#no never thought of that didja?

[atwas-meme-ing]

Chronophobia, as I understand it, is a cruel and crippling condition that causes one to obsess over the passage of time. It can lead to severe depression, and if coupled with a low sense of self-worth, can lead one to feel like they will never accomplish enough. The fear can cause one to swing violently between rushing around and trying to do everything at once, and throwing one's hands up and saying to heck with all of it. This condition can make it difficult or impossible to ever enjoy the moment, pushing a person to constantly check the clock and the calendar, causing a person to try to rush through things, and often keeping them from being able to enter that blissful "flow" state that allows most people to enjoy their activities, until they eventually just give up.

But... I guess... maybe there is a cure...

[burning-thistles-bt]

i wanna talk about the burning thistles reflamed au sooooo bad but i cant and its killing me

[yoditopascal]

Middle of the Night

"In the middle of the night, I'm wide awake, I crave your taste. All night long 'til morning comes. I'm getting what is mine, you gon' get yours"

a/n: inspired by the comic Red Hood and the Outlaws VOL.1 Dark Trinity, I just read it and couldn’t get this idea outta my head

warning: MINORS DNI 18+, phone sex, first time saying ‘i love you’, Jason Todd is a warning all of his own

Jason Todd who stays up late in his little makeshift “bat cave” doing research on the next crime lord he’s about to take down but tonight he can’t focus

He knows he should be neck deep in his work not have his head in the clouds but all he can think about is you. How your home all alone in bed without him, probably sleeping in one of his shirts or that night gown he likes-

“Get a grip” he says shaking his head to clear his thoughts

It almost works for a second… almost

The next thing he knows, amongst the cheap takeout containers, his phone is going off, it’s a text from you.

Speak of the Devil

‘You busy?’ it says

He looks at the time, it’s a little past 4am. Christ what were you still doing up, didn’t you have work in the morning?

Just as the thought bubble popped up as he started to text back his phone goes off again, this time you’re FaceTiming him.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” He answers the phone with a wince. That came out a little harsher than he meant it.

“Can’t sleep.” You mumbled a reply adjusting your bonnet.

“Didja try?” He asked with a raised brow knowing you probably didn’t

“Missed you too much” you fake pouted “aaaand I may have been out with some friends earlier”

“Aaah so this is a booty call” he teased with a smug look on his face. Your cheeks darkened with a blush

“Shut up it is not! I really missed you!”

“Suuuuure” he continued

“Ass” you chewed you bottom lip as you readjusted the camera so that you were sitting on your bed hands free crisscrossed. When you moved he got a peak of your panties underneath the shirt which he realized was his.

“So what time did you get home?” he asked as he tried to focus on the computer screen in front of him but found his gaze drifting back to you on his phone

“Oh like three hours ago, me and the gang just went out to a club” you said nonchalantly

“You take your knife with you?” he asked with a serious tone

“Yes Jay and I wasn’t alone.” you rolled your eyes before propping your chin on your fist.

“Doesn’t matter you know how shitty Gotham can-“

“I know I know but I’m not worried” you interrupted him with a small smile

“Oh? You’re not huh?” he asked raising his eyebrow propping his phone up on his desk so he could mimic you propping his head on his fist.

“Nah see my guy watches out for me.” you smile sheepishly as you began to play with the hem of the shirt that was a little too big on you

“Oh yeah? And who’s this guy? Anyone I know?”

“You might’ve heard of him, he goes by Red Hood.” You bat your eyelashes at him

“Yeah I’ve heard of him” he smirks leaning back in his chair.

“He’s a pretty big guy and he’s super strong and handsome and-“

“Yeah alright I get it, enough.” Jason rolled his eyes turning his gaze back to his computer screen.

“You never let me compliment you.” you pout

“Change the subject.” he warns turning his gaze back to you, the look in his eyes showing that he meant what he said.

“So what’re you wearing?” you ask outta the blue, tucking your bonnet behind your ear.

“Really?” Jason deadpans as he almost chokes on his drink

“Yeah really.” you laughed

“You can see what I’m wearing” he said gesturing to his outfit with a serious face but the look in his eyes told you that he was messing with you. He wanted to hear you say what you wanted from him but you'd be damned if you gave him that kinda satisfaction

“Don’t be an ass Jay.”

“Fiiiine… I’m wearing a t-shirt and jeans.”

“Ooo sexy whatchu got on underneath?” you wolf whistle cartoonishly as you wiggled you eyebrows at him. Jason snorted.

“Are we really doing this mama?”

“Get into yuh!” you sang into the phone

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing.” he said raising his brow at you suggestively

“Just one of your shirts. It smells like you.” you smile and show off what your wearing accidently flashing him your panties again

“Yeah? You miss me that much huh?”

“Always” you sigh longingly as you gaze at him lovingly. He started to do the same before he caught himself. He honestly didn't know what you saw in him to be looking at him like that all the time.

Fabric rustling on the other side of the phone broke him outta his thoughts and brought his attention back to you just as you began to pull at his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting more comfortable” you said as you pull off his shirt revealing your bare chest to him

“Fuck, you’re killing me.” he swallows thickly

“Let’s hope not.” you chuckle as the panties were the next thing to go

"God you're so pretty baby" Jason watched you as you spread you folds and began touching yourself.

"So are you." you sighed running you other hands up and down your chest teasing your hardening nipples as you went.

Jason groaned running a hand down his face as he watched, his voice was rough and you knew he wanted to be there with you. Looking back up at the phone you watched as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down a little letting his dick spring free from his boxers

“You’re so fucking pretty” you cooed biting your lip as you watch him take his shirt off, your fingers rubbing fast little circles around your clit. Jason rolled his eyes briefly

“Keep going and I’ll take care of you all you want when I get home.” He groans in your ear as he begins to stroke himself, already impossibly hard and sensitive after watching you. He knew he wasn’t going to last long and by the looks of it neither were you.

“You’re—fuck—doin’ so good for me. so good, baby.”

You watched as his hand moved up and down his dick, his thumb coming around occasionally to circle the bright red tip, his hips stuttering as he thought about your hands instead of his. How you’d praise him, and tell him how good he looked while you jerked him off.

You grip the pillows beneath you, needing something to ground yourself as the pleasure starts building.

“Fuck, Jay, I’m almost—”

“Look at me,” he groaned moving his hand a little faster as he watched your fingers move even quicker, before they disappeared inside of your tight hole, your palm taking up the reigns and rubbing against your clit applying just the right amount of pressure as you fingered yourself

“Need you inside of me so bad.” you cried out, he needed it too, listening to you was going to be the death of him. The sounds you were making were enough to send him over the edge alone.

“Cum with me” Jason growled, hips arching slightly off the chair he was sat at

You did as he said, closing your eyes and listening to him panting through the phone as your orgasms washed over you both.

No one said anything for a while, the only sound filling the room was heavy breathing as you both came down from your collective high.

A yawn escaped your lips before either of you had a chance to say anything

Jason chuckled “Sleepy finally?”

“A little but I can stay up a bit longer if you want” you yawned again as you adjusted your self in bed pulling the covers over you.

“Nah it’s ok I got some work to finish up here then I’ll be home soon” Jason said tucking himself in and buttoning his pants back up.

“Alright baby”

“Get some sleep princess.” He said going back to looking at his computer screens

“G’night love you.” your voice slurred

Jason froze before shooting his gaze back to you on the phone

“Did you just-“ his heart pounded in his chest louder than it had all night long, there was no way you just casually let it slipped that you loved him for the first time, nah he had to have misheard you.

Before he could ask if you were serious just now the sound of your soft snores greets his ears as he watched you doze off causing a smile to rest on his face

Love you too baby

[the-karma-cafe]

Thursdays | Arthur Morgan

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

in which the boys are curious where arthur runs off to every thursday night (ITS FOR SEX)

song is Moonshadow by Cat Stevens ! spoiler they be fucking :/ i be making them fuck for real (oh no aaaa no arthur dont have sex with me no aaa that would be terrible i would hate that)

Javier’s eyes track Arthur as he slinks away from the campfire, tuning out Sean’s boisterous storytelling. He knows the gunslinger is readying his horse to leave. He also knows he’ll be gone for a couple of hours, returning around one or two in the morning to slump into his bed after everyone has gone to sleep.

How does Javier know?

Surprisingly, Arthur is a creature of strict routine, and he does this song and dance every Thursday night—without fail. 

Javier furrows his brow, unable to quash his curiosity this time. What on Earth could he be going off to do so regularly? He never came back with meat, so he wasn’t hunting. He couldn’t be off robbing, because when he got back, he didn’t drop anything off at the contribution box. Oh, Javier, maybe he was planning to do so later on? Ah, ah, ah! What do we know about Arthur? Ever the routine-man, he donates to the camp box the second he enters camp, no matter what he just got back from. It’s always the first thing he does. Can’t be shoppin’, ‘cause it’s too late for that. Can’t be killin’, ‘cause he comes back clean. 

A cuff round his shoulder roused him from his thoughts. “Javier! Didja hear me?” Sean said, drink emboldening his speech (not that the Irishman needed much encouragement). 

Javier ignored him, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, Arthur was on his horse, trotting away from camp, everyone else none-the-wiser.

“Hullloooo??” Sean needled, pushing his side into Javier’s. 

Javier looked over to Lenny and Charles sitting across the campfire from them, and felt a spark of inspiration ignite within him. He leaned forward, beckoning them closer with his hand. They looked confused, but crossed the clearing anyway, kneeling in front of his and Sean’s log. 

“What is it?” Lenny prompted, his voice hushed. He could always trust Lenny to be discreet.

“Yeah!” Sean added, much louder. ...He could’ve guessed. 

He lowered his voice, smirking conspiratorially. “Where’d Arthur go?”

Sean and Lenny frowned, caught off-guard by the question, but Charles inclined his head in understanding. “I didn’t think anyone else noticed.”

“Noticed what??” Sean whined, leaning in closer to Charles. “Don’t be keepin’ secrets, now!”

Charles rolled his eyes, waving his hand to shush Sean. He nodded his head to Javier. “Arthur’s been leaving every Thursday night.”

Sean scrunched his nose. “So what? Art’ur leaves all the time!” Lenny nodded along.

Javier shook his head. “But Thursdays are different. He leaves around 10PM, comes back around 1AM. Why the same amount of time?”

Sean was quiet for a moment (if one could believe it), before jumping up from the log, his beer bottle sloshing in his hand. “Let’s go find out!!” he whispered loudly, grinning from ear to ear.

Javier couldn’t help but mirror his expression. He was hoping he wasn’t the only one this curious about it. He felt a thrum of excitement run through him. He pushed up from the log, Lenny readying to follow him.

“Guys,” Charles interrupted, stopping their walk to the horses. “Arthur’s entitled to his privacy. We should let him have this—whatever it is.” 

He should’ve expected this from ever-noble Charles. Sean began to argue, but Javier cut him off, knowing he wouldn’t win against Charles. “It’s probably nothing.” he retorted, trying not to feel guilty under the other man’s pointed stare. He turned away, making for the horses anyway. “I’m going. You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t miss this fer the world!” Sean laughed, immediately tagging along. Javier fought the triumphant grin pulling at his lips. He heard Lenny awkwardly shuffle behind them, some whispered apology to Charles.

He mounted his horse, waiting impatiently for Sean to struggle onto his own. His eyes searched the growth around the camp, hoping to find an indication of where Arthur ran off to. He could track, but Charles was the expert. It would make things much easier to have him with them…

The man in question’s voice came behind him. “I’m only tagging along to make sure you don’t ruin whatever Arthur has going on.” He turned to see Charles mounting Taima, disapproval marring his proud features. 

Javier grinned in spite of it. “Excellent! Vámonos!” he cheered, leading the search brigade with Charles by his side, the other man’s trained eye focused on the ground. Lenny followed behind them with Sean drunkenly pulling up the rear. Charles looked as though he wanted to stop him from coming, but seemed to decide against it, knowing the stubborn man wouldn’t listen to a word he said.

Charles followed Arthur’s trail down the left path from camp, past the trees, past the tracks, until they arrived in Valentine. Javier felt giddy. 

Charles stopped them in front of the saloon, hopping off his horse to hitch her, the rest of them quickly following suit.

“The saloon?” Sean whispered, creeping up the steps to peer through the building’s windows. Lenny followed behind him, and the two poked their noses over the ledge of the window, trying to sneak a glance within. Charles walked over to join them, and would have looked less suspicious if not for the two idiots in front of him crouched like children. 

Javier approached the window opposite them, casually leaning to the side of it to look in. Not that his subtlety helped him, as again, he was across from three grown men cartoonishly trying to peek inside as well. 

He spied a couple of men that looked like Arthur before finally seeing actual Arthur at the bar. He wasn’t hunched over it, like some of the other patrons were, and instead was looking around at the other people in the saloon, as if searching for someone. What could that be about? He wondered.

Before he could think on it further, Sean strolled into the saloon, Lenny in tow. Charles shared a knowing glance with him before following them in. 

Sean beelined for Arthur, and soon they all surrounded him, clapping him on the back.

“You’d go to the saloon without inviting yer favorite drinking buddy?” Sean accused, roughly pushing at the man’s shoulder. 

“My favorite drinking buddy, huh?” Arthur echoed, his voice not reflecting what Javier knew to be embarrassment on his face. Arthur slumped over the bar, tugging the front of his hat further over his face. 

Sean gasped. “Drinkin’ with me’s a treat! Ye should be so lucky!”

Javier nudged him from his other side. “We were wondering where you headed off to all the time. Had we known it was just the saloon we would not have bothered!” he laughed, waving the bartender over. He would buy him a drink to apologize.

“You too, Charles?” Arthur asked, sounding betrayed. 

Charles sighed, apologizing. “I was trying to get them to leave you alone, Arthur.” Javier couldn’t help but think the man didn’t put up too much of a fight. 

“Well,” Arthur cleared his throat. “‘F that’s all, you can all head on back to camp, I’ll be back soon.”

Sean scoffed. “Why d’you want to be rid of us so-”

A guitar strum floated over from the back of the saloon, and he trailed off. Arthur buried his head in his arms, the tips of his ears red. Javier cocked a brow, looking over.

“Miss me, y’all?” a pretty woman at the back of the room called out, guitar in hand. A couple of cheers and whoops came from the crowd, the saloon filled with noise.

The boys grinned knowingly. 

“Not. A goddamn. Word.” Arthur groaned, his voice muffled by his arms. 

Sean barked a laugh, clapping the man on the back. “Ohoho, ye rascal, we shoulda known ye’d try ta keep this beauty ta yerself!” He wolf-whistled towards the performer.

Javier grinned toothily, leaning in to tease Arthur. “You could have told us you were only leaving to see about a girl, Arthur.”

Arthur pushed up from his slump, nursing his whiskey miserably. “Like you would’ve let me hear the end of it.” He grumbled. Javier pushed his extra drink over to the man, giggling like a teenager. Arthur the Stoic, red-faced and shy about a singer. He never thought he’d see the day!

The woman, having finished her introductions while they teased Arthur, began to sing. Javier watched Arthur turn himself slightly to watch her.

Yes, I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Arthur couldn’t help the dreamy smile that twisted his mouth, watching her. She looked so content, fully in her element up there on Valentine’s tiny lifted stage. The piano man to her right had abandoned his duties to drink at the nearest table.

And if I ever lose my hands

Lose my plow, lose my land

Oh, if I ever lose my hands

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to work no more

Her southern accent colored the lyrics, guiding the notes up and down as she pleased. The patrons knew this song, and sang along with her every now and then, but none followed the exact way she sang it, allowing him to easily follow her voice amidst the noise.

And if I ever lose my eyes

If my colors all run dry

Yes, if I ever lose my eyes

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to cry no more

Sean stumbled into the fray, caught in some dance with a couple of other patrons, breaking his trance. Arthur dragged a hand over his face, hoping he didn’t look as foolish as he felt. 

Yes, I’m bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Most nights, he would allow himself to indulge in the fantasy. Convince himself she was singin’ for him, that when they locked eyes across the saloon, she had the same look in hers as he did. 

And if I ever lose my legs

I won't moan, and I won't beg

Oh, if I ever lose my legs

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to walk no more

He downed his drink and reached for Javier’s—anything to give him an excuse for the way he was lookin’ at her. Having them with him just dragged him back to reality: he was just another face in the crowd to her, and even if he did catch her eye, she would just think him old and sour-faced, and leave it at that. 

And if I ever lose my mouth

All my teeth, north and south

Yes, if I ever lose my mouth

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to talk no more

He took another deep drink, feeling that familiar haze begin to set in on the edge of his vision. 

Did it take long to find me?

I asked the faithful light

Oh, did it take long to find me?

And are you gonna stay the night?

This would be the last time he let himself come here on a Thursday night. He was just torturin’ himself, thinkin’ of things that would never be. Head in the clouds, like Micah would say. Christ, he was glad they didn’t think to bring him along.

I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

The drink crept into his heart. If this was his last night here, with her, he might as well fool himself one last time, the drink said. What’s the harm? One last time can’t hurt. It wheedled, and he knew he’d be miserable come morning.

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

He leaned to his right, seeking Javier’s weight to nudge him for another drink (least he could do for ruinin’ his fun), but felt only air. He frowned, glancing around for the others. Sean had dragged Lenny into his drunken dance, Javier was speaking with some well-endowed woman in the corner (who seemed very pleased to have his attention), and Charles… his frown deepened, squinting at the blurry crowd. He couldn’t see Charles. Knowing the women of Valentine, he was likely cornered somewhere, politely refusing their services (although for a man like Charles, perhaps it was free).

