full daily immersion, even with his self-admitted struggle with language learning? 😅

Anyways, for the sake of rambling about my hobby regardless, one of these aspects was using SVO word order, like English. Na'vi is a free-word-order language, so SVO is valid, but most Na'vi speakers are not going to stick to it exclusively. I think Jake, like many native-English-speaking learners, may have relied on this word order earlier on because that's just how his brain has been wired to process information, but at this point I think just by sheer exposure he'd have broken out of any strict adherence to it, intentional or otherwise.

The other thing is concerning possessive. The standard Na'vi grammatical ending for possessive is -yä. But Na'vi grammar also includes a concept called inalienable possession, which refers to things that are intrinsically yours and cannot be given away. What exactly qualifies as inalienable varies between languages that have such a concept, but with Na'vi it's most commonly seen with body parts. Inalienable possession can be marked with -yä, but there is a slight preference to mark it with the topical, -ri, instead. So, compare:

Peyä mehinam lu ngim. His legs are long. Pori mehinam lu ngim. His legs are long (lit. "concerning him, the legs are long")

Both of these are considered acceptable, but the -ri version is considered just slightly "better" (for lack of a better term).

You'll notice that Jake uses peyä instead of pori here; this was because the peyä structure is a more direct equivalent to the English construction, so it's pretty common for new learners to use it instead of -ri. And again it's not wrong, so it's not exactly a mistake per se. So it seemed like a reasonable "Englishy-but-still-technically-correct" habit for Jake to hang on to. And I do still think that may well have been in the case...in his earlier years 😅

soooo yeah. I will still probably be giving Jake some of those speaking habits in comics and such that take place only 2-3 years after A1, but once you get to around 10 years like this one...yeah I think it'll make more sense to just write his dialogue like that of any other fluent Na'vi-speaking character lol

[riniworld]

heart stealer

yandere! crown prince x maid! reader

warning|| mention of an injury+blood, humiliating(not to reader),i guess that's it?

reference|| you,she/her,y/n(one time),maid.

a/n|| i planed on making it longer but i lost motivation to complete it (╯︵╰,)

you've been raised in this castle,your parents were servants under the royal family,your father was the head butler but your mother was an ordinary maid.

and you inherited this from them,at age 18,after a year from the death of the emperor and his wife,you became a maid working along side with your mother.

month after month you have been chosen by the court to become the personal maid of the crown prince himself.

you don't know if you should be excited or anxious,you've never meet the crown prince but you did hear a few things about him and it wasn't pleasing at all.

plus,it will be more work for you by this time as the royal coronation ceremony is close.

standing nervously outside the crown prince's room,you inhale a deep breath as you knock on the door,after two minute a "come in" was heard from the inside,you step inside and stand by the door waiting for him to notice you.

he was sitting on the edge of the window,his sword in his lap as he wip the blade, he glanced at you for a brief moment.

"who are you?" he asked as he return his attention to the sword.

you bow " I will be your personal maid from now on,your royal highness, i would try my very best to please you."

taron hummed in acknowledge "very well," he walked up to you and threw the sword at you "Clean it well."

"oh...ah! as you wish your highness!." you bow and run to clean it.

the next few days went the same, weird requests, trying to please him, and on above of all of that is the preparation for the royal coronation ceremony.

he wasn't interested in anything of it, not the choice of the clothes nor the food that has to be served, the food problem can easily be solved but the clothes, the accessories that all have to be his choice and you,as his personal maid, need to help him with these things but if you can't see him how can you help him??

you know he spend most of his time on the training ground, but it's forbidden for servants to go to this ground so you can't do anything but wait.

one day you stayed in his room after the work hours, you were determined to make him do what he has to.

but to your surprise he returns with an injury, you couldn't see how serious it is but you rush to his side, it was involuntary reaction (i don't know if that's true)

"your highness!,what happened?." you stops close to him but you don't dare to touch him.

taron glares at you clearly pissed "what the heck are you doing here until now?" you can hear the tireness in his voice.

"your highness,let me patch i-" "i do not like to repeat myself."

"i-i was waiting for you to return..." you back away a little in obedience.

taron heads to the bed with a groan and sits on the edge "you can go now then."

"let me patch your wound first."

"what did i say?."

"i know, but your highness...you are bleeding and it is my duty to help you.." you mumble the last part.

taron sighed "how annoying." he say under his breath.

you took this as an approval and take a closer steps to him, you sit down beside him and looks at him asking for approval to touch him, he turn to his side.

you couldn't help the faint smile that plays on your lips when he shows that side of him, he was always putting the tough face but in the few hours you got to spend with him through the days you've worked in under him you've come to know that he has a soft spot but he doesn't show it.

you hesitantly lift his clothes off and takes it to his bathroom and searched for few things that could help him until a doctor comes to him tomorrow.

finally you found alcohol and a white rag that you think it's clean. you return to him quickly putting the alcohol on the rag.

"This might sting,your highness, tell me if i hurt you."

taron scoff "you think something like that is going to hurt me?"

"oh-uh i did not mean to offense you in any way,your hi-!."

"just do your job."

you shut your mouth and begin wrapping the rag around his wound carefully, it was pretty awkward, taron didn't move nor talked, he was just looking in the space in front of him.

you couldn't help stealing glances from time to time, his body isn't that muscular, but his skill in sword is incredible, or that what you've heard.

you were lost in thought that you didn't notice your hand still laying on taron's body when you've finished.

taron moved your hands away jolting you out of your thoughts "are you done?"

your face redned in embarrassment and you stand up quickly taking a step away "i-yes, i wish you a quick recovery, now if you will excuse me, your highness."

taron nodded and you get out the room heading to the servants' suite. taron groan and lay down on the bed, putting his hand where was yours, the only thing he didn't get as an soon-to-be-emperor is affection wich you gave just now, and it's a foreign feelings to him.

the next day you make your day to the crown prince to check on him and to call a doctor, but when you entre the room you see at least eight of nurses and a doctor around him, you hurry to his side asking one of the nurses.

"what happening? is his highness okay?"

"oh miss, who are you?"

"I'm-..I'm his personal maid."

"ah very well you might give information....when did his highness get injured?."

"yesterday he came covered in blood, and i, myself,treated his injury."

"....oh no miss, so you are the one who bandaged it with this rag?" the nurse holded the rag to you.

"i am, it was clean, as i saw it."

"well, it was not, and his injury got effected."

"what?! is he okay now?!"

"i do not know what will happen after, but for now he has a high fever."

you gasped in horror, what if something happened to him?? then you'll be the killer of the only royal blood, your life will end there.

the next three days, taron didn't wake up, and you didn't leave him, yes there was always a nurse beside him, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave him, one because you need to make sure he'll stay alive for your life, and second there's just this feeling that toging you to stay by his side, so you stayed either working in the room or taking the nurse's place while they rest.

he sometimes would call names, like his brother's or some foreign names to you, but he never called his parents name,weird, is it a sin that you wanted to be one of these names?

rumors spreaded quickly within the castle, and everyone was talking about 'how the soon-to-be-emperor maid tried to kill him' you couldn't walk comfortably in the castle, everyone was giving you the nasty star and worse sometimes they talk shit to you or even hurt you, and what are you going to do to stop all that? everything scream that you tried to kill taron.

the forth day, exactly at noon, you were cleaning the desks when you heard a groan from taron, you hurried to his side thinking he got worse or uncomfortable, but when you got to his side, his eyes were opening, you didn't waste a time to call for the nurse as they were eating.

"thank god you woke up, your highness, we do not know what we would have done if you did not wake up." the nurse says as she checks on his temperature

"how many days have i been asleep?" taron asks, he closed his eyes from the sun, and you run to close the curtain.

"for three and a half now, your highness."

you can hear taron curses under his breath when he hear that, he turn his head and looked at you, raising his eyebrow as 'what are you doing here?'.

the nurse cleared their throat, and you knew where was that going to, you looked down in shame.

"your highness, this maid is the reason you are in this state, her dumb mistake to bandage your injury with a rag put you in danger." the nurse explained with a harsh tone

you started to tear up, you don't want to die nor you want taron to think bad of you, "your highness, i-i was too worried i wanted to stop the bleeding quickly i did not know it would....get to this." your voice cracked at the last sentence as you looked in taron's eyes, you know this is not an enough excuse, but how can you defend yourself in any other way? telling the truth is the only thing you can do.

taron stared intensely at you for a moment before a smile cracked his face, why is he smiling? have you said something funny?

