#that go on for 4 hours and where I feel like I might die the entire time

[simmyfrobby]

What are your top 3 nhl teams with the best vibes?

ooh ok. yea. fun. love this. im going to declare all my biases upfront: im a pens, bruins & wild fan so obviously my nr 1 is:

minny

they have flower. they have kaprizov. they go on homoerotic little holidays together. they have two deweys and one foligno. their captain is pretty and everyone is short. every game is somehow embarrassing. even if they win. especially if they win. 11/10 cant lose.

nr 2: philly

i dont follow them or root for them but i will have nightmares about the dog mask every day for the rest of my life. also they made drysdale come hang out w them during the all star break and that was cute. also the conga line. hardass coach but we stay silly. 9/10 solid vibes.

nr 3: yotes

jason zucker lives there.

[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

[midnight-hotel]

Missing (Alastor x Reader)

My first fic in 4+ years, please go easy on me. This story occurs during and after the final episode of season one. Enjoy and feel free to give feedback!

Coughs racked your body as you struggled to take in a breath of dust polluted air. Pain shot through your undoubtedly broken ribs and back with every cough, blood splattering across your bottom lip and tongue, amplifying the smell of iron in the air. Wrapping an arm around yourself, you stared up at the executioner who was quickly approaching with their broken spear. 

‘Shit- I might actually die here…’ 

They lunged, ready to plunge their holy weapon through your skull. You tried, with all your might, to push off the wall and away from death’s path, failing to notice that it wouldn’t have come to begin with. The next time you looked back at the angel, they were on the ground, covered in their alarmingly golden blood, several holes littering their body. 

Looking around, alarmed, you realised that you had been saved, but by who? Your eyes briefly met with Angel Dust’s, and in that moment, you knew your saviour. With no time to show your gratitude, you spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground and stood, grabbing the angel’s broken weapon to take as your own. If Alastor’s shield could fail, then there was no way you could take a moment to stop and breathe, everyone needed you to keep fighting, as much as you needed them to as well. You could only hope they were all okay. 

It seemed like there was no end to the onslaught of angels. They just kept coming out of that damned doorway into heaven. You were growing tired, injuries burning and only getting worse, but stopping now would only lead to your death and possibly the death of others. Stabbing another Angel through the chest, you kicked their body away, stealing their intact spear to replace the broken one you had left in the corpse. That’s when you heard more commotion from behind and then an irritatingly familiar voice. Turning, you understood why everything had kicked up a gear.

Adam was still alive? But that could only mean…

“Alastor!” His name tore up your throat as you quickly looked up towards the roof of the hotel. Shit- he couldn’t be… but would he have really allowed Adam to get away and rejoin the fight? 

Dropping the spear in your hands, you ran for the hotel, barging in through the doors and rushing up the stairs. You needed to get to him. He couldn’t be dead. 

Third floor.

The whole building began to shake as you reached the third floor. Looking down the stairwell, just barely able to see through the dust, you could make out Dazzle and… was that Vaggie? You contemplated jumping down to help- Dazzle was clearly not about to get up but… you needed to get to Alastor. Vaggie would be fine. So, you continued running up the stairs- cursing yourself for not being in better shape.

Sixth Floor.

The building shook again. ‘Shit- I don’t know if I’m going to make it up there.’ It sounded like the fight had made it to the top of the hotel already. Based on the rubble constantly falling overhead and how the place was quickly falling apart.

Seventh Floor. 

There was a bright light- a flash really- and you think you heard screaming? Fuck it, there had been non stop screaming for the past hour, what was one more? Your vision had hardly cleared from the flashbang when the whole building started to come down. Dropping to the ground, you tucked yourself into a corner, hoping that there was enough structural strength in that section of the building to prevent you from being crushed. The last thing you could recall was the feeling of something falling on top.

Who knows how much time had passed before you were being pulled from the rubble. There was too much going on- too many people talking at once, too many people hovering… you reached out, swatting away the faces that were too close. 

“Alastor… where’s Alastor?” you croaked, trying to push yourself up into a seated position. Your beaten body screamed at you- begging for you to just lay there and rest, but you needed to know if he was okay- needed to know where he was. 

Multiple hands helped you up, but you took no notice of who it was. From who you could see, the makeshift army hadn’t lost too many numbers but everyone was about as fucked up as you were. 

“We… don’t know…” You turned your head to Charlie who looked as if she had been crying. Of course she had… out of everyone, losing anyone would have hit her the hardest. Your heart sank. No one had seen him? Looking around at the others- even Husk shook his head, almost looking worried, before he spoke up. 

“He’s not dead. Not yet anyway. That asshole’s probably hiding away somewhere, butt hurt that he lost to an angel,” he grunted out, subconsciously bringing a hand to his throat. Of course Husk would know if Alastor was gone… he’s bound to him after all. 

“He could be buried under there though- we need to search. He could be dying in there,” You tried to argue, standing only to stumble back into what used to be the hotel. 

Angel Dust grabbed you by the wrist to stop you, pulling you back. “Easy there Doll Face. We’ll find him or he’ll show up. You’re in no state to go digging through what’s left right now.”

It wasn’t fair. How could everyone walk away from the disaster that was once their home while there were still people missing?

That was three weeks ago. As you laid in bed, in a room provided by Lucifer himself to those who had nowhere else to go, you stared up at the ceiling, thinking the last few weeks over. Everyone’s injuries had been healing pretty well, though yours were a tad worse since you had the building come down on top of you. There was a lot of talk about rebuilding the hotel. Plans had been drawn up and Charlie and Lucifer had teamed up to clear the rubble from the original hotel so that everyone could start building fresh when the time was right. 