Arthur grunted, turning back to his empty glass. Figures that his friends would quickly find company at a place he frequented, and he was left miserable and alone. He plucked his hat off his head, raking his other hand through his hair. He was sure he looked a mess—no wonder he was by himself. 

“Hey, cowboy.” a voice came from his right, startling him from his wallowing. He turned, and felt his heart jump to see his singer leaning against the bar next to him. 

Her eyes were bright, her face flushed. She seemed out of breath from her performance, but pleased, satisfied with how she had done. 

He gaped like a fish. Say somethin’, goddammit!  

She smiled, shifting her eyes to his glass. She pointed at it lazily. “Be a doll and get me what you’re havin’?”

He nodded dumbly, gesturing wordlessly at the bartender. Seconds later, a replica of his drink sat in front of her. She thanked him and brought the glass to her lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, eyes trained on the way her lips parted, the amber liquid gliding into her mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

She set the glass back down, giving him a teasing smile. “You mute?”

He shook his head—then inwardly smacked himself for yet another wordless response. “No.” Christ, you can do better than that.

She giggled, and he thought he might die. “What a scintillating conversationalist you are, Mister…” she trailed off, tilting her head. 

“Morgan.” he provided. His mind caught up to the conversation fast enough to ask for her name in turn (he deserved a pat on the back for being so quick-witted). She gave it, and he almost sighed aloud. She had a name she introduced herself with to the crowds, but he suspected it was a stage name, and he had been correct. Her real name was a privilege to finally learn. 

He repeated it back to her, experimentally rolling it on his tongue. She grinned. “Sounds nice when you say it, Mr. Morgan.” 

“Arthur,” he corrected. “‘S just Arthur. For you.” He coughed, turning to order another drink, just to have something, anything , to distract him from the weight of her gaze on him. “I mean, if you want. Morgan’s fine too.”

“Arthur,” she purred. He felt faint. “I like that more.” His next drink arrived and he immediately buried his face in it, unable to meet her eyes. Christ, he was like a teenager. He inwardly scolded himself.

She carried on, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I see you here a lot, Arthur.” she gestured over her shoulder to the crowd. “First time I seen you bring friends, though.”

So she had seen him in the crowd all those times? He squashed the thought before it ruined him. He laughed, shaking his head. “Bastards invited themselves.” He chanced a glance at her, her attention on the crowd instead of him. He eyed her drink, already half-empty in her hand, before looking up, up, to the curve of her chest, the proud slope of her neck, the strands of hair falling loose from her updo, her lips, her nose, her eyes… he forced himself to look at the crowd instead. “Don’t you have some adorin’ fans to go talk to?”

She turned her head to look at him, but he kept his eyes focused ahead. “I thought I was already doin’ that.” she sidled closer to him, nudging her shoulder against his arm. Warmth radiated off of her. “Unless you’re not one of my adoring fans.”

Arthur felt heat creep up his neck and he shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she echoed, amusement coloring her voice. “I don’t think you’ve missed a single one of my performances, Arthur Morgan.” he felt a shiver run up his spine. “If anyone’s a fan, it’s you.”

He pulled the lip of his hat down over his eyes. “Maybe.” Guilty as charged.

She laughed, and rounded to his front. She flicked up the front of his hat, and his eyes met hers. He stilled, entranced. There seemed to be a glow about her, some hazy halo enveloping her body. How much had he had?  

“You won’t admit it?” What had they been talking about again? He tried not to focus on their difference in height, how easy it would be to scoop her up, his hands so large on her hips… 

“Well?” He flexed his hands, trying to reign himself in. Her face was expectant: eyebrows raised, pretty lips pursed. 

He shook his head. Couldn’t this woman see he couldn’t think straight? 

Apparently that counted as an answer and she scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes. “You embarrassed?”

Yes. Why did she think he was, again? He sighed. “I’m sorry, miss,” he tried her name again, wanting to say it over and over. “I believe I am too drunk for this conversation.”

She grinned in understanding. “Why don’t we talk someplace quieter, make things easier on your poor head, hm?” 

Someplace quieter? His mind echoed, while his body nodded dumbly, stumbling behind her. She took his hand in her own, leading him up the stairs. His eyes were trained intently on their hands, her hand small, warm, in his, her fingertips roughened from guitar strings. 

What was she doin’, touchin’ a man like him? He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, as much as he knew he should. It felt nice, to indulge. The hazy shroud around his vision encroached further inwards, tunneling his view.  

“Here,” she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear. She pushed open a door, leading him inside and shutting it behind them. It was suddenly much quieter. He breathed a sigh of relief, some tension leaving his set shoulders.

“Nicer up here, isn’t it?” she prompted, releasing his hand. He ached at the loss. He dragged his gaze up to watch her dance over to the… bed. He gulped, valiantly fighting off the thoughts that sprang up at the sight of her. 

“Mhm.” He didn’t know what to do with himself. He stood awkwardly where she had left him, staring dumbly at her. What the hell was she thinkin’, bringin’ a man like him up here, alone with her? She could get herself hurt, or worse. He frowned. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “I shouldn’ be up here with you.” He shook his head, forcing himself to look at the ground. “Ain’t right. You shouldn’ trust me.” his words slurred, but he hoped she was taking him seriously despite it. 

“Why not?”

He groaned. God, her voice. He buried his head in his hands. “I ain’t. A nice man, miss,” he spoke her name again, and god, hoped she couldn’t hear how he loved to say it.

He felt her hand on his arm. When had she gotten up? She was so warm. He lowered his hands, chancing a look into her eyes, hoping he was strong enough to resist their pull. 

Christ, of course he couldn’t. She looked up at him through her lashes, stepping closer, their bodies almost touching. He breathed in, unable to bring himself to look away this time. She smelled like the alcohol everything smelled like in the saloon, but a sweet undertone ran beneath it. He was reminded of the saccharine scent of canned peaches. 

Her hand smoothed down his arm to his hand, lacing their fingers together. Her other reached up, up, and palmed his cheek, her touch gentle like she was approaching some wild horse. He leaned into it before he could stop himself, his stubble scratching against her skin. 

“How ‘bout,” she started, her voice soft and quiet, “I decide that for myself?”

His eyelids felt heavy, and he felt himself forgetting what she was even responding to. His free hand began to move of its own accord, bumping into her thigh, smoothing up to her hip. He looked down. Just like he had imagined… 

She moved, and his gaze shifted to her face, slowly nearing his. His breath hitched. This was some sweet dream. He would awaken in his tent, frustrated and wanting, would take himself in his hand and relieve himself to the sight of her like this in his mind’s eye. He would wait until next Thursday and slink back to the bar, eager for more. Her lips touched his and he sighed into her mouth, whiskey on his breath. He would stay asleep forever, if he could, lips pushing against hers, nipping at her soft skin, tonguing past it. 

She parted from him, gently, as if to not scare him off. He breathed heavily, eyes lidded, vision tunneled onto her mouth. She started to speak, but he cut her off, pushing hungrily into her, cupping his hand around the back of her neck. He had waited so long, so long. He would take it, even if it wasn’t real. 

She gasped into his mouth and he almost moaned at the sensation. God, what a privilege to finally have her all to himself. To have her in front of him, touching him, kissing him, instead of with her crowd, Arthur by himself at the other end.

Her knees buckled, falling back onto the bed. He huffed, breaking from her. He thrust his hands beneath her thighs, hearing her squeak in surprise. “Easy, girl.” he muttered under his breath, picking her up and tossing her into the pillows at the head of the bed, following soon after. 

He climbed onto the bed above her, and stilled, looking down at her. Her hair had spilled out of its updo, hair piece having been discarded… at some point, perhaps before they had even entered the room? His memory felt hazy. She looked up at him through her lashes, her lips parted, chest heaving. His eyes softened. “Yer beautiful, miss,” he whispered her name. 

Her cheeks flushed prettily. “Thank you, Arthur.” she breathed. She tilted her head up slightly, her eyes slipping down to his lips. 

He reached out, taking a piece of her hair between his fingers, twisting it around. It was soft. Of course it was. It was devastating how perfect she was. “I liked your song, earlier.” he mumbled, focused on her hair. 

“I… I’m glad.” she whispered, her hand winding up his arm, to his neck, to his head, to take off his hat. She placed it down somewhere, and her hand soon wound its way into his hair, her short nails scraping at the back of his head. His eyes slipped closed, humming at the sensation. “I was hoping you would be here, tonight.”

He blinked open his eyes just enough to see her face. “What?” he asked, his voice gruff. 

She averted her gaze, blush deepening. “Been lookin’ forward to seein’ you at my performances.”

He scoffed. Now he knew this was a dream. “Uh huh.” He leaned in, burying his nose in her neck. “You don’t gotta lie t’me.” He turned, placing open-mouthed kisses along any skin he could find. Her breath hitched in his ear. 

“I-I’m not.” she insisted. He hummed, laving across a section of skin before taking it between his teeth, sucking slightly. She held her breath for a second, forcing out her next words. “I been… been dreadin’ the day you stop showin’ up,” she breathed out, “and I’d have missed my chance.” 

He parted from her, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. They were lidded, but earnest. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I counted at least ten other men better-lookin’ and closer in age t’you. Yer tellin’ me not one o’ them caught yer eye?” 

“‘S that really so hard to believe?” she palmed his cheek again, stroking it with her thumb. 

“Yes.” he laughed dryly, but leaned into her hand all the same. 

She brought up her other hand, cupping his face. “Look how sweet you are, baby.” she cooed, bringing his face closer to nuzzle her nose against his. “What a cutie-pie!” she teased.

His eyes softened, tracing the features of her face. He wished he could pause time, sketch her in his journal. He’d just have to memorize how she looked, and try his best to replicate it later. Once he woke up, of course. From this dream.

She connected their lips and he groaned, not expecting the sudden contact again. Her hands moved from his face to wrap around his neck and scratch at his shoulders. It felt like she was sucking him in, how truly he could not pull away. 

He rubbed his hand up her thigh, pushing up her long skirt. Her skin was smooth under his rough hand, moving up to grab at the soft flesh of her ass, squeezing and pulling her up towards him. She arched slightly, and he grabbed his other hand behind her waist to pull her closer, closer still. 

Her breasts brushed against his chest, her nipples stiffening through the thin fabric. He nudged her head to the side with his nose, moving to kiss down her neck. She sighed in his ear, her hands busying themselves with his arms and shoulders. Drink made him sloppy in his movements, his tongue wetting her neck and chest as he made his way down to her breasts. He didn’t bother to tug the fabric down, instead mouthing over her nipple through the fabric, flattening and swirling his tongue into the mound. 

She whimpered, her hand moving up to tug at the hair on the back of his head, her other moving down to tug her shirt down under her tits. He parted from her while she did so, unable to help the smirk twisting his mouth at her desperation. 

“You like that, doll?” he muttered, taking in the sight of her bare breasts, her shirt bunched up underneath them. 

She stuttered out a response, arching up towards his mouth. Seeing her like this sent a surge of confidence through him. She was his. No one else downstairs got to see her like this. Just him. Only him. He brushed his lips against her nipple, watching her try to push into his mouth. 

He smiled against her, and she whined, tugging his hair. “Don’t tease me, Arthur.” she breathed. Fuck. He took it into his mouth, his hand encircling the other, twisting and toying with it. He would give her anything she wanted if it meant she would say his name like that again. 

He dragged his mouth down, not missing the soft moan she gave at the loss, cool air ghosting over her wet nipple. He kissed down her stomach, moving his hands down underneath her thighs, pushing them up, up. 

He bunched her skirt around her, and pulled back. His eyebrows jumped up his forehead in surprise. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He looked up at her. 

Her face was reddened with embarrassment, her hands covering her cheeks. 

“Care to explain this?” he teased, running his hands down her thighs, closer, closer. 

She bit her lip. “I…” she looked away. 

He tilted his head, indicating he was waiting. 

“I… did say I was hopin’ to see you tonight, didn’t I?” she laughed breathily. 

His chest rumbled in approval, looking down at her exposed cunt, already wet without him touching it. “All this…” he drawled, glancing up at her, “for me?” 

She nodded, hiding slightly behind her hands. 

“Too kind to me, sweetheart,” he lowered himself, breathing her in. He kissed her thigh, feeling her twitch. “You shouldn’t have…” his breath ghosted between her legs, and she shuddered, anticipation building. He placed a few more open-mouthed kisses inside her thighs, feeling her arch into him, growing desperate. He took pity. 

Gripping her soft thighs in his hands, he licked one long stripe up her slit, gathering her wetness onto his tongue. She gasped, tightening her legs. He forced them open, holding them up. “Be good, princess, or I won’t be good to you.” he admonished, kissing her thigh. 

She shuddered. “Shit, yes, sorry yes, please, I’ll be good, please,” she breathed, trying to wiggle closer to his mouth. 

“Good girl,” he praised, flattening his tongue against her clit, lapping at it softly. She cursed, her hands fisting the bedding. He laved up her slit, once, twice, three times, before closing his lips around her bud, lightly sucking it in and swirling his tongue around it. 

“Fuck, Arthur,” she gasped, and he groaned against her, working his tongue inside of her, circling the entrance before pushing in, lapping up at her walls. He smoothed his hand up her thigh, reaching her clit with the rough pad of his thumb. He pressed gentle circles into it, his tongue spreading into her. She hissed, bucking into his ministrations. 

He pulled away, sliding his thumb down from her clit to her entrance, gently working his way inside. 

“Arthur…” she whined. 

“Yeah?” He teased, mimicking her tone, pushing his thick thumb further inside of her. 

She moaned, pushing herself onto him. “Arthur, please, I need more,” she breathed, meeting his gaze. “I need you .” 

He felt himself throb against his already-strained pants. He cursed under his breath, moving to unbuckle his pants. In his tunnel vision, he didn’t see her move from her position on the bed. 

Her hand came to rest over where his struggled with the buckle. “Let me, baby.” she cooed, moving his hands away. He blinked, letting her move him, watching her smaller hands undo his belt, working his pants down, taking him… oh. She took him out, palming his length. Shit, it looked bigger in her hand. Or maybe he hadn’t been this worked up in awhile. She ghosted her hand up and down, barely fluttering her thumb over the tip. His breath hitched, trying not to buck up into her hand, and failing, miserably. 

She grinned, looking up at him through her lashes. He reached out, stroking her cheek with his hand. “Hey, girl.” he breathed shakily, her hand jerking up suddenly. 

She giggled. “Hey, yourself, handsome.” 

He flushed, suddenly embarrassed to be on the other end. He looked away, only for a moment, before feeling a warm wetness engulf him. He gasped, whipping back to look down at her, half of his length having disappeared into her mouth. “Shit, darlin’,” he cursed, his accent dragging at the words. He bucked up into her lips, smoothing his thumb across her cheek. 

She hummed, the sound sending vibrations into him. “God, sweetheart, you’re bein’ so fuckin’ good to me right now,” he hissed, his hand reaching underneath to cup her jaw, squeezing it and guiding himself further in. 

She opened her mouth wider to take him. “Christ, you’re perfect,” he groaned, feeling her tongue slide up, her hand taking what her mouth couldn’t. 

She pulled off of him, kissing his tip, pumping her hand over the slick she had left. His breath shuddered. She smiled up at him. “You want more?” 

“God, yes.” he pushed her back onto the bed, muscling her onto her stomach, ass in the air. She squeaked in surprise, and he palmed her ass, squeezing it open to get a better look. God, she was practically dripping for him. He bit his lip, groaning. He rubbed himself up her slit, gathering the wetness there, rubbing it onto himself. “All this for me, darlin’?” he whispered, squeezing her hip. 

She wiggled herself back, trying to take him in. “Fuck, Arthur, it is, please, just fuck me already,” she whined, his tip sliding just past where she wanted him. 

“If the lady insists,” he teased, aligning himself with her, before softly, gently, pushing into her. 

She turned her face into the mattress, moaning, grabbing at the covers. “ Jesus, Arthur.” she groaned, her words muffled. 

He pressed in further. Halfway. “Can’t hear you, doll.” It was taking everything in him to go so slowly. 

She turned her head to the side, pushing back to take more of him in. He hissed, his hands twitching on her ass, squeezing her. 

He let out a breath, finally fully seated. He didn’t want to hurt her, he couldn’t. He gyrated against her, desperate for some kind of friction. A whine built in his throat. “Can-” 

Before he could ask, she forcefully pushed back into him, and he cursed, abandoning all hesitation and fucking into her. She cried out his name, arching against him. She was so tight and hot around him, her ass bouncing back against him with every thrust. It was all he could do to keep himself standing, his vision focused solely on where their bodies met. 

“Ar-thur,” she gasped, her breath shuddering, “God, God, you’re so big Arthur, Jesus Christ,” she moaned, her words starting to devolve into sounds with no meaning. 

He kept himself rooted deep within her, barely pulling out before slamming back in again, and again, and again. Her hands grasped for purchase anywhere, everywhere, on the bed, moaning noises that almost sounded like his name, pushing back into him with every thrust. 

Shit. Shit. He screwed his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure he could last much longer. 

“Miss,” he breathed her name. “I, shit, I-” he grabbed her thighs, his fingers bruising in their pressure, forcing her back into him. 

She whined at the pressure, growing limper. 

“Fuck! Fuck,” he yanked himself from her, grabbing at himself and finishing on her back. 

She had collapsed into the bed, giving a small satisfied moan. He breathed heavily, immediately grabbing a towel from the closet and cleaning her off. “S-Sorry, Miss.” he caught his breath, “Should’ve grabbed the towel before doin’ that on you.” He discarded the towel, placing a small kiss on her back, then immediately wondering if that was too much.