"that's just an unbelie-"

"enough" taron cut the nurse off in annoyance,turning his his head to the selling "your yapping make my head hurt get out." you didn't quite know who he was talking to, but it was obvious wasn't it?

"well? what are you waiting for?" the nurse shouted at you.

"not her, you." taron point at the nurse

"...m-me? as you wish your highness." the nurse bow and left.

you start getting anxious, wondering why did he kept you here, are you in a problem? what a stupid question of course you are, taron isn't a forgiving person that for sure.

taron tried to sit up with a groan and you rush to his side to help him, after his sit comfortably he speak "trying to kill me, are we?." he joked.

"i swear i did not mean to,your highness!" you said quickly in fear.

taron only giggled softly, his dimple showing up, you stared mesmeraisedly at him, it was rare to see him smile or laugh that what you learned from the old servants, but to see this sight it was worth everything, "i know you would not dare do it." taron say.

"really? you believe me, your highness?!" you asked in relief.

"of course, a weak coward and naive maid like you would not even kill a fly."

"oh-at least you could have said it more kindly.." you thought. "i appreciate that you believe me, your highness." you say in happiness, after all if the soon-to-be-emperor believes you that's enough.

taron's smile fades away, did he lost himself with a mere maid? he can't believe what he's doing, you're really starting to get to him. he laid down back and cover his head with the blanket "close the curtain and get out." he ordered.

you did what he told you, despite his tone, nothing can change your mood now, before you can set your foot outside the room taron speaks again "and come tomorrow by the evening to complete the preparation for the ceremony.", your face lit up "gladly!" you say a bit loud.

"she is adorable." taron thought as you made your way out

you were heading to your mother to tell her that you've finally made the heir prince do what he has to.

the next morning you were too excited to prepare for the ceremony with taron that no one could change your happy mood not even the shitty talk around and about you.

you were heading to taron's room holding breakfast for him when suddenly a maid stopped you, she looks old.

"is that for his royal highness?" she asks firmly.

you nod "it is."

"get it back to the kitchen, no one can trust what you have put in it." she demanded like she's your boss.

"what? are you implying that i poisoned it?" you start to get angry, that's starting to get too much.

"you are not trustworthy, i do not know why the curt kept you untill now."

"that just prove that they see me more trusting than anyone here, even than the old ones!" you raised your voice a bit.

"you already tried to get rid of his royal highness once."

"that-! i did not-..." your voice trail on the end, what will you say? no one will believe you.

"now take it back to the kitchen if you may." she said coldly

you lower your head and went back to the kitchen putting the breakfast on the table frustrating, you've had enough of all of this, should you tell taron about that? maybe he'll help you...

other maids has cooked a new break and escort you to taron's room so they'll make sure your wouldn't "put something in it".

taron noticed your fallen face when you put his breakfast, you usually have a smile on your face whenever you're around him, you start rambling around in the room, getting outfits ready or organizing things in the room, taron couldn't help glancing in your direction ever so often, you just seemed...off?.

"what got into you? why do you even care? focus taron! " taron thought with himself,his eyes darting to you again "....there is no wrong in asking though, i have the right to do."

with that he grabbed your wrist when you walked closer to his reach "what is with you?" he sounded angry rather than concerning "i did not want it to sound like that! "

you hesitated to tell him about what happened earlier "no it is noth-" you cut yourself off, why would you cover their act up? if the crown prince himself is asking what is wrong, you should take this to your advantage "...your highness...the servants and the maids are treating me badly, they call me...names, and earlier before i bring the breakfast to you, one of the old maid stopped me and she forced me to go throw the food that i made.." you explained.

taron didn't say a thing but you could feel his grip on your wrist tighten, a second later taron was dragging you along with him heading to the hall, he stopped by your father, the head butler and told him to announce that he want every single servant and maid to come to the main hall, your father looked at you worriedly, you shrugged mouthing "i don not know" he seems to relax a bit when he sees that you're not scared or seem in trouble, your father bow in respect and went to do what taron told him.

taron dragged you to the main hall, where the throne was he climbed near it, and tugged on you to get up there with him, but you refused you couldn't just go near the throne could you?

"your highness, i do not think this is a proper thing to do!"

"you are going to teach me what is proper and what is not?" he says a bit mockingly.

"no..that is not what i meant.." you mutter.

taron sigh and roll his eyes before he pulls you over to him, you stumble into him and he wrap his hand around your shoulders, you tried to get away a little bit but taron squeezed your shoulder when he felt you slip, for a moment he only star at you before he exhale sharply and say something under his breath that you couldn't quite catch then he let go of you and sit on his throne.

before you can ask anything the room start to be filled with the servants, you catch your mother eyes looking at you worriedly, you smile at her in reassure.

taron clear his throat to get everyone's attention.

"..I have heard...there is someone who have been harassing my maid." he pauseed for a second, "do you all have a problem with her?" he suddenly took your hand and put it near his lips as he looked at you "Because from my side, I don't mind if she is the one who wants to kill me." you were so in shock to respond or do anything, taron then looked at the crowd without letting your hand "do you have something to say?" when no one said anything taron continue "If I hear that anyone bothered her again, they will meet the blade of my sword....everyone may leave now but the maids that on the kitchen."

the crowd start to leave,leaving the ones who work in the kitchen and the woman tha- "tell me who bothered you earlier." taron demanded

"...your highness it is not necessary anymore-" "did i stutter? tell me who is she."

you pointed hesitantly at the woman and she looked at you with wide eyes filled with fear, the next thing you knew, taron made her apologize on her knees in front of you.

what have you got yourself into?

have a nice day/night♡

[mytheoristavenue]

BES Mizu x Single Mother!Reader HCs

Summary: How a relationship with Mizu would work with a kid running around.

Warnings: fem!reader, fem/masc representations of your child, child is from an abusive marriage, mentions of violence, mentions of mariticide.

⭐ Surprisingly, it was actually Ringo who inducted you and your child into the party during a time when he was separated from Mizu, coming across you having trouble getting into a village without a man to validate your travel pass.

⭐ After leaving that village, he insisted you both come along with him and, by extension, Mizu on their journey. You hardly had anything to leave behind, so you thought you had nothing to lose.

⭐"Oh, absolutely not." Needless to say, Mizu was none too thrilled about now having to take on the burden of a frail woman and an even more fragile child. "Ringo, take them back to wherever you picked them up from, we don't take on stays."

⭐ They bickered about the subject for a while, until Mizu eventually relented, deciding she'd simply dump you both off at the next village.

⭐ To her surprise, you knew a few trades, and your child wasn't as useless as she anticipated. You both could cook fairly well, forage with mostly success, and even sew. More often than not, after an altercation, Mizu would find you staying up late around the campfire, mending someone's clothes (often her's).

⭐️ Your child is also incredibly well behaved, obeying nearly any order they're given, and almost never whiny, unless hungry or tired. Mizu was relieved to see she wouldn't be traveling with a spoiled brat like the kids she'd grown up with.

⭐️ Eventually, Mizu began to appreciate you both for your company and contributions, even missing you when not in your presence. She did try to deny this for as long as possible, though.

⭐️ At some point, this appreciation grew into affection and even care. Mizu would become agitated if someone upset you, or came too close. She even once called your child her own when they ran into trouble in a passed village.

⭐️ "Get your hands off my (son/daughter/child) or you'll pull back a stump."

⭐️ Your child came back from that trip glued to Mizu's side and hasn't let go since. The feeling is genuinely mutual.

⭐️ Mizu sometimes brings things back for you both when she goes into villages without you. For your child, it's usually a toy or something sweet. For you, it could be anything from a new fabric or article of clothing to a personal keepsake. She ones brought you back a gold hair stick with beads of jade, for example.

⭐ She will insist that you and the child both learn some kind of self-defense, claiming she can't always be there to protect you, but she secretly hopes to pass down her swordsmanship to your child, as well as her blade.

