#but if i ever did get a snack for myself while someone else was around i would obviously offer them some or something else and not just eat

[llamagoddessofficial]

Can we get some Horror fae headcannons? I'm twiddling my thumbs and waiting for the big boyo to appear while I lose myself in your fae realms

Goodness, do try not to get lost. Though if you do get lost, he's certainly the one for you.

Quite similar to his non-fae self, really. Quiet, large, wild, bloodthirsty when required but completely unafraid to show his soft side to those he loves.

He does have a bit of a... 'reputation', in both realms. A reputation for being a frightening beast that you do not want to encounter out in the wastes.

Apparently, he did something unspeakable in Summer - banished from that court, he found himself immediately warmly welcomed into Nightmare's fray. He was one of the first of the Winter court.

He and Nightmare aren't exactly "friends", in the way Nightmare and Killer almost seem to be. But there's a certain degree of trust between Horror and Nightmare that just isn't there with anyone else. A level of mutual, unspoken understanding. They rarely talk to one another, but somehow, they seem to know each other very well.

(There seems to be some truth to the Summer rumours, given his absolute visceral hatred of even the word.)

Living in Nightmare's court means Horror has ample food. People are still scared of him, though.

Big fuzzy guy!! His wings are the biggest and softest out of anyone's; cuddling him will be like hiding in the thickest blanket imaginable. If you sit on his lap, you can pull his wings over you and fall asleep snuggled up like that. Rest assured, if you do that, you will never meet a happier skeleton.

Tricking you simply does not cross his mind. He's too slow with words for that kind of nonsense. If he wants to keep you forever, why does he need to steal your name? He'll just bake you the best pie you've ever had, that'll do it.

Or chase you down when you run. That works too.

Not good at telling you he likes you. He can show love just fine - gestures of devotion are part and parcel of who he is. But when it comes to the talking side of romance? An absolute wreck.

Killer helps. "hey, my buddy over there thinks you're cute," [points to the enormous shaking & sweating anxious monster who's unsuccessfully trying to hide behind a candelabra]

He tends to disappear for several days in a row, to go on long treks through the snow. They clear his mind. He probably knows the realm better than anyone alive. He would really like it if you came with, making you the first person to ever be invited along, but he doesn't mind if you don't want to go. He doesn't expect everyone to be interested in multi-day snow hikes.

(You could sit on his shoulders the whole way, though. In case that changes your mind. He'd also show you untouched natural wonders beyond comprehension. And he packs snacks)

His love language is bringing food back for you from his 'trips'. Baked salmon from the ice rivers, steaks of venison from the winter forests, slow-cooked rabbit from the plains, and on rare occasions bear stew from the mountains. If you're vegetarian it'd be good to tell him immediately because this will become a pattern.

He also likes making furs into clothes for you. For someone who struggles with shaking hands, he's surprisingly good with a needle and thread.

You'll never be cold, when he's around. And you'll never sleep alone.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Confessions