“What?” she said, muffled a bit by the covers. She turned, pushing herself up to sit and look at him. She frowned, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, cowboy.” Her frown twisted to a smile, “I oughta be thankin’ you for such a nice time.” she teased, pinching his cheek.

He suddenly grew bashful, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’ know about all that, but I definitely am thankin’ you.” Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, her lips slightly swollen… he had so many things to remember for his journal. “Best dream I’ve had in awhile,” he mumbled, moving to get under the covers. 

She joined him. “Dream?” she laughed, “You still drunk enough to think you’re dreamin’?”

He shrugged, opening his arms. She shifted into them, laying her head on his chest. “Could be stone cold sober and still think this was a dream.” He pecked her head. “I’ll miss you in the mornin’, girl.” 

She snorted, but snuggled into him anyway.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Arthur groaned, the light only hitting his closed eyes, but giving him a headache all the same. His back didn’t hold the ache it usually did, though, laying on this terrible cot. It was the small victories, he guessed.

He thought back to his dream last night, and sighed wistfully. What he would give to have that right now, his cock painfully hard this morning. He forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. 

A hand reached across his stomach, ghosting against his length. He jumped, looking over to his side. “Well, good morning to you, too.” she yawned, lightly playing with him, a teasing look in her eye. 

He blinked. He squinted.

He rubbed his eyes again.

“Holy shit.”

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Bonus

The woman placed the guitar against the wall, happily engaged in conversation with some of the patrons closest to her stage. “Excuse me,” Charles butted in, stealing her attention from them. 

She turned to him, confused, but polite. “Yes, sir?”

He smiled kindly. “I’m sorry, Miss, but could you do me a favor?”

“Depends on the favor, don’t it?” she laughed.

He nodded in understanding, and pointed to Arthur, hunched over the bar. “Do you see that miserable man over there?” She looked, and stiffened in recognition. “He has been coming to this saloon every Thursday night, just for you.” he turned to her. 

A blush painted her cheeks. “You’re kiddin’.” she laced her fingers together nervously. “He’s never said anything to me.”

Charles shook his head. “My friend—he is shy with women.” he leaned in conspiratorially, “Especially women he likes.” The woman’s blush deepened, her gaze darting over to Arthur. He straightened up. “All I ask is that you talk to him. I’m afraid my friends and I have ruined his Thursday, and I’m sure that would cheer him up.”

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing. He could tell why Arthur was so taken with her. “He sounds sweet,” she spoke softly. “I would love to.” 

He thanked her, watching her make true on her word and walk over to Arthur. Charles noted his reddened ears and fumbling fingers and smiled. Hopefully, this would make up for it.

[mangostarjam]

no promises — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x reader, use of foods as nicknames, best friends to lovers (finally), biting, 2.3k words

this is part four of best friend privileges; you can find the rest here

"Soshiro-kun…"

"Yes, pumpkin?" Hoshina Soshiro takes a sip of his coffee and leans back in his seat. The thick ceramic cup clinks against the saucer and you copy him, taking a sip of your iced caramel macchiato to steel your nerves.

It's been a normal coffee shop day. Soshiro always sets aside one of his rare days off to spend it with you out in the world, away from the base, so the two of you can freely talk about the books you've been swapping back and forth. These days are easily some of your favorites — away from the base, Soshiro is more relaxed, more boyish and loose. Even though you spend a lot of time together while on base, it never gets boring to be with him.

"Soshiro-kun," you take a deep breath. "Why haven't you kissed me yet?"

Soshiro raises an eyebrow and hums, tilting his head up to watch the clouds drifting overhead for a moment. "Well, apricot, if I kissed ya, I don't think I'd be able to stop there."

The blush that heats your body feels like a crashing wave. You knock your book over as you try to recover from the shock and he laughs, loud and bright and clear in the morning air. "Soshiro-kun!"

"What's up, beansprout?"

"You— I thought— !"

"Thought what?" Soshiro leans over to pick up your book. You watch with wide eyes as he dusts it off, wondering why seeing him in casual clothes is making your heartbeat stumble so much in your chest. He isn't wearing anything out of the ordinary — black slim fit pants and a white turtleneck sweater that hugs his pecs and shoulders distractingly, along with a blazer that only emphasizes the way his waist tapers — but maybe you're too used to his Defense Force uniform…?

Soshiro sets your book back on the wooden patio table and snickers. "Didja think I was holdin' back for fun?"

"N-no! I was just… wondering…"

"Hm?" He tilts his head and his bangs fall to the side a bit and your heart does something alarming. Is this what being in love does? Why is he so cute? "Tell me, plum tart."

You fidget in your seat as you try to organize your thoughts. Soshiro sips at his coffee patiently, but his gaze is unwavering on your every expression and he's making you nervous. Finally you reach over and take his hand. Red instantly burns along the tops of his ears, but you squeeze his calloused fingers. "Soshiro-kun, are we still gonna be best friends? Even though we're dating now?"

Soshiro releases a breath in a whoosh and covers his face with his free hand, peeking at you between his fingers. "Of course we're still best friends." He says your name and squeezes your hand back. "We're just gonna expand the definition of best friend privileges, that's all. Just between us."

His voice is shaky, and something about that makes warmth bloom in your chest. You nod. "Good."

"Good?" You watch his shoulders bunch as he takes a hurried deep breath. He drops his hand from his face and smirks at you, flipping the hand holding yours so that he can intertwine your fingers together. Your palm presses against his at the motion and you can't help the giddy smile spreading across your face. "Don't worry, honey bun, I'll give ya all the kisses ya want later."

You glance around. The patio outside the coffee shop is empty, though you can see the baristas and patrons inside through the café windows. Nobody is paying the two of you any mind, far too used to seeing you laughing and teasing each other from the many times you've frequented this café.

Soshiro catches your look and shoots you a lopsided smile. "We're not havin' our first kiss in public. Perv."

You frown. "But if it's in public, you'll control yourself better, right?"

"No promises," Soshiro laughs. "I've been waitin' for a long time, y'know? You can wait a lil' longer."

"Fine," you sigh. "Okay, so tell me what you thought about this book. You've been so busy with missions and training lately."

"Aw, didja miss me?" he teases. You snort and he laughs, but he listens to your request and begins talking about the books you've swapped recently.

It's easy talking to Soshiro, as always. The morning passes in pleasant comfort — except for the little zings of warmth and adrenaline shooting through you every time you catch his smile softening. Every time he suddenly averts his gaze as you play with his fingers, tracing the bones and callouses of his hand as he stumbles through his words.

"C'mon, strawberry," Soshiro murmurs, returning from dropping off your cups to the barista inside. He holds out his hand and you take it, a bubbly sort of happiness filling your chest.

You get to do things like this now — you get to touch him casually, intimately, learning the pressure of his hand squeezing yours and the way the tips of his ears turn cherry blossom pink whenever you reach for him.

Your next stop is one of your favorite bookstores, an independently owned little shop tucked away down an alley where the shopkeepers regularly write out little blurbs for their favorite recently read books. Soshiro tends to pick books based on his own secret criteria, but you like to see what the shopkeepers are recommending, and the two of you wander the aisles leisurely.

You're an aisle away when you spot an interesting title tucked up on a high shelf, and you stretch up on tiptoes futilely, fingertips just grazing the spine. You feel Soshiro behind you and he slides his hand along your hip before you can lose your balance, leaning into you as he reaches up for the book. "This one?"

"Y-yeah," you breathe, feeling warm. He's all dense muscle and solidity behind you, his fingers splaying around your waist with a surety that makes your knees wobbly. "Thanks, Soshiro-kun."

"Anytime," Soshiro murmurs. His grip on you tightens for just a moment and your heartbeat kicks — but then he takes a tiny step back. You turn to face him. "Wouldn't want ya to bring the whole shelf down."

You blink. "I almost had it." The pout is evident in your voice and Soshiro snickers, the sound low and fond in the quiet peace of the bookstore. You catch yourself staring at him in the golden sunlight, taking in the sweep of his cheekbone and the cut of his jaw as his gaze slowly turns sharp. Time melts and simmers around you. A shiver runs up your spine and you take a tiny step away, the hard wood of the shelves bumping into your back as his look settles into something focused and intent.

Soshiro would never hurt you — you know that — but right now… right now his look sends something instinctual scrambling through your mind, as if he's activated your fight or flight response with the careful way he's eyeing your every movement. You've fought and sparred with him before, but you're in a bookstore, so why does it feel like you're going to get snapped up?

"Sure, chestnut." Your eyes widen as he leans forward, but he bypasses your lips and you freeze as he grazes the edge of your jaw. "Ya look real cute, y'know?"

"Wh-what're you doing?"

Soshiro hums, pressing his lips firmly to the side of your neck. You've tilted your head subconsciously, granting him access as he sends heat and lightning zipping through your bloodstream. "Didn't ya want kisses?"

"This is not…"

He bites you lightly, just a short press of his teeth against your skin and a careful nip with the soothing swipe of his tongue, but it's enough to make you gasp. "Sorry," he mutters, "I toldja I've been holdin' back."

You can feel his breaths against your skin as he noses along your hairline tenderly. There's an ache in your body that matches tempo with your heartbeat and your hands have come up to clench the lapels of his blazer without you noticing. "I thought you said… not in public?"

Soshiro pulls away slowly and reaches up to drag his fingers along your jaw. Something in him lightens as he takes in your expression and the heat beneath his fingers. "Yeah," he grins, shattering the tension abruptly. "My bad. I'm gonna go buy our books. Gimme a minute. Meet ya in the front?"

He walks away before you can form a coherent thought, leaving you pressed back against the shelving for support as you wait for your shaky knees to recover. Your skin feels sensitive and tender, even though he didn't bite you very hard. You press your finger against the spot and wince as your pulse pounds beneath your touch.

Soshiro is standing in front of the shop when you finally make it outside, a small bag filled with your chosen books hanging loosely from his fingers. He shoots you a wide smile. "Ready to head back, egg tart?"

"You're bad for my health," you frown. Soshiro laughs, taking your hand and tugging you along. "I'm serious! I don't think my heart can take this."

"I'll take responsibility," he says, squeezing your hand. The back of his neck is pink and it's so cute and endearing you nearly tumble forward when he tugs you to a stop. "Here we are."

You blink and look around. He's led the two of you down a different path than the usual route you'd take back to the base. The gentle burble of the river rushing by fills your ears as you take in the sight — you're facing the river, tucked off the main pathway and roads in a little grove of trees rustling in the breeze. There's a bench, and Soshiro goes over to set the bag of books on the seat before he comes back to you and pulls you forward.

"Ya like it?"

"It's beautiful," you sigh. "When did you find this place?"

"I took a wrong turn on one of my morning runs," Soshiro says, "and I thought ya might like it here. Nobody ever really notices it 'cause it's so tucked away."

His hand tightens around yours and you blink. He's standing so close you can feel his body radiating warmth. "Soshiro-kun?"

"Yeah, vanilla bean?"

"Is it 'later' now?"

Soshiro laughs lightly, but there's a tense note to it and you reach up to cup his face in your hands, thumbs sweeping along the pink that rises on his cheeks. "I do really wanna kiss ya now."

"You can kiss me." You pause as he settles his hands on your hips. "I'll stop if we're going too far."

"Ya bruise real easy, hm?" Soshiro ducks his head and kisses the spot he bit earlier. The touch is featherlight and your heartbeat flutters. "I'll be careful."

He keeps his promise, brushing his lips against yours in the briefest of kisses, the soft careful press just a heartbeat long. Your hands clench his shoulders as he pulls back slightly to check your reaction. "Soshiro…"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me again?"

You can feel him smiling into your second kiss, the curve of his lips mimicking yours as you lean up into his body, following his lead as he tilts his head to kiss you a little deeper. The rest of the world fades away as you melt into him, the hot heavy grip of his hands on your waist and his lips moving against yours silencing all the rioting thoughts in your head. Kissing Soshiro feels — it feels good and right and you never want to stop.

Soshiro tugs your lip between his teeth and slides his tongue in when you gasp, only to break the kiss with a laugh as your knees buckle. He catches you easily against him, holding you up by the waist with strong arms. "I thought you were gonna stop me?"

"I told you, you're bad for my health," you grumble breathlessly. "I can't concentrate when you're kissing me like that."

He leans forward to kiss you again, swallowing down your startled moan. Soshiro pulls back quickly, red eyes taking in your flustered expression as if he's trying to memorize the sight. His own face is bright pink. "That's dangerous, pudding cup."

"Wh-what?" You blink, trying to recalibrate as heat sears through you. "What was that?"

"That was somethin' that'll haunt my nights forever," Soshiro says lightly. His grip on your waist hasn't loosened one bit. "Can I kiss ya again?"

"You're going to give me a heart attack."

Soshiro laughs, bright and fond and quiet in your little pocket of space. His hand comes up to press against the tender bruise forming on your neck.

"I promise I'll behave," he says, but there's a hitch to his breath when your lashes flutter shut at his touch. "But then again, maybe not."

You laugh and tilt your head to kiss him, sweet and careful and soft. Soshiro groans when you swipe your tongue along his lips, parting them easily and allowing you to clumsily trace his teeth with your tongue. Your breaths come short and quick, a steady ache intensifying beneath your skin as he huffs and breaks the kiss to suck harshly at the sensitive spot by your ear. A soft noise escapes your lips.

Soshiro pulls away and presses his forehead against yours. You blink up at him dazedly. "You're dangerous," he murmurs.

"You're really hot," you sigh. Soshiro's flushed face burns even pinker. "I can't believe I get to do this."

"Just wait," Soshiro says, his lips twitching into a grin, "and I'll show ya all the things I wanna do with you."

"I think you should get recertified in first aid."

He laughs. "My certification hasn't even expired yet!"

"Then you should take responsibility for my poor fragile heart and kiss me again."

"Sure thing, apricot," Soshiro brushes his nose against yours. You can feel his lips move as he whispers. "But make sure ya stop me from misbehavin'."

You smile into the kiss. "No promises."

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Puppy Love 2: Fanfiction

Cherri: Hey, Fuckheads! (Waves her phone in the air) Didja see that someone's been writing cringy fanfiction about the hotel and its occupants?!

Angel: What?! No way! Send us a link to the page! I gotta see this!

Cherri: (puts the user link in the Hazbin group chat)

Angel: Whoa-ho-hoa! What's with some of these ships?! NifftyDust?! Who pairs me with Niffty?! They also got me with Pen's Egg Bois!

Niffty: Awwww, I was hoping it would be with that bad boy at the club! Oh! I'm in a polyship with the Vees!

Cherri: Ha! StaticRadio is another big one for this writer. Never would have thought Vox and Alastor would be a mutual pining.

Alastor: (glitches out) What did you say???? (Peers over Cherri's shoulder) Oh, Zestial and Carmine are a ship, and they also put me with Rosie. That's not so bad.

Cherri: (reading one of the three Explicit rated works) Even if Rosie is pegging you with her ex-husband's dick?

Alastor: (Wendigo screeches echo through the hotel)

Husker: Why am I the hotel slut????? This guy's got me paired with literally everyone in the hotel!!!

Charlie: ......Everyone?

Husker: Even you, Princess. (Slams a bottle of Everclear) I need to forget I ever read this.

Lucifer: WHO PAIRED ME WITH SERA?!?!?!?! Who the Unholy Hell is Carmilla Carmine?! I'm paired with her, too!!!

Cherri: Awwwww~ I'm mostly paired up with Pentious..... okay, there's one for Angel. (Shrugs) Eh... Not the worst, but still not my thing.

Charlie: They can't be that bad, right? (Checks the page) I'M PAIRED WITH LUTE AND EVE?!?!?!?!?!?! (Scrolls feverishly) I DON'T HAVE A SINGLE WORK WITH VAGGIE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Hazbins: (pause)

Angel: Wait a minute.... (scans through the ships) There ain't a single one of us paired with Vags.

Charlie: (plasters her face to Angel's) Who IS she paired with???

Angel: Some bitch named Emily? (Scrolls) Looks like about half of these fics are Vaggie and Emily.... With one rated E fic, too..... (Taps random fic) "Emily knew this could only end badly, but the way the fallen angel stared at her with a smoldering eye made her go weak at the knees. The two reached out and..." What the fuck??? (squints) "Passionately held hands"???

Charlie: (eyes bleed red as she scrolls up to the Author Name) Who's writing these?

Vaggie: (finally bothering to open the link and reads the page username) "Em-Emmie-E"

Charlie: (eye twitches, and she roars so loud that all of Pride can hear) EMILY!!!!!!!

-Meanwhile: In Heaven-

Emily: (watching Hell like it's the latest episode of Days of Our Lives and taking notes)

EMILY!!!!!!

Emily: (fumbles her notebook) Oh, peach crumble!

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Over-Under: SparringInstructor!Toji x Reader

cw: porn with feelings, love confessions, smut // wc: 2,805 // [ao3]

You gritted your teeth as the wind was knocked out of you again, landing flat on your back on the mat. “Aren’t I supposed to be learning something here?”

Toji grinned down at you. “You are, doll. You’re learning how to fall.”

You pushed yourself to a crouch and swept out a leg, trying to knock him off balance. He side-stepped you easily, the cocky grin never leaving his face. “Quit telegraphing your moves. I can tell what you’re going to do just from your eyes.”

“You piss me off, Fushiguro.”

“Then act like it, pretty thing.”