⭐ Your body is a marvel to her. She has such a masculine and (by her standards) unhospitable body, that seeing your plump curves and stretch marks thrills her. She thinks your body was made perfectly with childbirth in mind.

⭐ Mizu refers to you as her wife in front of strangers and becomes increadibly hostile if that notion is questioned, or if anything ill is said to or about you.

⭐ "I think you'll find steeping away from my wife in your best interest, lest you find yourself interested in becoming another notch in my blade."

⭐Your relationship never really became offical, it still came to be over time. She never officially ocnfessed or asked for you to be hers, she just kissed you one day after months of mutal pining and it became so.

⭐ She came to see you, and only you, after being presumed dead, and before shipping off to London. Very quickly, she kissed you, told you to tell (C/N) that she's otu there somewhere and will be back, and asked you to promise to marry her whens she returns.

⭐ You say yes, in return, making her to come back safely, remidnign her that she had a wife and child that need her.

[vettelsvee]

AFTERGLOW | Mick Schumacher

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

mick schumacher x vettel!reader

summary: mick's girlfriend knows that something's wrong with him. after talking to her dad and her stepmother, she decides to face her boyfriend.

word count: 2956

warnings: angst. bad language. mick being aggressive. use of y/n.

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

If Sebastian's retirement announcement had hurt you, the way you boyfriend had been acting towards you, for no apparent reason, hurt even more. 

You were on you father's terrace, with your legs stretched out on a chair in front of you and the sun shining on your face as you watched the latest news about Taylor Swift. Beside you, Hanna was tending to her baby, who was in her arms playing with a small plush toy you bought her that surprisingly become her favorite. Sebastian appeared out of nowhere carrying a tray full of snacks and drinks, which he carefully placed on the table before immediately caressing the heads of the women in his life. The German sat beside his wife facing you, his eldest daughter.

As much as you enjoyed visiting your family for no reason, today's visit had a reason with a name and surname: Mick Schumacher. Since both of you had finally decided to start a romantic relationship, everything had been a bed of roses. However, the past few weeks have been hell. The boy's behavior towards you had changed radically. What used to be a daily routine filled with laughter, gratitude and support had turned into distance and avoidance, as if they you college students living together during the school year because they had no other choice.

Before starting to speak, you poured yourself some lemonade that Vettel had made hours earlier with her, and took a slight sip despite being really thirsty. You felt nervous as you began to initiate the conversation, but the warm looks you father and stepmother were giving you helped you relax.

"I need to share something with you," you began, "because if I don't tell someone, I feel like I'm going to end everything I've fought for all this time. Plus, I feel like you're the ones who can help me the most in this regard," you added.

The couple exchanged curious looks, not knowing what you were referring to. Any idea passed through Hanna's mind, while the Aston Martin driver could only think of the possibility that his little one might be pregnant. Hanna could see the panic in her husband's face; she simply placed her free hand on the German's thigh and gently caressed it, trying to calm him down. They shouldn't jump to conclusions too quickly, and that seemed to be what his wife was telling him as she gave Sebastian a glance.

"I've noticed that Mick has been behaving very strangely lately," you began to explain. "I don't know what's going on in his head, but we hardly talk, we don't usually go out of the house like we used to and... well, let's say we don't show as much affection to each other anymore," you said apologetically, trying not to get angry at the laughter your father was making. "I feel like the Mick I've known all this time has been just a mirage, and I don't know what to do about it."

Sebastian and Hanna exchanged knowing looks, and the woman let him speak first.

"Y/N, I understand what you mean, but you have to know the pressure Mick faces daily," the blonde explained lovingly. "Formula 1 is like that: it doesn't just drag you, but also those you love the most. Your boyfriend has many eyes on him, and as if that weren't enough, he bears the responsibility of carrying on his father's legacy."

The older blonde agreed with her husband. She passed the little one to Seb, got up quickly and sat next to you,now cry out of frustration, and started to caress your hair lovingly as a comfort.

"Your father is right, Y/N, and I have to agree with him because I've been with him for almost twenty years," Hanna commented. "Every person has a completely different way of dealing with stress. Sebastian used to yell at me every time he breathed, and look," she pointed at him, "here we are. Some people open up to anyone they meet, and others shut themselves off to avoid worrying those they love the most," she stated. "Just because Mick isn't like he was a few weeks ago doesn't mean his feelings towards you have changed. Sometimes, they just need space and a little time to silence the demons in their heads."

You nodded, taking a sip from the glass you held in your hands to calm your nerves. You let out a sigh you had been holding in for quite some time, worried about the possible reaction the two in front of you might have. They continued to talk about more trivial matters, and that conversation, although short, had been very meaningful, was set aside, although not for the girl, who continued to torture herself wondering what she could do to make Mick feel better while listening to talk about baby care and nurseries.

"Thank you, dad. Thank you, Hanna," you replied, getting up from your seat and looking at the adults. "I guess I needed the advice of someone who might have gone through the same thing as I am right now," you objected. "I promise I'll do my best not to despair anymore. I'll let you know when I know more."

The couple got up shortly after you, already heading towards the door, possibly to return to the apartment you shared with Schumacher. Sebastian, still holding the baby, opened the door, unable to say anything else. Hanna, on the other hand, smiled warmly at you and gave you a hug.

"Remember, we're here for you, sweetheart," your father's wife said kindly. "Communication is key in any relationship. If you see that Mick is still not ready to talk about it, give him space, but don't forget to remind him that you're there for whatever he needs."

You nodded and left the residence, leaving the driver and his wife somewhat worried about what could happen between you two.

You opened the door to your home with trembling hands, feeling a pressure in your chest from the concern about the scene your eyes would encounter as soon as you entered.

The first thing that greeted you was the sound of hooves scratching the parquet floor, which soon grew louder as Angie approached rapidly to welcome you home again. You bent down, leaving your belongings aside, and took some time to caress your furry friend, whom you had grown fond of since the moment her owner introduced her to you. While admiring the way the animal's tail moved, you began to hear the running water from the shower, a sign that Mick was home, as you had hoped.

Sitting on the couch and staring at the TV, whose screen was filled with deceptive advertisements for food and clothing, you heard a door open and steps that seemed to be approaching you. You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for what was about to come when you saw her boyfriend walk past you, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another smaller towel.

You decided that things couldn't go on like this, so you approached the boy more angrily than you thought, who was preparing dinner, obviously, just for himself.

"Yes, love, I had a great time with Seb and Hanna. Thanks for asking how my day went!" you shouted sarcastically.

Schumacher turned around, leaving the wooden spoon on the bowl in which his salad was being prepared. Your face was fully red, and your aggressive demeanor reminded him of Sebastian's moments of fury at Red Bull. The German looked at you coldly, and you only felt his blue eyes radiating hatred, something you had never seen in the boy before.

If you weren't up for games that night, neither was Mick.

"I don't care how your day went," the blue-eyed one responded disdainfully, "but if you had such a great time with your perfect family, maybe you should consider moving in with them."

The driver’s statement hurt you more than if you had been stabbed in the stomach. You couldn't believe the words coming out of the mouth of the one you considered the love of your life. When you opened your mouth to reply and yell a thousand worse things at him, the words got stuck in your throat. Schumacher made a move to leave, but you reluctantly took his hand to keep talking to him. For you, things weren't going to stay like this. 

"After everything we've been through to get here, is this how you're paying me back?!" you exploded, releasing all the anger you had accumulated. "Is this the way you planned to treat me from the beginning?"

The driver turned to you, his jaw tense. His arms were crossed, and he was squeezing his clenched fists tighter and tighter.

"I don't know what you're talking about, blondie," he spat with disdain. "If you feel so bad, maybe you should reconsider what this relationship means to you."

You approached him with fury, and began to hit him in the chest with your hands. You were tired of, at any point in your life, the people she loved the most ending up hurting her.

"You have no idea what you mean to me!" you got closer and closer to Mick, who seemed to feel small compared to you. "You became my everything when I had nothing, but now you've become a stranger with whom it would seem ridiculous to say that I've shared traumas from my life that no one knows."

"You have no right to judge me, Y/N!" roared the boy with a voice filled with aggression. "You don't know what I have to face every day: criticism, expectations, my father, you, the team..." He raised his hands in the air as he spoke. "Do you think it's easy being in this messed up world?"

