#oh also. it says this on my pinned but i have in fact shifted before

[thetxtdevil]

Scrub Nurse

Nurse!Yeonjun x Doctor!Reader

summary: After the nurse makes you look like a fool in surgery in your opinion, you get into an argument that leads to the nurse putting you into your place.

content: smut, hospital setting (if you don't like anything correlating to blood and anything medical don't read), descriptions of surgery, dom.yeonjun, sub.fem.reader, pinning, restraining, spanking, doggy style, manhandling, and the slightest dacryphilia ?, public sex? kinda

word count: 2.2k

au note: took my sweet time with this one hope you like it, and credit to @aduh0308 for help/support.

A metronome of an EKG echoes through the quiet sterile room, the environment is properly lit, agonizingly bright, but perfect to focus on the patient in front of you. The silence of the room is broken by the first words “Alright everybody we have a Mr. Johnson, a 65 year old, white male presenting with a lovely pulmonary embolism, now let's get this clot out shall we?”

You turn your head to your scrub nurse, glancing down the man’s hand already hovering over the iodine packet and sponge. Your palm reaches out above the patient, “Iodine please, Yeonjun.” The solution lands in your hands firmly, not a chance for it to slip and fall out of the sterile field. That’s how good the scrub nurse was, Yeonjun, the whole surgical staff’s favorite. He has been a scrub nurse ever since he graduated nursing school, long before your surgical internship. Never missed a shift, never made a mistake, always a trustworthy coworker, and there was no way you were going to deny it. You also couldn’t deny that he was unbelievably handsome, his warm brown eyes squint signifying a smile under the surgical mask, little dark hair flipping up from under his white and black starry scrub cap.

Yeonjun is smart, handsome, kind, but also a man-whore. First day of internship rumors circulated in your small group that he hooked up with everybody. You’d roll your eyes and deny the fact, first, that's none of their business, second, we’re all too professional to be hooking up with our coworkers and “doing it” in the hospital. Oh how wrong you were, when little innocent surgeon wannabe you walks into a supply closet to witness your surgical resident getting fucked dumb by none other than, Nurse Yeonjun.

It was a hard pill to swallow because he wasn’t the only one. Not only did you have to learn the extensive material of saving lives but you also had to dodge the overly attractive men working with you. You didn’t know if it was all the sad deaths or the burnout but you felt like they were everywhere fucking everybody. You soon learn that's the way of a hospital, a business that wants your money, employees that work until they are their own cause of death, and it is a building full of horny people.

You bite your lip in concentration and the fact that the man who you’ve seen his naked ass a few too many times is standing so close. Eyes locked on the open chest of the patient, your skilled eyes can easily identify the pulmonary artery and the exact spot of the clot. One by one a tool is given to you, “Yank-” the suctioning tool is already in your grasp.

You look at the man, “The yankauer, Doctor” he says as you know that he has a smirk under that mask.

“Getting a little ahead of yourself aren’t you?” you say looking back into the cavity suctioning out the loose embolus.

“No doctor, ok maybe a little.”

“Are you bored of me, nurse?” Yeonjun’s eyebrow quirks up when you exaggerate his title. He leaves the conversation at that so you can continue to focus on the surgery. The clot was removed, blood flow restored, the chest cavity was put back into place and it was now time to close the incision site. “Staples.” Yeonjun says with the item waiting in his hand.

“No, no I want sutures.” Yeonjun shifts on his feet and stares at you. With a little nudge forward of the tool you stare at the item contemplating. Suddenly you feel your feet ache from hours of standing your brain trying to tell you to go for the faster option in front of you. This is a big incision and the healing rate is quicker if staples are used. Rolling your eyes, your gloved hand stretches out, “staples.”

%%%

You’re sitting down outside the operating rooms, taking your little sterile booties off. You couldn’t help but stare at your scrub nurse, perfect posture at the rolling desk-cart, already chewing his habit gum while charting. You didn’t like how he was telling you what tools you needed in surgery, irritated at each crack of bubble and his sharp jaw clenching at every chew, but you again couldn’t deny how handsome he looked. Picking yourself off the bench grabbing your white coat on the way to Nurse Yeonjun. His hair in his face looking through his eyelashes sees you in front of him all the while a big pink bubble pops. Taking a deep breath for encouragement you ask, “so do you want to grab a drink after the next operation?”

“Thanks for asking but I’m meeting with the other scrub nurses”

“Ah yes you nurses always like to stick together” you say as you pick at the ridges of the desk, annoyed, “and always have to prove themselves better than doctors.”

Another gum bubble pops, Yeonjun leans over the desktop getting closer to you, “Aw does precious not like that I know how to do her job better?”

You straighten your posture trying to look bigger than the man, “That’s doctor to you” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “now nurse I want you to get this surgery prepared in time”

“Well doctor princess, I’ll do that for you if you show your nurses a little more respect.”

You’re shaking of anger at his low judgment, the man smirks looking around the room. Your eyes follow to find out that everybody’s attention is on you two. Yeonjun logs out of the computer, spitting his gum out in the trash, before grabbing your wrist dragging you to the nearest empty on-call room. “W-what are you do-ah” you words interrupted by gasp as Yeonjun pushes you into the door.

“I’ve seen more than your little doctor eyes have seen, I might not have many years of education but I have the experience” Yeonjun spits his words, face so close, one hand on your waist while the other locks the door behind you.

“I’ve gone through years of school to not get orders from a nurse.” The nurse scoffs, “We’ll see about that.”

Yeonjun’s plush lips crash into yours so rushed and harsh your head bangs on the wooden door. He tugs away your scrub cap, unraveling your hair at the same time. You squirm at the feeling of the man’s hands finding their way under all your layers of clothing to rub the soft skin of your waist. Your hands reach up to drag your fingers through Yeonjun’s hair but he was not letting that happen. His big hands grab both arms, pinning them over your head making you squirm more as he grinds his half hard dick against your core.

“I know what you say about me,” you whine out of confusion, his lips grazing yours as he speaks, “words get around fast around here, words like you calling me a man-whore.” You would feel embarrassed but it was hard when his soft lips felt so nice on your neck while his cock so easily felt thanks to the thin material of the scrub pants. “But I know those words don’t mean shit especially when I see you drooling over me,” your half lidded eyes look into his dark ones, “just like that precious, even when you’re in someone else’s heart you look at me like you want me to fuck you right there.”

One hand still pinning your hands as the other slips under your seafoam green pants. His long fingers slip into your panties making your hips jut out. Yeonjun hisses when he feels your smooth slick making it easy to slide a finger in your cunt. Moans muffled by his lips as his fingers stretch you out and curl making your legs weak. So weak that your knees actually buckle, stumbling a bit before catching yourself. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Yeonjun, “what’s the matter pretty, can’t handle a few fingers in your cunt.”

“I-its the ah- long surgery” you try to deny the fact that the nurse has you melting.

“If that's so, let me put you in a different position.”

Yeonjun’s fingers slip out of your folds to be pushed into his mouth. You’d admire the filthy sight before but his other hand had you whipping around to the uncomfortable cots. The springs squeak as you fall into the cushion, looking up at the man watching as his fingers pop out of his mouth. He tugs the green scrub top over your head, “so a pretty surgeon can’t handle my fingers standing up but she can stand for hours on end, that’s cute,” he kisses your shoulder as his hand unhooks your bra, “wonder if you’ll be able to stand after I’m done with you.”

Your heart rate was pulsating, if you were hooked up to a heart monitor they surely would call an emergency code blue on you. Yeonjun knows it too, studying your body, noticing your rise of breathing rate and his lips on your neck could clearly feel your carotid pulse heightened. Taking your bottoms off, he smiles at the big damp patch on your underwear slipping them off to meet your pants on the floor. “Flip over, ass up,” you do what he said, losing the battle of superiority quickly much to Yeonjun’s surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. Taking off his clothes, he licks his red lips appreciating the sight of your plump ass and pussy patiently waiting for him. His hand slides up your inner thigh, listening closely to your whimpers as his finger tips touch your wet folds once more. You bite your lip trying to stop yourself from telling Yeonjun to do something instead you move your hips against his fingers.

 “Be patient” he hisses as he slaps your cunt, you cry out from the sensitivity, “aren’t good doctors supposed to be patient?” You whine, Yeonjun’s fingers tease your folds making you wetter to the point your dripping down your thighs. His other hand grazes your ass cheek, gripping them to spread you open every now and then. Yeonjun couldn’t deny that you were also one of the most attractive coworkers. He actually has been wanting to see you like this for awhile ever since you caught him during your internship. It was common for doctors to downgrade the nurses and he has learned to ignore it, but he took it as a chance to get you riled up. Looking at your ass then to your face, your neck stretching so your eyes can meet his, pleading, “Please Yeonjun.” Yeonjun reaches next to your head into the drawers knowing all too well that there was a convenient box of condoms in it. You lick your lips watching the man slide the condom on his stiff pink dick. You gasp again when he smacks your ass before positioning himself. Face falling into the flat pillow as Yeonjun pushes his fat cock slowly into you, stretching your hole deliciously, agonizingly.

“Mmm- more” your muffle getting another slap on your cheek. Yeonjun’s head was thrown back relishing in the feeling of your tight pussy around him, “so needy n’ so tight.” His slow movements quicken into your core making the cot’s springs squeak as loud as your moaning, head bobbing as the cheap bed moves in its spot. He leans over pecking your shoulder, “making me think you don’t do this often” he chuckles, “no wonder you’re so tense.”

You felt more tense right now since his dick was pounding harshly into you. Your insides were rearranged so much so you didn’t realize how loud you were being. "Gonna fuck you til you can't even remember your name, let alone operate like you're supposed to." Everything in your body felt like it was burning the stretch of your cunt, the friction of your folds, the teasing rubs of his hands on your ass. Each groan and hiss he made had you clenching around him. You whine, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “J-jun ‘m cummin.”

“Hmm I don’t know if I should let you.” he teases knowing there’s no way you could hold yourself back.

“Please, oh god- please” you scream out stretching your neck again to show your teary eyes. Yeonjun’s eyes roll back loving how fucked you looked. You came on his cock before he could say anything else resulting in Yeonjun thrusting hard to reach his high cumming into the wrap. “Shit” you both say in unison and collapse on the small bed close to its breaking point.

Yeonjun kisses your shoulder once again slipping out of you, throwing away the dirty condom. You rolled onto your back brushing your sweaty hair out of your face. Stunned by a passionate kiss on the lips by Yeonjun, “We should do this again sometime, Doctor.”

“I’ll put that in your orders, Nurse Yeonjun.”

%%%

Later that night Yeonjun stands in the operating room waiting for the surgeon to arrive at the table. He looks over his perfectly placed tools checking yet knowing he has everything in place for the surgery. The quiet room is disturbed by the air tight door opening by the surgeon. You walk in with clean hands, Yeonjun’s eyes scan your form as you dress into a gown and glove. It was dark in the room for the type of surgery but he still noticed the slight limp in your strut. Only he knew why you were in a bit discomfort, well, him and the others that were around the on-call room.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

currently eating drywall while reading your Gaz pushup fic. I got an idea, Gaz pinning reader down under him and doing push-ups like that?

this is playing with fire anon.

1,843 / 15 / takes place immediately after doing push-ups with Gaz and distracting Gaz as he's counting reps

...

The next day, Gaz gives no indicator as to how many push-ups he's doing, and you're struggling to keep track. Your focus lies elsewhere--between his broad shoulders and muscular back; the way his t-shirt fits so tightly to his skin.

"You're not counting my reps this time, I take it?" he asks dryly.

You stiffen, in the middle of warmup stretches yourself. "Why, should I? Are you going to get distracted and miscount again?"

"I don't miscount." He pushes up. His biceps look like carved stone under the strain. "I just ignore people who try to get my attention while I'm working."

"Maybe I should lay under you this time so you can't ignore me." You chuckle absently at your own joke without fully registering the implications of what you just said. You also don't notice Gaz falter in his reps for the first time ever.

He buckles down onto one elbow. "I'm... sorry? Come again?"

Your brain catches up with your mouth just as you're trying to twist your left knee up and over your right hip. "Wait, I didn't mean like that. Or I did, but not in the way that, like, just with your chest-- wait, fuck--"

Still mid-stretch, his hand closes around your ankle.

"No, really, come again."

He pulls, dragging you under him, and you find yourself on your back, the workout mat stinging against the skin there. He hovers over you, his hands and knees caging you in.

"Lay under me?" he says. "Because that's what it sounds like that's what you're saying. Is that what you want? To be under me?"

You blink up at him. This shouldn't feel as intimate as it does. Gaz is your workout buddy. You've been closer to him. Regularly.

It's the eye contact, isn't it? He looks hungry. Your gym buddy shouldn't be looking like he wants to devour you. He leans in closer, his eyes roving over you in a way you've never seen him do before. Obviously Gaz is an attractive guy--ridiculously so. But you've never seen him look at you like this. Your whole body is tingling with awareness.

You know you can put an end to this right now with a single comment. The fact that you don't want to is what makes his closeness feel new. If he were to lean down and kiss you right here on the gym mat, you would welcome it.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Gaz shifts again, leaning further over you. "I said, is that what you want?"

Your mouth is dry. Your tongue darts out go wet your lips and his eyes snap down to watch.

Your self-control wavers.

"Yeah," you tell him shortly. "Maybe I do."

Gaz's jaw sets. His body is tensing like a coiled spring. He is desperate to touch you. "Maybe isn't good enough," he grits out. His hand slides up from your hip to your waist, slipping under your shirt. "I want to hear yes."

nsfw ⬇

Your vision fogs a bit as his fingers graze the skin under your breasts. When he dragged you under him, you realize, the friction of the floor against your clothes rolled them up. Now your shorts and top are riding very high on your frame. He sees the way you're trembling, your hips writhing subtly under his touch. You're so exposed. It's so wrong. But he's enjoying the hell out of the view.

His hand disappears and he drops to his elbows, his hard body pressing up against yours. Your breath hitches. He chuckles. His mouth strays to your ear. 

"Easy," he breathes. "I'm not asking to have my way with you right here on the floor. I'm just asking for permission to touch you a little, yeah?"

Your heart clenches in your chest, catching oddly. "Oh, right. Y-Yeah."

"Sorry, are you disappointed?" His hand drifts back up your body, going straight to the elastic band of your sports bra. "Did you want me to take you right here? In this very public gym?"

You squirm as his thumb begins to work its way under the elastic. Your hands go to his chest, a rush of endorphins surging through you at the slight give of his form pectoral muscles under your fingers.

"I didn't say that," you tell him, voice still wavering more than you want it to. "Don't put words in my mouth."

"Oh, no, I'm just thinking out loud. You really need to watch your phrasing, boss. You're gonna make me think you're not as innocent as you like to act." His thumb rubs in slow circles over your soft skin as he speaks. "I’m just thinking about how cute you are when you're all flustered. And how pretty your eyes are. And how you’re not denying it.”

"You're the one who-- ah--" Your retort dies on your lips as his hand slips under your bra. His fingers run over your nipple, the rough texture of his callouses against the many nerve endings there making you jump.

He lets out a low groan of satisfaction when you respond so quickly to his touch. His forehead falls to your collarbone, trying to focus on you, on the sounds you're making. You're igniting his whole body. He squeezes your breast roughly, unable to help himself. He squeezes again when you squeak and he realizes just how much you like this, too. He tenses more and more with every breathless little jump and squeal.

You're barely aware of your own reactions. All you register is his hand on you and the heat in your face spreading down your neck and racing to your core.

His knee slides between your legs. It tears a ragged gasp from your throat. That only seems to encourage him, and he presses his body down harder over yours.

"You're so sensitive," he breathes out.

He grinds his knee up into you even more shamelessly, and you fist a handful of his tank top. "Wait," you protest. "Someone could walk in."

"So?" He growls, his voice suddenly rough. "Let them walk in and see. I'm not going to pretend I'm doing anything other than what you want--" His breath gets heavier as he shifts again, his knee easing back. Fuck, you're right. Someone is going to walk in any second. It's incredible nobody has already. This would be a compromising position to be found in, to put it very lightly. He's a senior officer over you. It looks bad for him to be over you.

Gaz forces his hand to still and pulls it out from under your shirt, swallowing. He sits up, dragging his gaze slowly down your body before he finally locks eyes with you again. Your clothes are in disarray; your chest is heaving; you're looking at him with such a debauched look in your eye he has to clench his hands into fists to keep them off you. Jesus. He's only touched one nipple and you already look like he's been fucking you. How are you real?

He grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet as he stands. "Come on, up."

"Where are we going?" you ask as he walks across the floor with your hand still in his grip. "Why did you stop?"

"We're going somewhere private." His grip stays firm as he drags you out through the front entrance. "And I stopped," he adds, "because you're going to get me in trouble if I keep going where we were."

"Wait." You tug his hand back as he pulls you past the entrance to the women's locker room and showers. "In here."

Gaz almost trips as your grip pulls him back.

"What?" His voice is an exasperated whisper.

But at your persistence, he lets you tow him over to the women's locker showers.

"What?" he repeats, this time quieter as he opens the door. "Are you--?"

But you step in after him, shutting the door behind you. Gaz's eyebrows go up.

"I guess you are."

"A lot less foot traffic in here. Enough time for a little hands-on training, right?" you say, pulling him further into the room. You start up one of the shower heads near the door, hoping the noise will cover up what you want to do. Then you strip your tank top and bra off in one swift motion, grabbing the hem of his shirt immediately after.

Gaz's throat goes dry at the sight of your exposed chest. He drinks in your body, his eyes roaming slowly and possessively. "Jesus, your body is-- fuck."

He grabs your hips and pushes you against the wash-tile in the nearest stall. You gasp at the cold of the tile on your naked back.

He runs his hands up your waist, groping your tits unabashedly. "We're way past hands-on training, love. That's your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yeah. Yours." Gaz's voice is rough with arousal. He hefts you up, grunting in satisfaction when your legs fasten around his waist. "You started this. You're the one who suggested laying under me. You didn’t have to say that. Did you think I was going to say no?"

