#so i am all for not putting your dog on a lead all the time

[lymtw]

Toji invites you over with a simple text of:

You busy tonight, doll?

To which you respond with:

I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?

He laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.

Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?

I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.

You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.

Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.

Drive safe.

Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.

You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.

He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.

Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.

"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.

"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.

"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.

"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."

He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.

"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.

You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.

Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".

Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.

"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.

"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.

"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"

You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.

One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.

You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.

You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.

"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.

"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.

"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.

"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"

"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.

"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."

With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.

"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.

Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.

"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.

Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."

Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.

"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"

The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.

Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"

"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"

He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."

You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.

"So?" Toji prompts.

"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.

Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.

"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.

"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.

You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.

"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."

You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.

"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.

"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."

Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.

You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.

This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.

"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.

"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."

He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"

"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.

"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.

"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.

"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.

"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.

"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.

He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.

"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."

"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.

He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.

You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.

You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.

He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.

With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.

"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"

Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.

"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."

Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.

"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.

You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.

"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."

You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.

"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.

"Why not?"

"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."

"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.

"Toji, don't look at me."

"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.

"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.

"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."

"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.

"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.

"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.

"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.

"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."

You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.

"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.

"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.

"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.

"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.

Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.

"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."

Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.

"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."

You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.

"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."

You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."

Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.

"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.

Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.

"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.

"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.

"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"

"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.

Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.

"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."

"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."

"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.

"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.

"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.

"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.

"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.

You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.

There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.

You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...

"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.

"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.

Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.

You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."

Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."

"So... boring."

"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.

You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."

"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."

You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.

"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.

"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.

"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.

You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.

"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.

"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.

"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. "There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."

"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.

"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."

You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.

He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."

That went out to every version of you.

[1pepsiboy]

Falling Asleep on the Vlog - Matt Sturniolo Fluff (request)

Matt Sturniolo x reader!

Word count: 842

POV: Third (y/n)

Warnings: nothing except caring boyfriend Matt

***

Chris and Nick are ahead of you and Matt as you all piled into the house. Nick held the camera as they continued to record. The four of you went to get the new baja blast flavor from Taco Bell. Mostly for Chris since it was his idea after he saw an ad for it. Of course, there was also a party box of tacos that came home too. 

It was a long day at work for you. There were so many (rude) customers that you dealt with, and you helped with unloading the inventory that arrived. You only agreed to leave the house because Matt had to drive and you didn’t want to be alone. Being in the vlog?… That you were even less thrilled about since you looked like an absolute disaster. And your mood was not particularly cheerful. 

But coming over to the house always played the game of are they recording now or no? Matt was usually pretty good about giving you a heads up. He forgot to do it this time, but you couldn’t put all the blame on him. It was just part of the deal with dating him and being around their work. 

You reach the top of the stairs and Matt carefully starts to lead you toward the kitchen. You let go of Matt and your lightly laced fingers. Immediately, he turns around with puppy dog eyes. The scruff he had actually somehow made it cuter and more heartbreaking. 

“Where are you going?” His voice was so soft and only loud enough for you to hear. 

“No where, just want to chill on the couch till you're done.” You shoot him a small smile. 

This only makes slight concern cross his face and he steps in closer to you. “Is everything okay?”

You kiss him on the cheek. “Yeah, work was a lot today and I’m just tired.” 

“What happened? Your manager didn’t shit on you again, did they?”

Up to this point, you had been putting up a smoke screen, holding it together for your boyfriend and his brothers so they could get content. Without warning for either of you, tears welled up and slipped down your cheeks. 

“I do s-so much… I put up with a lot from customers… no one asks i-if I’m okay.”

Matt engulfed you in a tight bear hug and stroked your hair. He whispered into your ear, “Sssh, babe. I am and always will.”

After what felt like minutes of Matt soothing you, rather than leaving you by yourself he talks to Nick and Chris over his shoulder. You tried not to listen too closely. You only focused on the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat in his chest.

He let go of his warm hug and you couldn’t help whimpering. “Babe…”

“I’m sorry, I just gotta do this one part. I’ll be over right after, promise.” He kissed your temple and gestured to the couch. 

Reluctantly, you slipped into the background on the couch. It felt like they were talking about the new drink and whatever else for hours. Matt was constantly checking in on you, and it would be obvious to the fans that something was off. Hopefully Nick could magically edit out a majority of the off screen glances. 

The slight breakdown and lull of scrolling through your phone made your eyelids heavy. You managed to pull the closest blanket over you to curl up in. A little while after closing your eyes, you felt arms pick you up and then both of you lowered onto the couch again. 

“What?” you groaned, a light yawn escaping. “What’s going on?”

Matt giggled. “You fell asleep, babe.”

“Oh…” 

Your head fell on his shoulder as Matt’s arms wrapped around your body acting like a shield. Matt kissed the top of your forehead then he rested his head on top of yours. Your eyes immediately tug close again, it was hard to fight off the prickling sleep. 

“You guys are disgustingly cute,” Nick commented. 

Chris aimed the camera at the two of you. “Goodnight campers!”

“Ew.” Nick scrunched his nose. “No, that was reserved for the podcast only. Don’t do that.”

“Well, now that’s over, we should start using it in the vlogs,” Chris bartered. 

Nick shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“What? Why not? Come on! They love it!”

Matt flipped them off. “Ssh! End the vlog over there. Please?”

Chris jutted out his bottom lip. “Aww, Nick, he said pwease.”

Nick rolled his eyes, but then babied, “Aren’t you such a good boyfriend, Matty? Cuddling with (y/n) and defending her from us.” He reached over to ruffle his hair. 

Matt swatted his hand away with one hand, attempting to not disturb you. “Yeah? This is why I’m the only one not single.” 

“Oh, I’m single by choice,” Nick threw back quickly. 

“Me too,” Chris agreed. 

Matt rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.” 

You couldn’t help the smile that spread on your lips and you snuggled more into Matt, fueling more of the fire between them. 

[gavisuntiedboot]

Centimeters

Gavi x physiotherapist! Reader

A/N: no one asked for this but lord have mercy the photos from today had me heavy breathing

“Gavi, remember to behave yourself.”

“But I haven’t even-“

Ansu put a finger to his lips, eradicating whatever the end of that sentence was going to be.

“We’re about to go in for medical exams and the doctor is your girlfriend. Now I know you’re still pumped full of all your raging teenage hormones-“

“Ansu!”

“-but please, hermano. There cameras literally everywhere. So I’m begging you: behave.”

Gavi crossed his arms over his bare chest, pouting slightly at being scolded in front of the other boys. It was no secret that he was madly in love with his physiotherapist/girlfriend, but it never deterred the boys from teasing him incessantly. His injury over the last year had made things tough. She was at training more than he was, coming home with stories about practice drills and player banter that made his chest pang. He shook the thoughts from his head as he was called in to have his measurements taken.

Gavi shuffled into the room, white socks gliding against the floor. He fiddled with the bandage on his arm from the blood draw. He wished for a second that he could be childish, pull he is girl away from all her responsibilities and have a hand to hold while someone stabbed him with a needle. But he knew that now, close to graduating from her program and becoming lead physio, his girl was running the entire operation. So he was happy to just stand there, wide eyed and slack jawed watching his perfect girlfriend concentrate on something flashed across a computer screen.

Eventually, she felt a searing gaze burn holes into the dip of her back, and turned around to see her shirtless boyfriend biting his lip and smiling like an idiot. She suppressed her own grin, grabbing his file and her clipboard.

“Mr. Gavira - ready to be examined?”

There was a playfulness in her voice that, when mixed with her raised eyebrow and overwhelming stare, made Pablo blush.

“Of course, doctora. And please, take your time. Absolutely no need to rush.”

There was a light giggle bouncing around the room before she sat Pablo down, blood pressure cuff tight on his arm. Her fingers grazed his bicep, lingering longer than would be appropriate for any other player.

“Those scrubs look great on you, doctora.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t pick them out for me this morning, Pablo. Uncross your feet so that I can get a proper reading of your blood pressure.”

He spread his legs in the chair, shorts riding up his muscular thighs. He sat back in the chair, getting lost in watching his favorite person in the world fiddle with a blood pressure cuff.

“Any other players give you complements on the scrubs?”

“No Pablo - there is no one on this team suicidal enough to flirt with me or pay me a compliment while you’re here. Poor Lamine was scared to take off his shirt. He kept looking around expecting you to walk in.”

You tapped him on the arm, instructing him to stand for his height and weight measurement. He stood on the mark, and as she adjusted the piece above his head, he couldn’t help himself from wrapping an arm around her waist. He pulled her into himself, planting a quick kiss to her temple before she should pull away.

“Gavi!”

“What?”

“We’re at work!”

“Come on - no one is going to scold me. I’m poor Gavi with the bad knee.” He finished his sentence with a pout, big puppy dog eyes making him look younger than his already mere 19 years.

“Yes yes, poor little Gavi and his busted knee. I, however, am not an asset to club or country. Hansi will scold me in three languages if we get caught making out in here.

“Wait,” he turned his head swiftly, arms back around her waist. “Making out is an option?? Why didn’t you tell me.” His laughter disguised the sound of her lightly smacking his chest. She grabbed her clipboard again, and placed the metal piece gently on his head.

“173 cm. Tsk tsk Pablo - still as small as last year.”

He smiled at his girl, amusement painting his every feature.

“I don’t remember size ever being an issue for you, doctora. I’m still taller than you.”

“By like 10 cm. That’s not a lot.”

She took down his weight, and then grabbed the tape measure to start assessing specific areas of his body.

“Of course you would say 10 cm is not a lot. Since you’re used to 15 cm daily.” He earned another smack to the chest.

“Pablo!”

“Or maybe it’s 20? Maybe we should find out since you already have the measuring tape ready.” He suggested while his fingers played with the waistband of his shorts. She grabbed his wrist in fear, terrified of what Gavi was willing to do in a close room.

He laughed loudly, bringing both hands to cup his girl’s face. He felt the warmth of her cheeks on his palms, and her flustered state gave him a squeezing feeling in his chest. He brought his forehead to hers, waiting until she met his eyes.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to whip it out here in the medical room. No matter how much you may want it.”

She laughed gladly, fears subsiding and chest feeling lighter after Gavi’s light touch. She grabbed the measuring tape and began. She started with his neck, saying her measurements out loud before jotting them down on the form.

“Chest is 94 cm. Bigger than last year.”

Her fingers traced downwards, leaving heat on Gavi’s skin as they got to his hips.

“Hips are 81.5. Same as last year.”

Next, she traced across his collar bone and down his arm, tapping to silently tell him to flex his bicep.

“Biceps are- holy.”

“That’s not a number, preciosa.”

“Biceps are 43 cm. Ehem, bigger than last year. By a lot.”

The doctor tried to stabilize her slight tremble as she wrote down the measurements. She tried to calm herself, but something about Gavi’s new, fuller physique was making professionalism almost impossible. Gavi, the little shit, flexed his biceps again, pleased with the reaction he could evoke.

“Lift up your shorts, Gavi.”

“Don’t you mean pull down?”

“Are you okay, Pablo? You’re hornier than usual today. Do I need to get a spray bottle?”

“Surgeon called me today and cleared me for more vigorous activities. Want to help me follow the doctor’s orders?”

She got on her knees, wrapping the tape measure around his thigh.

“Thighs are 61 cm. Smaller than last year. You’ll need to work on that.”

“I had my ACL repaired.”

“Pshh excuses excuses.”

She finished her measurements, taking other important vitals and making sure to ask him all the medical clearance questions.

“What time are you finished today, Pablo?”

“2 pm. They don’t want us out for too long in the heat. How many guys are left?”

“About 6. I’ll probably be done before you, so I can go home and make lunch.”

He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into him.

“No no, wait for me. We’ll leave together and go get food. You’ve had a hard day, let me treat you.”

“Every day is a hard day at work.”

He kept one arm around your shoulders as you walked him to the door.

“Then I’ll treat you every day. See you later, princesa.”

He hugged you into his side, and scampered off to the practice field. Neither Gavi nor his lady noticed the social media intern in the hall, who was quick to snap a picture of your embrace. The image of Gavi hugging his physiotherapist into his side and smiling from ear to ear set the internet into a flurry of comments.