Steddie || ~2.3k words || rating: T || tags: post vecna, references to stancy, angst and fluff, robin buckley just being herself

~~~

Eddie and Robin were just finishing filling the snack bowls and mixing drinks when they heard a knock at the door. It’s a Friday night– and not what Eddie would consider a late hour–but they weren’t expecting anyone to join their weekly movie night at Steve’s. 

He glances at Robin who shrugs, shaking her head. As he rounds the kitchen counter towards the foyer, Steve’s voice carries down the hallway.

“Nance?” He sounds surprised too.

“Steve, I’m sorry I know it’s late, but I’ve been meaning to talk to you and I can’t wait anymore,” she says. Eddie can’t see her, but she sounds anxious. 

“This can’t be good,” Robin huffs. He agrees, if the sinking pit in his stomach is any indicator.

“Look, Nance, now’s not really–”

“Steve,” she barrels over him, sounding desperate. “I’ve been an idiot trying to convince myself that I haven’t missed you since we broke up– and before you say it, this isn’t because Jonathan left after we closed the last gate. When we were stuck there with Robin and Eddie, the way you looked at me was how I’ve always hoped someone would love me. You looked at me like I was everything to you, like you could look at me forever and never get tired of it. I feel wanted, and loved, and safe when I’m around you.” She takes a deep, steadying breath before pressing on.

“Last time, when we were together, I took all of my grief and anger out on you. I blamed you for  what happened to Barb because I couldn’t face it myself and I knew you loved me enough to hold the weight, and I resented you for it. You wouldn’t stand up to me, and I resented you because you loved me anyway.” Eddie can hear Nancy sniffling, small sobs carrying down the hallway. “You loved me at my worst, and you didn’t deserve that. You’re amazing, and strong, and kind and everything I could ever ask for.

“Steve, what you said in the Winnebago, I just, I can’t stop thinking about you. About us”

The silence that follows is stifling and Eddie feels bile climbing up his throat. Arms wrap around his shoulders as Robin tucks her head into his neck. Only a small comfort while months of gentle moments with Steve flash behind his eyes: soft hands brushing his curls, stolen glances, lingering touches, and warm smiles. Now Eddie’s forced to stand vigil as it’s all washed away by Nancy's whispered pleas.

A spark of hope after a late night confession months ago– swiftly blown away.

“Nance, please–”

“Steve Harrington, I lo–”

“Nancy,” Steve interrupts, his tone firm yet soft around the edges, “I’m in love with someone else.”

Robin gasps into his neck. Her arms around his shoulders squeeze tight, anchoring him to reality in the wake of Steve’s confession. His chest is so full he can’t breathe. 

“Oh,” Nancy whispers before another, deeper sob leaves her breathless. He never thought he’d hear Nancy Wheeler cry. Even though they’re apparently both in love with the same man, he’s grown close with her too and can’t help the urge to comfort her. Eddie’s grown to love everyone in his new found family. But Nancy is right. 

Steve Harrington is everything. 

And Eddie’s everything is Steve Harrington.

“Yeah Nance, I’m sorry. And they’re kind of here right now, so,” he says gently.

And they’re kind of here right now…

Hope flames in his chest, blooming with warmth. Eddie doesn’t hear the conversation end over the buzzing in his own head and Robin’s frantic giggling until they hear the click of the front door and Steve’s footsteps coming towards them.

“Oh.”

Steve’s standing in front of them, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Eddie’s realizing he and Robin maybe should’ve hid before Steve rounded the corner to find them eavesdropping. 

“So,” Steve stammers, a fierce rouge burning his ears, “how much of that did you hear, exactly?”

Robin quickly stands, clearing her throat before Eddie can think of an answer. “Is that the microwave? Did anyone else hear the microwave ding? I think the popcorn is done, so I can go check that right now. Yeah, right now. I’ll just, umm, be in the kitchen checking the popcorn. For the movie.”

She practically sprints down the hall, and although she wasn’t subtle, Eddie’s still thankful for the privacy. Steve’s shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

“Everything,” Eddie answers. “We heard everything.”

“Oh,” Steve says again. He sounds anxious and unsure, something Eddie’s compelled to fix, because all he wants in this world is for Steve Harrington to be happy.

“It’s ok.” He takes Steve’s hands in his own, tracing his thumb lightly over his knuckles. “We won’t say anything to her about it, and we won’t tell anyone what she said. Nancy’s in safe hands with us. Mum’s the word!” And as Eddie mimes zippering up his mouth, he hopes that Steve won’t take the easy way out. That he won’t use the life-raft Eddie’s just thrown in his direction to keep him from drowning. 

“Right,” Steve says. He runs a hand through his hair, biting his lip as he gazes at the floor between them. The silence as Eddie waits for Steve’s next words grows long and tense. He can’t hear any movement in the kitchen, making him more anxious now that he knows Robin’s listening. Which, he’d be a hypocrite to be mad about.

Maybe he has this all wrong. Maybe Steve just needed a way to get her to leave, so he lied about having a date over. Maybe he didn’t know what to say, and just said the first thing to pop into his head. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with Eddie at all. 

Eddie realizes he’s still holding Steve’s hands, his grip tightening the longer he spirals. If it hurts, Steve hasn’t said anything. But when Eddie looks at his face, he seems dazed and lost in thought. As fast as if he’d been burned, Eddie drops Steve’s hands and takes a step backward.

“So,” Eddie stammers, voice shaking, “I’m going to go help Birdie with the popcorn. You want to get another movie started?”

Hands still frozen in the air, Steve finally lets his clenched fists fall to his sides. Eddie can see the whites of his knuckles. He hears Steve sigh, exhausted and frustrated, but Steve’s nodding with furrowed brows and taking a step backward towards the living room– away from Eddie. Too far to reach out to.

Turning away, Eddie’s in the middle of forming an escape attempt when he opens the kitchen door to immediately be swept up in Robin’s arms. Of course she’d been listening. He’s grateful for it, now that he doesn’t have to explain himself. As he buries his face into her neck, he finds a wet patch and wonders what kind of accident she got into while prepping snacks. It’s not until she starts gently shushing him that he realizes he’s crying, tears soaking into her shirt. 

“It’s gonna be ok, teddy bear,” she says, running her hand through his curls, “he’ll get there, I promise. He’s working on it, you know that.”

He nods. He does know that. Steve’s been out to Robin for a few months, but only to Eddie for a few weeks. He deserves the space to figure it out, and the grace of those around him to do so at his own pace. Still, Eddie can’t help his growing impatience alongside the increasing severity of his crush. At least Robin’s here to support the both of them.

The two of them finish gathering the snacks in silence. She was full of awkward jokes to try to lighten the mood, but when it was clear Eddie was stuck in his head, she’d stopped. He feels bad about it. He’ll make it up to her later, plus he knows she’s not upset with him. Eddie suspects they’ll be getting together sometime tomorrow to rehash everything that’s happened– after she’s finished consoling Steve, of course.

When they leave the kitchen, Eddie’s surprised to find Steve exactly where he’d left him. He’s standing frozen in the hallway, lip pulled between his teeth and hands still clenched. But when he lifts his gaze to meet Eddie’s, there’s resolve behind his eyes.

“Eddie,” Steve says, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Oh my god! Finally!”

Eddie jumps violently at Robin’s shouting, almost directly into his ear. She’s flushed red with embarrassment decorated with a manic grin so wide he wonders if it’ll just keep stretching like taffy. There’s popcorn poured out onto the floor from where she clearly threw her hands up in excited exasperation. He watches as her eyes grow wide, her smile morphing into shock, her lips forming a perfect ‘o’, as if to say ‘oh shit, I just interrupted the most important moment in my best friends’ lives because I’m so excited and impatient that these two dinguses finally figured their shit out’.

She kicks the scattered popcorn towards the wall, like that’ll somehow hide the mess, before awkwardly passing them both down the hall towards the living room.

Eddie loves her so much.

“Huh,” Eddie chuckles, “well that was–”

“I’ve known I’ve liked you since last summer when you let me help you into my pool onto Holly’s rubber duck floaty so you could finally go swimming after you finished physical therapy.” Steve sounds out of breath, words running into each other with misplaced breaths in between. Like if he stops, he knows he won’t start again. 

It’s the only time Eddie’s felt the urge to keep quiet– when he’s not fighting for his life.

“You were so nervous,” Steve plows on, “but you said you felt safe with me, that you wanted only me to be there. You said you trusted me to help without laughing or judging you. Fuck, Eddie, you were so goddamn cute once we got you settled in with a Coke with a crazy straw in it. We were listening to ABBA and you didn’t even complain and you were so sunburnt the next day. It was the happiest I’d ever seen you.”

The memory leaves Eddie shocked. He did trust Steve to help, didn’t even consider asking anyone else because Steve just felt like the most obvious answer. He’d been there through the worst of Eddie’s post-PT work to make sure he ‘kept form’ on his exercises. They’d lounged in the sun all day, and it was the first time Eddie watched Steve relax since his final Upside-Down battle. 

Eddie feels his lip quiver, eyes burning, knowing they’d felt the same that day. Judging by Steve’s watery eyes, he guesses they feel the same now, too. 

“But love,” Steve whispers. He swallows as he takes a step closer, reaching out to grasp his hands. “Eddie Munson, I knew I was in love with you yesterday.”

His shoulders tighten as he recalls yesterday, surprised because they hadn’t seen each other at all, one of the rare days where their schedules didn’t line up. It was the first time in months they’d gone longer than thirty-six hours without seeing each other. Sure, they’d talked on the phone while Steve worked, but it’s not the same.

“I know,” Steve laughs, clocking Eddie’s confusion. “I thought about you all day. Couldn’t stop, no matter how hard I tried. Robin had to work with the customers because all I kept thinking about was tonight. If you’d get here before Robin, so we could sit out by the pool and smoke. Where we’d sit for the movie and if we’d get to share the popcorn bucket. If you’d pick a movie I hadn’t seen, so you’d lean in close and tell me a million random facts, even when you know I don’t really get it. But I just like when you’re close, next to me, and–” he hesitates– “I think that’s why you do it.”

Steve lifts their joined hands, wiping a tear from his eye using the back of Eddie’s knuckles. He returns the gesture, wiping what Eddie’s guessing is a mix of tears and snot off of his own face with Steve’s sleeve. 

“I think you lean in because you want to be close to me, too, and you don’t actually care about the movie either. Eddie, I think you ask for my help because you trust me in a way only Robin does. You give me cute nicknames like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘pretty boy’ because you’re teasing me, but I think it’s mostly because you really mean it.” Steve’s stepped closer now, and Eddie can feel the warmth of shared air between their gasping breaths. 

“I think you tease me and lean into me because you want my attention,” Steve whispers, brushing his nose alongside Eddie’s as their foreheads touch. “But Eddie, you’ve always had my attention.”

Eddie surges forward, capturing Steve’s tear-soaked lips between his own in what has to be the snotiest kiss either of them has ever had. But he doesn’t care. How could he? Eddie’s kissing the man he’s been in love with for almost eight months. 

Steve drops Eddie’s hands in favor of running one through his dark curls, while the other grips tightly at his waist. He can’t help but cup Steve’s cheeks, running a gentle thumb along his cheekbones. 

It’s soft and messy and everything he’s ever hoped for, because Steve Harrington is his everything, and he’ll do anything to keep him. Right now, he doesn’t have to worry about what they’ll tell their friends, or how they’ll explain this to Nancy, or even if Robin’s listening behind the door– he’s sure she is. No, right now, he lets himself bask in the glow of Steve’s love and soak in the comfort that Steve feels loved in return.

[avocado-writing]

hiii your bg3 writing is so *chefs kiss*

I was hoping you'd be able to write the companions' reactions to a bard!tav, giving them a private serenade one night. like they lead them to a clearing away from camp one night and there's a picnic set up and tav sings a song they wrote specifically for their love?

if all the companions is too many, could you please specifically do Halsin, Astarion, Minthara and Wyll?

oh, cute! going to give you a lute, as I think that’s easiest!

Astarion

he makes a comment about how he feels the picnic was a bit unnecessary as he can’t eat it, but you mention you’re his snack later ;)

you sit him down, pour him a glass of wine, and pull out your lute

you ask, suddenly uncharacteristically shy, if you can play him something.

he cocks his head to the side and nods.

your fingers dance across strings, and when you start to sing, he realises it’s a song about him.

you once offered to be his mirror, and tonight you repeat that. your song is about how lovely he is, in every way. how he’s handsome but kinder than he wants to admit. brave. fierce.

its the most sincere celebration of his character he’s ever heard, and by the end of it, he’s left shocked.

“oh…” “did you like it?” chewing your lip, nervous.

“it’s… you’re…” he really doesn’t have the words to convey how you’ve made him feel. so he gently takes your chin in his hand and kisses you.

the kiss gets deeper. the lute is abandoned. so, really, is the picnic. the music the two of you make then is of a different kind.

later, when he has time to come up with a suitable review, he will tell you how much it meant to him. you are his favourite musician, and he has a new favourite song.

Halsin

oh, he’s been around for a long time, but this is the first time someone’s done something like this for him.

he’s just sat in bowled-over silence as you play for him, and it is amazing. an epic ode to his life and kindness, how strong and handsome you think he is.

he comes closer as you sing, sitting right next to you. studying every inch of your face as you perform.

when you’re done, he tells you that it was the loveliest thing he’s ever heard.

“I’ve heard pods of whales singing as they meet up with their lost family… until now, it was the sweetest sound to have graced my ears.”

he gets you to repeat the song and turns into different animals to enjoy it, be it via vibrations or different ways of hearing. either way he wants to be surrounded by your music, and you.

Minthara

absolutely no idea how to respond.

she was brought up in a cutthroat world. this softness is new to her.

she remains quiet for a while as she tries to work out if you’re trying to get anything from her. is this a trick?

”oh, I’m sorry,” you say after a while when she’s just been staring. “did you not like it?”

”no. no, it was… play it again.”

you do, and she really listens to the lyrics. they’re about her beauty. how glad you are to have met her. her strength in battle and soul.

she’s exceptionally moved.

“this is… a priceless gift that you’ve given me. I have no way to repay you.” “I don’t need repayment. it was freely given.”

she kisses you, for she has no way else to thank you. you have moved her more than she thought possible.

Wyll

you play and he listens. his eyes and smile go wide.

absolutely enraptured. claps when you’re done, and cheers your performance. you laugh and bow for him.

he tells you how much you mean to him, what a sweet gift this is. how your love is his most treasured possession.

he reaches into his pocket… and takes out some paper.

“I… I know this is incredible timing but actually… I wrote you something, myself.”

and he starts to read out a poem.

oh, it is lovely. full of flowery verse, and sweet appreciations of you. all the little things which make him love you. you pick up your lute and play along eventually, and he gets into the rhythm too.

the two of you laugh at the fact that you both had the same idea! you’re so alike, so in sync.

he holds you tenderly, kisses you softly.

you end up writing many songs about your Blade. he is your perfect muse.

bonus:

Karlach bursts into tears when she hears it, and scoops you up into a big hug at the end. she’s so emotional. she can’t stop saying she loves you, she loves your song, all of it. lots of wet kisses for you.

Gale is rendered speechless for the first time he can remember. he just stares at you in adoration. he’s never had anyone love him enough to write a song about him before, and he full force of his affection for you hits him in that moment. he is smitten.

[obm-avenquire]

Obey Me! Seven Minutes In Heaven Hell

[I’m honouring my rotten god awful roots from hell. Put up with it. I hope this gives someone whiplash. I am writing this both as a joke and with complete sincerity and i wont be explaining myself if you get it you get it if you dont then i hope youll find it entertaining anyway. I used my own deviantart for 2012 for reference for this]