You give him what is--somehow, even as you're naked from the waist up with your legs around him--a shy glance. "I didn't think you'd say yes."

His hands move up your legs, massaging your thighs then moving to your hips again. The way your body grips him, the way your legs squeeze him tightly to you--he's loving every goddamn inch of you.

"What do you expect a starving man to do when he's presented with a three-course meal right on the table?"

You scoff. "You are not starving."

"I'm starving for you," he grits out. "Don't be obtuse. God damn. You have no idea how often I’ve thought about getting my hands on you.” He rubs his fingers along the sensitive skin just over your waistband. “You have no idea just how much I’ve wanted to--”

He slides his hands up your body again, his fingertips tracing smooth undersides of your breasts. Even now he's holding back and his restraint is obvious. He could have you right now, pinned to the wall.

"I wanna devour you, you hear me? Every inch."

Your stomach flutters as his palms reach your ass and squeeze. You can't believe Gaz of all people wants you like this. "Is this gonna mess up our relationship as gym partners?"

"Probably. Definitely." He bites your earlobe the same place he bit it yesterday. This time, he laves his tongue against it. His breath is labored in your ear. "If you don't want that to happen. I need you to tell me." He rolls his hips against yours, groaning at the feeling of your heat through your thin workout shorts. "Right... right now."

"Is... is it wrong that I kinda want you to ruin it for the rest of time?"

"Good." He shifts one hand to run his fingers over the crux of your thighs from behind, making your back arch. "Because I'm going to destroy it beyond all reason."

...

part 1 / part 2 / [part 3] / part 4 / part 5

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Can I please ask for a smut Damon request using this picture. Imagine distracting Damon whilst he’s concentrating on a phone call to ric and he punishes you for being a naughty girl for interrupting his call and pins you to the bed . Sorry I’m just a very naughty minded girl when it comes to Damon 😜

Apologise

a/n: thank you so much for the request i loved writing this!! hope you enjoy! <3 (also, i'm so sorry it took so long)

pairing: damon x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected sex

word count: 644

You chuckle against Damon's skin, your lips dragging along his stomach as he squirms beneath you, his phone pressed to his ear.

You can hear Alaric's muffled voice coming through the speaker as you hook your fingers under the waistband of Damon's jeans, prompting him to curse at you under his breath.

But he doesn't make a move to stop you, only attempting to stifle a groan as he keeps his phone to his ear.

And you find yourself stifling a laugh when you hear Alaric ask if everything's okay.

"Yeah, Ric," Damon says, his voice strained as he squirms beneath you. "Everything's great. Nothing wrong here."

You find it all the more amusing by how hard he's trying to cover, despite the fact that he's practically groaning into the phone, one of his hands absentmindedly playing with your hair.

Once you manage to pull his pants off along with his boxers, you waste no time in wrapping your hand around his length, eliciting a startled sigh from him, his hips jerking into you from the contact.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You hear Ric ask him, and it makes you chuckle.

Damon glares at you as he speaks.

"Yeah, Ric, everything's fine." He assures him again, readjusting himself slightly beneath you. "But you know what, I uh─I might have to call you back."

Before you're even able to wrap your lips around him, he's threading a hand into your hair, pulling you up so that you're face to face with him now.

"Were you not aware that I was on a call?" He asks, pressing his mouth into a line as he looks at you.

"I was aware."

"Hm." He hums, twirling a finger through your hair. "What am I gonna do with you?"

Before you have a chance to offer him any suggestions, he's flipping you onto your back, his fingers snaking around your throat as he hovers over you.

"As much as I loved your hand around my dick." He smirks, his free hand trailing down your body. "You really shouldn't interrupt my calls like that."

"What're you gonna do about it?"

He doesn't offer you an answer, and instead you feel his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your jeans.

"Now, you've been a bad bad girl," he tuts, pressing a finger against you through the fabric of your panties. "And bad girls get punished."

You laugh. "And how is this a punishment?"

"Oh, you'll see." He smirks, sliding his hand inside your panties, his fingers swirling around your clit.

You sigh, throwing your head back into the pillows when he pushes a finger inside of you.

Except, he doesn't move, instead choosing to remain painfully still, a wicked smirk on his face as he looks down at you.

"Damon," you whine, looking down to where his hand had disappeared in your jeans. "Come on."

"What? I'm not doing anything."

"Exactly, you're not doing anything."

"What would you like me to do?" He asks, a knowing grin on his face as he moves his hand ever so slightly against you. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," you sigh, nodding your head at him.

"Apologise."

"What?"

He smirks. "You interrupted my call. Apologise."

You continue to resist, shifting uncomfortably beneath him, but he won't let up.

"If you apologise," he says, slipping his hand out of your jeans now. "Then I'll give you what you want."

"Okay, I'm sorry," you finally say, giving in.

"That's right."

And with that, he's flipping you over onto your front, his hands already tugging your jeans off. And within seconds, he's inside you, already moving at a brutal pace as he holds you up, rough fingers digging into your ass.

"God," you moan, your mouth twisting into a smile as he fucks you. "I'm so so sorry. So sorry."

"And I forgive you."

[Main Masterlist]

[uhzuku]

On my knees 🧎🏽‍♀️Begging🤲🏻 for more shounya fics😼

ur on ur knees n so is he!! cw hybrids, gn reader w a pussy, oral, and prev est relationships <33 also set pre eri izuku n shinsou !!

“Ohhhh fuck~”

Your breathy sighs and low moans almost echo through the rooms, your toes curling as your body soaks in the feelings being wrought out of you by the feeling of Shouta’s mouth between your legs. 

A desperate fiend when it came to oral, Shouta was a greedy creature. Whenever the opportunity arose for him to have a taste of what lay between your legs, he metaphorically ( and sometimes physically ) lunged for it — like today. After a long day of you being at work, he’d been impatient for you to arrive home, and he’d been very annoyed when you’d swept past him with nothing but a grunted, “C’mon.” He’d been tempted to ignore the word, to ignore you like he hadn’t in almost a year, but begrudgingly he’d followed with his thick tail swishing angrily behind him only to be surprised by the sight of you sitting on the bed with your legs spread and your cunt bare to him. 

“Make me cum, kitty,” you’d said tiredly, and he’d leapt at the opportunity. He’d taken his place between your legs, his formerly pinned-back ears pushed forward and his tail moving back-and-forth behind for an entirely different reason as he’d pressed as closely to you as possible before licking a wide stripe up the length of your slit from your taint to your clit. 

That had been an hour ago, and here you still were with your cat hybrid on his knees and feasting on the slit between your legs, slobbering all over your cunt as he lapped at it like a man possessed with his thick arms hooked around your thighs as you lay back with an arm cast over your eyes, your now revealed chest heaving as you felt your fourth orgasm approaching. You’d discarded your shirt a little more than half an hour ago when things started feeling far too hot, and the sight of your bare chest had spurred on new excitement from your partner. 

“More,” he slurs into your dripping cunt, “More. Mine. Mine.”

“Fuuuuuck yeah, it’s yours,” you moan, your free hand burying itself in his hair as your hips start instinctively rutting up into his face. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck — c’mon, m’gonna cum-!”

Nipping and sucking and licking and biting just the way he knows you like, Shouta moans into your sensitive pussy as a new small gush of wetness fills his mouth as you creep closer to the edge. 

Mine, he thinks greedily, his pupils blown and eyes darker than usual as he attempts to bury himself in the taste of you, Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine. 

His ears flick ever so slightly as the pitch of your gasps and moans shift above him, and he makes sure to keep at the pace and pressure that had gotten you here as they slowly reach a peak amd you start calling out for him, sitting up a little and clutching his face to your slick cunt. He doesn’t mind at all, more than pleased by the fact that his face is so buried in it that all he can taste and smell is you. It’s like a dream come true — his dream, anyway. 

“Cumming, cumming, cumming — oh God, Sho’, please!” you wail, your entire body trembling with small convulsions as you cum again. He smiles into you, absolutely desperate for what was once again gushing from your hole and into his waiting mouth. He doesn’t stop tasting you, almost a mindless drone as the motions overtake his mind and he melts into them, and it’s only when you try to push him away while speaking that he wakes up from it. 

“Shouta, I need to order dinner for us,” you finally say weakly, and he whines a little and shakes his head ‘no’. 

“Wanna — Wanna be good,” he grunts into your hole, lapping at it slowly and relishing the way your thighs twitch around his head. “More. Want more. I can be good-!”

“Let me order dinner then,” you retort, unable to hide the way your thighs jump from oversensitivity as he keeps curling his rough tongue around your engorged clit, and he shakes his head in denial again. 

“I have dinner,” he replies snarkily, “Right here in front of me,” before attempting to dive back into you. 

You laugh softly, placing your toes and the ball of your foot against his bare chest and pushing him away just enough that he sits back on his feet. “Down boy,” you murmur, and he whines lightly. You just ignore it, sitting up and reaching for your cell-phone then tapping in your passcode as he huffs at you. 

“I think American food sounds nice tonight,” you hum to yourself, and Shouta feels his mouth begin to water. You glance up at him, a playful glint in your eye that he doesn’t understand for a moment, then say, “Oh, you don’t want anything, right?”

“Huh?!”

“I mean, since you have dinner here and all,” you tease, and he groans out a growl that has you laughing. “Okay, okay — I know the drill, no getting between you and food.”

[cathedral-of-sinners]

Urges From Within

Kinktober Day 2 - A/B/O & Floor Sex + Diluc

Genre: Smut (MDNI)

CW: sub!gn!reader (no pronouns/genitalia used), reader is called pretty once, my omega and my love, omega!reader, alpha!diluc, mating press, two sections might not make sense/jump around suddenly idk i don't think it's too bad but still

Instincts knew no bounds, Diluc now realized this indisputable fact. Honestly, he should’ve known he couldn't handle your scent circling around him for eight hours straight. Especially in an enclosed space like the tavern.

He'd hoped that the accumulation of each omega in the room would drown you out; he's always found the others suffocating, but you, oh you were just downright intoxicating. He could pick you out from a sea of people if he had to. He’s lucky he only spilled two drinks while mixing today, once when you brushed past him behind the counter and the second when you returned the empty glasses on your tray.

Diluc now knows for sure he’s unable to resist your pleasantly distracting scent, but he also sees that he’s realized this too late.

"D-diluc! Ah, slow down, pl-please!" the delicious mix of pleasure and pain swirls within the pit of your stomach, drowning out everything else. The chill of the hardwood floor has long since faded, replaced and overruled by the heated touch of your skin and sweat. Your lover, despite your request, keeps his unrelenting pace, hips snapping against yours.

"You were begging me to go faster not long ago, so I am." Is all he says, taking a moment to readjust his position. The sudden shift has you moaning, his cock running over just the right spot. Faintly you can hear him mutter there's the spot before starting up his thrusts again, aiming for that sweet spot. You're tossed between staring up at the ceiling, off to the side or right at his gorgeous face, his hair falling and framing him picture-perfectly. When the tip of his cock connects with his new target though you don't get to choose where you're looking, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Diluc's fingers gently stroke your cheek, a husk to his voice, "my omega, so pretty for me, spread out and taking my cock deep," he whispers, pressing forward a little more on your folded legs, enough so he can plant a kiss on your forehead. "But they're also so, so needy. I couldn't even take you to the bedroom before you were pulling my clothes off."

"Perhaps I should punish you for that?" The mere idea of your orgasm being withheld from you easily has tears forming in your eyes, and seeing this, Diluc tilts your head to face him, shushing you. "My love, it's alright, just be good for me and I'll give you exactly what you want. I promise."

Nodding, you grip your legs a little tighter, taking care to keep them pinned close to you. Smiling, your lover picks up the pace, the sounds of your love and lust echoing in the winery. You can feel yourself lose the ability to think coherently, babbling only about how good it is, how good he is.

Diluc knows he's close, he can feel it in the tightening of his stomach, the knot growing tighter and tighter, begging to snap. Just a little longer and he'll bring you both to your desired release.

"Di-Diluc, cl-close, I'm close," you manage to say, moaning.

"Me too," burying his face in the crook of your neck, the redhead inhales deeply, taking in your scent. Addicting, intoxicating, the same irresistible scent that captured him when you first met, the same one that sent him into his rut and you in turn into your heat. And it's the same scent that tips him over the edge.

"C-cumming, I'm cumming," and no soon after does Diluc pump his cum in you, warm and filling, moaning right in your ear. You too reach your high, his cock having hit just the right spot, resulting in you clenching around him and leaving no room for him to pull out.

Taking a moment to collect himself, Diluc helps you stretch your legs back to normal before laying on his side, keeping you tucked close as to not let you feel the oncoming cold now that the moment is over.

It's silent for the first few seconds, his warm palms massaging at your skin, until he decides to quietly pipe up, "I've always thought you smelt so good, did you know that?" he questions, loosening his hold just a little so he's not crushing you.

You can't help but laugh, resting your cheek against his arm, "I had an inkling, my love." Tilting your head to press a kiss to the nearest place you could, you continue, "here's my secret though, I think you smell pretty delectable yourself. I can never get enough of it - I can never get enough of you."

"I as well," he tells you. You both rest a little more before rising from the ground and cleaning yourselves and the foyer up. You didn't dare leave the mess you made for the maids to clean up when they got back from their night off.

Tag list: @rain-soaked-sun || @the-purity-pen || @stygianoir || @the-massive-simp || @londonstylesxx

If you'd liked to be tagged in any future works lmk via comment, DM or my askbox!

[thosewildcharms]

Hi:) thanks to twol I fell in love with richonne and im watching twd and I couldn't tell when exactly they fell in love when do you think it was? When did they realize it? (I feel like rick knew it long before her in that 6x10ep he was like "finally" when they kissed)

hi! first of all let me just say I love the fact that you started watching because of richonne lol THEIR POWER. how are you enjoying both shows??

second of all, thank you so much for asking me this question, because it is one of my favorite things to think about.

I'm gonna start with michonne because I think it's way more clear cut for her. I have always personally believed that she fell in love with rick when he bit the shit out of that guy joe's throat in order to protect carl (and michonne and daryl for that matter). danai recently said this as well, - that while this was a subconscious turning point for michonne. I think this tracks, considering the show goes out of its way to use this moment to draw a direct comparison between rick and mike, michonne's ex/dead boyfriend. in her scene with carl in the immediate aftermath of the bite scene, she tells carl that it's important to know how her first son died: because his father gave up, got high and was too weak and neglectful to protect his child. she, essentially, tells carl that rick is the exact opposite of that, and that he shouldn't think badly of rick because of what he did (and in turn, shouldn't think badly of himself either, which is lovely), that instead of thinking of rick as a monster, he should know that what rick did was necessary. for michonne to lose her first child that way, only to see rick find a way to protect his family with both hands (literally) tied behind his back? of course she fell in love with him then. that moment on the tracks with rick right afterwards ("I'm okay"/"I know"/"how?/ "because I'm okay too") is also a direct comparison to lori. lori was horrified when she learned that rick killed shane. michonne, by contrast, is just grateful. she does not judge him or look at him any differently. she just loves him for it. and the way danai played it, I think you can see it on her face in that scene.

I do agree with danai that this was subconscious for michonne until the scene on the couch in 6x10. the look on her face is such a blatant "oh" moment straight out of fanfiction that it's pretty clear (to me, anyway) that while she was already in love with him this was the first time she allowed herself to see it.

rick I think is a bit harder to pin down. it's well documented by pretty much everyone and their mother (including but not limited to: the richonne fandom, yvette nicole brown, norman reedus, andrew's lincoln's mom, etc) that rick was, at the very least attracted to michonne and looking her up and down as early as the prison. but, I think he fell in love with her when they reunited after the prison fell, when he saw that she was able to reach carl in a way that he himself could not. a long standing concern for rick at that point was trying to preserve what was left of carl's innocence, and it was something rick struggled with due to his own mental health issues/his responsibilities as a leader. so to see michonne break through to carl, and even make him laugh on the train tracks and act like a kid again? I think that was everything to rick.

rick basically, quite literally actually, asks her to co-parent carl with him at that point (the "if you need a break/I'm done taking breaks" scene), and from then on treats her not just as his equal within the larger the group, but as a co-parent in the smaller family unit between himself, michonne, carl, and judith. he makes decisions for the entire group based on her opinion and her needs (such as walking to washington solely because she asks him to, and then agreeing with her decision to trust aaron and go to alexandria). it's where the shift starts for him.

but, I'm also inclined to think that this shift was subconscious for rick too, up until the moment on the couch, or maybe just before it. I say this mostly do the jessie arc when they first get to alexandria, which while sloppily done, basically boiled down to rick projecting all of his unresolved lori-shaped guilt onto a lori-shaped stand in. I don't think he could be consciously aware of being in love with michonne until all of those issues were resolved. notably, richonne get together the episode right after jessie dies, so I think that tracks. I agree though, that the way andy played that moment on the couch be seen as a finally moment. so my best guess is that he consciously realized he was in love with michonne during the (two month? is that right?) time gap betweeen 6x09 and 6x10. you can see in the opening of 6x10 that rick, michonne, and carl are really overtly domestic and settled with each other, so I think it's totally plausible he was aware of his own feelings by that episode before the couch scene. BUT I also think an argument can be made for him also having his own oh moment on the couch too, the minute he touched her hand. I think that's debatable.

anyway, I'm so sorry for writing this novel lmao. when do you think they fell in love with each other?

[nats-bottom]

KJ - Drunk Pt 2

Summary: While out on their outing to the bar, Kelly and reader chat and have some laughs

Pairings: Kelly Jones and Reader

Warnings: slight panic attack, a little homophobia

Notes:

I also have accounts on Wattpad and AO3! The users there are @ paige_vers

Please give me requests! You can submit them here or on my insta, @ scarlettsoutset

ᨖᨖೱᨖ⧗ᨖⴵᨖ🕷️ᨖⴵᨖ⧗ᨖೱᨖᨖ

"See you tonight!" Kelly says excitedly. She gives me a smile, then walks away to her assistant. I watch her hips sway back and forth as she walks away. Damn she's hot. 