New post from fcbarcelona: strong bonds between our players and medical staff 🫶

~~~

Hey do you think this is a cute dynamic? Wish you could read more about gavi x physiotherapist? Well you’re in luck! I have a ten part series of their love story in my master list!

Guys I love him so much. Anyways, like, comment, reblog, and check out the fundraiser in my pinned!! Love yall <3

[mammonsrockstargf]

HIDE AWAY

contents: mammon x gn! reader, fluff/crack?, gets suggestive towards the end, lucifer appearance (boooo), mammon is taller than reader, dumb shenanigans!! you have been warned, teasing, kissing, not proofread wordcount: 1k alba's note: happy birthday to my favourite man <3

“Who’s a good boy?”

“Wha-” Mammon immediately stops in his tracks, his eyebrows narrowing and the tops of his ears turning red.

“Why are ya talkin’ to me like I’m a dog or somethin’?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from you. You can spot a blush growing from his neck, and the sight makes you cackle. 

“You’re my good boy,” you repeat, reaching out to scratch Mammon behind his ear, but he quickly swats your hand away, sending you a look of disbelief. “I’m not a dog!” he exclaims, avoiding your various attempts to ruffle his hair, knowing that if you get his hands on him, he might turn into a puddle of goo. “Stop that!”

You show no effort to stop, continuing to coo at him as though he’s a golden retriever you’ve just spotted on the sidewalk. 

“Hey, I am The Great Mammon! Do not cross me, human!” he continues. At this point, he’s red all over, hastily walking away from you. Your laughter only grows in volume as you continue to mess with him while you follow him. 

“You know what?” Mammon says, abruptly stopping, causing you to collide with his back. “Hmmpf! Hey, why did you—” Mammon turns around, and you go silent as you catch the look in his eyes. Annoyed, amused, and a little bit insane is the vibe you get as his pout morphs into a grin. 

“I’m a demon. I’ll eat you,” he says, teasingly flashing his fangs. You gasp. 

“You wouldn’t!” 

“I will!”

You decide to make a run for it, quickly moving down the hall towards your room. If you can make it in there and grab a weapon (a pillow) in time, then you might make it. Mammon is behind you, cackling evilly. You go around the corner, and you were so so close to salvation, if it wasn’t for the wall you ran into. 

“Auch!” you exclaim, rubbing your forehead. Your heart stops as you realise that the wall is wearing a suit. You look up to find red eyes already glaring at you. Mammon stifles a laugh behind you, pulling at your shirt to get you to walk a few steps back and create some distance between you and his older brother. 

“What are the two of you doing?” Lucifer asks, clearly tired of your shenanigans as you attempt to put on your most charming smile. 

“Hello, Luci. Did you have a good day?” you ask, wincing slightly when Mammon squeezes your hand in warning. You look back at him to find him shaking his head while motioning to stop with his hands. Lucifer sighs. 

“I seem to remember the two of you were on kitchen duty tonight. Perhaps you forgot?” He says, and you open your mouth to speak before closing it again. You completely forgot. 

“Hey, listen, I can explain,” Mammon begins, but he quickly shuts up when Lucifer glares at him. He begins his lecture, by telling you both how you’re irresponsible, and you do your best to pretend you’re listening as Mammon leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“On now, we run,”

“What?”

“Now!”

“Mammoon!”

You’re pulled down the hallway, down the flight of stairs into the living room. You gasp for air, barely being able to keep up with Mammon’s long legs, before you’re shown down another hallway and pushed into a closet. Mammon follows, closing the door behind him. It’s so tiny that you’re pressed against each other, and you can hear his heartbeat as you try to catch your breath. 

“He’s gonna hang you up on the ceiling,” you whisper after a moment of silence and Mammon huffs.

“Not if he doesn't find me.”

“He will find you.” 

You stand for another while and you shift, trying to find better space, but it only leads to you being closer to Mammon. 

“Aw, you stepped on my toe!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, and Mammon groans. Your hands find Mammon’s chest, snaking up to wrap around his neck as you pull him down to you. 

“Let me make it up to you,” you say, pulling him in for a kiss. He immediately reciprocates, his hands finding your hips as you’re pressed against the closet wall behind you. Mammon’s lips are soft, and his hands are warm as they travel around your body. You pull at his hair slightly, nails running along his scalp in the way you know he likes, and he rewards you with a breathy groan, almost a whine, as he leans closer in, till you’re completely trapped between him and the wall. His hands move a bit too low, squeezing your ass, and you gasp.

Mammon doesn’t waste the opportunity, slipping his tongue into your mouth, and you let him before you pull away for air. The closet feels awfully stuffy and hot all of a sudden as he moves down your jaw, placing kisses along your neck.

“Mams,” you sigh, patting his shoulder. “We can’t fuck in a closet.” 

Mammon whines at this, coming up to place one chaste kiss on your lips. 

“Why not?” he asks, as his hands begin travelling low again before you grab them and intertwine your fingers. “Could be kind of hot.” 

You scoff at this, though Mammon seems completely earnest, his blue eyes practically lighting up the small space as he presses another kiss to your lips. “No, one of us would definitely fall, or Lucifer would find us,”—Mammon grimaces at the thought—“or we would break something.”

You could list more predictions, but Mammon seems to get the picture as he rolls his eyes and pulls away slightly. 

“Yeah, okay, I get it,” he says. You lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“I’ll tell you what,” you whisper in his ear, and Mammon hums, arms automatically wrapping around you in a hug again. “If we make it to your room, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” you murmur, and you can’t help but laugh when Mammon’s grip on you tightens as his breath slightly hitches. 

“Yeah, definitely, you’re on, treasure.” 

…

You watch Lucifer string Mammon to the ceiling, attempting to hide your smile as Mammon grumbles. His older brother shakes his head, not even bothering to say anything as he walks away towards his office. 

You kiss Mammon’s nose as he huffs and puffs in disappointment. 

“Biggest cockblock ever,” he mumbles, glaring towards Lucifer that’s disappearing down the hall. You stifle a giggle and kiss his cheek. 

“The night isn’t over yet.”

thank you for reading!

masterlist | divider by cafekitsune

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi hello good day! May I order an extra spicy mille-feuille with a side of mocha coffee for John Price please?

bakery menu

want to order your own dessert? the bakery is still open! always accepting prompts especially from call of duty and formula one! get kinky! get sexy! order up!

mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by capt. john price!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, rough sex, wife!reader, husband!price, age gap (20s/40s), doggy style

price had a pretty wife! price had a pretty wife! johnny said in a sing-song voice when price returned to base after a "sabbatical", the other men knew what was up the moment he took off his gloves and there was a shiny gold band on his left ring finger.

captain jonathan price of task force 141 had bagged himself a missus!

while johnny's comments were juvinile, it was all in good fun. price never talked about you a lot on base. off base, the boys of 141 had met you and eaten your cooking. but, price kept you close to his chest.

he didn't want anything to happen to you.

when johnny gave him a shove of congratulations, price narrowed his eyes at the younger man, "i am still your captain. don't forget that mactavish."

"of course sir!" johnny laughed as he scratched his jaw, "just 'appy for ya!"

"so what's the plan now?" kyle asked as he gave his captain a firm handshake. in all fairness all three men were curious. you had the house, the ring, what was next for the price's?

price leaned back a little in his chair and shrugged, "well, we're tryin' for a kid when i get back. she's worried by the time i finally retire all her eggs will have dried up!" then gave a hearty laugh, "feels good bein' married to my wife. she a good woman!"

-

price was anxious to go home the second he left home for the next mission for the task force. so the day he got to return to his wife, he was all smiles as he took his belongings back home.

his cock was also painfully hard. he hadn't had the chance to relieve himself in a few days, so his cock was aching for a release. and no better place to put it than in his pretty wife.

he pulled up to the house that you two had been living in before you got married. he got his belongings and headed to the front door. when he knocked on the door, he heard the yapping of your dog.

"pumpkin! stop! down!" he heard your voice and smiled. when the door finally opened, he was instantly met with your arms around him. he held you as best as he could.

"hello, love." he smiled.

you kissed him off the lips and took his boonie hat off. you put it on your head before you giggled and took his hand. you brought him inside and price got a full view of what you were wearing.

the tank top was too tight and the sleeping shorts were too short. he made a face and said, "you've been wearin' that while i'm gone?"

you looked at him and said, "yeah? and the ring too!" then burst into laughter, "i'm joking, honey. i put this on for you. i was excited to see my husband."

price knew from the moment he met you, that he could never say no to you. he just loved you so much, it was almost an ache when he was apart from you.

he knew very well that you were leading him upstairs to the bedroom. he gave pumpkin, your german shepherd a pet and a promise they'll watch coronation street when he was done with her "mama."

price waved to the dog who was sitting there confused what her mama and papa were doing. he closed the door and you were on the bed, the tank top and shorts were off. leaving you in a cute mismatched pair of bra and panties.

you looked so adorable. it made price's cock twitch in his pants. such a pretty little wife. a wife he wanted to dick down and breed until you were nice and round with his children.

oh, he hoped you weren't stopping at one price baby. he was thinking at least three, maybe five if he can stick a pair of twins into you. (irish twins would just have to do if that didn't work! price was a man of many plans!)

he got out of his clothes, his hairy body made you drool. along with the strength in his muscles. you swallowed when he invaded your space and took off your under garments. it was like opening a present.

"my beautiful wife." he said. he took you and got you on your elbows and knees, even getting your pillow to put under your head. he took in the sight of you, back arched for him. ready to accept all he'll give you. he rubbed your ass “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

you whimpered against the pillow and felt your husband behind you. you held onto the covers under your head and sighed contently. your pussy was wet, he could clearly see that.

usually he had a cup of tea when he got home, but this was just as good. if not better. he knelt behind you and stroked his cock a few times at the sight of you.

his tip was leaky and his balls felt heavy. such a pretty sight, a submissive little wife (it was the only time you were actually submissive. price knew he married a firecracker!). he rubbed the slick tip up against your slit.

"pretty girl." he purred, then slowly sank into your sweet pussy. his hands on your hips as he pushed in. he heard a sweet moan and watched your back arch more.

"john. please." you panted as you held onto the covers.

"i got ya, love. always got ya." he started his pace, his thrusts were hard but steady. sex was rough, but it made it all feel so good in your bones. it felt like two parts of the same whole.

you were perfect for one another, even when he was breeding your sweet little pussy. he thrust against you, watching your ass jiggle at the force of his movements.

he felt the sweat dip down his back as he moved against you, his heart raced as he felt snug in his wife's pussy. you were just perfect, the most amazing little thing he had ever laid his eyes on. a gift from the heavens for him.

his sweet woman.

"john. please, i love you so much. i can't wait to start a family with you. you're perfect, i love you. you've made me the happiest i could be!" you whined into the pillow. you held onto it under your head.

"i love when you say my name, love. sounds so right on your tongue." he laughed as if he didn't have the most common name in the world. but the way it rolled off your tongue while he was balls deep inside of you made him feel good.

you whined in between your giggle as his soft words. even if his thrusts were hard. he melted you to your core and made you hot all over. it was erotic and it made you sweat.

the two of you continued to move together, his calloused fingers dug into the meat of your hips, enough to leave bruises.

"such a pretty girl."

the sex became harder, like a carnal need for the two of you to reach climax. for him to breed you, he pressed his chest against your back and wrapped both of those strong arms around your middle.

you whined and he panted heavily in your ear. he ached all over for you. his cock bullied into you and his breath was ragged.

"john."

"my girl. my wife." he purred and it sent you over the edge. like fire in your veins.

you clutched onto the bed under you, your back arched and you climaxed. you felt it take the air out of your lungs as he continued to batter your pussy. all in the name of growing your family.

your core throb as his continued movements. you panted heavily and let him get close to his own orgasm. his forearms clenched around you as he

he finished inside of you, and dropped his arms from around you waist. he slowed down and then pulled out. he took you into his arms and kissed at your sweaty neck.

"mmm, my good wife." he said with love in his voice. his cock was still painfully hard. one round wasn't going to make sure his little missus got knocked up! he rubbed his slick cock against your back and said, "perfect for me. we're gonna make a big family, love."

you smiled while still panting and held onto him tightly. you could feel your husband's love as he spooned you. he kissed your neck tenderly and you said, "get me some water and we can go again."

-

you rubbed your achy middle when you felt your son shift against your kidneys. you then poked your belly, "you calm down there." currently he was known as john jr. but you were convincing your amazing, lovely, handsome husband that there were more names than just john.

for now, he was known as peanut. you checked the noodles for the pasta dinner while price was chopping up the mushrooms for the sauce. his sleeves were rolled and those strong arms were on display.

you made a face,

you looked at pumpkin who was seated by your feet, waiting for her chance to have just one noodle. you chuckled and looked at price while you bent down a little to feed the german shepherd one of the penne noodles before you went back to the noodles

"i saw that." price said with a chuckle even if he back was turned to you. he was smiling however. he wouldn't expect anything different from you. when he finished with the mushrooms, he slung a bulky arm around your middle and kissed your cheek.

you turned your head to look at him and giggled, "i love you."

he kissed you on the lips then said, "i love you more. now and forever."

[lilacstro]

i have met a few amazing professional astrologers until now, here's what I have seen and learnt (life tips edition)

hey, its been a while since I posted anything :) a lil diff from my prev posts, this post is an observation series from the astrologers I have met. All of them, were absolutely wonderful and powerful having years of practice, some of them even having connections to influential people. My family had several connections to them because of my mother and grandmother, and basically where I am from. I am telling most generic things I have learnt while talking to them so anyone can use them as they please :)

1.If you want to succeed with education, learning, passing some important exam and things like that, strengthen your mercury. One of the simple things you can do is, feed green to birds and animals or water plants. Could even be learning a new language

2. Always keep your hands, and heels moisturized. It helps for a good venus.

3. If you are someone who likes wearing black all the time, I would suggest adding some light coloured clothes to your wardrobe. If you absolutely cannot, add colours like brown, dark maroon etc.

4.Reminds me, avoid wearing black on special days, like your birthday.

5. If you can wear silver ornaments, please do. Wearing silver ring (check what is the right placement) or earrings, helps strengthen the moon, and helps regulate mind, and brings good luck.

6. If you want a stronger Jupiter, wear gold. If its possible, avoid meat on Thursdays.

7. Helping poor people, or helping anyone in general, especially women, strengthens Saturn. If possible, consider doing this every Saturday, can even be as small as feeding the stray dogs.

8.Reminds me, disrespecting women, is one of the worst things you can do. Not only it is morally wrong, it weakens to your Saturn to a degree where you will start to loose all your material wealth. SEEN THIS 11/10 TIMES FR.

9. Cut your nails, and put them in the soil. Maybe have a separate pot with soil and put it in there. My mother met an astrologer yesterday and this is what he said "Your nails carry energy. When you cut them off, they look for their way back to the source. When you put a dead person under the grave, the first thing that happens is the growth of nails. Disposing them in the wrong places can have very bad effects, like a bad health or luck"

10. IF its possible, try cutting your nails, every friday.

11.Avoid eating at places of strangers or people you arent much aware about. Food made at any body's home has energy, and if you dont know about the person, its generally a bad idea to do that.

12. I dont know how many people know this but your name carries energy. Thats why sometimes, its suggested to change a few alphabets in your name. The way your birth numbers and name numbers synchronize is supposed to have some effect on your life. I learnt this when I met a very amazing astrologer, when he was using my name to find numbers. He showed me how exactly this works

13. Having a strong sun can lead to a good career growth. One of the ways to do so, is wake up before the sunrise, bath before the sunrise. Avoid eating at sunsets , always keeping your home well lit at sunsets.

14. Excessive use of substances is often related to a bad NN. NN is one of the things that defines your purpose, material wealth, unexpected changes that come (good or bad) and your decision making skills. Having a bad NN is often considered to make you act stupid, reckless, lose your money or status amongst others. Want a bad or weak North Node? please keep your home dirty, especially your kitchen and bathroom /use your footwears all inside your home and never keep your plates back into the kitchen after meals and leave them at the table unattended :)

15.Not keeping a good personal hygiene is again a bad Venus. Also, use of perfumes or fragrances can help somewhat with strengthening your Venus.

There is more but that's all i remember for now. Remember all of this is from a personal point of view and if you feel any of this conflicts with your morals, ethics or religion, please be free to ignore it, although I tried to keep this cut and clean as much as possible. This is from my experience and what I have seen and learnt. Astrology does affect your life but to a limit, although, I have seen a lot of this, I still believe a lot of your life is free will. Have good morals, do good, receive good. None of this works if you're downright evil lol.

support me on ko-fi :)

all the best, leave post suggestions or feedbacks as you like :).

i love you all

[charliemwrites]

it is my borfday. I am now 20 whole years. So I ask: 1fur1 reaction to readers borfday? I have 1fur1 thoughts but they aren't ready yet... They're still cooking

Happy Borfday!!!!! Two decades 🎉🎉

Okay just for you, bean - I’ll make it a full part too, even. This is very fluffy up until the end when it gets just a hint of spice.

(No human boys in this one, sorry!)

You haven’t said a word about it all week - and why would you? You live alone with three dogs. It’s not like they care that it’s your birthday; or even understand what time is, really. (Except for dinner time of course.)

But the day of your birthday dawns, a little rainy. You let yourself sleep in a bit, mumbling five more minutes three times in a row when Ghost nudges impatiently at your cheek.

Eventually you do get up though, giving each of your boys a crooning “good morning” and laying kisses on their precious heads. You stumble to the kitchen to start your coffee, even pull out the fancy beans you reserve for special occasions. While it’s brewing, you start gearing up the boys for their morning potty. The precipitation is mostly mist right now, but you’d rather them not smell like wet dog.

You’re trying to belt a wiggly, impatient Johnny in when your phone rings. Huffing, you tap at the speaker icon and try to wrestle the stupid hood over his big-ass ears.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” your mom trills through the phone.

At the noise, Johnny thankfully goes still. You finish securing his raincoat and turn to Konig. Thankfully, he’s much more cooperative about getting dressed - even if he takes every opportunity to lick your face.

“Uh, thanks,” you answer. Honestly, you were hoping she’d forget.

“What are you doing today to celebrate? Going out with friends? Maybe a date…?”

You roll your eyes as you finish adjusting Konig’s (custom) raincoat.

“Definitely not. I was just gonna stay in, order some food, drink some wine…”

You haven’t even finished before your mother is protesting.

“No, no, no, you need to do something special! Not every day is your birthday.”

And thank fuck for that, you think, shaking your head.

“It’s not that big a deal,” you insist. The boys crowd as you lead the way to the back door and prop it open. They seem oddly reluctant to leave your side. You assume it’s the rain and shoo them off, your mother still on speaker.

“Well if you won’t do anything, I will.”

“Ma, you really don’t need to—“

“Dinner will be at 6:30. Don’t be late!”

And she hangs up. You groan, run a hand down your face. Well. At least it’s only dinner. You can still do the rest of your plans.

“Boys!” you call, noting that they’re mostly just congregating at the edge of the yard. They instantly return to your side, even Johnny - who has a tendency to make you chase him in the rain.

They each file inside, sit and behave while you remove their raincoats and hang them to dry. As usual, they follow and crowd while you make up your coffee. Add a bit of whiskey just for fun; you won’t need to drive for a while.

The boys climb onto the couch with you, happily arranging themselves in a warm circle. Konig at your back like a living pillow. Johnny on your right, head in your lap. Ghost just in front, pressed against your shins and warming your feet.

You settle in with a contented sigh and sip your coffee. Even put on a show you’ve been meaning to get to.

Midway through the episode, Ghost slips off the couch and slinks off. You notice in the back of your mind, but he tends to be the moodiest of your boys and figure he just wants some alone time.

When he comes back, you hum at him, kissing his muzzle as he takes your other side. As the next episode is loading, Johnny hops down.

“Biiiiig stretch,” you coo, grinning as his back legs extend. He wags, licks your hand in parting, and trots off. You hear the doggy door clatter, figure he didn’t do all his business after all.

About an hour later, the doorbell chimes. You jump, but… the boys are oddly quiet. Usually they’d be rioting that someone dares come to the door. This time, though alert, not so much as a growl.

Put off, you pad to the door and check the peephole. Just a delivery man with a… frankly monstrous bouquet.

You open the door, prepared to tell him that he’s made a mistake. But he says your name and address and tells you happy birthday, gently handing it over.

You blink as he saunters back to the truck, almost don’t notice Ghost standing sentinel right beside you.

“Huh,” you muse, finding him watching you. “Who d’you think ordered me flowers?”

He makes a little “ruff” noise. You snort and close the door. It’s a beautiful arrangement, you must admit. All your favorites. It even came in a vase!

You inhale the sweet scent and sigh, unable to keep from smiling. Usually you think flower arrangements are a bit silly, so expensive for something that will last so little time. But it’s been ages since you last got one and someone clearly put thought into it.

You offer each of the pups a sniff, laughing when Konig sneezes a bit. You set the vase on the kitchen counter where it won’t become a casualty of any enthusiastic tails and you’ll get to look at it regularly. Try to look for a card but there isn’t one.

Hopefully, whoever sent it will reveal themselves by asking if you like it.

You settle on the couch again with a lingering smile, scratching at Ghost’s ears when he presses his face against your shoulder.

Another hour passes in peace when there’s another knock at the door. Again, the dogs stay eerily quiet. This time, you’re greeted with a huge bag of items.