You lunged forward, driving your fist toward his stomach in what you hoped would be a devastating blow. He took the hit and let the momentum carry you both back, forcing you to stumble forward against his broad chest. He slid his arms around your waist, dropping his lips to your ear. 

“If you wanted me to hold you that bad, you could’ve just asked.”

You shoved away from him. “Some fucking trainer.” 

He laughed, holding both hands up in mock surrender. “So feisty. That’s about the only thing you have going for you right now.” 

“I’ll show you feisty, asshole.” You launched yourself at him again, this time ducking under his lazy jab and landing a hook to his ribs that knocked the air out of his lungs. Approval flashed across his face as he bent double to suck in a breath. 

“There ya go, doll. Keep thinkin’ about how much you hate me,” he teased, returning to a fighting stance and beckoning you closer. “Or didja just get lucky?”

You brought your gloves up to your temples and rushed him again, letting anger carry you more than technique. He bobbed and weaved around your swings, surprisingly agile for a man of his bulk. He expertly maneuvered you into a corner. It wasn’t until your back hit a wall that you realized you were caged in.

He braced his hands on the wall above your head, leaning down into your space. “Good try, doll. You’re gettin’ better.” This close, you could see sweat beading on the tips of his choppy black bangs. You hated how much you liked the look of him like this, his tight black top soaked through and throwing every ridge and ripple of muscle into sharp relief. 

Toji followed your line of sight, a smirk spreading over his lips. “Like what you see?” Your scoff of denial was entirely unconvincing, and he knew it. “I don’t blame ya.” He flexed his biceps and gave you a stupid wink that made your stupid heart skip a beat.

“In your dreams.” You try to sound nonchalant, but your voice cracks. He’s so close. You can feel the heat coming off him, smell the exertion that somehow just makes you want more, makes you want to taste the salt-musk of him. You moved to duck under his arms and he brought them down to your shoulders, flattening his palms against the wall on either side of you. 

“Tapping out already, doll? There’s so much more I could show ya.” His voice is lower now, rough and promising. His gaze burned down your body, then dragged back up to your lips. “Maybe some things I could learn from you.” His smile is crooked, sharp, devastating. You want to suck at the faint scar that marks the corner of his mouth, but instead you laugh lightly.

“Like what?”

“Hmm, let me see.” He tilted his head at you, feigning thought. “Like how your lips taste.” He leaned closer. “What sounds you make when you come.” 

You trembled, pressing closer to the wall as if to ground yourself. You’d thought he’d at least beat around the bush a little longer, give you a chance to salvage your pride. You risked another glance down his body, this time taking in the sharp curve of his narrow waist and the expanse of his muscled thighs. Your breath hitched at the sight of the bulge that pressed against his joggers. 

“You see what you do to me?” Toji held your chin and gently tilted your head back up to face him. “But I bet you’re soaked through those cute little leggings, huh? I’ve seen how you look at me, doll. I wasn’t born yesterday.” He said it so casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it was. 

He snaked one big arm around your waist and pulled you to him, your body flush against his. His hold was firm, but gentle, and you couldn’t remember any of the techniques he’d been teaching you to break it. Your brain was completely empty, taken over by the distance between your lips and his mouth. 

“Go on, escape,” he whispered, his raspy voice shuddering through your chest. “Unless you don’t want to.”

You stood there dumbly, lips parted in a little “oh”. He bent and dragged his lips along your jaw, messy and demanding. You melted into the sensation, eyes closed in bliss as his nose slid along your cheekbone. His heavy breath puffed against your face, and you shuddered as you felt him smile, teeth sharp against soft skin.

“Seems like you don’t wanna escape, doll. Am I right? Is this lesson over?” A smug grin spread over his face as he continued kissing down your neck, lips hard and demanding over your racing pulse point. “Because it seems like I won.”

You reached up to drape your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and digging your nails into his shoulders. “You win, asshole,” you murmured into his chest, angling your head back in an invitation he eagerly accepted, hot kisses trailing down to your collarbones. 

“Mmm, but you’re gettin’ better,” he said, rough hands around your waist, shoving your tank top up. Toji dropped to his knees, his eager mouth now ravaging your stomach, your hips, up along your ribs and the swell of your tits. He moaned against your skin, the feeling sending sparks down your spine. You clutched at his hair, pressing him impossibly closer.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy,” he groaned, pulling away from you just long enough to tear his shirt over his head and toss it away. “Why dontcha see if you can pin me down?” 

You’d never back down from a challenge, especially not one given by the man who was currently kneeling at your feet, shirtless and glistening like a Greek god. You launched forward, aiming to tackle his shoulders and knock him off balance. The move worked perfectly, and in a few seconds you were panting on top of him, staring into his warm eyes as he huffed on his back on the mat. He looked proud of you, and it made you want to devour him. 

You sat up slowly, straddling his hips with a smirk of your own. “Gotcha, Fushiguro.”

“Yeah you do,” he breathed, almost reverent as he gazed up at you. “Damn good view, doll. Now that you have me, what are you gonna do with me?” 

The question made you throb, aching for him, and he knew it by the way you squirmed on his lap. The friction made his cock jump in response, and he sucked air through his teeth, big hands holding your hips still. “Careful,” he chided softly. 

“Why? We both know what comes next.” He laughed, effortlessly lifting you off of him and gently pushing you back on the mat. 

“Impatient for me, huh? You missed daddy’s cock that bad?”

“Shut up,” you whined, swiping at his stone abs above you with a weak shove. 

“Oh, I will, don’t worry.” He slid your leggings down your hips to  reveal your soaked panties. He nuzzled his nose against the wet spot and inhaled your scent. “Mmmm. Love my girl like this,” he sighed. You couldn’t help moaning at the pressure. You bucked your hips down on his face, chasing the friction desperately, and he laughed into your cunt. “I love that you love getting manhandled, kinky little thing.” He pulled away to smile wickedly. “Or is it just me that has you so messy? Would you still be this wet if I was all sweet and nice to ya?”

You mewled and reached down for his hair, trying to force him back down, but he easily evaded you to continue his teasing. “No, really. Would you be dripping on my tongue if all I did was give you sweet lil’ kisses? Maybe I should find out…” A faraway look crossed his face in the space of a heartbeat, too quick to question. He pulled your leggings up and settled himself over you again, making good on his threat with a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. His scarred hands were shockingly soft in your hair as he gently brushed it from your forehead so he could press another kiss there. He cupped your cheek in one calloused palm, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip as he looked into your wide eyes. “Look so beautiful spread out under me,” he rumbled, the praise foreign on a tongue more used to talking shit. 

“Thank you,” you answered hesitantly, feeling suddenly fragile. He huffed a laugh and ran his hand through his hair. He must’ve hit you harder than you thought, because you almost thought you could see a blush on his cheeks as he leaned back down to you.

“I’m no good at this kinda thing,” he mumbled into your neck. 

For a moment, you couldn’t believe you heard him right. It wasn’t until you felt his shuddered breath against your skin that you processed what you heard. You wrapped your arms around his back, holding him close to fight the sudden fear that he would run and deny it all. 

“Like what?” You asked, breaking the tense silence. 

“Lovin’ you,” came his breathless answer. You tangled your fingers in his hair to tug his head back, searching for any hint that he was lying, that this was another tease. All you saw was an aching vulnerability in his deep blue eyes, his lips tight-pressed to keep from trembling. 

“Toji, you- what are you saying?”

“You heard me, doll. Don’t make me say it again,” he pleaded.

All you could do in response was draw him into a kiss, your mouth silently forming all the words that caught in your throat. He moaned into your mouth, the sound sending a pang to your chest. You had never felt him like this, stripped of his bravado and dominance, broken open in your arms.

“Toji, oh, Toji,” you breathed, gasping between deep kisses. His tongue pressed against your lips and you let him in, shivering at the insistent swipe of him exploring your mouth. You had fucked dozens of times, on the sparring mat, in the locker room, in the back of his car- but this kiss felt like the first time you had ever touched him.

You pulled his hair harder, your back arched into his grasp. You could feel his heart pounding, an echo of your own dizzied beat. You fumbled blindly for his waistband and dragged it down without breaking the kiss. Toji growled as his cock sprang free, the tip flushed and pearled with precome.

“Baby, can I-” Before you could finish asking permission he pushed himself into your hand, past caring how needy it made him, beyond anything but assuaging the want that coursed through him. He was undone from the moment you kissed him, the moment you accepted his confession without being horrified or laughing in his face.

You wrapped your fingers around his cock, smearing it with precome as you pumped your fist along his shaft. He shuddered as you worked him, heavy-lidded eyes staring down at where you held him tight. You had just settled into a rhythm when he pushed you away to tear your leggings down, impatient with the tight fabric. You laughed and lifted your hips to help give him access, and he groaned at the sight of your arousal leaking down your thighs. 

He cradled your head in his hand as he lowered you back down on the mat, making sure you were comfortable before he grasped his cock and aligned it with your drooling cunt. His breath hitched as he felt your heat around his tip, and it took all his effort to keep from slamming to the hilt. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours, his voice betraying all his vulnerability and hope. 

“Do you still want this? Want- me? Knowing how I feel about you?”  

“I want you, Toji Fushiguro. More than anything.” You held his face in your hands, drinking in the look of awe that crept over it at your affirmation.

“Fuck doll. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that.” He rocked his hips forward as he captured your lips in an ardent kiss, the sweetness deepened by the feel of his thick length sliding against your fluttering walls. You wiggled your hips down to meet him, swallowing his moan. 

He set a rapid pace, the normal roughness of your couplings tempered with newfound passion as he kissed you harder, his hands adoring every inch of your exposed flesh. 

Your head fell back as he pounded into you, every stroke sending sparks down your spine. You wrapped your legs around him, your heels bouncing on his taut ass as he rutted deeper from the new angle. Every drag of his cock felt like it was stretching you wider, each twitch pressing his thick veins into your throbbing cunt. Your orgasm crept up your stomach, the pressure building as Toji messily kissed you in time with his thrusts.

“Toji, I- fuck, oh god, I…!” You squeezed your eyes shut, breath forced out of your lungs as he hiked your thighs to your shoulders.

“Yeah, baby? What do ya wanna say? I’m fuckin’ you dumb, huh? You feel so goddamn good, open those pretty eyes so I can see ya,” he babbled.

You opened your eyes, the words tumbling out of your parted lips with a rush of adoration and adrenaline. “I…I love you, Fushiguro!”

His hips stuttered. “Baby, you- fuck, you mean that?” He breathed hard, his eyes sparkling as they stared down at your flushed face. 

“Of course I do,” you cried, “I love you, I love you, love- you,” you kissed his face on each repetition of the phrase, salty skin against eager lips. A smile like the sun broke over Toji’s face, somehow both at odds with and perfectly fitting the brutal way he fucked you into the mat. He slammed wildly into you, his technique traded for intensity as he chased your frantic hips with his own. He gathered you effortlessly into his strong arms, holding you against his sweat-gilded chest. 

“Feel like I’m dreamin’, you’re too good for me, perfect lil’ doll,” he moaned.

“All yours,” you pant, curling into him, feeling his cock reach impossibly deep inside of you.

“Fuck, say that again,” he demanded.

“All yours, Toji, I’m all yours, all fuckin’ yours,” you said desperately, whole body thrumming with the need to come, to feel him come, to take everything he had to give. 

“You’re killin’ me,” he moaned, all rhythm abandoned as he buried himself into you, bouncing you on his muscular thighs like a toy. You rocked your hips against him as he bottomed out, the friction against your swollen clit rocketing you to your peak. You came with his name on your lips, your limp body held up by his cock and his corded forearms beneath your back. 

He followed you over the edge, his face twisted in ecstasy as he buried it in your neck, thick ropes of come poured deep into your womb. Some of it leaked out around his base, your juices mixing with his creamy seed as it ran down your trembling thighs. His grip didn’t weaken even as he softened inside of you. He held you even tighter, murmuring praise into your hair as his muscles relaxed. You stroked his cheek with a shaky hand, soft kisses along his sharp jaw.

A little of his old self showed in the smirk on his scarred lips. “You love me, huh? You really meant that?”

You rolled your eyes without any malice. “Yeah, I did. I do. Don’t make me regret admitting it, Fushiguro.”

He grinned and made a show of crossing his heart. “Wouldn’t dream of it, babydoll. Doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on ya in training, though…”

You shoved him lightly, as if his come wasn’t currently drying sticky between your legs. “Don’t you dare. I’ll win the next round.”

His smile was cocky and real and dazzling. “Sure ya will. I can’t wait.”

[thornybubbles]

Blood Red String of Fate (Yandere Risotto x Reader)

Scenario: The reader discovers that they are Risotto’s soulmate. Risotto is thrilled. The reader is not. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, canon typical violence, kidnapping, attempted self harm, forced relationship, and other “fun” stuff. 

You thought that it was just a story; an urban legend spread between lovesick teens and desperate young adults. You never believed for a moment that the whole “red string of fate” thing was true. Soulmates didn’t exist. Relationships didn’t come into being from a whim of chance. You didn’t believe in destiny or naive notions of love at first sight. But all of that changed the day you woke up and found the seemingly endless crimson colored string tied to your pointer finger. It wasn’t endless, of course. You knew that it was attached to the finger of your soulmate (something that you believed to be a fairy tale only a day before). It horrified you, not because you had an aversion to love or the idea of it. It was just that you believed that love should be something that is a mutual choice between two people. It should never be something that was forced onto people by fate. But that wasn’t what had you feeling like your stomach was doing cartwheels. You could actually sense the person on the other end of the string. You could feel their thoughts, emotions, and their very presence as if they were in the room with you. What you felt from them appalled you. You could feel their love for you and it almost had you returning the sentiment, but the warm feeling it gave you was overshadowed by the strong possessiveness that you felt, too. This person, whoever they were, genuinely thought that the string being attached to you meant that they owned you. Not only that, but you could feel an overwhelming blood lust and violence coming from them. Whoever your soulmate was, they were dangerous and the thought of being with them did not appeal to you. As far as you were concerned the two of you were not compatible, soulmate or not. You didn’t give a damn what fate or destiny had to say about it. 

-----------

Risotto stared at the red string tied to his finger. He didn’t know how to feel about it at first, but once he sensed you on the other end of the string, it stirred in him an uncontrollable obsession. He never asked to be attached to you, but now that he was, he wanted you. He couldn’t imagine life without you. It wasn’t enough to be bound to you, though. No. He needed you by his side. He had to find a way to bring you to him. It was strange, Risotto never imagined himself to bother with a significant other. He always felt that it would be too dangerous and an inconvenience to him as a member of Passione. Suddenly finding out that he had a soulmate was a bit bizarre. It didn’t matter. Now that he was connected to you, he could feel what kind of person you were. You were everything he needed, everything he desired. He found himself craving you the way a starving man craved food. He truly felt that if he didn’t bring you to him soon, then he would die. He had to have you here. NOW!

“Boss? Whatcha starin’ at your hand for? Didja get hurt?” 

The voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Formaggio looking at him with concern. 

The others couldn’t see the string. No one knew of the bond that he shared with you. It gave him an odd sense of comfort and made him feel even more connected with you. You were meant for each other. No one else could interfere. No one could break the bond that he had with you. The obsession that he felt for you grew even greater knowing that. 

“I’m fine.” Risotto answered his subordinate. He glanced at the string, following it with his eyes as it ran along the ground and out of the room. He could follow it and it would lead him right to you. He could find you easily. He could…

Risotto shot up from his chair and yanked his hand into the air, effectively pulling at the string. He could feel you just then. You were about to do something awful, but he managed to put a stop to it. He glared down at the string as if he was glaring at you. Why would you ever attempt something like that?!

“Boss?” Formaggio asked, giving his Capo a concerned look. “What was that about?” 

Risotto didn’t acknowledge him right away. He gave the string another pull. He wasn’t completely sure how the string worked or what he could do with it, but he quickly figured out he could send his very will through it somehow. He did that just then, to stop your foolishness. It was clear that he couldn’t put off meeting you any longer. 

“Get in contact with the others. Tell them that I’m going to pay someone a visit.” he said suddenly. 

“Huh? What?!” Formaggio cried in confusion. 

He watched as Risotto passed him by and left the room. Formaggio clambered up from the sofa and trailed after him. 

“Wait a minute!” he called. “You’re leaving now? Who’re you gonna visit? Is this a mission? Ain’tcha gonna tell me anything?” 

“This is a personal matter.” Risotto said, his tone implying that Formaggio should stop asking questions. “I won’t be gone long, but I have to leave immediately. Continue with business as normal until I get back.” 

“Wait!” Formaggio said, trying once more to reason with his Capo. “Shouldn’t you tell the others this yourself? Why do you have to run off in such a hurry?” 

Risotto turned his red gaze on his subordinate. 

“I trust you to let them know that I’m gone. Just tell them that I had an emergency that I needed to tend to. I’ll explain when I get back. I have to go now, Formaggio.” he said. 

And with that Risotto left the building. Formaggio stood staring at the door wondering what was going through his Capo’s mind. Risotto was a mysterious guy, but he was acting very strangely all of a sudden. He thought about it for a moment longer before throwing his hands up and turning away from the door. 

“Eh. Can’t be helped. Orders are orders. Guess I’ll let the others know.” 

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

You’d tried everything. You tried cutting the string with scissors, a knife, or any other sharp thing you could find. You even tried biting through it. Nothing would cut the string. There was only one alternative that you could think of for ridding yourself of the unwanted bond with your equally unwanted soulmate. If you couldn’t sever the string, then you would simply sever the finger that it was tied to. God, you didn’t want to do it, but what choice did you have? 