I get back to work, the day dragging on as I wait for tonight's adventures.

LATER THAT NIGHT

I arrive back at my apartment around 6:30 and immediately get ready for my date. Is it a date? I hope it's a date. What if she doesn't think of it as a date, and just wants to ask me more questions? Oh god I hope not.

I try not to let these thoughts bother me, but that's all that seems to swirl around my head. I take a seat on my bed and put my hands on my heart, feeling it beat faster and faster. I feel the sweat drip down my forehead, and a little gets in my eyes. 

"Ow!" I exclaim. I get up off my bed and grab a washcloth from the hall closet, getting it wet and wiping my eye. I don't care about ruining my makeup at this point, since I was going to re-do it for tonight anyway. I hold the wet washcloth over my eyes, letting the coldness both calm me down and soothe the sting. 

I remove the washcloth from my eyes and look up at myself in the mirror. My eyes have black all around them and my face is still wet, from water and tears. I take a clean towel and wipe my face dry, cleaning off the smeared makeup as well. I take a a few deep breaths and just stare at the face in the mirror. Once I recompose myself, I walk back to my bedroom to pick out some clothes for tonight.

There are many options. I could go for a dress, one that is a little lower cut and ends right above my knees. Or I could be a little more casual and wear pants. Something I'm still not allowed to wear at work somehow. After debating back and forth, I decided to go with the dress. It's casual enough, but still nicer. I slip on a pair of heels and re-do my makeup, this time a little nicer, and put on some bright red lipstick. I let my hair down and style it in some curls, not too tight, but not too loose.

I look at the clock and see that it is 7:30 already. I grab all my stuff and lock up before heading down to my car. The ride there is nice and calm, which is exactly what I need since I am still very nervous about what this night will bring and exactly what it entails. 

I arrive at the bar a few minutes early, but head inside anyway. I sit down at a table and tap my fingers on the table while I wait. Not two minutes later, I see her walk in. She's wearing a dress as well, but it's fancier than the one she wore to work today. She has her hair pinned up, with a few strands left out to frame her face. She looks drop dead gorgeous. I wave my hand to her, signaling my location. She smiles and walks over. 

"Hello y/n, you look pretty hip." Kelly says. 

"Same to you Kelly. You look really mod." I say as Kelly takes a seat opposite of me. 

"So I wanted to ask you some questions if that's ok." Kelly says, placing her left hand inside of her right hand on top of the table.

"Yeah sure." I say, shifting around in my seat, hoping it has nothing to do with my job. If it did, then she would probably bring her assistant, or at least something to write everything down on. But I don't see either, so I think I'm in the clear. 

"So, are you single?"

I looked at her in shock, not expecting that question. I try to analyze her face to see what she means by this question, but can't quite read her. As I'm one not to lie, I answer her honestly, "Yes, I was only in one relationship in college, but that didn't last." I think back to Ellie, and smile. She and I were perfect. There was nothing wrong, except for the fact that we weren't allowed to be together. Trying not to reminisce on the memory of her too long, I focus my attention back on Kelly. She's looking at me, a mix of hope and sadness in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry about that. Was he good to you at least?" Kelly asks.

"Yeah, they were good. We had to break up because their dad found someone for them to marry. Her- um, Their parents didn't know about us." I let out a sigh. I put my head in my hands as I realized that I accidentally let it slip that they were a she. 

I feel a pair of hands take mine and peel them away from my face. I look up and see Kelly look at me with an understanding in her deep, green eyes. 

"You won't tell anyone, will you?" I ask sheepishly and quietly. I stare into her eyes, waiting for a response.

"Of course not. Especially since I'm one myself." She chuckles. She rubs the back of my hands with her thumbs in a comforting manner. "Now tell me what you want to drink and I'll go grab it for us."

"I'll take an old fashioned." I reply, with a smile. I feel a warmness in my heart as she smiles back at me. She gets up and walks to the bar, ordering our drinks. She comes back with our drinks and sits down, putting my drink in front of me. 

"Let me just lay this out, no work talk tonight, okay? Let's just have some fun." Kelly says, putting her hand on mine.

"Sounds amazing." I gush. "Normally at these things all I do is talk about work."

After a few more drinks, and a lot of laughs, we get on the topic of where we've lived.

"Enough about me. Where all have you lived?" I ask.

"Oh I'd rather save that for another time." I smile at the thought of there being another time with her. "But I've picked up a lot of accents though."

"Ooooo, let's hear them!" I say excitedly.

"Well aren't you just the most adorable little junebug!" Kelly says in a deep Southern accent, probably from Alabama somewhere.

"That was amazing! Do another!" I clap my hands excitedly. She continues to speak in a British accent, an Australian accent, and a different Southern accent. She does them all well, well enough that she could've been native to anyone of those places. "Have you really lived in all those places?"

"No, I just watch it on TV."

"Well, you're very good. Really impressive. Makes me wonder what else that mouth can do." I look at her lustfully. I bite my lip, waiting for a response.

"Wouldn't you like to find out." She says, looking up at me through her eyelashes. 

"Well, why don't we go back to my place and figure that out." I say, smirking. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

just read your fic that wxplains how lilia is going to sneak into family day lol. so this interactions takes after that. “Hi Silver! Happy Family Day! Did your mom or dad happen to drop by? I’d love to meet them.” To myself: and now I will finally find out what your last name is heh heh heh!! 😈

[Referencing this fic!]

[Someone actually also made fan art of how everyone else will perceive Lilia in the enchanted gag glasses; you can see that here!]

*Casually redacts Lilia’s Silver’s dad’s eyes* Warning everyone now, you’re going to see redacted Lilia in a lot of the upcoming writing pieces since lots of the requests I got are Lilia-related yes, they involve Mama Spade too 🦇

Fun fact, Super Mario’s full name is “Mario Mario” as of 2015 😂

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Hello. It’s good to see you in high spirits for Family Day.” Silver greeted you with a small smile. “If you’re interested in meeting my father, he’s socializing with some of the other parents."

Silver turned his head, and you followed his line of sight to a small group of adults. You couldn’t immediately tell who was the right man—there was no cap of telling silver hair to tip you off. That’s right, Silver said he was adopted. They wouldn’t look alike.

“Which one is your…” You looked back at the second year—and startled.

A man had suddenly appeared beside Silver.

He took one look at the surprise in your expression and gave an impish grin. "You called for me, and so I have appeared."

His voice, you noticed, was as deep as the darkest night, or an abyss without an end. But it was far from empty—there were unsaid secrets and wisdom threaded in the way he spoke, a sacred and sagely quality to his words.

“You’re…”

"Father." Silver lowered his head in a polite bow. "This is my friend."

"Is that so? Hello, hello! Such a pleasure to meet one of Silver's bosom buddies. Thank you so much for looking after my boy.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all! Silver’s a great guy, he’s very easy to get along with.”

You took a step back and slowly scanned the smooth-talking stranger up and down.

He was a shocking short fellow, with black hair swept into a high ponytail that cascaded past his back. From his deep voice, you’d had anticipated someone more intimidating—hadn’t Silver mentioned his father being a general?—but he moved and spoke with all the care of a gust of wind, liberated from the stuffy suit he wore. The jacket casually laid on his shoulders, too, seemed to come to life and dance with him, relishing the beautiful day.

And his face was…

You rubbed your eyes and looked again, squinting this time.

Something was odd about his face.

You had always known Silver for his strangely iridescent eyes. They shifted color in different lighting, sometimes more pink or blue or purple depending on the time of day. But his father’s features were all jumbled.

Whenever you thought you had something pinned down—the hawkishness of his nose, the shape of his mouth, the color of his eyes—they seemed to change every so slightly. Suddenly the nose was rounder, or his cupid’s bow had sharpened, or his irises had gone from gold to violet to green. Everything seemed blurred, as though you were gazing at him through a heavy veil of fog.

What’s going on here…? Am I not fully awake?

Silver’s dad chuckled lightly. “My, is something the matter? You’re staring at me so intensely.”

"Er, have we met before... sir?" you asked, hesitant. For a moment, you thought you caught Silver's face paling and tensing. "You seem familiar somehow, but I can't put my finger on why."

"No I’m afraid this is our first encounter," Silver's dad said, his every word coated with mirth, "but perhaps some of my charm has rubbed off on my son here. As they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree!"

He dug an elbow into Silver’s side. The knight sighed—but from the twinkle in his crooked half-smile, you could tell it was done in fondness.

“Never mind, must just be me then.” You automatically stuck out your hand. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Mister…?”

This is it!! Hope swelled in your chest. The moment of truth…! I’ll finally know what Silver’s last name is!!

The ponytailed man happily clapped a hand into yours, giving a firm shake. When he smiled, his teeth came into view—the shapes of them inconsistent, just like the rest of his face.

"You can call me Mr. Silver,” he crooned.

“Oh, sure thing—” Your hand went limp as realization suddenly sunk in. "Wait… so that means your son’s full name is…”

Silver Silver?!

“That’s… right,” Silver said carefully. He cast his father a weary look. “Yes. I was named for my hair color, which happens to be the same as my surname.”

“Gosh, no wonder why you never use your last name then!” you cried. “It’s a weird conversation starter to introduce yourself with the same thing twice!”

“Admittedly, I’ve never been too good with naming!” Mr. Silver confessed. He let your hand drop, and straightened his lapels. “But I’m a firm believer that it’s the content of one’s character which determines their worth, rather than the titles they hold.

“Kufufu. I do hope that you and Silver can continue your studies together and become adults of wonderful character someday.”

[ilybeam]

Flowers for Ms. Kang

-

Jake Kim x f!reader

-

Jake Kim stumbles into a flower shop only to find a cute employee working that day.

-

Content Warnings - Crappy flower shop trope, mutual pinning (I think) ,mild cursing, barely proofread

-

A/n - had a lot of trouble writing this one, so I hope y’all enjoy.

—

Jake had been trying to get back into his mothers good graces for a while. After his whole illegal gambling fiasco she only seemed annoyed at him everytime they spoke. It was very apparent she loved him, but it was also apparent that she was disappointed in him. A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Jake.

Maybe flowers might soften his mothers opinion of him.There was this quaint flower shop nearby big deal street that would be absolutely perfect for the job.

-

It was late afternoon when Jake finally got to the shop, the setting sun gave the inside of the shop a beautiful glow.

There isn’t much that can make Jake’s heart rate rise other than a good fight. That’s atleast what jake had thought until he walked through the door. His breath hitched, behind the counter stood a girl around his age who he had never seen before, and she was everything Jake wanted and more. Absolutely gorgeous.

In most instances when Jake met a girl he considered to be attractive he’d become an unapologetic flirt. Winks that made her face flush. Passing touches that made their heart rate quicken. Empty comments that they took as jokes.

But when Jake saw you he felt like a schoolboy with their first crush. Unable to do more then steal a glance or two.

—

You had been scheduled for a closing shift after you finished school today, which you begrudgingly took. I mean you needed the money of course, but you barely got more than 4 customers a day. The shop was unbelievably slow and boring.

So boring in fact that you took up a hobby of daydreaming. Something to pass the time atleast.

-

The last customer you had for the day had stood in front of your flower display for nearly half an hour at this point. He was attractive no doubt, anyone with eyes could notice that fact. But his attire and tattoos also reminded you of a thug, not the type of guy you’d usually go for.

When you finally decided to pay attention to the shop you noticed that the man looking at the display kept looking at you. Maybe he needed your help picking out flowers for his girlfriend?

You moved away from your spot behind the counter, towards him. “Excuse me sir, do you need any help finding anything?”

He scoffed at your question, maybe he didn’t need your help. “Sir? Gah you make me sound old.” He completely faced you after saying this, a playful pout forming on his lips.

“Only out of respect, sir.” You started to retreat back to your spot behind the counter. “Well if you need any help, just let me know. You are taking quite a bit.” The last part slipped out before you could even think, sounding more judgemental than intended.

“Sorry for taking too long” he playfully responded. “But uhh, yeah I could use a little help. I know nothing about flowers.” He frowned.

You made your way back to him, examining the flower display. “Hmm do you know what your girlfriends favorite flower is? I might be able to help you find something similar?”

“No, I would’ve gotten those if I had known.” He teased. “And the flowers are for my mother, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh” you paused in between your next words. “Hmm well then, do you atleast know her favorite color?”

“Of course. I know my moms favorite color, what do you think I am, a monster?” He paused for a second, shit, did he actually know her favorite color. “It’s uhh… purple yeah”

You giggled at his subtlety. “Well then I’d personally go with the Hydrangeas, you can hardly go wrong with those.” When you looked up at him, he was staring hard.

Jakes face flushed, getting caught in the act. “Okay.. that sounds great.”

You smiled, maybe he wasn’t so ‘thuggish’. “Alright well just follow me on up to the register and I’ll get you checked out.”

He nodded along, following you.

When he went to give you the money for the flowers, after you had told him the total, your hands had touched for just a split second. You could’ve sworn you felt a spark, and when you looked up at his face you could tell he had felt it too.

He thanked you for helping him and made his way out, you called after him telling him to have a nice day.

Huh, maybe thuggish looking guys might be your type

—

Jake’s mom didn’t hate the flowers she got. He thought that maybe he had even seen her genuine smile for the first time in a while. This was enough of a confirmation that Jake had needed. So, like any normal human being, he decided that the best course of action would be to visit the quaint little flower shop every week. His mothers happiness was the sole motivation for this conclusion, totally not the cute flower shop cashier.

Over the next few weeks Jake had learnt many things about you. He learned what your name was, which he totally didn’t attempt to look up on pacebook after finding out. He found out that you worked here to help your dad out. You told him what your favorite kind of flowers were. Recommended him your favorite movies. Excitedly told him that your birthday was coming up.

Jake knew almost everything about you that a boyfriend would. He just never had the courage to ask you out.

—

“Jake” you called out, earning the attention of your companion.

It was a Friday evening, Jake was here on one of his usual visits, something you began to look forward to throughout the passing week.

“We should go out.” It came out as a statement more than a question, which was fine. It was quite apparent that the boy liked you.

His face warmed. “Huh?” he replied, dumbfounded.

“I said, we should go out” you were now leaning into him, more than before. “I mean, I like you and I was kind of guessing you liked me.” You looked down now, feigning shyness. “But I guess you not asking me out on a date should’ve been proof enough, I should’ve known you didn’t feel that way.

Jake was stunned, god you were bold, way more than him. “Of course I like you [name], I’ve liked you from the moment I walked in here.” You didn’t know his face could grow more red, but it did. “I’d love to go on a date with you, though I wish I had the courage to ask you first.” He mumbled the last part.

You looked up at his face, heads not even a foot apart. “I know Jake, I just wanted you to admit it.” You teased, making Jake avoid your gaze.

—

m.list

[starshifter]

my hopes the wind done scattered

malevolent. john/arthur, king in yellow/arthur. 8.3k

Ao3 Link if you'd prefer to read it there

I am currently sick and also I haven't posted anything here in like...fuck eight years? But I finished writing this yesterday and I am releasing it on the world now. It's as cooked as my balloon brain. Let's fucking go

---

The walls loomed up around him, dark and extending up until they vanished completely from sight. Arthur hunched further back against the wall behind him. Across from him, an indistinct humanoid shape watched him.

The bucket sat between them.

Water splashed inside it and Arthur lurched forward. He needed it. If he didn’t get it first, he knew that he wouldn’t get any at all.

Bent over the large basin, he brandished the shard of sharpened bone towards the lurking figure to warn it off. He would fight it. He wouldn’t let it get him.

He reached into the basin and his hand hit the bottom of a dry bucket.

Then the shadow was on him. His legs shattered under him as its hands closed around his neck.

He felt like he was suspended in jello. Moving his limbs was an inordinate amount of effort, but he would die if he didn’t.

He strained harder and then the shadow was pinned under him. Triumphant, he pressed his thumbs into its eyes and began to laugh as it screamed—

Arthur looked up from his well-lit desk at the knock on their office door. “Come in,” he called as he gathered the papers in front of him into a neat pile. A shadow shifted behind the frosted glass on the door and there was silence for a long moment.

The knock came again.

Frowning, Arthur got up and went over to the door. “It’s unlocked, Parker. You don’t have to—” he started to say as he opened the door.

Darkness greeted him. A void stretched out from the doorway, a blackness utterly untouchable by the dim electric light. Faint whispers caught in his ears that he could almost understand. If he could just hear them a little clearer...

He tipped forward, compelled by their words, and something shifted.

He froze.

He couldn’t see a thing past his door frame, but somehow he knew that something was there — lurking in the dark.

Watching.

Waiting.

His breath caught in his chest and his heart pounded as he stumbled back. He needed to get away. He needed to—

There was a flash of color in the void. A whirl of yellow.

“Arthur!” John’s voice called faintly, as if from far away.

“John,” he whispered. Then again, louder, “John!”

He plunged forward into the void.

Something huge and unfathomable closed around him.

-

Arthur gasped awake.

He stared up into darkness from where he lay and, for a disoriented moment, thought he was still in that void. The past few days returned to him abruptly. He was trapped in a cabin, surrounded by snow with two broken legs, and still completely and utterly blind. John was lost to the King and he was starving to death in the middle of who the fuck knew where.

It had been a dream.

He closed his eyes, not that it made any fucking difference, and reached down to pull the blanket over his head.

It wasn’t there.

“What?”

He propped himself up on his elbows — and at the very least he had all his limbs back, for all the good that did him — and the surface he was lying on tilted slightly underneath him.

He froze.

Something was very, very wrong.

For one thing, it was warm — almost hot, in fact. The cabin he had been trapped in had been cold even with the fire lit. And the surface he was on… It didn’t feel like the cot he had fallen asleep on. It didn’t feel like a mattress at all. In fact, it wasn’t even a flat surface. It almost cupped him, with his head on an incline that scooped gently downwards until it rose back up under his legs, his knees curving gently over another bump.