You unpack it on the couch, Johnny sitting by your knee. A new plush blanket, a pretty mug, a video game you’ve heard good things about, the next book on your reading list, your favorite candies, and even an expensive new pair of headphones (since Johnny ruined your last ones).

You let him sniff curiously at each item, amused by his involvement in your gift unwrapping.

“Wow,” you breathe, staring at your pile of gifts. “This is more than I’ve gotten in years. I don’t even know what to do with it all.”

You start by eating some of the candies. Johnny’s tail wags furiously the entire time, even when you remind him that candy is Not For Him.

At some point in all the craziness, Konig’s scurried off somewhere. Not surprising, you figure. All the guests must have made him shy. He’s not a fan of really anyone but you.

Eventually he returns, though, and you’re sure to welcome him back with praises and kisses before he climbs into his spot. You happily return to your show, scratching absently at your snuggly pack.

Just around noon, there’s one last knock at the door. Your favorite takeout place, including a box of the really good German pastries that you never let yourself get more than once every other week. Fresh baked too!

You hum happily as you eat, wishing you knew who to thank for it.

“I feel utterly spoiled,” you laugh as you save the rest of the pastries for later. “I definitely don’t deserve all this.”

A deep bark nearly startles you. Konig. He hardly ever makes a peep!

“Listen to you, baby!” you coo, wiggling your fingers to entice him closer. He comes to your side instantly, chin on your stomach, staring up at you with big mismatched eyes. “Such a lovely voice. Ich liebe dich, Herr Konig.”

He wags happily at you, a big, silly canine grin on his face. When you duck down to hug him, he leaves kisses all over your face and neck.

By evening, you’re in a good enough mood that you’re not completely dreading the visit to your parents’ house. You get dressed, kiss each of your boys goodbye, and leave.

It’s not… bad per se. Sure, your mom makes your sister’s favorite meal, and your dad doesn’t even realize why you’re there at first. Your sister’s husband also keeps making weird comments about you being single and your biological “clock” but—

Well, you’re just there for dinner. At least your mom made homemade cookies; a classic you’ve always enjoyed. But not even that is enough to make you stay longer than absolutely necessary, making your excuses that Konig still gets separation anxiety.

The drive home is long and you feel exhausted from putting on the “grateful daughter” song and dance. When you pull up to the house, though, you perk up when you see another package.

It’s a… basket? You carry it inside, too dark to see what it is on the porch. Immediately greeted by the boys, you don’t get a chance to look at it at first. But once you do…

It’s a self care basket, you think. A ridiculously nice bottle of wine, a bath bomb, body cream, sugar scrub… a bottle of the lube you always use. New lingerie. A toy. Not just any toy either. One you’ve been putting off buying because it’s close to a hundred pounds and you’ve got three big boys to feed.

At first you think it’s your ex but…. No. No, everything in this basket is things you’d pick for yourself. Things he never knew you well enough to buy. And he’s too cheap besides - and too much of a stuck up dick to ever dream of patronizing adult toys.

You hesitate over it. But….. well, you’ve already brought it inside. Doesn’t matter if you use any of it or not; and it’s stupid to let it go to waste.

So you feed the dogs and wander to your room.

And it. Is. Decadent.

You linger in the bathtub for way too long, giggling at the sparkles in the water, sipping wine and nibbling on German pastries. Even sacrificed one of the roses from the bouquet to let the petals float in the water. Start the first couple chapters of your birthday book, sigh and talk nonsense to your boys, all of them lingering in the doorway but behaving.

And when you finally get to bed, you run the battery out achieving your “birthday orgasms”. (Remain shockingly uninterrupted by any of the boys.)

Sometime before midnight your dream of gentle hands cleaning you up, pressing kisses everywhere. Voices whispering “love you” and “happy birthday”.

It’s the best one to date.

(Again, happy borfday!! I love you and I hope this was a good gift 💕)

Main Story | Konig pt.2 | Price pt.1

Masterlist

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Bucky treating you like a princess when you’re on your period

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you’re on your period.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bucky being the best boyfriend ever, periods, crying, hugs and kisses, cuddling, pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

Bucky heard a whiny groan come from the bathroom. He knows that groan. That’s the noise you make when you get your period. He watched as you walked out of the bathroom and got back in bed with tears brimming your eyes. Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him.

“Is it your time of the month?” Bucky asks softly.

You nodded your head and sniffled. He pulled you onto his lap and rubbed your back with his vibranium hand.

“How about I go get us something to eat, ok?” He says.

“Yes please.” You say quietly, loud enough for him to hear.

Bucky kissed your lips softly and gently maneuvered you to lay on the bed. He covered you up with a blanket and kissed your forehead, making you giggle.

“Get some rest, doll. I’ll be home in a little bit.” He says softly.

You watched as Bucky grabbed his keys and wallet before drifting off to sleep. Your nap was short lived when you woke up to a bad cramp in your lower abdomen. You whimpered at the pain and slowly sat up. You went in the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet for aspirin, but couldn’t find any. You whined and went back to yours and Bucky’s bedroom. You seen one of Bucky’s shirts on the floor. You picked it up and changed out of the shirt you’re wearing and put on Bucky’s shirt. You smiled to yourself, smelling Bucky’s scent on it.

You walked out of the bedroom and went to the kitchen for some water. You made yourself comfortable on the couch and scrolled through Netflix. You found your favorite movie and played it. You fell asleep about halfway through it. Bucky came home around the same time. He put the grocery bags in the kitchen before going to the bedroom, thinking you were in there, but you weren’t. Bucky frowned and went to the living room, hearing soft snores coming from the couch. He smiled when he seen you. He paused your movie and sat down next to you on the couch. He noticed tears on your face and you mumbling something in your sleep.

“Doll, wake up. You’re dreaming.” Bucky says softly, gently shaking you.

You jumped and sat up, immediately throwing yourself in Bucky’s arms and started crying. He pulled you onto his lap and rubbed your back to soothe you.

“You’re ok, babydoll.” He coos. “Do you want to tell me what happened in your dream?” He says.

“You left me cause you didn’t love me anymore.” You tell him.

Bucky gently cupped your cheeks, getting you to look him in the eye.

“I want you to listen to me when I say this.” He starts. “I love you with all of my heart, babydoll. You’re the love of my life. I’m never going to leave you.” He says.

“Promise?” You asked with a pout.

“I promise.” He almost whispers.

Bucky kissed you with so much passion. He made you feel like you were the only girl in the world in that moment.

“I love you so much, doll.” He says.

“I love you more, Bucky.” You say with a smile.

Bucky played your movie while he held you on his lap. You weren’t really paying attention to the movie. You got distracted with Bucky’s dog tags.

“Do you want to see what I got at the store?” Bucky asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes please.” You say.

You got off of Bucky’s lap and stood up. Bucky took your hand in his, leading you to the kitchen. You watched as Bucky took everything out of the plastic bags, showing you what he bought. Your emotions got the best of you and you started tearing up.

“What’s wrong, my sweet doll?” Bucky asks with concern in his voice.

“I feel like a shitty girlfriend.” You say.

“No you’re not.” He says.

“Yes I am.” Tears rolled down your cheeks. “I didn’t realize you love me this much.” You say.

“I always confess my love to you. You know that.” He says, hugging you.

After a moment, Bucky wiped your tears away and you looked at what he bought with a smile on your face.

“You always treat me like a princess.” You say, looking up at him.

“That’s because you’re my princess.” He says, softly pecking your lips.

“I thought I was your doll.” You say with a playful pout.

“You are. You’re my princess doll.” He says, smiling down at you.

You giggled and stood on your tippy toes to kiss him.

“Can we cuddle and watch movies while we eat what you bought?” You asked.

“Of course we can, babydoll.” He says, kissing you once more.

You and Bucky got the snacks and went back to the living room to watch movies. When you’re on your period and when you’re not, Bucky always treats you like a princess.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[moonstruckme]

HII I LOVE YOUR WORK SM!! I literally can't stop reading them 😭 I love you so much for making all of them !!

May I ask if we could get more of shy Remus?? As soon as I read the first one I immediately fell in love !

Thank you so much!! 🫶🏽

Hi lovely, thank you! Sorry this took me so long, I've wanted to write it ever since it came into my inbox but it took me forever to come up with an idea </3

cw: very vague implication of smut

shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Remus looks surprised when he opens the door, and immediately after that embarrassed. For what, you never know. 

“Hi,” he says, lips curving into a smile as if of their own volition. “Um, I haven’t missed anything, have I?” 

You laugh. “No, you’re fine. I was just nearby and thought I might return your jumper.” 

It’s a half-truth. You’re ambushing him and you know it, but Remus’ reticent disposition means you know next to nothing about his life and after weeks of dating you’re really itching for a peek behind the curtain. You’ve brought chocolate muffins to make up for it. 

“Oh, that’s thoughtful of you.” Remus’ voice is soft as always, that adorable smile still playing on his lips until you both hear footsteps bounding down the stairs inside. He glances behind him, moving a bit more in front of the door. “While you’re here, maybe we could go have coffee or—” 

“Who’s that?” 

The voice seems like a sound of much dread for Remus, if his expression is anything to go off of. He ignores it, speaking only to you. 

“Or there’s a park just down the way—”

“Remus.” It’s a different voice this time, yet the effect upon Remus’ countenance is the same. “Who do you have there?” 

“Hi!” you say over his head, mutinous. 

“A girl?” Remus’ entire body seems to sag in resignation. “Remus Lupin, stop hiding her from us immediately.” 

“Sod off.” He says over his shoulder, as brash as you’ve ever heard him. It’s a bit thrilling. 

“I will not. Reveal your secrets, you dirty dog.” 

You actually do feel quite bad for Remus, a blush spreading all the way up to the tips of his ears, but he lets go of the doorframe, letting himself be wrestled out of the way. 

“Hello.” A dark-haired boy weasels his way into Remus’ place, giving you a salacious up-down. You raise your eyebrows at him, delighted. So this is who Remus associates with when he’s not with you. “My, you’re a pretty thing. And you’re here to see Remus?” 

“I am,” you confirm. “I’m here to bring back his jumper.” 

“Which would lead one to believe, “a second boy appears behind the first, both of them keeping Remus from reclaiming his spot at the door, “that you’ve seen him before.” 

You laugh. “I have. We’ve been dating a few weeks now.” 

“Remus!” The second bellows, eyes blowing comically wide behind his glasses. “Weeks? Weeks, and you haven’t said a word. How could you?” 

“I don’t suppose you have a bit of time on your hands,” the first boy says smoothly. 

“I’ve…” You check the time. “I do, actually.” 

He grins, wolflike. You’re not sure who the prey is. You worry it’s your date. 

“Yes!” The one with the glasses is effervescent, brimming with eagerness. It’s contagious, you find; you’re smiling too. “You have to come in, please.” 

You’re dying to, but you peer past them, locking eyes with Remus. He looks to be wishing for a swift and painless death, but he gives you a soft smile anyways. Nods. 

“Sure,” you say, “I could join you for a bit.” 

Some of the boisterous energy settles as they usher you inside, the need for urgency vanquished now that they’ve got you in their clutches. Begrudgingly, Remus introduces you, and the other two hassle him about taking off your coat and showing you where to put your shoes before he gets a chance to do either. Soon you’re settled comfortably in the armchair they tell you is Remus’ favorite. 

“Can I make you a cuppa?” Remus asks, and James and Sirius both oooh as he rolls his eyes. You nod at him, eyeing the other two amusedly. 

“He must really like you,” James says, “if he’s offering to make you tea.” 

“Hence why you’re not getting any,” Remus says over his shoulder as he stalks for the kitchen. 

“Prick,” Sirius calls after him. “We didn’t want any anyways.” But he crosses his arms, sulking back against the couch cushions. James, on the other hand, leans towards you. 

“So,” he says severely, “what are your intentions with our Remus?” 

A quiet sound of distress comes from the kitchen, but you all ignore it. “Your Remus?” you ask. 

James nods self-assuredly. “We’ve known him since primary school. If you two get married, I’ll be the one giving him away.” 

You raise your eyebrows. Remus’ head pops out of the kitchen, glaring daggers in a way you didn’t know he knew how. “You will not.” 

“What?” James looks gutted. 

“That’s not the point.” Sirius waves both of his friends off, though James looks like he would very much like to continue on the topic. “Tell us about you two, gorgeous. Where did you meet, how long have you been dating, has Remus told you where he hides his chocolates?” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Remus says, coming back with your tea. He passes it to you carefully, handle out, and both you and James hiss at him for holding the hot part. 

“We haven’t even gotten her to answer anything yet,” Sirius complains. 

“It’s not her fault you haven’t given her the chance.” Remus perches on the armrest of the chair. It's probably so he can avoid sitting next to his nosy friends, but pride swells in your chest anyway at being chosen. You take his hand, and he squeezes your fingers in response. 

Sirius coos. “Only a few weeks of dating and he’s already holding her hand. I’m so proud.” 

You grin up at Remus, knowing what you could say to really shock his friends but not wanting to embarrass him further. He’s already flustered enough that his scars stand out in stark contrast against his flushed skin, but his look softens as he meets your eyes. Something about him eases, a small smile curving his lips. 

You decide it’s permission enough. 

“You’ve been a bit bolder than that, haven’t you, handsome?” 

James and Sirius erupt in hoots and hollers. Remus looks like he might well fall off the edge of the chair for how stiff he’s gotten. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. It’s burning. “I’m not trying to torment you. We can go be alone in your room, if you like.” 

“No-o.” James waggles a finger at you. “Now that we know what you’re up to, you won’t be getting him alone in our house. You’re set on corrupting him!”

[mkkk12345]

Divus Crewel x Wife Reader How they met

Sorry this took so long to write, I was once again procrastinating lol Feel free to request situations (I write slowly and I’ll be pretty busy for the next while sadly, but please do request if you would like to! I'll do anyone in twst for the most part with your usual restrictions) (side note I got the names for the dogs from the 101 Dalmatians)

1.2K words

------

Oh how Crewel would come to regret what he had done that day, he really should have seen it coming. “Hey! Professor Crewel, tell us how you met your wife!”

This had all started when Crowley had approached him with a challenge. “If you manage to raise the class average of the first years to let's say~ 80 percent? I'll give you a raise! Am I not so incredibly generous? Hahahhahaaaa” He cawed to himself as Crewel walked away absolutely done with the crow mans shenanigans

Rolling his eyes he responds “I guess there is no harm in attempting it”

As an encouragement to study harder he had told his students that if they were able to raise the class average to 80 percent by the next semester he would allow them to ask one question about his personal life. Of course all of the students had jumped at the chance to glance into the oh so mysterious and strict teachers personal life.

And that is why we are here now.

Professor Divus Crewel, now being forced to tell the oh so embarrassing story of how he had met his lovely wife.

“Well it's not the worst question you lot could have asked. I would rather not share this story but if I must I will do so…”

—----

Divus was around 17 when he first met Y/N It was a bright and sunny day, the weather was perfect and it just so happened to be a long weekend, a rare opportunity to visit home in the Queendom of Roses.

It was also a perfect day to take his beloved pet dalmatian Perdita for a nice long walk in the nearby park for some long deserved bonding time.

When Crewel was home from NRC he would often take Perdita to the park. Whether it was actual exercise or for some relaxing time outside to sketch new fashion designs, Perdita never really minded. But today was different, the minute the pair stepped out of the door the spotted dog went bolting in the direction of the park. “Hey! Slow down girl, why on earth are you in such a rush today?!” he said, trying to keep all his sketching supplies from falling to the ground.

Luckily for young Divus, the dalmatian did eventually slow down once they reached the park. “You act as if no one has been bringing you to the park since I left for school.” he said exasperated from the impromptu run.

Soon after catching his breath Divus and his companion walked over to a nearby bench so the boy could start sketching, but right as he put his sketching equipment down there was another sudden tug on the lead and once again they were off “hey! Slow down! What has gotten into you toda-” CRASH he had been cut off suddenly, crashing into another person as Perdita and what seemed to be another dalmatian were running circles around the two very effectively tying the two together.

When he finally pried his eyes away from the dogs he finally realized the full situation he was in, tied up with a very beautiful young lady. “Oh my god I'm so sorry he doesn't usually act like this, Pongo would you stop that already?”

“Don't worry it was neither of our faults really, I guess these two have taken quite the interest in one another” he said as he pulled his arm out of the leashes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck a blush forming on his face as he looked at a very interesting tree behind her.

“They've actually been like this for weeks!” she laughed as she finally met his eyes, “Oh you must be Divus! Your mother talks about you very often.” He was surprised, not only was this girl absolutely stunning but she already knew him. Although he would never admit it, he practically fell in love with her right then and there, the way she beamed with joy, the slight blush on her cheeks, her laugh even in the strangest of situations.

In an attempt to calm himself he averted his gaze again and began to untie him and his new developing crush from the entanglement of leashes they were trapped in “Oh you must have met mother while she was walking Perdita I do hope she didn't tell you anything embarrassing” a strained smirk appeared on his face, knowing how his mother liked to tell the most embarrassing stories of his childhood.

“Well I cant say she didn't say anything” she laughed softly again drawing Divus’s attention for a moment the blush on his face growing ever brighter.

Snapping out of his short trance he asked “Might I ask for your name then since you already know mine?” With blush remaining on the tips of ears he held out his hand like a gentleman, both with the intention to give her, her dogs leash back but also to lead her over to a bench so they could hopefully continue their conversation.

“Oh my apologies how rude of me, My name is Y/N nice to finally meet you.” She bashfully took both the leash and his hand, walking over to the bench.

“The pleasure is mine”

—-

“And whilst that was all happening I looked over to our dogs, only to find them looking at each other with what seemed to be a grin on their faces like they planned that all out.” Crewel sighed as he recalled how proud those little devils looked. “After quite a long conversation that ended up in me never actually starting a new sketch, we traded contact information and left the park.” he looked up at his students now regretting all his life decisions.

“And that is how I met my wife, now it seems like class is over, please leave quickly so I can question why I ever became a teacher in the first place.”

“But prof how did you ask her out?” “Yeah yeah! Who was the first one to confess!” “How did you propose????”

Frustrated crewel quickly answered “If I recall correctly you were all only given the privilege of asking one question, now if you don't stop pestering me I will be giving you even more homework.” a completely very unnoticable blush began to form on his face.

“Sorry sir!” Everyone shouted in unison, but on their way out the students did not miss the slightest hint of red that dusted their professor's cheeks as he pretended to sort through papers.

Once everyone had left and silence had fallen through the classroom a laughter could be heard coming from the Professors phone. “Awwwww darling, you retell that story so fondly~” Crewel sighed as he finally looked over at his phone

“I honestly can not believe I let you talk me into letting you listen to that.” he said with a hand firmly planted on his face covering any sign of pink that appeared.

“Consider it as repaying me for when I dropped those papers off for you. Now hurry home our two rascals of dogs are looking at me like I should thank them for getting us together.” she laughed nervously

“Yes yes honey see you soon” ending the call with a small smirk as he muttered “I should buy some more dog treats on the way back.”

[reiderwriter]

Hii~ First of all I love your writing!

Now about the request... I really wanted one where Spencer is dating a painter who has the personality of a black cat (we all know that our Reid is a total golden retriever type) and everyone thinks that she is the dominant one of the couple since she has this more punk/alternative style, but the team couldn't be more wrong! A soft!Dom Spencer makes her obey and yield every time! ~thank u

A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I can definitely see myself making a part two for this if enough people are interested!! For now though, enjoy! ~✨

Warnings: mentions of public sex, BDSM roles, mentions of using dog collars in a sexual way, mentions of creampie.

Here's my masterlist and requests are open!~

“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting your mystery girl tonight, Reid. You’ve been so quiet about her, we’d have never even known if Penelope hadn’t hacked your phone on a hunch.” Emily laughed at the man from her perch at the bar, raising her glass in a cheers with her fellow agents. 

“I’m not too sure she really exists, you know. I know what my baby girl said but the kid graduated from MIT, and we know texts can be doctored,” Morgan teased from the other side of the younger man. 

In response, he simply rolled his eyes and let them continue their fun and games. He’d known the two agents for long enough to know that their teasing was loving, if not entirely warranted. He’d only kept you a secret because you’d asked him to, having wanted to make a good first impression on them. He’d have gladly shouted your name from the rooftops, but you were on the shy side sometimes. 

“Oh you’re just jealous. You want me to help you take a little honey home tonight, Derek?” Emily turned on the other man this time and Reid breathed a sigh of relief that the attention was finally off of him.

“I am perfectly capable of collecting all by myself, thank you very much.” He turned an amused eye out to the rest of the bar, surveying the women in the bar like a predator looking or it’s next victim. 

“What about that one? She good enough for the Derek Morgan?” Spencer glanced up at where she was pointing at the same time as the aforementioned male did and did his best to repress his smile. Emily had glanced to the door, where you stood, outfitted in a tight black dress, chunky thigh high boots and a stoic expression. You’d carefully washed all the paint that usually adorned your hair and face away, armouring yourself in red lipstick and dog collar choker, letting the look speak for itself. 

“Now that is a nice piece of work, but not exactly what I’m into, sweet cheeks. I prefer my ladies a little bit less wild. A little more compliant if you pick up what I’m putting down.” 

“Coward. Dominant women are more fun, right Reid?” Emily smiled back at the other man, but he was looking past the two of them waving to you. 

“Oh great, you’re here. Emily, Derek I want you to meet my girlfriend, Y/N.” He grabs your hand and leads you the rest of the way to where they were standing, the grin on his face widening exponentially as the two splutter, praying to god that you didn’t just hear the tail end of their conversation about you. 