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Another day, another party in the Devildom. 

You have no idea how any of them have energy for all this - it feels like every week someone will pull some cause for celebration out of thin air and suddenly they’ve hired a catering company and a truckload of helium balloons. Of course, Diavolo - fuelled by his unending fear of missing out and need for enrichment - enables it every time, doing everything he can to get himself and everyone else you know invited. Which is…fine, you like seeing them all. In moderation. At none noisy crowded events. Ah, well. Such is the burden of a dating sim protagonist. Slumber parties at the castle are a little less high maintenance at least.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when Asmodeus calls your name, waving you over with Demonus-flushed cheeks before dragging you away from the balcony and back into the big guest room-turned-common-room-sleeping-area. You definitely think there’s a better way to phrase that, but you barely have time to think when Asmo is pushing you to sit down in the collective circle (his strength always surprises you, and he’s maybe just a little too tipsy to regulate it properly), pressing a kiss on your cheeks before running off to herd together the rest of the group.

You look around the circle, giving Satan an affirming but vague nod that he returns with an equally innocuous smile, which you accept as you always do and go back to your usual little headcount. Belphegor was dozing on the sofa, threatening to sprawl over Satan (who was ‘gently’ repositioning him whenever necessary), Mephistopholes (who had invited himself) was preaching his very special gospel to Beelzebub at the snack table while Asmodeus did whatever he could to wrangle the younger away because his plate was basically just a tower of snacks at this point and he could always get more later so if he would just pleeeeaaaaasssee-

You stop paying attention, instead giving Simeon and Raphael a little wave as they walk in.

“Welcome back,” You shuffle over slightly to make space for the two of them, Simeon sitting down next to you as Raphael decides to stand rigidly slightly off to the side just a little behind the sofa, and just…stay there. Well, whatever makes him comfortable, you guess. “Did Luke arrive safe?”

“He did, thankfully,” Simeon smiles, tucking his phone into the pockets of his trousers, “I can’t believe Serun broke all their bones and had to be hospitalised again. I feel awful not being able to visit, but, well…” He sighs, shrugging, “He wanted to go himself, and insisted he could manage, so…You know how he i-”

“What? I only came because I was promised melon cake!” You’re not sure where Thirteen popped up from, but she’s already on the armchair in the corner, kicking her legs over the armrests as she rolls her eyes. “What a waste of time.”

“Oh! Well, he still finished that, actually, so-” There’s a distinctive arcane shink sound that cuts Simeon off mid sentence. “Now, Raphael, put the spear away, you can’t do that here-” Ever the stickler for manners, it seems. Oh well. Not your problem. 

“Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask.” Thirteen raises her eyebrows at your voice, pupils knife-like and theatrically bitchy in the dim candlelight.  “Why are you covered in soot.” 

“Well,” She scoffs, clicking her tongue, “Since someone-” She glares at Solomon from across the room, who smiles very nicely and innocently through his conversation with Barbatos- “Decided to ‘dismantle’-” She does incredibly heavy and repeated air quotes with her fingers, “My special little bomb boy it exploded all wrong!”

“I understand completely. I’m sorry someone would ever do something so awful to you, you don’t deserve that even slightly.” She snorts, balling up the tissue she was using to wipe the ashes off her forearm and throws it at your head. It disintegrates in midair before so much as making contact, and you squint over in the sorcerer's direction. He’s not even looking your way, and Barbatos whispers something you can’t make out to him as Thirteen groans and throws up her hands in frustration, sliding into what must be an incredibly uncomfortable position. It doesn’t seem to bother her, though, and she picks at her nails grumpily. Oh well!

“-Stop complainin’ already, would it really kill ya to join in?” Mammon is doing everything in his power to pull Levi through the door by the collar of his coat, but the younger seems to be trying to retract his own head into his shirt like a turtle to try and get out of it. 

“You’re killing me you’re the worst and I hate youandIhopeeverythingbadeverhappenstoyoua-” 

“Yeah yeah whatever. Shut up and sit.” Mammon slings his arm over Levi’s shoulder, dragging him down into the circle just as Lucifer and Diavolo finally come back from whatever it was they were getting done. 

“Lucifer, don’t make that face!” Diavolo nudges his bestest of friends, who looks particularly miserable, even as Barbartos silently refills his glass before they all, too, sit to join, the prince and his right hand man on the final empty sofa, the butler instead choosing to kneel neatly a little off to the side from Mammon and Levi. Satan adeptly shoves Belphegor upwards at just the right timing for Beelzebub to sit down (his twin slumps right back into his shoulder). Mephistopholes complains that there isn’t a proper place to sit til Mammon trips him and he ungracefully tries to pass it off as deciding to sit on the floor as Thirteen barks a sharp laugh at him.

A pleasant hum of conversation settles through the room, Asmodeus stumbling into hugging Solomon, whispering something between the invocation trio that you can’t quite make out before spinning around and clapping his hands together (cutely. It’s important to emphasise that he did this so so cutely) to get everyone’s attention.

“E---veryone!!!” He waits a few seconds for silence, shooting a glare at whoever dares to continue in the wake of this very very important announcement. “It’s time for a very special game! Have we all heard of 7 minutes in heaven?” He bounces on the tips of his feet in excitement despite the lukewarm reception. “Okay well that’s a mostly no then I guess-  Honestly! I know it’s a human world thing, but really?” He pouts, and you note that Diavolo’s visible excitement has increased exponentially already. 

“Allow me to explain,” Solomon cuts in, confirming your suspicion that he’d been somehow roped into this. “Two or more participants are selected - in our case by drawing lots - to go into a closet or equivalent and do whatever they like for 7 minutes.” Everyone seems a lot more attentive, suddenly. “Ah, of course, we’ll be taking magic precautions to make sure that there’s no cheating, and certainly no one breaking into the closet before time is up,” He grins, clearly enjoying this already. 

“The heck.” Mammon grumbles, oddly fidgety all of a sudden, “There ain’t even a closet in here,” Leviathan nods aggressively. He’s sweating. 

“Hm? Oh! That won’t be a problem, haha! Barbatos was kind enough to offer to help out with that,” The aforementioned butler steps aside to reveal a simple wooden door on the wall that decidedly hadn’t been there earlier. “We even made sure it was sound-proofed! You know, just in case.”

“What a curious game! Shall we start right away?” Diavolo beams, inadvertently cutting off Mephistopholes, who’d just opened his mouth to no doubt complain that this sort of juvenile and inappropriate game had no place at a gathering with the Devildom’s one and only prince. 

“Yes!! Everyone write your name on a piece of paper, okay?” Asmo begins handing out paper and pens to everyone, shushing any complaining he meets. “You don’t have to play! It just means you’re boring and no fun and that you’ll never get a chance like this again.” 

Better write your name, then. You’d hate to miss out. 

You watch as Barbatos collects everyone’s paper slips, dropping them into a glass bowl and shaking periodically to shuffle them well. You immediately lose track of yours, so you figure that it’s worked.  After what feels like a slightly inordinate amount of time, everyone seems to have put their name in the bowl - sure, some were more…begrudging or in need of convincing than others, but that’s normal! Anyways-

“Oooo I’ve been waiting for this all evening!” Asmodeus grabs the bowl, tap-tap-tapping along the rim for effect, perfectly manicured nails making a pleasant ASMR-esque tink noise. “Right, first u-”

“Uhm, how do- how do we know you’re, uh, not rigging this?” Asmo whips his head around to stare open-mouthed at Levi.

“Excuse me? I would never-”

“Mm, there’s no guarantee though, is there?” Asmodeus pouts at Satan, grumbling something about being personally offended and making sure to snitch next time Satan asks him for a favour.

“Fine! Since I’m so untrustworthy and awful-” The smile is switched back on as he saunters over to you, swishing the bowl around carefully before holding it out to you. “Why don’t you pick? No one will complain then, right?” 

The silence in the room means yes, presumably.

“Go on hun! Don’t be nervous-” He winks, and your mouth quirks into a smile to humour him, carefully reaching into the bowl for two slips of paper, pulling them out and carefully unfolding them to reveal-

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

[As is tradition, I'll be uploading the individual 'endings' as I write them :) I'll be putting a poll up on my account for who to write first (within reason, I don't think tumblr will let me put up enough options to cover everyone) so feel free to suggest people in the replies/tags too!! there will be no luke option becuz i dont know how to put hardware destroying malware in clickable links yet sory :( feel free to simulate the experience urself tho!!]

[letstripdotcom]

sleeping alone- chris sturniolo

summary- chris’s brothers are out of town for the week, and when the house starts to get too lonely for him to handle, he calls you sub!chris x sub!fem!reader

warnings- literally smut, smut, and smut with a hint of fluff😍 not proofread and idc

chris’s pov

matt and nick left an hour ago, and my hand is tired from how much i’ve scrolled on my phone. i get up to get a snack, when i see it’s dark outside. i look around the dark house, and it looks so empty without nick and matt to occupy it. my ears are practically ringing due to the silence of the house. when i check my phone, the time says 8:15. since i have nothing else to do, i start cleaning the house. i’ve been cleaning for so long, that i didn’t even notice the time until i checked my phone again and it was 1:47 in the morning. deciding it’s finnaly time for bed, i head down to my room. normally, i’ll share a bed with nick or matt because i hate sleeping alone. i get in bed, and i toss in turn continuously, struggling to fall asleep. the time is now 2:30 and i know i need to call someone. i open up my contacts when i come across y/n’s contact. “y/n the hottest coolest sexiest person i have ever met” she had set that name for herself once, but i never changed it because let’s be honest, it’s y/n, and i’ve always had the fattest crush on her, but of course i would never tell her that. i sighed once, then clicked on her contact

y/n’s pov

i woke up to the loud ringing of my phone. i check the glowing screen, and see i’m receiving a call from chris “it’s 3 in the morning, what the fuck?” i say to myself before answering

hello?

yo y/n!

what do you want?

did i wake you i’m so sorry

no it’s fine, are you okay, did something happen?

well i can’t sleep and i was wondering if i could come stay the night at yours for a bit, i always share a bed with nick or matt, and i can’t sleep with them gone

yeah that’s fine, just come in when you get here, the key is under the plant

thank you so much i owe you big time

see you soon chrissy

i laughed as i hung up the phone. why was chris asking me out of everyone? i mean it’s chris. i’ve had the biggest crush on him for ever. a little while later i heard the door open and shut, then i heard footsteps up my stairs. “Y/N” chris yelled out plopping down on top of me. we laughed for a minute then he rolled off my bed. “thank you so much again i don’t know what i would do without you” he smiled “you know my house is always available whenever you need anything” we got situated and ready to go to sleep. “are you all good? do you need anything else before bed?” you asked him. “i’m amazing everything is perfect” he assured you “okay goodnight chrissy” “goodnight”

you weren’t sleeping for long when you were suddenly woken up. you felt a strong grip around your waist, and the whimpers in your ear became more clear. your breath got caught in your throat. the whimpers were coming from chris, but he was still sound asleep. his hold on your waist was strong so you couldn’t move, but you had to wake him up. “chris” you whisper shouted a few times, but that didn’t wake him up. “chris!” you yelled. “fuck.” was all you heard as the hold on your waist loosened and chris rolled away. “look y/n i’m so sorry i jus-“ “i could help you. i told you to tell me if you needed anything” you and chris were both stunned by your sudden boldness. “i-i guess i didn’t know sex was an option” he laughed breathlessly. i got close to his ear and whispered “it’s always an option” you then rolled over on top of him and pulled him into a sloppy but needy kiss. you but his bottom lip, causing him to groan, which made you really feel the wetness now pooling in between your legs. you ripped his shirt off, and ran your nails lightly down the exposed skin. he exhaled sharply and started toying with the waistband of your shorts. then me moved down, gripping your ass under your shorts causing you to moan into his mouth. he kneaded your asscheeks for a little bit longer, then slowly pulled off your shorts. you became suddenly embarrassed when you remembered you weren’t wearing underwear. “fuck” chris sighed as he ran his cold fingers through your folds. you whimpered loudly. “oh my god chris” he then dove his ring and middle fingers inside of you, causing your back to arch. this action made him hit all the right places, as he pumped his fingers in and out. “c-chris don’t stop, i’m almost there” “come on you got it pretty girl” that action made the knot in your stomach snap as you released all over his fingers. he then looked you in the eyes and sucked his fingers clean. you went back to placing sloppy kissed all down his neck. you felt how hard he was through his pajama pants, so you began to palm him. he jolted forward slightly, and let out a loud moan. “y/n please” he begged “do whatever you want to me” you slowly pulled down his pajama pants and his boxers, releasing his hard dick. you then began to take him in your mouth starting at just the tip. you swirled your tongue around and licked up his slit, then in one swift movement you took as much as you could in your mouth, causing you to gag. “fuckkkk” he groaned gripping a handful of your hair. you repeated the same actions, using your hands for what didn’t fit in your mouth. “i’m gonna c-c” he tried to say, unable to form a sentence. suddenly white strings of cum shot down your throat and spilled out your mouth a little, causing it to run down your face. you continued to suck him off through his high. after he finally came down, you swallowed, and wiped the corners of your mouth. you then sat up positioning him to line up with your entrance. you rub his length down your folds a few times and looked him in the yes. “i don’t know if i c-can.” he whined with tears in his eyes. “you want me to stop?” “no! please don’t stop!” that was all the clarification you needed. you then lifted yourself up, and slowly sunk down, both of you moaning uncontrollably. chris’s grip was so strong on your waist it felt like he could crush you. you rode him as he filled your ears with praises. “ just like that. you’re doing so good, don’t stop fuckkkkk” and you filled his ears with needy moans. eventually you felt yourself clench around him, signaling your release. your clenching made him twitch signaling his release was close behind. you both rode out your highs before you lifted yourself off of him and collapsed on top of his bare chest. “guess it’s gonna be a fun week”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

my first fic i hope you liked! ❤️

[penny00dreadful]

Rookie Mistake

AO3

17th August 2023

Someone was following him home. 

They were keeping their distance at least. But they'd been keeping their distance through the last three turns.

They could, at the very least, try not to make it obvious what they were doing.

Usually someone following him wouldn’t be a problem. Steve was an expert at what he did and losing a person who was tailing him was easy.

Or it used to be anyway.

His back had taken much longer to heal than any of them had expected and he’d been told his chances of walking again were fifty-fifty. Pretty much a coin toss.

But he’d started to get the feeling back in his legs again around the three month mark. While all of it still hadn’t returned and the doctors were unsure if it ever would, he could at least walk again.

He couldn’t move as fast nowadays, though the cane helped. But it didn’t help enough to escape from his followers' sight.

He was slow, he couldn’t run and he couldn’t stand for extended periods of time. 

He could walk for even less. Which was probably why Claire at the gas station had kept shooting him concerned glances. 

Walking to and from there was pretty much the extent of what he could do in a day. 

Barely fifteen minutes there and back, but enough to have him exhausted and trying to keep the pain at bay.

Eddie was gonna lose his fucking mind once he found out. He worried too much. Steve still remembered the first words he heard when he woke up in the hospital.