He carefully rubbed his hand against the material. It was smooth, cool to the touch, and velvety soft with a bit of give to it. Except velvet had never felt so alive before.

“Oh god,” he whispered and sat up.

Immediately, the surface shifted again as it closed around him.

It was a hand, a massive hand, but like no other hand Arthur had ever known. It seemed to be made entirely of fingers, the palm non-existent, but the fingers had no joints. They curled smoothly without bending as they wrapped around him like living prison bars.

“Fuck,” he yelled and started struggling in earnest to get out. The pressure around him increased and he quickly found himself immobilized around the upper torso, only his legs able to kick freely.

“Have you figured out where you are yet, Arthur Lester?” a deep, reverberating voice asked. It was a voice he could never forget.

“No,” Arthur choked out through the sudden surge of nauseating horror. “No, no!” He thrashed violently, straining as hard as he could against the hold around him.

“Calm down, Arthur,��� the King in Yellow said in that slimy, manipulative way of his and sheer rage flushed the terror out of his veins.

“Release me! Release me right this second or I swear I will find a way to kill you.” Arthur dug the heels of his feet as hard as he could into the hand holding him.

“If you insist,” the King said, uncaring.

His stomach swooped violently with a sensation not dissimilar to an elevator suddenly ascending, only this was much faster than any elevator he had been on. The wind whistled past him for a split second as he was lifted. To some sort of platform, perhaps?

The fingers unwrapped from around him and he shoved himself up to sitting, intending next to get to his feet.

He never got the chance. The hand holding him tipped to the side and he was falling.

He didn’t even have time to scream before he crashed messily into a soft surface.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he gasped out. Fingers cupped around him again, though they didn’t close him in the way they had before.

Nauseous, furious, and terrified; Arthur grabbed at the finger closest to him and clung to it with all his strength. He’d been lifted up. There was no way of knowing how high up in the air he was right now. If the King decided to drop him for real instead of tossing him between hands like some kind of fucking baseball, it might just kill him.

A deep, menacing laugh rumbled around him. “Would you still like to be released?”

“Fuck you,” Arthur spat at him and he hated how breathless he sounded. He took a deep breath, forced himself to stop trembling, and tried to think. He couldn’t let the King manipulate him again. “Isn’t this a breach of your deal? I was supposed to go home, which you couldn’t manage either, by the way. That was not Arkham.”

“It was Earth. Humans are capable of traveling between their little cities.”

“Not with two broken legs!” Arthur yelled. Then he paused. His legs had been broken in that cabin. He’d set them himself before passing out from the pain of it.

They were completely fine now though. Even the make-shift splints had vanished. The King had healed him? Why? What did he gain by giving Arthur back his mobility?

“What do you want from me,” he spat at the King.

“You wanted what you called “John” back, didn’t you?” the King asked him.

Arthur went still. “… What?”

Had he heard that correctly? Was the King really offering…?

No. No, this was a trick of some kind. Or some kind of fucked up game he was playing. Arthur wasn’t going to fall for that.

“What are you saying?” he inquired guardedly.

“Exactly what I said. You didn’t wish to be parted from your friend.” He said it matter-of-factly, as if he knew Arthur better than he did himself.

It pissed him off.

“You didn’t care about that before. Why are you bringing it up now? I don’t believe for a second that you’ll just give me John back out of the kindness in your heart. If you even have one of those,” he couldn’t resist spitting out at the end.

The King didn’t sound bothered in the least by his righteous anger. “It changes, actually.”

“What?” Arthur asked, completely taken off guard.

“Hearts. The number of them changes. Right now, I have three.”

“How—” Arthur started to ask before he realized he was being directed off topic again. “No, I don’t care about that. Why aren’t you answering my questions?”

The hand cupping him shifted slightly, the fingers curling in towards him. Arthur tightened his grip on the finger he held. He might be doll-sized to this creature, but he wouldn’t let himself be tossed about like a toy.

“You didn’t answer mine. Did you want “John” back?”

“Of course I fucking want John back!” The words burst out of him before he could stop it. “I want John and I want to go back home!”

“But you wanted him out of your head. You wanted to give him his own body,” the King pressed, as if that had any bearing on Arthur’s answer.

“It’s none of your business what we wanted to do. What do you fucking want?”

“I want you to answer my fucking questions when I ask them,” the King finally raised his voice back and it shook with a sound that could only be described as electric static. The sound thrilled Arthur as much as it terrified him.

Mortal terror wasn’t enough to stop him now. “Well, too bad! I answered one of yours, so now you can answer one of mine! What do you really fucking want from me?”

The fingers closed around him and squeezed. The air wheezed out of him at the sudden pressure and he released his grip in a panic to try to shove the fingers away before they crushed him.

“I will give you one offer. You can either go back to your precious Arkham alone or you can have your “John” back and in his own body here in the Dreamlands.” Arthur opened his mouth to tell the King to go fuck himself, he would have both even if it killed him, and the King cut him off before he could get the words out. “Think very carefully before you answer or you will get neither. My patience for your insolence grows thin.”

And Arthur’s anger faltered. For a moment, the only thing he could think of was lying in the Prison Pits, John silent in the face of his ill temper, and staring up into darkness as he lay slowly wasting away in his own filth. It flushed a deep shame through him as soon as he realized that the subservience the King had worked to instill in him had taken, at least on some level.

But it also served as a wake up call. He was being an idiot. He knew exactly the sort of person he was dealing with and charging forward in a blind temper could only end poorly.

He would never go back to those Pits. He’d already died once to avoid going back to those Pits and he would die again if that’s what it took. But maybe he could avoid reaching that point at all. The King clearly wanted something from him. He needed to figure out what was going on and then find a way to turn it in his favor.

He’d beaten the King once when he climbed out of those Pits. He could do it again.

He needed to play along. At least for now.

There was no way he could trust a word that came out of the King in Yellow’s lying mouth. He knew he wouldn’t get John or a way out of the Dreamlands no matter which he picked, but all he needed to do right now was answer the question.

It was an easy question too. It wasn’t even a choice which he would pick.

“John. I choose John.”

John wouldn't leave him here. John would help him find a way for them to both escape, just as they’d always done before.

The King let out a pleased sounding rumble. “Very good, Arthur.”

The strange elevator like sensation came back, but this time he was being moved sideways. He was pressed up against the softest cloth he had felt in his entire life. Silken wasn’t a fine enough word for it. Silk was far too coarse in comparison. This material felt as if someone had plucked the gentle starlight down from the heavens and woven it into the ideal of fabrics that could only be found in dreams. Even the velvet-soft skin he was cradled in felt rough and unfinished in comparison.

There was an off-putting noise akin to the wind, if the wind could be described as solid, that was accompanied by a faint echo of whispers. Then it changed into something sideways to the sound of a multitude of shuffling bare feet and a flag rippling in the breeze. It made the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck prickle up.

John hadn’t described the King in much detail, but Arthur was starting to think that may have been a kindness. There was something very wrong with the way he moved, like nothing that had ever graced the Earth.

“Let’s get you settled in,” the King said simply as they moved.

“Settled where?” he asked sharply.

“A room, of course. This is your home now. I would hate for you to feel unwelcome,” the King crooned, clearly trying to put him at ease. It only made his hackles go up. He knew when he was being lied to and that tone of voice was nothing but falsehoods laid over a monster’s visage.

A guest. Ha. What a laugh.

He was just as much a prisoner now as he was before, no matter how nicely the King tried to dress it up for this go around. What in the world did he want from him? He’d already taken everything Arthur had left.

But… Wait. He was thinking about this incorrectly. The chance that the King wanted something from him specifically wasn’t likely. No, the only reason the King had ever cared about him was because of his connection to John. And now the King had kidnapped him back to the Dreamlands and was asking him about John.

Was this… Was this because John was fighting back? Was the King looking for leverage over him? Fuck, had Arthur doomed them both by agreeing to stay?

But would the outcome have changed if he said he wanted to go back home? The King wouldn’t have sent him back if he had meant to keep him from the start.

So the choice had been false like he first thought. It had been another clever manipulation because he knew just enough about Arthur to know which option he would pick and was hoping he could pull the wool over his eyes by making him feel like he had a choice. It had been a clever ruse to create some good will.

Well, Arthur was on to him. He wouldn’t find an easy mark here.

The sensation of movement and that brain twisting noise came to a stop. He was lifted away from that dreamlike fabric and tipped gently onto his feet on some sort of solid surface. The soft scent of flowers unlike any he had smelled before washed over him. Underneath their perfume, there was the faint scent of what he could only describe as clean water. It drew him forward a thoughtless step before he stopped.

He had no idea what lay before him. This was the King’s domain. There was an equal chance that some kind of paradise lay before him as that it was some kind of illusory trap that would send him into another monster’s lair.

“You are at the doorway of a lavish room,” the King began, in the same cadence that John had always used to describe what they saw. The sheer longing that ripped through him at the sound made his breath hitch painfully.

“The walls and floor are made of polished, dark stone with veins of violet crystal. It stretches out nearly fifty feet from one side of the circular room to the opposite. Golden tapestries hang from the walls between sconces lit with crystals full of trapped starlight. Right now, the room is lit with a gentle blue light in reflection of the sun outside. It will soon cycle through to red.

“Various pieces of furniture are scattered about the room. There are lounges, desks, bookshelves, and other soft looking surfaces to rest on. A large, circular bed lies set into the floor off to your far right. To your left, there is a large pool set with mosaicked tiles that depict the Hyades. Each of the glass stars glows with their own light. The water steams softly and soft towels and plates with fruit and flatbread lie along the pool’s rim.”

Arthur’s stomach clenched painfully at the mention of food. God, he didn’t even know how long it had been since he last ate. Time was strange in the cabin he dragged himself to. He kept passing in and out of consciousness and he couldn’t see the light outside to estimate the time. All he had to tell time was the number of times he awoke freezing and had to relight the fire.

“In the center of the room is an open circle set with the heart of another mosaic that stretches beyond the initial circle like golden rivers through the rest of the room. Along its edges are a variety of instruments, including a piano.”

It felt like a slap in the face. Arthur’s nails dug into his palms painfully. A piano. What a sick joke. “You don’t have to describe it. I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Very well. I’ll leave some of my Dancers with you. If you require anything, tell them and they’ll see it done.”

“I don’t need their help.”

“Then don’t ask anything of them.”

So they were his new prison wardens then.

There was a rustle of fabric from the King’s direction as he prepared to take his leave.

“What about John?” burst out of him without any further thought.

The King neatly sidestepped the question. “For now, you should bathe.”

Arthur wasn’t letting it go that easily. “And then what? You’ll produce John like some kind of party trick? Or is he contingent on good behavior? Do exactly what I say and you can have your friend back? You promised me John! Let me speak to him! I’d rather have him here than these Dancers.”

“I don’t need to produce “John,”” the King growled. And there is was. Arthur had known it was a lie and he still somehow felt his hopes shatter. He opened his mouth, to say what, he didn’t even know, but the King beat him to it. ““John” is already here.”

“He clearly isn’t!”

“Arthur…” the King said, disappointed and condescending. “You’re smarter than this. I know you understand what I mean.”

And damn it all, it only took Arthur a moment to catch on. “No. No, you are nothing like John. John is a good person. I know he’s still fighting you in there.”

Anger crept into the King’s voice. “And what do you know about me? Do you even know my name, Arthur Lester? Or will you keep calling me John until your final days?”

“I don’t need to know your name to know you’re a right prick. Even a fragment of your own soul wants nothing to do with you,” he spat back.

Silence rang between them for a long moment. An otherworldly growl like the screech of a slipping record echoed through Arthur’s bones and he froze completely still. He couldn’t even breath as the sound bounced back off the room’s walls.

“You forget yourself,” the King snarled, that horrific echo of the unknowable hammering the words directly into Arthur’s brain. “Maybe I should jog your memory.”

The scent of filth and despair flooded his senses and Arthur knew immediately where he was.

“No!” his voice cracked as he threw himself forward to claw at the hard-packed dirt walls. “Fuck! No, let me out! I won’t fucking go back! I won’t!”

Not the Pits.

Anything but the Pits.

The visceral scent and sensation of the walls under his nails abruptly vanished. He stumbled forward and collapsed to his knees. Shaken, he reached forward and patted his hands along the floor. It was hard, polished stone, not hard-packed dirt. Nothing like the floor of the Pit. Tears welled up in his eyes with the strength of his relief. He wasn’t there. He was still out.

He wasn’t there.

A sob ripped its way out of him.

“Arthur, I…” The King sounded so fucking much like John sometimes. It drew another helpless sob out of him.

Arthur couldn’t do this anymore. All he wanted was to go home. But how could he go back without John? He’d seen what waited for him on Earth without John. It was emptiness. He’d been dying alone and blind in a cabin in the middle of nowhere surrounded by snow. He couldn’t even pick a direction to drag himself in without risking death from exposure because he had no fucking clue if he was moving towards civilization or heading deeper into the wilderness.

“What do you fucking want from me?” His voice sounded so fucking small as it bounced off the walls of this fancy new prison.

He’d never wanted to hear John’s voice more than when he’d woken up on the floor of that fucking cabin.

But John hadn’t been there. John was here. John was a prisoner of the King still.

Arthur couldn’t leave him here alone.

He’d given his life up for John once. He could do it again. He didn’t have anything else waiting for him back home.

He dragged the tattered shreds of his resolve back around him and stood up. John needed him. He couldn’t fall to pieces now.

He wouldn’t let the King win again.

“Right now I want you to settle in. Take a bath, eat something, sleep. We can talk after that.” Arthur didn’t even have the energy left to get properly angry at how fucking gentle the King sounded now. The little flare that sputtered up died down almost as quickly as it appeared.

“Fine.” If the King was going to offer him respite, then Arthur would take full advantage of it. He would need it later if he wanted to escape with John.

“Then I will see you later,” the King told him. An unholy screech of electric reverberation and whispers clawed its way into Arthur’s brain and he brought his hands up to his ears with a pained exclamation. It did nothing to block out the noise.

Then there was a sudden sense of absence. He knew down to his bones that the King had departed.

After taking a second to pull himself back together, he stretched a hand out and shuffled to the left until he encountered a wall. Dragging his hand along it, he moved forward, carefully testing the ground with each step forward.

It was obvious when he reached the pool. The gentle caress of steam curled over his skin and the sweet, clean scent of water drifted up with it. He felt out with a foot until he found the lip of the pool. Eagerly, he reached for the tattered remains of his tie, before stopping.

The King had said he left some of his servants here.

He cleared his throat politely. “I would like to bathe privately now. If any Dancers in the room could either leave the room or turn away, that would be greatly appreciated.”

The rustle of cloth came from a few feet away from him and Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus Christ,” he gasped. He’d had no clue they were so close. A new wave of annoyance hit him. The King couldn’t have included the locations of his fucking Dancers in his description of the room?

There was the sound of soft shoes moving away from him and then silence.

“I— Thank you,” he said shortly — hoping the sound had been their full compliance and not merely them moving back while continuing to stare — and started stripping out of his clothes. Though perhaps rags would be a better description of them. Mud, sweat, and blood was liberally encrusted into the fabric and the less said about the smell the better.

He tested the water with his foot carefully. Gentle, soothing, heat had him fumbling forward to get into the pool as quickly as possible. He splashed in and a groan ripped out of his throat. God, he hadn’t felt so good in… He didn’t even know anymore. It felt like it had been decades.

He took a second to just stand there, the water up to the bottom of his ribs, and soak in the heat. Then he ducked down and submerged himself fully in the water.

Suspended there in the water, time seemed to stop. There was nothing but heat and darkness and the sensation of being weightless. He folded himself down until he touched the bottom of the pool and there he sat.

His lungs began to burn with the need for air and, for a second, he considered just staying where he was. A visceral wave of disgust and horror followed hard on the heels of the thought and he shot back up to the surface of the pool.

He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t end it like that. Even the King in Yellow didn’t deserve to come back and find a corpse where there had been a living person.

The phantom sensation of the knife plunging into his throat burned at him and Arthur choked around it.

Jesus fucking Christ. He’d actually done that. He’d slit his own throat and it had…

It hadn’t been the relief he had thought it would be.

His stomach cramped hard and he dry-heaved. God. Fucking Christ. He didn’t want to think about this. He fumbled back over to the side of the pool and started feeling along the edges of it for some kind of soap.

His fingers encountered a metal platter of some sort and when he felt over it, he found what felt almost like… grapes? No, they were far too large for grapes and their otherwise oval shape ended in points rather than rounded edges. But their skin was smooth and cool like a grape’s. Maybe this was some alien fruit from the Dreamlands. He’d encountered so many oddities here. What were some strange fruits in comparison?

He left them where he found them for now. The thought of food made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

A little further on, he found a glass bottle of some sort. He pulled the stopper out and sniffed it cautiously. It was spicy and intoxicating and far too strong, but it had that soapy edge to its smell that indicated it was what he was looking for.

It wasn’t his preference, but clean was clean and he would use far more offensive scents if he had to. He tipped some into his palm and worked it into a lather before rubbing himself down.

As he worked it through his overgrown bush of a beard, he found himself wishing he had a razor. What he wouldn’t give to get a nice, clean shave right now.

He paused there, soap dripping slowly down his temple. Perhaps…

He cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me, would there happen to be a razor I could use?”

There was the soft tap of shoes moving out of earshot and then a long stretch of silence. Perhaps there hadn’t been any razors in the room. Or perhaps the Dancer had run off to ask the King if it was okay to let him shave. Whatever. He would finish his bath regardless of getting a shave or not.

Not too long later, as he was rising his hair our for a second time, the soft tapping of shoes approached until it was directly in front of him. Hesitantly, he held up a hand and something cool and metallic was pressed into it. Feeling it out, he found that he had been given a straight razor. “Ah, thank you.”

