#im feeling so burnt out at the moment and its only the beginning of my final major project

[cl3fairyyy]

routine : part 2 || edward nashton x GN!reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

summary || you and edward finally go on a date

warnings || eddie is a liiiittle more stalker-y in this one, smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of edward following reader home and just overall being his strange little self, this fic does get a little suggestive (no actual smut) so please MDNI!!!! i think that's everything, if i forgot anything i am so sorry </3 this fic is mostly just fluff with a side of awkward first date small talk

word count || 4.5k

notes || i am so sorry for the long wait on part 2!! been having the worst writers block of my life and my job has been taking over my life atm </3 but it is finally here!! i had so much fun writing this one, definitely thinking of doing a part 3 if u guys want it :)) apologies if at any point eddie is too OOC, he's definitely a little more confident in this one hehe. also this pic of paul is EXACTLY how I imagined him looking while writing this

You arrive back at your dingy apartment later than you had planned and, admittedly, a lot tipsier than you had wanted to be.  

You shove your key into the crappy broken lock that your landlord refuses to fix and jiggle it around for several moments until you finally hear a click. Opening the door, you sway on your feet a little before stumbling over to the couch, kicking the door shut behind you; when you plop down on the velvety throw you use to cover up the horrible cracking leather of your equally horrible sofa, you sigh and throw your head back, allowing a smile to play onto your face.  

He had asked you on a date.  

You keep replaying the interaction in your head, mentally swooning at how Edward had lit your cigarette for you, how he had been so close that you could smell the laundry detergent on his clothes. You giggle like a schoolgirl, hugging one of your cushions as you fish around in your bag for your phone. You have to suppress a giddy squeal when you are greeted with not one, but three messages from a random number, one you can only guess belongs to Edward. You feel dizzy unlocking your phone, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or your nerves.  

Hi, it’s Edward. I hope you have a lovely rest of your night.  

I really liked talking to you today. You’re a very interesting person.  

Are you okay? It's late, did you get home safe?  

It takes everything in you to not dreamily sigh like you’re in a fucking rom-com. He's concerned about me, you think, typing a reply with a lopsided smile on your face.  

hiii yes im fine!! just made it home : )  

im vry drunk lol  

Immediately the grey typing bubble pops up and you launch your phone across the room, scrambling to the fridge to open the half-empty bottle of slightly too expensive rosé that you have been saving for the next time you rewatch Fleabag.   

You hear your phone ding twice and gingerly pick it up from underneath the coffee table, your hands shaking.  

Oh, good to hear that you’re safe haha. I was about to head back to the bar to see if you were okay.  

That was a joke by the way.  

You can’t stop a smile from spreading across your face. You take a swig from the bottle and begin typing.  

yea im sure it was lol  

it was nowhere near as interesting after u left. u were in such a hurry too are u ok??  

Edward’s cheeks grow red when he reads your second message. You think he’s interesting? Are you hinting that you would’ve preferred if he stayed?  

Wish I could have stayed for a bit longer haha, just had some work at home that I couldn’t get my mind off, so wanted to take another crack at it.  

Obviously, he can’t tell you that his work isn’t just some simple tax fraud, but a potential money laundering scandal that ties all the way back to Maroni and your own boss. He knows at this point, though, that you’re too polite to question him.  

u sure do work a lot!!!! idk how u havent burnt out yet.   

try to get some rest if u can : ) its not like the work wont be there tmrw!!!!  

Edward smiles. You are so lovely to him; the idea that someone like you could show so much kindness to him makes his heart swell and his eyes fill with tears. A few run down the tip of his nose and plop onto his phone screen.  

I know, I know. Sometimes it feels like I can’t switch my brain off haha. It’s been in overdrive since I got home.  

He cringes at himself. Is he meant to text so formally? You're pretty much the only contact in his phone besides his landlord and the office. He glances down at his screen, noticing that you’ve read his message but haven’t started typing an answer, and immediately begins to panic.  

Of course someone like you couldn’t like him. He was a fool to think you were any different than anyone else in this shithole of a city. You’re probably still sat with your colleagues at that shitty bar, reading out his messages and all having a good old laugh at him. Everyone get a load of Nashton! you're probably saying, and he feels sick to his stomach.   

soso sorry my phone just died out of nowhere!!! i srsly did not mean to leave u on opened  

honestly i get u i can be like that. its probably worse for u tho bc ur so smart lol  

whats been sending the brain of eddie into overdrive tonight??  

Edward shakes his head at how silly he’s being. It would be funny if he didn’t feel so pathetic. He reads your messages over and over until his eyes burn; no one has ever given him a nickname before. Eddie. He rereads the nickname, trying to imagine how it would sound coming out of your mouth. His mind begins to wander, picturing you lying beneath him, bare chest heaving as you moan that name to him. Eddie.  

He's snapped out of his thoughts when his phone lights up again with a notification from his news app. He attempts to push down his building arousal before it completely clouds his mind, and scrambles for his phone to send you a reply.   

It’s a little embarrassing, but... I have been thinking non-stop about the conversation we had outside.  

I really would like to take you out, if you’ll let me. If you’d like to pick where we go so you feel more comfortable, I’m happy with that. I’m sure you know much nicer places to go than I do anyway haha.  

You squeal at your phone, kicking your feet in the air like a goddamn teenager. You hastily type a reply, and soon enough you’ve made plans for Sunday to go to a lovely downtown jazz club that plays live music. It's one of your favourite spots in the whole city.  

You fall asleep fairly quickly after throwing yourself on your bed still fully clothed. You don’t think twice about how bad your hangover will be when you wake up, instead picturing your date with Edward and just how lovely he is.  

Edward, on the other hand, stays up all night, his thoughts rife with anxiety. You'd had one conversation in a loud bar, and now he’s expected to keep you entertained for an entire evening? What if you didn’t find him interesting? What if he ran out of things to talk about? What if you stood him up entirely?  

He shakes his head, trying as hard as he can to shake the thoughts from his brain entirely. He opens your social media, which he has found himself doing every time he seems to be on the verge of a panic attack recently. He finds his favourite picture of you, a candid photo of you in a coffee shop mid-laugh, your eyes sparkling and cheeks rosy. He loves your smile in this picture.  

He hopes he can make you smile like that.  

Saturday goes by painfully slowly for you. The dragging hours aren’t helped by your awful hangover that seems to have convinced your brain that any slight movement will have you vomiting. You cringe rereading the messages you sent Edward the evening prior, hangxiety hitting you like a train.  

Eddie? Seriously?  

You have one conversation with the guy and have already started throwing nicknames around- you're in shock that you didn’t scare him off with how forward you were being. If he brings it up, you can always blame it on how drunk you were, which isn’t exactly a lie.  

He doesn’t text you until later in the evening, just a simple message confirming that you’re still on for tomorrow. You wonder if he’s as nervous as you are, if his anxiety manifests itself in the way he chews at his lower lip the same way you do.  

When Sunday finally rolls around, you wake up extra early to give yourself as much time to get ready as humanly possible. You would never admit it to anyone, but you’d picked out your outfit the night before and laid it on your desk chair, your nervous excitement barely allowing you to get a wink of sleep.   

Edward had offered to pick you up, but you really do not need him seeing the shithole you live in the first time he sees you outside of work. You both agree to meet outside the bar, and since it’s in walking distance from your apartment, you decide against getting a taxi.  

Gotham is strangely beautiful in March, the last moments of winter finally coming to fruition. The sun is just beginning to set when you step out into the chilly air, casting an orange glow on the old buildings and warming your cheeks against the cold.   

Edward’s heart races as he clumsily stumbles out of the subway station. He's almost twenty minutes early and grasps a cluster of lilies in one hand, the other of which he uses to steady himself against a lamppost. The lady from his favourite podcast whispers soothingly in his ear as he attempts to block out the loudness of the city and steady his breathing.  

“You are strong, and you are worthy. Be the change you want to see.”  

He closes his eyes, taking deep breaths before finally grounding himself. Edward is all too aware of how he must look right now: sweaty, clutching a bouquet of flowers while standing alone outside a bar. He glances at his watch. Still ten minutes until your meeting time.  

He tries to ignore the lump in his throat and the stinging in his eyes. You will show up. You have to.  

Edward jumps slightly when his phone chimes in his pocket. His heart drops when he realises it’s a text from you.  

so sorry!!! running a few mins late :/ decided to walk today and ofc that’s the day that every traffic light in the city decides to break LOL  

The light-hearted tone in your message doesn’t do much to comfort him. He types a short answer and sends it, trying to focus all of his energy on his podcast and not crying from how utterly terrified he is.  

Ten minutes after your initially agreed upon meeting time, Edward hears a voice shouting his name. He looks up to be met with the image of you practically sprinting down the street towards him. You pull to a stop in front of him, smoothing your hair down and smiling bashfully up at him. Christ, you forgot how tall he is.  

“Before you say anything, I am so sorry. First there was the traffic light thing, then one of my old college friends stopped me in the street and decided that she wanted to update me on every single day of the past three years of her life.”  

You breathe in heavily through your nose, your hands on your knees as you try and keep yourself from keeling over. You make a mental note to begin using that gym membership you keep renewing. Quitting smoking would probably help, too.  

You look up when Edward hasn’t responded for several moments, and his cheeks are very pink.  

“Look, you have every right to be pissed at me. If you want to cancel-”  

Before you can finish, Edward interrupts you by thrusting a bouquet of flowers into your hands.  

“Th-these are for you. I, um, remembered you mentioning lilies were your favourite flower, so...” He stumbles over his words, talking just a little too fast. 

You're quite literally lost for words. You examine the flowers, your cheeks growing warm; it's a lovely spray of pink, yellow and orange lilies, tied together with a cream ribbon. They’re a little crumpled, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a little plant food. You smile at Edward.  

“Oh, Edward. They're gorgeous, really, thank you. No guy’s ever gotten me flowers before...”  

A small, lopsided grin spreads across his face.   

“I can’t imagine why anyone lucky enough to have you wouldn’t get you flowers.”  

You flush at that, and loop your arm around his, leading him inside. You manage to find a nice booth in the corner, away from the stage and speakers that surround it while Edward heads to the bar. You anxiously drum your fingers on the table and scroll through your phone, not really paying attention to what you’re meant to be reading as your mind replays what Edward had said earlier.  

Edward watches you from the bar, admiring the high flush on your cheekbones and the way your outfit hugs your body. By the time he’s ordered and heading back to your table, you seem a little more relaxed. You smile at him gratefully as you accept your drink and try not to make your staring too obvious.  

He looks handsome. He's wearing such a basic outfit, just a simple button up shirt and some smart slacks, but there’s something about Edward wearing something so casual and making it look so good that has you crossing your legs under the table.  

“You look lovely tonight, by the way.”  

You smile shyly at him, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.  

“Thank you, Edward. I have to say, you clean up pretty good yourself.”  

He laughs, and you don’t miss the way it sounds like it's one of disbelief.  

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say that.”  

You roll your eyes playfully, taking a sip of your drink.  

“Well, I would. You look really handsome.”  

Edward shakes his head, a bashful smile on his face as he looks down, taking a sip of water. The pair of you sit there for a few moments in awkward silence, trying to think of something to start a conversation with. 

“So-” 

“You-” 

You lock eyes and both laugh, cheeks red. You wave your hand. 

“Sorry, you go.” 

Edward averts his gaze, fiddling with his collar. 

“I, um, was just going to ask how you found this place? I’ve never even heard of it. Well, I suppose the fact I don’t drink and don’t listen to jazz music doesn’t help, but...” 

Edward finds himself trailing off, kicking himself for how utterly awkward he is. The way you smile at him, unfazed, doesn’t help. 

How could someone like you ever find any interest in someone like him? 

“It’s a funny story, actually. My old roommate was on a date with this absolute dick, and she needed me to come save her. So, what happened was....” 

As you tell him the grandiose story of having to pretend to be your roommates' partner who caught her cheating, and how you had to run away when her date attempted to fight you, Edward can’t help but admire the way your eyes light up as you gesture wildly with your hands, the way your laugh comes out as an adorable snort when you attempt to do an impression of her very flustered date.  

You are so beautiful. He wishes he could capture this moment in a bottle and replay it every day, for the rest of his life. 

He doesn’t realise how much he’s staring until you clear your throat a little awkwardly, clearly finished with your tale. He can feel the warmth on his cheeks. 

“Ah, well, I do hope you don’t have some secret boyfriend who’s going to jump out on me like that.” 

He bites his lip after saying whatever the hell that was, but to his complete disbelief you laugh. Not a pity laugh, not one of discomfort, but a genuine laugh, one that’s just a little too loud, one that disturbs some of the patrons around you. 

You clearly don’t care, your head thrown back as that smile, that lovely smile from his favourite picture spreads across your face. Even as you speak, uncontrollable giggles escape you. 

“Oh God, can you imagine? Lucky for you, I’ve been single for a while, so don’t worry about my secret boyfriend coming in and trashing the place.” 

That makes Edward laugh, much to your pleasure, and just like that, the tension in the air has dissolved. You can see Edward’s tense shoulders visibly relax, and the next few hours are spent under the warm light of the bar’s lamps, your conversations hushed and filled with longing glances, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world that exist. 

The two of you step out into the bitter cold of the evening, hands fumbling for your respective cartons of cigarettes. Your shivering hands are somehow able to summon a flame from your crappy old lighter, and the alcohol in your system, as well as the way Edward looks at you with such adoration in his eyes, warm you from the inside out. He offers you his arm and you take it maybe just a little too enthusiastically as you walk through the city streets. 

When you look up at Edward, he’s already got his eyes on you, the tip of his nose pink from the late winter air. You can feel the flush spreading across your face, quickly averting your eyes to the sparkling lights of the skyscrapers. 

Edward retracts his arm from yours, and you look up at him again, confused and somewhat offended. He’s shrugging his parka off his shoulders and draping it over your own before you can even comprehend what’s happening. 

“You’re shivering. You might not feel cold because you’ve been drinking, but I can see the goosebumps on your arms.” 

He says this so matter-of-factly. Does he not realise how romantic and thoughtful his actions are? He opens his mouth to speak again, but you interrupt him. 

“Thank you.” 

He offers you that adorable lopsided grin that accentuates just how round and soft his cheeks are. 

“It’s really no problem. I don’t want you getting sick.” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s just how perfect the night has been. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. Before you can second-guess yourself, you’re removing the cigarette from between his lips and replacing it with a kiss. 

He's stiff at first, unsure, before you feel a hesitant hand on your face, thumb caressing your cheek. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can practically see the stars in his eyes. 

“...Wow.” 

You suddenly feel bashful, pulling away from him completely and taking a drag from your cigarette. 

“Sorry, I-” 

“Why are you apologising?” 

You meet his gaze again, his glasses fogged up, but not enough to conceal the way his brow knits with worry, the apprehension in his eyes. 

“I don’t know, I- I should have asked first.” 

He takes your hand in his own, his smile so comforting that you feel all your worries melt away almost instantaneously. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about asking me something like that. The answer will always be yes.” 

He kisses you again, softly, and you can taste the tobacco on his tongue, making your head spin. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, squeezing it reassuringly as he takes your breath away. 

You pull away first this time, readjusting his glasses which have slipped down his nose. 

“Do you want to come back to my place?” 

Edward’s face goes entirely red at your suggestion, and he stumbles over his words as he tries to string together a coherent sentence. 

“I- um, well...” 

You smile patiently, and he returns it somewhat hesitantly. 

“I’ve- I’ve really enjoyed our night together, and I, just, um... I like you so much that, ah, I don’t really think we should rush anything. You’ve had a bit to drink, and I would hate to take advantage of that.” 

Your eyes sting at his rejection as you attempt to muster up a tight-lipped smile, nodding stiffly. Edward’s smile drops. 

“Oh dear, I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” 

When you don’t quite meet his eyes, he sighs and gently holds your hand, giving you the chance to push him away. When you don’t, he pushes a little further, holding your chin between two fingers and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. 

“I’m not lying when I say I like you. I really do, and I would hate to rush something as important as... that... especially when you’re intoxicated. I don’t want you to have any regrets. You're too special.” 

Your heart leaps at his words, and you give Edward a small smile. It was never about him, or his comfort. He’s worried that you’d regret sharing yourself with him. 

“I... yeah. I guess I’m just used to guys only expecting one thing out of a date. I really like you too, Eddie.” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, offering you his hand. 

“Let me walk you home?” 

You nod, leaning into his side.  

Edward, of course, knows exactly where you live, but feigns ignorance as you take the lead back to your apartment. He'd know your building anywhere, thanks to his tendency to follow you home after work to ensure your safety, but being in front of it now, with you by his side, feels so fresh and new that it’s almost as if he’s seeing it for the first time. 

It's falling apart, of course. Every building in Gotham that isn’t owned by someone extremely wealthy is. Crude graffiti adorns the crumbling brick walls, and he feels you stiffen up beside him when you notice a couple of shady guys, probably dealing drops, only a few feet away. 

“It’s not exactly... the best area. Will you at least wait for your cab in my apartment? I really don’t want you getting mugged, or worse.” 

Even with his impressive height, you’re worried Edward could be a target. His smart clothes definitely don’t help. 

Edward can hardly believe his luck at finally being able to see the inside of your apartment. Of course, he’s seen it from outside your window when he’s perched on your fire escape late at night, but this is different. This is intimate. Even though he’d turned down your offer for sex, you’re still revealing such a personal aspect of yourself to him. 

You trust him. 

You lead him into the rundown building, apologising for the elevator that has been broken for months. He already knows that, but nods anyway.  

“That’s okay. Five flights of stairs won’t do me any harm.” 