Every moment you spent bonded to your soulmate, you could feel more and more of what kind of person they were. They were a killer. They’d killed a lot of people and you could tell that they would kill a lot more. It would be just your rotten luck to be stuck with a murderer as a soulmate. You knew that they could sense you and you hated it. You didn’t want a killer knowing as much about you as you did about them. You wanted them gone from your life. So you would disconnect from them. With luck, once the deed was done, they would just think that you died or something and wouldn’t seek you out. 

You set some medical supplies to the side, to be ready to deal with your self inflicted injury. The plan was simple enough. You would cut off your finger, ridding yourself of the bond, then you would quickly patch up your injured hand, wrap and place your severed finger in a container full of ice you had set alongside the medical supplies, then call 911 and have them take you to the hospital where you could hopefully have your finger reattached. You had no idea how you would explain what happened to you. If you told them you cut off your finger to disconnect the bond with your soulmate, they’d have you committed. So you would have to think of something more normal to tell them. An accident cutting food maybe? 

Hesitantly, you paced your finger on the edge of the kitchen counter. You held the knife in your other hand. Suddenly a thought occurred to you. What if you didn’t cut it off in one chop? What if your strength wasn’t enough to cut through the bone? What if the knife wasn’t sharp enough?  What would you do then? You glanced at the knife. It seemed very sharp. Still, it would require some level of strength to cut through the bone. Oh God! What if you had to saw through the bone with another tool? The thought of the prolonged agony made you feel queasy. You could feel the color draining from your face and you swayed on your feet slightly. You shook your head. Determinazione! That’s what you needed now. You had to suck it up and deal with the pain. This was the only way you knew to deal with this. 

You raised the knife high over your finger. You took a few deep breaths and mentally hyped yourself to do what needed to be done. 

Don’t think about the pain. Don’t think about the blood. Think about being stuck bonded to a murderer. You thought to yourself. 

You let out a cry of resolution and raised the knife even higher. 

Suddenly there was a powerful yank on the string that pulled your hand away just as the knife came down on the counter. The blade sank into the countertop, leaving a notch in the Formica. Yeah, that blow definitely would have cut through the bone. Too bad something stopped you. You grabbed the knife by the handle and tried to pull it from the countertop. You managed to pull it free but the string was tugged again with much more force this time. The action caused you to lose your hold on the knife. It fell into the sink as you were yanked nearly to the ground. You fell to one knee in an attempt to regain your balance. You yanked your arm backwards only to find that it wouldn’t budge. The string was somehow pulled taut and you were practically being dragged across the floor. 

“STOP PULLING ON ME, ASSHOLE!!!” you shouted, anger in your voice disguising your terror. 

The pulling stopped and the string went slack again. They stopped you! Whoever was on the other end of the string knew that you planned to chop off your own finger to sever the bond with them. They didn’t want you to disconnect from them! Why? Did they really put value in the bond? Didn’t they know that you had no interest in them? Why would they bother? It was madness! 

Suddenly you could feel a strange sensation through the string. It was as if your soulmate’s presence felt stronger somehow. You couldn’t understand it, until you realized… they were getting closer to you! They were coming for you! Well you wouldn’t be there when they arrived. You jumped up from the kitchen floor and ran to your room. Quickly, you packed a few clothes and other essentials. You didn’t know where you would go, but you weren’t going to fall into their grasp no matter what!

---

Risotto stared down at the string on his finger as he sat in the back of a cab. He allowed himself a small, bitter smile. You were a fool. Did you really think that you could escape him? Apparently so, because he could sense you moving away from him. It was frustrating, but it didn’t matter. He would find a way to get to you before you got too far away. The problem was that you could sense how far away he was from you at all times. Did you really mean to stay on the run from him for as long as he tried to pursue you? What if there was a way that he could hide himself from you? An idea came to him. He asked the cab driver to drop him off at the next block. The driver did as told and drove away. Risotto looked around. He was standing outside of a vacant lot. It seemed that this was an abandoned part of the city. Good. He could experiment here with no one around to intrude. It was a long shot, but if he used Metallica’s ability to camouflage himself, he might be able to disguise his presence at his end of the string. Risotto activated his Stand’s secondary ability and waited. He could feel you on your end of the string. You stopped pulling away from him. He began to follow the string, half expecting you to start pulling away from him again. You never did. You were staying put. He followed the string until he was in a better part of town. Still, you didn’t move. It worked! As long as he stayed invisible, you couldn’t sense him! You were as good as his!

----

You had just driven into an unfamiliar part of town when you felt the presence at the other end of the string disappear. What happened? Did they die? Did they disconnect the bond? No, you could still see the string wrapped around your finger. Maybe they just stopped following you? You sighed. Thank the Lord. In the distance you spotted a sign for a hotel. You would stay there for the night and think about what you were going to do in the morning. You pulled into the hotel and walked into the office, dragging your bag along with you. You got yourself a room and collapsed on the bed there. You’d been running from your soul mate for days now. Why did they just stop following you? Did they give up? Did they realize that you weren’t interested in them? What was their game? You had only planned to stay at the hotel for the night, but decided to stay there until you felt that it was safe enough to return home. That was only if your soulmate didn’t decide to start following you again. 

That night, you dreamed of a man in a strange black costume resembling that of a jester, with white hair and red eyes with black scleras. You seemed to know each other, but you couldn’t remember from where. You were afraid of him, but you weren’t sure why. 

----

Risotto strolled into the parking lot of the hotel you were staying in. He was overwhelmed with joy at having tracked you down, but he would have to be careful from here on out. If you got so much as an inkling that he was nearby, you would start running again. He couldn’t allow that. Not when he was so close. He’d been walking for ages, sleeping in hotel rooms that he broke into and stealing food. If anyone got too nosey about his invisible activities, they met a swift and horrible end. He was exhausted having to travel on foot (an invisible man couldn’t flag down a taxi after all), but it was all worth it now that he finally tracked you down. 

He followed the string until it led under the door of a certain room. Your room. He grinned at the feeling of your presence on the other side of the door. You were sleeping, so he would have to be quiet. Using Metallica’s magnetism, Risotto unscrewed the screws around the doorknob to your room. He was thankful that the hotel was an older one that hadn’t yet converted to the use of keycards. The door knobs popped out of their sockets and clattered to the ground. Risotto froze, afraid the sound would wake you. He was relieved that he could still feel that you were asleep. Carefully, he opened the door and let himself in. 

He spied your sleeping form on the bed. He smiled fondly at you before coming out of his camouflaged state. There was no point in hiding from you anymore. Abruptly, you sat up in bed, gasping and sobbing. 

----

What a horrible dream. You’ve been having nightmares about the strange man with the scary eyes ever since you started staying at the hotel. The dream was always the same, the man would corner you somewhere, tell you that you knew each other, then try to drag you off somewhere you didn’t want to go. If you weren’t sure before, you were certain now, that man in your dreams was your soulmate. He had the same aura you felt at the other end of the string. The same aura of blood and death that you felt so strongly that it caused you to wake up in a panic… The same aura that you could still feel as if it were in the room with you at that very moment. 

You turned to face that overwhelming presence you could sense nearby and your blood ran cold. 

“You!” you gasped. “It’s you!” 

The man took a step towards you, smiling sweetly. You cringed away from him, pulling the bed covers up as if they could shield you from him. 

“How did you find me without me sensing you?” you demanded. 

“Not important,” he said in a deep voice that would have had your heart fluttering in any other situation. “What matters now is that we are finally together, as fate intended.” 

“To hell with fate and to hell with you! I want nothing to do with you! Now get out of my room before I call the police!” 

The man laughed at your poor attempt at bravado. 

“You can fight it all you want, but you and I will be together no matter what.” 

You jumped up from the bed and made an attempt to run out the door, but he stepped into your path and you ended up in his crushing embrace. 

“Let go of m-- mph!” your demands were silenced by one of his massive palms covering your mouth. 

You struggled in his hold but he was far stronger than you. You could barely move in his grip. Something sharp pierced your neck and you screamed into his hand. You struggled a moment more before dizziness overwhelmed you. Your limbs felt heavy and it became impossible to move them. Your vision grew blurry and you felt yourself going limp in his arms. Just before you passed out you heard him say, 

“You tried to hurt yourself all because you didn’t want to be bonded to me. I couldn’t allow that. I know that you don’t want me as your soulmate, but I know that you can learn to love me. I’ll take you somewhere where I can keep an eye on you and make sure that you never try to hurt yourself, or sever our bond again. Whether you want it or not, you and I were meant to be. You should know by now that you can’t fight fate.”

[milliesfishes]

I adore you both @francixoxoxo @lopsnpops 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓭𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓴𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭

Maybe it had been a mistake to bring you out to one of the wild parties the Regulators threw every fortnight or so, but Billy hardly regretted it now.

Under the winking stars you were as lovely as ever, hair unwoven from your rope of a braid, eyes sparkling as the lake did when the sun's rays hit it exactly right. He wound an arm loosely around your waist, simply enjoying the angelic sight of you. The colossal bonfire gave you a halo that only further encouraged your paradisical image.

You were literature to him, practically the Bible. A book he could pore over time and time again and find something new with every page. And indeed, he read your verses like a devoted saint.

As you accepted a drink from one of his men, saying something that made him laugh, Billy pressed a kiss to your hair. It was hard to forget how charming you were. How lovable his girl was in every sense of the term. You were a siren's song, a call he would answer every time. Your laugh was a sound tuned to his senses, an aphrodisiac he couldn't help but breathe in.

The night morphed into a cacophony of music and the laughter of men, smoke from the fire drifting through the camp and tickling the noses of everyone present. Women both hired and invited hung off the arms of Regulators, both feasting on the mystery of the night and allowing it to overcome them.

Billy hadn't noticed exactly how much whiskey you'd indulged in until he heard your ringing laughter echoing over the content buzz of the partygoers. Turning his head from a lulling conversation, he saw you across the fire, giggling delightedly at something of which he was unsure of the context.

He knew he should feel concerned at your drunken state, but truthfully, as he made his way over, grass crunching under his boots, all he could think about was how adorable you were.

"Havin' a good time, darlin'?" he teased good-naturedly, approaching you with a steady grin.

You turned around and saw who he was, face immediately splitting into a smile that seemed to glow in the dark. "Billy!" Throwing your arms around him, you buried your face in his neck. "BillyBillyBilly. I love you, did you know that?"

Chuckling, he indulged you, arms securing you against him. His name in your mouth was a hymn he wasn't sure he'd find in any chapel. Divinity was his best description of you, and its lack of earthly context made it all the more fitting. Even with alcohol on your breath, you were heaven sent.

"I'll never complain 'bout you remindin' me, baby," he said, kissing your nose gently. As he did, your eyes lit as something that struck him like lightning.

You stood on your tiptoes, bouncing up and down on your heels. "I love you!" Reaching up as high as you could, you pressed your lips to his cheek in a darling show of affection.

"How many whiskies didja have, pretty girl?" Billy tilted your chin up with his fingers, examining your eyes. "You're walkin' in wavy lines darlin'."

"Oh..." you furrowed your brow into an adorable crease as you thought. The amount of contemplation it was taking to recall it lifted the corners of his lips like a sunrise. "Three maybe?"

"You're a lightweight if there ever was one, sweetheart," he laughed, keeping his hold tight on your waist as you leaned back in his arms, head lulling so you could look at the moon. "Think it might be time to go home."

You frowned, pouting slightly in that way he couldn't help but adore. Billy was utterly helpless to finding anything you did endearing. He was up to his elbows holding you by your waist, knowing that if he let go you'd fall backwards. "But I still wanna talk to more people. And watch the stars. And get another drink-"

"Woah, woah, baby doll," he countered, shaking his head and breathing a laugh. "You ain't gettin' any more drinks. We're gonna go home so you can sleep this all off."

Lower lip pushing out, you shook your head. "But...but I wanna..." you let go of him and attempted to take a step, but your knees began to give out.

Swiftly, he caught you, hoisting you up by your waist and prompting you to wrap your legs around him. "Alright...c'mere angel baby, up y' go..." The surrounding party was too lost in the splendor of drink and company to pay you any mind. "You're trouble tonight, sweetheart."

He managed to balance you on his horse and get you home, skillfully opening the door with his foot while carrying you. You babbled sentences he couldn't determine the meaning of, but he still listened, nodding attentively. "Mhm. You're right my love."

Laying you down in bed, he attempted to detangle himself from you in order to find some water to quell the alcohol in your system. You frowned and tugged on his arm, shaking your head persistently. "No, don't leave."

"Just gettin' ya some water, honey," he tried, but you held fast.

The image of you this clingy and wanting for his mere presence was more valuable to him than any jewel he had thought so previously. Every single adjective for beautiful ran through his head as he looked at you, your hair spread over the pillow, dress hiked up to your thighs. He was lost in you for a moment.

Oh who was he kidding? Billy couldn't refuse you a single thing. He knelt and worked his boots off, stowing them beneath the bed and loosening the handkerchief around his neck. Untying it and folding it on the nightstand, Billy settled on the bed, tucking you under his arm and nuzzling his chin in your hair. He dropped his lips to your head, thumb rubbing your arm.

"You're a cute little drunk," he murmured, cuddling you close. He shifted to his side and threw one of his legs over yours. You buried your face in his chest, pressing kisses to him there.

"You know this'd be nicer if you took your shirt off," you muttered, and he hid a laugh in your hair.

"Mm, would it now, sweet girl?" He tried to respond seriously, his voice breaking just slightly.

"You just look so good without it." You looked up at him, appearing to be deep in thought once more. Then you said, "And without your pants."

Billy clenched his jaw to try and hide the laugh that nearly slipped out. "To be completely fair you look real pretty without your dress too."

"You're pretty all the time," you hummed, and he was enchanted all over again. Reaching a hand up, you smoothed his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. He let you, enjoying the feel of your hand like silk over his roughened skin. An outlaw's way, though he'd sand down his edges if you desired so.

Your sweetest quality was your pure love for him exactly how he was. He would change every bit of himself for the mere opportunity to love you. And yet to his luck he was allowed to do exactly that, heart and mind exactly as it was.

Billy looked down at you, dozing off with your head resting on your shoulder, a drunken sleep engulfing you. His angel.

In the morning when you awoke and complained of a headache, he'd be right there to draw the curtains and block the sunlight, to be your pillow and mattress.

He'd bring you water and snuggle himself against you until you were fully lucid again. The love for the woman in his arms wasn't dependent on being drunk or sober.

Watching you sleep, his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your cheek. You were sloppily spread across his chest, dress falling off your shoulder, makeup smeared under your eyes. He smiled at the sight of you. That was the woman he was going to marry.

Planting a series of kisses on your head, he smushed his cheek into you. Billy's eyes shut as the only emotion he'd ever felt holding you overcame him.

Adoration.

[bcolfanfic]

¹⁰⁾ a dingy truck stop after ten hours on the road

bucky x buck x josie road trip vibes

(-: had fun with this

/ / /

"Papa," Josie said, pushing her foot against the back of the passenger seat where John was sat. Gale looked in the rearview mirror, offering a gentle chiding for kicking the seat- his husband tilting his head back to look at her.

"Hm baby?"

"Why aren’t we goin’ to Wis-con-sin in an airplane?"

John hoped she never grew out of the way she sounded out long words. And shared her current sentiment.

He laughed lightly to himself, reaching across the console to massage the back of Gale’s neck. "That's a question for daddy to answer I think,"

"Because daddy is trying to save us some money."

John hummed- half because he found Gale’s playful indignant tone with him endearing, and half because he knew the real reason.

“She had a hard time on the plane last time, don’t wanna put her through that again.” He’d said across the kitchen table from him when they sat down to hash everything out.

And it wasn’t an off base assertion- their trip to New York six months ago had been somewhat of a disaster in regards to the travel aspect. He wasn’t exactly itching to relive it either- and dreaded seeing his daughter upset. But there was a flip side.

“So next time we go out east we’re gonna drive for two days?” John asked softly as he leaned back in his chair. “Gotta push her a little Gale, it’ll get better the more she does it.”

Gale chewed on his lip, digging the ball of his foot into the kitchen floor. “Only one day of drivin’ to get to Wisconsin.” He said after a minute, looking at something on his laptop. “And it’d be cheaper than three plane tickets.”

So John let him have this, under the agreement that he’d be quite a bit more hard pressed to road trip to New York.

Josie tossed the topic as quickly as she’d raised it, leaning forward to get as close to them as she could from her seat.

"Didja know I'm gonna be six soon?"

"I sure did,” Gale said, tapping his fingers on that steering wheel. “You makin' any big plans?"

"Mhm.” She replied, dropping back against her seat to look out the window. “Gonna go to coll-ege."

John didn’t know if he liked the sound of that so soon, and saw what looked like the same thought cross over Gale’s face. He chuckled, lifting his eyes towards her in the mirror.

"Already? What are you gonna study peanut?"

"Ummmm," Josie started, tilting her head. "Horses, and and rabbits, and birds,"

"You know Uncle Rosie knows a lot about birds, you should talk to him about that." John said, glancing back towards Gale- concerned when he noticed that he seemed deflated.

By the end of the hour the five-year-old had chatterboxed herself right to sleep, John reaching over to give Gale's thigh a little squeeze.

"You okay? We can switch off at the next rest stop,"

Gale didn’t say anything for a minute, taking a little breath in like he always did when he was trying not to cry.

"She's gonna go to college someday, gonna leave," He said, voice wobbly.

John moved his hand back to the nape of his neck, rubbing his thumb there in a circle.