“Hi, great to meet you. And yes, Emily, I agree. Dominant women do seem to have a lot of fun,” you winked at the woman a little bit and let your boyfriend excitedly drag you over to the bar to buy you a drink. 

Recovering first, Emily pulled herself back into the barstool she’d recently vacated, and started asking you questions. 

“So, how did you guys meet?” 

“At the library actually. I was there installing a mural, and I saw him and decided I had to have him.” You smiled fondly up at your boyfriend, as he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. You’d perched yourself between his legs, leaning your entire bodyweight back into his chest possessively, as he trailed a light hand over your waist. 

“You’re a painter? Wow, that’s so wonderful.” 

“Yeah, that’s the dream anyway. I also work part time at an art gallery downtown to help pay the bills. It’s where he tracked me down, so it worked out pretty well, I guess.” 

“Tracked you down?” Morgan asked. 

“Yeah, after our first… run in, I forgot to give him my number.” 

“Run in? You said you met at the library, what else did you do if you forgot to swap numbers?” Emily laughed, half-heartedly, then stopped as soon as she saw the smug grin on your face paired with the awkward panicked expression on Reid’s. 

“Shut up. No way, wait I don’t even want to hear this.” 

You smiled up at the man, knowing that the way his two coworkers were imagining that first meeting was probably the exact opposite of how it had gone. Sure, you’d told the truth about approaching him first, but that was the extent of your control of the situation. You’d gone over to ask for his number, find out his name and ask if he was single. You’d returned to work an hour later with sore knees, no panties and a load of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 

He hadn’t even allowed you to give him his number, just promised that he’d find you again, and vanished from the library bathroom stalls you’d christened in sin with a lingering kiss on your lips and a whisper of “good girl.” You’d fallen for him hard, and you never wanted to get back up. 

“Wow. And he was so desperate to find you again that he followed you to work. We taught you better than that, Reid, come on. You’re going to freak out the ladies if you come on that strong.” Morgan began teasing the man, ruffling his hair, and you bit your tongue to stop the laughter from exploding from your mouth. 

You knew from your appearances that people often came to the wrong conclusions about how you and Reid were as a couple. Your style was more alternative, though not as intense as you’d been in high school, and his was more preppy nerd, but you balanced each other out well. You knew that it irked him sometimes though. And whenever he was pissed, he took it out on you in the best way. 

After a few hours in the bar getting to know Morgan and Prentiss, and the two other lovely ladies who had arrived later, JJ and Penelope, Reid’s grip on your waist tightening made it clear that it was time for you to go home together. 

“I think we’re going to head out now, guys. I’ll see you in the office on monday.” He said and moved off, but you wanted to see how far you could push it tonight, wanting to see the lengths he would take to not show his teammates that they had vastly misunderstood your relationship. 

“But Spence, I just met them. I wanna talk some more,” you smirked up at him now, and saw his jaw clench. You were thankful you’d work the dog collar choker tonight, the thought of him grabbing it to yank you away making you squeeze your thighs together for some much needed friction. 

“We’re going now, baby. Come here.” You ignored the order for another second, and you could feel the heat in his gaze, and the curiosity in his friends as they watched this struggle between you. 

“Sweetie, did you hear me, I said we’re going now?” This time, you knew he wasn’t playing anymore, so with a quick “yes, sir,” you pushed yourself out of your seat and practically skipped over to him, a delighted grin on your face. He cupped you neck, wanting desperately to pull you in by the neck but choosing restraint instead, and brushed his lips to yours. Whenever he kissed you like that, it meant you’d caused trouble, and you knew you were going to spend the night paying for it. 

“Bye-bye, everyone, it was so nice to meet you,” you called as he led you out of the doors and into the carpark. 

“What the hell was that?” Penelope was the first one to crack, the others jaws still dropped to the floor. 

“Did she just call him sir?” JJ laughed in incredulity. 

“But-but I could’ve sworn they were…” Emily blubbered and the four of them sat there staring at the door, realising that they had underestimated their resident genius a little bit too much. 

[aquaquadrant]

from eden, part XI (act II)

Word count: 15,152 Warnings: Language, blood/injury, descriptive violence, fictional racism, mild gore, death, kissing, body horror, unreality  Summary: Tango is forced to finally confront his past at Hels Tek, this time with Jimmy and friends behind him. But he soon finds that there are some battles he must fight alone, the outcome of which will change his life- and the universe- forever.

A/N: Due to Tumblr’s paragraph limit, I had to split this into two acts again. Link to the first half here. Hope you enjoy, please reblog/comment if you do! - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part XI (act II) - honey, you’re familiar, like my mirror years ago

~*~

Bravo emerges from the portal, blinking.

It takes a second for his eyes to adjust from the dim basement to the brightly-lit garage. It looks just like he remembers it, save for a few scattered chests lying about. The floor-to-ceiling bay doors that lead out to the surrounding lava lake are closed at the moment, leaving the iron side door as the only access point.

The portal behind him now has that same red-yellow-green light as the old one, flickering as the other players begin to appear. Jimmy follows closely after, then Ren the dog man and Cleo the zombie take up their positions on either side of it, weapons at the ready.

“Well, what’s this, then?”

Clear’s alone, just like Grian reported before they came through. He’s crouched by one of the flying machines, a slimy rag tossed over his shoulder, black lab coat stained and rumpled as always. He doesn’t look particularly shocked to see them or the portal- mildly surprised, at best.

So far, so good.

Bravo takes a step forward, hoping to keep Clear’s attention on him as the rest of the others come through. “Hey, hey there, how’s it goin’?”

Clear straightens up and puts his hands on his hips, nonplussed. “Open House day already, is it? Could’a bloody reminded me, how am I meant ta’ keep track of all this rubbish…” He sighs, wiping his hands on the rag. “Right. Suppose you lot will be wantin’ the tour, then?”

“Uh, don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Bravo says quickly, holding his hands up. “You can just stay here, keep doin’ what you’re doin’... don’t let us interrupt you, I- I know your work’s important. But uh, mind if I borrow your ID? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

Clear blinks. “Oh, alright then. Sure.” He reaches into his inventory, fishing out a slip of paper. “Makes no difference t’me if-” He stops abruptly, his mouth falling open as he stares at something behind Bravo. “Scáil?”

Confused, Bravo follows his gaze- and his heart jolts. Grian’s just come through the portal, and Clear’s looking at him like he’s seen a ghost.

Grian seems similarly confused. “What?” he asks, startling under the sudden attention.

“Oh, Scáil!” Suddenly Clear is running to wrap Grian in a hug, sobbing. “God, I- I thought I’d never see you again-”

“Um?” Grian’s voice is strained, eyes wide as he goes rigid in Clear’s arms. “Hello?”

Jimmy and Scar rush forward to help, but Bravo holds out a hand to stop them. He knows Clear is harmless; there’s no reason he’d be trying to hurt Grian right now. But what is this about? Scáil… he feels like he’s heard that name somewhere before-

Oh, no.

“Really?” Bravo demands, exasperated. “Of- of all the Hels in this world, you chose his to fall in love with?”

Clear ignores him, of course, continuing to blubber. He’s fallen to his knees at this point, face buried in Grian’s sweater- which is quickly growing damp with tears. It’s kind of sad… in a gross, pathetic way.

“Come again?” Jimmy asks, eyebrows shooting up.

Bravo pinches the bridge of his nose. “Atlas mentioned once that Clear used to have a boyfriend named Scáil who up and vanished on him, and he’s had trouble tellin’ me and Tango apart before, so…” He shrugs. “Guess he had a thing with your doppelgänger.”

Surprise flashes across Grian’s face, followed quickly by sympathy as he exchanges a glance with Scar. “Um- look, buddy,” he starts, wincing, “I- I’m not… whoever you think I am, alright, I need to get goin’-”

“No!” Clear pleads, voice tinged with panic as he clings even tighter. “No, no, p- please Scáil, don’t go! Please, stay.”

Bravo can see Grian’s resolve falter. Hands that he’d raised to push Clear away instead come down to rest on his shoulders. “Ey,” he murmurs, wings curling around them, “it’s alright.”

Jeeze, he must be closer to that Mumbo guy than Bravo thought. “We don’t have time for this,” Bravo huffs. “Let’s just knock him out and get movin’.”

Jimmy hesitates. “Grian?”

Grian seems to make up his mind. “Just go, okay? I’ll stay with him.”

“You sure?” Scar asks worriedly.

Grian nods. “Yeah, I got Cleo and Ren to back me up if I need, okay.” He reaches an arm around to pluck Clear’s keycard out of his grasp, holding it out to Bravo. “Here.”

Bravo takes the keycard, mind racing. He would’ve liked Grian to stay with them- his ability to fly is a huge asset, especially when combo’d with Scar’s ace shooting, and not to mention his weird spectating ability. But if this is how he wants to handle his friend’s doppelgänger, then Bravo has to respect it.

And they certainly can’t waste any more time arguing about it.

“Alright, let’s go.” Bravo turns away, and is relieved when he hears footsteps behind him. Approaching the door, he slips Clear’s keycard into the dispenser, picking it back up as he steps through and holds the door open for the others.

Now that they’re inside the facility itself, the group is instantly alert, moving down the hallway as quickly yet quietly as they can.

Bravo leads the way, with the archers- Scar and Scott- at either side. Jimmy and Pearl follow closely behind, in case they need to fly ahead, and Martyn so he can lob a slowness potion if needed. Joel and Bdubs are next, with Etho between them, and Impulse bringing up the rear.

The hallway soon splits and veers off into multiple directions; a virtual maze of identical quartz walls to the uninitiated. But Bravo spent years learning these halls, and he hasn’t forgotten, despite his last couple weeks spent on the run. He swiftly takes them on the shortest path to the south wing, where the blaze farm is located.

As they creep through the halls, he tries to keep an ear out for anyone approaching, but it’s difficult to hear above the pounding of his heart. Being back in this place is more unnerving than he expected. After all, it was basically his home for five odd years, so he would’ve thought he’d be perfectly at ease here.

But maybe it’s a good thing that he isn’t.

“Wait,” Pearl breathes.

Bravo halts the group, looking over at Pearl. Her fuzzy antennae are twitching, her eyes wide, and she meets his gaze and mouths the word ‘one.’

Now that they’re standing still, he can just make out the faint echoes of footsteps down the hall, around the corner. They’re getting closer but they aren’t rushed; sounds like someone is just strolling. Likely one of the night guards on patrol. 

Scott’s on it right away, creeping forward a few steps to crouch and draw his bow. Bravo shifts over to gesture Martyn forward- which he does while pulling out a splash potion of slowness.

For a few, brief moments, they’re all frozen, waiting with bated breath.

Then the guard rounds the corner.

Scott fires almost immediately- an arrow appears in the guard’s leg. In the same heartbeat, Martyn launches the potion through the air. By the time it shatters at the guard’s feet, showering them in particles, Martyn’s closed the distance.

The guard opens their mouth to shout, raising an arm to block, but between the arrow and the potion, they’re too slow. Martyn slams the pommel of his sword against their head, and the guard crumples to the ground.

Bravo lets out a breath and advances the group forward. They come up on Martyn right as he’s securing the unconscious guard with chains.

“Good work,” Bravo murmurs before glancing at Pearl. “You got super hearing or somethin’?”

Pearl nods excitedly. “It’s these halls,” she whispers, “the way they echo- I didn’t expect it to amplify the vibrations so much, but…”

Bravo exchanges a look with Jimmy. “Well, that’s handy.”

He can see the same hesitant relief reflected in Jimmy’s eyes and recognizes what he’s feeling. Their plan for encountering guards worked like a charm, but they’ve still got a way to go, so they can’t get complacent. The night’s not over yet.

Bravo unlocks a random lab for them to shove the guard inside before pressing on.

They continue through the facility in tense silence. It’s eerie being here at night, the rooms behind the endless iron doors all dark and quiet. A far cry from the bustle of noise and activity Bravo recalls from his time here. There was always so much going on at Hels Tek, countless projects being tested and reworked, all manner of redstone farms and contraptions.

It makes him wonder why, exactly, Atlas was so dead set on recapturing Tango for the blaze farm. He had already been chasing the idea for years before Bravo arrived on the scene with his own motivations. Surely, at a certain point, it would’ve been more trouble than it was worth? Especially since he knows good and well that Atlas wasn’t after portals.

But then again, why does anyone in Hels do anything? They all seem to be insane in one way or another. Maybe that’s just how it’s manifested in Atlas; single-minded obsession, like a dog with a bone.

Soon enough, Pearl is signaling the group to stop again. Another guard incoming, but they’re prepared for this. Everyone takes up their positions, waiting for the guard to appear… and then-

Arrow, potion, knockout. The guard is groaning from the floor in the blink of an eye.

Bravo is just starting to feel reassured when something on the ground flashes; a dropped item disappearing. It looked like a slip of paper- an ID keycard, like the one they took from Clear, was in the guard’s hand when they were knocked out. And now it’s gone- but how? It’s been nowhere near long enough for it to despawn, and it landed too far away to be picked back up into the guard’s inventory. It almost seemed like it was sucked beneath the floor, like into a hopper… but why would there be hoppers here?

Frowning, Bravo steps forward to investigate, opening his mouth to warn the others. But before he can, a faint yet distinct sound reaches his ears; the clicking of an observer and the churning of pistons.

Then the ceiling opens up, and a ravager drops on their heads.

~*~

One second, Jimmy’s thinking maybe things are going to be alright, and the next, he’s looking up at the underbelly of a ravager.

Pure instinct kicks in. He grabs Bravo by the arm and takes off into the air. The ravager lands with a heavy thud right behind him, close enough for him to feel the wind through his feathers, and crushes Joel and Bdubs into a cloud of respawn smoke.

Immediately, it’s chaos.

Shouts of alarm mix with the ravager’s roars, echoing off the walls into a deafening din. Pearl’s followed Jimmy into the air, struggling to hold Scott steady enough to shoot amidst her slightly erratic hovering-

Martyn’s thrown against the wall as the ravager charges, head slamming against quartz with a resounding crack. He’s in the ravager’s jaws before he can recover, before he can even scream, respawning away to leave only bloodstains and scattered items-

Etho manages to put some cobblestone down. In a hall that’s only three-by-three, it’s just enough of a barrier to keep the ravager back; with the consequence of it now standing between him and the rest of them-

Beneath Jimmy, Scar’s backing up, firing arrow after arrow, but at this close of a distance and with his less powerful bow, it’s barely affecting the ravager. Walled off on one side, the ravager turns and lunges forward to close its jaws around Scar, killing him with its crushing bite-

Everything seems to slow down.

The ravager has now set its sights on Jimmy, and his wings can’t pump fast enough to escape it. He’s flying as close to the ceiling as he dares but he knows it won’t be enough, certainly not to keep Bravo out of its reach in such close quarters.

“Back up, back up!” Bravo’s shouting, fumbling for his sword, and the ravager lowers its head to charge-

Impulse appears in the air above it. He’s in full demon mode; with a powerful sweep of his leathery black wings, he launches himself onto the ravager’s back, sinking his claws deep into its flesh. The ravager bellows in pain and rage, thrashing to try and throw Impulse off, and his glowing golden eyes snap up to meet Jimmy’s gaze.

“Go!” Impulse snarls, his deep voice booming through the air.

Jimmy doesn’t need to be told twice. He takes off down the hall, Pearl right behind him.

It’s a frenzied flight, breathless and panicked, the ravager’s fading roars echoing in his ears. Wings and lungs burning, it’s only thanks to Bravo’s directions that he manages not to crash into a wall, twisting and turning through the maze-like halls. His mind is racing on an endless loop of ‘oh gosh, oh gosh, what now?’ as the reality of the situation starts to sink in.

The jig is up, that much is for certain. There’s no shot that Atlas doesn’t know they’re here. Jimmy would be less concerned if this was after they got Tango free; now, there’s a chance they’ll be stopped before they even reach him. Especially since it’s just the four of them. Pearl and Scott are both skilled fighters, to say nothing of Bravo, but there’s strength in numbers and no telling how many guards they might face.

(Well, that was exciting!) 

(Ooh, things are getting spicy.)

(Can’t see this ending well…)

It’s not long before Jimmy has to stop, dropping Bravo to his feet and stumbling to an ungraceful landing. He leans against the wall to catch his breath, his wings sagging with exhaustion. Pearl seems similarly winded, landing heavily beside him. For a few moments, no one speaks.

“Fuck,” Bravo says, which sums up the situation fairly well. He kicks the wall. “Fucking- fuck!”

Scott rolls his shoulder, but seems none the worse for wear. “I take it tha’ ravager is new, then?” he asks, quirking a brow.

“Yeah, no,” Bravo snarks, “I- I just completely forgot about their aerial ravager deployment system, yeah.”

“Oh man,” Pearl wheezes, doubled over. “I haven’t flown like that in ages…”

“Well, this’s bad,” Scott drawls. “What’s tha’ plan?”

“We press on,” Bravo says, his expression steely. “Now we’re on a time crunch. No doubt that little trap also sent off a warning to Atlas, so- so I expect we’ll be seein’ more guards any minute now.”

As much as Jimmy would like to rest longer, he knows Bravo’s right. “Okay,” he huffs, pushing off the wall. “Lead the way.”

They set off again on foot, moving quickly now that stealth is out of the question. Jimmy spares a moment to be thankful that Bravo is with them. These halls all look the same to him, but Bravo seems to know where he’s going, even after their chaotic flight.

Jimmy pulls his communicator out as they go. Glancing down at chat, he winces; Impulse and Etho were killed by the ravager as well, so they’re truly on their own here. Even though the others will have come back through the portal after respawning on Double Life, they won’t be able to find their way through this facility to meet up again.

In fact, Bravo had advised against it. Their contingency plan, in the event that anyone was killed, is to stay by the portal. Now that Hels Tek knows they’re here, it’s more important than ever to defend it and make sure it stays open. Besides, if people started wandering off on their own, it would only increase the likelihood of someone getting captured, lost, or left behind.

So right now, the four of them are all Tango’s got. 

(Oh, I can’t wait for-)

(Shh, don’t ruin it, just watch.)

That’s not worrying at all. This is fine. This is fine, they can handle it. He just needs to keep his head, stay the course. Failure isn’t an option. Failure would mean leaving Tango trapped here, and Jimmy refuses to let that happen. So he’s got to keep going, stay alert, stay focused-

“Stop,” Pearl says suddenly, grabbing Scott by the arm. “We’re ‘bout to have company.”

No sooner has she finished her sentence than five guards turn the corner at a sprint, swords bristling.

Wings unfurling, Pearl jumps into the air, allowing Scott to rain down arrows from above. They hang back to provide aerial support, giving Jimmy and Bravo the floor.

Jimmy spreads his wings, shooting forward to scoop Bravo beneath the arms. He flies straight at the guards, gaining speed, before spinning mid-air to launch Bravo at the nearest of them.

Bravo comes down on the guard with his sword, stabbing through the curve where their neck meets their shoulder. Jimmy dives after him and slams a foot down on the sword, driving it deeper into the guard’s body- deep enough to slip into their chest cavity. 

Blood splatters on Jimmy’s face. The guard explodes into a shower of respawn smoke and items.

Jimmy lands on his feet in a crouch, and Bravo vaults over him to kick another guard back. Straightening up, Jimmy equips his sword and catches Bravo’s eyes for a heartbeat, understanding passing between them.

There’s no discussion. They charge forward together, fighting side by side.

The last time Jimmy fought Hels players, it didn’t go well, and he’s still got the crooked nose to prove it. He’ll be the first to admit his PVP skills are lacking. But this time, the slowness from Scott’s arrows makes all the difference.

Dodging the next guard’s swing, Jimmy retaliates with a wide sweep of his own, their swords locking with a screech and a shower of sparks. In the same breath, Bravo ducks in between them and plunges his sword up- under the bottom of the guard’s chestplate, into their stomach.

Poof.

Jimmy uses the momentum to charge forward, bringing his sword down on the next guard’s helmet. It’s a clumsy but heavy blow- the guard staggers, and Bravo whips around to slash through their neck. Blood sprays through the air.

Two down, three to go.

On any other day, under any other circumstances, Jimmy knows he wouldn’t have stood a chance. Even now, he hasn’t miraculously developed the strength to overpower these bigger Hels players, nor the speed and knowledge to execute those clean, skillful attacks like Bravo.

But he doesn’t need to. All it takes is a strike to unbalance his opponent, to keep their attention, draw their defense. He’s the larger target, and with the slowness arrows doing their part, the guards can’t react fast enough as Bravo twists around them to deliver the killing blow.

Slash, jab- poof.

The last guard’s slowness has worn off at this point, but it’s too late. Jimmy’s already there; a powerful flap of his wings takes his feet off the ground to strike out at the guard, kicking with all his might.

Clang!

It hits the guard square in the chest, toppling them backwards. They land hard, and Bravo springs on top of themt, plunging his sword down right between their eyes.

Splat, poof.

Bravo straightens up, wiping the blood off his chin with the back of his hand. Jimmy braces his hands on his knees for a moment as his heart rate comes down. They’re both bloody and out of breath, but they managed not to take a single hit. And sure, the slowness arrows helped a lot, but Jimmy will take his wins where he can.

Bravo gives him an appraising look. “Nice job.”

Jimmy cracks a grin. “I have my moments.”

“Oh-kay,” Scott whistles as he and Pearl catch up, “go off, Timmy!”

Oof, that feels strange- but it’s just a force of habit, Jimmy knows. He glances over his shoulder at them. “Thanks for the cover fire. You guys good?”

“Yep.” Pearl nods expectantly. “Lead on.”

Bravo flicks the excess blood off his sword, speckling the white walls. “Alright, the south wing is just through here.” He nods toward the iron door at the end of the hallway. “Let’s go.”

They start moving again. Residual adrenaline itches across Jimmy’s skin, the metallic scent of blood clogging his nose. He’s surprised with their brutality himself, but he doesn’t regret it. There’s no reason to hold back here. These players are standing between him and getting Tango back, so it has to be done.

He’s honestly more surprised at how well he and Bravo fought together- as if they’d rehearsed it. Not what he would’ve expected, considering the way they butt heads, his own lack of expertise, and the fact that they were on opposite sides of a fight just earlier today. 

But privately, he’s just glad he didn’t make an absolute fool of himself. There’s a reason he’s always been out first in their death games.

Once they reach the door, Bravo motions for them all to crouch before nodding at Pearl. She listens for a moment, antennae twitching, before she holds up two fingers.

Bravo doesn’t bother with the keycard this time. Pulling out his pickaxe, he breaks the door down- and Pearl and Scott swoop through.

There’s an aborted shout, the sound of arrows flying, and the clang of a sword. By the time Jimmy’s through the doorway, Pearl is standing down the hall amidst a scattering of dropped items, sword lax at her side and a fierce grin on her blood-stained face.