When you finally make it inside, he perches somewhat awkwardly on your couch, his height making the piece of furniture appear ridiculously small. You curl up on the other side of the sofa, giving him his space as he books an Uber home. 

The silence is thick, but comfortable. Edward is so engrossed in his phone that you’re finally given the chance to really study his features. The curve of his strong nose that holds up his glasses, the roundness of his cheeks, the softness of his jaw. The warmth of the numerous lamps scattered around your apartment light up his face with a soft glow that makes him look almost cherubic. 

Edward glances at you, clearly feeling your intense gaze. He doesn’t seem anywhere near as nervous as usual, his smile relaxed. 

“You okay?” 

You prop your head up with your hand and nod, content. 

“You’re so handsome, you know?” 

His cheeks grow pink, his smile a little more shy. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. 

“Thank you.” 

You lapse into another comfortable silence as he returns to his phone, the smile never leaving his face. His phone chimes and he stands reluctantly. 

“Cab’s nearly here...” 

You walk him to the door, and he lingers for a moment. 

“Can I-?” 

You don’t give him time to finish, tugging him down by his collar and pressing your lips to his in another soft kiss. His hands find refuge at your waist, pulling you closer to him. You run your hands up his sides, and he reacts with a delicious shiver to your utter delight. Gathering your nerves, you tease his lower lip with a nibble, and he chases your mouth with a soft groan when you pull away from him.  

You grin at his flustered state, his cheeks red and glasses fogged up, his sandy fringe ruffled beyond repair. You press one more lingering kiss to his lips before unlocking your door. 

“You said your taxi’s nearly here?” 

A chuckle escapes Edward, an octave lower than what you’re used to, and your knees go weak at the sound. He runs his hand through his hair, adjusting his glasses. 

“You are so cruel.” 

You glance down, immediately realising what he’s referencing, and giggle giddily. 

“You’ll just have to wait for next time, I guess.” 

He sighs, a dazed smile on his face. 

“So, you want me to take you out again?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, standing on your tiptoes so that your mouth is on level with his ear. You run a hand down his chest, your voice a sultry purr. 

“I thought that much was obvious.” 

Edward breathes out heavily through his nose and you smile innocently at him before kissing his cheek. The tension is shattered by the loud sound of his ringtone and you both jump back, the spell broken. Edward smiles apologetically at you when he answers the phone before panic spreads across his face. You can faintly hear a very angry man shouting at him on the other side of the line. 

“Yes, yes! Sorry! I’ll be right there! Sorry!” 

The other caller hangs up and you snort, pushing him gently out the door. 

“Don’t let me keep you any longer from the most awkward ride home of your life. Are you gonna tell the driver you left him waiting so long because you were making out with your colleague?” 

Edward stumbles over his words, the flush on his cheeks somehow deepening.  

“I, ah, will not be doing that. Christ, I’m going to have to tip him even more than I was planning to, aren’t I?” 

You giggle and Edward laughs too, giving you one last quick kiss before practically throwing himself down the stairs. 

You close your door, sighing dreamily like the protagonist of a cheesy rom-com. You shoot Edward a quick text and sink onto your sofa, your heart thrumming. You'd gotten him to open up. You're going to go on another date. You kissed him. As far as first dates go, you’d chalk that up to being pretty successful.  

The rest of your evening is spent texting back and forth with Edward, and when you finally roll into bed your brain is clouded with thoughts of him, his smile, the feeling of his lips on yours. You’re so focused on the image of Edward’s silly flustered smile after you kissed him for the first time that your rational thinking completely skips over one minor detail that you’ll have completely forgotten by the time you wake up. 

How did he know what floor you live on? 

[doll-for-you-11]

Its dark. I don't know where I am or how I got here. Its cold. The only thing I can see is a little red light far away. I think I'm naked but I cant move my arms to tell for sure. Something is holding them behind my back. My legs are burning. How long have I been on my knees? Why do my nipples hurt? Is there something hanging off of them? Theres something dripping down my thighs. Am I wet? Everything feels so strange, the air feels thick, my mind is fuzzy.

I gasp. Something cold runs across my stomach. I can hear breathing. Someone is here, but I cant see. Now its running across my face. It feels like leather. Suddenly it slaps against my ass. I try to yelp but something is shoved down my throat. I gag. It tastes like rubber. I feel straps tightening around my face, holding it in my mouth. Its some kind of gag.

Its quiet again. All I can hear is my own ragged breathing. Each breath pulls on whatever is hanging from my nipples. It starts to hurt as my feeling comes back from whatever I was drugged with. Then white pain shoots through me. Gloved hands grip my tits harder than I thought possible. The metal clamps digging in as they grope me.

The hands move down, tugging on what I assume are the chains hanging from the clamps. I hear a low chuckle before a harsh slap hits my face.

My ears are ringing. I see a flash of light. The flick of a lighter. A can make out the silhouette of a large figure standing over me. He flicks the lighter a few more times. Walking around me. I hear a noise behind me. The lighter flashes again but the light stays this time. I see the shadow of the flame flickering. Moving closer to me from behind before i jump. A sudden burning hits the top of my tits. Just as the burning fades, it hits again, lower this time. Just above my already sore nipples.

He kneels in front of me. Close enough for me to make out the mask he's wearing. Black leather gloves holding a long red candle making me watch as the wax slowly drips before hitting my sensitive skin. Each wimper makes him chuckle as he continues until the candle is almost burnt out.

I can feel the hardened wax covering my chest and stomach where its dripped down. I shudder as he lowers a hand to the floor between my thighs. He brings his hand up again to whats left of the candle light where we can both see the wetness dripping between his fingers.

"So desperate" he says. I can hear the smirk in his voice as he blows out the candle leaving us in pitch black again. I feel him stand. A heavy boot brushes against my thigh. I feel a hand on my shoulder pushing me down until my thighs are spread and I feel leather on my dripping cunt. All he says is "grind slut".

I freeze. I can't possibly do something so degrading. But he grips my hair, a hand circling my throat. His hot breath on my ear. "I said, grind". He speaks calmly but his hand tightens on my neck threateningly.

I slowly slide my hips back and forth. Whimpering as I try not to gag on what I assume to be a dildo still down my throat. My hips jolt as my clit brushes the toe of his boot. Im so wet my cunt slides easily on the polished leather. "Faster". I do as I'm told. His hand loosening on my throat. I press down, grinding my hips. Suprised and disgusted by how good it feels.

I find the place that my clit gets the most pressure and begin circling my hips. For a moment I forget my situation and moan around the dildo before being snapped back to reality by a harsh tug to my hair. "Are you actually enjoying this? What a disgusting whore".

Its the most words I've heard him speak. I whimper again at his words, still moving my hips as he pulls his foot away.

"You've made a mess slut. Clean it up" I don't have time to question how before he presses my face to the floor. His shoe pressed to my lips. I start to lick my own juices off his shoe. When he's satisfied he pulls his foot away.

"Tell me what you want" I dont understand what he's asking and try to ask through my gag. "Don't play dumb you stupid cunt. You dont get that messy and wet unless you want cock. Now beg for it." My eyes have adjusted enough to be able to see his silhouette again. I shake my head only to earn another harsh slap.

My head spinning I try to speak, but the gag makes me sound like a pathetic mess. He laughs as I attempt to do as I'm told. He says he cant understand and slaps me again. This time I fall and he straddles me. Both hands circling my throat as he begins to choke me. My eyes widen in panic as I try to beg but the gag makes it impossible to make proper words.

As tears fall, I feel his hands loosen. They reach behind me. Flipping me onto my stomach, still underneath him as he removes the gag. Pressed face down he leans close to me again. "Enough playing around. Im going to flip you over, you are going to get back on your knees and you are going to beg me for my cock in every hole. Understand?". Shaking with tears pouring down my face I reply "yes sir". Its muffled by the concrete he's pressing me into but he must be satisfied because he stands, aggressively pulling me up by my hair and dragging me accross the room towards the red light. Until I can make out that its a camera.

My stomach sinks as I realize ive been being filmed this entire time. "Do as you were told bitch, or the camera will be the least of your problems".

Crying I stumble over my words as I try to speak. "Please" i mumble quietly. "Please what slut" he growls, getting more impatient. "Please...please fuck me..." i cry. I look up at him and see him step closer so I quickly continue. "Please ruin my slutty holes. Im such a desperate slut. My pussy is dripping with my want to be used by your cock." I cry as I speak. Tears running down my face onto my wax covered tits.

"Keep going, Ill stop you when Ive had enough". I shiver but continue. "Please let me feel your cock in my tight ass. Tear me apart and Ill thank you when you've decided youre done with me. Let me choke on your cock. I want to taste your cum. I want to feel it coating every inch of my body. Pouring out of every hole. I want to lick it off the floor and beg you to stuff more and more of it up my ass"

Im still crying as I continue to humiliate myself, I can hear him laughing under his mask. "Please use me as your personal fuck doll. Fuck me so hard I black out and then keep using me. Im a set of holes for you to enjoy. Im a cum dump for you to abuse. Please let me serve you, I want to be..." im cut off as he pulls me close by the nipple clamps making me scream.

He drags me up to standing by my hair before throwing me to the ground. My hands still bound behind my back. He pulls the camcorder off the stand as he presses a knee into my back forcing me down as he pulls my hips up filming what he's about to do. His hand grips my hair pulling my head up as he leans down growling my ear.

"The only hole you have thats worth fucking is this tight virgin asshole. You dont deserve the pleasure of my cock in your whore cunt, and I wouldn't dare put my cock in the same mouth that cleans my shoes"

With that he rams his cock balls deep into my ass. I try to scream but the pain shocks me to silence. He presses my face into the ground as he rails into my ass as rough and fast as he can. My tits and face scrape against the ground, but he doesn't care how much pain Im in. All that matters is him filling my ass with his hot cum.

He fucks into me at an animalistic pace until he finally presses in as deep as he can grunting as I feel hot ropes of cum shoot deep inside me. My body tenses as he holds himself inside me, panting as he leans down a final time. "Little bitches like you only deserve to be used if it hurts, and you're such a little whore that you probably liked it anyway. Look at the camera and say thank you."

My eyes are clouded with exhaustion as I look up into the camera he's holding in my face. I groan at the feeling of his cock still in my ass and I know he's right. I did enjoy it. I speak slowly. "Thank you for using me" he wrenches my hair up again. "You call me Sir, and you thank them for watching. Do it properly cunt".

I whimper again. "Thank you for using me Sir. And thank you all for watching me be broken in like a proper fuck toy". He lets go as my head falls back to the ground and films a close up as he pulls out of my ass, his cum leaking out after it. He grabs the dildo gag from earlier and shoves it up my ass. "There, make sure you hold that up your ass and feel how disgusting you are".

I hear him set up the camcorder on the stand again before walking away. I'm left in this dark room being recorded. Covered in wax, tears and spit. My hands bound behind my back and dildo up my ass. And I shudder at the knowledge that he'll be back. But more so at the fact that no matter how much I want it. I'll never be allowed to feel his cock in my slutty little rape hole cunt.

[threepandas]

Sun Burnt: Part 2

Sixteen grand, only half my go bags, and about three blocks of Mafia Land on fire.

That was my fucking legacy now. I was the crazy fuck that DICK PUNCHED the Dread God of hitmen everywhere. The nightmare that lesser men fear. The blood soaked luxury few can afford! Oh god. I just punch the greatest hitman on THE PLANET in the DICK.

IN PUBLIC.

CURSE YOU LIGHTNING BRAIN!

I can't believe I fucking FORGOT that panic and impossibly fast reaction times were a BAD IDEA. God DAMN it! No wonder everyone thinks Lightnings are morons! That was the DUMBEST SHIT I'VE EVER DONE IN MY LIFE! Oh god. Oh god! I'm gonna die so slow. He's gonna drag it out! What do I DO!?

He didn't even collapse! Just hissed in through his teeth and TANKED it!

Thank god for Tazer training.

But also like!? Ha ha!!! OH GOD IM SO DEAD. I just pissed off EVERYBODY, didn't I? I can never come back! I had to have hit like... fifteen DIFFERENT SETS back there! And Colonello will be out for my BLOOD. Fuck, I wanna LIVE!

Boats. I gotta steal one of the boats!

And thank god? I DO. The island is in chaos, thanks to the fires. I dump the boats number of trackers overboard. Sure, I have to take a knife to a few fancy ass walls. But it's WORTH it.

I got a fancy ass little yacht! Perfect. It's fast, it's liveable, I can DISAPPEAR out to sea. He'll NEVER fi-!

Click.

Cool metal smoothly, cruely, presses againt the back of my head to crush my hope, just as it begins to form. The cologne is unmistakable. I can not tell you, how in God's name I missed it. The barrel of a gun pressed close, like a lover's hand, in unspoken threat.

"Bella~" purrs an amused voice from behind me. It sound like a threat. "Quite the trouble maker, aren't you? Such... CHAOS~♡ But, really? Did you HONESTLY think you could run? We're not done yet."

.....m...maybe I could swim.

I break out into a cold sweat, too aware yet completely frozen. The stairs to the deck are too far away. Fuck. I... I could MAYBE make it? Or.. or punch out a wall? Right into the water? I try to keep my breathing even. It doesn't work. I know, because Death made a man? Who stands behind me? Hums in amusement. His gun pressing tighter against my skin.

"I wouldn't, bella fulminea. I am nothing if not a gentleman, but if you keep fighting me? Well... it is a long boat ride. I'll have to find SOME way to immobilize you long enough for us to have a little chat. And an excuse to have my Flames inside you? You'd be surprised the damage one can do without lasting effects, when they know HOW too."

"And make no mistake. I DO know how to hurt you."

"So let's behave ourselves, hmm? Have a seat."

I... I had a seat. Very comfy. Didn't feel like crying in the SLIGHTEST ha ha, WHAAAT? Don't be silly! This is FINE! We're all friends here! R..Right?

The slow grin I got was NOT reassuring.

He stood there, above me, gun casually pointed at my head, as he examined me. Taking his time. As though decadently savoring the moment. Enjoying my tensed muscles. The way my Flames crackled and arced across my skin. My eyes dilated in fear. The resonance that filled the cabin.

His eyes weren't dark anymore. And that... God, that was the worst part. They had lit up. I'd HEARD about the phenomenon, but never thought I ever actually SEE it. 'Cause who could actually be that batshit powerful? What realistic person would ever be so fucking STRONG?

It was like looking into molten gold. Liquid Sun Flames. I could almost SEE the flicker and burn. I could DEFINITELY feel the Flames filling the room. It was like being crammed in a box with a tiger that barely fit to begin with. Shoved RIGHT up against its face. All I could do was hope it was friendly. Preferably ignored me.

But he wasn't.

No, he wanted to TALK.

Had finally, thankfully, put the gun away. Stepped closer to grab my face and tilt it up. Angle it this way and that. Memorizing my features. Shit. My thoughts must have been obvious on my face, because his smirk widened. His grip got tighter.

"Do you know, little lightning, how long I've waited? How many DECADES I've made do? I don't care if you're not a Sky. You could be another sun as far as I'm concerned. It is the fact that your Flames SING to mine. Crave a place with mine. THAT is why you will never escape me."

I didn't even know if I WANTED a Set. Yeah, it sounded cool. The companionship, the understanding and stuff. Like... like soulmates. Literal platonic but could be not if you wanted Soulmates. Yours forever. Best friends and balm to all wounds. But? But! If THIS was what was in store for me?!

Ha ha, NOPE!

I may not have be interested in being some meat shield for some entitled, cloying, grabby-flamed Sky BRAT, but that didn't mean I wanted a living DREAD GOD! R... RIGHT?! I just wanted, you know, substance! Mutual understanding and a mature outlook on life. Competence. Maybe some one... who thinks... I'm...funny...

Ooooooh no.

Oh no no NO!

"REBORN! Did you KIDNAP a random thief?!"

Thuds up on the deck. A roaring voice sounding vaguely hysterical. A god like Cloud kicking the door to the lower levels clear off it's hinges. Vongola. Oh thank MERCIFUL FUCK. I risk a glance across the table. His face has frozen in it's pleasantly smiling mask. Pissed at being interrupted. Again.

His eyes say "don't you do it. Don't even DARE.

My eyes shoot from him to the Cloud slowly walking down the steps. Followed by the rest of the Tenth generation of the Vongola Familgia. The clear exit they've left open behind them. Back to him. His gaze now promising to break both my legs.

.....he'll have to fucking catch me first.

I BOLT.

[firefly--bright]

carry me out.

jean kirstein x reader , modern a.u.

summary ; you've let your predetermined, statistical thoughts on being loved carry you out for a long time. maybe you realise that jean should be an exception.

warnings ; HUGE trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, especially in the beginning. overall very angsty, but slight comfort at the end. no pre-existing relationship, only the indications of one. underage (?) alcohol consumption (please be safe n responsible with alcohol!)

a/n ; finally wrote a fic after like a month lmao im so sorry. a) for being gone so long and not updating my other fics but also b) returning with another heavy one. no promises if this is me coming out of my haitus, though, i still have end-sem submissions to worry about. everything has been hell but hey atleast im alive! anyways, as always, enjoy! also if you ever need anyone to talk to, im always here. please know that. youre not alone!

taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kiernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes (please feel free to skip this story, even if you are tagged, if it's too heavy for you!!)

huge thank you to @raazberry my absolute favouritest person for beta reading this :3

masterlist is in pinned post ✿ enter my taglist! ✿

You weren’t going to live past the next three years.

You knew this – it was written in your teary-eyed thirteen year old self’s note to a much older you, “if youre still the same after everything and you still feel like this all the time, then why keep trying? If youre not happy in somewhere outside of your head, then why keep living? Do you really want to live past 24?”