”Well she's not goin' when she's six at least." He said lightly, his own emotions about the reality of what awaited them in about twelve years starting to coil in his throat.

Gale went quiet again, for so long that John moved his hand to reach forward and turn the radio back on.

Until Gale broke the silence.

"I want another one."

John stopped mid-motion, his eyes widening as he glanced at the small blue screen of the radio display. He leaned back slowly in his seat, feeling his husband's eyes on him.

"You do?"

Gale’s nod in affirmation answered that.

It wasn’t something John was opposed to- he’d had his own moments of thinking about it, and almost bringing it up to Gale himself.

There was just a piece to it all that he felt less certain about.

"You thinkin’ of doing it the same way as last time, or,” He started, and the way Gale’s eyes seemed to focus on the road ahead gave him a feeling as to where his answer was headed.

“I- y’ know, maybe I just,” He started. “We missed so much.”

And there it was- the same stipulation that kept John up at night if he let him.

On the one hand, embarrassingly, the thought of an infant- of being responsible for someone from scratch like that, terrified him.

But on the other, every little thing he realized they missed out on with Josie made his heart ache. Having about seven photos from the first four years of their daughter’s life just wasn’t how it was supposed to be- he thought on occasion.

Before he could find the words to respond to Gale they were pulling into a rest stop- and suddenly feeling suffocated in the car, John couldn't get out fast enough.

Opening the back door, he gently shook Josie's foot to rouse her from sleep. She groaned when she realized she was being woken up, moving away from him with a huff.

"I know sweetheart," He said softly, undoing her seatbelt and helping her down. "Go can right back to sleep in a minute."

The rest stop was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the fluorescents that were on their last leg overhead. When Josie had washed her hands and they were about to head back out, she stopped- sleepy head drooping against the back of John's legs.

Obliging to her wordless ask- he scooped her up, pausing for a moment to brush the hair out of her face.

He ran the back of his hand along her cheek, it hitting him suddenly that she looked closer to her sixth birthday than she had before. Looked less like the little baby faced four-year-old that became his daughter overnight- and more like a big kid in a way that made a lump form in his throat.

When he made it back to the car with her Gale wasn’t in the driver's seat anymore. He was standing outside it, phone to his face- looking pale.

John got Josie back into her car seat and shut the door before circling back around the front of the car to him.

"Thank you Natalie- okay, John's here, I'm gonna call you back."

Natalie, John thought, and froze. The only Natalie they knew was their social worker from Josie's adoption.

"Why's Natalie calling?" He blurted out the second Gale hung up.

Dragging a hand over his face and pushing it through his hair, Gale tried to steady his breath. But his bottom lip trembled, John feeling more nauseas with every second that it took him to start talking.

When he finally did talk, the words that left his mouth made him sick all the same.

"Josie's mom had another baby- another one she can't keep."

"What?"

The utterance flew out of his mouth before he could form a more coherent response, and he felt his own eyes widen.

They'd never had any contact with the woman since her rights had been terminated by the time they were in Josie's life. The last they'd been told, over a year ago now, was that she was facing child neglect charges.

Despite his efforts to focus, he struggled to fully comprehend Gale's words as he continued to talk.

"Natalie said she called us first because we have Josie. The baby came early, he’s got- she said he’s stable now but-”

"We're turnin' around, right?"John interjected, feeling like it wasn't even a question he needed to ask given the conversation they'd been having all of ten fucking minutes ago.

Gale paused like he was waiting for John to take it back.

But when he didn't, he nodded- pinching the bridge of his nose as he did. "Yeah- yeah of course we're turning around."

[poledancingdinos]

BFF Sy

Pairing: Young!Syverson & OFC (Gen fic)

Word Count: 1670 words

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @rosecentury @shellyshellshell

A/N: I haven't been able to write anything for a while so instead of making actual progress on a WIP, I spent way too many hours formatting this for AO3 to justify having only written dialogue. So if you want to get the full experience, I recommend checking it out here. Made a creator skin and everything.

Masterlist

You 12:47 A.M. : Desi’s new friends are EXACTLY like Chris’ friends used to be, it’s almost disturbing

Sy 12:53 A.M. : Ain’t that a good thing? I thought ya missed the metalheads after the breakup.

You 12:54 A.M. : I did. It’s just so out of character for Desi, you know? Her new BF is so different from others before

Sy 12:55 A.M. : But yeah, when me and L left your place I joked that it felt like Desi was sitting between you and your boyfriend rather than her sitting next to her own BF. So weird to see her with an emo kid instead of a suit.

You 12:56 A.M. : I’m headed home

You 12:57 A.M. : It’s about an hour

Sy 12:57 A.M. : RIP

Sy 12:58 A.M. : Didja take your sleep aids so you can just go to bed when you get home?

You 12:58 A.M. : Not yet

You 12:58 A.M. : Don’t want to risk having a dizzy spell on my solo walk home

Sy 12:59 A.M. : Fair.

You 12:59 A.M. : I’m pretty far from home so I’m being a little more safety minded

Sy 1:00 A.M. : Good. We just finished up a bit of cardio so now I’m wide awake and L is passed out 🤣

You 1:00 A.M. : Funny, it’s usually the other way around

Sy 1:01 A.M. : It’s the clean up afterwards that always wakes me up.

Sy 1:02 A.M. : I can doom scroll a bit and keep ya company if ya want.

You 1:03 A.M. : I wouldn’t mind a witness to my survival

You 1:04 A.M. : Right now I’m sitting in the first subway car behind the driver but as I walk I may call you

Sy 1:05 A.M. : Sure thing.

You 1:06 A.M. : Anyway, the guys were nice but loud as fuck

You 1:06 A.M. : Very into screaming along with the music

Sy 1:07 A.M. : Oh boy. How was Desi handling it?

You 1:07 A.M. : Well actually

You 1:08 A.M. : Even when her BF’s band showed up and things got extra loud

Sy 1:09 A.M. : You know, I was a little bummed I missed the night out with you guys when ya texted me earlier.

Sy 1:09 A.M. : Doesn’t sound like something I would have enjoyed after all lol

You 1:10 A.M. : Not at all. You like good music but not at that volume

You 1:12 A.M. : I wasn’t supposed to go but Leon said I was welcome as he left and Desi confessed that she had never met most of the people that were there and that she would appreciate a familiar face so I went with her after supper

Sy 1:13 A.M. : That’s nice

You 1:14 A.M. : But it was loud enough that my throat is a little raw now. I was honestly concerned that someone would call the cops

Sy 1:16 A.M. : Maybe with enough alcohol I would have been able to have fun lol

You 1:16 A.M. : I was the only sober person. The others had either had copious amounts of alcohol or copious amounts of weed

Sy 1:17 A.M. : It’s better you be sober for the return trip anyway.

You 1:18 A.M. : Leon and his back up vocalist were singing Bohemian Rhapsody at one point and Leon was chugging beer to rehydrate between the different parts 🤣

Sy 1:19 A.M. : Isn’t that how the professionals do it? 😅

You 1:20 A.M. : Only the ones in need of weekly meetings in church basements

Sy 1:21 A.M. : To be fair, the fact that he was able to both remember and sing the lyrics while drunk and high is impressive.

You 1:22 A.M. : Gotta give credit where credit is due, I guess 🤷‍♀️

You 1:23 A.M. : Getting off at the next stop

Sy 1:24 A.M. : Alright.

Sy 1:24 A.M. : Then you catch a bus?

You 1:25 A.M. : No, it’s a 15 minute walk

You 1:26 A.M. : Out of the station and walking

Sy 1:27 A.M. : Call whenever.

I wait until I’m across the street from the station to lift my phone to my ear. It only rings once before the call connects and I hear Sy’s deep voice.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

I hop down from the sidewalk onto the street to pass a man walking ahead of me. Why do people insist on moving at a crawl dead center in the middle of the sidewalk I will never understand.

“Didja have fun tonight?”

“Surprisingly, yes but not as much as you, I bet.”

Sy chuckles on the other end of the line. “Matter of perspective.”

“How was your family dinner?”

“Painful. Except for the dog. It was nice to have her around again.”

Sy’s apartment doesn’t allow pets other than for short visits so he wasn’t able to get his own dog after leaving his mother’s. Frankly, the dog is probably the main reason he didn’t move out sooner. He held out way longer than I would have. He’s also a good southern boy and doesn’t ever talk back, unlike me. I’ve got a mouth on me and I ain’t afraid to use it to tell people where they can shove it.

“What about you? Anything interestin’ happen after I left?”

“Not really, we mostly got caught up on our girl talk. Leon left around five to get to his mother’s day dinner. Desi and I left my place around eight. We ate at the little burger place on the corner then got to Leon’s a little before ten.”

I walk past the restaurant in question as I speak.

“Did it start rainin’ out?”

“More like lightly drizzling.”

“Are you still only wearin’ your shorts and crop top?”

I know he’s mostly asking out of worry that I’m going to get cold but I have no doubt there’s also a little part of him that’s worried my outfit from earlier would attract unwanted attention.

“I changed into jeans before leaving since I knew the walk home would be chilly and I put my giant hoodie on for the trip home.”

It’s a triple XL zip front I got from my old job. I found a bunch of old seasonal shirts when cleaning out the store room and my boss had let me take my pick of the leftovers before donating the rest. There had been one hoodie at the very bottom that had likely remained unclaimed because of the size. You could fit three of me in it at the same time but it’s comfortable and right now, it’s a small protection against potential unwanted attention.

“I’ve only seen, like, three people on the street and the road is well lit but, you know…”

“Better safe than sorry. I don’t mind darlin’.”

I can tell he’s getting tired since it’s about three hours past his normal bedtime. I’ve never been particularly worried about walking home alone at night. Hell, I’ve wandered around strange cities in the middle of the night to sober up in the hopes of avoiding a nasty hangover. Just the other day the girls I work with were saying how they don’t like taking the subway at night because they had too many bad experiences with being catcalled or with other passengers making them uncomfortable.

Me? Well, I’ve never been catcalled and men don’t normally look twice at me. I guess my above average height and my resting bitch face have made me overly confident. Or I’m just proof that women don’t come out of the womb feeling the need to clutch their keys in their fist at night unless men have done something to make them feel unsafe.

“At least I remembered to charge my phone before leaving.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

I wasn’t expecting Sy to actually be awake when I texted so the phone battery was more to make sure I knew when the last subway was and to call a cab in case I missed it.

“So are you camping out on the couch while we talk?”

L is surprisingly cool with our friendship but I’m pretty sure being woken up by your boyfriend talking on the phone with another woman in the middle of the night is a no-go for even the most laidback of girlfriends.

“Yeah. I got up for some water so I figured I’d just stay out here and avoid wakin’ L.”

“How dirty did you get her that the clean up pulled you out of the post nut drowsiness? You start dabbling in watersports or something?”

“Fuck off, there were no water sports involved.” Sy releases an audible yawn. “I didn’t think I’d miss condoms but they sure as hell made cleanup faster. By the time we both finish up in the bathroom I’m always wide awake.”

I hum in understanding. L is Sy’s first long-term girlfriend and they just recently dropped the latex after L got on birth control. “Do you have to get up to do that?”

“What, ya want us to just roll over and go to sleep? I already sweat my balls off at night, I don’t need to add wet spots into the mix.”

“You could keep baby wipes by the bed for late night cardio sessions. Avoid having to get up and go to the bathroom. Or bring a wet rag in with you beforehand.”

“That’s… not a bad idea actually.”

I pull my bag off my shoulder as I wait for the light to change. Might as well dig my keys out since I’m almost home. “Yeah, I’m full of good sex advice.” 

“I knew I kept ya around for a reason.”

I smile to myself. We both know that we wouldn’t have made it to ten years of friendship if all I had to offer was sex advice.

“I’m about to turn onto my street. I feel like the walk was shorter than usual.”

“Well, you’re breathin’ kinda heavy. You must’ve been walkin’ faster.”

He’s not wrong. I must be really out of shape if I can’t walk and talk without getting winded. Holding my phone between my cheek and my shoulder, I put my key in the lock and pull the door open.

I don’t remember what time it is until the door slams shut behind me. Oops.

“I’m safely behind a locked door. You are relieved from your babysitting duties.”

I linger in the entrance for a few seconds since the call would probably cut off if I stepped into the elevator.

“I’m up for babysittin’ whenever ya need it. Glad you’re home safe. G’night.”

“Good night.”

[diejager]

Run, Rabbit Run! Pt.2

Cw: implied smut, DARK, yandere, murder, blood and gore, Ghostface is a menace, betrayal, canon typical violence. Wc: 1.4k

Note: pt 3??

Previous

He loved the look of fear on your face, the dread that sunk into your skin, and the slight shaking in your hand. Your face drained, seeming so frozen that he thought you stopped breathing and died, heart seizing frightfully; but he knew that expression when your brain calculated the risks for fight or flight. On this occasion, it was flight.

You bolted, legs swinging you over a window and through the tall grass (or corn, was it a corn field? It didn't matter to Ghostface). In your instantaneous act of terror, you chose a random direction, unaware that you were leading him to a corner. He followed behind you, neither too close nor too far, just at the right distance to have your heart beat frightfully and not hear his breathing.

He loved it, running after you as he did before, one step behind you and so close to having his hands wrapped around your pretty neck. He wondered if you'd let him in again, to bite your neck and shoulder with red kisses, to take you apart in his arms, and to let him talk to you about the things he did - only this time, he wouldn't shy from sharing the gruesome stories he painted for the world to see.

He turned sharply at the corner, determined to cut you off before you left the walls of this weirdly shaped maze. He flashed his knife, the one he intended to gut you with, and jumped at you. You caught the glint of his knife too late, gasping for air when his body tackled you, rolling on the floor. You groaned in pain, cheek laying on the rough, dirt ground of the farm. Ghostface's body was warm and heavy, and strong, he straddled you and cooed.

"Missed ya, doll," he didn't have a distorted voice, he had no use for a voice box in the Entity's world. He couldn't be fought, he couldn't be stopped, and he couldn't be killed. "Didja miss me?"

His voice was familiar, too familiar to be normal. The drawl in his words and the soft, yet raspy tone of it reminded you of home: Pennsylvania. You knew he started there, killing off the people you knew before ultimately choosing you and failing to kill you. It was the cataclysmic event of your life, it festered fear and paranoia of everyone you knew and met.

His gloved - they were also warm - fingers played with your sides, moving upward to knead the flesh of your shoulders and pinch your nape. You flinched at every touch, even the softer, appreciative ones from the killer made you jump. He threaded through your locks, locking with the base of your hair and pulling your head back. You yelped at the harsh motion, feeling your hair being pulled from its seams with the force of his grip.

"I asked you a question, (Name)," he hissed in your ear, his mask kissing your cheek. "It's impolite to ignore your boyfriend."

You gasped, his use of words sent chills down your arched back. It couldn't be, could it? The thought of Ghostface and Jed being the same person made your heart drop. Tears blurred your sight, threatening to spill the second you connected the dots he placed for you.

Jed was a tease, but he was loving and caring, he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his world. Although he found interest in the murders since the start of your move, his words made the twisted truth into a dark fantasy that people got hooked on. That never stopped him from loving you, spending the night in your bed, comforting you when your paranoia and nightmares hit you so strongly that you crashed. He was the light in your life, a pillar of reassurance and comfort.

Unlike the reaper, renamed Ghostface by Jed, was a cold, calculated killer that found pleasure in blood. He murdered as he loved, mixing both in a perverted need. He stabbed with passion, he killed with devotion, and he drew stories up with fascination. Ghostface was the killer you ran from, he was your demon as you were his obsession.

"N-no- no-," you cried, nails digging into the ground. You felt frustrated, angry, and betrayed. Were you being lied to by the killer or was he telling the truth? You wanted to ignore him, block out his familiar voice and the words he kept singing to you. "You're not-"

"Not Jed, hmm?" you could hear the mocking pitch in his voice, his head tilted forward, letting his nose touch your cheek. "That's mean, doll. I thought we had something going on. Really, I really thought we had something, didn't you?"

"Shut up!"

Your enraged outburst earned a scoff from him, he crawled off your body and moved you to face him just as you were planning on pushing off the ground and running. He cocked his head left, straddling you once more with his hand mockingly waving his knife. The threat hung on a thin string, and Ghostface had an unpredictable pattern of instantaneous and planning acts. If he wished to gut you where you laid, he would, but if he wanted to watch you run, he'd let you go with a cackle echoing in the eternal sunset.

You wished you could move, hit him, dig your fingers into his clothes until you got to his skin and claw him bloody, you wanted to hurt him as he hurt you, but your hands were pinned beneath his knees.

"What? Can't run now, can ya?" he chuckled, voice light with perverted mirth. "You had me running all 'round since Pennsylvania. Home's real far now, isn't it?"

Your teary eyes glared at him, lips pulled in a toothy sneer, you hated him. (Did you really hate him? He was Jed, wasn't he? If his words were truthful then you felt torn in two.) Dirt smeared your face and your hair formed a messy halo around your head like the angel Ghostface spent years hunting.

His thumb brushed the smudged brown on the apple of your cheek, but you turned to bite him, teeth clicking when they didn't bite any skin. He clicked his tongue, quickly taking his hand away from your volatile mouth. He knew you were a biter, he remembered you biting into his shoulder when he got rough, begging for him to bite back. You were a little minx when you were comfortable.

Though you were adorable, denial wasn't something he appreciated from you, that glint of doubt in your eyes almost felt insulting. You were so attentive, eyes following his every movement, he liked the attention. You followed his hand, reaching for his mask, eyes widening when he tilted the ghostly face up and peered down at you with hazel hues.