“If you ever do that to me again, I swear to god sweetheart, I’ll take you out myself.” Spoken through teary eyes and with shaking hands as he reached for him, like if he didn’t touch him immediately Steve would drift back off into a coma.

This was the first time Steve had been home alone for an extended period of time since he'd been recovering. Eddie had looked at him with a stern pointed finger and an order not to do anything stupid.

So of course he had decided he was going to walk to the nearby gas station to pick up some of their favourite snacks. 

They were gonna do a lazy streaming binge session later that evening, complete with a blanket fort like little kids, when Eddie got back from helping at the garage with Gareth.

What else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t drive anymore. He didn’t have the strength in his legs for the pedals.

And the gas station was just outside the estate they’d chosen to settle in. Eddie had wanted to be closer to his Uncle Wayne and be able to see his friends again and Steve could never refuse him that.

Except now he was limping home, cane in one hand, paper bag of junk food in the other, with pain and exhaustion shooting up his legs, right into his weakened back. 

He could barely even focus on the space around him, he was concentrating so hard on just putting one foot in front of the other and getting home without passing out from the pain, never mind fighting off an assailant.

In his heyday he wouldn’t even have had to think about how he would handle this situation.

Now, however. Now he felt so fucking helpless. 

There was a gun concealed in a secret pocket just inside the front door. If he could just get to it, he might make it out of whatever this was. 

Even though Steve was on medical leave and Eddie was… retired, old habits die hard. They’d never not be trained to be killers and expect something around every corner.

God, he’d been so stupid. This was so stupid. Eddie would never let him hear the end of it. 

Steve would be lucky if he could keep upright once he hit the front door, everything was so painful.

But Steve was well versed in pain. Literally trained in it. Torture, interrogation, field medicine, pushing past injuries to get the job done. Steve had handled it all, always dreading the idea of being put behind a desk. Even now he was determined to make sure that didn’t happen. 

No offence to Robin and her job. He’d be dead ten times over without her but it just wasn’t something he could fathom doing. 

There was a mentor position opening up though. 

Dimitri was retiring to spend more time with his family which meant that Steve could possibly be looking after the new recruits in the near future.

Y’know.

If he didn’t fucking die here and now at the hands of some idiot lacking subtlety.

As far as anyone in the neighbourhood knew, Steve had moved to the area with his husband while recovering from a catastrophic fall, which wasn’t exactly incorrect.

The best lies were the ones that had truth in them.

And the neighbours had all been very… neighbourly. It was a little foreign to him. He was used to growing up in upper class neighbourhoods where he would maybe shoot a quick smile and a hello towards the couple across the road but apart from that, he pretended they didn’t exist and vice versa.

But here, though it was a solid middle class suburb, they all actually spoke to each other. 

Bastien would usually chat while he was out walking his golden retriever named Bread. 

Lucy and Anthony, a couple in their eighties, knew everything about everyone and gave them the best neighbourhood gossip. 

Sandra loved hosting a cookout and invited them every single time. 

Even the neighbourhood kids were all very sweet for a bunch of teenagers.

Best of all was their next door neighbour, Chrissy.

She had knocked on their front door with a freshly baked apple pie in one hand and an invite to her big blowout divorce celebration in the other. It was only the day after they’d moved in and Steve had hobbled downstairs to find her and Eddie chatting like they’d known each other forever.

Steve had originally worried they were only being included in these events as the token queers of the neighbourhood. Just so all these middle classers could pat themselves on the back for their diversity but those worries were quickly put to rest.

Their acceptance was quiet. It wasn’t braggadocious. It was sweet.

Chrissy's divorce party had been a wild night full of karaoke, an obscene amount of chinese food and glass upon glass of pink, glittery, fruity cocktails. 

All things that Jason had hated. 

Things Chrissy loved. 

Things she hadn’t been able to enjoy in her own home in years. But now she was free to do whatever her heart desired. 

Chrissy deserved way better than Jason anyway.

She had leaned into Eddie’s side and taken Steve’s hand in hers and slurred that she wanted “what you guys have. You’re so sweet to each other. How long have you been together?”

They had made eye contact over her head with raised eyebrows. 

The start of their relationship was always a bit of a blurred line.

“Seven, eight years maybe?” Eddie had said, holding her steady with an arm around her waist.

“Really?” She’d asked, blinking her big eyes up at the two of them. “That’s such a long time. Jason and I got married after a year. Don’t do that.” She added, pointing back and forth at the two of them. “It’s a bad idea.”

Steve patted the hand that was held in his. “We won’t. Don’t worry.” 

Especially considering they’d already been married two years by then. 

As the night wore on and more and more stories had come out about what Chrissy’s marriage had been like, Eddie had offered, with three cocktail umbrellas in his hair and a Pink Lady in his hand, to hunt Jason down and make him disappear. 

Chrissy had giggled with a roll of her eyes. 

"Oh sure, you big softie.” She said as she lightly swatted his arm. “If he starts calling around unannounced again, then go ahead."

Eddie had smiled, sweet and innocent, but his eyes had been sharp and hard and Jason needed to watch his fucking back.

Steve had been able to convince him to at least give Jason a warning the first time, before he completely wiped the guy from existence. 

But only one warning was all Eddie would concede to with a pout and a mutter of ‘You’re no fun’. 

If Jason couldn’t take a hint and kept coming around after that, it wasn't Steve's problem anymore.

In general their time in the neighbourhood was nice. It was domestic. The area was safe and sleepy and naive to most of the wrongs of the world. 

It was something Steve and Eddie had never had the chance to have, especially considering the start of their relationship had been so… combative.

Which is what made the guy trailing behind him stick out like a penguin in the desert.

He was unfamiliar.

In an ill fitting black suit that looked like something out of a bad spy movie and greasy slicked back hair.

Steve wasn’t scared of him. 

He was clearly inexperienced. 

Or just stupid.

The guy kept his gaze locked on his target, one hand constantly in his pocket and a look of grim determination on his face. 

Obvious.

But he also seemed to be growing in confidence too. Getting slowly closer and closer.

Steve kept his pace slow and relaxed, trying his best to hide the pain and exhaustion he was feeling sinking into his back and down his legs.

And trying to hide the fact that he knew a fucking idiot was tailing him.

If some fucking newbie gang member or whatever was able to take him down because Steve couldn’t help but push himself, he was going to be so pissed off.

All he needed to do was get inside. 

Unlock the door, get inside and he’d be able to grab one of their concealed weapons and take care of whatever this was.

Easy peasy.

Or it would have been easy peasy if not for the second guy.

The second guy who’d descended on him just as he pushed his front door open, looping an arm around his neck. 

He dropped his bag and his cane, scrabbling against the hold and just barely brushing the hidden gun compartment with his fingers before he felt it.

The sharp sting of a needle in his neck and the cold of whatever it was spreading through his veins. 

The last thought that ran through his head before everything went black was that Eddie was going to be so dramatic about this.

He didn’t know how long it was before he woke up but he could take a guess.

It was an empty warehouse he was being kept in, if the bare concrete walls, metal roof and high ceilings were anything to go by. 

The windows were right at the top, only letting the barest sliver of orange daylight through. 

The sun was low enough Steve guessed he’d only been out for an hour. 

The whole place smelled of damp and was shrouded in shadow, the only light being that bit of orange sun and one bare light bulb hanging over his head.

Brimborn Steelworks, he thought. 

He could smell the sea air, hear gulls outside, and the warehouse had been abandoned for as long as they’d been in the area so it was a pretty safe bet.

Just outside the circle of light he was washed in, he could hear muttering and bodies shuffling around. 

About four by his estimation, along with the sound of metal parts shifting against each other. 

Guns. 

Fantastic. 

Just what he fucking needed.

His hands were knotted behind his back, not even tied to the chair he was sitting on. Who used rope to tie people up anymore?

Aside from certain… intimate circumstances, Steve hadn’t had to deal with rope in ages.

Not since… well.

It was usually zip ties or duct tape that were used. 

Much quicker, much easier to conceal in pockets or pouches.

And judging by how he was tied, fingers pointed downwards, inner wrist to inner wrist and just a bit too tightly, these guys had absolutely no experience with ropes. 

Kinky or not.

They hadn’t even bothered to blindfold him.

Or gag him.

Eddie would have never been so sloppy. He could’ve done better than this to Steve with his eyes closed and on a Tuesday afternoon.

If he was at full strength, he’d have been able to manoeuvre the weak bindings of his ropes until he was able to tug them free and kick the shit out of the closest guy until he got his hands on his gun.

Then he’d be out of here and on his way home before Eddie had the time to properly spiral.

But he wasn’t at full strength, he could barely even pull against the binds around his wrists, tugged at an uncomfortable angle behind his back. 

Not a gentle angle and not at the proper straining points he was used to. 

The rope was rough and harsh against his skin instead of the delicious soft bite of the silken binds.

But it was fine. 

He wouldn’t be here long.

“He’s awake.” A voice in front of him said. 

The accent was mostly American but with the slightest tinge of Russian underneath. 

Great.

Two men in ill fitting black suits with their guns held loosely at their sides stepped into the light. The other two stayed behind him, probably as some kind of security or intimidation measure. 

Well, it was nice to see them try. 

Cute almost.

“Hello.” Steve sighed. “Can you guys tell me what this is all about so we can get it over with, please?”

“Oh,” the one in front of him sneered, “he thinks he’s funny.”

“I think I’m very funny, yes.” Steve nodded, relaxing into the chair as much as he could.

The guy scowled. Clearly he hadn’t learned that sometimes having fun on the job was necessary. Helped alleviate stress. “You’re gonna answer our questions.”

“Sure thing, Drago.” Steve nodded. The guy really did look like Drago. Big meaty head and short crop of blonde hair. “Hit me.”

Drago smirked. “If you insist.”

With an almighty crack he brought the back of his hand down across Steve’s face, snapping his head to the side.

He could feel the blood welling up in his mouth where his teeth had cut into his cheek and the heat from the strike blooming over his skin that would no doubt turn purple within the next day.

God, never start an interrogation with violence. 

Fucking casuals.

Steve sucked at the blood pooling in his mouth and spat it at Drago’s feet.

“You’re going to regret that.”

Drago scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “Who do you work for?”

“Scoops.” Steve grinned with blood stained teeth and a nonchalant shrug. “Scoops Ahoy. That little ice cream shop at the mall?”

“Cute.” He sneered.

“Thank you.”

“Maybe you need more persuasion.” A voice came from behind him and a sharp blade was pressed against his neck. “How would you feel if I were to cut your pretty throat?”

Steve ran his tongue over his bloody teeth. 

“Do it.”

There was a stutter of movement as the four of them glanced at each other.

“You think we won’t?”

“No, go on, do it.” Steve pressed his neck against the blade which was immediately pulled away. “You think you can get more answers out of my dead body?”

The guy with the blade swung himself around to face him, digging the point into his cheek this time with a snarl. 

Steve couldn’t even be bothered to give him a name in his head. 

He’d be Knife Guy. 

Didn’t matter. 

He’d be dead soon.

“Or,” Steve continued, “do you think that I’m going to cower to any more of your threats now that you’ve just shown me you’re not willing to kill me?” He laughed. “Never start with your last resort.”

The tip of the blade was dug in deeper and dragged across his cheek, cutting into his skin but Steve could barely feel it as he distantly heard the sound of tires screeching to a stop outside.

No one else seemed to have noticed.

“We don’t need to kill you, we just need to make you talk.”

“Well,” Steve sighed, grimacing at the hot sticky blood running down his cheek. If he was lucky it wouldn’t scar.

If they were lucky it wouldn’t scar. 

“I suggest you hurry up, you’re running out of time.”

The four of them laughed. “You think your buddies are coming for you? We targeted you because you were alone and impeded. You had no safety net around you.”

“You sure about that?” Steve took in each of their faces, all looking so confident in a job well done. “You’re right, my buddies aren’t coming for me. If they were, you could take your time. But as it is you’ll all be dead in about,” he tilted his head, listening for the first distant gunshot, which sounded only half a second later, “three minutes so…”

“If not your buddies then who?”

“You guys seem a little new at this.” He said gently, like he was speaking to children. “Have you ever heard of The Shadow of Hawkins?”

Their blank faces told him all he needed to know. 

Fair enough. 

It was a fairly obscure name after all.

And a bit ridiculous.

“How about The Demon of Dresden?” He glanced around. “No? The Bloodyhanded? Ringing any bells?”

Steve blinked at them all in bewilderment. 

Did these guys know anything? 

The gunfire outside was getting louder and closer to their building and the guys around him seem to have finally clued in, clutching their guns tighter. 

Like that would do anything for them.

Steve refused to give them a moment of reprieve.

“Really guys? He’s gonna be so offended.” He shook his head, as though disappointed. “Well, maybe you’ll know him by his most famous title.” The last gunshot cracked through the air leaving a terrible silence in its wake. “Kas. The Betrayer.”

Every one of them flinched at the name, the colour draining from their faces as a door slammed open in another part of the building.

“He's trying to scare us.” Knife Guy swallowed. “Kas is dead.”

“He was." Steve nodded. "But you had to go and resurrect him. But here’s another one for you.” He grinned again, blood coating his teeth and leaned as far forward as his bindings would allow him, despite the strain on his back. “Who do you think I am?”

“Why does it matter?" The third guy spat, but Drago had a horrible realisation dawning on his face.

"You…"

“Who?” The fourth asked, whipping his head back and forth to look at the two of them. “Who is he?”

“He… you…” Drago shook his head, his full accent apparent now. “You can’t be!”

“Who gave us our intel?!” Knife Guy shouted at the others, also cottoning on.

“You…” Drago swallowed. “You’re his-”

“Sweetheart!” Eddie’s voice echoed around the warehouse seeming to come from all directions and none all at once.

Knife Guy was by his side in a flash with a fist in his hair and the blade pressed against his throat again.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Steve said, glancing up. “He’s very protective of my hair.”

His fist only tightened.

“Fine,” Steve shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Hey fuckos!” Eddie was still shrouded in darkness, completely hidden from view. “Tying him to chairs is my job!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh, for god's sake.”

Drago stepped in front of Steve, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest, pointing his gun towards the various dark corners. “If you want your-”

Four loud gunshots rang out, echoing throughout the room. 

Steve felt the warm splatter of blood across his face.

Four bodies fell to the floor, a clean bullet wound through three of their foreheads.

Knife Guy, the one who had his hand in Steve’s hair was screaming in agony, clutching his blown apart knee.

“An hour, sweetheart.” Eddie’s figure stormed out of the dark, coming to a stop just in front of him. He still had grease from the garage streaked over his cheek and embedded into the creases on his hands to go along with the copious amount of other people’s blood spattered all over his body. “I leave you alone for one hour and I have to answer a call from a worried Chrissy checking to see if everything's okay because our front door is wide fucking open. How did you go and get yourself kidnapped by Ruskies?” 

"Oh, I'm sorry, please continue to tell me how getting fucking ambushed outside our home is my fault."

"It didn’t start outside our home, did it?" 

Knife Guy wailed again and Eddie looked down on him with a cold glare. 