"It's not just about you, Mick!" you exclaimed, tears starting to blur your vision. "It's about us and everything we've been through together!"

Words continued to fly in the room, laden with pain and anger, exchanged between the couple as if in a tennis match. You had reached a point where the argument wasn't focused on trying to resolve whatever was happening between you, but on hurting each other with hurtful comments, fighting to see who could inflict more damage.

"This makes no sense, Y/N," Mick shouted in frustration. His gaze was filled with panic and accumulated anger. He felt it increasingly difficult, at that point in the argument, to contain his rage.

"Love, please, calm down," your voice trembled. "We're not getting anywhere, just giving the neighbors a free show that we'll regret later," you pleaded.

Schumacher didn't relent. He felt a wave of helplessness washing over his body. He reached out his muscular arm and grabbed the first object he could find, a frame with a picture of him with you and Angie on a day you spent in the mountains, and threw it against the wall mercilessly. The sound of impact and shattering glass echoed throughout the room, accompanied by the sobs and gasps of air from the young woman.

You couldn't help but step back, feeling increasing pressure in your chest and filled with fear. You knew the boy was losing control of the situation, and you were afraid it would escalate to physical violence against you. You had experienced that kind of abuse with your mother, and you didn't want to relive it with the same person who once told you that love didn't hurt.

"Mick, stop, this isn't you!" you cried out in anguish. "What's wrong with you?"

The German clenched his fists tighter.

"I've already told you, Y/N: you don't understand! You can't possibly understand. The pressure, the expectations... it's all overwhelming," he sighed anxiously, "and I feel like it's going to break me at any moment."

You approached him slowly, but at a safe distance, in an attempt to calm him down that you hoped wouldn't be in vain.

"We're in this together, sweetheart. Why don't you confide in me instead of shouting at me like a madman in an asylum?"

"Because I don't want you involved in this," Mick looked at you with a mix of anger and pain. "You've had enough worries in your life already."

You went cold, speechless in response. The blonde seemed to have calmed down. Now, his gaze begged you to keep speaking because, if not, he would go crazy at any moment.

"Mick, I love you," you continued as best you could, "and that means I want to be there for you, even in the toughest moments. You can't expect me to walk away when you need me the most."

"It's not that simple, Y/N," the driver paced back and forth, seeking a way to remedy everything he had caused during those weeks of tormenting Gunther. "The pressure is overwhelming, and the comparisons with my father are becoming less bearable," he confessed. "People don't care how hard I try. They always end up making me feel like I’m not good enough."

The blonde took a deep breath, struggling to keep calm while seeing that the root of the problem was surfacing:

"And how do you expect our relationship to work if you shut yourself off? I can't guess what's going on in your head if you don't tell me," you said in a barely audible whisper.

"Because I don't want to be a burden to you!" he retorted. "I don't want you to see me as a failure."

Determined to end all the fuss, you took a step forward and, despite the boy's protests, ended up taking his hands and directing his gaze to yours.

"Mick, you're not a failure: you're human," you said. "Making more or fewer mistakes is completely normal, and I'm here to support you and make you see that," you expressed sincerely. "I don't care what people think or say about you. To me, you'll always be the best at what you do, and there won't be a comment that will change my mind."

He looked at you. Angie had clumsily approached the boy's leg, stroking him and causing him some tickles with her fur, something that made you laugh in that moment of tension.

"What do you want me to do, Y/N? How can I move forward with all this?",

Feeling her resistance beginning to dissipate, you rushed to give him a hug, something the boy didn't reject. You both had missed each other, and the gentle caresses you shared in that brief moment were proof of that.

"Start by trusting me. Share what worries you and what you're afraid of. You don't have to fight alone: you know I'm here for whatever you need."

Mick, with his eyes full of tears threatening to fall, held you tightly to his chest, trying not to hurt you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered with a trembling voice, "for everything. My contract with Haas... it's over. Gunther doesn't trust me for next year."

You quickly pulled away from Mick. You had been left in suspense, and your boyfriend's pale face had already given you many clues, such as why he had told you before the cooling of your relationship that he didn't want to continue racing, or how Seb's retirement didn't affect him as much as you had thought it would.

Mick had faced very painful and traumatic experiences, such as his father's accident. However, although his dismissal might seem less significant than the former, for his girlfriend, it was more serious because there was nothing worse than someone compromising your mental health, and that was exactly what Gunther Steiner had been doing to her guy.

You approached him with slow steps and hugged him once again.

"Darling..." you whispered, trying to sound as understanding as possible. "It's okay, alright? Gunther doesn't deserve you. Besides, I'm sure that when something bad ends, something better begins."

Schumacher collapsed into your arms, tears finally escaping from his eyes. The mask he had been wearing for all the previous weeks had finally shattered, revealing a vulnerable version of himself that he didn't want you to discover.

"I feel like a failure," the blonde sobbed with a choked tone due to the tears. "I've fought so hard, I've given everything I have even when I couldn't anymore... and it seems like it's never enough."

You hugged him tighter, tenderly, hearing the boy's quick heartbeats loud and clear.

"You're not a failure, Mick," you revealed to him. "You have so much talent and you can do great things, it's just that you started your career in a crappy team with even crappier treatment," the boy laughed, music to your ears. "This is just a bump in the road, and you and I are going to get through it together."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, love," Mick looked at you tenderly, mentally regretting his behavior over the past few weeks.

"I'll always be here for you, truly," you continued, gently stroking his cheek. "You're so much more than race results, and I won't stop telling you until you believe it, even when you get tired of hearing me say it so much!"

You ended up laughing heartily, initiated by Mick. Maybe you weren't the perfect duo in the eyes of others, but you were for yourselves and those who knew you best.

If the invisible string theory was real, you and Mick were proof of it. You could even say the same about the multiverse hypothesis: in this one, and in millions more, a stubborn blonde couple, no matter the problems you had to face, would end up together, whatever it took.

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 9 - Consequences~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: After a night of pure bliss with Alastor, you both turn your attention to the ever growing list of things to do. You part ways and head out to find a new potential contract but encounter more than you bargained for. It becomes clear that your actions have repercussions, and you find yourself confronting the consequences head-on.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, mentions of blood/bodily harm, slow burn, eventual smut, and of course 18+

A/N: I really struggled with this chapter so if you enjoyed, please let me know! It was rewritten at least six times.

3.7k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 (You're on it!)

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

The sound of distant crickets wakes you. Though your mind is awake, you keep still with your eyes closed. Did last night even happen? Was it just some drunken dream? Arms pull you into a warm body, pleasantly reminding you that this was far from a dream. Alastor nestles his face into the crook of your neck, cooing as he tightens his grip around you. “Squeeze any tighter and I might pop.” you giggle quietly to not disturb the peaceful morning. 

“Hmm then so be it.” he mumbles, still sounding half asleep. His deep, unfiltered voice sends a hot rush down your back. It was unusual for him to actually sleep but after the eventful night, you both were blissfully exhausted. You thread your fingers atop his and place a kiss into his palm. As much as you wanted to stay like this forever, the impending list of things to deal with weighs heavy on your mind, “Alastor…you should go check on Charlie. After the meeting I’m sure she could use some of your support right about now.”

Alastor kisses the back of your head then groans, reluctantly moving from your warmth to get out of bed. He pauses at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. You roll over to take in the beautiful sight of his bare body. Hair a mess, tail ever so slightly twitching, scars and your marks across his back. The perfect picture of the demon you’ve come to love deeper than he’d ever realize. A smile stretches across your face as you crawl over and slink your arms around him, placing gentle kisses over his neck and shoulders.

He leans back into you, “Don’t worry too much about Charlie, dear. I have a plan but it does require a trip into Cannibal Town. I believe you have some pressing matters to deal with while I’m gone?” You tense at the thought. Which matter was he referring to? Lucifer? The Extermination? Getting a better hold over your ever growing power? All could take a back burner to other problems at the moment. “I actually need to make a trip into the city again. One of my…contracts…found some smaller demon in need of my help before the Exorcists make their grand appearance.” 

“Then I’ll go with you -”

“Alastor…” you move to stand in front of him, cupping his face as his eyes wander every inch of your naked body, “...I need you to trust me when I say I can handle this. You have plenty to do and I don’t need your shadow babysitting me either.” your tone is serious, almost scolding the demon.