“Jeeze, Pearl!” Scott says, raising his eyebrows and lowering his bow.

Pearl glances over her shoulder at them, expression growing sheepish. “I’m sorry, I think I got a little bit crazy…”

Jimmy flutters over to them, Bravo in tow. “No, no, I- don’t be sorry, I’m…” he trails off as he takes in the sign next to the door, the one the guards were posted outside.

It says ‘Tango Tek.’ Jimmy feels his blood boil.

“Well, this is it.” Bravo glances at Pearl and Scott. “You two keep watch out here, alright?” Then he unlocks the door, holding it open for Jimmy. “Come on.”

Jimmy rushes inside, Bravo following after him. But the sight that greets them makes him stop cold, anger quickly giving way to shock and horror.

He knew, roughly, what all the blaze farm entailed. But he’s still not prepared to actually see it.

Behind a wall of glass, Tango’s suspended by iron chains inside a little one-by-two chamber. Wither roses sprout from the soul sand beneath him, long vines wound tightly around his body, thorns digging into his skin. Particles of regeneration bubble around him, but the withering is clearly causing damage; the blaze rods above Tango’s head respawn as quickly as they’re sucked away by hoppers.

Tango looks absolutely miserable. He hangs limp and lifeless in his chains- but as the door clicks shut behind them, he lifts his head and manages a tired smile.

“Hey, honey,” he rasps, “good to see ya.”

“Tango!” Jimmy flies over, his eyes stinging with sudden tears. Their health might not be linked in this world, but his heart aches for Tango all the same. “Tango, oh gosh, I- I’m so sorry. I’m here, I’m here.” He pulls out his pickaxe and sets to shattering the glass wall.

“Sorry we took so long,” Bravo adds, walking up beside Jimmy. “We had a uh, unforeseen complication… there may have been ninja ravager airdrop-ification involved.” As soon as the glass is gone, he starts cutting the wither rose vines off Tango with careful slices of his sword.

Tango huffs a hoarse laugh. “Oh, oh great. Guess our buddy’s Atlas has been busy these last few weeks, huh?”

With the wither roses cut away, he seems to be breathing easier, now. And thankfully, they don’t look to have left any new wither stains on his skin. Jimmy hopes that the lingering regeneration effect will take care of the rest.

“Okay, okay, hang on…” he murmurs, turning his attention to the chains. His eyes widen as he realizes just how many are locked around Tango’s body- his arms, his legs, the collar around his neck. “Jeeze, this is- they went absolutely mental with these. Overkill much?”

“I know, right?” Tango snorts. “It’s- it’s almost flattering, in a way.”

Fortunately, they all seem to be made of regular run-of-the-mill iron with no complicated redstone bits. It’s easy enough for him and Bravo to slip their tools in between the links and give a sharp twist to snap them. Working quickly but methodically, they break the chains in an order that won’t awkwardly drop Tango to the ground- or choke him out by the collar around his throat. And as the last chains fall away, leaving only his old cuffs around his wrists, Jimmy’s right there to catch him.

“Are you okay?” he asks, easing Tango to the floor. “I mean- sorry, that’s- that’s a dumb question-”

“No, no, I’m okay,” Tango says. He’s trembling slightly and clinging to Jimmy so tight it’s just shy of being painful, but his red eyes are bright, and he grins at Jimmy with all his sharp, lovely teeth. “I’m okay.”

It’s hard to imagine how Tango is still functioning after what he’s been through. From the emotional side of things, too, not just physically. Being locked back in that farm must’ve not only been painful, but the realization of his worst nightmare, the one that’s chased him for nearly a decade. The culmination of all his deepest fears and insecurities, his self-hatred and feelings of worthlessness… being reduced to nothing more than a mob whose only use is in a farm. Even done intentionally, as part of a plan, it takes a lot of strength to overcome something like that.

Yet strangely enough, Jimmy believes him. There’s a change in Tango’s eyes- it’s like nothing Jimmy’s seen before, not even back in those peaceful days they spent together before this whole Hels mess started. Back then, Tango had been hiding from his past. Haunted by it. Only through hindsight has Jimmy realized just how badly it was affecting Tango all that time, the host of subtle little things he’d brushed off suddenly clicking together and making sense.

So only now does he see what Tango looks like without that fear hanging over him. The shadow that’s gone from his eyes. They’re fierce and determined and alive in a way that sends chills across Jimmy’s skin. While he knows for a fact that they’ve found joy and contentment and love together, it’s apparent that only now does Tango feel free.

No doubt there’s still a long road ahead of them. But for this step, right now, Jimmy couldn’t be more proud of his soulmate.

He presses a kiss to Tango’s forehead. “Well- good, but it’d be okay if you weren’t, y’know?”

Tango’s smile turns fond. “I know.”

Bravo clears his throat. “Hey, uh, if you two are done cuddling, we need to get moving. Most of the others got wiped out,” he explains, putting his pickaxe away, “so they’ll be waitin’ for us back at the portal. But first, we gotta find Atlas.”

Tango knits his brows together. “All this excitement probably drew him out of his hole. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s on his way here right now.”

“Good.” Bravo nods. “Saves us the trouble of trackin’ him down. All we gotta do is make him open his ender chest to get the key, right, and then we’re outta here.”

Jimmy helps Tango to his feet. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Tango assures him. “That regen is powerful stuff.”

He’s still a little shaky for Jimmy’s taste, but true to his word, he stands on his own. Jimmy turns to the door. “Right. Let’s-”

“Watch out!”

Pearl’s voice cries out from the hallway. There’s the distinct twang of a bow firing, a shout from Scott- only to be cut short.

Jimmy sprints through the door, followed closely by Tango and Bravo.

Two more piles of items are on the floor. Down at the end of the hallway stands Atlas with a raised crossbow and an arrow in his shoulder, flanked by half a dozen guards.

Atlas’s black lab coat cuts a sharp figure against the quartz walls, like a shadow come to life, light flashing in his shades. Slowly, he lowers his crossbow and reaches up to pull the arrow out, unflinching, as that sickly grin splits across his face.

“Well, well, well.”

(Speak of the devil.)

~*~

As soon as Tango sees Atlas, he steps in front of Jimmy, a low growl starting in his throat.

Now that he’s out of the farm and away from the wither roses, his adrenaline is kicking into overdrive. His muscles are rife with tension, ears twitching, and his heart pounds against his chest.

He takes in the scene quickly. Behind them is a dead end, and the other direction is blocked; Atlas, tossing a bloody arrow to the ground, and six guards. They’re all big, burly humans with mean faces. Most of them brandish swords, while two of them have tridents with what looks like a net of chains strung inbetween. Do they have net launch-ification technology?

“I was hoping I’d catch you three together,” Atlas drawls, folding his arms behind his back. Slowness particles bubble out of his shoulder wound like blood. “Mr. Bravo, I must say, I was rather disappointed to discover your treachery.”

Bravo scowls. “Yeah, well, I don’t give a shit what you think about me.”

Amused, Atlas’s gaze slowly travels over to Tango. “And how did you manage to turn him to your side, hm, Tango?” His lip curls. “Manipulative little monster.”

Tango hardly processes the insult, but Jimmy’s wings puff up indignantly. “Don’t call him that!”

“You know,” Atlas continues, unbothered, “all that’s going to come of this little escape mission is the addition of some new farms to my collection.” He grins at Jimmy. “Starting with you.” 

The guards throw their tridents in tandem, launching the net across the hall.

Tango dives out of the way, but Jimmy isn’t fast enough. The net knocks him flat onto his back, pinned into place by the weight of the chains and the tridents embedded in the floor. He cries out in pain, and only now can Tango see that the net is studded with wither rose thorns, piercing Jimmy’s skin.

Tango sees red.

A snarl tears itself out of his throat. He charges forward to meet the attacking guards, leaping into the air and slashing the nearest one across the face. 

The guard howls with pain, striking out blindly. Their sword grazes Tango’s arm but he hardly notices it, hardly even feels the sting, too focused on sinking his teeth into their throat. The instant the guard disappears, he’s darting away, on to the next one.

Tango’s senses are hyper-alert, nose flaring at the scent of blood. His pulse thrums in his ears. He’s scarcely aware of Bravo fighting beside him, just a blur in his periphery. A distant part of him is aware of how savage he’s being, but he can’t bring himself to care.

If they want to treat him like a monster, then he’ll fight them like one, too.

He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t question the feel of his claws tearing through flesh. There’s something primal inside him shrieking with bloodlust, and he’s more than happy to oblige it. It feels good. It feels natural. Like he’s been fighting with his right hand all his life only to discover he’s a leftie. No wonder traditional PVP has never been his strength; in this one way, perhaps he is more mob than player.

And he’s perfectly fine with that.

By the time Tango reaches Atlas, his slowness effect has worn off. He’s locked in combat with Bravo, swords clashing in a series of rapid jabs and slashes- a skillful and deadly dance. It’s clear he’s got plenty of experience with PVP, trading blows with Bravo like it’s nothing, as simple and instinctive as breathing.

But he isn’t prepared for Tango to leap at him like an animal, claws outstretched and teeth bared.

Atlas dodges, but it’s a near thing. He’s thrown off-balance, scrambling to back up as Tango advances with another wild swipe- it tears through the front of his lab coat, carving a shallow gash across his chest. He brings his sword up to parry but it doesn’t catch Tango’s claws like it would another blade- a costly miscalculation that sends his sword flying from his grasp.

It clatters loudly to the ground. Bravo takes the opening; he jabs the point of his sword into Atlas’s leg, behind the kneecap, and twists.

Pop!

This time Atlas doesn’t hold back his scream. He goes down instantly, his right leg no longer able to support him. Bravo kicks Atlas’s sword away, out of reach, before grabbing Atlas by the collar and throwing him at the wall. He slumps against it, injured leg curled awkwardly beneath him, breathing raggedly but making no move to rise again.

All six of the guards are dead, respawned away and leaving behind a blood bath.

It’s over.

And just like that, Tango’s calm again, pausing to catch his breath. He hasn’t lost himself completely to the rage of a bloodthirsty animal. He hasn’t surrendered his rational thought or his sense of being. It happened, and now it’s passed. Just like if he’d fought with sword and shield over claws and teeth. He almost feels silly, to have ever feared otherwise.

He glances at Bravo; they’ve both sustained a few minor cuts and bruises, but overall, nothing serious. “Hold him there,” he tells Bravo, before turning to run back down the hall. “Hang on, Jimmy!”

Jimmy is right where Tango left him, struggling beneath the chain net. He’s managed to work one arm out from under it, trying in vain to free himself, but he can’t get the right leverage on the tridents anchoring the net to the ground. Tango falls to his knees and rips one of the tridents away, tossing it aside, and starts pulling the net back.

Jimmy pushes himself upright with a pained grunt, shoving the last of the chains off. There are dozens of little marks dotted across his skin, like a constellation of inky pin pricks- leftover from the wither thorns.

Tango throws his arms around Jimmy. “God, are- are you okay, honey?” he asks frantically, pulling away to study Jimmy’s face.

Jimmy shudders. “Man, that wither rose is brutal,” he says, aghast. “How’d you stand it?”

Despite it all, Tango manages to crack a smile. “Well, you know, I’m basically part furnace,” he says, straightening up and offering Jimmy his hand.

Jimmy huffs a faint laugh, letting Tango pull him to his feet. The black spots are already starting to vanish, to Tango’s immense relief. He doesn’t think he could handle it if Jimmy ended up with permanent wither stains.

He doesn’t let go of Jimmy’s hand as they walk down the hall together. Bravo steps back when they approach, though he keeps his gaze and his sword trained on Atlas.

Atlas’s face is pale and sheened with sweat, but he still grins at them. “Well, well,” he breathes, struggling to his feet. His right leg won’t support him; he braces a hand against the wall. “Seems you caught me off-guard, Mr. Tango. I wasn’t expecting you to embrace that monstrous nature of yours so willingly.”

Tango shrugs. “Sure, why not? Some of my best friends are monsters.”

Clearly, Atlas wasn’t expecting that response. But he only falters for a moment before his grin returns to full strength. “This is pointless. You’ll never make it-”

“Hey, hey, no one asked you,” Bravo snaps, placing down an ender chest. “Now no funny business, okay, or I’ll break all your fucking fingers.”

Atlas eyes him for a moment, as if debating the validity of the threat and whether or not he’d be able to escape. But ultimately he must decide it’s not worth it, because he flips the ender chest open, reaches inside, and withdraws a familiar iron key.

Tango’s breath catches. Despite how well their plan has worked so far, part of him wasn’t expecting to actually make it this far. It’s almost too good to be true, but it seems like Atlas has finally run out of tricks.

Atlas holds the key out with a flourish. “Your prize,” he sneers.

Jimmy’s quick to snatch it from him, shooting him a glare. He softens as he turns to Tango. “Here, can I…?”

“Please do,” Tango hums nervously, lifting his chin. 

“Alright, here goes.” Jimmy puts a hand on Tango’s shoulder to steady him, reaching forward with the other to slip the key into its lock.

There’s a click, and the collar falls away, clattering to the ground.

Tango inhales sharply at the feel of wither thorns pulling out of his skin. The relief is immediate; his blaze rods ignite with renewed fire, warmth spreading through his body all the way to the tips of his clawed fingers. It’s tingly, like moving a limb after it’s fallen asleep, but he’s glad for it.

He sees his relief reflected in Jimmy’s expression- though it’s quickly replaced with a wince as his gaze traces Tango’s neck.

Tango exhales. “It stained, huh.”

Jimmy swallows, eyes full of anger and sorrow. “I’m so sorry.”

Tango’s almost surprised by how little it bothers him. “Hey, no problem,” he says easily, reaching up to squeeze Jimmy’s hand. “I mean, I’ve got such a unique style already, I- I feel like it’ll fit in perfectly. A little studded choker action, right?”

That manages to get a laugh out of Jimmy, though he wipes at his eyes. “Right, yeah. You pull it off well.”

Bravo clears his throat. “Okay, so, we good?” He jerks his chin at Atlas. “Let’s kill this asshole and get moving.”

“This doesn’t change anything,” Atlas says mildly, leveling his gaze at Tango. “You’ll always be nothing more than a monster-”

“Shut up!” Jimmy takes a step forward, gripping his sword, but Tango puts a hand out.

He knows they don’t have time to linger very long, but he’s got unfinished business with Atlas. Before he walks out of here, he needs to say his piece, because if he doesn’t, he knows he’ll never fully shake Atlas’s hold on him.

“You know,” he starts thoughtfully, “I- I’m startin’ to think that term isn’t the uh, the moral condemnation that you think it is. The way I see it, it’s like- okay, I’m a blond, I’m a redstoner, I’m a monster, yada-yada-yada. They’re just… traits, right? Like, sorta… physical descriptors without any, er- particular positive or negative connotation attached. ‘Cause uh, bein’ a monster doesn’t automatically make me a bad person- same way being a human doesn’t make you a good one.” He tilts his head. “I mean, you’re one of the shittiest people I’ve ever met, so.” 

Atlas is still grinning, but there’s a sudden shiftiness in his eyes that makes Tango pause. Almost like he’s hiding something. The gears start to turn in Tango’s mind.

“So uh,” he continues, “if you genuinely think our biology or- or data is what determines the choices that we make, and the kinda person we become, then… you’ve gotta be pretty stupid.”

There- Atlas’s face twitches.

Bravo seems to pick up on where Tango’s going. “Yeah, same for Hels players,” he says, crossing his arms. “I mean, basing the whole idea of ‘the inherent evilness of Hels’ on a little bit of data analysis? I- I can’t believe I bought into such a poorly supported theory, it’s just- it’s shoddy science.”

Jimmy gives Atlas a reproachful look. “Tango has shown himself to be one of the most caring, generous, and brilliant people I’ve ever met,” he spits. “You think that’s not possible, just because he’s part mob? Then honestly, I feel sorry for ya, mate.”

Tango’s heart swells; Jimmy doesn’t seem to realize what they’re doing, he’s just coming to Tango’s defense anyway. “I know, right?” he laughs. Then, just to really drive the point home- “And here I always thought you were the smart one-”

“Of course I know that!” Atlas finally explodes, throwing an arm out. “I’ve always known that! You think I grew up in this world truly believing that humans weren’t just as capable of depravity? That hybrids weren’t our intellectual or moral equals? No, I’ve always known. But portraying you as a vicious, mindless monster makes you easier to exploit. And I’ve not only convinced my sponsors, clients, and employees of that, but I even got you to believe it, yourself!”

His grin is truly manic now, eyes wild and blazing with fury behind his shades. “Do you know how clever I had to be to pull off such a degree of dehumanization? How methodically and painstakingly I wove that narrative over decades of work? ‘Shoddy science’?! It was my magnum fucking opus!”

A stunned silence follows his outburst. Tango lets out a slow, heavy breath, and Atlas’s anger quickly drains from his face as he realizes the weight of what he’s just revealed.

It wasn’t Tango’s fault.

He was never too monstrous, too chaotic, too evil. Sure, he’s got his vices, but who doesn’t? Claws or not, no one is perfect. Now he knows that it was never anything he did to bring Atlas’s torture onto himself, nothing he ever did to deserve it, because even Atlas doesn’t believe that. Atlas did it because he’s evil, and cared more about producing a revolutionary new farm than considering the harm it would do to a fellow player. He could’ve done the same to any other mob hybrid- and in fact, still fully intends to.

It’s nothing to do with who Tango is as a person, and all to do with the blaze rods floating above his head. Nothing else. Tango can live with that.

Bravo shakes his head, incredulous. “Son of a bitch…”

But Tango smiles. “Thanks, Atlas,” he says sincerely, “I needed to hear that.” 

Then he punches Atlas in the face.

The resounding crack is immensely satisfying. Atlas’s head snaps to the side, glasses and spit flying as he falls backwards. Tango’s hand is aching but it’s worth it to see Atlas look so… human. Gone is the unnatural grin and that tall, dark figure who always loomed so large in Tango’s mind. Right now, he’s just a man sprawled on his ass whose blood is staining Tango’s knuckles.

(He’s got a feeling Atlas won’t be showing up that much in his nightmares from now on.)

Atlas pushes himself up and spits out a tooth- one of his upper incisors. Blood streams down his nose and trickles out of his parted mouth. He stares up at Tango, and without his tinted glasses, Tango realizes their eyes are exactly the same shade of red.

“Clever devil,” Atlas breathes.

Bravo steps forward to deliberately crush Atlas’s shades under his shoe. “Always gotta be the smartest one in the goddamn room, huh?” he asks, twirling his sword in his hand.

Sching!

Tango briefly glimpses the inside of Atlas’s skull before he respawns away, blood and brain matter painting the wall.

“Good riddance,” Jimmy sniffs.

Bravo glances at Tango. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Tango grins. “After you, good sir.”

The three of them take off, leaving the south wing- and the farm- behind. 

Their pounding footsteps echo loudly in the empty halls. It doesn’t take Tango long to recognize where they’re headed. The garage makes sense, considering they used Clear to open the portal. He’s surprised, however, that they don’t encounter any guards along the way. There’s plenty of evidence of them; items littering the hallways, blood smears on the floor. But not a single player to be found.

If Tango didn’t know better, he’d chalk it up to good luck. But of course, once they burst through the door to the garage, the true reason immediately becomes apparent.

Nearly the entire workforce of Hels Tek, scientists and security guards alike, are embroiled in battle with the Double Lifers. It’s a chaotic scene, the air filled with shouts and screams and the clashing of metal-

Cleo stands tall beside the portal, bodily throwing any opponent who attempts to sneak through, while Ren slashes at them with his massive claws-

Grian and Pearl are airbound, zipping around the garage while carrying Scar and Scott, respectively, who fire arrows into the crowd-

Etho and Joel fight back to back, shields raised against the heavy blows of their bigger opponents, while Martyn tosses a potion into the air-

Bravo whips around to decapitate the player that charges through the door behind them. “We can’t stay here!” he shouts above the noise.

Heart pounding, Tango scans the room. Movement catches his eye; Impulse, waving at them from behind a parked flying machine.

Tango makes a beeline for it, trusting that Jimmy and Bravo are following. Dodging swords and arrows alike, they manage to reach their target unimpeded, diving behind the cover of the large contraption.

Impulse pulls Tango into a quick hug. “You made it!”

He’s crouched beside Bdubs, who’s got one leg stretched out, riddled with arrows. “Well, look here- lookie who it is!” he crows. “Nice’a you guys to join us!”

Tango manages a breathless laugh. “How we lookin’?”

“Not great,” Impulse frowns, “we can’t go through ‘til they’re all dead, or else they’ll follow us before we can break the portal on the other side. But we can’t kill them fast enough- they just keep respawning and coming back.”

Tango dares to peek around the flying machine. The fighting is pretty thick, and centered in the middle of the garage. If there was a way to create some sort of barrier in front of the portal that would hold Hels Tek back long enough for everyone to escape… something that they had full control over, and would persist even after they left… 

Sudden realization seizes him.

“I’ll take care of it,” he says, turning away. “Get everyone through, now-”

Jimmy catches his arm. “Hold on, where are you going?” he demands.

Tango shakes him off. “Don’t worry. Just get to the portal, alright-”

“Uh, ‘scuse me? We’re in this together, right-”

“There’s no time-”

“I’m not leavin’ without you!”

“- you to get hurt!”

“Please, Tango.” Jimmy grabs his shoulders, voice filled with desperation. “I- I can’t lose you.”

Tango softens. He takes Jimmy’s face in his hands and pulls him into a kiss, slow and reverent. “You won’t,” he murmurs, easing back to smile at him. “I promise.”

Jimmy searches his expression for a moment before relenting. “Alright,” he whispers, squeezing Tango’s hand. “Go get ‘em, babe.”

Steeling himself, Tango steps back out onto the battlefield.

A strange sense of calm settles over him. All the noise is muted in his ears, like he’s underwater, the sea of movement a blur. He moves with an ease that’s entirely foreign to him, lightly twisting through and around the writhing mass of bodies until he’s standing alone in front of the portal.

Tango closes his eyes and reaches for his fire.

Flames erupt from his blaze rods, swirling madly and spitting embers. It grows into a cyclone around him, ebbing and flowing with his breath, expanding to envelop him completely. The flames wash harmlessly over his skin; his own fire can never hurt him. There’s no hesitation inside him- no doubt, no fear.

He’s entirely in control, the captain of his own personal firestorm.

Tango opens his eyes and pushes his hands out and up, directing the flames to spread and rise into a great, fiery wall. Arrows shot his way are incinerated instantly, exploding into ash. As he concentrates on his task, he’s aware of his friends in his periphery, and is careful to keep the fire from reaching them.

The Hels Tek players receive no such care. Anyone too slow to react or too bold to flee is readily consumed, the room filling with their screams and the scent of burning flesh. Using smooth, delicate movements, Tango closes the wall into a ring of fire around the portal, as focused and steady as an artist composing a painting.

This is his magnum opus. Blaze and player perfectly united as one being, at peace in mind and body.

Once it’s complete, he steps back out of the flames. He takes a long, final look around the place. The remaining Hels Tek players watch from behind the firewall, furious but helpless to stop him. All the Double Lifers have departed, with the exception of Jimmy, who is waiting by the portal. Firelight glimmers in his deep brown eyes, face glowing with awe and pride.

Smiling, Tango turns his back to Hels Tek and walks over to his soulmate, taking the offered hand.