You gaped like a fish out of water, shocked into silence. New tears brimmed the corners of your eyes, rolling down your temple in quiet submission. Your breath stuck in your throat, body trembling beneath him.

"Da-Danny?" you whispered, voice so quiet he almost missed your words. God, he loved the stutter in your words, a nervous little wreck he mended as Jed.

"Good eyes, but look closer, babe. I know you can do it," he lowered his head, breath mixing with your panicked ones. Panic looked good on you as fear and dread did, he wanted to eat you alive. "C'mon, (Name)."

"You-you're Jed too?"

He rolled his head back, chuckling at your meekness, you made yourself smaller, wanting to hide from him. The bubbly personality he grew up knowing turned into an introverted and paranoid survivor. He was drunk on the knowledge of the change he brought, changing you into the person you were, he broke your cocoon and clipped your beautiful wings. He wanted you to himself before, and now still.

"Bing! Bing! Congrats, babe! I knew you were smart, " he chuckled, fingers digging into your neck. He watched you gasp for air, struggling to free yourself from his hold. "Oh, don't worry, we'll see each other again."

He raised his knife over his head, the sharp edge gleaming gold with the setting sun. A crazed glint crossed his eyes, flashing darkly in his beautiful face (you always found Danny pretty, the dark-haired introvert was handsome, and Jed's hazel eyes reminded you of Danny. Your liking of Jed probably stemmed from your little crush on the dark boy from your neighborhood) when he finally swung his trusty weapon.

"We'll have eternity together, doll."

Next

[gaylordscooter]

Our Landlord that we Pay in Fear (collect my pages)

[warning for implied self harm and suicide attempt]

“i’m making a very noble sacrifice for you two right now so you best carry out my dying wish in the case i die.”

Dust and Horror gave Killer a judgemental glare.

“we're not making a bath bomb with your dust and using it, that’s just…no. fuck that,” Horror replied.

Killer pouted. “fine,” he sighed dramatically. “remember me!” he shouted before sprinting blindly into the darkness of the forest.

Mere seconds later, they heard a thud along with Killer cursing.

“i’ll try to forget him,” Dust signed. He took the flashlight out from his pocket and turned it on. He headed into the forest with Horror.

This was a new game of Nightmare’s. It was completely stolen; it wasn't his original idea in the first place. They can thank Killer for introducing Nightmare to horror games, trying to see if he would be scared by them. He wasn't. He thought he could be scarier and decided to test that hypothesis out on them.

“Slenderman” was the name of the game Nightmare was enacting. Killer claimed he was great at it, an absolute expert. So of course, the other two pressured him to go on ahead and find all the pages as fast as he could.

He probably only got one before the two heard his scream ring throughout the forest.

Dust signed “scream” and “girl” with amusement.

“i know, right? makes me wonder if our voices can go that high, heh,” Horror replied.

Immediately Dust’s mood soured like a switch was flicked. He made no comment and walked faster, forcing Horror to speed up or get left behind.

“right,” Horror sighed. “forgot you hate yourself that much.”

Dust grunted as if to say, “shut up.” He pointed the flashlight at the numerous trees around them, pausing when he spotted a page haphazardly slapped on one of the trunks.

He approached it, looking around while Horror watched his back, not like he trusted him to protect it anyway. The page itself was covered in grime. It didn't even need to be stapled to the tree, the goo was enough to keep it in place. He wondered what exactly the grime was made out of. Nightmare is always coated in it. Is it like his skin? He banished that thought with the others.

He peeled the page off the tree. It made a gross wet noise as he did. Usually he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty, but he was glad he was wearing gloves regardless.

“what's on it?” Horror asked.

Dust held it out for him to see.

What was visible on the page was messy writing of seemingly random letters, but most of it was covered by the goop.

Horror squinted his eye sockets. “some kind of code?”

Dust shrugged. He put the page away into his inventory.

A low rumble echoed throughout the forest. Dust appeared unfazed and walked on ahead anyway.

“didja hear that?” Horror asked, on edge at the noise. He knew he wasn't in his universe anymore, but his instincts couldn't help but scream at him to get the hell out of the forest upon hearing an unusual noise. It was basic self-preservation. 

Dust paused mid-step and turned to Horror. He lifted his index finger up his chin, “real?”

“debatable if it’s ‘real’” he said with air quotes, “but if we both heard it, it's probably a problem.”

They carried on, Dust slowing down so that they were walking side-by-side.

“i wonder how killer’s doing. it’s so hard to see even with a flashlight,” Horror remarked. “we haven't heard from him since he screamed. think he's dead?”

Dust chuckled at the notion.

Horror sucked in air through his teeth as the chuckling became full blown laughing like he just said the funniest joke ever. He must really hate the guy, Horror thought.

Dust’s laughter cut off instead of dying down. He wasn't even interrupted. He just stopped when he decided to.

What a weirdo, Horror thought, much to his hypocrisy.

Killer was in fact, not dead, but he would be if he slowed down anytime soon. Sprinting blindly in a forest you’ve never been in wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do, but he had to get good at it quickly. He didn't know what the hell he saw or heard, but it sure wasn't anything familiar. He thought Nightmare would be the one hunting them down, but as far as he was concerned, the thing chasing him didn't sound nor look like him at all. At least, according to the mere glimpses he got of it.

His soul was pounding. He cursed himself for showing Nightmare what a horror game was. Of course that freak wasn't going to be scared of it! He was fear itself! Probably…

A branch snagged his foot and his head slammed into the ground. Even though he recovered quickly and shoved himself up mere seconds later, the thing grabbed him by the ankle. He twisted around to face it.

His breathing hitched. The thing he stared back at was blurry, almost like he was staring right at a dream, but he knew what it was.

It was the anomaly. The one from his universe. The one that took control of him and made him empty the underground.

The Player.

Two blasters summoned by his side, but they refused to fire.

Killer was sweating bullets. He tried kicking it off. Tried summoning bones but his magic was not working.

“No no no no!” he hissed.

He whipped out his knife—big mistake. He couldn't control his arm anymore. He couldn't control any of his body.

He was completely paralyzed, yet he trembled anyway.

He was hyperventilating as the anomaly closed in on him.

“—and that makes five pages? how many more left are there?” Horror questioned.

Dust shrugged, as helpful as ever.

Luckily they haven't ran into any direct trouble yet. They only heard a few weird noises here and there. Maybe Killer was distracting Nightmare?

They’ve explored most of the forest by now. At least they assumed so because of how long they've been walking around.

Because of the lack of danger, it was almost like a normal stroll through the forest. It was sort of nostalgic to Horror, like he was walking around Snowdin before the problems with the CORE. It was just missing the snow and of course, the people.

He kept an eye socket on Dust, wondering if he found this nostalgic too. He doubted it. Dust hated thinking about the past, which was fair. If he was in his shoes he wouldn't want to think about it either. There was a reason he hardly looked like he was Sans.

Dust stopped in place, looking intently at a particular tree.

“i don't think there's a page on there, bud,” Horror assured.

Dust ignored him and walked over to the tree. He studied it a moment before shaking his head. He signed something too quickly for Horror to understand. It seemed like it wasn't a message for him.

Horror darted his eyes around the area. “yeah, like i said there isn’t a—”

Dust dropped the flashlight and punched the tree with a loud crack that was most certainly not just from the tree.

Horror winced, leaning down to pick up the flashlight. “yeesh, dude, did it owe you money or something?”

Dust clutched his hand with the other. There was no doubt it was chipped at the knuckles now. Even though he was wearing gloves, the blood from his marrow bleeding out between the cracks dyed the fabric red. “wrong direction,” he signed, “circles.” He pointed at the tree with his uninjured hand.

“you didn't have to go and punch the tree,” Horror said. “your hand alright?”

Dust hissed in response.

“ok…” Horror replied. And they thought he was the rabid one. “i’ll lead the way then. just chill out.”

Once he started leading they didn't come across that same tree he punched, so presumably they weren't going in circles anymore.

They found three more pages. Nothing happened when they grabbed the first two, but upon grabbing the third, the area lit up.

Dust and Horror blinked rapidly as their eye sockets adjusted to the daylight.

Horror turned off the flashlight and put it away in his pockets. “huh, i guess we're done?”

Dust pumped his fist in the air in victory and flipped off no one in particular. He waved goodbye to Horror as he hastily walked to what he believed was the nearest way out of the forest.

“wait, do you even know which direction the castle is from here?” Horror asked.

He held a hand up to sign “no” without turning back.

Before Horror could follow after him, Nightmare emerged from the ground next to him.

“gah!” Horror exclaimed, startled by the sudden appearance.

“You three sure took your time,” he said. He frowned and scanned the area. “Where is the third one?”

“killer? he split up from us at the beginning…you didn't know?” Horror questioned. He assumed Nightmare had a full view of the entire forest. Was he just following them around instead?

Nightmare’s single eye blinked. “I did not,” he said slowly. He would have to search the forest to find Killer. He had been feeling the most fear and stress from him. If he had to guess, he was lost.

Luckily Dust already found Killer by the edge of the forest. He didn't expect to find him clutching his own soul like it owed him money.

He looked roughed up, physically and mentally. White ring eyelights pierced into his target shaped soul as he scowled.

If he kept clutching his soul like that he would die.

Dust didn't feel like watching someone die right in front of him, even if it was Killer. He turned his soul blue and yanked it up to get it out of his hand.

Killer gasped and thrashed in his hold. “let go of me! let go!” he wailed.

Dust reflexively released his hold on his soul, dropping him to the ground. He watched with concern—disgust, as Killer breathed rapidly while lying on the ground. What the hell happened to him? Nightmare wasn't even near him right now.

Killer didn't acknowledge his presence, even after that, so Dust got closer.

He crouched down next to the panicking skeleton.

Finally, Killer got a glimpse of him. He rolled onto his chest and pushed himself up with his arms. “dusty?”

He sounded so relieved. It caught Dust off guard.

He hastily reached out with one arm, falling back down onto his chest when he did. He grabbed hold of Dust’s knee. Once his hand touched something solid he relaxed, and then he jerked his hand away when he registered that Dust was there. He sat up and cleared his throat. “didja get any pages?” he asked casually.

It took Dust a second to respond. The change in Killer’s demeanor was instant. He nodded but then signed, “what happened?”

“i uh—haha, um,” he stammered. “nightmare was chasing me?” he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

“I’m right here,” Nightmare said, startling the two as he approached from behind the nearby trees. “And I didn't see you the whole time. Yet you were terrified.”

Killer crossed his arms trying to not look embarrassed. “i was not! just got a little lost is all. it annoyed me! i wasn't terrified.”

Nightmare mirrored his crossed arms. “You are aware I can tell the difference, right? I don't just sense your negativity, I sense what emotion it is.”

“oh it's not like it matters anyway! negativity is negativity, who cares!”

“Oh, it does matter.” Nightmare's tentacles flicked in agitation. “Your terror wasn't quite palatable.”

Killer's sockets widened as he sneered, “good! i hope you choked on it.”

“I cannot ‘choke’ on your emotions,” he deadpanned.

Killer grumbled something incomprehensible.

“Get up already, you two. We're going back to the castle.” He already opened a portal next to them.

“yay! more torture!” Killer cheered sarcastically as he stood up along with Dust.

“I did not cause whatever happened to you, and besides we're done for the day,” he corrected. “I will be out, don’t burn the place down or you won’t have a place to stay.”

“you’re the one that burned the place down before,” Killer muttered as he went through the portal.

“Dust,” Nightmare interrupted as he was about to go through.

Dust turned his head towards him.

“Do you know what happened to him?” he asked.

Dust couldn't tell if that was worry in his voice or intrigue. He shook his head, but after a moment of thinking, he pointed to where his soul would be and made a tearing motion with his hands.

Nightmare hummed thoughtfully. “Next time, do not split up.”

Underneath the hood was a look of confusion, but he gave him a thumbs up anyway. He turned back around to go through the portal. It was only once he was in the castle that he let himself wonder just what Nightmare was thinking. His motives were as clear as mud to them. All they knew is that he got energy from negative emotions, which is why they put them through stressful situations.

However the limit to these situations fluctuate, and not in a predictable way either. He was inconsistent.

Dust guessed that today was one of those days where he went easy on them. Maybe that was why he was unnerved by the intensity of Killer’s reaction, because it was unplanned.

But wouldn't that be beneficial to him?

Maybe he was just a control freak.

He walked to the kitchen to get something to drink, noticing the lack of Killer talking Horror's or his nonexistent ears off.

Horror was sitting at the dining table with all the pages laid out before him as well as a piece of scrap paper with various notes scribbled down.

Dust didn't pay him any mind as he leaned on the wall by the fridge as he drank.

He watched Horror go through all five stages of grief as he meticulously studied the pages and then went on to create five new stages of grief.

Had he cared, he would've pointed out that the pages are most likely meaningless, but this was too entertaining to interrupt.

It had to be at least an hour before Horror slammed his hands down on the table and gave up. He looked over at Dust, eyes squinting. “what the hell are you drinking?”

Dust looked down at his glass full of various condiments, a dash of vanilla, and milk, all topped with “ice cubes” that were just frozen chunks of butter. He did not have an answer.

Horror sighed, massaging his forehead. “make me one,” he mumbled.

Normally Dust wouldn't follow an order like that, but he decided Horror deserved a treat after inventing five more stages of grief and enacting them out before him.

“have you seen Killer at all recently or were you standing there the entire time?”

Dust handed him the drink, giving him a blank “what do you think?” look.

“figures…” He took a sip. It was an assault on all of his senses. There were at least three different consistencies in this single drink. Horrendous. He took another sip.

There was a moment of silence as both of them drank the bio-hazard in their hands.

“...he’s probably in his room again,” Horror guessed.

It wasn't an odd occurrence for Killer to coop up in his room after Nightmare’s had his fun, but it wasn't that common either.

Usually Dust wouldn't care—he didn't care still, but…

He finished his drink, now crunching on the frozen butter. That sucked, badly. He’ll have to make that again sometime. He put the glass in the sink and made his way to the hall that led to their rooms.

He passed by Killer's door to get to his own. His hand paused when he grasped the doorknob. With a silent sigh, he turned around and walked back to Killer’s door.

His mismatched eyelights bore into the door as if looking at it would magically open it. Did he want to knock or just open the door? Scratch that he wasn't going to knock.

He twisted the doorknob, only to find the door was locked.

He internally cursed. Killer probably heard that; it would be awkward to knock now.

He could walk away right now. He didn't know who was at the door yet—

The door opened right as he thought that.

“what?” Killer groaned. His frown evaporated when he saw Dust. He leaned on the door frame. “oh, you.” There was that relief again.

His mind decided now was the opportune moment for him to forget what little sign language he knew. He just ended up staring at him in silence.

…

He CHECKed Killer, noticing his HP was a tad lower than usual.

Killer faked a cough into his hand. “...good talk.” He reached for the door and closed it.

Dust didn't hear it lock.

Well, at least he confirmed he was still alive. Dust decided he was satisfied with that and went over to his own room.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

hello, can i get a request for tokyo revengers womb tatto pt.2? 😩🙏🏻 with Haitani bros, Baji, and Draken? Only if you want to write of course <33

Oh absolutely! I threw in Izana and Kisaki too because why not? Hope you enjoy~

Finding out you have a womb tattoo pt. 2 - Tokyo Rev Headcannons

Ran

Oh? 👀

You can bet on him being cheeky and teasing you for sure

Don't take his teasing too seriously though, he really loves the fact that you got a tattoo down there

He'll snake one arm around your waist, pull you closer and place his other hand on the tattoo while whispering, “Didja get that just for me, babe?”

I HC him as being very physically affectionate anyways, but he's going to be even more touchy feely now. Always looking for an excuse to touch your waist or anywhere near your tattoo ;)

You try to tease him back by saying he should get one too. He brushes it off but he will think about it sometimes.... what if he surprised you by getting one?

Very nsfw but! He likes seeing it covered in cum after sex now~

Rindo

Honestly he has to do a double take when he first sees you with it

You walk into the room in a crop top/topless/etc after your appointment and greet him, “Hey Rin”

“Hey y/n” Wait a damn minute, he thinks as his head snaps back towards you

Kinda speechless at first, he's never seen someone with that particular tattoo

But! He comes to really like it, especially on you

Very helpful during the healing process and very sweet when he asks if he can touch it

Once he has permission though, he will also find excuses to touch there or around that area 😊

Baji

Such a tsundere about it omg

He acts like he doesn't care about it, but give it a few days or a week and you'll notice that he actually does love it

When you're alone, probably cuddling or maybe taking a nap together, he'll gently brush his fingers against your skin, tracing your tattoo and admiring the design you picked

You start getting dressed or undressing in the same room as him and he secretly stares at you, he already thought you were cute but he thinks you look even cuter now

He'd probably tease you too, but not too often. Just every once in a while

Draken

Oh baby he is flustereeeeddd

Just kinda...stares at it when he first sees you

“Ken, you good?”

Yeah totally *coughs* very good, very normal, definitely not blushing at all

He would be extremely flattered if you got some dragons worked into the design. ”Now we match, Kenny!”