He runs his hands up and down your hips nervously, “I trust you. It’s others I don’t trust. You’ve attained quite a list of people who would be all too happy to find you alone on the streets.” 

“Don’t remind me.” you say under your breath, though well aware of how right he is. “Besides I won’t be totally alone - Simon is meeting me. I promise I’ll be careful…okayyyy?” You flash your eyes mischievously, making his worry fade into a soft smile. “Fine. Back by dinner or else -” He playfully grabs your waist to pull you on top of him, laying back across the bed, “ - I will come find you.” he teases before placing a long, tender kiss against your lips. 

It was pleasantly domestic getting ready for the day in your now shared room. You look in the mirror at the marks left across your neck and chest from the night before. Angel is going to have a fucking hayday with this. As if reading your thoughts, Alastor walks behind you with half lidded eyes, breezing the backs of his fingers across each mark, “You sure you can’t make a visit to Lucifer today?” he hums smugly into your hair. You scoff and turn to smack his chest, “Behave! I have enough going on right now.” You notice he hadn’t buttoned his shirt all the way like usual, as if proudly showing off of his own bites and bruises. 

The two of you head down to the lobby to see everyone but Charlie sitting around the parlor. You plop down next to Nifty in time to hear the end of Vaggie explaining her status as a fallen angel. Ooooh that makes so much sense now…Angel pokes at the already agitated girl, “And where is miss fearless leader anyway? Isn't it about time for another "doomed-to-fail" plan?” 

A solemn look crosses Vaggie’s face, “She's upstairs. Coming up with something, I'm sure, in our room. Alone.” Alastor leans down to your ear, “That’s my queue. Be safe, I love you.” he kisses your temple and slips away into his shadow. 

The group looks at you like you have suddenly grown two heads. If you didn’t know any better, Vaggie was about to explode. “What!?” you ask innocently. “So uh - long night?” Husk elbows Angel, both trying to conceal their laughter. You ignore the comment and roll your eyes. Walking towards the door you stop briefly behind Angel, “You were right about Smiles.” you say quietly with a wink. His eyes nearly pop out of his head in between choking on his drink. The sound of your amused cackles echo through the lobby as you make your way out the door.

Simon was one of your first souls put under contract. The once prestigious loan shark had been cornered by a group of Exorcists. They toyed with him like a cat does its prey, taking turns slicing him head to fin over and over while he begged for mercy. It was pure luck when you found him in the sewer. In exchange for saving him, he agreed to a soul contract, keeping your secret and using his contacts to help you find others in need around the city. He had no issue being indebted to you as you always treated your souls well - unlike most Overlords. Through the years he became your go-to. As you approach the smaller demon on the street corner, you realize he has become your most trusted contract. Rule#1 B̵̳͍͈̑è̷̠ ̸̻͉͕̎̚ŏ̸̰̩́͝p̷̡̐ẽ̴̻̠̙ṇ̵͇͌ ̸͙̗͂͐t̸̠͙̝͌ơ̴̤̜͐̈́͜ ̵̰̒ẗ̴͖̹̲́r̵̟̓̄u̸̻͘s̴̢͔̀́̉t̸̠̒̿̈́,̷̠͍̞͛̅ ̸̢̭̤̂̇̈́b̸̧̛̖̀̊ṳ̷̖̫́t̸̨̗̥͂ ̷̧͓̳́̿n̴̯̠̑͝ê̵̾ͅv̵̨̤̳́é̶̼̌̆r̷̝̉̑ ̵̦̯̭͐̓̕d̸̟̈́̆̆o̶̡͑̊͘ ̴̼̉̚s̷̢̔͝o̵͚͕͌ ̶̺̙͊̅b̸͉̚ͅl̴͚̣͘͝ì̸̛̼ṇ̸̅d̷̞̤̍̍l̷̛̩y̴̧̼̙̾

“Sorry for the sudden urgency boss, but this guy insisted on meetin’ ya. To be honest I don’t know much about ‘em, all he said was he almost didn’t make it through the last Extermination. Seemed pretty shak’n up at the sudden bump in the next one.” In true gentleman fashion, he links your arm and leads you into a shop. 

Walking in you would have thought the Exorcist’s had already made a visit. Chairs strewn across the room, paperwork scattered, broken glass littering the floor. Blood smears across the walls, trailing to the back room. 

“The fuck Simon? I thought you said he needed help, not a damn funeral!” you snap. Simon looks at you in disbelief, “I didn’t know he - I mean he - look he was fine a few hours ago. Someone must’ve gotten to him.”

A loud crash in the back makes you both flinch. Cautiously you step through the store, careful to not make any unnecessary noise. As you peek your head in the room, which appears to be an empty stock room, you see the blood trail towards a small body in the back corner. This doesn’t feel right…

Your intuition goes ignored. Right or not - someone is hurt. After scanning the area to make sure the attacker wasn’t still in the room, you turn your attention to the crumpled body on the floor. It was hard to tell where exactly the most blood was coming from. His arms were shredded, one horn had been broken off completely, and his face looked like someone tried to slice it in two. Who the hell would do something like this? “Simon! In here!” You rush to the goat demon’s side.

As you kneel down to cradle him a gasp leaves his throat in pure terror. He flails at your touch, forcing you to tighten your grip, “Shhh relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Simon kneels next to you, “Hey buddy, remember me? This is my friend we talked about. She’s going to help you but before she can, you have to agree to a contract - as discussed earlier.” He was always good at reminding you of the need to cover your ass. Business first, help second. 

The dying sinner nods faintly, starting to lose consciousness. You grip his hand (hoof?) and pink threads wrap between your wrists, bounding his soul to you. You were never one for chains like most used. Souls were never prisoners in your eyes.

The intensity you feel from the deal makes your body practically vibrate. That’s new. You pull the goat’s head to your lips and brace for the pain. A hot white fire tears through your arms and head, but for only a moment. The pain that usually lingered subsided within seconds. I could get used to this.

The sinner’s face pulls back together and his missing horn heals over as a nub. The blood that once caked his arms disappears completely. He opens his eyes with a smile, but fear quickly washes over him, “Oh I’m so sorry…you have to leave before he comes back!” 

“Who!?” you and Simon both ask. The goat stands, hastily rushing you out the back door leading to an alleyway, “Vox…he attacked me. Said he overheard you were coming and…he - just please leave before -” 

As if hearing his name, Vox zaps out of a Voxtech camera hidden under some trash outside the alley. Not this guy again. You step in front of Simon, summoning some needles only to find they’ve become more like thin daggers, heavier and more robust. This power connection with Alastor just keeps getting better. “The fuck do you want Vox?”

He stalks towards you with a sinister smile, “Don’t worry that pretty head of yours, I’m not going to bother your little friends. I’m only here for you.” 

“Well, here I am!” You flick a few needles daggers at him. He staggers when one cracks his screen but the others miss, barely grazing his suit jacket. Shit, guess I need some practice with these.

His display sparks, “Ha - I had a feeling you wouldn’t come easy.” You turn to put some distance between you and the Overlord but don't get far. His large claw tangles into your hair and with a solid yank you’re thrown onto the ground. Your head cracks against the concrete, making the world spin and your ears ring from the impact. How’d he get to me so fast? Simon rushes to try to pull Vox off but the old shark is effortlessly tossed to the side like a ragdoll. 

Before you can get any form of bearing, Vox grabs your shoulder, delivering a shock that causes your entire body to spasm. Really hating how right Alastor was….

“You’re coming with me.” He wraps an arm around your waist. You feel his claws dig deep into your skin as he begins to drag you back towards the camera. You scream for Alastor in between the pulsations abusing your body. He is just a few streets over in Cannibal Town, there’s no way he can’t hear me. 