The letter may have been written against your better judgement, and you could still feel the cold of your marbled bathroom tiles and the too-bright florescent light above your head as you tried to stop your hand from shaking, but you lived by it. In all reality, your hopes were dwindling, and this misshapen version of you that sat infront of the mirror looked more like a smudged charcoal drawing instead of your face. You didn’t know how or why it was the way it was, but you had to live with this, live with the burnt and shaky outline of yourself thanks to the years you spent with your light still ablaze.

you sigh. Its all you know how to do.

The door knocks and you shift from your mirror to the source. Your heart skips a beat and everything lulls into a low hum.

“hey,” he says, with your name on his tongue as if he’s kept it there for years. “we were thinking about going out now that midterms are over. You wanna join?” he asks, his thumb pointing to the invisible invitation outside of your room.

You blink, humming the semblance of what you’d call love in your mind. “maybe. What’s  in it for me?” you ask. A smile graces your face and it doesn’t feel that foreign.

He pretends to think, humming out the same tune that played in your head every waking moment, his voice a low and calm tide. “free food?”

You breathe out a laugh. This bit doesn’t feel like a play, it doesn’t feel like a script with big block letters and directions and your name written in all caps. It feels normal. It feels foreign.

“don’t tell sasha, though.” He says, pointing a finger at you with a loose fist.

“I make no promises.” You really don’t.

“well, then, you should."

Maybe you would.

 Connie’s laughter would usually be described as an annoying 11 year old’s, but today, it offered you comfort like ice against a bruise, and marco would usually be described as a worried father, but his warmth was appreciated when he held the door open for all of you to walk in. sasha was already inside, chatting with her boyfriend who couldn’t be more happy to look at her with his chin resting on his palm and a soft smile on his face. Sasha’s animated voice could usually be described as the babbling of a child, but today it offered to be the noise that you craved. She was dressed well, with a bow tied gently into her hair and you wondered how you got this lucky to be half-present in the light of these fools.

Jean was always next to you, always to your left, always silently giving you his secretly undivided attention. Even as connie got another round of drinks for the table, even when sasha ate all the fries that were supposed to be shared, even when marco, ever the extrovert, went to mingle with friends from his other classes, even as niccolo held sasha’s hair back when she entered an unsaid drinking competition with Mikasa and her unshaken record, he was there. To your left, looking at his right with a warmth and gentleness that would’ve shaken you had you noticed it.

There was chatter. There was always noise, something to occupy your mind, as you played with the condensation on your glass, silently waiting for connie to shout out another drink that he presumed youd enjoy. To his credit, you did enjoy them, but maybe downing them in one go wasn’t the best idea if you truly wanted to savour them, and if the attention you were getting from your left wasn’t so alert, you’d have left this bar a long time ago.

And this didn’t mean any harm to your friends. Of course not, they couldn’t help but be the sun. they couldn’t help being this all consuming light that couldn’t stop itself from touching and spilling onto any surface it could find. Truly, you loved them for it like how you loved the sun – from a distance, looking at it through squinted eyes because you were afraid of it’s beauty. No, it wouldn’t be their fault that you were too much of a coward to feel what they offered to everyone without the hesitation you had.

“this is the part where you tell me what’s on your mind.” Jean says from beside you, memorizing a script you weren't aware of. theres a chord in your mind that rings out as he does, beginning an unfinished song that would continue on for as long as you lived.

You hum. It gets lost with the increasing sound of the song in your head and around you. shaking your head, you say something that’s unconvincing to your already deaf ears. “nothing,”

His palms slide over your wrist, covering up the embarrassment your pulse brings to yourself with a softness that doesn’t fail to shake you this time, noticing the way he looks around the place youre in – a bar? Youre not sure. You haven’t been sure where you ever were – and stops as he finds one. He gives you a once-over and leads you to the haven he’s scanned around for. he refuses to remove his hand from your wrist and some small or large or whatever-is-remaining part of you wants him to keep it there until your body evolves to accommodate his skin on yours.

You wonder how he feels. For the first time in a while, you wonder what it feels like to live outside of your head, outside of your own whatever-is-remaining body, outside of the stripped bare bones with pieces of meat stuck on it after charred teeth having gorged upon it night and day for twenty years. Does he see you that way? Could he stand to see the state you had yourself in, an unholy and unceremonious shrine to yourself, with nothing but the most minutest proof of your existence instead of everything you’d always wanted to become? Or does he see you as something that remains standing despite it? Would he see you as just that- the proof of the proof?

“there we go. No more noise.” He says decidedly and you’d agree a thousand times over. The chord he plays still reverbs through the empty nest of your chest and you agree – its as present as the noise of silence.

You hum again. You have no words to say. He doesn’t let go of your wrist and you pretend not to notice, just as he does. His fingers are calloused and weathered under unsaid conditions but you hope its because of love. It’s a large word to say, to think and to feel but you’ve long since forgone the formalities of having to speak. In your head, all words mean the same and nothing at the same time.

“saw a cat today.” He says. In your head, you agree.

This means something. Each word he says has its own representation, its own grip and handle on you instead of it all being everything.

You lean against something solid. Only then do you realise youre at a rooftop – climbing the stairs wasn’t registered when you spent your time staring at your beloved’s back, observing how his shirt moved over his skin with every consequential step, every meaningful breath. You became even more blind to the bodies of people that were a thousand times more present than you.

Only then do you realise the brightness of the city lights under you. the building you were on didn’t look all that tall, but it seemed taller than the rest. There were people there, being alive, breathing their own air and their own sound as yours made none. You let jean’s breathing be enough for the two of you until you’d find the dormant strength in yourself to find your own.

“brown and ginger fur. It was this tiny-“ he says. You throw him a glance because youre afraid looking at him for more than that would leave you with no choice but to keep burning, and his hands cup an invisible ball-like shape. You smile, looking back at the distant windows that carry their hopes into the night sky. “If I see it again, im gonna name it cookie.” He says.

Your smile grows gentler under the curtain of your fingers that are curled up against your lips, your chin on your palm. You wonder then, again, how he sees you. do you seem uninterested? You don’t mean to be, and he should know, but you don’t have the courage or the guts to let him know otherwise. Your words will get jumbled by the time you decide to regurgitate it, they’ll spill out of you in a blurring mess. You’ll end up having to say your name thrice to believe youre still here, if at all.

He's silent. His shoulder brushes against yours and you feel this like a script of a play – written in big block letters with his name signed over it, written in the brackets because its something that needs notice.

HES BRUSHING YOUR SHOULDERS LIKE HE ALWAYS IS, and youre an idiot because you think it makes you yourself. In a bracket, its specified with your name on top in big block letters – HE SEES YOU.

When you turn your head to that god-awful, all consuming left side again, he does. He sees you and you decide that now is a good time to return back to the whatever-is-remaining body again. Your bones shake with the song that keeps playing when he’s around and maybe the hopefulness of the open window lights of the city before and after you carries your hopefulness with it.

Maybe the light that his eyes reflect can carry out your silent grief with him. Maybe the burden you hold over yourself for so long – the one that you’ve gnawed and scratched and kneeled and digested over – maybe this all consuming shake in your body could use some pre-written and pre-determined accompaniment.

He doesn’t say anything. Whatever his script is, he doesn’t follow it. Maybe its his silence that speaks more about you than you could fathom for yourself. He carries out your grief and takes it for what it is – the proof of all of your love. He carries it out in his eyes, in his hand that is calloused because of words he hesitates to speak and carries in his fist, hidden behind his back. Only now, hes thankful for this silence. You understand it better than anyone, he thinks.

The big block letters in all caps overweigh the desperate letter you wrote to yourself when you were thirteen. He shift beside you, HIS ARM IS AROUND YOUR SHOULDERS AND HE’S HUGGING YOU NOW and youre  a little hopeful now. Youre a little hopeful that your longing has a partner. That your teeth can still be capable of letting go. That your tongue is capable of saying “thank you,” muttered against the warmth of his chest and his too-weak left side that carries his heart flutters against itself and he’s glad for how weak his left side is. He’s glad he feels your words ten times over because of it.

Whatever this script is, whatever dialogues are written and edited and predetermined are either being fulfilled or being gone against. You don’t care. You have the time to read it later. You have the choice to never read it ever again.

He holds you. your words don’t muffle because he hears you.

He hears you, and this is not a compulsion. Its not written in the script, no, loving you has always meant breaking the rules, loving you has always meant going against the forces of the nature that shaped you. jean didn’t seem to care much for rules, anyway.

[malewife-overlord]

Six Cycles Later -- Part III Invert

um. so its been a while. hi sorry for the long gap between updates ive been. so burnt out. recently just been trying to take time for myself and not create stuff because ive just been so tired. working full time at a job i dont really love but need to get by, and like...just trying to keep afloat...has been so stressful man. but anyways. i did manage to get this next chapter out and had fun with it :> i do intend to continue this story im just kinda...slow. sorry to my five readers

that out of the way!!!! here's the next chapter >:3c who's ready for whats hiding in the demon swamp!!!! yay!

word count: 5046 there IS a trigger warning for this chapter -- self harm. also, a bit of bigotry. seekers arent regarded super well by everyone else, it would appear.

also! this chapter features a cameo from @callsign-relic's Starburst :) check her out if youre interested in him! he's super cute <3 thank you for letting me rough your boy up Relic!

chapter below cut! previous chapter can be found here and beginning can be found here

“LET ME OUT!”

At the sound of the voice her spark leaped in its chamber. Invert grinned despite her prior grievances, the swamp and all of its horrors left behind. Though no one could see it, she raised an arm and waved. 

“I’m here! I hear you! I’m coming! Hold on!”

Water splashed around her pedes as she practically sprinted for the ship, concerns of an Autobot ambush cast aside as its dark entrance yawned. The buzzing grew in volume as she closed the distance, and though she was loath to fully disable her audials, she found she had no choice. Her helm was threatening to split from noise alone.

Whoever was in this ship had to be strong, she could feel it. She ran over her options again: Bombshell, Shrapnel, Kickback. Which had she decided was the most useful? Oh, whoever, she didn’t really care! Well, maybe she did a little, but truly, she’d be grateful just to have another ‘con around. Someone who was on her side. Someone who she could plan with and fight by. Even if they were, according to the data pack, a bit hard to get along with.

Oh well. She would top the pecking order in no time. They didn’t know what she was capable of, and they’d learn fast to respect her. 

The interior of the ship was larger than it seemed from the outside, as most Decepticon ships tended to be. The floor before her was completely underwater, its silver squares smothered by a thick layer of dark organic grime. The walls were colored purple, though their paint had long stripped. Water stains alongside long white streaks of organic substance decorated her surroundings. On the far right, where the front of the ship rested comfortably, the bridge sat in ruin. 

If she was a bit more concerned about escaping the planet, perhaps she would have been distressed by that fact. But Invert couldn’t have cared less at the moment, for her optics were focused on the barely glowing sign hanging above a broken door across from her. The Insecticon ship was small, with only a bridge, a large main area, and a side compartment for the med bay. Under most circumstances, that compartment was sealed, but the presence of the entrance told her all she needed to know about where to find her future friend. 

She left the bridge and the main area behind, taking a step down into the cramped quarters of the med bay. And there, bundled against the wall like a clutch of eggs, sat five stasis pods. 

Three were open. One was dark. And the last one—

It looked like it had been almost destroyed.

The metal was warped and bulged outwards. The glass was cracked and shards of it sparkled beneath the stagnant water. Deep gouges tore up the walls beside the pod. She could see scuff marks on the floor and what looked like burns on the ceiling. The display on the pod was glitching and barely functional, showcasing error codes and a single life signal. 

She furrowed her optical ridges, wondering just what had happened here to incur such damage. 

Well, it was of no major significance to her. Whatever had happened here had passed, and all it had left behind was an Insecticon soldier ready to burst forth and support his cause. Her audials indicated that the source of the buzzing, and logically, the screaming, was the pod. In fact…as she stepped closer, they displayed warnings: the sound being produced would cause damage if listened to at such range, even with muted audials, for elongated periods of time. 

He was strong. Sound based powers? She was reminded of Soundwave and his cassettes. Would this Insecticon also have something similar, then? But how would he–

Nope, not even thinking of it. That was gross organic stuff. She needed to focus on anything but the fact he was mimicking a filthy organic. Yes, all she needed to focus on was releasing him from the pod. 

Approaching it, she took additional note of the severe damage to the door–its seal was incomplete, which possibly indicated stasis failure. The dents on its middle pushed out in the molded shapes of angry fists. On the sides she could see the groove of hands where it had been gripped with enough force to bend in both ways. 

Claw marks on the wall, punches on the door, warping on the edges. Invert wasn’t stupid. Whoever—or whatever—had been forced into this pod had only done so after fighting for his life. 

Why?

She couldn’t see very well inside—though the shape of the Insecticon’s head was discernible, a layer of moisture had formed inside, obscuring his details from her sight. Was he battle damaged? Had he been frozen inside screaming?

Was that why the pod was buzzing so loudly?

She had no answers yet, but she could certainly assume that he was probably rusting in there, with all that water. She didn’t know his story in the slightest, or why he hadn’t been with the other Insecticons, but considering her circumstances, she didn’t have many options besides opening his pod. If she trusted her preservation instincts, which told her this was a terrible idea, she left behind her only potential ally left on this planet. Whatever circumstances had seen him trapped in his stasis pod were likely behind him. She’d just have to trust that he wasn’t as violent as the area around him seemed to indicate. 

Besides. Insecticons were unsavory on their best days, completely uncooperative on their worst. She was probably seeing the results of a spat between the four, soon to be three. 

Three. They’d really trapped one of their brethren in their ship and abandoned him for years. 

Scowling, Invert tapped the broken screen, trying to see if she could convince it to initiate release. 

It gave no such indication. She tapped again, trying to pull up any kind of menu. Besides more error messages, the screen gave no further function. 

“Come on!” She said aloud, giving the pod a kick. 

Whatever was inside reacted. She saw the head turn towards her. The sensation of optics locking onto her form creeped up her back.  

Invert’s spark tightened from both fear and excitement. Oh. He was awake. That meant…oh. That was why he’d been able to make the noise. He had been frozen screaming. The faulty seal had likely forced his body into stasis, but not his mind. 

LET ME O U T 

Her audials indicated they’d picked up on words. She ex-vented through her dentae. 

“Uh, hi!” She said, waving a hand. “Um, I’m Invert. I got your distress call! I’m here to get you out.”

The Insecticon did not move. 

“I’ll, uh, get on that, then. Do you have any idea how to open this pod? Any recommendations or tips? I’ve never been in this ship, so…”

Nothing. 

“Right, on my own again, gotcha.” She turned away and rolled her optics. 

Okay, if the pod didn’t want to behave because it was broken, she could force it. Grabbing the bent edge of the door, she planted a pede against the wall and pulled with all her might. Her joints creaked in protest, but the door didn’t budge in the slightest. 

Frowning, she searched around for a tool, coming back with a metal pipe found submerged at the back of the ship. Jamming it between the door and the pod’s edges, she braced herself against the wall and tried to forcibly pry the door open–only for the pipe to snap and fly across the room. 

Invert cursed and retrieved the blaster she’d brought with herself, pointing it at the seal. A purple glow illuminated the dark ship as she fired several blasts in, succeeding in adding more sear marks, but not breaking or melting the metal in the slightest. 

The door wasn’t budging. She scowled. Looking at the glass, she could see the Insecticon watching her, probably thinking about how pathetically this mass-produced, one-trick Seeker was failing to perform a single task.

Well, she’d damn well show him. Brute force wasn’t her style anyways. She had one trick that was sure to work, and prove that she was worth keeping around–and respecting. 

Oh, he’d damn well respect her, if he was already thinking so negatively about her. 

For Invert had a special ability, one that had kept her around despite how often she’d heard other ‘cons whispering about having her deactivated. It might be an ability that was difficult to use, incredibly dangerous on her best days, and ran the chance of killing her every time she used it, but it was hers. It set her apart from her Seeker brethren. It made her special. 

It made her worth keeping around. 

She stepped back from the pod and smirked. So far she’d only used her ability on other Cybertronians, but she saw no reason it wouldn’t work on their technology as well. It wasn’t like she’d been given time or items to test it on, when resources had already been so slim on Earth. This could serve as a beta test for it, probably. Though, she had to wonder…would it damage the Insecticon inside?

…Once again, she didn’t know. Didn’t really matter, probably–it would be the start of their pecking order. Her on the top, him keeping a distance at all times. 

“Hey, Insecticon?” She said, “I’m going to try and get you out. There might be some sparks, so try not to panic!” 

The Insecticon in the pod did not respond to her words or her movements. His head remained turned towards her. She could feel optics locking onto her, sizing up. Trying equally to determine if she was one to be kicked around.

The buzzing had stopped, her audials indicated. In its absence, the silence hung like the organic slime outside.

“Well, alright then.”

To use her ability, she’d have to mess with her T-Cog. It was always easier said than done. Her T-Cog was located in her side, as it was with all Seekers. All she had to do was plunge her servos through her plating and manually crank it. The plating on her side was intentionally thinner for this purpose, meaning any old blaster could deactivate her with a proper shot. And whether it was blaster fire or servos, thin plating did not change the fact that, no matter how her ability was activated, it would hurt.

Easier said than done. Always easier said than done. But she couldn’t show weakness now. They didn’t even know one another’s name, but the pecking had already begun, and she was not about to be on the bottom. 

Invert hovered her servos over her side, ex-venting again. She hadn’t used her ability since before the attack on Autobot City. Only once had she been deployed, during a particularly nasty clash with the Autobots. ‘All soldiers on the field’ had been the order. She’d eagerly flown (tumbled) out with her fellow Seekers, and landed (crashed) straight in the thick of it. With guns pointed at her from all angles and her Seeker brethren flying overhead, ignoring her plight as she floundered amongst a group of Autobots, it wasn’t like she’d had much of a choice. 