“Oh, sorry.” He said, not sorry at all. “I must have missed.”

With a simple squeeze of the trigger he put a hole through Knife Guys head and the screaming stopped. 

Steve expected Eddie to walk behind him to cut his binds but instead he just swung his leg out and sat himself down on Steve's lap.

"It started at that fucking gas station because you can't sit down for five minutes straight." Eddie pulled a small pocket sized first aid kit out and tilted Steve's head to the side. "Even if fucking Hippocrates or god damned Florence Nightingale rose from the dead and told you to take it easy, you'd still be ignoring their orders." He scoffed as he roughly pressed a butterfly bandage over Steve's cheek. "And you call me the hyperactive one." He mumbled.

Steve winced, glaring at him as Eddie pressed down particularly hard on one strip.

His mouth was still pulled into a deep frown but he stroked his fingers gently over Steve’s cheek, caressing his face with the gentlest of touches.

"You okay?"

Steve couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Yeah baby, I'm good. But they got the angle of my arms all wrong. It's really uncomfortable."

"Hmm. Well as an expert in tying you down to chairs, I'd have to agree. How dare they steal my thing. I fell in love with you when you were tied to a chair."

Steve raised an eyebrow, complete disbelief written on his face.

“Oh yeah?” He tried to bring their faces closer but he was impeded by his bindings. Eddie just gave him a feral grin. “Which time?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Tell me.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Eddie cooed. “No.”

“Asshole.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Would you mind?" He tugged at the ropes again. "My back is fucking killing me."

"Of course." Eddie muttered into Steve's mouth but never properly closing the distance while simultaneously lifting his weight up. “All you had to do was ask.”

With the bindings now gone, his shoulders and arms felt like fucking lead and the blood rushing back into his hands was causing terrible pins and needles.

Eddie was digging his fingers into Steve's muscles, trying to alleviate as much of the strain as he could.

Steve closed his eyes and groaned, his earlier ill-advised trip was catching up with him again and he was dreading having to walk out of this place. 

He just wanted to be at fucking home, in his fucking bed with his fucking husband.

Or maybe they could still do that naked blanket fort in the living room with a movie marathon and an obscene amount of snacks.

When he opened his eyes again, Eddie was on one knee with his back to him.

“Hop on.”

Steve grumbled but couldn’t find it in himself to argue, sliding himself forward, slinging his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and allowing himself to be carried off.

Eddie was strong and steady under him, barely flinching as he grabbed tight to Steve’s thighs and stood.

Their walk back was quiet and Steve wasn’t looking forward to the amount of paperwork that would have to be filed as a result of this but he hoped since he was still on medical leave he could get out of it.

The sun was starting to set outside, the sky splashed with brilliant shades of reds and oranges and pinks. Now that he was outside he saw he was correct about where he was being held.

Brimborn Steel Works.

Still got it.

When he turned his head back around to face forward he saw that Eddie had driven Steve's beloved bimmer here. 

The driver's side door was flung open and the car was at an odd angle, the direction and darkness of the tire marks behind telling Steve that Eddie had practically drifted into the lot at speed.

There were a few bullet holes in the doors and the passenger window was shattered but it wasn’t the worst that car had ever seen.

Bodies littered the ground around them, all in the same out of date suits Steve’s four goons had been wearing, all with the same guns, all with the same kind of build and all with slowly coagulating pools of blood and brains around them.

Damn. 

Eddie really didn’t hold back this time.

Steve looked back at his car. 

He couldn’t drive her anymore. 

Probably never would be able to again.

They’d talked about trading it in for a model with push-pull controls for his hands instead of floor pedals so he could have that freedom back.

But they hadn’t gotten to it yet.

Eddie had taken his motorcycle to the garage, he would have arrived home with it. Probably seen the front door wide open and a grocery bag on the ground like Chrissy said. 

It would have been quicker to get here on the motorcycle.

But Steve couldn’t ride on it. 

Not as a driver or passenger. 

At least not yet, not until he was further healed. 

So Eddie had come here with the car, either because of hope, stubbornness or pure confidence, knowing he would get Steve back.

Steve smiled to himself, tightening his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and burying his face in his neck, peppering little kisses on any skin he could reach.

“You okay back there?”

He could hear the grin in his voice as Eddie lowered him down into the passenger seat, turning on his knees to rest his forearms across Steve’s thighs.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled down at him. “Just… thanks for finding me.”

Eddie straightened up to his full kneeling height, taking Steve's face in his hands. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” He leaned up, pressing the softest of soft kisses against Steve’s lips, full of love, adoration, dedication. 

Steve could feel it pouring out of him and into his own body. 

The gentlest intimacy from a man who could cause so much violence. 

Eddie brushed their noses together. “I’ll always come find you.”

“You always say that.”

Eddie hummed. “Because I always will.”

AO3

A prequel fic set in this universe will be dropping next week 👀

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

[epigstolary]

The Middle of Nowhere, Part Two

I once said that my feeder didn’t have to do anything to keep me on his farm. That I was building my own prison there, bite by bite. And that’s still true — but only partly true. The farm may be a long way away from anything — town, other people, even the road that’s our only real connection to society — and it may as well be a desert island for someone too big to drive a car or walk further than the yard, but it isn’t my prison. Because my prison isn’t a place.

Things started to change when it got difficult even to go outside to our porch. I don’t mean they changed with my feeder; he was still as caring and doting as ever. He started bringing me my snacks once I got big enough that just shuffling out the front door took all my energy and attention. I had to watch where I placed every step of my bloated legs, laden with fat that looked like bags of cottage cheese, and hold on to the walls and the railing along the porch to keep my belly and chest fat from sloshing sideways and pulling me over. Even those few steps left me breathless and my heart pounding by the time I got settled on my bench; but it was worth it to have a plate of his biscuits and gravy or chicken and dumplings, under that big sky beyond our little farm, gilded with another sunset. And even when my bench finally gave way after one too many helpings of both, he dusted off his woodworking kit and put it back together, reinforced and better than new.

But by then, we both knew it was only a temporary fix. It wouldn’t be long before there’d be no way I could maneuver myself out there every day, and he could tell how being cooped up inside would drive me crazy after a while. If I was going to do anything other than sit mostly alone on the couch all day, we were going to have to find another way.

His first innovation was to invite people over for dinner — farmhands, friends, folks he knew from town that he could get to come to me even if I couldn’t go to them. And they were good company, in a lot of ways; they’d bring a taste of the outside world with them. They might talk about how the crops were doing, recount some recent anecdote from working out in the fields or going into town, opine on some petty local politics or gossip. And it was nice to hear about something other than what was going on within the confines of our little farm — an outside world that it was increasingly impossible for me to get to. But really, it was hard for the focus not to turn around to me. Nobody was ever rude the first time they met me; but it was rare not to see either a reaction of stifled surprise, or else a glassy look of unseeing, a conscious attempt not to notice the half-ton of fat flowing and bulging out of my ill-fitting clothes.

It didn’t help that, with me never leaving the farm, there weren’t many topics of conversation other than myself and food that our guests could engage with me about. When the conversation didn’t turn to recent meals or my favorite foods, which usually elicited at least warm agreement about the country staples forming much of my diet, it turned to how I spent most of my day. We’d do our usual face-saving song and dance about what I did to take care of the house while my partner was out working in the field — all of it lies, and increasingly transparent lies as my limited ability to even move became more obvious at higher weights — and how I was getting ready to start losing some weight. I’d talk about how I really wanted to get healthier, get out and about more often; and they’d smile and nod, giving tepid approval and encouragement.

The thing is, I really did mean it. I really did want to get down to a size where I could at least walk around outside again, maybe even drive a car into town and go to the little greasy spoon like I used to. It was becoming discouraging to have every step, every reach, every movement blocked or restrained by the fat smothering every inch of my body. But our guests knew full well I didn’t have a prayer of keeping to a diet or an exercise routine. It was even more obvious to those who’d visited before, and who saw me even more bloated, even more out of shape than the last time they were there.

The actual meals certainly made them think that, if they hadn’t before. My partner would serve a spread fit for a dozen people — something like a barbecue buffet, a whole turkey with all the fixings, a tray of lasagna — and I’d end up eating everything that was left after the others had their fill. Long after their places had been cleared away, I’d still be gobbling up the heaping plates my partner would keep bringing me until every scrap of food was gone. Since I couldn’t last very long at the dining table anymore, usually we’d sit around the living room, and they would basically watch me gorge myself — tits and chins wobbling as I’d chew, plate sitting on my enormous belly so my blubbery arms could rest on the sweep of my side rolls while I cut and speared each bite. It was obvious to everyone, I guess even to me, that I was never going to drop a pound if I couldn’t resist completely abandoning myself to food like that. By the end of the meal, I’d be stuffed full, taking up the entire couch and looking enormous, almost too drowsy from overeating to notice the expressions passing between our guests, their looks of amusement or disgust or astonishment at what was apparently a typical dinner for me. Sometimes they’d even whisper about it, thinking I was asleep. I wasn’t.

From the front window of the house, I could watch them drive away, taillights receding toward that distant road where proper civilization began again. Probably recapping the dinner and my obscene size and appetite with horrified amazement. They’d been merely passing through, tourists in my isolated bubble, visiting their friend’s or boss’s blob of a partner out of courtesy but with no real desire to bring me into the fold. They could make things more tolerable, but they’d never be any real help in connecting with the world again.

Then one day, my partner’s beat-up old pickup disappeared, and he pulled into the yard in a gleaming new one, looking unusually excited for him and expectantly at me. I was puzzled — by that point, I was already too big to heave myself up into the cab of any pickup. But then I saw the truck bed — more specifically, the crane and winch rising from the front corner. My stomach did a somersault at the sight of him rigging up a harness meant for lifting cows and pigs into the bed; it was a way to let me get off the farm, sure, but at a pretty steep price in dignity. It was as good as an admission that I’d eaten myself far too fat to rejoin the world like a normal person, probably for good.

But the temptation to be somewhere else, anywhere else, was too much. A day or two later, my partner was helping me waddle out the front door and down the steps toward the driveway. Months indoors had obscured just how much my body had changed in even that short amount of time. My legs had both bloated considerably and weakened since my last walk through the yard, making every step like having to lift heavy bags of molasses just to advance a few inches at a time. My belly hung lower and broader than I remembered, physically holding back my steps and making it harder to twist my upper body to steady my walk. My side rolls and bicep blubber fought one another for space, pushing my arms up and sending fat bunching around my neck and shoulders. I was an out-of-breath mess by the time I maneuvered myself around and collapsed into the harness.

The sensation of my weight being lifted slowly off the ground, suspended and moved by an object completely out of my control, sent a surreal thrill through me. My hundreds of pounds, cradled in the harness, wobbled and jiggled with its slow movements, and for the most part I had no choice but to be carried along with my body’s jostling inertia. Even more than usual, I was buried under my immense belly and tits, my bloated legs were lifted level with the rest of my body, and my flab-laden arms — if they’d even been strong enough to do anything — had nowhere to grasp to help stabilize my sloshing bulk. The crane and winch cracked and creaked as it labored to move my weight, lifted me over the sides and into position facing the tailgate, and lowered me onto some foam padding my partner had arranged into a kind of makeshift couch against the rear window. I didn’t fill the truck bed — but there wasn’t room to sit next to me, either.

I’ve never felt a mixture of emotions like I did on that first drive back into town. On the one hand, it felt so amazingly free — finding myself on that once impossibly-distant road, our farm receding into the distance as fields and hills sped by. Fresh air, and the wind in my hair. But then, as buildings grew closer together and we started rolling into downtown, my blood ran cold — I’m a half-ton blob taking up most of the back of a pickup truck, too fat to walk or move, coming to town like a circus attraction, I thought. People were going to react.

I’m sure a lot of it was in my mind. I’m sure I was self-conscious, reading intent into every glance and word and gesture, most of the time when it wasn’t there. But it felt like every last person in the town had turned out to stare at my huge form being paraded down main street. Me looking out over the expanse of lard occupying the truck bed and smothering my body. Blubber sloshing uncontrollably every time we turned a corner. Kids pointing at the enormous fatty passing by, their shouts being stifled by nervous and disgusted parents. Skinny people casting sideways glances at the pickup, stopped at a stoplight, as they muttered to each other amid broad grins.

And that was when I realized. It didn’t matter where I was — on the farm, in town, on stage with a million people watching. I had let myself get fattened past the point where I could exist in this world and connect with it ever again. Even when I was right in the middle of it, I was as far removed from these people as if I’d still been back on the farm. I’m never going to be walking around with them, shopping with them, just existing in the spaces they exist in. I literally don’t fit in, even if I could haul around all the blubber I’ve accumulated under my own power. And I’m just as alien to them — someone five times their weight, who can’t control their appetite any better than to get this big, someone they can deride or pity or judge with impunity.

On the drive back to the farm, under a starry indigo sky and with a backseat full of fast food from the town’s only chain, I had to wonder about my feeder. Whether he really was trying to get me out of the house. Or did he know? Had he already figured out that I was too big for it to matter where I was — that the thick rolls dominating my body and the sacks of fat hanging off my limbs would keep me his, even if I’d tried to get someone to help me leave? That this drive would do nothing more than to show me a world, a life, that my fat — his fat — would never let me go back to?

The thought lodged in the back of my mind as he gently helped hoist me, every inch wobbling and quivering, out of the truck bed. He led my bulk, step by exhausted step, back inside and to my usual divot on the couch. And as he got me comfortable, spreading the buffet of greasy, fatty food out before me, and as I bit into the first of ten thick double cheeseburgers, his too-kind smile and his gaze that lingered on my bulging gut for an instant too long told me everything I needed to know.

The farm isn’t my prison. My body is.

[fatkish]

Hi, I wanted to request a little scenario where Shoji sees someone forcibly kissing reader and intervenes, comforting them afterwards please.

I had something happen years ago where a coworker did this, I was craning my head away but otherwise kinda froze up while he kissed all over my face to my mouth. It was in public out in the open and no one did anything so I just waited for it to stop naturally. I always wished I had done something to protect myself, but it would feel kind of cathartic to have a "do-over" with my current comfort character as well lol. Thanks for your time.