He's not horribly overbearing about caring for it, but he will remind you to cover it up when you shower, put lotion on it, etc etc

You slip your hand under his shirt and tell him how cute it'd look on him, caressing his lower abdomen and looking up at him with half-lidded eyes

He tells you to shut up, but you can tell by the way he turns his head away that he's blushing like crazy

Izana

Woah cool tattoo :o

He's so curious and he's probably going to ask lots of questions like why you chose that tattoo, what made you go with that design, why that colour ink, etc etc

Not touchy feely unless he knows that it riles you up

If having that area touched gets any sort of reaction out of you, expect his hands on you frequently :)

It's not really something that turns him on, but if it turns you on for any reason, he'll tease you and maybe play into that for you

Kisaki

Also flustereeeeddd af

You lift up your shirt to show off your new tattoo and you swear that he squeaks when he sees it

Looks away very quickly, his face already as hot as the sun

If you want him to touch it, you're going to have to physically put his hand on it yourself 😐

He does really like it though...it's just in such an intimate spot....

You can easily tease him by saying that he should get one, it'd look so good on him ;)

Kisaki.exe has stopped working

[herofics]

Dangers of winter

A/N: Hahahahaaaaa, Dabi angst yet again, surprise, surprise… Kinda toxic I guess though, and maybe passively suicidal reader?

“I’m not watching you kill yourself over this, I’m done!” you yelled at him. “I’m done with your bullshit revenge plan, and I’m done with you!”

“Didja honestly think I’d just let you go? How am I supposed to know you’re not goin to blab my plans to some barfly the next time you decide to get drunk?”

“No fear of that once I’m away from you, you’re the one who drove me to drink anyway” you spat, turning your back to him to leave the room.

“I’m not through with you yet!” Dabi growled as he quickly stepped between you and the door.

He pressed his hand against the door, and you could see it getting charred around the contact point.

“What are you gonna do? Hurt me? Kill me? Go ahead, it’s better than watching you die over some stupid revenge fantasy!” you exclaimed angrily, starting to tear up.

There it was, the truth. You would rather die than have to live with losing him.

“I can’t keep doing this, I-I just can’t” you cried, falling to your knees and burying your face in your hands.

Dabi was quite honestly baffled. You weren’t usually like this, actually you were never like this, he had barely ever seen you cry. You’d never shown this kind of desperation, this kind of despair. No one had, not for him anyway. Your show of feelings wasn’t exactly breaking his heart, but it did make him feel… something.

“Do you think that I’m gonna give up on everythin I’ve worked for, just because you shed a few tears?” Dabi said with a mocking tone.

If he hurt you enough, maybe, just maybe, you would be free of him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to feel whatever this was, and he could go on with his quest for revenge. It would be better for both of you to part ways, but somewhere in that burnt, black heart of his, he didn’t really want to let you go. He wanted to keep you, all to himself, for the time he had left. He was selfish like that, and he was well aware of it, he just didn’t really care. Dabi felt conflicted. He didn’t want to let you go, but he also didn’t want to make you suffer like this.

“Get out then, if that’s what you want. You’re useless anyway” he scoffed.

You could feel your breath hitch in your throat when you heard what he said. You raised your head from your hands, tears still rolling down your cheeks, noticing he was looking down at you with that familiar burning hate in his eyes. You’d seen that hatred so many times before, but never directed at you, never had he looked at you like that.

You didn’t say anything. You just got up from the floor, wobbling a little, before he stepped away from the door and you could slip out. You couldn’t even look at him anymore, it was too painful.

You were gone, things were as they should be. He was alone, as he should be.

You didn’t know where you would go, you didn’t want to go home. Even though you had left your jacket at Dabi’s place, it was like you couldn’t even feel the cold. It was snowing and the wind had started to pick up, but you didn’t even notice it. You just wandered until you were too tired to move. It didn’t take long in that cold for you to be in such a state.

“I don’t care anymore…” you muttered as you fell down in the snow. “I don’t care…”

You couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. Maybe you could just let yourself succumb to the cold. Dying of hypothermia was like going to sleep, or so you’d heard. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad way to go.

Just before you lost consciousness, you thought you heard someone calling your name as they approached, but who would do that? There was no one who cared about you anymore. 

Dabi felt like an idiot when he finally found you, actually he felt like an idiot the moment you were out the door. He had left his place with your jacket in hand, because you’d forgotten it. The last thing he wanted was for you to die of hypothermia. He headed in the direction of your place, hoping to basically throw the jacket at you and leave.

Dabi jogged the usual route to your apartment, but he didn’t see you. He got this pit in his stomach, if you weren’t here, where were you? One of your friends must have come to pick you up. Even though he tried to convince himself of that, the pit in his stomach just wouldn’t go away.

Dabi returned to his apartment building, kicking frozen chunks of snow out of his way. When he was almost there, he noticed someone laying in the snow. He took a few steps closer, his heart in his throat. It was you, dammit.

Dabi closed the distance between you, calling your name as he fell on his knees next to you.

He saw the moment you closed your eyes, the moment you gave up and let go. He wasn’t going to let you go, he refused to. It was a different thing to not have you in his life, he could bear that, but to know you were dead because of him, that he couldn’t take.

Dabi picked you up and carried you back to his apartment. You were so cold in his arms and it terrified him.

“Don’t you die on me now” he muttered as he set you down in his bed.

He laid as many blankets on you as he could find, which was only three. He then took his jacket and shirt off, before climbing under the covers with you. He pulled you close and held you.

Dabi’s normal temperature was quite a bit higher than someone’s without a fire quirk, so he was basically a portable heater. He knew he shouldn’t turn up the heat too much, because you were so close to him as to not hurt you, but he had to get you warm, he had to.

Dabi didn’t know how long he laid there with you, but once a quiet “warm” escaped your lips, and you snuggled closer to him, he felt like he could finally breathe. Maybe this was what it felt like to love someone, to feel like you couldn’t breathe when they weren’t well and safe.

[judesmoonbeauty]

SurpriseBag2024: A Happy Switch-Up Between The Cunning Mobster & The Happiness-Obsessed Oddball

This is a repost. Due to the original being deleted by Tumblr, my tags list will not be included nor will CGs be uploaded per my previous announcement. This is a fan translation only, so please expect grammatical errors and lack of nuance. While I appreciate your support and welcome re-blogs, please do not repost my translations elsewhere. Thank you for you support! ☾.

I got involved in Roger's egoistical cursed research.

Ellis: Huh? Why is Jude me?

Jude: That's my line. Why’re ya me?

I was asked to watch over Jude and Ellis, who had switched places.

(As a fairytale keeper, I wanted to watch over them until the end.)

(......But I want to watch over them anymore.)

Jude: ………

(Jude in the form of Ellis is in an even worse mood than usual!)

Child Passing By: Mum, there’s a demon.

Mother Passing By: Hey. It’s dangerous so don’t go near him……

(Ellis' face is so handsome, but when he’s irritated, it's very powerful.)

(Ugh, I miss the usual gentle Ellis.)

Kate: Kate, this gelato I just bought is delicious.

Kate: Ah, yes. It has a rich flavor, yet it's not too sweet.

Jude: Lickin’ ’n lickin’ while workin’. Are ya dogs.

Ellis: Dogs don't eat gelato, right?

Jude: So, ya eat sweets in another’s body.

Jude takes a cigarette out of his pocket and puts it in his mouth with a natural gesture.

Kate: Oh, Jude, you can't smoke. That’s Ellis' body!

Kate: Besides, if you smoke it, you'll end up choking again.

Jude: ….Tch.

The reason we’re on the platform at Paddington Station, is because we’re on an important mission for Crown.

Actually, the two of them were planning to work at Jude's company as usual.

[Screen shows a pic of Jude in Ellis’ body.]

Jude: Yer in breach of the contract ya piece of shit…….I’ll show ya hell.

[Show a pic of in Ellis’ body.]

Ellis: Are you okay? Shall I make you happy?

(They stopped so that the people at the company who knew the two well wouldn't get confused.)

The two are now on Crown duty, while Victor and Harrison are at Jude's company posing as friends.

(I have to keep an eye on the two of them and keep up with my assignment!)

Kate: …..Still, the target doesn’t seem to have shown up.

Today's target is the capture and decimation of members of a corrupt business association who are committing theft in the country.

A man believed to be the main suspect was recently arrested by police but escaped from jail.

The Crown received word that he was planning to flee the country.

(The main culprit has a bad leg and limps. I have to make sure I don't miss him.)

Ellis: Kate, I'll give you my berry flavor, too. Okay, ahhh.

Kate: Ahhh.

Kate: Mmm….it’s delicious.

Ellis: Right? We don't know when the target will appear, so let’s just take it easy.

Kate: ……Thank you.

(…….When Jude treats me kindly, the gap is shocking.)

Jude: Oi, Ellis. Don’t do gross things with other people’s faces.

Jude: What’re ya up to?

Kate: I’m not up to anything.

Kate: It's just... it's refreshing and nice to be treated kindly……by you Jude.

Jude: Ha, don’t lie.

Jude’ lips in Ellis’ form twisted cruelly as I was grabbed by my chin.

Jude: Yer a masochistic pervert who needs to be tormented to get excited.

Kate: That, that’s not true……Please don’t treat me like a pervert!

Jude: Doubt that.

(I can never say I’m excited.)

While I was secretly excited, Ellis lifted himself off the bench.

Kate: Are you going somewhere, Ellis?

Ellis: I thought I'd get you something warm to drink.

Ellis: You must have gotten cold from eating gelato, Kate.

Ellis: Ah.

Jude: ……Didja see the target?

Ellis: No. When I stood up, I was just a little surprised that my gaze was lower than usual.

Ellis: Jude, you’re so short.

Jude: ….Ha?

Kate: ….He-hehee.

Jude: It's not that I'm short, it's just that yer a big guy.

Jude: Why’re ya laughin’, too? I'll knock yer head ‘round ‘n make ya shorter!

Kate: I’m sorry. It’s just sometimes you can learn something new when you change things up.

Jude: That’s damned useless information.

Ellis: I'm enjoying being Jude, though.

Jude: Shuddup.

Jude: Yer fluffy conversations are drivin’ me crazy.

At that moment, Jude’s gaze, which was clad in Ellis’ twilight color, were filled with sharpness.

Jude: ……..

Kate: Jude? No way….

Jude: There he is, that guy with the limp.

Jude: It'll be troublesome if he leaves the country. Follow him.

Kate: Ha, …..on it!

We board the train and pursue our target, weaving through the passengers.

Just as I stepped into the last row of the empty cargo area.

Main Culprit: Thanks for following along.........You guys, surround them.

As if on cue, several men jump out from the shadows of the seats and surround us.

(…….we’re surrounded.)

(I had no idea his friends were on board too.)

Jude: Yer very gracious to welcome us. Thanks.

Main Culprit: I knew the coppers were after us. I let you come, so I could get revenge.

(They think we’re the police.)

(Whatever it is, it means they were reading our moves.)

As we stare at each other, our feet shake and the train begins to move.

Main Culprit: We can throw your bodies out of the train and into the river, and there won't be a single piece of evidence left behind.

Main Culprit: It would be the perfect place to die. Go ahead, kill them.

Ellis: …..Kate, stay here so you don’t get hurt.

Kate: Yes….

Ellis tried to jump up as easily as usual, but wasn’t able to do so.

Ellis: Oh, whoa.

Ellis, who’s still in Jude’s form, lost his balance and fell on the spot.

Isla: Huh, Ellis….?

Ellis: Surprising. That’s right, I’m Jude.

(Oh, because his body is different than usual!)

Jude: What’re ya waitin’ for?

Jude:….Damn, what’re these uselessly long legs. They’re difficult......

Main Culprit: I thought you were an elite group, but you’re just a bunch of small fry.

Main Culprit: Take care of them kindly in “moderation”.

Ellis: ....... Hmmm, Jude has strong legs.

Ellis: I'm starting to get the hang of it.

Ellis: ……..Like this.

Ellis’ raised leg strikes into the jaw of the main culprit’s subordinates.

Subordinate: Gah……

(Wow, that's amazing...)

Kate: Oh, Jude, behind you!

Jude: I can see ‘em without ya tellin’ me.

Jude, using Ellis’ body, flew through the air and touched their heads one after another.

Subordinate: Whoa our hands are stuck together! They won’t separate. What is this……

All the men knelt on the spot in a prayer pose..

Jude: I can barely breathe in this body….I hate it.

Ellis: I wanted to use Jude's ability to put them to sleep.

Jude: Ya can't torture ‘em if they’re asleep.

Main Culprit: Hic…..

Jude: …..Let’s make a deal.

Jude: Right to left, James Spencer, Simon Harris, Oscar Perry.

Main Culprit: ……How did you know our names?

Ellis: The names of business partners, family members….he says it's basic to know everything.

Jude: Didntcha guys anonymously transfer the money ya stole to orphanages all over the UK?

(What…..?)

Jude: I did some research ‘n found out that ya ‘n all the other members of the vice society came from the same orphanage.

Jude: Yer all in on it, stealing money from the crooks ‘n usin’ it to give to poor children.

Main Culprit: ……yes.

(You mean he was committing evil and helping people?)

Jude: How admirable, tear jerkin’, think I’d overlook it.

Jude: —What can I say idiot. Yer tears ain’t an excuse.

Whatever the motive, evil is evil.

The fact that once you have been involved in evil, it will never go away.

Jude: I'll letcha choose. Either you’ll be sold abroad, or you’ll be forced to work in a coal mine until your last breath?

Jude: Do you wanna stay alive, be my slave ‘n work for the rest of yerr life?……..Whaddya choose?

Main Culprit: I thought you guys were the coppers……

Ellis: Is that relevant now? He’s asking if you want to die or live.

Main Culprit: ……

Main Culprit: Please just save my life. Please......!

Jude: The slave contract is complete. Congratulations on yer lifetime employment.

Jude: Remember, a promise is a promise…..If ya break it, I'll give ya hell, so much so, that you’d wish ya were dead.

We boarded the turnaround and made it back to Paddington Station without incident.

Kate: ……that was still surprising.

Kate: Jude you wanted them as part of your company's workforce from the start, and Ellis understood that.

Jude: What’s with those eyes? Ya act like I helped somebody.

Jude: I was forced to do a mission that wasn't planned, ‘n I got something out of it.

Ellis: I think it's okay as long as Jude and Kate are happy.

Kate: I….will work even harder as a fairytale keeper!

Jude: Fuwaha, that useless guts argument. That's all ya do.

Ellis: You’re a hard worker Kate, I like that.

(Oh, that’s.......?)

Ellis: What's wrong, Kate?

Kate: Um...even though you look different, for a moment both looked like you usually do.

Jude & Ellis: ……….

Kate: Jude is still Jude and Ellis is still Ellis, no matter what you both look like.

Kate: But ...…..I kind of want to see the two of you as usual.

Jude: I knew ya were a pervert who wanted to be tortured.

Kate: What, that’s not true!

Ellis: Shall I tease you? I've never done it before, but maybe I can?

Kate: ……Please stop teasing me Ellis.

Ellis: Hehe, sorry.

Jude: Let’s switch back quickly. It's about time that quack finished the medicine.

When we returned to the castle, Roger had successfully completed the antidote.

After drinking it, Jude and Ellis safely return to their normal forms and the matter settled.

Or, it should’ve been -

Kate: I am so glad you’re back to being whole!

Kate: Hey, Ellis. What's with the wine and book in your hand?

Ellis: Victor and Harry went to work for us. Thanks for that.

Ellis: So, I picked the wine, and Jude picked the book.

Jude: It’s just a matter of amassin’ debt.

Kate: Hehe, that's right. Because “nothing is more expensive than free”.

Jude: What's with that grin on your face? It’s stupid.

Ellis: Should l I call Victor and Harry?

Victor: That’s not necessary, for Victor has come even before he was called!

Kate: Harrison……?

Kate:  .......What's going on? You sound like Victor.

Jude: Have ya finally gone nuts after bein’ smeared in all those filthy lies.

Ellis: Harry is kind, so I wonder if he forced himself...

Victor: ?? What are you talking about?

Victor: No matter how you look at it, it's your dearly loved Queen's aide Victor, isn't it?

Ellis: …….Harry.

Jude: Imitatin’ someone you hate is unpleasant, condolences.

Kate: Very......, -you need to get yourself to the hospital as soon as possible!

Harrison: ……I finally found you.

Kate: …..Victor?

Victor grabbed Harrison's chest with a look of anger on his face that he had never seen before.

Kate & Ellis: !

Victor: Oh.….I'm right in front of me. Why?

Harrison: ……Haven’t you noticed? Look at your reflection in the window.

Victor: Wow, I became you Harrison?

Victor: C-CUUUTE~~! Your hair is so smooth! And the tear mole is cute! 😭 LMFAO

Harrison: Don't touch my body!

Kate: Um, wait a minute.

(Harrison is Victor and Victor is Harrison.)

Kate: Does that mean ...…..the two of you swapped places!

Harrison: Aaah.

Harrison: Victor .……You're the one who got us into this mess, aren't you?

Victor: It wasn’t me! If I were the culprit, I'd probably notice the switch right away, right?

Harrison: …..That’s right.

Ellis: Oh.…on there’s needle marks on Victor’s and Harry’s arms.

Harrison: Someone drugged us with a syringe while we slept.

Victor: Judging from the brilliant puncture work, I'd say there's only one suspect.

Harrison: Roger! That egoistical bastard.….He used us as test subjects for an experiment, didn’t he?

Victor: Wow, Roger’s so passionate about research.

Victor: Ah, Kate. Would you mind telling me a little lie?

Kate: What? Well, I hate you Victor.

Victor: Yes, it's a lie! Wow, I can see them like this, that's amazing.

Harrison: Don't get excited, old man!

Ellis: ...Hehe, it looks like fun.

Ellis: Hey, Jude. Shall we switch places again?

Jude: Ain’t happenin’, I’ll never do that again.

…..To be continued?

[Master List]

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