They’d paid her more attention after everyone in a hundred foot radius hit the ground–the extent of it had been Starscream demanding why she hadn’t remained in formation and helped with the Aerialbots. She hadn’t been stable enough to properly respond, and when she tried to her voice shrieked with static. 

She didn’t remember who won that day. All she remembered was being dragged back, repaired, and left to work only in the base, since. 

Well. She wasn’t in the base anymore, and their situation demanded nothing less of her than all she had. Which meant her ability as well. 

Frag the pain. Pain made stronger soldiers. She’d be one worth respecting and keeping around no matter what. She’d grit through it like she’d grit through everything else, including flying to this damn place, drinking organics–her tank still felt like it was about to purge–and tolerating humans. Invert ex-vented one more time and held it. 

Then she punched her fist through her side and released it all in a shriek of agony. No, a war cry. It was a damn war cry and she did not feel like she was about to collapse and sob. 

Her servos found her T-Cog in a second. They immediately turned it in the wrong direction, straining her wiring and sending a jolt of pain through her. Her HUD glitched, displaying several warnings about internal damage. Then her audials shut down completely, followed by her optics, as her body tried and failed to change its shape. 

For a second she was left in the void that was never-ending, frame wracking agony. Was she still screaming? She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t feel her throat. She couldn’t feel her voice. 

Her optics onlined. No, she was still in the ship, and her faceplate was contorted from crying out, and her surroundings–

Oh, she recognized glitching when she saw it. 

The field that had formed around her, invisible and just as deadly as radiation, had already taken effect on everything powered within it. She was frozen with pain, but her frame was still standing. The same could not be said of the pod–or its occupant.

The screen had completely scrambled, error messages becoming illegible binary code. The life signal had become erratic, beating too much, beating too little, not beating at all, activating emergency stasis, disabling it. The glow fizzled, flashed, and went out as the wires within the pod gave out, unable to support itself anymore. The head she could just barely see jerked back, snapped to the side. 

The shrieking was back. Was it her own, or his? 

The pain was becoming too much. She couldn’t hold it for much longer. Her entire vision was red, the sight of the ship lost. Energy seemed to crackle around her servos, numbing her entire arm. Was she still gripping her T Cog? If she moved her arm, she certainly wouldn’t be. The numbness was spreading, blooming out from the source of her T-Cog and spreading up her arm like the stillness of death. But she held on. 

And it paid off. 

The screen on the pod fizzled out. Invert tore her arm free just as the numbness hit her shoulder, staggering against the wall and leaning on it for support. Her frame felt cold despite the 98F heat reading her temperature display indicated. How long had she been holding her ability up? She tried to check her internal timer, focusing on maintaining her venting and balance. 

Twelve seconds. She felt ready to purge. 

The groan of metal drew her attention back to the pod. In the low light, she could make out three massive, jointed claws closing around the bent edge, their deadly sharp tips already forming punctures in the metal. Her audials notified her of growling. 

Then the pod door burst like it was not a mech it contained but a bomb. In a stroke of luck, as the door hurled past her and embedded clean into the opposing wall, it missed Invert by a few inches, saving her from an untimely end at the awakening of her new ally. 

Or perhaps saving wasn’t the right word for it. For as the bot inside rose up, towering over her by almost half her height, a sinking feeling in the pit of her tank told her that perhaps the door knocking her helm off might have been mercy compared to whatever his intentions might be. 

He was absolutely massive. She’d seen the combiners, the great Omega Supreme, even Astrotrain in his spaceship mode, and she still wasn’t quite prepared for how large he was. His frame took up the entirety of the room as he wrenched himself free from the pod, tearing pieces of it free as he did so. 

The Insecticon’s visor lit up, illuminating his face with an ominous red light. What looked like three needle-like proboscises were folded atop his mask, which reminded her just enough of Soundwave’s to tell her that maybe she should have tried to size up her ally before attempting to establish pecking order. Bulky antennae uncurled and shifted. His large claws opened and shut as he cracked his neck, optics locking onto her vulnerable form as he took a step forward. 

She didn’t have the energy to react as his claws shot to her throat, raising her off the ground like she weighed nothing. The numbness in her body eased whatever pain she might have felt from it, but her HUD swarmed with danger notifications, and not just from the structural damage her frame had sustained. With a single click of his claws, the Insecticon could decapitate her. 

Instead he twisted and hurled her with enough force to punch through the ship, splattering her against the opposite wall in the main area. Her HUD glitched, momentarily offlined, and returned with a staunch warning: emergency stasis would soon set in. Invert fought against it, standing on shaky legs as the numbness promptly consumed one, causing her to stagger. 

And yet despite the fact that half of her body was cold and she could see graying on her right servos, she held on.

She would not die here. Her left arm was still functional. As the Insecticon tore apart the threshold of what to him was a tiny door, she retrieved her blaster and pointed it straight for his helm. Metal shrieked as the Insecticon ripped his way free of the stasis room, optics locking onto her. 

He was glaring at her. She returned the look, feeling Energon leaking from her optics. 

“Take…another…step…” she garbled out, spitting pink into the water, “and I…shoot…your head…off.” 

He cocked his helm back, looking down at her over the bridge of his mask. His chassis rose and fell a few times with what seemed like laughter. And then he held his claws out, spreading them in a provocative gesture. Do it. He was daring her. 

She gripped the blaster tighter, willing with all her might to move her numb right arm. Electricity was crackling through her systems, replacing that numbness with uncomfortable tingling. 

“Don’t you mock me,” she crackled. 

He held his gaze on her, and it took her a moment to realize that her audials were alerting her to noise. With a mask covering his face and a thousand danger notifications to keep note of, she hadn’t even thought about turning them back on. Digging the command prompt out of the sea of pop-ups, she promptly reactivated them at 50% capacity. Even with her best efforts, the audio came in slightly distorted.

“...--en, you weak little plane.” His voice was low and accented. “See where that gets you.” 

“What?”

“Do it, then,” he snarled. “How many times do I have to say it before you get it through your tiny little processor?”

“Oh yeah?” She challenged, trying to straighten up as much as she could while only having one functional leg. “What are you going to do, rip my spark out?” 

“Are you giving me ideas?” 

“You think you’ll have the brain left to process them?” “You think you’ve got the firepower to drop me in one shot?” He leaned forward, a smirk all but plastered on his masked face. “Because I think I recognize a standard issue Seeker class blaster when I see one.”

Frag. She kept the blaster pointed at his helm, but the fact of the matter was she held no power in this situation. Injured, numb, and significantly smaller than her foe, she was touting a blaster that only had potential to kill in extremely close quarters, and only against light armor. 

Her foe easily towered over her and was heavy armor class just from a glance. Even a blast to the face would likely be just a singe to him. Unless she could aim exactly into his optic or intake, she had no chance of sending a fatal bolt to his spark or processor. 

She had no power here, and he knew it. All he was doing was teasing her. 

“Now…” His voice picked up in its distinct growl. “Where are they, Seeker?” 

One heavy pede stepped forward. She vented sharply. 

“Who are ‘they’? The other Decepticons? Wait, the other Inse–”

He jammed his claws into the wall beside her, shredding it like paper. A trickle of cold ran down her back as she was pinned between his massive chassis and the panels.

“The others. Shrapnel. Kickback. Bombshell.” 

This close, she could make out the intensity of his optics behind his visor. He looked like he could be the face of a war poster. One of his proboscises unfurled, scraping against her faceplate and leaving a scar. 

Yep, she was going to purge. 

“They-they’re–!” 

And then she did, right onto his chassis. Pink energon combined with the sludge of the indigestible organics she had consumed. She coughed several times, optics momentarily offlining with each hack. 

Sharp claws moved right to her throat, accompanied by a low buzz. Oh, there it was. Maybe he only made it when he was pissed. 

“They’re…dead,” she finally said, glowering at him. “Everyone is.” 

Did she necessarily believe it? Maybe. Did she want to admit it, speak it aloud? Absolutely not.

And for forcing her to say it, she hated him, she decided. 

He didn’t relent for a moment as they held each other's gaze. The amount of vitriol contained within his own could strip plating. She tried to load the same hatred into her own.

Metal shrieked as the Insecticon tore his claws free of the wall, venting in disgust as he turned away from her. She pulled herself off the wall, stumbling as her right leg gave out again. 

“Your processor is half-melted,” he said dismissively, heading for the open side of the ship. “Who even are you? The Decepticon ranks don’t need broken weaklings who lie to save their plating.” 

A fire lit in her tank at the words, and she snapped. “Weakling!? I flew all the way here from the last Decepticon stronghold on this planet just to answer your SOS signal! I risked my aft to get you out of your stasis pod! We’re currently so deep in Autobot turf that at any moment, we could be ambushed, and that’d be the end of the cause!” Sparks crackled from her side as she yelled. “And you’re calling me weak!?”

He didn’t even look at her. “Yes, I am, little Seeker. Crossing the planet to engage in a suicide mission doesn’t make you brave or strong. It makes you incredibly stupid. But I suppose you Seekers have never been renowned for your intelligence.”

She didn’t really think about her next action, which saw her raise her blaster and shoot a bolt straight into his side. A puff of smoke rose as the energy singed his segmented plating. The Insecticon glared down at the tiny insult, then at her. 

“See? There’s your proof, dead metallico.” 

And he lunged. 

Well, if she was dying, she was taking him with her. Invert abandoned her blaster and jammed her servos into her side, the burning, agonizing pain only fueling her rage. The action made him pause right before his claws would collide with her helm, deadly sharp spikes halting mere inches from it. 

She smirked. “What’s wrong, Insecticon? Scared of a weakling Seeker?”

He didn’t get the chance to answer. They both heard the sound of an engine, followed by the crack of a jet shooting by overhead. The Insecticon’s head immediately turned to the entrance of the ship. 

Autobots. They didn’t need to say it aloud to both understand. Every Decepticon knew the sound of a Seeker’s engines and the roar they emitted when they flew low over the ground. This sounded nothing like that. 

He was off her in a second. Instinctively she fell in place behind him, keeping her servos over her T-Cog. Glancing out together, they both saw nothing in the sky–yet. 

“Take to the skies,” the Insecticon ordered. “I’ll handle whatever ground troops have arrived.” 

She grimaced, sucking an ex-vent in through her dentae. “Uh. So. About that.”

The roar sounded again, and this time they both saw the blur of what looked like a tiny rocket. The Insecticon’s antennae perked right up. Invert raised an optical ridge. 

“It’s small. A scout,” she whispered. “They don’t know we’re here yet, probably. If we can stay hidden, he might leave.”

“Hidden?” The Insecticon scoffed. “It’s one scout. I have done enough hiding in that damnable pod. I don’t care what’s wrong with you, Seeker. Get in the sky and kill him.”

“I–”

Before she could say another word the Insecticon grabbed her and charged out, roaring as he threw her into the air. She yelled, tumbling through the sky as her body instinctively tried to take its alt mode, failed, and crashed into the trees. 

“Are you KIDDING me!?” She heard echo from below before hitting her helm on a tree and momentarily losing consciousness. 

“Hey, Decepticon!” Another voice. This one sounded like it belonged to a ‘bot who was widely regarded as annoying. So, basically, any Autobot under the sun. “You’re supposed to aim at your enemy, not the sky! And since when do Seekers count as bullets?”

“GET DOWN HERE!”

“Not on ya’ life, ugly!” 

Invert groaned, peeling herself free as the sound of blaster fire rang out from nearby. Just one Autobot scout, and they were both already threatened with the possibility of termination. She needed to do something about this all. They needed to regroup back at Victory, and they needed this Autobot scout silenced. 

For one meant many–he’d probably contacted his allies the moment he saw them. 

With a bit of effort she extricated herself from the tree, splashing down onto the cage below it. The water began to turn pink as she pulled herself up. Her blaster was gone, which might have inspired her to use her rifle, except…

How could she even hope to transform it with one functional arm? Let alone try aiming it with so much crowding her HUD?

The sound of nearby blaster fire grew louder. Splashing was followed by hissing. Metal creaked and shrieked, and then she saw a frisbee of shrapnel fly through the air, missing the tiny rocket as he wheeled up and did a twirl, promptly transforming in the air just to gloat.

He really was tiny. His faceplate was gray, his plating a light orange. Blasters were mounted on his arms, which he crossed as he smirked down at the Insecticon. 

“Ya aim needs work, buggy!” And turning back, he promptly activated his boosters and shot just overhead, circling around to unleash another barrage. 

He was fast. No way the Insecticon managed to hit him with a piece of shrapnel. As he tore another piece free of the ship, Invert pulled herself up on her knees, bracing against a nearby tree. Even if they both had blasters, as long as the rocket stayed in the air, neither of them could hit him. 

As if he even cared about her. Busy toying with the giant Insecticon, the scout had already counted her out of his game. What was a broken Seeker thrown around as ammo going to do to a speedster like him?

Idiot. Did everyone think she was useless because she couldn’t fly? Because she was never deployed? Because the thing that made her useful almost killed her? Because she…

Because she would show him, damn it all. Experimental or not, her body was her weapon. Kneeling in the muddy warm, gradually growing pinker from the Energon leaking out of her side, and ignoring the constant warnings pinging in her HUD, Invert gripped her T-Cog tighter. Peering through the trees, she traced the Autobot’s swift movements, waiting for him to dive just a bit closer.

The Insecticon would suffer from this as well. She really didn’t care. He damn deserved it. 

Another metal shriek sounded through the air, followed by more taunting from the Autobot. 

“Alright, I’m getting tired’a this, ‘con. Tell ya what, surrender now, and the great Starburst will put in a good word for ya when my buds arrive, yeah? No need ta’ draw this cybercat and glitchmouse game out anymore!” 

“Get down here and we’ll see how much longer it’s drawn out,” the Insecticon warned. Starburst chortled and promptly took off again, circling and dodging branches as they were hurled for him. 

A sound like a squeal of pain escaped her, which was just as quickly silenced by biting her glossa . Focus, despite how the pain was radiating up her side. Focus, despite how many warnings were flashing in her HUD. Focus, despite how her processor was threatening to offline at any moment. 

An orange and cream blur. The pink of blaster fire. Dark of a leaf. Between the trees. The blue of the sky. Everything was starting to blur. Circling, he was circling. Which meant if she waited till he came just a bit closer, to the spot where the leaves parted and the branches formed the shape of a X– 

She practically ripped her T-Cog out of its socket cranking it to the side. One second the flash of orange was in her sights. The next the crackling of static overcame her vision and consumed her HUD. 

She heard screaming from two voices. They sounded like they were in agony. 

Good. Feel my pain.

As she thought it her body slumped and hit the ground alongside two other splashes. Water covered her optics, blurring her vision as it tried to online, turned to nothing but red, and gave up. A single message flashed several times.

ENERGON LEVELS CRITICAL. INITIATING EMERGENCY STASIS. 

Was this really it? In the heart of the Demon Swamp? She’d always thought she’d go out on Cybertron again, and that it’d be just like the first time, buried in all that rubble. 

It had been lonely. At least here, she had company. Enemies, for sure, but company. They’d all offline together. 

And then she was out. 

[cheesiestburger]

a/n: brain in permanent rot for this- just grrrr bark bark, also, sorry for not replying to this eirlier lol, brain fog is killing me. ngl hes a little ooc in this, idk why i wrote his like this but its what my brain demanded soooo (also aslo, this is not proof read. apologies for any spelling mistakes of just flat out missing letters.)

Characters: Alpha! Katsuki bakugou x Omega! Reader

Warnings: suggestive towards end

Summary: Pro-hero Dynamight catches a glimps of you as he walks by on his patrole, and wants to know more about you.

𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜

Katsuki Bakugou is all that an alpha should be. He's years spent working to be a hero, working to protect, climbing the ranks to the top 10 after only a few years in the feild- earning his title an Alpha- and it shows.

The man is built like a god, strong arms made for carrying heavy loads, thighs like treetrunks, always working to push him forward to where he needs to be. The area surrounding him exudes pure power, that, and his scent. He could have anything, anyone, he wants- whether he asks for it or he takes it himself.

You, however, work at a local bakery, usually behind the cash register, or waiting tables with all kinds of sweet treats and coffee- whatever was needed at the time. A few weeks ago, Pro-Hero dynamight had a change to his schedule, with a new patrol route that just happens to pass by your workplace.

He saw you through the window on the first day of his new route, as he grumbled away to himself about 'how stupid this is' (he was a creature of habit, after all), and he was struck at first by your face. He thought it was beautiful- intricate lines making up your eyes, the creasse in your brow as you lost yourself in thought- and then he walked past, and you were gone. He had half wanted to turn around and see more, maybe go inside and ask your name, but of course that would seem strange- stupid, even, he told himself, so he continued walking, with you at the back of his mind.

The next day, as he bagan partol, he passed your bakery again, this time looking for you, but only to become slightly disgruntled when you werent there- only for you to walk direnct past him from behind and rush into said bakery, giving him a facefull of your scent.

As you rushed inside,accidentally running into what felt like a wall, you were hit with the smell of orange zest and caramel, with the slightest undertone of a burnt or smokey smell. It smelt amazing, calming even, but as you turned to see who it belonged to, you were met wiht Dynamight. The Dynamight. you would spontaniously combust on the spot if you could. Katsuki Bakugou was standing outside your work and you not only ran into him, but only turned around because of his scent.

Katsuki, on the otherhand, was floored. Immediatly addicted to your scent, taking a deep inhale through his nose, and locking eyes with you. He could feel his alpha clawing at his chest to get to you. you just looked so cute! Standing there, face beet red, awkwardly fidgeting as you just stared up at him.