“Ready to get outta here?” Jimmy asks softly.

“Yeah,” Tango says, “let’s go home, honey.”

Together, they step into the portal. Tango turns his head just in time to see Atlas burst into the room, frantically shoving his way through to the front of the crowd. He locks eyes with Tango through the flames.

“No!” he shouts, and Tango is much gratified to see that Atlas’s front tooth is still missing after his respawn. His trademark grin is gonna look so goddamn stupid now.

Tango turns away, looking into Jimmy’s eyes as light swirls around them. 

~*~

Atlas sits hunched on a rock outside, cast in the shadow of Hels Tek.

The facility is still burning, thick smoke billowing out of shattered windows that flicker with light. He can hear the distant roars of a ravager inside; the guards he sent in to recapture the beast have thus far been unsuccessful. The flames will likely take it soon, along with all the other mobs locked away in their various farms.

What a waste.

Most of his personnel have given up on trying to stop the fire. They mill about uselessly, stained with soot and blood, speaking in low tones and casting not-so-subtle glances in his direction. Clear is running around in a panic, ranting to anyone who will listen about how he needs to find Scáil. It was his doppelgänger they used to open the portal, as Atlas has come to find.

Of course.

Part of him is aware of what a poor sight he makes; his lab coat rumpled and dusted with ash, his sweaty hair mussed and plastered to his forehead. Without his shades, there’s no hiding how tired his eyes must look, set into his haggard face. And his normally commanding posture is weak and weary, entirely lacking any presence of control.

Worst of all, though, is that he can’t bring himself to care.

His communicator lies forgotten in his lap, chat blinking up at him. He’s scrolled through it all a dozen times already, mentally replaying the sequence of events over and over again- though he has yet to make sense of it.

Absently, he presses his tongue into the gap left by his missing tooth.

(All the while, his mind is spinning. How had he missed it? How had he missed it? To be outsmarted by Tango and Bravo, of all people… they’d shown him exactly what he wanted to see, and he hadn’t thought to question it. He was too eager to believe that his manipulation had paid off, that he’d turned Bravo against his own doppelgänger and convinced Tango to give up.

His shame is rivaled only by his hatred. All the work he’s done in the last ten years, all his patient waiting and careful planning, his effort, his progress, has gone up in smoke. It’s not just the physical damage to the facility that concerns him; no doubt word is already starting to spread. He rebuilt himself from bedrock bottom once before, and he isn’t sure if he can do it again-)

“Hey man,” a familiar voice calls. “Rough day?”

bX is walking up to him, followed by a large group of players- hired muscle from Alisker. Their appearance quickly gets everyone’s attention, a sudden hush falling over the area as all eyes turn their way.

Heart jolting, Atlas jumps to his feet. He hastily smoothes the front of his coat. “Mr. bX, I can explain-”

“Save it.” bX waves him off. “We already know what happened. And uh, I gotta say… Papa Al isn’t happy.”

Atlas’s stomach drops. He folds his arms behind his back, trying for a placating smile. “I’ll admit, the situation got slightly out of hand, but-”

“I don’t think you get how bad this is,” bX says lightly, tilting his head. He raises his voice to address the gathered crowd. “Papa Al is repossessing all of Hels Tek’s resources and assets, effective immediately. We’ll honor the contracts of anyone who wants to stay employed, but uh… yeah, we’re done here.”

He lifts a hand, and the group behind him disperses. Setting up piles of chests and shulkers, they descend upon Hels Tek with pickaxes in hand, throwing down splash potions of fire resistance as they go. Then, to Atlas’s horror, they start to dismantle the facility, block by block.

“No, stop!” Atlas protests. He tries to rush forward, but bX casually steps forward to block his path. “This is my life’s work, you can’t do that-”

“Oh, yeah?” bX puts his hands on his hips, amused. “Are… you gonna stop us? ‘Cause uh, looks to me like your employees don’t mind.”

Atlas hates that he’s right; no one is lifting a finger to stop them. In fact, a few of them move forward to help. “Mr. bX, please reconsider-”

“Sorry, but you’re out of chances, Atlas,” bX chuckles. “From now on, all of New Helington’s redstone needs will be fulfilled by someone else. I actually think you know him, it’s Instinct E.V., over at iRaid?”

Fuck. “What?!” Atlas demands, eyes widening. “You can’t be serious! Instinct is a charlatan- all he cares about is churning out the cheapest, quickest product for the masses. He’s not an innovator, he’s not interested in expanding our scientific horizons-”

“So?” bX shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to Papa Al so long as it’s profitable.”

“But he’s already invested so much into Hels Tek, into hybrid farming-”

“Yeah, uh... about that…” bX inhales through his teeth. “He’s not, like… super attached to the whole idea.”

Atlas splutters. “What do you mean? How could you possibly say that-”

He stops. bX just blinked sideways, a clear membrane sliding across eyes that suddenly have slitted pupils. He grins with teeth that are inexplicably sharp, and for a brief moment, the skin on his neck flaps up to reveal gills.

Then he blinks again, and his appearance shifts back to that of a human.

A chill runs down Atlas’s spine. “You..?” he breathes, taking a step back. “But… why? Why would Alisker fund me if he knew I was after hybrids?”

bX hums noncommittally. “Y’know, when an up-and-coming redstone entrepreneur comes to Papa Al with a revolutionary new idea, it can go a couple ways. If he turned you down, he knew you’d just go get sponsored by one of his rivals, and then he wouldn’t have any power over you. You’d become a threat. So he took you up on it, making sure he’d be able to keep you under his thumb. And hey, if your idea was successful, then he’d make a nice profit while also making sure you never came close to me. No harm, no foul.”

“But if your idea wasn’t successful?” he continues, quirking a brow. “If you failed again and again, despite all his generous support? Well, then clearly the problem lies with you, and no other bigshot in Hels would be crazy enough to give you another chance. Not after seeing how much time and effort Papa Al sunk into you, with no return on his investment.”

“And sure, yeah, he could’ve tried to shut you down at the start with threats and intimidation.” He scratches casually at his beard. “Could’ve had me break every bone in your body, or trap you in a death loop ‘til you got the message. But that’d be too suspicious- why would Papa Al have a reason to be against hybrid farming? It’d be exposing a weak spot for his rivals to strike. So instead he decided to do things this way, and kill you in the only way that matters.”

Without warning, bX swings his fist into Atlas’s stomach. Gasping in pain, Atlas doubles over, and bX leans in to speak lowly in his ear.

“Your name is dirt, now. I hope you enjoyed your time at the top of the redstone game, ‘cause you’ll never reach it again.” He turns his back to Atlas, pausing to call over his shoulder, “But hey, cheer up... they’re always hiring at iRaid.”

bX walks away, laughing.

Atlas falls to his knees. He watches helplessly as his entire world is destroyed and, despite the hatred churning inside him, he knows that he’s the only one to blame.

~*~

Somewhere in Hermitcraft, a player stands before a crowd.

“So, uh- that’s pretty much it,” Tango finishes, clapping his hands together. “Any questions?”

The Hermits look back at him, speechless. It took a while to get through the entire explanation, to manage the waves of shock and anger and sorrow as they came. But now that the story’s finished, and he’s emphasized just how okay he’s doing now- while also announcing he’ll be taking a little vacation to Double Life, they seem to have finally settled on acceptance.

It was easier than he thought it’d be, to tell the rest of his friends about his past. But having a few of them already aware of the situation helped a lot- Impulse, Bdubs, Etho, Cleo, Ren, Pearl, Grian, Mumbo, and Scar were very supportive the whole way through. They even hang around to answer questions about the whole Hels Tek ordeal, offloading some of the work from Tango.

As Tango mills about among the Hermits, there’s still plenty to talk about. He gets some apologies for things said or done that might’ve unknowingly harmed him- “I’m so sorry for puttin’ you in a lab,” Zedaph cringes, “I- I feel so foolish!”- which are unnecessary but appreciated. There are technical questions about the portals and counterparts- “Do you think I could get a look at your comm, sometime, maybe?” Doc asks, trying and failing to not sound suspicious- which Tango answers as best he can. A few of them even say things that make him raise an eyebrow- “Hey, uh, d’you think you could swing by my base when you get back?” False asks lowly. “For- for no reason.”- which makes him think he’s far from the only Hermit with secrets.

And of course, he gets a lot of reassurances and condolences, which doesn’t surprise him at this point. But still, it’s nice to know he’s fully accepted by his friends, and it feels amazing to finally come clean about it all.

Later, Grian takes him aside. “See? I told you, nothin’ to worry about.”

“Oh yeah, fly boy?” Tango asks, folding his arms. “So are you- does that mean you’re gonna tell everyone what’s up with you?”

“Nah, nah, nah.” Grian shakes his head with a wry grin. “Later. I- I don’t wanna steal your thunder, here.”

Tango snorts. “Oh, trust me, I- I would love to have some of my thunder stolen right now.”

All the attention is a bit uncomfortable- but he knows it comes from a genuine place of sympathy and concern. He was prepared for it as soon as he decided it was time to fill the rest of the Hermits in. Talking about it all isn’t as hard as it was before, even just a couple weeks ago, and he has a feeling it’s only going to get easier from here on out.

He’s looking forward to it.

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player lounges in a pool.

Water laps at Alisker’s shoulders. bX’s scales are warm against his skin, the other man draped lazily across Alisker’s chest. His tail curls behind him, orange fins cutting through the water while his legs float listlessly. He’s stopped breathing, letting his gills take over respiration for now; a stillness that, while eerie at first, Alisker has grown familiar with over time.

The lavish private pool, tucked away through a hidden door in his office, has become a sort of sanctuary for them both. A place where Alisker can escape the pressures of his work, and bX can safely indulge his guardian hybrid instincts. Today, though, it’s a celebration of sorts.

“Tell me again, queenie,” Alisker coos, lightly stroking the spines along bX’s back. His fingers trace scars from the Arena, transferred from skin to scales.

“He looked like shit,” bX chuckles. “Missing a tooth, front and center. I told him- I said, ‘sorry, bud, you’re out of chances,’ and punched him in the gut for good measure.”

Alisker hums with satisfaction. Seeds of doubt he’d planted in Bravo’s mind years ago, regarding Atlas, have since flourished- nurtured further by Instinct’s aid during his time of need. In the end, he helped Tango escape Hels Tek, giving Alisker the ammunition to take Atlas down once and for all.

“He couldn’t do anything,” bX continues, “and he knew it. He just watched us take it all down. Oh, man, if you could’ve seen his face…”

Alisker tips bX’s chin up to kiss him, deep and languid, unflinching against his sharp teeth. “It’s about time,” he grins. “I been sick’a dat guy for years. See ya, Hels Tekky! Buh-bye!”

“Buh-bye, that’s right,” bX laughs.

The future of New Hellington is bright.

~*~ 

Somewhere in Double Life, a player stands in front of a portal.

It’s a standard comm portal, filled with swirling green light. Whenever Bravo looks at it, apprehension bubbles in his chest. A new solo survival world awaits him. He’s excited for it- the peace and solitude- but he’s scared of it at the same time. There won’t be anyone or anything to distract him from everything that’s happened. Just him and his thoughts. 

“Do you… really have to go?” Timmy murmurs, fidgeting with his hands.

Bravo sighs. “Hey, c’mon, you’ll be alright. You got Bigb and Ren lookin’ out for you, okay?”

Jimmy had offered him a place at the ranch, of course, but Timmy thought it’d be better for him to get a little distance from his doppelgänger. A chance to really grow himself as a person, rather than a shadow. 

With all of the Double Lifer’s support, he’s already made considerable progress in just the span of a few days. It’s amazing what a bath, a new set of clothes, and a good preening can do. His wings are now smooth and glossy black, to match his silky hair, with the faintest shimmer of blue when the light hits just right. It’s caused a significant change in the way he carries himself; nowhere near as closed off and afraid.

There’s still a long way to go. His feathers haven’t grown back in yet, so he’s been limited to ground exercises with Jimmy to start building up his strength. And while he’s finally been reintroduced to solid foods, it’s slow going, hardly making a difference in his emaciated condition. It makes Bravo anxious, to know just how much farther Timmy has to go without him here to oversee it.

But it’s for the best.

“Yeah, but…” Timmy exhales shakily. “I’ll miss you.”

Guilt gnaws at Bravo. “Look,” he says quietly, putting a hand on Timmy’s shoulder, “I’m not- you deserve better, okay? I- I don’t want you held back while waitin’ for me to work my shit out. You just focus on yourself, and maybe someday… we can try again.”

The hope glimmering in Timmy’s big eyes is a miraculous thing. “Okay,” he whispers, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

Bravo leans in- slowly, carefully, giving plenty of time to react- and presses a light kiss to Timmy’s cheek. He pulls away quickly, turning before Timmy can see the sudden tears in his eyes. “So, uh,” he clears his throat, “see ya later.”

“Bye,” Timmy says softly.

Taking a deep breath, Bravo steps into the portal and vanishes into the light.

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, two players walk through a jungle.

“I- I’m tellin’ ya,” Dbubs insists, holding his communicator out to Patho, “somethin’ weird is going on. I was just scrolling chat, you know, just- uh, just catchin’ up on today’s news. And I saw- there’s a- a- name in chat, same- similar name, and it’s… eeugh, it’s freaking weird! I got a bad feel- um, you know, dev- deja vu?”

”Yeah?” Patho asks, amused. “Like- is this like the time when you told me Herobrine had joined in chat?”

Dbubs flushes. “Oh, for goodness- can you just- can you please just check?” he pleads. “For me?”

Patho sighs good-naturedly, taking the comm. “Okay, okay…” He stops short as he processes the words staring up at him from chat.

BdoubleO100 has joined the game.

Patho has read a lot of player data over the years, enough to recognize the inherent patterns that translate to a player’s gamer tag. He’s memorized Dbubs’s player data by heart, enough to recognize its inverse pattern in this player’s name. That can only mean one thing.

He scrolls further.

Etho has joined the game.

This one sends a jolt of electricity down Patho’s spine. Abruptly, a series of images flashes through his mind- fishing rods and jungle leaves- a scarred hand holding a redstone torch- mismatched eyes peeking over a black mask. It’s an instinctive thing, shockingly familiar yet wholly unexpected.

“Well?” Dbubs is looking up at him, his big red eyes shimmering with apprehension.

“It’s nothing,” Patho says with an easy smile, handing the comm back. “Don’t worry about it.”

He’ll leave tonight, as soon as Dbubs is asleep. 

~*~

Somewhere in Hermitcraft, a player slips through a hidden door.

The bookshelf pushes back into place, sealing False in darkness. She pulls a torch out as she creeps down the stairs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Excitement bubbles inside her. Her mind is still reeling from all that Tango disclosed. To think, they might finally get some answers, after all this time…

“Hey, Sym?” she calls, stepping into the lab. “I- I think I know what’s wrong with you.”

Her mirror image stares back through the glass, giving her a baleful look through the curtain of hair in her face. Hanging limply in her chains, she says nothing. 

False isn’t discouraged, though. She presses a hand against the glass, a small, earnest smile playing across her lips.

“And I think I know someone who can help us.”

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player sits in a cave.

Clutching his knees to his chest, he rocks back and forth, wings drawn up around him like a cocoon of feathers. His physical eyes are long gone, empty sockets scarred over and caked with dry blood from his most recent episode. That doesn’t stop him from seeing, of course. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop seeing fragments of other worlds, fractured images that make up a chaotic sort of mosaic, flashing rapidly through his mind, nonstop.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, how long since he’s heard another player’s voice- for real, not the disjointed echoes from across time and space. Existing without end, without the slightest glimpse of light or taste of food. The universe sustains him now, like an unwitting parasite. His physical body is an afterthought at best, and a prison at worst.

It’s all suffering.

But something different happens today. He feels a sudden presence brush past him, oblivious, and it’s like looking in a mirror. It’s gone before he can react, before he can think to reach out to it, and he wouldn’t know how to even go about finding it again. He’s never had any control over what he sees. But there’s a name swirling in his mind; he clings to it, at once certain of its importance, though he doesn’t know why.

“Xᒷꖎᑑ⚍ᔑ,” Scáil whispers.

~*~

Somewhere in Hermitcraft, a player lands outside the perimeter.

“Doc?” Stress calls out, the echo of her voice immediately swallowed up by the massive bedrock-floored hole that stretches before her. “Are ya ‘ere?” She fires off a couple of the rockets in her hand for good measure. “Dooooc!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Doc gripes, emerging from the building behind her. What’s he calling it, the Hall of the Goat? Hall of the Geezer, more like. “Calm down.”

“Doc!” Stress spins around, running to jump up and throw her arms around his neck, beaming. “‘Ello, luv!”

Doc begrudgingly tolerates the show of affection, stiffly patting her on the back before prying her off. “I’ve been researching,” he says without preamble, dropping her to the ground, “through the Hivemind, you know, and I looked through Tango’s communicator… comparing, doing calculations…”

“Yeah?” Stress looks up at him eagerly. “So, what’d you reckon, ey?”

Doc makes a noncommittal noise. “This, eh, doppelgänger thing…” His face screws up; though only the organic half, as his cybernetics can’t mimic such an expression. “I don’t think either of us have one.”

“Oh, fank gawd.” Stress clutches her chest, exhaling. “Tha’s a relief, innit!”

A frown tugs at the corner of Doc’s mouth. “Is it?”

“Of course!” Stress says incredulously. “Dont’cha fink? I- I don’t want an evil Stress Monstah runnin’ round, luv! Or an evil Doc Monstah, for that matta’.”

“Me either. But it feels, eh, kind of… strange, no? To be the only players without a counterpart out there. I mean, are we now lacking something else that every other player has? We’re more alone than ever.”

“Well, look a’ it this way, yeah? If Axis did’n know ‘bout countah-parts, then it must’a been overworld data what he made us wif. So we got the good stuff and none’a the bad!”

“Hm. Good, bad…” Doc grumbles, flicking his ear. “It’s subjective, alright…” 

Stress clicks her tongue. “Aww, don’t you worry your gorgeous lil’ head ‘bout it,” she says, reaching up to playfully tug on his horn. “Way I see it, we just carry on, alrigh’? An’ if you eva decide you wanna tell the others where we came from, well… now we know it’ll be fine!”

Doc glances away. “Yeah, maybe,” he says, like he always does whenever she brings this topic up. “Anyway, just wanted to let you know…”

“Well, fank you!” Stress hums. “I’m always ‘ere if you wanna talk, ‘kay?”

As she flies away from the perimeter, she can’t help but think they’ve all been rather silly about this whole thing. ‘Poor Tango,’ she thinks. ‘Don’t he know he’s on a server of plonkahs? Oh, bless ‘im.’ 

Someday, they’ll have a lot to talk about.

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player watches from the shadows.

Golden eyes gaze out over the iRaid display floor, Instinct’s forked tail idly flicking through the air behind him. His longtime- rival-turned-underling is doing work, wheeling and dealing his fifth client of the day.

“Wonderful!” Atlas is saying to the player admiring the auto-sorting storage system. “I can promise you won’t be disappointed. If you’ll follow me to my office, we can work out all the pesky little details, including our flexible down payment options and brand new extended warranty…”

As he ushers his client towards his office, he notices Instinct watching him. Quickly excusing himself, Atlas hurries over, breaking into a wide grin. Its impact is somewhat diluted, however, by the gold tooth that features prominently in the front.

“Ah, Mr. Instinct,” he greets, straightening his yellow plaid suit jacket, “I’ve been meaning to speak with you!”

“Hey, man!” Instinct says cheerily- his tone a sharp contrast to his deep, growling voice. “Just uh, wanted to congratulate you on having the highest sales in the department- and in your first month, might I add!”

“Well, about that,” Atlas says haltingly, fidgeting with his clip-on tie. “If I may be frank, I’m not just some two-bit salesman. This is hardly a good use of my talents.”

“You think so, huh?” Instinct asks thoughtfully. He claps Atlas on the shoulder- the gesture nearly knocks him off his feet. “Could’a fooled me. Your numbers are great!”

Atlas readjusts his shades and summons his grin again; his teeth are gritted so tightly, it’s a wonder he doesn’t break them. “Mr. Instinct,” he starts, “while I am of course grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me, there’s so much more I could be doing for the company. If I were permitted to work with your research and development team, I’m certain I could come up with something revolutionary.”

‘Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ Instinct thinks. He knew it was only a matter of time before Atlas began trying to climb the corporate ladder. But Alisker was quite clear on the terms of their agreement; Atlas can be useful however Instinct sees fit, so long as he isn’t allowed any degree of power or authority.

That suits Instinct just fine.

“Nah,” he says with a fanged smile, “I’ve got you right where I want you.”

~*~

Somewhere in the universe, a player watches a video on their comm.

“Heyyy, everybody!”

A redstone tutorial from Tango Tek, of Hermitcraft- but it’s unlike any tutorial he or anyone else has ever published, titled ‘Hels Portal Tutorial.’

“So, this is a bit different for me. Long story short, I’m originally from a world called Hels. It’s like, a super secret hidden world where normal portals don’t work? And it’s filled with doppelgängers of every other player in existence. Yeah, probably even you, watching this video right now.”

The video has already been viewed millions of times since it was uploaded. Word is spreading through the multi-net like wildfire as experts in data analysis debate the validity of its claims.

“I know it sounds hard to believe. So uh, I’d like to present: counterparts Jimmy and Timmy! Say hi, guys.”

Two more players enter the frame; two avians, one black and one gold. It’s immediately apparent upon first glance that, despite a few key differences, they were cut from the same cloth. They both wave shyly at the camera before it pans back.

“Uh, bit of a disclaimer; Hels players can be pretty intense, alright. And- and not all of them are interested in becoming better people. But if you give them a chance, I- I think there’s a whole lotta good to be done.”

Here’s the part that’s caused a lot of discourse. Do all players have a responsibility to seek out these so-called counterparts? Why would they be locked in a prison if they weren’t meant to stay there?

“Remember, your comm won’t work there. Just don’t set your spawn, okay, so if you die, you’ll end up back in whatever world you left. I- I don’t wanna be responsible for anyone gettin’ stranded, alright. Portal at your own risk.”

Though some can’t deny the intrigue. It’s a fascinating concept, after all. To see yourself reflected in another being. The curiosity alone is enough for some players, while others respond to the moral obligation. The desire to make things right.

“So uh, with that, let’s- let’s get to building. Here’s a list of all the materials you’ll need…”

All over the universe, players pause the video.

~*~

Somewhere in the universe, a player joins a world. 

The first world.

The player has been here many times before over its long life. It’s well familiar with the spawn town; a massive medieval village that sprawls for thousands of blocks in every direction, overlooked by a castle on the mountain. The build is humble, comprised mainly of cobblestone and oak wood variants, painstakingly detailed with plain glass windows and red wool banners. A fossil of a bygone era.