Thank you so much for your request. I hope you enjoy this and that it helps. Mezo is one of my personal favorites so I love getting requests for him. I hope you’re doing great. Thank you and enjoy

Mezo Shoji x Reader: Forced Kiss

(Trigger warning: this post contains mentions of one forcing themselves onto the reader past the cut, Please be advised, thank you)

You worked at a small restaurant that sold street food such as Takoyaki, Gyoza, Dango, Yakitori, etc.

Pro heroes often stopped by on their patrol for a quick snack since the owner had instated a first responder discount

This discount took 15% off of the total price of any order made by police, doctors, pro heroes, firefighters, EMTs, etc.

The food was good and the time it took from placing and order and receiving the order was good

Tentacole, or Mezo Shoji, often passed by this shop and ordered from it on his patrols

He might not have been the most popular hero, but he was very kind, polite and respectful. He was humble and never let the fame get to his head

You had often been the one to serve him and take his order whenever he stopped by

One day, you noticed a customer that frequented the shop and often flirted with you, kept eyeing you

After a bit, you grew kinda uncomfortable, so you told your boss

When you moved to take the trash out, that was when the creepy customer followed you out and around back

After you threw the trash in the dumpster you turned around and the guy was in your face

You tried to dismiss him and walk around him but her grabbed your wrist and pushed you up against a wall

Unknown to both of you, Mezo had heard the small scuffle and rounded the corner into the alley between the buildings where you were

Seeing a man trying to force himself on you, he decides to wait for the guy to close his eyes

At that moment Mezo grows a mouth on the end of one of his ‘tentacles’ and sneaks it in between you and the guy

“You really shouldn’t force someone to accept your affection especially if they don’t want it, that’s no way to treat anyone, let alone this kind young lady. Now I suggest you apologize and rethink your approach before you try this again on anyone else”

The man, grossed out as well as having been officially creeped out for having kissed the faceless mouth, quivered apologized before running off

“Are you alright? Do you need anything? Do you want me to walk you if or when your shift is over?”

Ever the gentleman, he told your boss what happened and he gave you the rest of the shift off

Mezo walked you home and if this was the start of a relationship, well, you wouldn’t be so opposed to that

[eldritch-spouse]

How do I land myself some Voragussy?

Would something like this work:

I summon him

He looks at me expectantly, wondering what I want

“Oh wow, sorry, I didn’t really expect to get this far,” I look embarrassed and rub the back of my head sheepishly, a light blush on my cheeks “now that you’re here do you wanna hang out though? I have snacks…”

That will make him more suspicious than anything.

You don't just accidentally summon the Queen of Gluttony's firstborn. Where did you get his sigil?

He immediately keeps his eyes peeled for any sign of a trap, not letting his guard down. When Vorago doesn't smell, see or sense anyone nearby, when he notes that he's been summoned into what amounts to the middle of nowhere, he looks down at you almost with pity in his eyes.

You're in for a loooong lecture about randomly deciding to summon infernal beings. And it's only because you're an adorable human that he tells you summoning a royal without justification many times warrants death- So do not make this mistake ever again.

While Vorago doesn't have time to simply lie around and chit chat -You did request him from out of nowhere, and he answered believing you to be someone else- The glutton leans past your frankly pathetic salt circle and weaves his fingers through your hair, past the back of your head, urging you to look up at him.

As payment for this act of disrespect, you will spend a day by his side in Gluttony.

[lovergiirlsblog]

Deep end

Summary: Y/N who’s struggling with infertility started to distance herself from Mason. How will the Chelsea boy react ? Will they work It out in the end, or have they already fallen into the deep end ?

Warnings: Mention of infertility, a lot of angst

Note: This made feel so emotional. Hope you like it. Also I might make a part 2 of it.

Please listen to this song while reading

Negative.

Once again, negative.

I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror: red rims around my puffy,bloodshot eyes , rosy nose and cheeks. I’ve been crying for an hour now. I sighed and unlocked the bathroom door after throwing the pregnancy test in the bin. Mason and I have been trying to have a baby for a year now but every single test we did turned negative. And I’d be lying if I say that this whole situation hasn’t affected our relationship . We’re not who we used to be, and I don’t know if we can ever go back to the couple that we used to be.

I grabbed my phone to find a text from Mason.

From Mason:

Stacey is home. I invited her and the whole family :)

To Mason:

Of course. I’ll prepare dinner.

I no longer tell him about the test results. It’s something that I’ve decided because what’s the point of telling someone over and over again that he won’t be a father?That he won’t have a kid to teach how to play football. He always plays tough when he’s around me but I know it’s killing him too. I,once,heard him gasp from crying when he thought he was alone at home. And honestly,I don’t want him to be torn every time. I kept the grief to myself.

When Mason is around I always try to act occupied with work or sleep early just to avoid him. I don’t know why but I often find myself refusing his sex offers,thankfully he was understanding and never forced me to do something that I don’t want to.To me making love isn’t about having fun with the man you love anymore, it’s just a procedure to get pregnant… but will always end with disappointment.

Sometimes I look at him and think: Won’t he be happier with someone else ? Won’t someone else give him what he needs whenever he wants to ?

“Hi” he whispered when he walked in the kitchen.Hi, good morning, good night is all that we say to each other lately. “Hi” i greeted him without making eye contact. I can’t look at him. His eyes remind me of my failure. Uncomfortable silence filled the room. How the hell did we turn into strangers that live together? “ I, um, I’ll be upstairs. They should be here in an hour” he mumbled awkwardly,scratching the back of his head. I nodded and watched him disappear upstairs. I finished dinner and changed minutes before the doorbell rang. When I went back downstairs I found Mason opening the door. Summer,Poppy and Harley jogged towards him and wrapped their tiny arms around his legs. He lifted them one by one to plant a kiss on their cheeks.

“Aren’t you going to greet us Y/N” I didn’t realise that I was staring at Mason and the kids when Lewis joked. I hugged him tightly and explained” I’m sorry. I blacked out. Hello everyone please come in” I squeezed all of them and we all went to the living room. I grabbed some drinks and snacks and sat next to Mason who had Summer on his lap. They were both laughing. Every laugh breaks my heart a little bit more.

“ Since you’re home now,will you come to Stamford bridge and watch me play ?” He addressed to Stacy who was wiping Poppy’a mouth with a napkin. His arm wrapped around my shoulder-just like the old days- and it’s the first physical touch we had in a while. I didn’t push his arm away actually, it was the first time that I feel comfortable with him touching me. Maybe because we weren’t alone?

“Of course I’ll come to watch my baby brother”

An hour later,I,with the help of Lewis and Stacey,set up the dinner table. And we started eating.

“So how are you two,love birds?” Mine and Mason’s gaze landed on Stacey and we both faked a smile “We’re okay” we said at the same time.

“Are you staying in England for a long time ?” I tried to have a conversation with her to break the awkward silence and be a good host.

“I’ll leave right after New Year’s Eve. By the way the food is so delicious.”

“I know right. She makes the best food. Mason is a lucky bastard.” Lewis quipped.

“I know I am“ I glanced at him and frowned my eyebrows.

“Thank you guys.I’m glad you liked it”

The kids finished first and wanted to play with Mason while Debbie insisted that she will clean the table. We watched as Summer covered Mason’s eyes from behind and innocently asked him to guess who’s behind him. “Um.. I’m not sure.Is it Lewis?” He played along making them giggle so hard “ No.Uncle Mase it’s me Summer”.

I found myself smiling so big, but I looked away when my eyes met his.

“He’s so good with kids. I’m sure he’ll make a great father one day.” Stacey rested her head on my shoulder”Are you considering having kids ?” I looked down at her,her gaze was still on Mason and the kids.

“I-I can’t-“ I didn’t know what to say but thankfully Jasmine unintentionally saved me “ Can we go home ? I’m so tired and sleepy”. We said our goodbyes and they immediately went home leaving us alone,again. After closing the door,Mason approached me ,wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close without any warning. “Mason-“ I tried to gently push him away “Mason please”. He stopped and looked in my eyes. His eyes were full of hurt and devastation. “I can’t even hug you now ? Great. That’s great!” He laughed in disbelief.

“Why didn’t you tell your family ?” I ignored his sentence.

“ tell them what ?” He frowned.

“ That I can’t conceive.. that I can’t give them what they want. That I can’t give YOU what you want” my voice cracked.

“ Why do they need to know ? » he sighed « We’re young Y/N and we can always try again if that’s what you really want.I still have hope.”

“Hope?” I laughed “Hope is the most devastating thing. Hope is cruel.”

Would I be this shattered if I didn’t have hope ?

“ Kids aren’t what I want anymore. You know what I badly want ? I want my wife back. Yes I would be happy if we had a child but I would be happier if i still had the old Y/N.Whoever is standing in front of me right now isn’t the girl that I loved. I feel like I don’t know you anymore Y/N. Are we together just to have kids ? What about love ? What about you and I Y/N ?” He ran a hand through is hair” how did we end up like this ?” His voice was full of hurt. I looked down at my feet and mumbled”The girl that you loved won’t come back. I’m sorry.” I stared off into the distance,trying so hard to hold back my tears.

“That’s all you got huh ? I want to help you Y/N, but you keep pushing me away. Do you think I didn’t notice you crying in the bathroom whenever you think I’m asleep ? I didn’t want to force you into talking about it I wanted you to willingly open up to me so we can work it out together but you never did. And I can’t take this anymore. I’m so sick of you treating me like a stranger.”

He shouted,fist pushing the wall and walked out of the house leaving me sobbing with my head in my hands. Of course he’ll get sick of this. But he’ll never understand how worthless I feel when he slightly touches me. I don’t know why he has never lost hope or why he has never given up on me.

Four hours passed since he left and I was starting to worry. Has something bad happened to him ?

To Declan:

Hi sorry for bothering you but I wonder is Mason at yours ?

From Declan:

No he’s not here. Is everything alright ?

To Declan:

Yes. Don’t worry. Good night Dec !

I put my phone on the sofa when I heard the sound of keys in front of the door and rushed to open it and reveal a very drunk Mason leaning on Ben. His eyes were so tipsy, I’ve never seen him this drunk before. After putting him on the bed and going back downstairs Ben stated” Look Y/N, I don’t know what’s going on between you both but Mason isn’t okay at all. He has been playing like shit lately if you haven’t realised it yet. Also he usually never drinks when we have training the next day but look at him now.. Potter is going to scold him so bad tomorrow” I bit my nails titling my head down and nodding “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry Ben. Thanks for telling me”

I grabbed a glass of water,and walked to the bedroom where he was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling “Here drink this it might help” I handed him the cup.”Y/N?” He called”Why don’t you love me anymore ?” His words hit me like knives,straight in the heart.Did I really cause all this damage? He doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. He deserves so much better. So much better“ I still love you”

He chuckled taking a sip from the cup of water “weird way of showing it” I helped him take off his shoes and change into something more comfortable. “You need to rest Mason. We’ll have this conversation tomorrow when you’re sober enough”

“You don’t even look into my eyes when I’m sober enough” he wiped his eyes” I’m trying to help you heal Y/N. I can’t lose you. If you need space I’ll give it to you, just please don’t leave me” his voice became weaker and weaker as he shut his eyes. His soft snores were heard minutes later. I pulled the blanket to his chest and pushed the hair that fell on his sweaty forehead. “I’m so sorry for burning us down” a tear fell from my eyes and landed on his cheek.

I put my luggage in my car as soon as the sun rose and left a letter on the nightstand next to Mason.

Dear Mason,

I’m sorry I left without telling you. But it’s honesty what I needed. I wanted space so I can figure out our future together. Unfortunately, I couldn’t accept the fact that I am infertile, and it makes me feel less of a woman and I’m deeply sorry for treating you that way, I let my selfishness take the best of me. Every time that you try to get closer, I get flashbacks of how I felt the last time that we tried and had a negative result. You, my dear Mason, are the most important person in my life and I can’t thank you enough for trying to help me but no one can help me except myself in this situation. I promise I’ll be back weather as the old Y/N that you knew or with divorce papers. You don’t deserve to go through this Mason,so if I will still feel the same, I’m afraid I’ll let you go. You can be happy with someone else and start a family. Until then, I love you more than life. Please try to understand and don’t be mad.

PS: I left some painkillers on the nightstand x

Yours sincerely,Y/N.

[rainisawriter]

A Helping Hand – Cobra (PSF #11)

PSF Ficography | H&F Flash Ficography

Genre: Fluff, slice of life, romance

Prompt: Sweet Tooth (@flufftober) / Would you rather… pumpkin spice or cinnamon? (@slumberpartybingo Fall Flash)

Word Count: 2,729

Pairing: Reader x Cobra

World: High&Low

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You entered the diner, enjoying the warmth it offered against the cold wind outside. The usual suspects were chilling at the table in the center of the room, eating the omelet that Naomi had made them while they argued about some TV show the three of them were watching.

You approached the booth in the corner where Cobra sat, flipping through a wrestling magazine. He sent you that soft smile that was reserved only for you as you sat down across from him.

“You’re late,” he spoke softly, eyes falling to the ring on your finger. He had given it to you for your birthday as a promise that he would always love you. Though you had sworn to never take it off, he still felt surprised and happy every time he saw it on you.

“Sorry. You know how Hyuga is,” you shook your head, tugging off your jacket. “A lot of people are gambling around this time of year, trying to win big before December finally gets here. It’s only going to get busier and he’s only going to get more demanding.”

Cobra did not like the fact that you worked for Daruma’s gambling hall, but you had known Hyuga long before you ever crossed paths with Sannoh. He had considered, on more than one occasion, asking you to quit working for him but he knew that you were, above all else, loyal.

“You don’t need to apologize.” He held his hand out and you smiled, setting yours against his own. “Just promise me you won’t gamble again.”

Your smile turned sheepish, a laugh passing your lips. You had only gambled once in your life after you had gone drinking with the Daruma babies one weekend. You were on a hot streak, actually, but you refused to quit while you were ahead and ended up losing everything.

You had started out with twenty bucks, turned it into ten thousand only to lose it all and walk away with just twenty cents to your name. The Four boys hadn’t done much better, either, and Hyuga was pissed when he found out. You were pretty sure he was just upset that you hadn’t blown it all at his gambling hall instead, honestly.

“I learned my lesson, I swear. I’ll never gamble again.”

He chuckled, nodding his head. “Good.”

It was pretty late by this point, so the boys slowly filed out of the diner until it was just you, Cobra and Naomi left. It was strange when the diner was quiet, but you didn’t hate it. Everyone needed a break from the rowdy Sannoh boys every now and again.

“Are you kidding me?” cried Naomi, sounding distressed.

You glanced over at her, seeing her begin to pace back and forth as she talked to someone on the phone. 

“There must be some way… can’t you reschedule? Ah, no, I… yes, I understand… I’m sorry about that, but…” She pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly frustrated but trying to remain polite. “Yes… yes, I understand, Nakamoto-san. Good night.”

You exchanged a concerned look with your boyfriend before addressing her. “Everything alright, Nao?”