There was a small titter of laughter before the dancer moved back. Feeling strangely self-conscious now, Arthur finished cleaning himself up quickly.

He hesitated when he’d finished. The idea of getting out of the warm water was incredibly unappealing. Would it hurt to stay in the pool a little bit longer? There was food along the rim of it. He could soak a while longer as he ate. His stomach had settled while he performed his ablutions and now was letting him know in no uncertain terms that it wanted attention too.

Mind made up, he felt along the edge of the pool until he encountered the metal platter again. He plucked up one of the strange fruits and turned it over in his hand. There would be no benefit in poisoning him now, so it was likely safe to eat.

He popped it in his mouth. Tart, sweet juice burst over his tongue like a sunburst. His stomach roared at him and, before he knew it, he had demolished most of the bunch.

His fingers brushed along another item next to the fruits and he realized it was the flatbread. Delighted, he tore a chunk off and ate that too. It was freshly baked, soft and warm on his tongue, and it vanished almost as quickly as the fruits had.

He proceeded to clear the rest of the platter and even found a goblet full of what might have been some kind of strange mulled wine next to it. He didn’t know and right now he didn’t particularly care.

Uncomfortably full and warm, a massive yawn escaped him. He bent forward over where his elbows braced him on the pool’s edge and debated the merits of falling asleep right where he was. It was incredibly tempting, but he didn’t feel like dealing with the humiliation when he would inevitably have to be fished out of the pool.

Reluctantly, he dragged himself out of the water. The towels were just as soft as he had been promised and he happily wrapped himself up in one.

God, he felt like a new person entirely. The difference such simple pleasures made in one’s life was frankly unbelievable. He could hardly believe he was in the same Dreamlands that he had spent the last three months suffering through. It felt like he would wake up back in the Pits at any second.

Maybe he would. He was at the King’s mercy here.

The rapid patter of shoes came directly up to both sides of him and Arthur flinched back at their sudden proximity, slipping on the wet tile and nearly falling before he caught himself. “Jesus Christ. Don’t do that.”

There was a rustle of fabric from his right and then incomprehensibly soft, smooth fabric was pressed against the back of his hand that hadn’t gone down to make sure his towel didn’t slip.

Curious, he accepted it and ran it through his hands. It was folded up, but when he shook it out, he realized it was some kind of robe. “Is this for me to change into?”

There was another whisper of cloth from the right.

“Are you… not able to speak?” He tried to remember how John had described the Dancers when they had encountered them before, but the details were largely overshadowed by what came after. Another pointed whisper of cloth followed. “Right, of course, how about… Tap my arm once for yes and twice for no.”

There came two soft taps against his arm. The hand, if it had been a hand, had not felt like skin, but rather more like the flat of a ceramic blade that was body-warm in temperature. It was decidedly off-putting.

He shifted back a step and pulled the garment up against his chest. It seemed fitting that the King would leave him with strange servants unable to answer his questions.

The Dancer to his left reached forward and tugged lightly at the fabric in his hands.

“I can dress myself, thank you,” Arthur told her sharply and unfolded the garment to do just that. It took him a second to work out where his head and arms went, but soon enough he had the robes on over top of his towel. Feeling somewhat foolish, he then let the towel drop.

Pettily, he left it where it fell. The King could just deal with him making a mess of his guest room.

He made his way back over to the wall and let his hand trail along it as he started towards the other side of the room where the King had said the bed was. The Dancers trailed in his wake. It was more than a little unnerving.

“I can walk across a room just fine on my own. You don’t need to hover. Go do whatever it is you normally do.” It was unlikely they would leave, but Arthur could settle for them giving him some space.

Their footsteps stopped for a moment before they moved off deeper into the room. It wasn’t long before the sound of them was lost in the vastness of the space. Somehow, not knowing where they were or what they were doing was worse than having them dogging at his heels, but Arthur refused to call them back.

The walk stretched on and he encountered nothing aside from the tapestries and a few bookshelves on the wall. A few times he felt the smooth marble-like floors under his bare feet shift into the mosaic tiles the King had described, but other than that he encountered nothing.

The room was big yes, but surely he should have reached the other side of it by now. It occurred to him that he had no idea whether the bed was up against the wall or not. He could have already walked past it and was now circling back around to the pool. Alternatively, it could be a few steps in front of him.

He didn’t know and he hated how helpless it left him feeling.

He stopped walking and took a deep breath. At some point he would need to map out the entire room, perhaps shuffle a few items around in it to serve as guidance posts, but right now he was exhausted. He just wanted to sleep. He could find the bed on his own, but he didn’t know how long it would take.

His free hand bunched up in the robe before he straightened it back out and smoothed the fabric down.

“Excuse me, could one of you point me in the direction of the bed?” he called out towards the center of the room.

There was silence for a moment and then one set of footsteps approached. A pair of heavy hands landed on his shoulders.

He flinched back automatically, his hands coming up to defend himself before he stopped. The grip vanished immediately. He took another deep breath before he put his hands back down. He would not apologize for a perfectly reasonable reaction. Not to one of the King’s own.

There was silence for a beat of time and then the hands came back, alighting on his shoulders as delicately as butterfly wings. Slowly, he was nudged about two-thirds of the way around from the wall.

Warmth flushed into his face as he realized that he had indeed overshot the bed. “Ah. Thank you.”

The Dancer retreated again with a flutter. There was a soft tittering sound almost like laughter from deeper in the room. Arthur’s face went even warmer as he clenched his jaw and marched forward.

He hated this. Even more, he hated how much this bothered him. What did it matter if the King’s heralds laughed at the poor blind man? If they underestimated him, it would just make his future escape easier.

He wanted John back so much it felt like being stabbed.

The bed announced its sudden presence by way of changing the hard stone into plush fabric. Arthur yelped and tripped forward. He caught himself with his hands against pillowy cotton that sank down almost an inch with his weight. Laughter rang out from deeper in the room.

“Would the two of you shut up,” he snapped. Hadn’t they said they couldn’t speak? What was this then?

Angrily, he shuffled forward on his knees, feeling around for the edge of the blankets and a pillow. The bed continued to stretch onwards and, before he knew it, he had abandoned his quest to settle down in order to find out just how big the bed was.

The answer was unaccountably massive. Arthur was relatively certain that he could have stretched himself out twice and barely touched the edges of the bed. It was far beyond lavish, it was unreasonably ostentatious. He felt ridiculous just being in its vicinity.

Still, it was soft and he’d earned something nice after everything he’d been through. He draped one of the light sheets over himself — it was warm enough in the room that it was more than enough to keep him comfortable — and dragged one of the many plush pillows under his head.

A long breath escaped him as he relaxed back into the most comfortable bed of his life. He was out in moments.

-

He drifted slowly out of sleep. It was warm and comfortable and he never wanted to get up. He turned over, intending to settle down and go back to sleep, and something stroked over his arm.

Arthur shot up out of bed with a strangled yell. For a moment, he struggled with the blanket, then he was free. He shoved the thing on his arm off as he frantically scooted away.

He stopped, confused, as his hand met nothing but cloth. “What…”

Cautiously, he patted around for the thing he had felt moving, and his hand closed around a bolt of impossibly soft fabric. A shaky laugh escaped from him. It hadn’t been something trying to kill him after all. It was just some fabric he’d been tangled with.

Then the bolt of fabric wrapped around his hand and tugged him forward.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Arthur gasped and frantically tried to claw it off of him.

A deep, unearthly laugh reverberated around the room. Dread pooled in his stomach and he froze where he was. The King had returned.

He shoved the fear down as far as he could, but he couldn’t help the way his hands continued to tremble at the shock.

“Did you have a good nap?” the King asked him, fond and teasing and sounding far too much like John.

Arthur bristled. He tugged his arm firmly against the grip around it — and what was it? It felt just like cloth, if soft enough that cloth didn’t feel like an adequate word to describe it, but it moved like it was alive — and it curled further up his arm in response. Frustrated, he let his arm go lax instead of giving the King the satisfaction of continuing to struggle hopelessly.

“Are you finally going to answer my question?” he shot back.

“I suppose I should,” the King said, sounding bored by the idea of it. “Very well. You are here because I would like you to be.”

What a non-answer. There were so many ways a statement like that could be meant. “And why exactly would you like that? Because the last I checked, you hated me.”

“Hatred is a strong word for what I felt. Annoyance would be closer. Perhaps frustration. You were like a fly buzzing in my ear and refusing to leave.”

“A fly the almighty King couldn’t even manage to swat,” Arthur said sarcastically, feeling strangely stung by the flippant dismissal. “Yes, I can see why you might call that frustrating. Now stop dodging the question. Why am I here? Truly.”

“I think I swatted you just fine,” the King said smugly.

“Not the point,” he hissed.

The King sighed and there was a shuffling of cloth and the faint hint of whispers carried on an otherworldly wind. The cloth around his hand squeezed once and twisted further up his arm. “I know you had your expectations of what returning John to me would entail and that he shared them, but returning to my whole, unbroken self has had a rather different outcome.”

There was a sudden ringing in his ears as he processed what the King had said.

“No,” Arthur breathed out in horror and then continued, louder, “No, John promised he’d fight you! He wouldn’t give in that fast!”

“Would you just fucking listen to me?” the King hissed at him. “I did— He did fight. Every fucking step of the way. And ultimately it was a draw. I chose to become whole again rather than remain broken, but I am not the same King in Yellow that I was before. I am changed. You changed me. I don’t know if I want to kill you for it or reward you, but it is done and it cannot be undone. You, Arthur Lester, have changed a piece of the fabric of the universe.”

Hope surged up in Arthur. “Then… you’re saying John is still there?”

“Fuck, is that all you care about? Yes, “John” is still here. I remember every step we walked together and every emotion you evoked in me.”

The idea of the King having all of John’s memories was sickening. Those had belonged to John, not a monster like the King. He had no right to them. This had to be fixed. He couldn’t give up on John now that there was a glimpse of hope on the horizon.

“And you don’t want to be changed, right?” he cajoled the King. “So what if you gave him back? Undo the change, so to say.”

“Did you listen to a single fucking word I said? The change is done. I am John and John is me. I might as well rip an arm off and hand that over to you. It would accomplish about the same as ripping another piece of my soul out and stuffing it in your head, you greedy, selfish human!” The King’s voice rose into a brain-rending shout and Arthur froze in place.

“Do you have any idea what that was like for me?” The King continued in a multi-toned mixture of a spitting electricity and a growl of the wind that made every hair on Arthur’s body stand up straight. The fabric around his arm curled agitatedly, sometimes tight enough to be painful and sometimes loose enough that he might have been able to pull free. He didn’t attempt to.

“I was a prisoner! I had nothing but a pair of eyes, a hand, and a foot. I couldn’t speak to anyone, I couldn’t control our actions, I couldn’t even make a single fucking decision except for what I chose to tell you! I should kill you for daring to hold me prisoner!”

As abruptly as the King’s anger surged, it ebbed back down. His voice was firm and deep with a hint of whispers behind it as he finished. “I won’t stuff myself back into you anymore than you will walk back into the Prison Pits.”

“That’s—” Arthur started to say, a lump forming in his throat.

“But maybe that’s not what you want,” the King continued while Arthur tried to breath through the sudden wave of nausea. “Maybe, you just want a harmless little pet to guide your every action.” It was John’s voice, curling comfortably inside his head the way it always had. “A dying branch turned into a crutch for the helpless, blind man and damn what it means for the tree you took the crutch from.”

“Get out of my head!” he screamed. He jerked his arm back hard and the fabric finally fell away.

Arthur panted harshly in the heavy silence that fell over them. He could feel the King’s heavy regard pressing down on him like the stones of the cave under the lighthouse. He wrapped his arms around himself, half to keep them out of the King’s grip and half to reassure himself that he could still move.

After a couple moments to collect himself, he spoke again. “If there is any truth to what you just said, then you never do that again. Never. Do you understand me?”

He waited until he got a response.

“I understand,” the King said tightly after several long beats.

“Good.”

A charged silence fell over them.

Arthur’s felt like his emotions were being pulled in so many directions at once he was about to collapse in pieces. John was gone? For good? Oh god. He was—

He switched tracks. Had he really been imprisoning John? But John had wanted to stay with him! He wasn’t anything like the King and his cursed Pits.

But John also wasn’t really gone and still wanted him around, hence bringing him back to the Dreamlands? Hadn’t he been just as desperate to leave this place and return to Arkham as Arthur? Then the desire to stay here was the King?

It didn’t seem possible for his friend to be the same monster that had left him to rot in the Pits. He couldn't accept that. John was different. He knew it in his soul.

Was this all an elaborate ruse by the King to torment him as some kind of revenge? Arthur didn’t know if he could survive finding out that John was truly gone and this was just the King playing with him. But it felt so much like talking to John…

Arthur didn’t know. He felt like he didn’t know anything anymore. The rug was well and truly pulled out from under him.

But… Arthur had rebuilt himself from lower points than this. He had lost everything before. There was no excuse for falling to pieces now when there might still be something left.

It was likely a fool’s hope, and would come back to stab him through the heart, but he had to believe that John was still in there somewhere.

Unwinding his grip on himself, he wrapped his hands together, closing his right hand over his wooden pinkie. As John had said: there were miles still to go.

It was time to pick the pieces back up and carry on.

He could do this. He just needed to treat this like he had any other problem that needed to be worked through.

Arthur knew he was a damn good detective and very good at reading people. And, right now, he felt like he was being told the truth. Maybe not the entire truth, but very close to it. He could work with that.

“If I,” he swallowed heavily to force the lump down and tried again. “If I was your jailer, then why did you bring me back? Wouldn’t you have preferred to leave me to die on Earth?”

“Because you are also my friend, Arthur. I found that…” He fell silent.

“You found what?” Arthur prompted gently.

“I found that I missed you. As strange as that seems. I did not wish to leave you on Earth, especially when I knew I had injured you.”

He didn’t sound like the King. He sounded like John. Was it possible… Could John have defeated the King? Could he have absorbed the King rather than the other way around?

“John,” he questioned, the entirety of his tremulous hope contained in that single name.

“I suppose that is one of my names now,” he said with a hint of humor. “It’s been quite a while since I took a new one. Perhaps it was time.”

Arthur reached up in the direction John’s voice had been coming from. Hope and a kind of ecstasy he hadn’t know before swelled inside him. “Your hand. Give me your hand.”

Something warm pushed against his hand and Arthur closed both his hands around it. He would guess it was just a fingertip, but it was close enough. “I suppose I can’t quite shake your hand, but it’s still so good to finally properly meet you, John.”

“And I you, Arthur,” John rumbled back. His hand pulled away and Arthur felt strangely disappointed by the loss of contact.

Then John’s hand closed around him and he was lifted so gently he hardly even felt the movement of it.

Arthur still felt his stomach swoop and he clutched at the fingers around him for an anchor. “I’m not a doll. Don’t just go picking me up,” he objected.

“Of course not, Arthur. I simply wish to see you better. You are quite far down. I think I may get a crick in my neck talking to you.” John’s voice shook with suppressed amusement.

“Shut up. You’re the one who is far too big.”

“I prefer the term glorious.”

A finger pressed down on his head for a second and then lifted just enough to stroke over his hair. It was strange, but not entirely unwelcome. John had his own body. How novel. He released his grip with one hand and stroked over John’s finger in turn. How wonderful it was to be able to do something so mundane as touch his friend.

A laugh that was half hysteria and half honest joy bubbled up out of Arthur. This was utterly insane, but when had insanity stopped him before?

John was here. They would figure out the rest together, just like they always had.

[matrixxsystem]

Terrapin Soup Part 15 (END of book 1)

Leo felt a weight across his chest, but not in a bad way. It was warm, comforting, and with the cold air around him this warmth was like a life line. There was a slight commotion from somewhere in the room but he didn't want to focus on it, he didn't want to open his eyes. He just wanted to hold onto this warm feeling and drift back into the void of sleep.. But like all good things, they never stayed long for him. The warmth started to shift and move, Leo reached out but his arm wouldn't grab a hold, it was weightless in fact.. Oh. That's right. Leo slowly opened his eyes with a low sigh, his eyes drifting from the missing limb over to the yokai heater who'd been napping beside him in the medical bed. He smiled a little when his eyes focused in on him and he was able to see Usagi better. "Sorry, was I too heavy? I didn't mean to wake you-" Leo pulled Usagi back with his good arm, too tired to care who else saw him being this affectionate to his boyfriend. "Mn.. No, no I was waking up cause my body is stupid. You're warm, it's nice.. You could stay a little longer.. If you wanted..." Usagi chuckled a little laying back down and getting comfortable, "If you're sure. It's sometime in the night, or early morning I guess? So you should go back to bed."

Leo nodded a little, half listening as he closed his eyes again. "What about you?" He said quietly. "You keepin' watch or somethin? Bet Donnie put you up to it didn't he-?" 

"Maybe, but I would've anyway. How's your uh.. nub?" Leo let out a tired laugh, gently resting his head against Usagi's. "Greeeaat babe, just fine.. It's okay, really... Much better now actually. Did anything interesting happen while I was knocked out?" Usagi thought about it for a moment, about what exactly he should tell Leo cause he didn't want to make him upset or worried. "Well.. I went out and got some more medical supplies while your brothers and dad patched you up so I wasn't there for all of that. But I might've had a bit of an argument with Donnie after getting back.. I-It's fine now though we sorted it out I think. I got to meet that sister of yours again, that was nice.. I helped Mikey make dinner, we talked a bit about.. Food things.. He seemed open to trying new things but I didn't push it. I told him I'd talked about it with you before a few times and that you were also open to the idea. Not that it was a lie but I was right to assume mentioning you being okay with it helped the conversation." Leo nodded a little as he listened, he was back to being half awake at this point. "Mhmm.. That's.. That's good" Usagi chuckled a little, hearing the tiredness in Leos voice was cute to him. "Would you like me to keep talking to help put you to sleep? Or should I stop if it's distracting?" Leo was quiet for a moment, thinking about it apparently. "Mm... You can keep talking, I like the sound of your voice." 