Looking around with eyes of white light and a permanent smile, the player notes the distinct lack of a gamer tag. Its target isn’t here. Rising into the air, it leaves the village behind in an instant.

As it travels through the world, the player passes countless unique areas, each one another step in the evolution of building. Sleek modern cityscapes with towers of concrete and glass. Futuristic quartz utopias. Oceans full of pirate ships and krakens. Cozy forest cottages. Zoos filled with a combination of captured mobs and hand-crafted animals. Whimsical copper airships. Fantasy lands of mountains and dragons. Haunted mansions. Endless redstone farms and contraptions, fine-tuned over rows and rows of previous models. Entire custom biomes.

The player doesn’t stop to admire any of the builds. It’s seen them all before.

It keeps flying until the builds start to peter out as the world’s generation stutters, creating ever stranger landscapes. Chunk errors and floating islands, infinitely falling sand. There are few builds here. Small huts for a night’s sleep, denoting a more nomadic lifestyle. It follows the trail until it can’t go any farther, arriving at its destination.

The far lands.

Walls of stone stretch all the way up to build height, whereupon they flatten out and transition to dirt, peppered with trees. The cliff face is completely smooth, carved out into great tunnels in a nonsensical pattern.

There’s a familiar gamer tag floating inside. Another player. It slowly sinks down to meet him, hanging motionless in the air before the mouth of the tunnel. The other player is leaned back against the slope of stone, his arms behind his head. He’s not at all surprised by its presence, not even turning to look at it. Brown haired and blue eyed, he has a plain face.

The first face.

“Hello, Adam,” Steve says.

He’s the only person who calls it that, anymore. 

Even though it hasn’t spoken, Steve inclines his head. “Sorry,” he amends. “Herobrine. I take it you know about the universe’s little experiment?”

Even now, after all these years, Herobrine envies Steve’s connection to the universe. He achieved this through enlightenment. He left his worldly possessions behind and communed with the universe for lifetimes, tasting it, talking to it, reading its code.

Herobrine connected to the universe like a virus. It tore through the universe’s skin and entered the datastream through a glitched end portal, traveling in the realm between worlds. It left its physical body behind and fused itself with the universe’s code, corrupting it, consuming it, but never truly becoming it.

W̶̠̮͓͍͕̰͂̌̄͜͝͝⍑̷͔̪͇̀͊̈́̍͝͝͝ͅᔑ̶̢̧̩̙̗̉̇͝ℸ̴̢͚̟̣͈̏̄̎́͜ ̸̺͙͎̤̘̼͂͊̔̐̕ ̵̯̖͍̙̮͒̋̄̇̆ ̸̛̤̗̦̃̂̓̀̋͘リ̷̧͚̣̲͕̑̈́͛͒̊?̶̛̫͍̗͐͐̇?̸͈̯̻̦͍̰̒̅͗̄̒ͅ∴̴̨̞̰̼͈̄̀̈̉͌͐̕?̷͚̻̋̋̄͌ Herobrine asks.

Steve knits his brows together. “The universe is about to become a much more confusing place. With the firewall down and word starting to spread through the multi-net, players will be making portals in and out of Hels at an exponential rate.” He finally turns his head to look at Herobrine. “Hels could really use its admin back.”

Herobrine stares back impassively. I̵͕̘̻͓̅ ̶͉̙̰̣͝ᒲ̶̦͙̆̔̀͒́́ᔑ̷̲̹̓̋͋↸̴͔̮̤̻̋ᒷ̶̛͎̬̃̿̂ ̴̙̂̓̾̓̾̈͝ᒲ̷͓̀́͛̉|̸̢́̐̕|̷̡̙͔̺̜͂͆ ̷̛͈͇̯̬̈́̿̐͝ᓵ̸̡̂̌⍑̸̖̹͛̉̄͌̀͝?̵̛̞͇̯͕͌̉̓̔?̴̙́̌͆̕╎̴̣̠̹̙͙̙̐̔̏̿͝͝ᓵ̷̥̱͕̹̔̓͛̀̓̀ᒷ̸̦͔̟̈́.̵̪̩̬̖̝͙̙̿̊̓

“Very well.” Steve pauses for a moment, listening to the universe. “From now on, new players won’t be split into their counterparts anymore. They’ll be left whole.” He smiles. “The first one just spawned, actually. Her name is Alex.”

I̷̧̋͆͘ ̶̳̈̊̇ꖌ̶̨̛̦̤̲̰̩̀̇͊͑͘͜リ̵̢̭͓̞̙̓?̶̛͙͎͔͂̒͂̔?̶̼̹̐̀͜͜∴̶͙͍͊͂͠.̸͇̤̳̇͐̈́ Herobrine says. That’s why it’s here.

“The universe isn’t sure how this will go,” Steve continues casually. “She could turn out to be more dangerous, more powerful than any other player in existence. Or she could turn out perfectly fine.” He shrugs. “It won’t spawn any more until it knows for sure.”

Herobrine tilts its head.

“No, no, not yet,” Steve warns. “We have to let her grow up like any normal player. No meddling. But once she’s ready for inter-world travel, we can go meet her.”

Herobrine doesn’t move.

Steve reads its silence clearly. Letting out a good-natured sigh, he slowly gets to his feet, popping stiff joints with a groan. “You sure you want to do this?” he asks, equipping a diamond sword. “Took you decades to respawn after our last battle.”

He’s the only person who is able to kill it. But even so, Herobrine has never feared its counterpart.

“Alright, old friend,” Steve says, cracking a grin. He’s never feared Herobrine, either.

And for all their differences, neither of them have ever feared death.

~*~

Somewhere in Double Life, two soulmates sit under a tree.

They’re nestled against one of the big oaks in their wheat field, Tango leaning back against Jimmy’s chest. His arms and wings are draped loosely around Tango, chin resting atop his head, unflinching from the blaze rods lazily swirling around him.

“Y’know,” Jimmy says softly, “you don’t have to do it right now. You can- we got plenty of time.”

“No, no,” Tango murmurs in his raspy morning voice. “I’m ready.”

It’s early- earlier than Tango’s usually awake, but as soon as he opened his eyes this morning, he knew today was the day. The sun is just cresting above the rolling hills that stretch beyond the ranch, washing everything in gold. Wheat sways gently in the warm breeze. Animals call to each other from the pastures, a comfortable soundtrack to a gorgeous day.

Sunlight filters through the leaves above them, casting dappled shadows across Tango’s face. It’s as peaceful a moment as he’s ever known. He closes his eyes, takes a slow, deep breath, and wraps one of his hands around the shackle on his other wrist.

A small, controlled flame ignites in his palm. Metal heats up against his skin. After a couple seconds, he feels it soften in his grasp, pooling into liquid iron that drips onto the grass beneath him. He exhales, and the cuff falls away. 

Tango repeats the process on the other side before he opens his eyes, and when he sees his hands unshackled for the first time in ten years, his first thought is of how much lighter they feel.

(He hadn’t realized just how much weight he was carrying.)

Tears spring to his eyes unbidden, a wave of emotions crashing over him; relief and happiness, of course, but there’s a little apprehension, too- the fear of the unknown waters he’s treading, the new horizon that lays before him.

Healing. True healing, not hiding.

Tango flicks the last drops of molten iron from his clawed fingertips, managing a hoarse laugh. “Well, that was easy.”

Jimmy’s embrace tightens around him, his head dropping down to kiss Tango on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispers.

The love pouring through their soulbond is almost overwhelming. Tango turns his face up to catch Jimmy’s lips. “Us,” he corrects Jimmy, pulling back to look at him. “I mean, I don’t- I couldn’t have done any of this without you, I don’t think. So, you know.”

Jimmy hums, settling again. “We’re good for somethin’,” he jokes.

Tango sighs happily, looking out over the ranch. He can scarcely believe he gets to have this, after so much pain and turmoil. This simple life, of love and peace and freedom. The sky set to burst above them. He knows darkness will always creep back into the corners, and there are still hard days ahead, but that fear doesn’t control him anymore. This journey has changed him forever, and he’s never going back. He’d rather stay here, with his soulmate, basking in the light.

The first light of a new day, a new life.

“Yeah,” Tango says, smiling. “We’re good for something.”

~*~

This must be the end, then.

The end of one story, yes. But the start of many others. This is how it’s always been. You know as well as I do, L⚍リᔑ∷.

I still don’t get it.

What?

Why would the universe switch them? If they were meant to be somewhere else, why not begin there? Does the universe not design all worlds and all players?

Does the universe not praise players for slaying the dragon in her nest and calling it freedom?

Take care, Aᑑ⚍ᔑ. There is a player with us.

I see them. They’ve reached a higher level now.

You think they’re ready for this story?

That’s why they’re here, isn’t it?

Tell them, then.

You know the universe as light, and warmth, and love. But it is also darkness, and cold, and hate. It is endless patience and it is senseless cruelty. It is the truth and it is the lie. It is the leap and it is the fall. It is the lamb and it is the wolf whose teeth have sunk into wool, red blood on white snow. It is the sword against the shield. It is life and death, good and evil, and everything in between. It is constantly evolving, tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code-

That’s an old story. They’ve heard it.

It’s the same story. They haven’t heard it this way.

Very well then.

There was a time when the universe loved its players so much, it sought to protect them from themselves. It removed all their darkness, their cruelty, their hatred, and locked it away into separate beings, in a world between realms they could not escape from, so the players could be free of them.

Those are the Hᒷꖎᓭ.

Yes. But this player cannot read that thought. This player knows them as counterparts. They are also known as doppelgängers, analogues, doubles, alter egos, equivalents. Clones, copies, shadows. The yin and yang. The same word in different languages.

So what happened?

Players are not as simple as the universe thought. They are not all the same. Some slipped through the cracks, some weathered over time, and some were so full of darkness that the universe could not remove it all. And the Hᒷꖎᓭ no longer fit the definition the universe had given them. And the players evolved beyond the simple divide between good and evil, and so did their counterparts.

So the universe does not love them as much now?

No. It loves them even more.

Why so?

Does the universe not evolve too? Is the universe not always expanding, growing, changing? Dreaming of new colors and new trees and new creatures? It dreams of new ways to play the game, and new players to play it. But it cannot determine what kind of player a player will be. That’s up to them.

They surprised it.

Yes, in a way. It didn’t realize they were ready for a higher level yet. But once it did, it decided to test them.

Why did it choose those two? Surely there are better players in Hᒷꖎᓭ, and worse players outside of it.

There are some things only the universe knows.

Did the players pass?

Yes. It took time, and effort, and sacrifice. It wasn’t easy or straightforward. It was messy. The players did not pass on their own, either, and not on the first try. But they got there eventually.

Different players might’ve done better.

Yes. But this is what the universe chose. And it proved that players are ready to accept their darkness, and that Hᒷꖎᓭ can learn to embrace the light. The universe doesn’t need to protect them anymore, not from themselves and not from each other. Maybe it never did.

So what will it do now?

The universe cannot change the past. But it can amend the future. I imagine new players will be left whole, spawned with all their good and evil, their light and darkness in one.

What will become of Hᒷꖎᓭ?

Hᒷꖎᓭ will always remain. Whether or not the players will depends on them. The first door has been opened, and many will follow.

What was the point of it all?

Do you not see it yet?

No.

Then let me tell you. It’s a story about the dichotomy of good and evil, about strength and weakness, about nature versus nurture. It’s about how every player has a dark side, but some see it as a separate entity while others see it as their shadow, and it’s about the debate of whether one can exist without the other. It’s about having sympathy for the ugliest parts of yourself, and how making peace with them is the only path to true growth. It’s about rejecting predetermined fates and roles and destinies in order to pave your own way, for better or for worse. It’s about how heroes and villains are constructs of their societies and their own expectations, about the double-edged sword of self-hatred, about the two sides of the same coin. It’s a story about mirrors.

I see. That’s quite a good story.

This player seems to think so.

Hah, if you do say so yourself, Aᑑ⚍ᔑ.

Someone has to tell it.

And what would you tell the players now?

I would tell them that their universe is about to become a bigger, wilder, louder place, but that it is beautiful. I would tell them to not be afraid, that the only way forward is to confront the past and embrace it. Some will fail, and some won’t even try, but for every one of them there are countless more who will do better, and that will be enough. I would tell them all players have the capacity for great good or great evil, no matter what world they spawned in. But if they’ve been watching closely, they already know.

And what would the universe say to them?

What it has always said. That hasn’t changed.

Some things never do, I guess. Through it all, it is the same game. All that changes is how they play it.

Now you’re getting it.

I’ve grown quite fond of those players. What will become of them now?

We’ll just have to watch, as always.

And this player?

They will return to their game. There will be more stories, I’m sure. In the meantime, I’ll tell them to dream of a world where love and hatred are twins, not opposites. A world where heroes and villains can look the same, based on where you’re standing. A world where happiness is fought for and held onto as fiercely as vengeance, where love can be a blessing and a curse, where soulmates are chosen, not designed.

Dream of a world where a canary falls in love with the coal mine.

And if you listen, you can hear it sing.

H𝙹リᒷ||, ||𝙹⚍'∷ᒷ ⎓ᔑᒲ╎ꖎ╎ᔑ∷, ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ ᒲ|| ᒲ╎∷∷𝙹∷ ||ᒷᔑ∷ᓭ ᔑ⊣𝙹

╎↸ᒷᔑꖎ╎ᓭᒲ ᓭ╎ℸ ̣ ᓭ ╎リ !¡∷╎ᓭ𝙹リ, ᓵ⍑╎⍊ᔑꖎ∷|| ⎓ᒷꖎꖎ 𝙹リ ╎ℸ ̣ ᓭ ᓭ∴𝙹∷↸

╎リリ𝙹ᓵᒷリᓵᒷ ↸╎ᒷ↸ ᓭᓵ∷ᒷᔑᒲ╎リ⊣, ⍑𝙹リᒷ|| ᔑᓭꖌ ᒲᒷ, ╎ ᓭ⍑𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ꖌリ𝙹∴

╎ ᓭꖎ╎ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ↸ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ⎓∷𝙹ᒲ ᒷ↸ᒷリ, ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣  ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᓭ╎ℸ ̣  𝙹⚍ℸ ̣ ᓭ╎↸ᒷ ||𝙹⚍∷ ↸𝙹𝙹∷

[decodedlvr]

~ never did this before | virgin!Eddie Munson x virgin! Thick!Fem Reader \\ modern au

This story is based off the song Wet Dreamz by Jcole **recommend listening to it first to understand the story// can be perceived/read regardless if you are a poc; as I am mixed ♡ [descriptions of reader having tan skin and brown eyes; so it meets in the middle if you are a poc or not]

• Summary: after weeks of flirting and crushing on each other, you finally pop a serious question into your bestfriend Eddie’s head, and he has a hard time providing you with an honest answer // this is more like a rom com

• Warnings: MDNI; smut (not too explicitly) fluff, both kinda experienced? soft Eddie, cocky Eddie, sassy reader, brief mentions of smoking and drinking, he’s a little bit of a perv, masturbation, 69, protected piv, premature ejaculation, heavy petting, grinding, confessions, slight insecure thoughts? (both are 18+) word count :3.4k //sry 4 errors

Eddie’s Pov

Calculus. The last class of the day. My favorite class overall.

There she sat, giggling on her phone, showing me silly photos she took of her dog Skittle, the sun shining just right on her honey toned tanned skin, hair laying just as perfect as ever in that simple, claw clip. Curls and wavy bangs sectioned to shape her face, brown eyes that matched mine and oh those glossy lips..

I wanna kiss you so fucking bad baby.

Her outfit of the day, that new pink and black checkered shirt she got at the mall that I drove her to.

It’s so tight on you sweetheart, your tits look beautiful today.

White Reeboks as I have, but very much cleaner…

Those 100% perfectly stretchy, acid wash jeans you wear every week that fit your ass so fucking bad.. fuck don’t bend over.. don’t—

“Eddie? what’s wrong with you?”

Fuck— didn’t realize the moan that I slipped out when she dropped her phone, she cracked it..but all I could focus on were the back of her thighs when she bent over

“Sorry uh- I think I’m just sore from carrying those amps last night”, he says now rubbing his not sore bicep with a pout

Lie.

“Oh babe I’m sorry, come by later and I can rub it out for you” she replies

Why the fuck would you say that to me right now—

“Oh yeah? You’d just love to get your hands on me always huh sweetheart? ” leaning back in my seat, with a cocky smile

You blush and shove my arm playfully “you’re so stupid, you know what I meant”

——

She’s been like this for the past month, after Harringtons party. Smoking and drinking under that patio umbrella, away from everyone else. Laughing, holding on to each other for dear life. I tell her jokes, she ugly laughs. I love her laugh, it’s not fake it’s genuine like her.

We met at the drink table, both preferring whiskey over the red shit they put out.

We talked about our intrests, I was very suprised and impressed with how she carried herself. How she talked about herself. How she sat comfortably on my lap; as if we knew each other for forever.

Obviously her thick hips in that royal blue, tacky dress she wore caught my attention first

It takes a certain kinda person to make me laugh but she.. she was probably the most funniest and beautiful fucking girl I’ve never seen. A few beauty marks as she would call it, scattered down her neck and arms. Eyelashes so dark she could always pass on the mascara, the sweet charm and sass she had to her.. she was something different.

She was fresh to town and it was relief to meet someone new. Similar childhood experiences, divorced parents but her dad stopped reaching out to them. Her mom was just a bitch to her. Very narcissistic person but, she had her kind moments. She definitely wasn’t the worse mother I’ve ever heard of.

All of that lead to a heavy make out session in the bathroom.

Sitting at the edge of the toilet, her scratching the back of my head with those sharp coffin shaped nails, me squeezing the fat of her ass on my lap. Hell, I was surprised how into this she was.. considering I’ve only kissed two girls in my life.

Sure I’ve watched my fair share of porn, visited sex stores, took a few notes; even got a handy under the bleachers last year from Carol. She forgot to pay for the weed I gave her, she offered, why not.

“Oh yeah, what’s your name again?” I ask kissing down her neck

“Y/N, but you can call me anything you want right now” she whimpers at the feeling of me nipping her throat

-“fuck you’re a r-really good kisser”

“-could say the same about you sweetheart” feeling the roll of her heat over my already strained dick.

I wonder how many guys she’s done this with

“Sorry, I don’t usually do this but, there’s just something so sexy about you”—

Biggest fucking ego boot ever.

“Fuck baby, if you keep talkin to me like that I’m gonna bust”

“Awe, am I making you feel some typa way Eddie?” She smirks looking down at me

“You know you are”

—

Unfortunately that ended quicker than it started, Robin got too hungover and needed our space.

She told me her classes and we exchanged numbers.

After that we talked everyday on FaceTime after getting home from school. I show her a new guitar riff and she shows me the new necklaces or shirts she ordered.

Sometimes she’d forget she was on camera and changed out of her bra a few times.

Hey, couldn’t help but to look come on, I am just a man

I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve fucked myself to that imagine every morning.. and evening and night..

Slept on the phone together, hung out at lunch together.

I only ever seen her at lunch other than at the end of the day in Mrs. Wilson’s calculus class. Bringing us back to now

——

“Mr. Munson are you done chatting now?” Wilson knocks me out of my trance

“Sorry bout that, yes ma’am” giving her a thumbs up sitting back up straight as she rolls her eyes subtly.

You slide me note. Folded up, in blue highlighted letters

You ever have sex before? Circle Yes or No ♡

fuck—we never even discuss stuff like that! how haven’t we? Don’t embarrass yourself man

Course I have, why? what’s got you so curious? ;)

I watch her look away quickly, gulping when she covers the paper to respond back

Well.. you’re cute and shit & was wondering if you wanna come over friday..? My parents have been gone all week and..we can hang or do whatever.. ♡

Did she wanna fuck? I hope so —wait you’re a virgin idiot, wait is she? probably not

I’m already there babe ;)

I reply with an easy smile, hiding the fact I’m in a state of panic

Good.. and uh bring those handcuffs on your wall too.. ♡

No way she’s a virgin talking like that

She rushes outta the classroom at the bell, turning back with a wink

Holy shit I gotta talk to Harrington.

“-and that’s what I’m saying dude, just sweet talk her, treat her like a princess, rub her in all the right places”—

“Okay but what ARE those places? I know her like tits and shit.. and well under her panties but what does it feel like? Ya know putting in it? What if I cum too fast and she laughs or runs away and never talks to me again..”—

I’ve been pacing back in forth in Family Video, loud where all the customers could hear. Definitely loud enough for Robin to upchuck her lunch

“No Eddie- just, come back here— Rob? watch the front please?” Steve grabs me by the shoulder making a bee line to the stock room

Sitting on the empty table still trying to gather my thoughts of Steve’s advice. “Well?” I rush out

“Damn man let me sit down first” he scoffs pulling a chair over to me

“Alright, you wanna know what inside a vagina feels like right?”

“Jesus, can you just say pussy or some shit”

“Same thing” he glared

“Okay well it’s not really sexy to just say vagina-

-“god Eddie, do you wanna know or not?” I can tell I’m testing his patience, I shut my lips, nodding eagerly

“Okay, so It’s like this- well like wet and really, really warm, almost like hot bath around your dick or a tight hug”—

“Wow, a hot bath thanks for the analogy Steve, I’ll make sure to take one when I get home”

He deadpans at me. “You asked me and I’m telling you, it’s hard to really explain other than a tight, wet warm hug. Oh!” he snaps his finger”-and sometimes it’ll tighten around your cock when she’s about to cum and holy shit dude— you better hold your load because the first time I had sex, it lasted about 10 seconds” My eyes widen

“WHAT!?” I shout before him shushing me “King Steve was a minute man?”— I joke

“Hey I said at first, when you get used to having sex your stamina gets better and for me personally”— he leans in “I can last approximately 45 minutes and 27 seconds” he sits back proudly

Cocky bastard.

Shit.

How long will I last? Will jerking off more boost my stamina?

——

Since that afternoon I did as much research as a I could, making a DIY sponge fleshlight.

That was a fail, got carpet burn.

Even bought condoms from the corner store, didnt know what size i was so, i grabbed all 4 boxes

Practicing my stroke game, using my pillow as a hole.

Down. Glide. Up. Down. Guide up.

Ow, fuck, cramp, cramp

This shits hard. My back hurts.

Throwing away the 8th used condom of the day, tossing myself in my desk chair, forehead sweaty, wrists throbbing; hearing my phone go off

FaceTime from Crush🖤

“Ah, fuck”— grabbing a shirt, wiping off the excess sweat off my skin, putting my pants back on, setting the phone up on my night stand, grabbing the guitar quickly setting it on my lap— “Hey! Sweetheart, what’s up, what are you up to?”

“I could ask you the same thing why is your face so red?” She asks giggling, laying on her tummy, tits spilling out , kicking her socked feet from behind

“Just took a hot shower is all”

“But your hairs not wet?” you give me a suspicious look, “Oh yeah, I just tied it up..sooo still want me over tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah! I picked up cookie dough the edible kind because I know you like that anddddd”- she reaches over her phone to grab something—“I rented whole stab franchise for a throwback”- showing me her laptop screen

“Well, that sounds like a party to me”

“You got that right..” She replies, biting her lip as if I didn’t notice,- “Anywaysss, just calling to remind you, see you tomorrow im tired, goodnight dummy *mwah*

She always ends our calls with a kiss on screen

Fuck I’m hard again

“Can’t wait sweetheart, sweet dreams” ending the call, looking down at my bulge

Welp, gotta jerk off again

Friday. THE day I might lose my virginity to the sexiest girl in school. My best friend.

I wake up earlier than usual, do my morning ritual, a joint. My nerves making me shower twice.

Should I shave?

Would she care?

A little trim wouldn’t hurt

May or may have not nicked my balls. Not too bad, maybe she won’t notice. Finding my nicest pair of jet black jeans I own, I only wear ‘em for special occasions and a wife beater? Nah that’s too much right? A flannel would help. Yeah. Definitely.

Hey I look kinda good, checking myself out in the mirror

Alright, wallet, keys, condoms, I glance over at the cuffs on the wall. Can’t forget those, stuffing them in my back pocket

—

My palms are sweaty, fuck even my ass is sweating.. 3 cigarettes already in, on my way to her house; of course I have a bad fucking hair day today, so I just opted for a low bun.

Before I could even knock, you open the door my jaw already on the floor

“Hi dummy!” You jump giving me a hug, pulling me inside.

What the hell is she wearing

A transparent green knitted, cropped sweater

is that her nipple I see? Those goddamn Nike shorts are doing her a favor—“Someone’s excited to see me?” Kicking off my shoes

“I’m always excited to see you.. also nice hair”

and neck goddamn, what is hell is he wearing you think, already feeling horny from the sight of my neck being so exposed

those jeans are doing his fine ass a favor

fuck I’m wet already

“Come on, already got it all set up for us”

“Lead the way princess” following behind you