“No, not at all.” She ran a hand through her hair, continuing to pace.

Cobra leaned forward, brow furrowed in concern. “What is it?”

“You remember how I was asked to help provide snacks for the elementary school’s autumn festival, right?”

He nodded.

“The job was supposed to be split between me and Nakamoto-san, the head of the PTA but she just told me that something came up and she can’t help. There’s no way I can do it by myself! What am I going to do?”

You frowned, standing up to comfort her. “It’s alright, Nao. I’ll help.”

“You will?” She looked at you hopefully. “Are you sure? I know you’re really busy with Daruma…”

“Don’t worry, Hyuga owes me some vacation time anyway,” you grinned. 

“Are you sure he’ll give it to you?”

“Nothing is ever a sure thing with him, but I’ll find a way to get out of work.” You gave her a reassuring look. “I’m not very experienced with baking, but I know how to follow a recipe. If you write down everything I need and how to make them, I’ll happily help.”

“Thank you so much!” She threw her arms around you, hugging you tightly which you returned without hesitation.

Cobra felt butterflies in his stomach as he watched you. You were willing to blow off your responsibilities with Hyuga to help Naomi, to help a member of his family. The amount of happiness that brought him was, quite frankly, embarrassing. 

“I’ll help, too.”

Naomi looked between the two of you with glassy eyes. “Thank you both so much! I’ll get to work on the lists and recipes.” And then she disappeared into the back.

Cobra approached you with a warm smile, wrapping his arms around you. “Thank you for helping her. Let me know if Hyuga gives you a hard time.”

“I’m always happy to help your family, Jun.”

He hummed, brushing his lips against your own. “They’ll be your family, too, one day.”

You chuckled, looping your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at his nape. “I don’t think so. I’ll always be Daruma and, well… we caused you guys a lot of trouble at one point. They may be willing to put up with me because of you, but I doubt they’ll ever view me as part of the family.”

His brow furrowed in concern. Had one of the Sannoh boys said something to you? Thinking about it, he hadn’t really discussed it with the others. You just started dating one day and he started to bring you around without asking how everyone felt about it. He knew Yamato didn’t trust you at first, but did he still feel that way?

You poked the spot between his brows. “If you keep frowning like that, you’re gonna get premature wrinkles.”

His lips formed your name but you cut him off, knowing what he was going to say.

“It’s really not a big deal, baby. I went into this relationship knowing that they most likely wouldn’t accept me and I honestly don’t blame them for it. As long as I get to be with you, that’s enough.” You tugged him closer until your lips met.

He didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, but his mind was partly elsewhere. It was enough for you, perhaps, but not for him. He wanted them to accept you, to love you like he did. He didn’t just want to be your boyfriend, he wanted to be your everything like you were to him.

Having his family accept you and love you was important to him.

“Okay, this should be everything.” Naomi returned with a small stack of papers, pausing when she saw how close the two of you were. “Am I… interrupting something?” The sly smile on her lips said that she already had her answer.

You laughed, pulling away from him. “We were just keeping each other company until you returned.”

“Sure,” she chuckled, handing you the stack. “I printed out the recipes for you. Each one has a full list of everything you’ll need to make them and if you have any questions, I’m just a phone call away.”

“Nice. When do they need to be made?”

“The festival is tomorrow afternoon,” she winced, running a hand through her hair. “We need to start working on them tonight if we want to make it in time… I’m sorry, I should have told you that first… it’s probably too short notice, right?”

“I’ll make it work and yes, I’m sure.”

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, turning to look at Cobra and holding out your hand. “Up for some late-night shopping?”

“Sounds fun.” He slid his hand into your own, fingers lacing together.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

As soon as you returned home, you started to look over the recipes while Cobra put away anything perishable. None of them seemed too complicated so you felt confident that you could make them with little to no problem, especially with Cobra at your side.

“What are we making first?” He leaned on the counter beside you, peering at the recipes. 

“What do you think?”

“We should probably choose whatever takes the longest to make so we can get it out of the way.” His eyes scanned through pages before tapping the one for the Sakura Mochi. “This is the longest, so let’s start with it.”

“Okay, let’s see. We’re supposed to soak the sweet rice for at least an hour and soak the sakura leaves for fifteen minutes.”

“Easy,” he grinned, grabbing two bowls and filling them with water. “We have to wait for them to soak, so which recipe is next?”

“Purin! We have to combine the sugar and water into a saucepan. Medium heat until the sugar has dissolved.”

Cobra did as you ordered without question, enjoying how domestic this all felt. He could definitely get used to this and was already making up excuses in his mind to get the two of you cooking together again.

For the rest of the night, the two of you worked together to bake the various treats requested by Naomi and you felt as if you were making pretty good time, all things considered. You did end up getting into a flour fight with Cobra because he kept trying to steal some of the finished treats, unable to fight his sweet tooth.

You were proud to say you had won that fight, though the messy kitchen was a reminder that you both had lost the war.

You yawned as you looked at the final two recipes, trying to decide which one you wanted to make. You had messaged Naomi about your progress and she told you that there were plenty of treats between the three of you. You should have gone to bed since it was nearly five in the morning, but you wanted to make one last thing first.

You hummed, thoughtfully. “Hey, Jun?”

“Yes, love?” He glanced over at you from where he sat on the couch, looking half-asleep.

You leaned on the counter, smiling at how cute he looked, even with bits of flour stuck to his blonde locks. “Would you rather have pumpkin spice cookies or cinnamon cookies?”

He thought about it for a moment, shifting to a more comfortable position. “I’ve never had pumpkin spice cookies before but I know you like them. I choose those.”

“What if you don’t like them?”

He hummed, closing his eyes. “I’ll like anything you make.”

“Such a hopeless romantic,” you teased softly, walking over to cover him with the blanket. You brushed the hair away from his face, fingers lingering on his cheek longer than necessary.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, though you really couldn’t blame him. All you wanted to do was sleep, as well, but you decided that making these cookies was more important. He had worked hard and, though he did attempt to swipe a few treats, he had mostly behaved.

Cobra was a man who loved sweets. More than anything, he wanted the sweets that you had made with your own hands because, to him, they tasted all the sweeter. You had honestly always wanted to bake for him, but you had just never gotten around to it for two reasons.

The first was because Hyuga kept you so busy that you rarely had the time or energy. The second, which was probably more important, was because you were afraid. Afraid that they would come out terrible and he would hate them, yet he would still force himself to eat them because he loved you.

You slapped both of your cheeks at the same time, shaking your head to wake yourself up. You were going to make these cookies for him and he was going to love them, not just because you made them yourself, but because they tasted amazing.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

Cobra woke up several hours later, the apartment still smelling like sugar, pumpkin and various other sweet flavors that made his mouth water. He expected you to be asleep in the bedroom but you weren’t. You had fallen asleep at the island, the other half of your body draped over the countertop, arms acting as a pillow.

All of the treats had been wrapped up or placed in containers, ready to be picked up by Naomi. He glanced at the clock. There were still a few hours left before she was due to arrive so he had time to clean up. Before doing that, however, he wanted to take you to the bedroom. That couldn’t be a comfortable position to sleep in, after all.

He brought you carefully into his arms and you shifted closer to his warmth, mumbling incoherently in your sleep about pumpkin sugar cubes and honey tea. With a chuckle, he placed you gently in bed, bringing the covers over you so you wouldn’t catch a cold.

“Sleep well, love,” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. It took a while for him to get the mess cleaned up and he was sure he had missed some flour somewhere, but that was a problem for the future.

There was a knock on the door and he headed over to open it, drying his hands with a dish towel.

“Good morning,” greeted Naomi, looking tired but pleased. 

“Morning.” He stepped aside to let her in. “We got everything done and ready to go.”

“Thank you so much for the help. You two really saved me.”

“Don’t mention it. We were happy to help. Do you want some coffee?”

“I wish I could stay for one, but I have to get these to the school.”

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’ve got it,” she smiled gratefully, packing away the containers into the reusable bag she had brought with her. When she picked up the final container, she paused, a smile coming to her lips. “Pretty sure this one is for you.”

His brow furrowed as he took the plastic container from her. An orange sticky note sat on the lid with his name written on it next to a cute little heart. When had you made these? He realized it must have been after he fell asleep and he couldn’t help but smile, warmth filling his chest.

“I’ll see you later,” said Naomi as she headed for the door. “Thank you again!”

“Be safe, Naomi.”

Once she was gone, he grabbed one of the cookies from its container, taking a small bite. It was his first time trying a pumpkin spice cookie so he was a bit weary at first, but the flavor exploded on his tongue. Maybe he was crazy, but he felt as if he could feel every ounce of love you had poured into them.

With a smile, he returned to the bedroom, sliding under the covers and pulling you into his arms. You didn’t hesitate to snuggle further into his chest, adoring the way he smelled and how warm his body was.

“What time is it?” you mumbled.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, brushing his fingers through your hair. “It’s almost nine.”

“Shit, Naomi will be here soon.” You tried to sit up but he tightened his grip, keeping you in place.

“I already passed them along to her. Go back to sleep.”

“You didn’t give her the cookies in the plastic container with the blue lid, did you?”

“No, love,” he answered softly, unable to hold back his smile. “You didn’t have to make them for me.”

“I wanted to. I hope they came out tasting good,” you muttered, looking up at him tiredly.

“They taste amazing.”

“Do you mean that or are you just saying that because I made them?”

“I mean it.” He cupped your cheek, leaning down to rub his nose against yours. The gesture was cute and sweet, but it left you feeling embarrassed. “Thank you for making them.”

“If you want… I can bake for you more often?”

“Please,” he replied quickly before clearing his throat, color rising to his cheeks. “I’d really like that.”

“Consider it done, then,” you laughed, snuggling closer to him and closing your eyes. 

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

-> High&Low/Rampage Taglist: @kiraaaeon, @simpforchuchu, @star2fishmeg, @thatpoindexterpixy @manhwabtch

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

[yunacoeur]

care - kim taerae

a/n: just a blurbie about taerae taking care of you after a long day of work!

zb1 | kim taerae, fluff and comfort, mention of food, he’s in love you’re in love, there’s literally nothing else just that 🫶

“oh baby,” he murmurs softly, in his tired and raspy voice as you walk in the door. he can just feel the tiredness and frustration radiating off of you, “come here,” his voice feels like a hug from across the room, warm and comforting. you set your stuff down and walk over to him with what little energy you have left and immediately collapse into his arms.

he catches you, obviously, wrapping him arms around you and patting his hand against your back soothingly, at a steady rhythm.

“everything sucks, tae,” you mumble. he can’t see you pout but he hears it in your voice and it pulls at his heart just a bit.

“i know, baby. i know,” he says, raising his hand up to pat your head, his fingers brushing through strands of hair, “it’s okay. you’re home now and it’s all over. i have food waiting for you and i picked out a movie i thought you’d like. let me take care of you.”

he knows it’s usually you taking care of him, and he likes it that way. he likes that you fix his hair and his clothes and make him snacks when he hasn’t ate all day and bring him water to his dance practices. he likes being yours because of how sweetly you treat him.

but he’ll always step up to care for you when you’re in need of some extra love and attention. it warms his heart to see your exhausted smile turn into an excited one. he’ll always care for you. that’s just what you do for each other.

you eat the food he ordered for you as you chat about your day, who pissed you off, what was the stupidest thing you heard, why you had to be there at all. he wishes he was successful enough to support you so you didn’t have to go through this every day. he’ll get there, and he’ll accredit you for everything.

“and it’s just so dumb because why would you put someone with no experience in the most important position while i have to pick up the slack? i’ll tell you why, it’s because they know i will because i’m a hard worker, those evil little-” you rant, but then stop when you make eye contact with him, “nevermind, sorry. i should stop thinking about it all.”

“we’ll do whatever you want. talk about whatever will make you feel better,” he smiles that pretty smile at you, and suddenly all those intense emotions are gone.

“then, can we watch that movie?” you ask, and how could he ever say no to you?

the movie ends up playing as background noise as he rubs your shoulders. you sit in between his legs with your back facing his chest, “you did great today, my love.”

“i just have to be so fake at work. i only feel like myself when i come home to you,” you say, venting your frustrations to him. he listens with open ears as he massages down your back.

“at least you’ll always be able to come home to me and unwind,” he kisses the top of your head when you lean back against him, grabbing his arms to wrap them around you. he giggles at your clinginess and tightens his hold, like he’s protecting you from the world.

“i always wanna come home to you,” you say with a yawn. he feels giddy just thinking about a future with you.

and as you fall asleep in his arms, laying against his chest, he doodles small designs on your back. hearts and smiley faces and stars and moons and suns. it’s mindless for him and comforting to you. he hums a couple melodies for you, and that’s enough to have you dozing off immediately.

and just a few moments later, “oh honey, i love you so much,” he says with a kiss to your temple, “i hope you wake up tomorrow well rested, and i hope you feel better and feel energized. i’m always gonna love you and take care of you, so you don’t have to worry about anything, okay? goodnight, my love,” he knows he’s talking to himself because you’re dead asleep, but as long as he says them out loud, albeit softly, he knows you heard him.

[matenrou-fan]

Hello can you write about ichiro hitoya and samatoki hitting their s/o by accident

Ichiro, Hitoya and Samatoki hitting their GN!s/o by accident

Such a strange request yet here!! Hope you will enjoy it!

GNreader, comfort, just wholesome stuff;;

-Honestly the one way when he can raise his hand it's during some childish game, when you two just fool around and try to catch each other.

-Especially if it's tickle fighting, when your boyfriend is just too carried away in his wish to win and finally pins you to the bed with hands around your waist.

-So when you would try to resist, pushing him off and tickling his sides at the same time, Ichiro just wanted to respond with a grasp on your arm, but overdid it.

-"Here, finally catch you..!" - this sudden hit on your shoulder makes you gasp in confusion, and his smile fades away as fast as your own. - "A- S/o, a-are you okay?"

-Even if you sound so loud due to the unexpectedness of this action, not from pain, Ichiro would anyway feel so guilty as if he did it on purpose.

-So all games will immediately stop as he leans closer to check out the hitted place while repeating apologies, mixed with a bunch of questions about how you feel. If it's actually that bad he would bring some ice, absolutely ashamed of his behavior.

-"I'm so sorry, s/o.. How can I call myself a proper mature man if I can hurt my most precious person so easily..?" - Ichiro looks almost like an abandoned puppy in the rain. No, he's not trying to make you forgive him through such puppy eyes, it's just really the way your boyfriend shows his guilt towards you.

-Only after a few times as you said it's alright, he would feel more easily. Yet still, Ichiro would be really careful for a month or two, being pretty slow and gentle during another tickling game or some playful fight.