'uhm.. im sorry,.. i didnt mean to bump into you-' you began to babble but got cut off as he smirked down at you, beefy arms crossing across his chest. 'yeah? well how about you be more careful? wouldnt want that pretty face getting hurt, would we?' he teased, your face getting redder by the second. 'okay- sorry, again' you muttered to him, eyes still locked on his. moments pass, the both of you just sort of staring at eachother, before you remeber you do infact have a job and are now running late.

As you turn around, walking back into the bakery, you hear him chuckle and begin to walk away. For the rest of the day, you cant stop thinking about him; his scent, the rippling muscles on his arms and shoulders, so strong you though he was a wall. Katsuki's thoughts are much the same throught the day, except the are directed at you; the way your hair blew slightly in the breeze, the way you smelt like cinnamon and honey, about how your apron sat on your waist, about how good you would look in nothing but your apron.

Katsuki shook his head, trying to rid himself of any more thoughts about you, but to no avail, and decided he might stop by for a coffe tomorrow.

𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜𖦹꩜

[okkotsyui]

tw ig // vent.

i dont know when it started, im guessing the beginning of this year, but my life is just kinda falling apart. probably when i started feeling like this. i feel like everything i once had is literally slipping away from me, and i cant stop it. i lost people i cared about, i feel almost forgotten about most the time, and to top it off my grades started slipping. my dad has always been really tough on scores and school performance, and he got my report card before i did and started yelling at me before i had a chance to see it. grades were something important to me also and they were probably the only thing i could hold above other people, but now that im slipping, i have next to nothing else. nobody gives me a second glance cause i dont stand out compared to my friends, and it doesnt help that they all look like models from a magazine cover. im not popular, which never even bothered me before but its starting to make me feel even more invisible. im not pretty, im as fucking basic as a person can get. im not super skinny and dainty like my friends, who are literally as perfect as a human being could possibly be. the person i thought liked me doesnt even look me in the eye anymore, and it hurts cause i thought that someone actually did love me. my own brother laughs and mocks me openly with his friends, and doesnt say a single thing in my defence when they start making fun of me, but the moment they mention my other sibling, he gets mad and shuts them up. im the laughingstock of my family. burnt out eldest daughter with nothing else to make my stupidly overbearing parents proud. i had people in my own fg who made up lies about me against someone else, and completely shattered any trust i had in any of them by telling each other things i had told them in secrecy and private. one being in my own damn house. people are just so fucking toxic and liars, and now whenever somebody tells me something like "i care about you" or "i promise" i cant trust it for shit cause if i do ill end up getting hurt again and i honestly cannot keep doing this cause im going to fucking break. i give up

[aimfor-theheart]

hello hello, im late and my thoughts are running. it's been awhile cause i think i burnt myself out on a lot of things and i have to prepare emotionally for Godmaker so for now at least, here are my thoughts on the interlude!!

...honestly, i actually dont think i have many thoughts at all. having this tiny glimpse inside Gojo's mind is heartbreaking in its simplicity. his most secretest and deepest held desire, is to be mortal.

that tiny moment of domesticity at the beginning. Gojo with his wife, and their adopted kids, and having friends over for a meal. it's mundane but it must mean everything to him. To them both.

it's so simple. that's all it is. it's rather sad actually.

but it's cool to know that, there IS something outside reader's control. and in fact, it's been influencing her actions for a long time, possibly from the beginning.

and sorry to make this about suguru, but UGH, when gojo is like "sometimes he wondered if suguru wanted to devour her too" YEAH??? TELL ME MORE!!

it makes me all the more scared for the next part, im not ready lol i think i might put it off a lil more

omg i hope you're doing well friend! burnout is tough!! i hope you're able to get some much needed rest and downtime then! take care of yourself <33 and thank you for taking the time to reach out despite the burnout!!

i wanted the interlude to be rather...simple. or like. idk when dealing with such grandiose ideas i often feel like what really matters is the small stuff anyways. also gojo in my mind...wants to be "normal" but never can be. or really would be. even in his attempt to make himself less of a god to the reader, he has sorta been exerting a power and knowledge over her that only he knows again, ya know?

he's stuck in his own paradox a bit. which i thought was fitting for him.

but yes, there is something outside readers control!! finally!! a little peak!!

LMAO suguru. oh suguru. one day i will write a big long fic ab suguru FOR YOU! <3

and pls take your time, i appreciate it greatly always that you support me and read at any point!! and it means the world that you'd reach out too <33

take care of yourself friend!! i hope your week is going well!!

[e17omm]

what IS your comfort fic? :0

A tad embarrassing, but I did feel the urge to reread it again and I did bring it up...

Its not a soft, goofy and fluffy fanfic, its actually dark but I like it a lot with its more unique plot and execution...

It's Black Reaper by Vengfulfate over on ff.net

Its a RWBY AU fanfic, and... Uh, its kinda edgy, but I have caugh myself, in my mind, de-edgy-fying it. Like, every overly edgy moment and detail is toned back by like, 6 in my head.

But despite its edgy (and some cringy) moments... The plot of it is so interesting and I think its plot development is great - especially because theres not many fanfics like it.

So to go over the start (this is assuming that you've watched the first 3 seasons of RWBY (the only good seasons) to their ends)

The Fall of Beacon happens differently. Ruby is dating Velvet and is down in Vale instead of at the stadium, and when the Fall begins, they run into Neo, and stops her before she can use her Semblance to teleport to the ship Roman is on to break him out in time.

So he remains captive. Ruby then makes her way to Beacon and runs into Blake, Yang and Adam! That scene goes differently and Adam is captured, but not before he can throw his blade at Ruby.

This is where the fun begins, because Yang jumps to block it to protect her little sister, logical thing to do. But this isnt a cheesy happy story, so she miscalculates and gets herself impaled.

Then she fucking dies. But Ruby tried to save Yang with her Aura, which doesnt work as her own and Yang's aura turns on her

Ruby takes on Yang's Aura and Semblance. An emotion-based semblance, a semblance that makes her stronger the angrier she is.

And Ruby has no control over Yang's semblance as it is too strong for her, and she was never meant to have it. Take a Yang with a speed Semblance, an anger-based strength Semblance, and double the Aura reserves. Also make her unable to control her anger-based Semblance at all. That's Ruby in Black Reaper.

Queue Ruby getting angry at everything. Stuck in hospital? Mad. People get scared of her? Mad. Cant have a shouting match with Weiss? Mad. Getting hit in training battles? Almost kills Jaune. Banned from training matches? Mad. Mentions of the Fall or of Yang? Mad. This goes on for a year.

She keeps running off to the forest to fight Grimm to vent, until one day she instead ends up in Vale. And she kills a (likely) innocent faunus on the street, because it reminded her of when her sister died. Then she runs away from Beacon.

Months later, Neo finds her in Vale, they team up and break Roman out. And, Ive gone on long enough.

>One of the plotpoints I love is that, Ruby never truly redeems herself. Sure she eventually goes back to being a good guy™... But she's still a criminal at heart now, she casually steals minor stuff like chocolate bars just because she didnt feel like paying for it, even when she has billions in her bank account and a Heiress of a massive company right next to her.

As I said! It is cringy at times and edgy a lot (especially in Black Reaper 1 *mild shudder*), but if you take a step back and look at the idea, the plot, and the storyline - its great.

Its also the one fanfic I keep wanting to reread every now and again, especially when Im feeling down. I dont know, maybe it just brings me back to the past? It was written... 6 and a half years ago? o_o

Sadly the Author got burnt out. I chatted with them privately and it was a mix of burnout due to character bloat (OC's that are pretty good) and feeling like they (the Author) had to give every single character at least a scene in every chapter.

So its abandoned... What's there is pretty good, or at least decent, I think.

As you can probably tell I like it a lot, despite how edge it can be (which I subconsciously dial back in my head. Gotta keep reminding myself that I do that if I want to try to talk about it objectively...)

[ankhisms]

gobus rewatch ep 6 thoughts

ive mentioned many times before that i adore the way the mecha and mecha fights are set up in gobusters, theyre genuinely my favorite mecha set up in any sentai ive watched. i remember in the behind the making of the first ep video the fight choreo director talked about how he wanted each fight to be dynamic and to not be boring, which they honestly achieved really well. ill be honest im one of those toku fans who will zone out during the mecha fight portion of episodes (if the show has a mecha fight) but gobusters was never like that for me. similarly to wizard and blazar i always felt engaged in its fights and they were never boring to me, including the mecha fights. this is in part to the world building and the writing of the show, where the mecha have to undergo a lot of maintenance and we see those mecha workers regularly. the show takes pains to make sure we as the audience are aware that the fight could not be possible with just one person, it takes a whole large team of people working together to be able to fight.

with that in mind i also really love how the trio arent just able to form their combined mecha super easily, we see the three of them going through training simulations and theyve failed over 20 times according to nick. i love the little details in the pilot cockpit, the keypad and controls and codes they have to press in order to perform certain actions, along with them having to take their fuel usage into account. from a character and dynamic perspective, this is good early on because we get the sense that while hiromu has joined the team and hes getting to know youko & ryuuji and we see that theyre generally getting along, hiromu is still not entirely in sync with his teammates. hes frustrated and stubborn, hes gone through these simulations and training sequences with nick presumably hundreds of times before meeting up with the other two at the beginning of the show. he KNOWS hes capable, so whats going on? he did fine when he did it on his own.

i enjoyed ryuuji and hiromus dynamic in this episode. ryuuji, unsuprisingly, very easily slips into a brotherly mentor role to hiromu- but its clearly a different kind of mentorship than how ryuuji would approach guiding youko through something. this episode really highlights just how stubborn hiromu is, he focuses on something and doesnt give up until he solves it and isnt very receptive to being given advice on doing a task differently. and ryuuji, having spent so many years raising another stubborn and strong willed person (youko) is able to percieve this about hiromu and knows that he cant just flat out tell hiromu what hes doing wrong. hes got to be able to work it out himself. but he still is gently nudging hiromu towards the answer while supporting him. we get a sense early on in the episode that hiromu feels a bit tense about ryuuji calling off their training session, as if hes wondering if ryuuji thinks that hiromu just isnt capable enough- but thats not the case at all. ryuuji has probably seen youko get frustrated to the point of needing to walk away from something, and as the eldest of the team he decides to step in before either of the younger two get too frustrated or end up burnt out.

also a note. i dont plan on sacrificing myself for you. oh the early show late show forshadowing irony

the crux of the issue is that hiromu has been training all by himself for 13 years, whereas youko and ryuuji have always trained with each other. hiromu still believes he has to do everything by himself, and subconciously believes that he can only fully trust himself. because of this he hasnt been allowing ryuuji and youko to take the lead and do their parts while he stands back for a moment, he hasnt allowed himself to trust them enough for there to be a proper give and take in their team. and thats not because hiromu doesnt like youko and ryuuji, its just something that he hasnt thought of this entire time. when youve worked and trained alone for your entire life, its jarring to realize that you have people you can rely on and trust.

in the end its another sweet moment and good building of the team, they have to work hard to achieve their goal and they each have different strengths and weaknesses, and hiromu has to realize that he needs to trust his teammates just as they trust him in order for them to survive.

[oddaodd]

· Wailing Teapots ·

Summary: When Tommy begins suspecting of Y/n's true allegiances he goes and questions her in her apartment only to discover a dark secret. (Angst/Fluff)

Warnings: Implications of abuse. (Nothing too graphic but just in case).

Author's note: I'm back! It feels so good to write again! My life has been a bit hectic lately, but I hope I can continue to make time for my writing because it honestly feels like coming back home after the most exhausting of voyages. Anyhow I hope y'all enjoy this and have the loveliest of days. ❤️

·

Three strong knocks on the door stole Y/n’s attention from the live fire burning in her fireplace. With quiet feet she tiptoed to the door and placed her hand on the doorknob and stood still hoping to hear something that could tell her who it was behind the door, but she could only hear her own heartbeat beating violently in her ribcage as she held her breath.

She slightly hated herself for being afraid, but she couldn’t not be afraid, not with all the letters that had been delivered to her home.

“I know you’re in there Y/n”

As soon as she recognized the voice as Tommy’s, she finally breathed again before partly opening the door a weak smile gracing her features when she took in the sight of him. Before she could ask him what he was doing there he pushed the door open and allowed himself inside.

The smile vanished from her face in an instant and she quickly closed the door. There was something different about him, something that made the hairs on her arms stand up in trepidation. His eyes didn’t look like they had done a few nights prior when he took Y/n to the outskirts of town for a walk. The kind of walk in which one shares the kind of conversations that makes people grow closer together, the kind of walk which ends with a gentle kisses and fleeting touches.

“This is a nice place” he commented taking off his peaky cap, not even sparing Y/n a glance as he began walking slowly through the apartment which though small and plain held a considerable amount of expensive yet tasteful looking knick knacks that brightened up the whole place despite the old furniture that had beed there when Y/n first moved in.

“You couldn’t have waited for a formal invitation, could you?” She asked in a light tone still standing by the door, in the hope that it could change Tommy’s odd aura, but he ignored her question all together

“Almost too nice, wouldn’t you agree?” He asked picking up a vase and examining it before finally turning to look at Y/n.

“Tommy?” She asked, not really knowing why was he acting so strange.

“I know I pay you fair wages” he began, putting the vase down fixing his eyes on the fireplace where small traces of burnt paper rested “but I highly doubt you were able to make yourself of such an array of treasures with what I pay you.”

“All of this came with me from America.” She said feeling like she ought to explain herself and though her answer was an honest one, Tommy didn’t seem convinced, nevertheless, he hummed in mocking understanding before clearing his throat .

“Aren’t you gonna offer me tea?”

“Sure…where are my manners?” she said with a nervous laugh before walking to where her stove was and putting a kettle on.

Tommy followed her closely and drew a chair from her flimsy kitchen table before sitting down and taking notice of her shaky hands as she tied around a bit in the kitchen with her back to him as he sat on her favorite chair.

“Wish you had told me you were coming, I would have..”she began as she opened her pantry to put away some bread.

“You’ve been burning letters” he interrupted, not being able to shake off the image of the paper remains.

Y/n stilled for a moment before closing her pantry, thing which he noticed.

“Yeah, I don’t have the room to keep every single letter I get ” Y/n said, a defensiveness lingering softly in her words.

“I agree” Tommy said in a cold tone “specially when you are getting so many of them. Paul tells me he delivers at least 10 a week here” he continued, referring to the mailman who after being questioned by Tommy forgot all about post confidentiality.

“They are my mother’s” Y/n stuttered out.

The teapot then wailed, making her jump slightly before going to remove it from the stove and finally turning around to go and pour Tommy a cup.

“Right” Tommy said, his eyes not leaving Y/n’s figure as she poured the tea.

“Yeah, she’s ever so passionate about plants, been telling me all a-a-about her new greenhouse.” She continued pressured by Tommy’s heavy stare and silence.

Tommy offered a small cynical smile that Y/n didn’t see, she didn’t want to look at him. She felt like crying for she realized just then how suspicious she looked.

The sound of the chair being drawn again teased at Y/N’s ears, forcing her to look up at Tommy who was calmly walking towards her. She had never been afraid of him, but she couldn’t help but back away as he inched closer to her, her eyes widening.

“Who is Clyde Attenborough?” He asked producing another letter from his pocked like the many ones Y/n had been receiving for a while now. Same stamps and everything.

Color drained from her face at the sight of the letter and she found herself unable to produce an answer as her back came in soft contact with her pantry.

“What does he know? He asked.

“Where I live” Y/n whispered sorrowfully as a tear finally slipped down her cheek. Her eyes being for mercy.

“What have you been telling him?”

“Nothing” she answered truly.

“I bet he pays generously to know how the company works”

“I swear im not working for anyone else” Y/n stuttered, finally understanding why Tommy was so suspicious. Being his secretary, she knew plenty about the skeletons the family kept.

“Then why are you crying?” He pressed.

“Because you’re scaring me.”

Her words seemed to have an effect on Tommy for he immediately backed away, throwing the letter on the table, his back to her.

”I’m not gonna hurt you” he stated, beating himself up for corralling Y/n like that. His voice much less menacing than mere seconds ago. “Who is Clyde Attenborough?”

“I haven’t been honest with you” she finally confessed sniffing. To hell with everything.

At this Tommy turned around to look at her an unpleasant mix of emotions swimming in his eyes.

“Im married” she sobbed “Clyde’s my husband”

For the first time in a long time, Tommy was caught off guard.

“I came to Small Heath because I ran away from him, I figured he’d never find me but..” She said taking the letter in her shaky hands as if the thing were to blow off in any given second “I guess I was wrong. I-I don’t know how he found me”

She shifted her teary gaze from the letter to a shocked Tommy “I swear im not passing information” she chuckled sadly, the knot in her throat choking her a little.

Tommy stood glued in the same spot, not knowing what to do. His world had come crashing down when he began suspecting of Y/n’s alliances after Polly suggested he look into it. A pretty American girl, moving to a grey English town, taking up a job that was exhausting at best. It reminded him a little too much of Grace.

Now that he knew the truth , he didn’t feel any better.

“Is he dangerous?” He found himself asking after a few seconds of silence.

Y/n sniffed as she walked to her fireplace “I wouldn’t have left if he wasn’t” she said as she threw the letter into the crackling flames.

“Is he in Birmingham?”

“He keeps writing that he’ll come get me if I don’t go back, but im not sure” she answered.

Tommy fought the urge to go up to her and take her in his arms and instead put his peaky cap back on before heading for the door.

“I’m sorry” he whispered before stepping out of her place, The guilt of intimidating her in her own house gnawing at his insides and the newfound anger her husband created present on his drive home.