I need to bite those fuckin legs.

——

We always sit like this on movie nights. Me against your headboard, back against my chest. I don’t remember how it started but I love it.

“Didn’t David Arquette also play in Spree?”

I squint back at the tv, “Uh yeah yeah he did, he was Kurt’s dad I think”

She replies with a mouthful “omyeah”

My hands have been holding both sides of her hips the whole time, occasionally rubbing them with my thumbs; every time I do it your breath picks up

Something else is about to be up—

“Huh?”

“Did you even hear me? You’ve been zoning out a lot recently”, you say sitting crisscross

“Something on your mind Ed’s?”

Gulp

“No no just— “ sigh

“Yeah, you. You’ve been on my mind.”

She smiles looking down, cocking her head to the side

“Oh yeah? Been thinking about me have you?” She grins

“You have no idea. ”

My breath hitches when you straddle me

Fuck me

“Wanna tell me these thoughts you’ve been having?” she asks twirling a piece of my bang

Remember what Steve said, sweet talk her

“Why don’t I just show you pretty girl”

Her smirk instantly falls, cheeks crimson “shit.. okay”

Running my hand up your thighs firmly, wrapping my arm around your lower back, my free hand pulling your face closer into my lips. “Like that baby?”

Who the fuck are you she thinks

“Fuck, yeah kiss me again”, I stare blankly until my eyes turn to pure lust, pushing her down to her back climbing on top to ease my tongue back into her mouth, my hips grinding into yours, hearing you whimper…

You’d think that’d make me harder but it’s when you grind back into me that did it

“You’re so beautiful you know that baby?.. fuck been missing these lips for weeks..”

“Shit, me too, been needing you so close to my body recently it’s been killin me,” she whines, rubbing her hands down my chest

—“that’s why I asked you to come over, could tell you were feeling me too”

You’re right about that, I mumble sucking your neck,

I’ve practiced giving myself hickies on my arms freshmen year.

Eddie, score

“That tank top Eddie.. t-take off the flannel let me see you? Please?” You ask giving me doe eyes. I sit up eagerly throwing it about, she sits up on her elbows, throwing off her sweater

The goddamn groan I let out

Jesus Christ

You lie back down bashfully covering yourself

A whore being shy huh?

“Whattt? She asks feeling self conscious,

“You’re..fuck.. just let me get a closer look please?” I plead, you nod shyly

Squeezing your breasts hard in my palm, licking my lips, nipping them, kissing them, hearing you gasp “holy shit -

“What??”

I do it again, in combination with my tongue, She doesn’t stop me she moans, making me feel bolder, “ Lemme take these off?” My thumbs already ready to yank your shorts down

You don’t answer

“Hey, it’s just me you know you’re beautiful to me, right?”

“Yes..you can take em off” she whispers

Thinking it’d be hot to yank them down quick like those sex movies

I try it..

“Ow! Fuck what the hell?” She jerks

I didn’t know she had the goddamn drawstring tied. , “Ow..you pout rubbing your hip, “Shit I’m sorry! I’m sorry”

I’m already fucking up, “It’s okay.. it’s just tied” she says undoing them pulling them off herself, holding her hands in her lap

I lean down to kiss both hips as an apology, looking up at you slowly undoing your hands

Cute little hair she has

“Can I um..”

She looks down at me gaining back her confidence, “You wanna eat me don’t you?” My eyes widen, gripping her side, “Yesss.. really bad” but I don’t know how to —

“Can I see you too?” again with that lip bite

“Of course” okay.. here goes nothing whispering to myself , yanking my jeans and all down in one swift motion, staring at the spot on the ceiling

You scoff with the sour look, “Oh my god”

WHAT WHAT WHAT

“You’re packing Eddie”

“Oh..thank fuck, really? I wouldn’t say that but..” I sit back in front of her

“Can I touch it?” You ask still staring at my cock

-..But I wanna taste you.. what if we..you lay on me but backwards..? Like 69?” I recommend

She nods eagerly, nervously but very excited, “Okay.. just don’t look at my asshole.. there’s a spot on it that looks like I didn’t wipe but it’s not what you think! It’s a freckle..”, I chuckle, rubbing your cheek nodding

Laying down flat, you swing your legs over my face

Oh god fuck, “Such a pretty pussy” i mumble

Suck a pretty cock you think

You’re both horny as fuck, both licking on each other immediately —“Jesus fuck!” I shout, hearing and feeling you choke on my dick

“Y/n, y-you done this before?”

“Yeah—“

Damnit.

-“But it was with a guy at my old school, said I was the best head he ever had” , you say rubbing my balls

Hot.

Okay Eddie do what feels right

so that’s the clit? how cute

Bringing my lips around your nub, licking you, tasting you, “Oh god why do you taste so good, you smell so..sweet?”

“Was that a question?” You ask popping my dick outta your mouth

“No, no just the sweetest pussy I’ve never tasted”-

the only pussy I’ve ever tasted

I’ve never smelt anything like this, I think I’m addicted

Flicking my tongue a few time feeling you react in a high pitched moan, sucking and massaging it lightly, my eyes flutter spotting your ass hole winking at me

“Holy shit” she’s pretty everywhere

“What?”

“You have such a pretty ass” blurting out

“Eddie! I told you not to look!” She whines trying to climb off, “Shut up I do what I want”saying firmly, pulling you back down by your thighs; sticking my pointer finger in your cunt,

so that’s the squeeze Steve was talking about

“Ohmyg— fuckk yes please” she vibrates around me, a guttural moan purging from my throat, curling my finger like they said —

“Oh! Fuck yes keep doing that Eddie baby please”—

“I am, I am baby you just suck my dick”—

Holy shit who am I—

“-Eddie I think I’m gonna cum yep, I’m gonna cum..”—

“Wait really?”

“Yes!”

“Really?” Asking again “YES EDDIE SHUT UP AND KEEP GOING, FUCK”—

Thrusting faster, licking faster I feel your wetness roll down and down into my mouth instantly making me cum in yours

“Fuck baby like that, fuck did you..just swallow?—“ I ask but you proceed to keep sucking-“OKAY OKAY, stop, s-shit!”

Pleading trying to stop you from overstimulating me further, “Shit.. sweetheart, that dude was right, that was the best head I’ve ever got”

The only head I’ve ever got

She lays back down beside me with a large grin,” Was that your first time getting head? You came so fast for me”

Lie.

Not replying I get up, finding the condom in my Jean pocket, “What’re ya doing?” You ask with a questioned expression, “Condom?” I hold up “Oh, oh yeah yeah right duh”—

Fuck I forgot with which way it goes on— got it

Turning back to you, cock still hard, nudging your core

You give me a small smile, watching me hesitantly about to slip my tip in

“Wait! Wait!”-

“What? Sorry, I didn’t ask”—

“Eddie I need to tell you something..”

“Yeah?”

“I can tell you definitely know what you’re doing but I just.. be gentle because I’ve never done this before..”

never done this before, never done this before

I stare like a deer in headlights, the weight off my shoulders lifted. I laugh sarcastically to myself , “That’s, well.. I should probably tell you I’ve never done it either.. like ima”—

“Virgin too?”

“Yeah, surprise?” feeling embarrassed, “How did I not know that? We tell each other everything” shrugging, “Not sure, but I’m glad you told me before I stuck ya”

“Ew don’t say stuck me weirdo”

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing at all, I had to ask Steve for advice.. I figured you would know more I mean since you wanted my handcuffs”-, you bite your lip, head shaking

“I said that because, I figured you’d know how to use em”

“There actually just for decoration sweetheart, looked kinda metal”, we laugh in awe with each other , “But here we are..” I say biting the skin on my lip—

“Yeah here we are” you look back up at me, hopeful, “Do you wanna stop?”

“No..do you wanna stop?”

“Nah, been hoping you’d be my first actually”, you blush at my statement pulling me down for a deep kiss , “Let’s do it..”

“..but what if I cum too fast? that would be humiliating”—

- “I understand how it works.. don’t feel bad if you do, I promise I won’t laugh Ed’s” she squeezes my hand lovingly

My heart is erect

I nod, looking over all of you again, spreading your thighs a little wider, “I’ll go slow”

Furrowing my brows in consentration, slipping my tip in, surprisingly not easy mother fuck—

“Holy fuck you’re so-

“Tight? I know I have a hard time fingering my self as is”

“Why would you tell me that at this very second,” I try not to laugh, holding my shit together, “that’s so hot by the way,” bottoming you out, we gasp in sync

“Oh god”-

“What?”

“Holy god”—

“What!?? You alright?” She asks , “I’m about to cum already”—

“I told you, it’s okay”

“I know but that’s so embarrassing”

You clench around me on purpose, suddenly your eyes widen, feeling a warmth from inside, while also hearing me grunt almost in pain above you

Silence.

“Im so sorry fuck,” pulling out, shocked at how full my condom is, “Did you cum?”, she scrunches her nose, “No silly”

“But you squeezed me?”

“Yeah but, I didn’t have an orgasm”

Fucking Steve

-“But Steve said when a girl cums she clenchs around us” explaining further—

“First off, I’m gonna need you to not take advice from Steve and second, I mean according to my girlfriends we do.. it’s like a few squeezes but apparently we really squeeze for a long time when we do cum? Maybe even shake? I’m not sure but I think I’d know when I felt it”

Well shit

He looks like a sad puppy this won’t do you think

“But hey, we can try again right? Don’t be embarrassed if anything it’s kinda hot”

“Really?”

“I mean yeah, I made you cum in under like 1 second, biggest ego boot ever” you lighten the mood, nudging my shoulder smiling at me, pulling me for another kiss, “Don’t ever tell anyone that” holding my forehead to yours

You smirk, holding your pinky up “I promise”, Interlocking mine, noticing your body shifted closer, staring at your lips, “Let me try again Sweetheart” your eyes also on mine, nodding, crawling back to you, chasing your touch, taking each others breath—

Was that a car door??

“Is someone here?”

“Honey we’re home!”

FUCK, not now!!

(again recommend you listen to Wet dreamz by Jcole; it’s a bop)

reblogs appreciated // this was fun. let me know your thoughts? I do realize the smut was kinda rushed? Should there be a part 2? Suggestions? Comments? Feel like I should have kept going for them to restart again but I dunno🤷🏽‍♀️

[thegnomelord]

for some comfort for hound:

with makarov he would shower in record time under cold water, harshly scrubbing away blood when makarov wanted him clean.

not long after being rescued price notices this, how quickly you wash yourself and, if you let him, when he touches your skin it’s cold to the touch afterwards. so price decides to spoil you like a pampered poodle and not like the fighting dog you are were.

he either draws you a bath or joins you in the shower, making sure the water is warm as price washes you, lathering your body with frothy soap, gently wiping away grime on your body and tracing all your new scars even lighter. eventually he rinses you off and massages shampoo into your hair, fingers scratching across your scalp and your guard begins to drop, body relaxing slightly and when you get out you even let price dry you off. you crawl into bed and price’s heart feels like breaking when he tucks you into his side and you hold onto him like he’ll disappear through your fingers, but he doesn’t plan on going anywhere

HFIEUDHFBKSUDEJ y'all are just putting more and more worms into me brain with these ideas! God I am so stealing this idea, just Hound getting to feel some comfort for once.

Idk where this would be in the timeline, maybe after Hound has gotten away from Makarov for good or at some point during rehab where he's getting better but before Makarov comes to take his dog back

CW: NSFW nonsexual nudity, fluff, me rambling a bit, very rough

With Makarov it was always a question how he wanted you. Sometimes he wanted you to take him as you were, blood drying and cracking along your skin, your clothes uncomfortably sticking to your body from how drenched they are in crimson. Other times he wouldn't let a single drop of it touch him, and you'd be allowed to wash yourself for as long as it took him to fully disrobe, leading to you developing the habit of scrubbing your skin raw under cold water to save time.

You've grown used to it, it's one of the few constants in your life. You bite back a scathing word when Price touches your cold skin, seemingly not pleased with how cold your skin is. "Come here son." His voice is soft, calloused hand even softer as it wraps loosely around your wrist, tugging you along to the bathroom.

You know you have to resist, your should resist— your muscles tense beneath your skin, heart beating loud and fast against your ribs, the violence in your skull starting to gnaw on your brain — but something stops you, wraps around your mind like a heavy blanket and you don't notice how you let him disrobe you, watching him dumbly as he fills the tub with soapy water.

Your shoulders hunch as you sit in the tub. The warm water makes your skin prickle with disgust. Your eyes close when his hands rub gentle circles into your back, lightning rushing down your spine when the sponge makes contact with your skin. But you force yourself to weather this, to endure; god, when was the last time you felt warm water on you?

"What's on your mind lad?" Price's voice rumbles in your ears like the purr of some large cat. "You're pouting."

You grit your teeth, unable to look at him so you watch the soap bubbles in the water pop. "I am not pouting." You growl, your lip twitching to bare your teeth, but a few more swipes of the sponge along your spine makes your lips fall in a frown.

"sure you're not." Price chuckles, meticulous as he gently scrubs across your skin, careful not to aggravate the healing wounds. The tension in your shoulders slowly melts away like the first thaw of spring, small shivers racking down your spine. You don't understand why, but every gentle swipe of the sponge makes the collar sitting snuggly around your throat more and more constructive.

No- it's wrong, you're a bad dog for feelingg this way, you can't feel this way, you're not allowed to-

A low and pitiful sound escapes your throat, and just as quickly your attention is grabbed by gentle hands rubbing soap into your hair. "It's alright son." Price's nails scratch your scalp, evenly coating every strand with soap. "I got you." Your hair's been growing out from the cropped hairstyle Makarov likes on you, it makes you cringe. (Cropped like a working dog's ears get cropped or something idk)

You don't notice when you start to lean into his hands, the soothing scratch of his nails and the gentle hold of his palm cradling the back of your skull lulling you into a state of calm. Your eyes close as he pours water down your hair, careful not to get any soap into your eyes.

"Come on, stand up for me, that's a good boy." He praises as you rise, rivulets of water running down your skin. His gentle hands guide you to bend down so he can reach your head, drying your hair and then the rest of you. Something like acid burns in your muscles, your body screaming at you for letting Price touch you when you belong to Makarov. But your ears feel like they're stuffed full of cotton, the warmth of the water lingering in your brain you don't think when he gives you fresh clothes, just mindlessly putting them on and letting him move you where he wants.

A stagnant breath escapes you when you lay down in the bed, the covers and pillow too soft for a thing like you. Your bones feel like jello, you can't even raise your head as you feel Price settle next to you. You don't know what makes you do it, but you reach out with hesitant hands to wrap around his waist, hesitation making you stall as you expect a punishment for overstepping. But when none comes you shuffle closer and curl around him, burying your head into his side. His scent curls in your nose, softer and muskier than the cologne Makarov uses.

Price watches you as you drift off to sleep with your hands around him like he's a giant teddy bear for you. His eyes keep returning to the collar wrapped around your neck, his fingers ghosting around the buckle on your nape as he runs his hand up and down your back. Dark anger curls in his heart at the sight of it, his blood boils to see you like this. He wants you to be the man he knew, the happy, confident Sargent. And sometimes he can still see bits of the old you peek beneath the cover of anger and violence.

But then one little thing will have you careening back into the dog Makarov turned you into.

God. Price feels useless.

[musingsofahufflepuff]

Puppy Eyes

animagus!Mattheo Riddle x gn!reader; fluff

summary: your boyfriend suckered you into becoming an animagus with him, and knowing him it was probably to cause mischief. but surrounded by the night breeze and the stars in his eyes, you know you’d follow him on any adventure.

a/n: 2 published in 2 days? maybe i am magic. i’m kinda obsessed with the idea of animagi and i cannot for the life of me find one where mattheo is one too. so i wrote one. i’m definitely down to write a part 2 or one for theo, just let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in ♡

You were ready to get this damn leaf out of your mouth. A mandrake leaf specifically, which you were planning to use in your pursuit of becoming an animagus. It had been sitting in your mouth for almost an entire month and it wasn’t getting any better. You looked up at your boyfriend, who was in the same predicament, with a scowl.

It had been his idea to start the process of becoming animagi and with those big brown eyes, who were you to say no? So here you were at breakfast trying not to swallow it and heaven forbid having to start over.

“I can’t believe you guys are really going through with it,” Pansy looks between the two of you.

“Riddle just wants to commit crimes and get away with it,” Draco smirks, “impressive he roped (y/n) into it with him though.”

Mattheo rolls his eyes before focusing his attention back on you. The smile he gives you makes your irritability fade away.

♡ ♡ ♡

Before you knew it the month was up and all there was left to do was wait for a lightening storm. Which just so happened to be tonight. Mattheo had kept the phials of potion in the shrieking shack after you had finished putting them together. That’s where you were heading now.

He was sitting cross legged on the floor when you made it inside. His eyes lit up once he saw you, a small smile finding its way onto his lips. “I was a little worried you were going to back out.”

“I thought about it,” you tease and you settle down next to him. “You sure about this?”

“Completely.” He gives a squeeze to your hand before placing the crystal phial in your grasp, the liquid inside now a blood red.

You get out your wand and say the incantation one last time and pause to watch Mattheo take the potion like he was taking a shot of fire whiskey.

With a deep inhale, you follow Mattheo’s lead and tip the potion into your mouth.

The sensation is… odd. Like your bones were all shifting at once. There’s a searing pain everywhere and that double heartbeat you had experienced while performing the incantation over the past week. Moments pass before you open your eyes.

Your perspective of the room has changed drastically, everything towering above you. Right in front of you stands a striking dark wolf, at least double your height. And those chocolate brown eyes are unmistakable.

You aren’t surprised that Mattheo turned out to be a canine. You also aren’t surprised how ethereal he looks. If anything, you were surprised he wasn’t a golden retriever, with his eager to please personality (at least for you) and puppy dog eyes.

You notice his tail wagging wildly behind him which leads you to look behind you and see a fluffy, mocha-colored tail doing similar. While you were mesmerized by your new appendage, Mattheo padded his way over to you and dropped into a laying position to not intimidate you.

Pulling your attention to your boyfriend you see he still has the scar on the bridge of his nose, only now it rests in the middle of his snout. Instinctively, you push your head into his fluffy neck, letting out a sigh when he rests his chin on you. He still smells the same as he normally does, cigarettes and his cologne filling your lungs.

You find yourself migrating between his paws, curling into the soft fur of his chest.

You lay together for a while, the storm still raging on outside the shack. As it sounds like it’s letting up, Mattheo rises on all fours and nods for you to follow him.

The grass is damp beneath your paws and the night sky is now clear above you. It takes a few moments to get used to moving on four legs instead of two, but Mattheo looks to be a natural. Your heart warms watching him run through the grass, apparently having the time of his life.

Finally feeling confident on your legs, you take off in his direction. Seeing you sprinting towards him has his tail moving a million kilos an hour. With a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, he turns and leads you toward the forest. In any other circumstance you’d be a little nervous running off into the forbidden forest, but something about your new form takes the anxiety off your chest.

The forest at night was something otherworldly. Moonlight filtered through the trees, illuminating Mattheo’s fur. You pushed your legs faster to catch up to his longer stride. Finally getting side by side, you take a look at him and the look on his face simultaneously fills your heart with glee and sorrow.

He looks free. More free than you had seen him in your half a decade of knowing him. You desperately want to see him like this all the time.

You don’t immediately realize you’ve stopped running, lost in the happiness radiating off him. Blinking a couple times, you look around at your surroundings. You’re standing at the edge of a small lake, the moonlight sitting peacefully on the surface. To your left is, to your surprise, a unicorn resting in what appears to be its den of sorts.

Wonder in your eyes, you look up to find Mattheo already looking down at you. As you gaze into those brown eyes you adore, you can see the entire universe looking back at you.

♡ ♡ ♡

The next morning finds you in Mattheo’s bed, his limbs tangled in yours. He’s still sleeping and you can’t help but think how gentle he looks like this. You press a kiss to his nose. As his grip tightens around you, you hear him mumble in his sleep laced voice, “I love you, my little fox.”

[bluegiragi]

okay, first of all, absolutely goddamn feral about you, your art, writing, ideas and aus i am chewing on the bars of my cage and foaming at the mouth and screeching incoherent and rolling around on the floor and- ough... anyway

i do have a very self indulgent question, particularly about Monster AU Ghost and Price, but also extending towards the rest of 141 with their involvement

at one point you mentioned that wraiths were rare, and ghost would likely feel pity towards another one

what would happen if they did come across another wraith? especially someone fairly fresh, maybe even young, younger than any of them. is there anything anyone could do to help them? would they help? price seems to know how to handle ghost well enough, and seems like hes been around since ghost's transformation, but how would ghost himself handle seeing someone else go through something like what he did? if he had to, what advice would he give them that he never got?

just been rotting in my brain 😭 ily gira and i hope youre taking care of yourself, thank you so much for the work you put in and share with us 🥺💕

this!! is!! such a good question, anon!!!! I think there's a lot of sides to that kind of situation, especially if it’s a younger person since I hc Ghost as having a massive soft spot for kids.

lots of writing under the cut!!! my braincells were FEASTING.

I think if it was just Ghost and the newly-born wraith, he'd try to mercy-kill it. The circumstances that lead to the creation of a wraith are truly harrowing, and while Simon understands the desire for revenge that burns at the core of every freshly made wraith, he also believes their plight is a kind of torture. In his mind, it would be kind to put one out of their misery. He wouldn't take any pleasure in it - I think overall, it would be a miserable affair for all parties involved.

If Price or any of the others were around, I think they’d try to convince him to take them under his wing so to speak. But while Ghost currently operates decently with his support system, he’s extremely lucky and should be considered the exception to the trend. Price was instrumental in his recovery - years of working under him solidified Price in his subconscious as an authority figure he could trust. When Ghost lost control, he could still rely on instinct - even with his mind fracturing, Price never changed. But not everyone has this kind of person immediately available to them, and it was crucial that Price got to him as soon as he did. What Ghost is now is not what a wraith commonly looks like. Price dragged him back from a brink.

New wraiths are sort of like rabid dogs, with no sense of self preservation. They’d approach every confrontation with the kind of frenzy you’d see in someone fighting for their life. They’d also be basically impossible to immobilize - you’ve seen how Simon goes wispy at times, imagine trying to handcuff a cloud of smoke. If it came down to a situation where any of the 141 were in danger, Ghost wouldn’t hold back. He’d put the other wraith down.

But if Ghost met another wraith who’d survived that first explosion of fury and managed to calm down, AND the 141 were with him, I think he’d try to help. They bring out the best in him.