"You make it very hard to resist kissing you, you know that right? When you say things like that." He smiled a little lifting his head to kiss Leos cheek, "I'll keep talking, for a little. But if it's keeping you awake let me know and I'll stop." Leo nodded, smiling at the kiss, god he was lucky to have Usagi think such nice things about him.. And to stick with him after all this, after everything he's seen... "Let's see," He started, trying to think of what he could ramble about. "Oh I know. I'll talk about what I did while you guys were getting the other parts for the pins, we weren't able to see each other for a little while so you don't know. Hyo is recovering really welly thanks to you, he wont say it but he appreciates you doing that for us. And after everything, he probably approves of you more than he lets on." He took Leos good hand in his, gently tracing some of the lines and scars up his arm. "While we couldn't hang out I took on a few missions, I apprehended a few bandits, took out a few murderers.. Oh and I got to meet that Draxum guy you mentioned before, I guess he's like you're other dad? That's what Mikey says at least.. He's... Interesting, I wasn't sure what to make of him at first but he has a lot of good ideas. He seemed a little against the yokai hunters like me at first.. But I can understand that, he had this grudge against humans for such a long time, and his sole mission was to the yokai.. So I guess hunting them, even the bad ones, was something he didn't take kindly to. But- It's not like we wont get along just because of that, if you guys can change his mind about humans I'm sure he'll come around to this sort of this too eventually, at least a little bit." Leo gave a quiet hum in response, still listening for the most part but it wouldn't be long till he fell back asleep. 

Usagi kept talking about what he did on his missions and on his days off for maybe an hour or so, when he paused to check Leo was fast asleep again. He smiled and closed his eyes too, relaxing a bit and letting himself fall back asleep too. Everyone else in the lair was probably asleep or at least in their rooms by now so there was no point in trying to keep himself awake as long as Leo was okay. And maybe by the time they woke up Leo would have the strength to get out of bed or eat something, that was a nice thought. 

-_-_-_-_-

"Hey- Leo, hey." More noise.. And bright lights. Leo rubbed his eyes and yawned as he woke up again. It was probably morning now. He opened his eyes and saw his brothers, he was a little surprised to see them all, he didn't know why but he had this idea in his head that they all had better things to do then look after him right now. "Mm I'm up- I'm up." He looked over and didn't see Usagi. "Keep your shirt on he's just getting coffee don't worry" Donnie said, watching Leo's confused expression at the lack of rabbit in his bed. Leo looked back at him and nodded a bit, "I uh.. Sorry, about making you guys worry.." 

"Don't sweat it lil bro, Usagi filled us in on what happened for a most part. But uh.. He didn't know much about the arm thing, we were kind hoping you could explain that. If you're okay to talk about it now-" Leo glanced the other way to the lack of right arm and figured he should give at least some form of explanation. "Oh.. Yeah... That. No I can- I'll tell you what happened.." He moved his arm helping himself sit up a bit more, it was still so weird to suddenly not have his arm there for support even with something that felt as simple as sitting up. "I was on my way out actually, I opened a portal to the room I broke into first, there was a hole in the roof big enough for me to fit into, that's how I got in unnoticed first. And I took out the lights and cameras too, I was trying to be smart about it. But there were sensors around the battery that I didn't notice I guess. That's what tipped them off, and as I was going through my portal someone shot some kinda tranquillizer at me, and got my leg." He paused for a moment reaching over the the cup of water on his bedside table and took a few sips before picking back up. "So when I woke up I was in this room strapped down to a metal table, and this scientist lady kept trying to interrogate me, didn't go well, for her haha.." 

Everyone looked a bit worried hearing Leo talk so casually about being drugged, captured, and interrogated like that.. To bad they didn't know the story was about to get much worse. "Yeah so I couldn't give her any good information so she decided torture was the next best thing and started using weird medical knives and stuff to try and see how strong my body was- She even had this cool looking hammer which if she hadn't broken my arm with it I would've liked to get one of my own.."

"She what?!" Raph stepped closer, eyes wide in a mix of confusion and worry for his little brother. "Yeah I didn't count cause, ouch, but she kept wackin' my right arm and breaking the bones in it to see how long it'd take to break em or get me to talk? I'm not really sure, I wasn't really able to focus that much when it was happening-"

"How are you so casual about that-? Are you okay??" Leo tilted his head a little, unsure why they'd even ask that, he was home wasn't he? "Yeah? I mean, I'm here..? And hey Usagi came and got me before.. Before I..." He looked back at his shoulder, seeing the stitches from where he was stabbed earlier, thinking about how he snapped again, after all these years.. He killed her, and the guy before her. He tore her apart, soaked in blood and letting his teeth rip into her flesh and tear pieces of her limbs.. Was it just because he felt threatened? Hungry? Both? He really wasn't sure at this point, he didn't want to admit it... But he really had fun tearing her apart. 

"..Leo? You okay?" He perked up and shook the thoughts from his head, looking back to his brothers, "Y-Yeah, sorry.. Just thinking... I'm just, really glad Usagi came when he did. That's all.." Raph nodded a little and stepped closer gently patting the shoulder on his good arm. "Us to.." He wasn't sure what exactly to say, he wanted to know more but he wasn't about to press the matter if it was something Leo didn't want to talk about right now. "Well.. It'll defiantly be an adjustment, but I think with a little training you'll be right back to going on missions with us and stuff-!"

"Wait you mean I'm suspended from missions?"

"W-Well, I mean.. Just for now- You're injured after all! C'mon you know you need time to recover I can't just expect you to get right back to that stuff after all this and- Donnie help me out here-"

"Mhmm, yeah Raph's right this time. No hardcore fighting till those stitches come out cause I'm not going to be as nice and give you anesthetic next time. You have about a month left to make sure it all heals then two weeks after the stitches are out to make sure the wounds are properly closed and healed. That and you'll be having a bit of pain and whatever so you probably shouldn't push your body too hard while all that's going on.. Don't be a dum-dum, just focus on getting better so you don't end up with an order for bedrest or something worse got it?" Leo huffed and laid back, "Fiiiine, this is so stupid.. At least tell me how long it'll take to get all the pins made, that way I'll have something to look forward to."

"Well.. If I push my other projects aside for this, which I already planned to do, maybe two weeks? Once I get that first pin down the others should be easier. It just depends on how long that first one takes me. But hey with you on house arrest for the next month and a half you'll be the first to hear of any updates on it, sound good?" Leo huffed again at him calling it house arrest. "Ugh, yeah fine. Not like I have much of a say on the matter anyway.. If I can't leave can I at least have Usagi over more often?" 

"Uhhhhh- That's a question for dad, but probably. I don't really care, as long as you're mushy shenanigans don't interrupt my work I don't really care what you do. And he knows where we live, you could portal him in here at any time, or sneak him in, it's not like we could really stop you-"

-_-_-_-_-

It's been three weeks since Leo lost his arm, he'd been having a really good recovery so far. And having Usagi there to help him and make his dumb ass take it easy was a big plus. Seriously when he came over it was like putting a cat on someone's lap to keep them seated, he just didn't have it in him to move an inch with Usagi acting as his weighted blanket..

"Hey Leo, come to my lab when you have a sec."

"Oh? Is it the pins?"

"Uh.. No. No I'm still working on that- It's taking a bit longer then I thought cause the wiring is so damn tiny.. But I have something just as cool I've been working on! And I think you'll really like it."

"Lemme guess, and if I don't you'll just be crushed?"

"Yup!"

Leo sighed and nodded, setting his mug down and pushing his chair back in before following Donnie back to his lab, it was pretty early in the morning which mean he'd pulled another all nighter. Donnie was kind of known for that while Leo was the opposite, since his sleep schedule was all messed up and he started having trouble sleep at certain times he started going to bed early, and waking up early too. Still not was early as Raph who was often up at six in the fucking morning- But he was usually up before nine or so. Along with Mikey who'd started getting himself into the same schedule as most students since he planned to go to school as soon as he had a pin of his own. Fair enough..

Leo trailed behind Donatello as he walked into his lab, a bit curious what Donnie was so excited about.. "Okay, so you know how you no longer have a right hand?"

"No. I've actually never  noticed."

"Oh ha ha. But seriously, I started thinking about it.. And I mean you've gotten really good at being left handed, n-not that you had much of a choice."

"Sooo..?"

"Right-!" He pressed a button on his wrist tech and a panel of the wall opened up, exposing a secret compartment with something inside that was covered with what was probably a blanket. He took the object out, keeping its cover on and handed it to Leo. "Introducing~" He pulled the cover back when Leo had a grip on the piece underneath it, revealing a prosthetic that was mirrored off Leos left arm. "Woah.. Donnie this is-"

"I was going to paint it and try to match your skin tone or something but I figured we could let Mikey do that as the resident artist-"

"Donnie-"/

"Oh and get this I added some sensors inside, so when something touches the arm you'll be able to feel it, it's not really fully functional since I'd have to connect it to your nerves witch would be painful, and invasive.."

"Don-"

"But we can talk about that later! The sensors also function so that the fingers work, they uh- They also aren't at 100% yet.. I had a bit of trouble finding a work around that didn't involve having to open your arm back open so I wasn't sure if-"

Leo rolled his eyes and pulled Donnie into a hug, "Oh my god you never shut up do you brother-" He said with a laugh. "I love it. Really, it's.. It's really cool. And hey, I'm sure you'll end up making upgrades eventually, don't sweat the small stuff. As long as it can hold a sword I'll be good. It.. Can hold things like a sword right?"

"It can!" He waited for Leo to pull back and held his bow out placing it into the palm of the hand to show Leo that the finger gripped around the staff, then with a little pull was able to get the fingers to let go. "I spent a few days having April trouble shoot some things with her classmates to get it to work like that y'know.." Leo patted Donnie's shoulder with a smile, "I bet you owe her big time huh? Well guess there's no time like the present, how do I put it on?"  Donnie's eyes lit up seeing Leo excited to try the arm on, he helped him put the arm on and adjust it, "Okay the sleeve inside comes out so if it sticks to your arm when you take it off don't worry you didn't break it. And its water proof for the most part just don't soak it in water- Not that you would but, y'know.. It isn't a shield either okay? It can take a beating sure but it's not bullet proof or anything."

"Yeah yeah, don't be stupid, I got it." Donnie gently slapped the back of Leo's head as he finished adjusting the arm, "I'm telling you to be safe dum-dum. Can't have any more parts of yours going missing.." Leo looked down at the arm, gently lifting it and watching it bend. "This is.. Really cool... Does anyone else know about it?"

"Nah.. I figured after everything we could have a secret of our own for a while. I won't mention it till you want me to." Leo nodded and thought about it for a moment, his signature shit eating grin spreading across his face when he got an idea. "I have the perfect plan then. If you're up for a prank~?"

"Im listening..?"

"It involves stealth, timing, mischief, and a little bit of fake blood if we have it- Perhaps even some dramatic acting?"

"Brother, I couldn't think of a better way to reveal my genius- I'm in, just tell me what to do"

Part 1

TS Master Post

[just-a-creep-babe]

Brat’s Punishment

(Masky x Red x Hoodie) (OC) (NSFW)

Commissioned by @falling-electricxangel -- tysm luv!! ❤❤

Masterlist: x

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

“Don’t fucking try to weasel your way out of this one, Red,” he sneers

Masky’s pissed

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure that much out

It also wouldn’t take a genius to realize you probably shouldn’t provoke him any further

But you have a nasty habit of always writing a check you can’t cash

So with a “hmp,” you fold your arms over your chest and decide to feign ignorance

“I don’t fucking know what happened to them, Masky. Maybe you smoked them all like you usually do. Don’t try to pin this on me just cause you want someone to buy you a fresh pack”

Oh, you’ve really done it now

“Red.”

He takes a menacing step towards you as he snarls your name out

You don’t want to back down

You shouldn’t show weakness

But he’s so imposing—his larger form towering over yours—it’s almost impossible to resist mimicking his step backward

“Give them back, now, and I might rethink all the ways I’m planning on making you pay for them”

His threat shouldn’t resonate the way it does throughout your body

A shiver that shouldn’t respond to his malice licks up your spine

You try to play it off like it’s nothing

“You don’t scare me,” you lie, “and you have no proof it was me. Why don’t you go bother Hoodie for them instead?”

Over the years of being around the proxies, you should know by now that mentioning Hoodie has a weird side-effect of summoning him

You feel something shift in your back pocket

It’s faint, just barely even noticeable

And next thing you know, the remainder of Masky’s cigs materialize next to you in a familiar-looking hand

Masky snatches them from Hoodie before you can

He holds them up to you, and when you try to back away to make your dashing escape, you find yourself colliding with Hoodie behind you

His hands wrap around your wrists, like he knows you were trying to get away

Your body tenses, and it has him chuckling, his breath warm against your neck

“If you didn’t steal them, then what the fuck are these?”

All signs point towards you giving up

You should come clean

But you’ve always been one to push your luck past its limits

So with an overinflated sense of confidence to compensate for how utterly hopeless you are, you shrug

“Those are my cigs”

“Bullshit,” he calls, his eyes narrowing

You want to turn away, but Hoodie’s grip is too firm for you to jerk free

They know your tricks

“What do you want, a receipt or something?” you hiss sarcastically

“They’re the same brand I always get. And I know for a fact that you didn’t buy them yourself,” Masky interrupts

“Don’t try to lie to us, sweetheart,” Hoodie joins with a snicker, “you know you got caught, you can’t escape it”

His grasp around you tightens as if to prove his point

A knot coils in your stomach

You’re torn between wanting to give in and wanting to push your luck just a bit further

“I’m not lying,” you insist, “stop trying to pin this on me”

With one last threatening step on Masky’s part, you find yourself pressing up between both men

They feel almost unbearably warm and solid on either side of you

You feel like you just might melt

“Aww, look at that,” Hoodie hums, “she’s getting all flustered~”

His teasing only aggravates the warmth spreading to your cheeks

You jerk against his hold one last time, but he doesn’t budge in the slightest

He’s too strong for you

“You’re just begging for a punishment, aren’t you?”

Masky grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger

He jerks your head up so that you’ve no choice but to make eye contact with him

His dark eyes survey yours, almost like he’s daring you to say something

You swallow thickly

For the first time in a while, you’re at a loss for words

He rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, and his eyes suddenly fixate on your mouth, like he’s in some kind of trance

When he pushes the digit past your lips, it has you whimpering

“Suck,” he orders

His voice sounds low and husky and hungry

You do as he says without arguing because, admittedly, you want this

He presses his thumb down onto your tongue, then moves it back and forth and in and out of your welcoming mouth

“There we go, you’re much more obedient when you can’t talk back, aren’t you?”

You squeeze your thighs together—as if it could help relieve the ache gnawing at your core

Hoodie seems to catch on to what you’re doing

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck with a velvety chuckle, like he’s amused by your obvious desire

“I bet she’d rather suck on something bigger~”

His teeth scrape against your throat, teasing at your fluttering pulse

“Yeah, a cocky little brat like that needs something to shut you up, don’t you?”

Masky tilts his head, a cruel grin spreading on his face

“That why you’re always stealing my cigs? You need something to keep your mouth busy? Or you just like the negative attention?”

Hoodie somehow pushes up closer against you, until he’s full-on grinding his pelvis against your backside

You stifle a moan as both of their erections dig into your most sensitive spots

Your thoughts are racing a mile a minute

You want them

And it seems like the feeling’s mutual

“Get on your knees”

Masky’s sudden command has your stomach fluttering as he retracts his digit from your lips

You know you shouldn’t be such a damn brat—especially not after everything you’ve done—but you can’t help challenge his authority, just to see what he’d do

“Make me”

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back

You’re forced to your knees before you can even register what’s happening

“Cocky little brat,” Masky snarls

His hands impatiently tug at his belt, and you notice Hoodie doing the same

“Don’t worry, we’ll be sure to put you right back into your place, sweetheart~”

The pit of your stomach clenches fervently as Hoodie finally pulls himself free

You can tell by the self-satisfied grin on his face that he likes your reaction

But you just can’t help but admire the sight of him; he’s long and hard and throbbing, with just the right amount of girth you know will be more than enough to satiate you

He runs his hand up and down his length, just inches from your face, like he’s teasing you on purpose

You want to taste him

You’re about to bring your mouth up to him when Masky abruptly steals your attention, like he’s jealous of the way you were eyeing his best friend

He wraps his belt around your throat in a makeshift leash, letting the worn leather bite into your neck, and with a short tug, he pulls you towards him

You gasp, the breath escaping your lungs before you quickly manage to recover

You know that was just a warning

“Come here, pet”

You want to bite back some sassy retort, but he releases his erection from his pants, and once again, you find yourself speechless

“Open”

You don’t need to be told twice

You part your lips and stick your tongue out so that he can tap the head of his thick cock against it

“Atta girl, finally fucking listening, aren’t you?”

Masky’s voice is like a low growl—it brings a shiver from your spine all the way down to your sex

He pushes his hips forwards until the tip of his length is hitting the very back of your throat, and when you hollow out your cheeks around him, he tugs at the belt and groans

“Fuck”

The way he curses has your core throbbing

You shift in place, the ache slowly becoming unbearable

“God, you look fucking cute with a dick down your throat”

Hoodie’s filthy praise has you whimpering around Masky, earning yet another guttural cuss from the proxy

A short yank to the belt, and Masky somehow forces himself deeper down your throat

You gag around him, and Hoodie chuckles, his fist leisurely moving up and down his cock

“Looks like we finally found a good use for that cocky mouth of yours, huh?”