The next day Y/n noticed as she peeped out the window two men, both in peaky caps standing at the entrance of her apartment complex.

Three more days passed and Y/n was again surprised tby the sound of three knocks on her door as she read one evening.

“Its me, Y/N” Tommy’s voice flowed through the door shortly after the knocks.

Y/n quickly got off her couch and made her way to open the door. Her eyes falling on Tommy’s apologetic features.

“It’s dealt with” he said in all seriousness. The thick accent she loved so much vibrating through her ears.

As soon as she registered what Tommy had just said she let out a strained breath, her lips turned into a tired smile and a lone tear slipped out her misty eyes.

“Wanna come in?” She asked after a few seconds, feeling happier than she had felt for days.

“Is this a formal invitation?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips, relieved that his antics from a few days prior hadn’t maimed Y/n´s trust.

At his question she just smiled, looking at him lovingly before taking hold of his hand and pulling him into her apartment before pressing her lips to his in a soft yer passionate manner. Without breaking the kiss, Tommy then closed the door.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz @lilymurphy03 @slytherinicequeen

[lcandothisallday]

friends to lovers concept

where you actually burnt your neck using your hair strainer and jack thinks its a hickey, and you have to like explain everything to him but he's not buying it while everyone just watching you two go back and forth

LOL I LOVE THIS. considering this is a friends to lovers, im assuming they're not dating obvi and that he's super jealous and it comes out for the first time in this scenario😌 I really wanted a jack self-sabotage moment near the end but I decided to be nice to you guys😌 lmk if you want to know what I would've done lol 

                                                          ___

You plop down onto the couch opposite where Jack sat, immediately beginning to talk the person next to you. Jack glanced at you quickly before practically doing a double take upon seeing the purplish red mark on your neck. He couldn't help but stare at it with jealousy bubbling inside of him.

You can feel the stare, stopping the conversation with your friend and raising a brow at Jack. "You good?" you ask him.

"You've got a hickey," he points out matter of factly, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he continued to look at you.

You instantly shake your head and lowkey curse at yourself for not covering up your burn. "It's not a hickey. I burned myself using my hair straightener," you explain but you can hear him scoff at your 'excuse'.

All the other people in the room suddenly went quiet, turning to look at one another with amused expressions as they watched and were intrigued at you two going back and fourth.

"That's like the first excuse in the book," Jack argued. "Who gave it to you? Didn't see any guy going into your room," he mumbled. He knew that his friends were watching but he couldn't hold back. He was jealous and he wanted to know who got to you before he did.

"Oh my god, Jack! I said it was my straightener," you groan.

"You rarely straighten your hair!"

"Exactly the more reason to believe that I burned myself because I'm not used to using it often," you rebut, crossing your arms in front of you as you stared at him. "Even if it was a hickey--its literally none of your business and you shouldn't be calling it out in front of everyone," you argue, motioning with your head at everyone in the room who were nosey and watching the encounter.

A few of the guys snicker quietly and Urban only mutters to Jack, "she's got a point."

Jack rolls his eyes and gets up suddenly. “Whatever,” he mumbles, heading straight into his room. After that, everyone pretends to busy themselves, no doubt discussing Jack’s jealous outburst with one another. 

You take the opportunity to sneak off and knock on Jack’s bedroom door since you personally weren't quite done discussing it yet. “I’m coming in, Jack,” you warn, pushing the door open and slipping in before shutting it.

“What’s your issue?” you ask him. He looked up from his phone and tossed it aside before he leaned back with his hands on the bed. 

“Just wanna know why you’d lie to me.”

“I’m not lying though,” you sigh. “Why are you being so arrogant?”

Jack springs up from the bed and walks towards you, observing your neck closer. “Because it looks like a fucking hickey, Y/N.”

“What do you want me to say, Jack? That yes it is a hickey from last night’s hookup?” you ask him in confusion. “Because it’s not,” you state, standing strong and looking him directly in his eyes, trying to understand the emotion behind them.

“Are you jealous?” you ask him firmly. His eyes widen before he scoffs and plays it off smoothly while shaking his head but you cup his cheeks and redirect his gaze back onto you. “Are you jealous?” you ask him again. “Because that’s the only reasonable explanation for your outburst, J,” you sigh.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he blurts out. You blink a few times, his confession throwing you off a bit. You expected him to confess jealousy, not his love for you. 

Jack sighs, removing your hands from his face and just holding them in his. “The thought of you being with another guy--man, it makes my fucking blood boil. I don’t know when it happened...I just know that I am.”

Without hesitation, you lean up and press your lips to his, them molding to one another’s almost like its meant it to be. You pull away, giggling as you softly peck his lip once again. “You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you tease. He only rolls his eyes but the smile is still evident on his lips.

“I’m new to this,” he mumbles. 

You squeeze his hands and nod. “I know,” you reply. “You’ve just gotta trust me,” you whisper, leaning your lips closer to his once more. “Because I feel the same about you and I promise I won’t ever hurt you like that,” you mumble, before you kiss him again.

[kisekinodrabbles]

omgggg im so so happy you’re back!! i don’t know if you remember but you had a request about an almond/reader fight when they were in a long distance relationship and u left us on a cliffhanger (like maybe reader hanging on aomine or something like that??) and i wanted to know if they were a tiny little bit of chance for you to write a second part where either they break up bc they can’t handles long distance or they solves their problem (which is tbh my fave option bc my heart LOVES angst to fluff tbh)

omg thank you so much for letting me work on a sequel to this little old drabble that i forgot about hahah even if it’s a year too late. i hope you enjoy! wc: 2.2k

Part of you knew that this relationship was doomed the moment he decided to leave. Still, Aomine isn't someone you can so easily let go. There are moments when he frustrated you to no end, conversations that ended with you wanting to tear your hair out. But the good days always trumped the bad — little surprises while you were at work, phone calls just to tell you that he missed you.

Now, you're not so sure if there was even a relationship to salvage. Your last… discussion ended poorly and the two of you are stubborn enough to avoid another one. While you know you're in the right, so does Aomine. Your phone has been silent and, as time stretched on, the lack of messages from his end has your blood boiling.

If he's going to ignore you, then you'll do the same to him.

Your heart ached knowing that Aomine was probably still just as unaffected — a stoic, cold man who cared only about basketball. That's what everyone else believed of him. You thought you knew different, but it seems that you've been proven wrong. It felt even worse thinking about that girl that had caused this rift in the first place; you're left wondering if she was still glued to his side.

Maybe the two of you were never meant to last.

Quietude is not a trait you handle well. It takes more energy for you to resist checking your phone than it does to actually pick it up and find your phone void of notifications. At this point, you figure that this is what your relationship has come to. Like ashes fluttering in the wind, a burnt and destroyed memento dissipating into nothing.

The days pass in a blur, every day a wash, rinse, repeat of the previous. You bury yourself in work and your manager compliments you for your hard work, unaware of the turmoil plaguing your heart. Mountains of paperwork weigh heavy on your shoulders, but you prefer to deal with that than the issue that you can't even begin to tackle.

When you finally get home at the end of the night, weariness clings to your bones like an old friend. You soak in your tub, finding the steam a welcome comfort. Just when you think you're finally finding some peace, your phone pings with a familiar tune. Lurching towards it is instinctual at this point, you're desperate for any small morsel of information.

Where are you?

After a week of zero communication, this is what Aomine starts with. Flames lick up your cheeks as you feel your blood surge in irritation. Not even a sorry or an I miss you. Pursing your lips, you put your phone screen down on the counter and decide to ignore it for now. After the bath, you can barely keep your eyes open — the emotional and physical turmoil finally taking its toll on you. You walk straight to bed and succumb to slumber soon after.

When you awake, nighttime still blankets the sky in darkness. Your room is bathed in pale moonlight, but it is not your lonely companion that startles you from your sleep. Instead, you hear a distant, rhythmic thumping outside. At first, you figure it’s one of your drunken neighbors. But the sound occurs in rapid succession and you wonder if you should be concerned. You pad over quietly to the door and glance through the peep hole to find no one there, so you unlock your door and swing it open.

The sight before you feels like a shivering wake up call. There, Aomine sits on the floor by your door, his tuft of midnight blue hair unruly. You realize then that the sounds was from his dribbling basketball, ever present in his hands. The noise stops the moment you open your door and Aomine jerks, looking up in sheer surprise. His eyes, dark and wide, seem to glimmer. 

He jumps to his feet almost instantly, taking you aback. “What the fuck? You were here the whole time?” His voice is gruff and dry, tainted by the cold. 

However, your brain is still playing catch-up, failing to grasp the fact that Aomine isn’t thousands of miles away, in another city, country, and continent. He’s here. At your door. 

“What are you doing here?” is the only thing you manage to ask. 

Aomine doesn’t grace you with a response, instead shuffling his feet as he scowls. “I thought you were out.”

“Well, I’m not,” you clear your throat. 

Aomine doesn’t seem to push any further, instead frowning as he asks, “Can you let me in? It’s fucking freezing.”

Wordlessly, you step to the side and grant him space to enter your house. Aomine is quiet as he steps in. You take his jacket to hang it and the cold pierces through the comfort of your home. His large frame feels imposing in your small apartment, and you never realize how much space he takes up wherever he goes. While he gets himself settled, swapping out jeans for sweats, you boil water to prepare tea for him. 

The tension hangs heavy in the air, unsaid words stringing the atmosphere tight. You’re not sure what to say in that moment, you don’t even know why he’s here instead of Los Angeles. As your mind scrambles for theories, Aomine puts a hush to the racing. His shadow falls upon the counter before you, his hands splayed out on either side of you as he hovers close. He tucks his chin on your shoulder and you hear him breathe in before exhaling slowly. 

Your kettle whistles to signal the water is done, but Aomine doesn’t move even after you switch off the stove. “Let me get some tea for you,” you say quietly.

He’s still for a moment, deciding what to do, but then shifts over to give you some breathing room. 

When the two of you finally seat yourselves in the tiny living room, knee to knee, Aomine sips his tea without a word. “What are you doing here, Dai?” The nickname slips too easily from your lips. A sign of familiarity.

“Wanted good Japanese food,” he grumbles under his breath.

You know that’s a lie because he raves about LA’s Little Tokyo and Japantown, stacks of restaurants that serve delicious dishes that remind him of home. “Dai,” you sigh.

“I thought you were out, why didn’t you respond? I was knocking for a while.” He swiftly maneuvers the conversation, opting to push blame on you instead as his brows pucker in a frown.

“I fell asleep, long day.”

Aomine purses his lips, mulling over his thoughts. “Shoulda answered. It’s cold as shit out there.”

“Well, it’s not as if you gave me a heads up you were coming.”

“Don’t people like surprises?”

You lick your lips, crossing your arms over your chest as you shift slightly away from him. “We haven’t spoken for days and you just suddenly show up here.” 

“Well, what the hell was I supposed to do when you gave me an ultimatum that you wanted to break up with me?”

“You communicate, that’s what couples do,” you snap.“You didn’t text me.”

“You didn’t either.”

By the look on his face, you can tell he’s biting his tongue. “Figured it would be good to talk in person. Been a while since we saw each other anyway.”

“We could’ve just video-called.”

“You always text me,” Aomine emphasizes instead, putting his cup down. “You didn’t text.”

If you didn’t know any better, you swear he’s sulking. Aomine doesn’t sulk. He’s the Aomine Daiki — he doesn’t go to people, people come to him. The same way you had done years ago. “I didn’t feel like talking to you, and it didn’t seem like you wanted me to talk to you either.”

“That’s not true,” Aomine retorts. 

“Conversations are a two-way street. It doesn’t really count if I’m just texting someone who doesn’t respond; I might as well talk to a wall.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“And so have I.”

This discussion is going nowhere, the two of you too difficult to admit when one’s in the wrong. Or both. 

“Will you come here?” Aomine grunts instead, gesturing to himself. 

Just to be petulant, you pinch your lips and look away. “Don’t feel like it.”

Without a warning, he tugs you over to his side. His strength has always been clear, but you still let out a yelp when you’re yanked onto his lap. His arms are quick to wrap around you, keeping you in place no matter how much you struggle. “Sit still,” he mutters.

“What is wrong with you?” You twist around and smack his chest. “You can’t just show up here without telling me. You’re supposed to be in America with your cool team and your cool friends doing cool things. Why the fuck did you come here?”

“Can’t help it if a certain someone wasn’t talking to me.”

“It’s not like you tried either!”

Aomine shifts his gaze to the wall past you, to the shelf that holds frames with photographs of your loved ones. Aomine is in one too many of them. “You always text first.”

“Maybe this time I wanted you to do it yourself.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck, nose still cold. “Missed you.”

That confession is perhaps what startles you the most. Aomine has always been insufferable when it comes to relationships. You’ve heard it before from your friends how the man isn’t great at maintaining friendships or romantic pursuits, because he’s never been one to show effort. But you knew better. At least you thought you did, until he moved away oceans away from you. “Missed you too,” you reply begrudgingly, knowing full well that you mean it. 

Aomine turns you away from him, keeping your back pressed against his front as he leans his forehead on your back. “I was worried,” he mutters, “when you didn’t text. You always text me in the morning. I thought—” he swallows “—you broke up with me. That you were serious. Gave it a day, thought you were just busy. You still didn’t text.”

You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue, but quietly absorbing his words. Aomine’s never been the vocal type unless on the basketball court. So when he speaks, many listen. 

“I didn’t… call, because I didn’t want to hear you say that we were done. Because if I called or texted and you didn’t respond, I don’t know what I would’ve done.” He takes a deep breath. “Took me a while to convince the coach to let me go home for a little bit, but he could tell my head wasn’t in the game. Kept picking fights with my teammates, and I know how much you hate when I do that.”

You do know that. After all, you built your high school reputation on taming the feral Aomine. The one who could never work well with his team. You had called him out on it years ago, reminded him that this was a team sport. He had called you annoying, but listened anyway. He stopped arguing so much with his team. 

Aomine doesn’t say anything else and you release a deep exhale, turning around to face him. You run your fingers through his hair, silky strands slightly stiff from the breeze. “I wouldn’t do that,” you mutter, “I didn’t mean to give you an ultimatum, I was just upset. I’m sorry for making you worry.” You press a kiss on his temple and you feel his shoulders sag. “I just hated feeling like I was the only one who still cared about this, about us. You’re living your life there and… it just felt like you were moving on without me.”

At that, your boyfriend scowls again. “The reason I’m still there is because I have you to keep me going, stupid.” You frown at the insult, but before you can interrupt, he continues. “I wanna do my best, become the best, for you. Kind of fucking pointless if you’re not gonna be there to cheer me on.”

“You’re so stupid,” you say. 

“Well, you are too. Why the fuck are you getting jealous over some other girl over there? No one even comes close. Fucking obsessed with you and I can’t even begin to think about anyone else. Anytime I do anything, all I can think about is doing all these things with you once I come back.” 

The thing about Aomine is — when he starts spilling his heart, you can’t help but gather all the pieces and place them into your own. When he says something, you know he means it. “I love you,” you whisper, leaning down to brush your lips against his.

Aomine’s hand wraps around the back of your neck as he hungrily chases your lips. “Fuckin’ love you too. Don’t be stupid again. Swear to god, next time you don’t text, I’m strapping your ass on a plane and taking you with me to the states for good.”

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Maybe you’ll be the one sticking your butt on a plane again for an impromptu visit. Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done it.”

His lips curl into a slow smirk. “You’re a fuckin’ menace.”

“But you love me.”

“But I love you.”

[simluvbot]

when you scratch their back (enhypen hyung line)

tags: fluff, bf!enha, gn reader

member: hyung line only, I’ll do maknae like at some point if I requested !

word count: short drabble for each member (:

HEESEUNG

it was around 11PM when hee got home, and from the way his eyes were closing upon entering your bedroom after his shower, you could tell he was completley exhausted after practice

“how was your shower?” you asked quietly as heeseung got into bed next to you, sliding under the heavy covers. “relaxing?”

“mm.” he huffed, eyes barely open as he snuggled against you. ”it was so nice. i wanted to stay under the hot water forever.” your boyfriend mumbled, and you chuckled quietly at his words, combing your fingers through his freshly-washed hair.

“a hot shower always is good to make you feel relaxed.” you commented, sliding your hands towards his back and subconsciously scratching idly at his exposed skin.

open to read more!

hearing heeseung heaving a small gasp, you look down in surprise. 

“nothing. sorry. it just feels good when you do that.” 

you laugh at your boyfriend who is usually so eloquent stumbling for words, and he snuggles his face deeper into the crrok of your neck, a small grin on his lips.

“it’s okay hee. anything to make you feel good.”

JAY

“i cant believe im doing this.” you huff, sending daggers to the back of jay’s head as you sit behind him, hands on his shoulders as you perform a massage on your best friend.

jay simply laughs at your complaining, obviously enjoying the rewards of winning your mario kart game. you watch his face from his reflection in his bedroom mirror in front of you both, and despite feeling bummed out about losing to your best friend and ultimatley having to give him a massage as a penalty, you cant help but to smile a little at how relaxed he seems to be, for once sitting quietly rather than being loud and blabbering his jay-nonsense around you.

“you should have tried harder at winning then.” he says quietly, hugging a pillow in his arms which you noticed he had picked up.

you both sit in a comfortable silence for a while as you continue your minsitartions on his shoulder blades and back. kneading your hands and initially trying to do a good job at massaging, had now turned into you sitting in your own thoughts and somehow coming to idly scratch at his back through the thin material of his cotton shirt.

eyeing his expression through the mirror, you watch silently at his peaceful expression, eyes closed and humming quietly at the feeling of your nails gently raking against his back.