Your efforts only irritate the TV demon more. “Shut up!” he yells and the back of his hand meets your cheek hard enough to knock you to the ground. Fuck this guy. He towers over you smugly, “That coward isn’t coming to your rescue.” You spit out the blood pooling in your mouth, “Don’t hold your breath, asshole.” An amused chuckle leaves his chest as he throws your body over his shoulder, delivering another mind numbing shock as he continues down the alley. A familiar static faintly rings through your ears. He’s close, I need to buy more time. Rule #4 T̶̴̷̷̶̡͐ủ̴̵̸̷̸̺ŗ̵̴̸̶̴̚n̴̸̶̵̶̜͠ ̶̸̴̸̵̪̊y̵̷̸̶̶̧͛o̴̶̶̵̵͒ͅų̵̵̷̷̴͛r̵̷̷̵̴͔̍ ̶̴̴̸̷̪͂w̵̶̴̴̶͍͌ȇ̴̷̵̶̵̟ä̸̶̵̸̶͜k̷̶̸̶̵͒ͅn̵̸̴̴̸͍̈́e̸̷̸̸̴̱̽s̵̷̴̴̶̰͛s̵̷̸̷̷̤͗ ̶̴̸̴̶̲̅i̴̷̶̷̶̤̕n̶̵̶̸̵̪̐t̸̶̸̴̷͎̾ö̴̴̶̶̴̬ ̵̷̸̴̵͍̚ș̵̵̵̵̶̒t̷̷̵̵̶̡͆ṙ̶̶̴̴̸͓e̴̷̴̵̴̼͂ń̶̵̴̶̴͉g̶̶̷̷̷̭͐t̵̴̶̷̶͎͝ḩ̴̴̶̴̷̏

Every muscle feels like it’s being ripped apart, but you fight through the pain. You pull a dagger and weakly drive it into his shoulder. It only pierces half way before your strength gives out. “AHGH what the fuck!?” he yelps in surprise, dropping you to remove the blade, “You are one feisty little bitch aren’t you?” 

Deafening static echoes off the alley walls. Relief washes over you at the sight of a smiling shadow bolting by. “You are much more dense than I thought. Did I not make it clear last time? You are not welcome to touch what - is - mine.” Alastor’s voice booms. 

Vox looks over his shoulder at the demon materializing behind you, “Yours? I don’t see your nam- ” His screen twists with sudden disgust. You whimper as his claws dig into your cheeks, ripping your head upward to flash a perfect view of the bruises and bite marks across your neck. “Ho-holy shit…are you fucking the Radio Demon!? This is gold!” The sound of an audience cheering rings from the TV. 

A tentacle breezes past, forcefully knocking Vox into a dumpster. Alastor leans against his microphone, nonchalantly rubbing his monocle on his coat, “I believe we are done here. You can leave.” he chirps.

Vox wipes the red liquid spilling from his mouth. “Enough games.” With a quick flash he bolts to your side. He wraps an arm around your shoulders sending another charge ripping across your body. Your sight begins to pinpoint from the pain. The last thing you see is a bright flash of blue, changing the city alley to a luxurious penthouse. 

The cold tile below you is surprisingly pleasant against your bruised face and body. You open your eyes and struggle to move. Wires tightly wind around your wrists and ankles. Shit how long was I out?

“Well good morning sunshine! I hope you had a nice nap.” Vox sits in a red velvet chair in front of you. He crosses his legs arrogantly and rests his head on his claw, “Now tell me, how did someone like you manage to slip under all of our noses through the years? Did Carmilla protect you? Or are you just a shitty Overlord?”

“A s-shitty Overlord? Sounds like the p-pot calling the k-kettle black.” you jeer, stuttering through the torturous zaps coming through the wires. He stands up and sucks his teeth already losing patience, “I’d watch that smart mouth of yours. You’ve made quite a few enemies with that last stunt. Did you really think I’d let you off without consequence? Noooo…I’m going to enjoy making - you - suffer.”

He kneels by you and forces your eyes to his hypnotizing gaze. This just went from bad to worse… You squeeze your eyes shut to try to shake his control but lose any ability to move. 

“Of course if you promise to be a good girl, I could show mercy. We could make a deal! A partnership! I spare you now and in return, you and those fun powers of yours belong to me.” 

You growl through gritted teeth, “I’d rather die again than belong to someone like you.”

“Common, I can give you so much in return for your services. Val might not be too thrilled but it would be worth it knowing I’m in control of Alastor’s whore.” he slowly moves around you like a vulture waiting to attack.

He can’t be serious. “Fuck….you…” 

“Oh only if you ask nicely babe.” Vox coos seductively. A snap of his fingers releases the wires bounding you. Still unable to move on your own accord, he picks you up and holds you flush against him. You feel his staticy tongue trace across your neck to your ear. “What do you say sweetheart? Are you going to beg for me to show mercy?” You retaliate the only way you can, by spitting in his face at the offer. 

His screen sparks and flashes red with rage. “Stupid cunt!” he throws you face down through the glass coffee table. It completely shatters under you. That didn’t feel great. “Is s-someone a little sensitive t-to rejection?” you laugh mockingly at his outburst. The lights in the tower flicker as he sputters and errors. Regaining control of your body, you struggle to get to your feet. A familiar hand wraps around your waist to help steady you upright, “Go back to the hotel.” Alastor commands, already nearing full demon form. You shake away his shadow as your own horns and fire burst out, “I’m not leaving you.” Rule #3 K̶̷̴̴̸̶̶͙̗̉͐e̶̴̷̶̵̶̗̺͂e̵̸̶̴̴̵͖͂͗ṕ̸̴̸̵̷̴̪̈ ̵̶̴̶̸̶̞͂̀t̵̴̵̵̷̶͎͇̿h̶̴̴̶̴̷̙́̑ȯ̴̵̴̵̶̶̖̇s̶̸̸̶̷̴̤̀̚e̴̴̸̶̷̶̸̘͎͌͝ ̴̵̶̵̸̷̱̉̓y̵̵̴̶̸̷̭͆̿o̸̸̴̶̵̶̴̯̲͂͑u̷̵̶̴̵̸̷̠̞̒̎ ̷̴̵̶̵̷̖̞͂ḻ̷̶̸̸̴̴̓͒ò̴̵̴̸̷̸̷̲͖͆v̷̴̷̵̵̶̤̈͠e̴̸̵̴̷̷̸̼̯̾̐ ̵̴̷̴̷̶̞̍̕c̷̸̴̴̶̛̜l̵̷̶̷̵͈̃o̵̵̷̵̵̸͈̕͠s̵̶̵̵̵̸̨̝̑e̷̶̵̵̷̷̡͌́

Vox sneers in frustration, “How the fuck did you get in here?”

“You forget who I am, old pal.” Alastor slams the bottom of his cane to the ground, sending black appendages towards the TV and smashing him into every surface of the room. Val bursts in, hearing the loud destruction, “Que carajo…….YOU!” He pulls a gun from his hip. You freeze recognizing the Carmine crest on the side of the weapon. Shit, that’s not ideal.

Val takes aim at Alastor who is too engrossed in torturing Vox to notice the danger he now faces. Without hesitation Val pulls the trigger. “No!” your heart drops as you reach out in vain, knowing you’re not close enough to do anything. Your scream catches Alastor’s attention. He drops Vox to see your expression mirroring his own confusion. There’s no way Val missed. Where did it -

Your still outstretched hand glows with power. A silence falls over the room at the sight of a Carmine bullet hanging mid-air, near millimeters from Alastor’s head. He smirks and smoothly slides out of its path to stand behind you. His lips brush your neck and he smiles through a low voice, “Good girl. Feel our power. Embrace it.” Rule #2 D̸̵̷̗̪͊́ö̸̵̶̤͙́͝n̸̴̸̩̫͊͘’̴̵̴̢̪̓̋t̶̸̶͎͓̎̇ ̸̵̸̩̑̋ͅb̵̵̷̦͔͆̇e̴̶̷̮̳̒̅ ̴̵̴̻̰̅̑a̸̴̴̹̳̓͝f̶̸̷͓̗͋̓r̸̸̴̞͐͆ͅą̶̴̵̥̀̾ḯ̴̵̴̱͇͝d̸̴̸̰͑͜͠ ̶̸̴̲̥͋͋t̴̸̸̩̽̎ͅö̶̵̶̭͎́̚ ̴̸̷̨̥́̕s̵̸̸̝̮͗̎h̶̸̷̞͖̍͋ö̶̶̷̲̘͝w̷̵̸̬̥̉͘ ̷̷̶̧̯̍̆ẏ̷̶̸̢̮̈́ö̶̷̸̦́̇͜u̸̸̴͍͍̐̅ŕ̵̶̷̻͚͝ ̶̶̷̙̮́̅p̸̷̶̙̱̌̚ǫ̴̸̶̇̈́͜ẘ̷̴̴͍̠̓e̸̸̸̯͋͌͜r̴̵̷̛̺͍̍

You look across the room to Val attempting to pick Vox up. With a flick of your wrist the bullet rockets back towards them. The TV demon swiftly grabs his partner and zips into a camera, narrowly avoiding your attack. Now who’s the coward…

Alastor’s pride fades into concern. He grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up, “Woah what are you -” your protests stop the moment he shows you his blood soaked hand. You hadn’t noticed how much glass from the table riddled your body, having been masked by adrenaline and your now soaked black shirt.