He strokes himself from the base of his shaft all the way up to the tip

And then he gives a few playful taps to the side of your face, smearing his precum on your cheek like he’s claiming you

“Good slut~” he teases

It doesn’t take long for Masky to lose himself to the feeling of your lips wrapping around him

Using his belt as leverage, he starts pumping his length at a more demanding pace—using you like you’re just a toy for his pleasure

The leather strap tightens around your throat until you can barely breathe

Your eyes start to water, saliva dribbling down from around Masky’s dick and onto your own chest

You’re making a mess

Every time he hits the back of your throat, you make an indignant noise, like a gag or a whimper, and it has him groaning and sighing

You can tell Hoodie’s enjoying the sight

“Aww, is our poor little brat struggling to keep up?” he coos mockingly, his thumb smearing at the excess precum beading at his tip

You look up at him, almost pleadingly with your mouth stuffed full, and his cock twitches in his hand

He snickers

“Fuck, how cute~”

Like he’s trying to steal your attention away again, Masky gives  a particularly rough thrust, and you gag again, your hands blindly reaching for his calves to find something to brace yourself against

“Don’t fucking try to look away when I’m punishing you”

Your fingers dig into his legs as you choke around him

You’re getting lightheaded

But your struggle only encourages him to fuck your throat faster and harder

“You want a break, hm? Can’t handle having your bratty little mouth used like this?”

When you whimper in response to Masky’s cruel teasing, he grunts

“Too bad, sunshine. This is what filthy little thieves get,” he hisses

With every push of his hips in and out of your open mouth, you can feel his length pulsing on your tongue

If you weren’t getting desperate for his cock before, you most certainly are now

It’s like your body’s on fire, and the only way to make it stop is for one of them to just fuck you already

You can tell Hoodie’s getting impatient as well

He crouches behind you, his hands reaching under your shirt to pinch and grope at your tits

You moan in response, your sex clenching around nothing, and Masky groans

“Take her shirt off, I wanna see more of her”

Hoodie happily obliges

The material’s easily ripped off your chest, exposing your tits for the both of them to enjoy

Filthy compliments fall from Hoodie’s lips as his hands busy themselves with your chest

Your stomach tightens with every dirty word of praise, and even more so when he tugs on your sensitive nipples 

You need them

As if they can read your mind, Masky pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you to his dick before snapping off

He adjusts the belt around your throat to give you more slack, and you breathe gratefully as the air fills your lungs

“Hands and knees. Now”

You’re too dazed to disobey

When you do as he orders, you feel Hoodie yank your pants down and give a rough smack! to your ass

“God, she’s fucking drenched,” he groans

His hands tease at your soaked underwear, stroking up and down your  slit before moving the material to the side to reveal your dripping sex

Masky shifts to his knees in front of you, this time gripping at your hair to get you to look up at him

“Don’t think I’m done punishing that bratty mouth just yet,” he grunts, “after all that talking back, you’re taking every fucking drop of cum down your throat”

Before you can say anything, he crams himself all the way back in between your lips

Almost at the exact same time, Hoodie pushes forwards to sheathe the entirety of his length into your exposed cunt

Your eyes roll back, jaw going slack around Masky as Hoodie stretches you out oh so perfectly

He cusses at the way your walls grip him so tightly, then grabs a fistful of the flesh of your ass before giving another spank!

Masky chuckles at your reaction, his cock twitching as he slides it in and out of your mouth

“Mmh, you already look so fucked out of your mind. Was that really all it took? Just a bit of throat fucking, and you turn all needy and submissive for us?”

He pushes the tip of his length into the side of your mouth and gives a few taps over the bulge it creates in your cheek

“Maybe next time, you’ll learn not to take what’s not yours. Or is this just gonna make you wanna do it even more now?”

Any other time, you’d gladly shit-talk him back for being so arrogant and condescending

But right now, all you can think about is how good it feels to have them both using you at the same time

Hoodie’s pace is slow and deep, like he’s taking his time to enjoy the way your sopping cunt sucks him in and out 

He reaches around to toy with your clit, and when you clench around him, he hums a deliciously husky “fuck, good girl~ Squeeze my dick nice and hard for me~”

You know you won’t be able to last very long

With every roll of his pelvis into you, your cunt flutters and an involuntary moan escapes your busy mouth

When your thighs start shaking, they must be able to tell you’re getting close because they get rougher

Masky’s thrusts become more erratic as he watches the dazed, fucked-out look on your face with a sardonic grin

Hoodie brings his hand down on your ass over and over again in a slew of punishing smacks as he plunges himself so deep, you swear he’s nearly hitting your cervix

You’re reduced to a pathetic shaking, drooling mess between the two

Too much, it’s all too much

When your orgasm crashes into you, it’s overwhelming 

Your eyes roll back, your back arching as your cunt gushes around Hoodie’s cock

Masky yanks on your leash, forcing himself to the very back of your mouth with a low groan that has you moaning around him

His hips still, and you feel his cock pulse as he releases down your throat, just like he said he would

You try not to choke on his cum through the midst of your orgasm—but there’s so much of it

He releases everything he had pent up for you, then gives a few slow, languid thrusts to enjoy the warmth of your mouth just a bit longer

Hoodie’s grip on your hips and ass is bruising as he nears

It’s like he’s not just pounding into you anymore—he’s using your body to jerk himself off

Right as the stimulation is on the cusp of becoming painful, his cock throbs inside your squelching walls and he empties himself inside you

They both take a few moments to savor the way you feel around them; your cunt full, still fluttering around Hoodie with your lips pleasantly wrapped around Masky’s girth

And by the time they both finally pull out, you nearly collapse

You’re a shaking mess, cum dripping out of you, drool all over your bare chest—they’re wrecked you

Masky gives one final tug of his belt to force you to look up at him

He snickers at the look in your eyes

“Looks like we found the perfect way to deal with that bratty little mouth of yours, haven’t we, Red?~”

[panicatthediaz]

My, my, looks who's alive! Another fic of mine has been consuming my thoughts. I just finished the first chapter for that one at a little over 6k words. Fun stuff. I want to post that one for Halloween (though with the Steddie big bang, who knows), but we'll see. I might hold off on that one and try an focus on this one once more? We'll see. For now, enjoy! Oh, if the @ tags don't work, or if you just don't want to be tagged like that, I'll also be using the "Pin a String fic" tag :)

[Part 1] – [Part 11] – [Part 13]

@madaboutmunson @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dijkstraspath @spectrum-spectre @epiclazershark @redheadchimechild @steddie-there @gayngerthings @manda-panda-monium @goodolefashionedloverboi

Pin a String to My Chest – 12

The reunion

Wayne had been coming to work as usual during the week Eddie was missing, confident that he'd show up fine, returning from an improvised trip he and the older boys from the club decided to go on. Nevermind the fact that Eddie hadn't called; he'd never failed to let Wayne know where he was before.

He knew Eddie wouldn't have killed that girl, maybe someone just broke into their trailer—

A full week after finding her body in the trailer, he got a call from the hospital, saying that Eddie had been admitted during the night. He spent the rest of that day as well as the night there. The next morning, the press announced his kid's innocence — to some people's surprise, apparently, if the nonsensical noise he heard from the TV was anything to go by.

They went on about a man called Peter Ballard, obsessed with the Creel murders and determined to recreate them. He chose their targets, stalked them, and killed them a few days later. Chrissy Cunningham happened to be most vulnerable when she decided to reconnect with an old middle school acquaintance.

Wayne didn't pay much attention to the TV after that. He made the calls he had to in order to stay with Eddie in the hospital, but he'd still have to work some nights. Not many, but some.

He met the people who claimed to have helped Eddie, and despite the insane story they all told him, he found he believed them. Hopper coming back from the dead — or wherever he was taken to, he supposed — and confirming it all helped. A little.

The Henderson kid was there as often as he could, often doing his homework next to Eddie's bed and talking about it as if Eddie would reply to him at any moment, tired of all the science talk. Wayne worried about the kid, but he didn't know what to tell him, especially not when the first thing he did was hand over Eddie's necklace.

Dustin was there. With him, the Wheeler girl had said. Wayne couldn't imagine what that must have been like.

Eddie had been admitted ten days ago. This was the third night Wayne had to go to work since then. He'd been doing his best to ignore the guilty looks as much as the disbelieving ones, and so far, no one had tried talking about it all in his vicinity. Now, he knew people were talking elsewhere, but as long as he didn't hear it, it should be fine.

Wayne shouldn't be here. He knew that, his coworkers knew that, his boss knew that, but apparently he didn't have a choice.

The call came close to 4 am, about two hours before the end of his shift. One of the supervisors, a man he could never remember the name of given how rarely he saw him, called out for him, saying there was someone on the phone.

"It's from Hawkins General," he clarified softly once Wayne was close enough. "Didn't say much, but I assume it's about your nephew."

Wayne was quick to thank him and walk into the office. He picked up the phone with a deep breath.

"Hello? This is Wayne Munson."

"Mr. Munson," a woman answered, sounding too chirpy for the hour. "It's Linda." Right, Eddie's nurse every other night. She was one of the nicest ones he'd met so far, always a kind word and gentle touches where his nephew was concerned. "You might want to get here soon, Eddie just woke up."

She had promised to call him if anything happened, personally. Wayne's heart was racing, at first for the fact she was calling at all, but then for the fact that Eddie had woken up. She spoke some more, though he wasn't sure he absorbed much of it.

He hung up with a promise to be there as soon as possible. He spoke briefly to his supervisor before the man was waving him off.

"Just go, I got this."

He never drove so quickly in his life.

Linda was waiting for him at the front desk, her smile widening when she saw the state he arrived in.

"I told you he was tired, Mr. Munson," she said, turning to walk further into the hospital without preambles. "You could have taken your time driving."

Wayne shook his head even though she couldn't see it. "You said he asked for me? No way in hell I'm keepin' him waiting."

Linda didn't try making small talk after that, leading the way to Eddie's room. Not that Wayne needed directions after spending most of the last ten days here, but the sentiment was nice.

She opened the door gently, letting Wayne step in first. Eddie seemed to be asleep, but it was clear he had woken up at some point; the thin blanket covered only half of his uninjured leg, the other slightly elevated with a pillow. It looked like Eddie had tried to move around. His left arm was in a sling, probably to keep him from stretching the wound on his chest and shoulder.

"Let me know if you need anything," Linda said from the door.

Wayne nodded absently as she closed the door. He moved the chair closer to Eddie's bed, the scraping noise enough to make his nephew's face scrunch up.

"Hey, kid." He kept his voice soft, not wanting to disturb Eddie if he wasn't awake but letting him know he was there just in case.

"Wayne?"

God, the kid's voice was rough. He gently patted Eddie's forearm, avoiding the bandages, and kept his hand there.

Eddie's eyes fluttered open, face creasing in drowsiness and confusion. "You…?"

"I'm here, Eddie," he reassured. He was probably smiling a little too wide for what Eddie was used to, but he didn't really care. Wayne helped him drink some water from a cup left on his bedside before asking, "How are you feeling?"

Eddie moved to shrug a little, but grimaced in pain. "Achy," he said, with a scrunched up expression that told the discomfort was a little deeper than that. "What happened?"

Wayne shook his head. There wasn't much point in talking about it when Eddie looked on the verge of sleep once more. If Eddie had actually forgotten the circumstances of his injuries, he guessed having the rest of his little monster slaying group around would help more than Wayne talking about it could.

"We'll talk when I'm sure you won't forget it."

Eddie hummed, nodding slowly. "Stayin'?" He asked, slipping into an accent that didn't come out often. His eyes slipped close, head slightly turned to him. "Missed you."

"I missed you too, kid." He squeezed the arm he was still holding. "I'm not goin' anywhere, go back to sleep."

Wayne made himself as comfortable in the hospital chair as he could, not once letting go of his nephew. The kid seemed relaxed, though that might be the work of the painkillers; Wayne had been told the state Eddie arrived in, and he guessed the painkillers would be needed for a while.

Minutes passed in silence, as Wayne watched Eddie breathe. It had become routine, making sure his nephew was still there. It was because of that routine that Wayne saw his face contorting into a frown right before he groaned.

"Eddie?" He asked, leaning closer to him. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Thinkin'," he mumbled, slurring with sleep. "Not goin' to the concert next week, huh?"

"That's, uh, that's tomorrow, actually." Eddie let out a questioning noise that sounded awfully confused. "It's…" He trailed off, glancing backwards at the clock on the wall. "It's almost 5 am on April 7th, kid."

Eddie was staring at him, confusion clear in his eyes despite the low light. He looked away after a moment, turning his gaze forward.

"Oh," he whispered. He took a deep breath — as deep as he could, all things considered. "Okay."

Wayne couldn't help but raise a brow at his non-reaction. Eddie had been excited for this concert for weeks, going on rants about the concert whenever he lay eyes on the tickets that Wayne was safekeeping. Metallica and Ozzy. Eddie had learned a song or another from one of them, Wayne couldn't tell which one. He'd spent so much time practicing it…

"Don't look at me like that," Eddie mumbled, frowning. "Can't do shit about it now." He pulled his arm free of Wayne's hold and slowly rubbed his eyes. "Should've just—"

"Not been attacked?"

Eddie froze. So he did remember. He slowly turned to look at Wayne, who wanted to grimace as the movement seemed to stretch the bandage on Eddie's neck. His eyes were wide, looking afraid in a way Wayne hadn't seen since Lauren brought him over at 7 years old.

"I—I didn't…" His breathing picked up, and his hand pressed against the bandage on his chest. "I didn't do it." He shook his head, grimacing. "I wouldn't—"

I wouldn't hurt them.

Eddie couldn't finish his sentence, but the desperation in his eyes made it clear what he wanted to say. Wayne knew he didn't do it, that he would never hurt anyone. He knew who the actual murderer was.

"Eddie, son," he grabbed his hand, one of the few areas free of bandages. "I know, okay?" Eddie's gaze was fleeting between his eyes, looking for a catch he wouldn't find. "I need you to breathe, Eddie, as deep as you can."

It took a couple of minutes and many repeated words before Eddie was breathing easily once more. He was frowning, clenching his hand around Wayne's fingers.

"There you are," Wayne said softly. "Your new gaggle of friends made sure I knew what was going on."

Eddie's expression didn't change, but he nodded. "You… You believe 'em?"

"Got no reason not to." He shrugged. "Hopper coming back from wherever he was sure helped."

Eddie opened his mouth to question it, most likely, but all that came out was a tired sigh. "Sure, whatever."

Chuckling, Wayne patted Eddie's head, making a bigger mess of the kid's hair. He was sure that Eddie would demand a wash soon.

"Get some rest, son, I'll be here."

Eddie hummed and, surprisingly obedient, closed his eyes. He moved a little to adjust himself on the bed and was out almost as soon as he got comfortable.

It wasn't long before Wayne fell asleep as well, more tired than he'd realized after a nearly full shift.

[kyyuri]

to be or not ! -yang jungwon

special chap ! the fund raiser (smau + written)

★彡 synopsis: what happens when y/n, who is hopelessly pinning over her best friend, jungwon- gets betrayed by not one, but both of them ?! and what happens when jungwon falls for her despite all odds ?

a/n: GOSH IT FEELS GREAT TO BE BACK! sorry for the prolonged hiatus,, i had a lot of major exams this year and it was really tough >< but theyve finally ended so i will be updating more frequently! please continue to support this smau as always <3 (ps. 2 more chapters and this series ends officially 😭😭 might do spin offs if you guys want !)

word count: 694

taglist 2 ! 6 slots left

perm taglist open !

after days and dayyyyssss of hard work, jungwon had finally managed to pull off the perfect cake using the perfect recipe. jumping in joy, he slowly put the cake into the refrigerator. only 12 more hours till the eventful day he had planned. his heart was beating really fast. what if you said no ? what if you grew to resent him instead ? holding the keychain you returned him in his hands, he prayed to god. “please please please dont let me screw the only good thing in my life up again.”

[d-day]

as expected, the hallway was jam packed with students, turning round each corner ready to try all the booths out. “jay oppa, hows all the funds so far ? “ you asked, packing another box of cookies for the students. “its going great, apart from the fact sunghoon is too busy taking fan pictures to even lend a hand. on the bright side, his face itself earned us $150 so far.” you chuckled “thats good to hear.” handing the box to the male student infront of you, you smiled, “ have a great day ! feel free to come back for more !” upon noticing his hesitance to leave, you were quick to question why. “can… CAN I GET YOUR PHONE NUMBER ?” he shouted at the top of his lungs, making the both of you flustered. you were too shocked to even speak. “um…um..” just then you felt someone hugging you from behind. “ynnnnnnnn~ its lonely here… come back quick please ..?” jungwon whined. the guy from before instantly took the hint that you were off limits once jungwon sent a glare his way. you giggled “okay wonie. lets go. “ jungwon just couldnt wait for the lunch shift to be over. “ill take over from here.” heeseung said giving a wink to jungwon. it was the signal. the signal to for ynwon final project. “thanks hyung !” and with that jungwon dragged you out of that class, bringing you to the school rooftop.

“wonie why are we heading for the rooftop ? what about the bake sale ? its not over yet. “ “i know that but i wanna show you something.” as the door to the rooftop swung open, your jaws dropped. “wonie.. whats this ?” he smiled. “i prepared this for you ! oh and also this cake ! heeseung hyung taught me how to bake a while back.” he scratched the back of his head sheepishly “ a small smile creeped up on your face. “ thank you wonie. for everything. all the thoughts and effort you put into this. “ but when you turned from the view to face jungwon, all you see is a nervous boy. “won..ie ?” “i- i have something to say ! please let me finish everything before you speak. i- i- i have a crush on you and i didnt realised that i did i thought it was all normal and it took me a dating yujin to figure out that my feelings for her were ones of friendliness and my feelings for you are ones that can blossom into something more. i know i gave you a really hard time recently because of everything that went down and im really sorry for that and i understand if yo-you dont like me back anymore ! its really ok if you don-“ before he could finish his rambling, you leaned in and gave him a little peck on his cheeks. “wonie, i get it. you dont have to be sorry anymore. and besides, i like you back so isnt this a win for us ?” he looked at you absolutely stunned. “really ? you do ?” you nodded. he squeezed you into a tight hug “ im never going to let anyone take you away from me !!”