“is this okay?” you ask after a while, unsure if he was liking this.

“yeah.” he says, opening his eyes and meeting your gaze through the mirror. your heart flutters, feeling the familiar swarm of butterflies in your tummy at how soft yoyr best friend seems to look, a side of him you rarely have seen.

Perhaps you should start losing more mario kart games.

JAKE

an afternoon of baking cookies and fighting each other with flour later, you and your boyfriend jake were now much calmer. 

you both decided to watch a film together on his sofa, eating the.. well, mostly burnt cookies that you both had spent the entire afternoon baking.

he had his head laying on your chest and with his body half-on you and half on your side, meaning that it made it perfectly comfotable for you to fiddle around with the material of the back of his hoodie.

you had been idly doing a mix of gently rubbing and scratching on his back for a few minutes, and after a while you decided to slowly slide your hand down and under the soft cotton material of his hoodie, watching him to see if he would say anything.

he doesnt, but instead keeps his eyes trained on the tv as you smooth your hand over his hot skin, scratching gently at his back.

turning his head to face you, jake huffs a breath as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, giggling quietly.

you frown, laughing in confusion as your boyfriend breaks into a fit of vigorous giggles against you. “jake? what’s funny?”

“nothing nothing.” he giggles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing small kisses against your collarbones. 

you gasp at the feeling, suddenly feeling flustered and stopping your ministartions on his back at your boyfriend’s sudden decision to pounce on you randomly in the middle of a film ( cause ?? 😭😭)

“is the film funny?” you ask laughing at the giddy puppy on your chest, unable to stop from giggling yourself.

“naurrr. i’m just ticklish - it tickles, it tickles.”

you frown, stuck in place for a moment as you process his words. ticklish? tickl- 

“oh.” you say after a moment. “i thought you-”

pausing your sentence, you suddenly squeal as your boyfriend begins to tickle your sides relentlessly, sitting up now so he’s leaning above you with his legs on either side of yours as he continues his ruthless attack at your sides.

“JAKE!”

SUNGHOON

you watch the sky and its grey clouds above, feeling a chill at the cold temperatures of autumn.

“are you cold?” 

turning to face your boyfriend sunghoon, you smile sheepishly. “a little.”

despite it being early september and with the temperatures of summer starting to fall sharply; blue skies being replaced by grey ones, you still wanted to go on a picnic with sunghoon in the park since you both had completley missed that off of your summer bucket list together. 

you feel him hesitate next to you for only a second, before he’s bringing you into his chest gently so you’re both turned on your sides facing each other.

Smiling gently into his shirt, you close your eyes and allow yourself to relax in your boyfriend’s hold, enjoying the rare skinship that sunghoon shares with you.

“This is much better.” You say contentedly after a while, reaching a hand over to behind his back and beginning to draw small patterns and shapes on his back.

“Hm. You’re lucky I found this private park where we know no one will disturb us.” Sunghoon mutters above you, and you giggle, continuing your ministrations on his back and gently starting to rake your nails over his shirt gently.

“Really, why?” You ask curiously.

“Because otherwise I wouldn’t be risking embarrassment by being seen laying on the grass in the middle of winter like an idiot.”

You roll your eyes, hitting sunghoon’s chest.

“Whatever. You love me.”

“Yeah yeah I do!” He says quickly. “Sorry, please continue scratching my back?”

“Fine. But only if you say sorry.”

[retroellie]

(I love your work btw!!! 🥺💕) Can you make an imagine where the reader is cooking dinner for Ellie, but then Ellie starts feeling a bit needy for the reader while watching her cook, and ends up roughly fucking her on the kitchen counter, which leads to the food being burnt and they end up getting takeout instead? 😩

Summary: Cooking dinner until Ellie gets a nasty idea

A/N: I promised more farm!ellie so here ya go. Thank you for the request love <3 Thank you for enjoying and i know you said take out but like i started writing and was like oh shit they meant modern world, so i completely forgot im sorry AHSJA. Anyways mom!ellie

Warnings: NSFW, Strap-on, Fingering, Pregnant sex

Word count: 3.7K

"Shit." Ellie huffed, shutting the heavy door to the barn.

There was so much work still needed to do on the farm, the hen shed needed to be built still so for now they were spread out across the barn and the cows pen needed to be expanded. There was so much left to do and ellie was nervous y'all might not get it done by the time winter got here.

She had been out there all day working on getting all the animals comfortable in their new homes, the pigs being the hardest. As of right now though the sun was beginning to set and Ellie was starving. You had gone in not too long ago because you were becoming overheated, not well for the baby in your belly.

Ellie walked through the field, seeing how pretty the house looked in the sunset light. All the pretty oranges and reds spread across the wood of the house, she wished she had her sketchbook so she could get down the quick picture before it left her brain.

She reached the house, taking her shoes off so she didn't get mud on the floor. She could hear faint sounds of music, if she was real quiet she could hear you humming along with it. She smiled at the peacefulness she felt right now, suddenly all the stresses she had about the barn vanished. Suddenly she thought the barn was a great idea, if this was how it would be all the time then she could die a happy woman.

She set her shoes next to yours, taking one good look at the fields before going in. The sun buried itself behind the hills, casting a glow on the flowing laundry allowing her to see small peaks of the barn. She couldn't wait for the kid to be running through here, she could see it now. She could see herself running after the kid, small laughs coming from the both of them.... her kid. The thought made her smile.

She finally opened the screen door, the smell of dinner filling the air around her. That's when she saw in the dim light of the candle filled room, you in the middle of it all. You were dressed in a cute little cottage dress that you were given at the baby shower, and one of the women of the town made it for you.

You were making something on the stove, not noticing her presence until the screen door slammed behind her. You jumped slightly, the perks of living in a post-apocalyptic world. You gave a small smile when you realized it was her before averting your eyes to the pot in front of you.

Ellie placed her things down on the small table by your back door, her eyes glued to you. She made her way over to you, seeing a cookbook opened right next to you. There were so many types of vegetables out along with some bread and meat. You always did know how to surprise her with your old world cookbook.

"Long day at work Mrs. Williams?" You smiled, teasing her a bit.

"Long and hard, Mrs. Williams." She came up behind you, placing her large hands on your hips.

She swayed a bit to the music, watching you stir the food in the pot. You smiled at her sudden affection, the feeling of her hands gripping softly at your waist making you blush slightly. One of her hands made its way to your belly, noticing how much bigger it had gotten since y'all moved here.

"How are my girls doing?" She asked, caressing your stomach softly.

When you guys first found this place you were only a couple weeks along, not even 9 weeks along. Now you're almost 6 months old, you have gotten bigger and bigger. Your glow had only increased as well, you looked really good and really happy as well. Most nights were better than others obviously, the paranoia and depression of the outside world can be hard especially on a pregnant woman.

"We're doing okay, she's a little shit and won't settle down but hopefully food will calm her down." You replied, watching as the broth bubbled.

You could feel Ellie's grin on your neck, kisses halting for only a minute just to look down at the bubbles as well. It looked like chicken noodle soup but Ellie couldn't be sure. Her hands continued to caress your belly, feeling as the baby moved around. She will never get used to that, the feeling of a baby in your stomach.

She was dragged out of her thoughts when you turned your head to connect your lips together. She was caught off guard but happily moved her lips to yours, one hand still sitting on your hip and the other slightly pushing you back to rest yourself on her chest. You chuckled into the kiss, pushing her away slightly with your butt.

"Honey, I love you but you smell like a pig pen..." You joked, turning back to the oven. "Go get cleaned up for dinner, it has another 20 or 30 minutes left."

She laughed, stepping away from you for the first time since she came into the house. She gave your ass a soft smack before trailing herself up stairs. You let out a surprised yelp, giggling as you watched her walk to the doorway and stop in her tracks.

"behave yourself while i'm upstairs... You think you can do that?" She joked, giving you a small grin.

"Ugh that'll be impossible...how could I behave myself when I know you're washing pig shit off your hands just up the stairs." You joked back.

Ellie chuckled and made her way upstairs, jogging up the stairs and into your bedroom. It didn't take much to get cleaned up, she just changed into a plain white shirt and some random pair of jeans she found on the dresser.

While she was placing her dirty clothes into the hamper she caught a glimpse of one of your guys toys. It was a strap on, it was one you used often but it worked for the two of you. That's when the best idea came to her, she didn't hesitate in grabbing the strap on. She put it on tightly so it wouldn't fall off.

When she was comfortable with it, not too tight and not too loose she pulled up her jeans. It wasn't too noticeable, the strap was mostly folded in between her legs so it didn't show through her jeans. She smiled at her nasty idea before walking back down stairs, seeing you in the same position you were before. This time your eyebrows were knitted together in frustration, licking your lips which sent tingles through ellie.

She went back to the same position she was at only minutes before her nasty idea, but this time her hands roughly grabbed at you. There was a slight change in her presence than the last time, it was once innocent and peaceful but now it was like a lion staring down its prey.

Her lips were once again attached to your neck, hands bunching up your dress slightly. The roughness distracted you a bit, not expecting her mood to change within seconds. One of her hands was slowly making its way under your dress, giving you only a split second to realize what she was going.

You didn't know if it was you being pregnant or what but you were almost immediately putty in her hands, in between your legs already called for her. Her hand was slowly running up your thigh, no time was waiting.

"Ellie... I have to make dinner!" You stated, hand grabbing on to the counter for leverage.

"You said 20 minutes right??" She asked, watching as you gave her a small nod. "I can make you cum at least 3 times before...."

Those words made you weak, you could feel the wet spot on your underwear grow more and more. Ellie sucked and bit at your neck, leaving small bruises. Her hand made it all the way to your thigh, feeling the wet spot. She gave a cocky grin, knowing she was the one doing that.

"Besides, dinner can wait..." She paused, moving her hand that rested on your waist to your chest, grabbing at your flesh softly. " Well, you pussy seems to think so." She teased.

You let out a small groan, letting go of the spoon you had been holding too grab at her hand that was grabbing at your boobs. You usually would give her a hard time, tease her as much as she teases you but right now... your hormones were everywhere and your body was so different than it was, you just couldn't fight back your desire for her.

She took a few steps back, taking you back with her so you were safely away from the stove before moving your panties to the side. She started off small with her movements, placing two fingers on your clit, circling them around to send small moments of pleasure to your core.

You moaned into the air, the increased sensitivity of your body changing made the movements feel more intense than they once were. Your head moved back to capture her lips in a kiss, while her fingers worked on the little bud between your folds.

The kiss was passionate, no teeth clashing or sloppy tongue action but like two puzzle pieces being perfect for each other. Your head craned back, wanting more of her lips and you were honestly afraid of breaking your neck but it just felt so good.

Ellie's hand on your chest pulled down your dress, releasing our boobs into the cold air. She was just able to pull it down to your waist but that was enough access for her. She grabbed at one of your boobs, playing with the sensitive nipple.

She watched as you gasped into her mouth, eyes slightly rolling back into your head. She took that as a cue to shove two fingers inside of you, thumb still rubbing at your clit. You couldn't last too much longer and she knew it, everything felt so different from your not pregnant body so she had to treat it differently.

Your walls immediately clamped around her finger, the knot in your body ready to explode. You grabbed on to her, one hand on her arm and the other moving back to grab her thigh to balance yourself. It all happened so fast and you didn't even know it was happening until waves of pleasure were sent all over your body and your juice dripped onto ellies hand.

Some strangled moans left your mouth, as your body felt like it was on fire and your stomach did twist and turns. You tried to catch your breath, wincing as Ellie took her fingers out of you. Ellie allowed you to slowly come down from you high, knowing she was not done with you yet.

"Sorry I came so fast...." You breathed out, moving to fix your dress back before Ellie pulled you back to her.

"Who said I'm done with you.." She spoke, moving her hand down to her jeans before pulling out the strap.

You gasped at the feeling of it, feeling it hit your lower back. You couldn't help but feel pathetic at the fact you were still so fucking horny even though you already came once, you felt greedy but you ddin't care.

"I said 3 times right?" She spoke, not asking but telling you.

You bit your lip at the tone of her voice, feeling your cunt flutter and drip onto your now soaked underwear. Your cheeks were red along with the flush skin of your chest from Ellie grabbing at your tender boobs.

Ellie pulled you closer to her, standing you still while she pulled your dress all the way down to your ankles. The feeling of her being fully dressed and you being completely naked, the degradation of it making your legs shake more than they already were. You were in nothing but your underwear that were pushed to the side and ellies hands settling down on your hips.

Ellie spread your legs a tad, moving a finger to slide through your folds. You winced a tad, overstimulated slightly but so ready to be fucked once again. Ellie got you nice and wet, lining up the strap to your puffy folds.

"Do you need anything? Water? Or do you want to sit down? i co..." She started but wasn't able to finish her sentence

"Jesus Christ ellie just fuck me already." You interrupted, moving your hips back to try to fuck yourself on the strap.

Ellie chuckled but you didn't have to tell her twice, she slowly inserted the strap but that wasn't until you moved your hips back and forth. The action of you fucking yourself on the strap made her stumble back slightly, hitting the sink so her back was flush against it.

You didn't have a set speed, you sped up and then slowed down just whatever felt the best at the moment. Ellie watched as you sunk down onto it, watching it go in and out of you. She was getting a little antsy, wanting to thrust in and out of you while holding you down on the cabinet.

Oh how she wanted to fuck you so hard, but you were fragile at the moment so she let you take your time. Instead she placed her hands on your hips, helping you push your weight onto her. Your thighs were burning, the way you had to push yourself back onto her gave you a legit work out.

You held onto Ellie’s hands, forcing your body back down onto her. You could feel yourself inching closer and closer each thrust, each thrust also came more frustration on your part. The feeling of running after an orgasm but not being fit enough to reach it out made you wanna scream.

You hair was falling in front of your face as you leaned over to try to fuck yourself harder on the strap, trying to get at the best angle as well. You were just genuinely uncomfortable but so motivated to get off that you didn’t care that your body was hurting.

Ellie noticed the tension in your body, feeling your frustration as you desperately tried to get off. That’s when she stepped in, stopping you for a minute to lean you on the cabinet next to her. Only your chest on the cabinet, your elbows holding you up.

“Lemme take care of you hun...” she started, lining the strap back up. “Just sit back and look pretty for me okay.”

She took home on your hips once more and dove back into you, hitting an angle that you wanted to get too but couldn’t. She went at the same pace as before, rough and hard but taking small breaks in between to check if you were hurting.

You grabbed onto the counter with dear life, the cold counter against your flush skin making you shiver slightly. She was prominent and very skilled, feeling every single inch of the strap inside of you.

“Fuck... Ellie... I-“ you could feel yourself clamping around her, your walls fluttering and tensing up ready to release.

She knew you could last longer, your strangled groans and small cruises dropped hints to her. Her twisted a hand in your hair, something she knew you liked, pulling it slightly while you thrust your hips back to hers.

You lifted yourself off the counter now holding yourself up with your hands, holding yourself as steady as you possibly could for Ellie. You could feel it rip through your body. You jerked your body flush against Ellie’s, back all the way pressed against her chest.

Ellie snaked a hand to your boobs and the other drawing soft circles in your clit. You threw your head onto her shoulder, mouth shaped into an O shape as you came with a loud moan.

“Come on baby.... cum on my cock..” she whispered, thrusting her hips into you harshly.

You were seeing stars at this point, holding on to Ellie for dear life as she fucked you through your orgasm. Ellie kissed up your jaw, catching your lips into a kiss while slowing down her movement. Your body had stopped jerking only to be left legit shaking.

Ellie pulled the strap out of you, still holding you up with one hand. You were out of breath, shaking violently in her arms as she comforted you back into your body. She moved a hand through your hair, peppering your neck with kisses as you slowly came back to your body.

“Do you need anything?” She whispered, pressing a small kiss to the shell of your ear.

You turned around in her arms, bringing her into a kiss. Your hands immediately made their way into her hair, her hands absentmindedly went to your hips. It had got a cold in the house but you both were heated up.

“I’m okay Ellie, the baby's good, I’m not thirsty, I don’t need to sit...” you said, knowing exactly the same questions she would ask. It warmed your heart to see she cared but holy shit you were so wound up. “I was promised 3 orgasms.... so please just shut up and fuck me.”

That was so fucking hot to her, you taking what you wanted without a care in the world was something she couldn’t handle. She brought you into a sloppy kiss, holding your head in place as she walked you back into the counter.

She pressed you against the counter, leg up against your bare cunt that was so overstimulated right now but you somehow wanted more. She lifted one of your legs up around her waist and you helped do the other until you were fully seated on the counter.

Your legs dangled down, spread wide open so Ellie could place herself in between them comfortably. Her hands sat on your thighs, squeezing both of them softly. Your hands wrapped around her neck, bringing her so close to you.

This is what heaven would feel like if there was one, fucking on the counter of your dream farmhouse while pregnant with Ellie’s child (Figuratively). It’s what pure light and sweet dreams felt like wrapped in one.

You wrapped your legs around Ellie’s waist, hinting at wanting her to fuck you finally. Ellie lined it up with your cunt, running it up and down your slit a few times before pushing it all the way in.

You gasped at the feeling of being filled to the brim once more, throwing your head back onto the cabinet as Ellie thrust in and out of you at an animalistic pace.

Ellie watched as your back arched up, causing your boobs to bounce every single thrust. This view made her mouth water, you being fucked under candle light. She leaned down to attach her lip to one of your boobs.

You grabbed a fist full of her hair to keep her there for a moment, feeling pleasure from two sensitive areas of your body could send you flying off the edge once more. You let multiple moans out, one after the other.