“F-fuck time to -” Alastor is blindsided by a flash of blue. Vox’s bolt launches him through one of the large penthouse windows. You feel a pit in your stomach watching his limp body disappear over the edge and into the dark abyss of the city below. All the power you possess yet in this moment, you’ve never felt so helpless. No…he is okay. He has to be. I can still sense him. 

A disheveled and pissed off Vox stands where Alastor was just seconds before, closely shadowed by Val. Their eyes lock onto you. Through the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, you hear Vox’s voice glitch, “Time to j-join your p-pathetic Radio Demon.” Val lunges towards you and wraps two hands around your throat. His large hands are unforgiving, demanding to feel your life drain under him. Not this time Val. 

He makes the mistake of not holding your arms, giving you the opportunity to plunge a dagger deep into his side. With a wail, he releases his hold on you as he drops to his knees in agony. Time for a show. “We are done here Vox. Stand down. You wouldn’t want to lose your precious moth, would you?” You grab Val’s shoulder and rest your blade against his neck as a warning.

Vox cocks his head at your threat. He takes a step towards you without a word. You tisk, “Easy now…” you press the edge slightly deeper into the moth demon. Weak pleas of mercy fall from his lips. One wrong move and he would be cut ear to ear.

“You don’t have it in you.” the TV growls. 

Val howls as blood drips down onto his chest from you pushing further, “Try me.”

A warm hand against your lower back snaps your attention out of the tense moment, “Enough, cher. You are not one to take lives.” he whispers sweetly into your ear. You feel Alastor gently guide your blade out and away from Val, who shuffles like an injured dog towards Vox’s feet. Alastor’s voice roars boisterously, carrying a thick static, “I do believe the V’s won’t be bothering us any further, isn’t that correct?” he waves his hand to surround the two Overlords with shadowy his minions. Vox grits his teeth while tending to Val, “Alright fine! Leave our territory and we will leave you alone…for now.” his voice cracks with a mix of fear and frustration.

“Lovely.” Alastor hums, spinning his cane in a show of victory. 

Your veins run cold, contrasting the warm blood still dripping from the lacerations across your torso. Quickly losing the rush of adrenaline that was keeping you standing, you fall into Alastor - bracing against his chest. “Al, this is bad.” you breathe. With one swift movement he scoops you into his arms, “I know, let’s go.” The wrecked penthouse fades out and your shared room at the hotel fades in. Your eyes immediately become heavy, too heavy. “No no no…Stay awake, love. Fight it, I need you to -” Alastor's pleas fade as you slip away.

Voices echo through the darkness. 

There’s so much blood…

Alastor, how -

Vox. He took her by surprise. 

Dad please, she needs you…

Wait…who? Get out of my way you stupid deer who is - W-WHAT DID YOU -

Get your hands off me! I didn’t do this! Can you help or not!?

I can try. I haven’t done anything like this in centuries.

D-Dad?

Leave us, I need to focus.

I will not be leaving her, especially with you.

You’re the reason she’s like this!

Watch your tone your Highness, you may be King but -

But what? You forget your place, demon. 

If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t be asking  -

Do not mistake me...I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for Charlie…and for her…

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

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[brucewaynehater101]

Tim Ruler of worlds

In my head i think that the brucequest was way faster in this AU, when he realized that no one believed him about Bruce being alive Tim felt hopeless for half an hour before he remembered that he has a lot of planets under his rule and surely someone there could help him.

the only reason it took a month to get a team ready, was that there needed to be a competition for the honor of being on a team working directly under red robin, despite the time it took it was a great festival for his planets and a boost to tourism and trade, so Tim didn't complain.

Thanks to that + an spaceship, the Brucequest was over in less than a month, before Ra's even noticed that something was happening Tim was done.

but i'm not sure if i remember right but i think that in canon by the time Tim ends his quest the league had also realized that Bruce was alive, so here the only reason Tim ends up CEO of WI despite speedrunning the Brucequest is because the JL still didn't do anything even with a step-by-step slideshow on how to save Bruce, Tim is pissed but he has other things to do, so he just decides to try again later, but the one who is really pissed is Bruce when he discovers he could have been saved months earlier, but not a single person of the JL bothered to watch Tim's slideshow.

Also i called Tim red robin in this but i'm not sure if Tim would even be red robin in this AU, because having planets do competitions for the honor of working with you is very good for a person's confidence, i'm thinking that he was heading for a depressive spiral before the competition, but then seeing all the monuments the people of his planets built in his honor, the good he did for those planets, and the love they have for him as leader, really helped him grieve for his friends, rest a bit from all the stress from home and find hope in himself as more than robin, i think at this point since he's no longer Robin he reveals himself as Tim Drake for his subjects, the competion/festival lasts even longer because of that.

Also it really says something about Tim and his family that he considers ruling a multi-planetary empire more relaxing than being at home.

Oof! This has a great mixture of fix-it, fluff, and angst. You're right that maybe Tim would utilize the resources he has as a planetary ruler to aid him in the BruceQuest. Perhaps one of the reasons the JL refused to listen to Tim is because he managed to finish the BQ so quickly and refused to list his resources. I'm not sure exactly why, but perhaps this meant they didn't quite trust the info (not to mention all of the rumors of Tim not being mentally stable).

I'm not sure if Tim would release his civilian identity to these planets. However, I could see him creating an identity just for the plants to have a name to call him. He considers it like a royalty name or something. I do agree that with this AU, it makes sense for Tim to never take up the Red Robin mantle. I like Cardinal for him, but maybe he gets inspired by some myth by the planets.

A really funny and cool take would be the different planets having a prophecy about the hero that unites their planets and bring them prosperity. They start referring to Tim by this name (out of appreciation, love, and admiration). After repeatedly being referred to by this mantle, he decides to make it his vigilante name as well. I don't know what the name would be. Perhaps it means a significant amount in the aliens' language and gets roughly translated to English for Tim to use (like Superman's "S").

Honestly, Patron could also be a cool name for him.

[7thleveldown]

Tumblr for Werewolves

So… If stiles existed you KNOW he would have had a Tumblr. In this essay I will…

Derek walks over to the dining table to pick up his laptop which Stiles had been researching on. Well, research? He's pretty sure this isn't research.

“Stiles, what the hell is this?” Derek gestures to the open webpage on the laptop.

“It's the internet Derek, I know I've explained this to you before.” The smirk from Stiles is so unbelievably arrogant Derek could slap him. But maybe he could have a little fun with this.

“Yes. I am aware,” he says, completely deadpan, “you took great pains with it. Or caused me pain anyway. But I meant this specifically… This… Does not look like pack research. I don't admittedly know what to does look like, but…” he scowled at Stiles 

“What are you…” Stiles muttered as he came back from the kitchen, looking confused, before barking out a laugh. “Nah, man, that's just Tumblr, I was taking a little break from the research to clear my head.”

Derek put on his best (hopefully) confused and grumpy expression at Stiles’ reponse. “But, what… Is it?” Derek saw Peter appear on the sidelines. His ability to pick up on mischief, whether he was creating it or not, was terrifying.

“Dude! Come on! Tumblr? It's probably older than you are!” Stiles laughed and then seeing Derek's face, he pretended to pout. “Aww, did they not have Tumblr for technologically backward werewolves who only want to scowl? Poor sourwolf, you don't know what you've been missing! The fanfiction alone! The memes! The in-jokes!” Stiles was gesticulating more and more wildly, pacing around the room.