“sweet ! im getting my robux !” niki cheered softly from behind the door to the rooftop, earning himself a nice slap on the back from sunoo. “shh ! let the new couple enjoy their time together. i cant believe it took jungwon so many years to acknowledge his TRUE feelings.”

<prev > <masterlist> <next>

taglist 1! @enhacolor @yougeans @anti-romantic5 @urresidentdrugdealer @ncityy04 @tyonvrs @fairydosii @dazzledsohn @hwalllllllelujah @mitsukifilms @yizhoutv @kyutiepeachy @tlnyjoong @sunshine-skz @meiiiwa @pr0dbeomgyu @tobiosbbyghorl @yogurteume @alderiasamantha @woopetals @beemarkie @hibuki-chan @nyfwyeonjun @yvesismywife @yjwfav @diestheticu @woniecore @wonluvrbot @enhawonie @nyfwyeonjun @acciomylove @missmadwoman @hiqhkey @wntrsgf @jungwonerz @cuteyeonnie23 @angel-hyuckie @hobistigma @alo-ehas @rielleluvs @heesunki @yubinism @wonsgf @dinosdance @nrksrealgf @sunheeluvbot @aria-grace-scott @luvrjn @c9tnoos @tomorrowbymoa-together @wonie-core @lunaflvms

[the-s1lly-corner]

*tagging this since a lot of reoccuring folk who interact or ask things dont follow me (no hate I get it!!)

Oh oh also! I feel the need to bring this up since I'm getting loads of new followers from my spot/Jonathan x y/n ohnn posts!

Future admin note; TLDR below IS the entire post because it summed up everything I needed/wanted to say better than the initial ramble and I'm too silly to reword it into

Not being a TLDR

TLDR since a lot of it is admin rambling and getting off topic; this is a multi fandom blog that primarily centers around the admins current hyperfixiation (due to how strong the admin experiences brainrot), but defaults to creepypasta content when the admin either

A) doesnt have a particular rot

B) is embarassed of their current rot (I'm cringe and not free)

C) the fandom is very obscure or small

On average a hyperfixiation for the admin can last from a few weeks to a few months, and usually when one dies it can take a long time to reignite if at all. Because of how intense their interests get, it can become incredibly difficult for the admin to write outside of the current fandom.

Basically I just wanna warn you guys that I'm uncertain how long I'll be writing for spot and for how long my hc lists for him will remain decent quality and I want you guys to know ahead of time before the spiderverse rot inevitably dies <\3

It won't be an outright ban on spot writings though!! I'll probably rework my pinned to have two lists; one for main interests and a side for characters I'm comfy writing with

The only real thing that will change is a fluctuation in passion and posting frequency

I will say when my spiderverse fixiation dies I can almost guarantee that it'll be revived when beyond comes out

That's just a fact, whenever a new part to an old interest is released it always comes back

Seen it with the owl house (the finale episodes coming out), seen it with Fran Bow (creators getting REAL active with releasing character stuff and merch recently), Overwatch (I blame ramattra for bringing back that one. Before that the last time I touched OVW was in like. 2016? So literally when the game first came out) and probably a few others

Those are the only two examples I can think of

Anyways

Yeah!! Thats really all! I guess I'd just feel guilty if I suddenly had a visible attitude shift in passion and hype around spot <\3

And I dont want to throw any one off with that random shift when it comes, esp because so many of you like my silly rambles

As of now the interest is fairly strong so yall dont gotta worry yet!!

So yeah!!

Remember to drink water and get plenty of rest, take your meds and have an amazing day!

TLDR for the TLDR that turned into the entire post;

Admin is autistic (/srs) and bounces around fandoms a lot as interests come and go, said interests sometimes totally consuming their entire brain to the point they cant think/create/interact with anything outside the hyperfixiation, and when a new fixiation comes in the old one dies leaving behind little to no incentive to create for it

Admin really doesnt like how their brain works for this but :(

[bleachanimefan1]

The Midnight Masquerade Part 9

His Butler, Freeloader,

With that, the Jack the Ripper case came to a close. A funeral was given to Madame Red. The first snow began to fall as winter was coming. London returned to its peaceful state, but only for a short time. Recently, there was a strange case involving British men returning home from India being continuously attacked. They were stripped of their belongings and hanged upside down in the middle of the street in front of a coffee shop in Portman Square. Even noble men and soldiers were meeting the same fate. They all had papers stuck to them as a warning that had a drawing of a tongue sticking out. Several of Scotland Yard officers were already at the scene investigating. Police commissioner, Lord Randall and Officer, Fred Aberline.

"Blast it! This is the 20th one now!" Randall growled crumpling up the warning note in frustration. "You haven't caught the culprit yet, Aberline?"

"I'm sorry, sir!"

"Feh, and the glory of the Jack the Ripper case was stolen from us also by that little brat."

"Sorry to be such a brat." 

The two men jumped and saw Ciel and Sebastian and Cassandra standing behind them.

"Earl Phantomhive!" Randall sputtered.

"Oi, you! How in the hell did you get here!?" Aberline questioned Ciel but the commissioner stopped him.

"Lord Phantomhive, why are you here?"

"Why else, I'm here to clean up the mess made by a pathetic hunting dog. A crime targeted only by people who returned from India. The victims are not dead as well."

"You can't just!-" The police commissioner growled before Ciel showed him the letter stamped with the queen's seal on it. 

"If it was just a highway man, I wouldn't be involved. However, I won't sit by and watch the royal family be insulted." Ciel smirked. The police commissioner glared at Ciel as he started to look at the warning letters taped to the victims.

"The criminals are described as chosen children of sloth and depravity, which is quite accurate. I agree that England would be better off without India's wealthy upstarts."

"They are cowards who are too busy with extravagance and indulged in worthless past times."

"And what's with this mark?" Ciel wondered, sticking out his tongue.

"He's making a fool of us British and the Queen! Targeting only those who return from India means that the criminal can't be anyone else but an Indian barbarian!" the police commission 

"Or someone who's trying to pin the blame on them." Cassandra pointed out.

"A woman like you shouldn't even be involved."

"Wow, I didn't know Scotland yard were such sexists." Cassandra smirked, causing Ciel to make a small smile and Sebastian to laugh a little. Aberline's eyes widen a little in shock while the police commissioner gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes at Cassandra.

"You watch your tongue, woman-"

"Maybe, you should watch yours. What would the people think if their only protectors are spouting out accusations?" She smiled. 

"A majority of smuggling Indians have a stronghold in the east end. I can see that even city yards don't know what to do with a dark street like east end. It's hard to identify the route or the number of smugglers, right?" Ciel added. "Sebastian, let's go." and the three left.

As they continued walking, Cassandra noticed Sebastian staring at her quietly, shifting his gaze to her every now and then. It was starting to annoy her.

"Is there something that you want to say?" she asked him.

"Tell me, what do you remember the other week during the Jack the Ripper case?" Sebastian asked.

"I'm still trying to forget that it ever happened to begin with. However, I can recall some moments. Grell's not human..." She told him. "And the fact that you're not human as well."

"Anything else?" Sebastian asked her.

"That you have some ties with Ciel." Cassandra spoke and she saw Ciel tense up a little. "Not that I care. Whatever you two have, I don't want to get involved."

"Oh, and I thought you cared deeply for my young master." Sebastian teased. "Even for his safety."

"You do know I can hear everything that you two are talking about, right?" Ciel murmured.

"And do you?" Cassandra asked Sebastian, who blinked at her in surprise. "Will you protect Ciel from every danger that should befall him?"

"What kind of butler would I be, if I didn't." Sebastian smirked. "I am bound to my master until the end."

They stopped in front a dark alley that had some stairs leading down to secret club. They stepped inside and the strong smell of incense filled the air. Cassandra nearly gagged, covering her nose while Ciel did the same.

"That smells awful."

"So, you finally found this place, Earl." Lau spoke. Ran Mao was sitting in his lap. "It feels kind of weird to see me this way, however I always knew that day would come." There were multiple women surrounding Lau, cuddling around him.

"And what kind of day is that!?" Ciel exclaimed.

"So, how have you been? Wasn't your birthday recent? Congrats."

"I don't really celebrate such things." Ciel replied. "I have something to ask you."

"The earl has come all the way to anagura, to ask me about that incident, am I right?" Lau smirked.

"Word spread around fast. I have been investigating that incident. If it's about Orientals, the fastest way to find anything out is to ask who has the strong influence around here. The president of the British branch of the Chinese trading company, KunLun. No, the Shanghai mafia, Qingbang executive, Lau." Ciel spoke.

"I don't like to be addressed that way. It's too formal." Lau sighed.

"Then I'll leave the east end in your care. The number of people who move in and out of this street are under your control, right?" Ciel asked.

"Of course, I have done what you've asked. It's the bribe that allows me to do business in the underworld of this country. So, firstly, I want to ask you one thing. What exactly is that incident?"

Ciel blinked at him in disbelief. "You..."

"It's about the British men that were attacked when they were returning back from their trips from India." Cassandra reminded Lau.

"Ah! That's it! So, you want to arrest that mischievous kid. Since there are no casualties, it must because he's targeting the upper class. Setting an example of the people must be tiring for you, Earl."

"Nonsense." Ciel scoffed. 

"Nevertheless, we've walked a long way to get here. So where is this stronghold of Indian people?" Sebastian asked. Lau began to take them to the east street to the stronghold. 

"So, when are you going to drop this investigation business and come work for me? I could use a woman such as you." Lau asked Cassandra. "Not really my type of thing. Besides, do you even know where we're going?" Cassandra narrowed her eyes at Lau. Lau blinked, looking around and smiled sheepishly. He had gotten them lost.

"You!" Ciel growled in irrigation. Then an Indian man dressed in rags began to walk over to them and bumped into Ciel.

"It hurts! My ribs are cracked!" He cried out. Ciel stared at him in disbelief while Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

"From a small bump like that, very unlikely. Even from such a small child." She remarked. Ciel glared at her.

The man continued to cry out in pain causing more people to come out and they began to surround the group, giving them dirty looks. The man grabbed Ciel by his cape, pulling him up to his face.

"Showing up to a place like this, you're asking for it. That's quite a nice dress you have there, young man! A noble, eh?" He sneered. Ciel smacked his hand off of him.

"Pay me consolation money! Strip off everything you have it give it to me!" the man shouted.

"It seems we are caught amongst irritating punks, yet again, master." Sebastian sighed. "Shall I?"

"Dispose of them." Ciel ordered.

"As you wish." Sebastian smirked.

"All of you noblemen are alike! They brought us all the way from India and dumped us off like trash! All you British are selfish!"

The man pulled out a knife and several people began to pull out weapons from their clothes, cheering along with the raged man.

"Because of you guys we've ended up like miserable gutter rats! Our country was walked all over by your shoes! We'll give you a taste of how it feels to be plundered and humiliated!"

"First of all, I have something to ask all of you! If the answer is truthful, I will treat you all to delicious food as a reward!" a voice shouted.

The group blinked in confusion and looked to see who it was. So did Ciel, Cassandra, Lau and Sebastian. There was a young Indian man with dark skin, purple hair up in a ponytail, dressed in rich, exotic robes. There was another man standing behind him with short white hair, wearing robes and a turban and his arm was wrapped in bandages.

"I am looking for a woman. Have you seen anyone who looks like this?" He asked and pulled out a really bad drawing that looked like a child had drawn. The man with the knife, stormed over to him and threatened the Indian noble with it.

"You're in the way you bastard! Get lost!"

"How rude, calling me such impolite names." the noble frowned then glanced over at the group. "Are you guys joining in the fight as well?"

"Hey, don't ignore me!"

The noble's eyes widen a little as he saw Cassandra, staring at her for a long time, lost in a trance. "Such a rare beauty." He murmured then he noticed Sebastian. "A butler? You are British noblemen?"

"So, what if we are?" Ciel asked.

"Then I shall side with the people of my country. Agni, defeat them." the noble ordered. Agni began to unwrap his bandaged hand.

"You're wish is my command. I shall swing this fist blessed by the gods for my master's sake." He lunged at them. Sebastian pushed back Cassandra and grabbed Ciel, pushing him behind him as well, blocking Agni's punches. The demon was surprised as he was pushed back by the man's fierce strength. Then one of the Indian stragglers charged at them as well.

"Don't forget we are here also!" 

Sebastian ducked, causing Agni to accidentally punch the man in the face, knocking him down. Sebastian quickly grabbed Ciel, trying to gain some distance. Cassandra backed away from the crowd as they moved closer. She didn't want to hurt them, but they weren't leaving her any choice! One of them swung a bat at her and Cassandra quickly grabbed it and tore it away out of the man's grip. She kicked him back, knocking him into a few others and blocked a knife with the bat as another tried to attack her. Agni chased after Sebastian and began to jab his finger striking Sebastian's arm. Sebastian quickly landed on the ground a few feet away from him, unfazed by the attack.

"I've hit your pressure points many times. Your arm should be paralyzed. How is it that you can still fight?" Agni questioned.

"Why are you helping these guys!? We were just looking for answers and they were the ones who attacked us first!" Cassandra shouted. The Indian noble blinked at her in surprise then turned to the man that Agni had punched, who was starting to wake up, and the rest of the group.

"Hey, is that true? Did you really attack them for no reason?"

"Uh? No reason?" 

"That's not right! Picking fights for no reason is childish!" he scolded them. "Our brothers are in the wrong here. We shall help them out!"

Everyone stared at him in disbelief. Agni smiled as he knocked out every single bandit within a couple of seconds, standing on the pile of bodies. "It is done, Prince Soma!"

Soma picked up Ciel's hat and started to walk over to them. "You are not hurt, yes?"

"Er, no." Sebastian spoke. Soma placed Ciel's hat back on his head.

"Kid, this place isn't the kind of place for a kid like yourself to be wondering around in." He spoke then he looked over to Cassandra. "And a beautiful woman such as you, as well."

Cassandra frowned at him. "Who are you?" He smiled.

"My name is Prince Soma. I would like to talk some more but I'm in a middle of a search. Maybe, next time. Goodbye." He and his butler walked away, leaving the three of them confused as they watched them leave.

"Hey, where's Lau?" Cassandra asked. Ciel and Sebastian noticed that he was gone as well until they spotted him on a roof of one of the buildings.

"What exactly are you doing!?" Ciel shouted.

"Just waiting for the right moment to jump in." Lau smiled.

"Well, thanks for nothing!" Cassandra shouted. Lau jumped down, landing beside them.

"Who are those two? They're definitely not from the east end and they wear pretty clothing. And they're English is pretty good too." Lau asked.

"Let's just get these guys to Scotland Yard and call it a day." Cassandra said. 

Grell was sulking going through the piles of paperwork that Will had handed over to her. During the week after the Jack the Ripper case was over. The higher ups deemed "human form" as punishment and wasn't able to use any grim reaper powers to help assist with her work. Grell hated feeling like this. She wasn't pretty. She was weak. Grell sulked in her chair as she was going through the piles of paperwork that Will had handed over to her as well as writing a long-written apology.

"Will! How much longer do I have to do this!? I said that I was sorry!" She whined. "I want to see Bassy!"

"Until the board deems you as forgiven. And you shouldn't be associating with demons.  Sitting here, slacking off, isn't going to help and don't even think about asking the other reapers to do your work." Will told her, sternly.

"You're so mean, Will! That icy stare turns me on even more!" Grell grinned, wrapping her arms around Will's.

'Honestly, you have no standards, do you." Will rolled his eyes, pushing Grell off of him. Grell fell back roughly into the chair, causing it to fall backwards. Grell ended up smacking the back of her head.

Then Will saw a file with Cassandra's picture that was tucked out slightly on the edge of Grell's desk. Will gave Grell a suspicious look, wondering why he was looking at her file. "What are you doing with this? It's surprising to see you fascinated in something else for once."

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Grell asked, rubbing the back of her head, still feeling it throb, painfully. Grell saw Will point to Cassandra's picture. "Oh, her, she's just some silly human woman. Although, she does have something strange going on with her. No ordinary human can see cinematic records. And she even fought against me, a grim reaper, barely lasted a minute though."

"To think that girl is his daughter. I was surprised to see her for the first time myself when I came to retrieve you. The resemblance is uncanny." Will murmured.

"Eh?" Grell blinked at him confused. Will walked away, leaving Grell still confused. 

"Maybe you should catch up on your historic records." the reaper remarked and left. Grell blinked, still confused as she watched him leave. Maybe she can get quickly glance at the records before he noticed that she left. Grell quickly left the room and sneaked past some of the other reapers in the hallway, making it to the record hall. She quickly rummaged through the collections until a name met her gaze. "Gravesfield." 

Grell quickly took it and quickly ran back to the room. Good. Will wasn't back yet. She sat down and opened the file, going through it. 

 Johnathan Gravesfield. Date of Birth: unknown born in Surrey, England. Suicide by-the lettering and pages had faded over time by age, making it harder to read. Grell's eyes widen as she continued going through the file. Grim Reaper Dispatch, Afterlife citizen, #135546. Grell frowned in confusion. Afterlife citizen? What that? And what's with the number? She continued reading. A part of the Technological Advance Research Team. MIA in 1865, whereabouts unknown. Died 1878 in a tragic accident. 

Her eyes widen a little seeing a picture of a handsome young man that she couldn't take her eyes off of him. He had short platinum grey hair, wearing a white lab coat over his reaper suit. He had the same green, fluorescent glow that all reapers had. His facial features were completely identical to Cassandra's. Grell looked over Cassandra's file, looking at the date with Jonathan's, comparing them.

Gravesfield...Johnathan. He was Cassandra's father. He went missing before Cassandra was born four years later. Meaning, Cassandra was half human and half grim reaper. Grell slammed her hands on the desk, completely in shock. "Cassandra!?"

Grell yelped as she was whacked on the back of her head by Will's spear.

"What did I tell you about slacking off?"