-Despite his pretty harsh behavior, there's no way he would exchange something more than a few angry words with you.

-And this old man doesn't really like all these bratty games, he has enough of such energy thanks to Kuko's attitude. So with him, it's actually just an accident, as sometimes in the morning he's still so sleepy..

-Went to bed late, woke up early.. There's no way he would understand more than half of your words before drinking at least one cup of coffee with his favorite snack - cigarettes.

-"Honey, can you check the newspaper-" - light pain that erupts in his left elbow and your sudden gasp makes Hitoya wake up better than any coffee that he was trying to make. - "Ah- Shit, s/o, are you alright?"

-If it was someone else, he would probably just scoff, scolding them for getting too close to him from behind. Yet with you he would be much softer, even when his head still hurts from lack of sleep and he can't think straight.

-Well, of course he would check if you were alright, worrying a little about just how bad he hit your spine with probably all his strength. But Hitoya didn't feel that much guilt. He didn't see it coming!

-So all apologize that you would have some sloppy kiss on your forehead and a few headpats as Hitoya mumbled about being more careful and everything.

-"Mm? What's with this gaze?" - he put away a newspaper and chuckled, noticing your feigned frown. - "Oh, I didn't apologize properly? Huh, maybe I should then kiss your poor hurted back? Get closer, dear.."

-Well, but despite such teasing, your lover would leave a mental note about watching his back before turning around. And probably give himself more sleep and rest, so he wouldn't be that sluggish.

-Ok but. No matter what you would do or say, there's no way he would show this aggressive side of himself to you, you're his dear lover, after all. If you ever get that deep inside his heart, then he immediately would place you in the most sensitive part of it.

-And Samatoki is really overprotective, so there's not that many accidents when you bump into each other or hit without purpose.

-But it doesn't matter that even your attentive boyfriend couldn't inadvertently do something. Especially after a long hard day.. He just came home and sat on the couch, and your arms around his shoulders as you stand behind him the only thing that can help him feel better.

-"Ah.. Babe, I missed you so much today.." - A long tired sigh escaped his lips as he tossed his head back to look up at you but instead hit your nose, not knowing that at the same time you leaned closer to kiss the back of his head.

-For a moment you both pulled back, groaning in pain, but of course Samatoki would turn to you first, feeling absolutely guilty. His own pain doesn't matter that much as yours, especially due to the fact he's the one who's done it.

-Doesn't matter if this hit was really strong or not, Samatoki would bring everything - ice, handkerchief, aid kit, even some cold water if you start crying. In one second he turned from just a boyfriend to an overprotective over worried mom, that's how it feels.

-"I'm so sorry, my dear.. Here, look at me.." - his hand slowly caresses your back as he softly smiles at you. - "Ah, don't worry. Your nose is as pretty as before, so don't cry, okay?"

-But despite such playful talk, he actually would apologize a few times this evening, being even more clingy and cuddly than usual. Your boyfriend just doesn't want you to think about that too much, kissing your poor face gently while promising to be more careful next time.

[phantom-heartbeat]

Does anyone with Cs/WCS wanna chat about it?

Does it feel like you're more of a zombie? A vampire? Something else?

Does it fluctuate or stay the same every episode?

What conditions do you have influence it and how (if any)?

What are the main and rare physical sensations?

What are tricks that help you? How did you find what works and what doesn't?

What makes it worse?

I'll start.

I often feel a mix of creatures, undead or generally nonhuman. But primarily zombie, vampire, siren or some sort of living dead thing that either isn't supposed to be on land or function like a living human.

It fluctuates a lot every episode, more often than not when I don't realize it is an episode i feel cybernetic or robotic, I'm only starting to recognize that as my more common episodes now. The more subtle ones at least.

My anemia, arthritis and other physical disabilities I have all effect it, but having DID means it can change and present differently based on who's fronting too.

My anemia makes me cold as a corpse most days, low blood circulation and pale complexion in top of being a walking icicle has made me a target for vampire comments growing up, my need for iron often feels like a thirst for blood. It can also feel like a hunger for flesh especially if I haven't eaten or slept properly when you take my Ed and insomnia into count.

The aches caused by my arthritis and chronic pain are more often than not soothed by water, making me feel like I need to go back to the ocean or sea to get out of this human skin and feel better and more free where my body is better suited. I often find myself violently scratching at my skin either because of eczema or something else which only contributes to the idea

That list goes on for a while

The main sensations are completely weighted like my body is just actual dead weight, heavy limbs and all, manual breathing switches on and my joints and limbs ache like they're going to fall off or are sore from being locked rigor mortis or because they're currently in rigor mortis. I'm not sure how to explain it but I'll also feel as if organs are missing.

There's also rarely ever feeling hunger and if I do it's cravings, not the sweet tooth kind, same with the need for other bodily functions.

Some rare feelings are a drill going through my head, not in the headache sense, my heart briefly stopping, things crawling on or under my skin, electricity running through my body and my teeth changing.

Tricks that sometimes help me are eating something, a snack or a meal just help me remember the body still needs it, checking for my pulse though it can be a hit or miss if the episode is really bad, and something cold like ice to shock my senses into resetting and waking up.

I found out most of them through anxiety attacks or times I felt really sick, I just kept using them because they seemed to help. There was a bit of trial and error, I found people reassuring me I'm alive and basically reality checking me doesn't help at all just makes me uncomfortable to be around them at worst and in one ear out the other at best. Often when someone tries giving me reassurance my brain treats it as a bold faced lie.

Mentally my depression and trauma or triggers all make the episodes worse, especially if I have trouble finding my pulse on my neck out of panic, or times I just can't taste things or my senses feel off. But overall times I feel sick are when my brain starts getting convinced I'm on my deathbed any second now or the body has finally given up.

I'm happy to answer any questions

What's it like for you?

[nogenderbee]

TYSM<333 Ok- so like obey me boys(everyone but if you don't want to I'm thinking Levi, Satan, Solomon, Beel and Belphie) x reader who's a witch? Like practices divination, tarot, spells, maybe deity work? I'm a witch myself and I practice most of these things. (If u need any help can can totally help u with like practices, and other things witches practice)

Thank u<33

~Indigo🎠

Oh my yes! All Obey Me squad was a little too much so I picked your preferred team! To be honest I was interested in witchcraft some time ago but then gave up, although I still do tarot! So I hope I won't get much things wrong and that you enjoy <3

Levi, Satan, Beel, Belphie, Solomon with witch!reader

SPOILERS: for lessons 16 not sure if it's this lesson tho- for Belphie

⊱ oh? So you're a witch? Huh, maybe that's how he will get second elder give him his money back...

⊱ those are first thoughts Levi had when he discovered that you're a witch, second thoughts were like "alright, definitely not pissing them off and not going out of my room untill exchange program is over" do I really need to mention he HAD to get out at some point?

⊱ at first he's very distant from you, not only he's scared of socializing but he's also not good at it, so he doesn't want to accidentally piss you off and experience witch's wrath

⊱ although as the time pass and both of you warm up to each other, he starts seeing you as character from that one anime with way too long name where main character was a witch!

⊱ whenever you practice any witchcraft while he's around, he'll get excited saying how he saw the exact same or similiar enough spell in anime

"OMG!! You're just like the main character from [insert way too long anime name] while they were casting spell to kill the final boss blocking their way!"

⊱ he's too scared to help you with anything though... so I'm afraid you'd have to ask one of his other brothers

⊱ Satan definitely figured out by himself that you're a witch, be it because of reek of magic or maybe cards he saw peeking out of your bag

⊱ definitely knows some spells that you don't and uses it asking you for many favors which depend on your relationship

⊱ he'll either ask you to pull a prank on his eldest brother or something like that or will tease you asking for passionate kiss if you're together

⊱ if you ever want to practice something, he's always up for that since he knows a lot and he probably will be very helpful for you

⊱ but don't expect him to hold back any criticism, although he's not completely mean either, he'll just say his honest opinion and then tell you better way to do it

"You're really casting it like that? Sure it is good if you want to risk your life. Before you do all of that you should..."

⊱ definitely asks you for tarot reading before pulling a prank on Lucifer and depending on the result, he'll either do it himself or make someone else do it for him

⊱ don't worry tho, he won't use you, he might not be scared of you but he still doesn't want a witch to be mad at him

⊱ Beel is probably the only one who doesn't care if you're a witch or not

⊱ like... it's nice that you know magic so well and you're interested in it because he's really supportive of it but he doesn't see why he should see you in other way

⊱ as a demon, he met witches (maybe not much, but he did) and mostly didn't had anything against them

⊱ if you ask him tho, he'd gladly help you with whatever you might need, just expect he'll be snacking a bit while doing it

⊱ but if you specifically told him not to eat while helping you with anything you might've wanted, then he'll try his best to not do it but expect him to not last long

"YN... we have been doing it for a while now... can I just get myself one small snack?"

⊱ if it happens that he knows a spell or anything that you don't, then he'll even offer himself to help you with it

⊱ I LOVE BEEL, HE SO TEDDYBEAR

⊱ definitely gets you any resources you can't necessarily get yourself

⊱ Belphie knew you're not a normal human the first time you entered the attic

⊱ I mean... demons can tell if someone or something is magical or not, so it's not a surprise that he could tell that you have much to do with magic

⊱ and so when he finally discovered that you're a witch, he kind of started to consider if you're not gonna turn him into a frog after killing you like some witches would

⊱ but once your relationship gets better, he becomes really supportive of all of this

⊱ he knows a bit of spells so he'd be glad to help you with some if you'd ever need any help

⊱ he's probably also interested in tarot reading or divination, so you can give him reading for practice with sure that he won't make fun of you because he'll fall asleep faster

"Don't worry, everyone needs practice... I can asleep while you're doing the reading tho, right?"

⊱ to be honest, he's probably a little scared to fall asleep around you tho, especially first few days after killing you

⊱ likes to scare second elder with "be careful or they'll turn you into a frog!", his reactions are just always extremely funny

⊱ Solomon was already interested in getting to know you since the two of you were only humans on Devildom but when he discovered that you're also interested in magic, he become interested in you even more

⊱ he definitely would love to exchange spells, potion recipes and much more with you

⊱ everyone is afraid of you to be honest

⊱ like when you're together, there's high chance you'll end up experimenting with magic and all

⊱ you literally don't even know how many times the two of you failed at casting spell because of distraction that none of you expected (if you're experience tho, fault is probably at his side to be honest)

"Oh, another failed experiment... but I think we're getting closer and closer to discovering our first goal."

⊱ definitely keeps contact with you even after exchange program

⊱ so after your year ends, everyone is relieved because Devildom is not in danger anymore but now human realm is

⊱ you guys would be chaotic duo, I know it

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

[sonicsbfwannbe]

Wait that was KENTA??

Summary: Kenta makes progress in feeling comfortable around x-hunter. Very heavy on Alan being a supportive and perfect. (Its rush pls don't judge to harsh I beg)

3rd pov

After everything that had happened X-Hunter and friends more or less taken Kenta in. While he had contributed to the terrible things Tony was doing it was pretty clear that he never actually wanted to and at the end of the day he was a good person forced to do bad things.

Kenta was appreciative of the fact that they were so keen to have him around but that didn't mean he didn't struggle to be comfortable. He couldn't bring himself to do or ask for anything if it could potentially even slightly inconvenience someone.

He didn't doubt that they were happy to do things for him or even just be there for him but he had never been allowed to want and asking Tony for something usually had its consequences. He felt as if he still wasn't allowed to ask for anything not that he would even know how.

He also didn't feel right joining in on the way they all teased each other. The playful jabs that would be met with a light hearted sarcastic comment. What if they took him as actually being mean? What if he just wasn't allowed? He just couldn't risk losing what he had with them.

Fortunately he had a new family that was very stubborn.

Kenta pov

"North and Sonic are gonna go to the store tomorrow to stock up the pantry at the garage is there anything you want them to grab for you?" Alan asked me. I've been working there doing paperwork since everything calmed down and I really enjoy how kind everyone is here.

"No it's okay I don't need anything," I tell him. This is true while I do have snacks and drinks I like I don't actually need any of them. I know that's not the answer he wants but that's all I can bring myself to give for now.

"Kenta that's not what I asked and I know that it's hard for you to ask for things and I also know that one conversation is not going to fix that but I promise you that we all want to be there for you. We want you to join in on the jokes. If we didn't we would not have welcomed you here so for the love of god please just tell me what to add to the list for you," Alan lectured. I noticed he was like that, always making sure everyone knew they were cared for. He was genuinely the kindest person I've ever met. Not that it was much of a competition.

"Uhm... I really don't know, maybe just some sports drinks," I was so caught off guard by how blunt he was being. Even though I did believe him I still couldn't breathe as I scrambled for something to request.

"Okay good, you can text me or one of them if you want a particular brand or flavor or if you think of anything else."

I nod before he turns to walk out the door probably to keep asking around.

"And Kenta, I'm proud of you for asking I'm sure that took a lot but that is what we are all here for. We are family here and we really hope that you will see us as such when you are ready," Alan said and slips out of the room with a smile.

Oh-

*1 year later*

Alan pov

It's been a slow day at the garage which to most people would mean calm. People idly doing their work at a comfortable pace in no rush to get a million things done. Not at X-Hunter though, not for me.

Slow day means that means that everyone is running around and being loud. Not for work but just enjoying themselves as they work. I absolutely love these days just my boys without weight on their shoulders just free to have wreckless fun.

Unfortunately today I got to be the central target for any teasing and wrestling. I would absolutely never tell any of them but I kind of enjoy it, they would never let it go.

I had spaced out watching them chase each other around when I suddenly have someone lunge on my back to start wrestling. Of course it was North ever the problem child.

"Why must you do this to me while I was minding my own business," I ask him more of a rhetorical tease than an actual question.

"Because it's fun duh," North retorts as he tries to put me in a headlock.

"Careful old people's bodies are sensitive you don't want him to throw his back out do you," a voice behind me speaks casually.

"Hey I'm not that o-" I start as I turn around. Wait was that Kenta?? He didn't even look up and just continued filling out paperwork but he had a noticeable smile on his face.

The entire garage was quiet from shock. Everyone had turned around to check that they heard it right too. If it wasn't for the smiles across everyone's face they might be mistaken for being upset.

"HOLY SHIT KENTA IM SO PROUD!!"  North shouts as he runs to hug Kenta. Me too.