The house was full of them, bouncing off every wall until they made it back to Ellie’s ears. Ellie went deeper, trying to hit that spot that made you see stars. Ellie watched as your eyebrows knitted together, head pointed up to the ceiling as your mouth formed an O once more.

You were once again so close, tired walls fluttering against the strap. Your overstimulated cunt burning at the sensation of another earth shattering orgasm. Ellie lifted her head up to coax you through it, leaving sloppy open mouth kisses on your fully exposed neck.

“Come on baby, cum on my cock one more time....” she encouraged you, speeding up once more. “I know you can do it, make that pretty little cunt cum all over my cock huh.”

Those dirty words, words that made your body tingle every time you heard them. You grabbed onto Ellie once again, squeezing her hand as the knot in your stomach finally snapped once again.

You could feel how your juices spilled all over the counter, probably making a big wet mess. Pleasure courses through your body, making you jerk violently. Your nails dug into Ellie roughly, most likely leaving bruises.

Ellie once again fucked you through your orgasm but slowed down slightly, kissing up your neck. Your entire body collapsed, no more strength to try to get down.

You could smell the burning of your soup, the awful smell wafting through the air. It had been a little over 20 minutes, probably more than 30 minutes even. It was slightly bright outside when you started but now it was pitch black, candles were the only thing lighting your way.

Ellie planted another kiss on your lips, caressing your belly to comfort you. You kissed back, just wanting to go to bed at this point.

“Well the soup is burnt... So what do you wanna do for dinner??” You asked, looking at how the soup smoked.

Ellie looked back as well, seeing as it was literally almost black. She chuckled a bit, turning back to you and shrugging.

“I mean we have left over cake from the baby shower.... can't let it go to waste.” She said, watching as you gave her a big grin.

“Hmmm... I think you sound much better than cake.” You joked, well it really wasn’t a joke. You just came 3 times and she at least deserved to get eaten out.

“I swear you got knocked up and now you're just a little horn dog.” Ellie rolled her eyes, slipping out of you before handing you your dress.

“Hey corn dogs kinda sounds good??” You joked, hopping down from the cabinet almost falling down on your way.

“You are too much.” She laughed, pulling you back into a quick kiss.

You wrapped your arms around her neck once more, smiling into the kiss as her hands roamed down you your ass giving it a quick squeeze.

"Well cake and burnt vegetables for dinner i guess." You sighed out, between kisses.

The only thing y'all will be eating tonight is each other at this point.

[technowoah]

THESEUS - a dsmp story ( DreamSMP x Queen!Reader)

CHAPTER FIVE : AND I REALIZE THREE FUNDAMENTAL TRUTHS AT THE EXACT SAME TIME.

Chapter Summary: You had gotten what you wanted, but at what cost? Nightmares ensue, and Dream’s true colors begin to show.

pairing: c!wilbur x queen!reader

an// IM BACK!! hopefully yall like this chaper cause this is the last one that I wrote in the past, Im writing chapter 6 rn so it might take a while. Also sorry for not posting requests I really wanted to get this chapter out there

⚠︎ swearing, dsmp spoliers(?), angst, arguing, smoking, explosions, gaslighting(?), not proofread.

Series Masterlist 

"Good job you two! This is all yours now.”

Dream had led you and Eret back to the castle, all of them still battered and bruised from the war they recently had. You had already taken off your armor and now you were wearing underneath your L'Manburg outfit that was torn and burnt showing some of your skin which was also burnt or cut. You had noticed on the way to the castle that Dream had kept on looking at the outfit that Eret and you had on with disgust, like a taunt.

You could finally relax in the huge castle that you apparently deserved because you and Eret had taken the first lives of the citizens of L'Manburg. In your heart you knew that L'Manburg was still a country. They all have two more lives and they will build the country up again with those two lives. You sighed then kept walking into the throne room. you looked at the two big thrones that sat next to each other. One for a king and one for a queen.

"Why are you standing there? Sit down! Relax!" Dream patted one of the thrones.

You and Eret had sat down on the thrones next to each other looking around the huge throne room and Dream smiling right in front of them. Once you both sat down you tried to sit up straight, but you wanted to slump down into the comfy, plush, velvet and gold chair. The two of them sat on velvet and gold thrones while in burnt and torn L'Manburg uniforms. It was a sight to see, and if someone didn't know the context of what just happened, this scene would've made sense to them.

"I'm happy you did this. You deserve all of this." Dream said while walking along the marble floor.

"It's beautiful, but I'm exhausted." You let your head fall to the side. You sighed wanting Dream to leave so you could finally get some rest.

"I bet."

"Eret are you okay?" You spoke up after Dream.

Eret had a look that you couldn't make out. He just stared off into space in his own mind. He shook his head after you called for him again.

"Yeah, yeah I am fine. I'm just thinking." Eret quickly responded.

"What are you thinking about?" Dream said in a monotone voice.

"If we did the right thing." Eret sighed.

You slowly nodded because you were thinking the exact same thing. They were traitors, you had built somewhat of a connection with those people you helped kill. And now what? you're living in a huge castle and apparently you "Shouldn't be feeling this way", Dream claimed.

"You two are overreacting. They are fine." Dream said bluntly while staring at them with a straight face.

That was a huge lie, their lives were taken today. They're not just “fine”.

"You two were never a part of that place anyways. This is your home! Why would you need to wear those hideous colors? They look bad on you, it's unflattering. There is no need to go back." Dream explained.

You hang your head not knowing what to say to the man, there wasn’t really anything to say but you spoke up hoping the words will come to you.

"I don't-"

"You don't have to say anything, it's okay. You're safe now. Did you get hurt?" Dream asked.

The bruises and scars said differently.

"Remember when I said that?" Dream pushed the question.

You rubbed a burn mark on your wrist and laughed a bit. "No! Actually I don't. We're safe now, but that doesn't mean we aren't hurt." You chuckled in disbelief.

"Well maybe if you listened to me you wouldn't be so anxious. If you listened you wouldn't have been so hesitant. You're safe." Dream said sternly.

"Maybe you're tired, Dream. We're all tired. Shall we go to bed?" Eret stood up and held out his hand to help you up from your seat.

You accepted his hand and started to follow Eret through the huge castle making your way through the huge, high ceiling halls. The three walked towards the king's and queen's room in the castle, Dream kept a slower pace and walked behind the two wanting to get one more word in before leaving the castle.

"If you two are ever in doubt just remember that you are on the right side of history." Dream said then turned around to leave the two alone.

You both stopped and turned around to see Dream’s back facing the both of you as he walked away. You and Eret eventually made it to your new bedrooms. There was a big door which held a huge room made for the both of them to sleep in and two separate rooms next to the bigger door which were made for one person. Eret and you stood in front of the bigger door staring at the intricate designs on the door not speaking to each other.

"So?" Eret laughed.

"So!" You exclaimed while chuckling.

"Are you okay sleeping in that huge room tonight?" Eret asked.

"I'm not totally comfortable with that, but it would be weird if we slept in the same bed. Don't get me wrong! You're a great friend, but-"

"Y/N/N stop! I'm okay with that too. I wasn't looking to sleep in the same bed. Yes we're married, but we're just staying friends, hey we might get a divorce later." Eret explained.

"If I do, we won't be king and queen anymore." You said softly to your husband.

"Is that what you want? To be "queen"?" Eret asked while putting air quotes around the word queen.

You paused for a moment then answered his question.

"I don't know where I'm supposed to be, Eret." You looked up at him sadly and he pulled you in for a hug. It took you everything you had to not cry into the L'Manburg uniform Eret was wearing. Today drained you mentally and physically, your hands were raw from shooting arrows, you had burn marks on your skin and your feet hurt from running through the kingdom. You weren’t sure about where you would go, because this didn't feel like your home.

"Let's go to bed and we'll talk in the morning. Rest on it because I'll happily divorce you so you can find your place in this huge kingdom." Eret laughed and let you out of his arms.

You chuckled and then let him go walking into what was supposed to be the queen's room and right next to it was the king's room which they both walked in after saying goodnight and closing their doors finally having time to themselves after a long day.

You finally took off the L'Manburg uniform and laid it on a velvet chair in the corner of the huge room. You stared at the uniform before going to the nearest closet and picking out something to wear for that night. The queen's room was basically the huge couple's room that you found before, but just with a smaller bed. There were still trinkets, jewelry and even clothes in the closet. you took a nightgown out of the closet and sat on the plush bed. You ended up laying down staring at the high ceiling thinking of the predicament Eret's question brought.

You finally retired for the night and crawled into bed and got under the soft covers. The window was open so a soft cool breeze was blowing through the room letting the curtains flow with the breeze. If you left you wouldn't have anywhere to go except back to L'Manburg, they would never let you back even if you tried. They probably hated your guts by now, so maybe divorcing wasn't a good idea. You had a set home here, you had food, clothes, and you weren't under attack every minute. you didn't have to watch your back for any enemies.

Your mind slowed down as you finally lulled yourself into a deep sleep forgetting the troubles in your mind for only a moment.

-------------------

The sunset fell over the horizon making it a gold, red color. It was beautiful. The trees were illuminated and the lakes had a certain glow to them. you could see mobs began to crawl out of the ground and caves, but you was safe up here.

You looked down and saw the familiar obsidian walls. It seemed like a faint memory, but in reality the walls were real. It was like you could feel the stone underneath your feet at this moment. you could see inside L'Manburg.

you saw Tubbo and Tommy laying in the grass talking to one another. you saw Fundy sleeping in the grass next to them. There were two new faces you had never seen before. It was a woman with short pink hair and another man with a shaved head. It might've been your mind putting people in your dreams to fill space. Then you saw Eret sitting by a small river letting his bare feet flow in the water. It was a peaceful scene.

"Beautiful sunset isn't it?" A voice showed up beside you.

It was Wilbur. He had his uniform on, it was clean like the war didn't even happen.

"It is really beautiful." You agreed watching the sun continue to lower over the trees.

"You know everything the sun touches is yours? It's all of ours. It just so happens that you can see the sunset and sunrise from L'Manburg. You can do anything as long as you see the sun rise and fall." Wilbur said, keeping his gaze soft at the sunset.

You hummed but stayed quiet admiring his words and the sunset.

"Let me tell you what I wish I'd known when I was young and dreamed of glory. You have no control who lives, who dies, who tells your story. After you took one of my lives away I understand now. You can't control other people and their motivations."

You hang your head in disappointment, but then Wilbur continued.

"But I know that we can win. I know that greatness lies in you, but remember from here on in that history has its eyes on you. History will forever have its eyes on you no matter what you do." Wilbur looked into your eyes as the sun set on the two of them the stars began to shine.

The light brown eyes Wilbur had turned darker because of the sunlight being gone. You looked out back at the mobs in the forest and the huge towers in the sky made the kingdoms members. you turned around and looked into L'Manburg. Or what was considered L'Manburg.

There was no one there anymore, instead of people there were huge amounts of TNT that filled the walls behind them. you could hear faint voices around them, people that you didn't know. It sounded like chaos. you whipped your head around to Wilbur who was dressed in a brown tattered trench coat, brown pants, and a white shirt instead of the L'Manburg uniform.

He had a cigarette in his mouth and matches in his hands. He smirked at you as the voices around you got louder and your head sounded like you were in the middle of a tornado. your head was buzzing as your eyes couldn't focus on Wilbur in front of you. It felt like these moments were happening right in front of your all at one time.

"You want to be a hero Tommy?"

"You know if I die, this country goes down with me."

"if respect is the only thing protecting you from a knife in the back, then respect is nothing, right?"

"Kill me, Phil. Phil, kill me, Phil kill me! Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now, kill me! Look-"

"You know Y/N" Wilbur started next to you. He lit a match and turned around to L'Manburg which was now filled with TNT.

"Somethings. Somethings were never meant to be." He threw the match into the huge pile of TNT and all in a second the obsidian underneath your feet disappeared as you fell into the explosion beneath you.

-------------------------

"Fuck! Where am I?!" You shot up from your sleeping position in a cold sweat.

You frantically felt around the bed trying to convince yourself that you were physically at the castle in your bed. You finally caught your breath and laid back down in your bed finding yourself staring at the ceiling again. Even with the window open blowing cool air into the room, your skin still felt hot. You ended up tossing the covers off of you and making your way towards the entrance of the kingdom to get some air.

That dream was so much stuff in it you couldn't comprehend all of it. It was like Wilbur was there as if he was talking to you directly and it wasn't a dream and it made you second guess yourself and think that it may have not been a dream. You finally made it outside and sat on one of the steps that led people up into the kingdom. you sighed and breathed in the fresh air and it immediately relaxed your body and mind. You were alive, you were here and sadly Wilbur wasn't there. You closed your eyes and felt the breeze around you until you were startled by a figure beside you.

"You're up late. I thought you said you were mentally tired." Dream chuckled sitting beside you.

"I had a bad dream." You sighed.

"Hey don't take my name in vain like that" Dream laughed trying to bring up your mood.

Dream sighed and stood back up when he didn't get a response from his companion.

"Come one, let's go. Let's get your mind off of the one bad dream." Dream held his hand out, gesturing to you to take it.

You took his hand and then released it letting him lead the way to wherever the wind may take them. The dream is currently still stuck in your head. The voices from different people confused you and made your head spin.

"You want to be a hero Tommy?" What did that mean? Was someone threatening Tommy? Will someone threaten Tommy? You grew to care for that kid.

Who said "If I die, this country goes down with me"? What country. L'Manburg?

"If respect is the only thing protecting you from a knife in the back, then respect is nothing, right?" That one stumped you the most. you didn't even know if this was being spoken to you or to someone else. All of them except for the Tommy one.

Were they all even dreams? The one that haunted your mind the most was the one where someone was telling a man named Phil to kill them. Were you there for that moment? Did Phil kill the person? Who was Phil? All these thoughts and questions plagued your mind so much that your feet mindlessly carried you wherever Dream led you to.

"Here we are." Dream led You on top of a hill, a tall enough hill to see the main attraction. The place you missed the most, L'Manburg.

Tears started to form in your eyes and you tried blinking them away. All the moments of that dream appeared in your brain, but even stronger. you never felt these emotions before. Maybe L'Manburg was your home all along. you missed seeing Tubbo, Tommy, Eret and Fundy doing their own thing while your and Wilbur had a deep talk inside the van. you had spent weeks with them growing too attached to them and then ended up becoming a traitor.

"That place. You never belonged there. You're too good for them." Dream started and you stayed quiet watching the stars begin to disappear.

"Do you trust me?" Dream asked.

You stayed quiet not having the answer he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear you say that you trusted him when in reality you couldn’t, you weren't fully there yet, not anymore. 

"They lied to you. It's not your home." Dream continued on letting you listen and not talk.

"How did you know if someone said it was my home or not?" You asked, startled.

"I might've been keeping an eye on you. I wanted to make sure my flower was okay." Dream kept his gaze on L'Manburg.

"Stop calling me that." You sighed.

"I never started. This was the first time I said that. Who called you flower?" Dream suddenly got serious, staring at you.

you kept your sights on the obsidian walls, not sparing him a glance. The stars began to fade and the sun peeked over the horizon. As they stayed longer the sun rose over the walls of L'Manburg. You started to remember the words in the dream you had.

"You know everything the sun touches is yours? It's all of ours. It just so happens that you can see the sunset and sunrise from L'Manburg. You can do anything as long as you see the sun rise and fall."

L'Manburg stands for independence. Independence. That word kept ringing through your head like a mantra until a few voices below the hill and near the walls alerted you.

"HEY! Hey Wilbur! Give me back my shit!" Tommy yelled as he stomped after the older man.

"Wilbur get Tommy to stop shouting and give him his swords back please!" Fundy yelled trailing behind the two.

"No not until he learns not to go start stabbing shit!" Wilbur yelled back at the other two.

You missed that. you missed the bickering and the nonsense they all shared. you were upset that Tommy still hadn't learned his lesson and you wished you were there beside them at that moment.

Dream spoke up giving you a look you couldn’t quite get. "You are never allowed to step inside those walls again.

"What gives you the right to tell me what and what not to do? Who does that make you? Who do you think-"

"YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO GO IN THOSE WALLS!" Dream yelled getting dangerously close to you.

You continued to stare at those blue eyes as the bright sun rose over the dark walls of L’Manburg. you didn't say anything but descended down the mountain alone with the sounds of Tommy, Fundy, and Wilbur bickering in the background, wishing you were there and not next to the man next to you who was staring at you angrily.

"I know what’s good for you! I know what's good for this country! Just trust me Y/N!" Dream yelled starting an argument

"Would you calm down! You came here to be all quiet and now you're yelling at me. You might want to be quiet before Wilbur hears you. Or do you want me to get him myself?" You yelled back, getting furious.

"Oh you wish! He doesn't care for you as much as me, Sapnap and George do! They agree as well!"

"Don't put words into his mouth!" You accused

"Oh! So if he cares so fucking much he would've help save you. And do you know what would happen if he saved you?! You would've died! I saved you! You were in a perfect situation and all you had to do is not complain! You're always overreacting." Dream ended with a huff and rolled his eyes while turning away..

you were speechless at this point. Overwhelming emotions consumed you. you couldn't believe you were overreacting. Maybe Wilbur wasn't everything you needed. you were overreacting, you were being selfish too. Dream was right. Dream walked over to you pulling you in a hug with L'Manburg was still in your sights.

"I did everything because I love you. You're too precious for them, you're not for them. They don't deserve you, you deserve someone who wants the best for you. A flower that needs a home and I'm here to give it to you." Dream softly explained.

Your eyes kept tearing up at the words and different emotions flowing through you. The sights on L'Manburg make your memories and questions come back. Where did you belong? But more importantly who was telling the truth?

Taglist: @hi-imuwu @k-l-a-w-s