“Oh come on Derek, you-” Derek shot Peter a look and a smirk that made Peter falter just a little as he realised what was going on, but not enough for Stiles to notice. “You must remember Tumblr, Laura was always on there.” Derek sent Peter the slightest nod of thanks, and Peter's eyes lit up in glee.

“Laura had Tumblr? Do you know what her username was? We could find it! I could find it, we could see what she…” Stiles trailed off as he realised what he was saying. “You know, I could try, if you wanted me to?” 

Stiles had stopped pacing, his voice softening and his arms wrapped around himself. This had taken a turn Derek had not expected.

“I guess I might be able to remember… Maybe if you explain it to me, because it just seems so…”

Stiles’ face lit up in response. “Course! I mean, we gotta start with bringing you into the 21st Century sometime, or at least the 19th would help, because the whole Heathcliff lurking in shadows thing is kinda old. We need to get you to understand our references!”

“I know who Heathcliff is, if that's any help?” Derek said, trying to sound a little coward and out of his depth. Stiles could be such an ass sometimes, and Derek would get his own back.

“Of course you do, big guy, of course you do.”

So, Derek sits back and makes Stiles try to explain exactly what Tumblr is, in excruciating detail. And then pretends to still not understand it. Peter has had to leave the room several times so he doesn’t burst out in laughter.

“Derek! Come on! This is not that hard! For the love of….” Stiles flounces around the room, getting redder and redder in the face, and even Derek is beginning to break at this.

“Stiles, what was it you were saying about codes? I think I remember something about that…” Peter asks, distracting Stiles’ attention from Derek for a moment.

“Yes! Yep, codes… It's one of those things so people would say a phrase, and it would identify them to other Tumblr users in the real world, but mean nothing to anyone else… it’s um…”

“Stiles, don’t tell me that great brain of yours has forgotten the code? Wasn’t it about liking something?” Peter was not holding back his smirk.

At that moment, in a moment of weakness, Derek replies “I like your shoelaces.” He screws up his face as he realises what he has just said out loud.

“I fucking KNEW IT!” crows Stiles, spinning on the spot to point the finger at Derek. “I will find you in there, you can’t hide from me, there is no getting away from me now, I will find you.”

Derek sighs. Great. “This isn’t Taken, Stiles. Stop trying to channel Liam Neeson.”

The sound that is emitted from Stiles could best be described as a squark. “But you don’t…. But you….” He flails between Derek and Peter, who is laughing so hard he’s struggling to breathe. Stiles spins himself around so much, he ends up making himself dizzy and ends up on the floor with a thump.

Peter stops laughing long enough to glare at Derek. “Did you HAVE to break him? He’s my entertainment!”

Derek raises an eyebrow.

A slurred "I'm okay" is heard from the floor.

[thewertsearch]

A fifth exile, sleeping for centuries in the belly of the ruins, far beneath the desecrated idol once sharing its visage with the legendary SPEAKER OF THE VAST CROAK.

We’ve got another Vast Thing, to accompany Gl'bgolyb’s Glub and Aradia's Joke.

I'm a little nervous about the parallel being drawn here between Gl'bgolyb and Bilious Slick. If Sburb's Frog God turns out to have been a Horrorterror all along, it would certainly be fitting, but it definitely wouldn't be good.

Soon the WRIT KEEPER will awaken and serve his new queen.

Fair enough. It makes sense that the Queen would want to save her husband if the opportunity were to present itself.

It is a little fucked that he's the only one who was preserved, though. He shared space with Dave’s beta, so the device can clearly accommodate multiple payloads. For all we know, they could have evacuated half of Prospit through here!

The King has become the Writ Keeper, which makes me think that Complacency might be more than just a teen's first novel.

I think it’s time to take another look at Rose's magnum opus.

COTL is a story about twelve wizards, who suspect that their twelve apprentices are responsible for murder.

In contrast, Homestuck is a story about twelve rather murderous trolls, who are following in the footsteps of their twelve ancestors. So, you see, it's different.

Nah, but seriously, I'm fairly confident that these wizards are supposed to represent the ancestors and Players of the troll session. Zazzerpan even refers to the apprentices as the Complacency's 'grand descendence', which is almost comically on the nose.

But what does it mean? I doubt Rose is intentionally weaving these parallels - it's probably just a manifestation of her latent Seer powers.

In the story, Zazzerpan's cohort are horrified by the possibility that their apprentices are killers. Does this imply that the troll ancestors are less violent and dangerous than the modern Alternians? But if the ancestors were peaceful, I don't think Eridan would respect them the way he does. Hmm.

She would like clarification on the nature of the work, which you are happy to provide. You explain that it is very simple. As the new queen, she will be charged with bringing the slayer to justice, and rebuilding her kingdom in a new land.

The latter is standard practice for Sburban Exiles, and should be well within their capabilities. That said, it would be just as achievable if they were being led by WQ, so I’m not sure why PM needs to bear the crown instead.

If PM is 'bringing the Slayer to justice', she'll probably be confronting Jack directly. This means she's going to be travelling back into sessionspace, presumably quipped with the one weapon capable of matching Noir’s.

[saschax]

ghost headcannons.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: intense negative emotions (experiences strong feelingsof anger, resentment, anxiety, and stress), grudge holding (hold onto negative feelings), emotional surpression, isolation and touch deprivation (isolated and unaccustomed to phsyical contact, which he yearns for), trauma-related fear, sexual anxiety, mental distress (experiences a lot of mental distress and anxiety, which is exacerbated during intimate situations.) nsfw (sexual content)

safe for work.

ghost is an individual who is deeply angered, seeking vengeance, and filled with intense resentment.

contrary to the popular belief that ghost is understanding, compassionate, or forgiving, i personally perceive him as stern, and he has a tendency to hold onto grudges.

although he might seem “peaceful” on the surface, there’s a storm brewing within him, as he suppresses his anger. this is a detrimental habit of his. in general, his internal emotional state is typically dominated by anxiety, stress, hatred, and fury.

ghost is isolated…

in my opinion. he is deprived of physical contact, but it doesn’t help when he recoils or twitches every time someone accidentally brushes against him. ghost struggles to communicate that he doesn’t dislike the touch, he’s just not accustomed to it (and in fact, he yearns for it more than anything), but he keeps this to himself.

building on the previous point, he is fearful of intimate gestures.

such as hand-holding, close proximity (he doesn’t mind this if it occurs during missions, as long as it’s necessary. e.g., door breaching), and so forth. this fear stems from his traumatic experiences with such gestures…

i believe this is referred to as haphephobia?

ghost has a leaner physique.

in my view. he is strong, but not overly muscular. he’s not leaner than soap or any other guys, though, he’s still a bit more muscular than them.

his build aligns with the original ghost’s, just with a bit more muscle to support the current one.

ghost falls ill frequently.

since ghost doesn’t really take good care of himself, such as getting adequate sleep or consuming enough food/drinks, he tends to fall sick easily.

and he never discloses this to anyone and continues to carry out his missions.

ghost experiences nightmares during his sleep.

and because his dreams are so vivid, he temporarily forgets a person (like soap, if he is dreaming about soap. e.g., soap gets brutally attacked) for a while when he wakes up.

his brain temporarily suppresses certain memories of his to shield him from stress, but they always resurface later…

not safe for work.

ghost is timid, hesitant.

it’s already a small wonder if you somehow manage to have him above you, he’s not accustomed to being this exposed and he feels like he’s on the verge of being sick.

he’s just… unfamiliar with this, trembling the entire time.

this is the real him, a guy with full of anxiety, troubles. a guy who is told to "hide your fear", and don't show weaknesses. his whole fucking walls are falling down because of alot of things are going through his head.

he tends to pause frequently.

don’t worry if he pauses his thrusts, it’s just him reflecting on… certain matters.

you’ll need to gently draw him out of his thoughts if you want him to continue, his eyes fixated on the pillow, lost in thought, is making you worried.

P.S i always imagined ghost as person with mental problems, considering his backstory.

please let me know if this is not canon! i am german so i dont really know the plot very well, im still learning.

(i dont know english pronouncations, just how to type the words)

ill be posting a "dominant and needy" john price fanfiction tomorrow, unknown time. its nsfw.