There was also a lot of talk on what to do about the lost lives. Memorials were being planned out, names of the fallen cannibals taken down in order to properly remember those who sacrificed themselves for the cause, a painting for Pentious and even a statue of some kind. You hadn’t really been listening to that part. You hadn’t listened to much at all really, either constantly lost in thought or bed bound by your injuries. You were getting pretty sick of not being present, physically and mentally.

As you closed your eyes to sleep, something inside the room moved. Eyes snapping back open, you quickly looked to where you saw the movement, just barely catching the tail end of a shadow disappearing from outside your door. Climbing out of bed, you pulled a robe over your bandaged body and quickly exited the room, looking around for whatever it was that you had just seen. There was no one in sight. All the other occupied rooms in the hallway had their doors closed and lights off, so you doubted it was one of them. Right as you were about to head back into the room, you saw it again, rushing around a corner.

Quickly you ran after it, hoping that by the time you reached the corner, it wouldn’t have disappeared. Injuries, mostly healed but still tender, began to ache from the sudden strain as you tried to keep up with the shadow that passed through another door. 

Before you could open it and continue your pursuit, you had to stop and catch your breath. Healing ribs ached and your once punctured lung protested with every deep breath taken. Sucking in one more deep breath, you pushed yourself to open the door, leading out into the courtyard. Pretty big place for just one person to be living in most of the time, but this is the home of the king of hell himself, so you supposed it was fitting.

Subconsciously holding your ribs, you looked around for the shadowy figure again, but in the dark, there was no way you would be able to see it so easily. Without really realising it, you had walked further into the courtyard, admiring the garden in the small amount of light that was available. ‘Lots of roses… surprised there isn’t an apple tree or something.’

“They are quite beautiful aren’t they?” A voice suddenly spoke up, making you jump. Whipping around, wincing as your bruises and stitches stretched, you eyed off the culprit.

“Of course, I much prefer Nerium over roses.”

“Alastor…” Standing before you was the man who had made this last week a living hell. Did he not realise how much sleep you had lost, not knowing if he was okay? How worried you had been? 

“Only because they’re toxic you freak…” you retorted softly, not even sure if he had heard it as you slowly approached him.

“I had a feeling it was your shadow I had seen… You’re the only sonofabitch I know who can do that.”

Stopping just short of the man, you stared up at him with tired eyes. He looked down at you, that stupid grin on his face, like it always was. 

“Now Darling, must you use such language during our happy reunion? Aren’t you happy to see me?” He mocked, before you weakly punched him in the chest.

You hadn’t even realised it but you had started crying sometime after seeing him standing there. “You asshole… Don’t you know how fucking worried I was about you? Where have you been?” You hit him again, hardly bothering him by the looks of it, as he hardly flinched with every hit. He was a lot stronger than you were… but you supposed you didn’t really want to hurt him.

“Why couldn’t you have at least told us you were okay? Why didn’t you show yourself? I was scared you were dying under the hotel or something- after losing Pentious- I don’t know what we would have done if we found you dead as well.”

A hand dropped onto the top of your head, silencing you and you stopped hitting him, dropping your arms and instead, falling forward to rest your head on his chest.

“I apologise for causing you such grief my dear. I must be honest, I had some loose ends I needed to tie off before I could return. If I had been able to inform you of my whereabouts, I would have,” Alastor remarked, a familiar, almost comforting radio static coating every word. 

“Everything is okay now though isn’t it? We’re all alive and we can start rebuilding the hotel much faster now that I’m back! Though I must say, I am honoured that you care so much!”

You shut your eyes, concentrating on the hand that was gently petting your head before pulling back. “You’re a liar. You got hurt. You can fool everyone else as much as you want Al… but you can’t fool me that easily. I’ve known you far too long for that. You got hurt and you should have come to me. Hell, I was coming after you- to help you and I got crushed because of it!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, or blame him for the building falling on top of you, it just happened. You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand and watched as his gaze softened a little while his smile remained. 

“You said it yourself (Y/N), you’ve known me too long, to think I didn’t get away. But, if it’s all the same, I apologise. I truly never meant to frighten you.” Alastor cupped your cheek, gently guiding you to meet his red gaze. “I promise, from now on, I will assure you I am okay before running anymore of my long term errands. Okay?”

Anyone could tell he was still hiding things from you, but what more could you do? You knew him well, but you didn’t think anyone truly knew what was going on inside of Alastors mind other than Alastor himself. 

“Okay…”

“Wonderful Darling. Come now, I do believe we should be getting you back to bed. Those wounds aren’t going to finish healing if you keep running around like a headless chicken.” Spinning you around, he set a hand onto your lower back and started heading you back to your room so that you could get some rest. Typical Alastor… always quick to disturb and dismiss… but at least he was okay. You felt like, as long as he was okay, maybe you could be okay as well.

[ap3arll]

☆loser!ellie hcs pt.6☆

part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5.

warnings: modern au, loser!ellie, fluff, slightly suggestive🔥(not really🤥), established relationship r n ellie, not explicit whether the r is fem or masc, all of these are just self inserts, some silly and random, the last one is a little not.., anyway…i think that’s it? yeah?

note: was feeling silly(literally everyday)lately and cooked these up

daily clicks. don’t buy tlou. read this. and this. help palestine

☆ ellie loves little intimate moments between the two of you, and they don’t even have to be like 😈, just like a kiss, or holding hands, cuddling, doing things together. it just makes her feel closer to you, and love you even more then she already does if that’s eve possible tho??

☆ i’ve talked about this before but, i saw this pin in a thrift store a little while ago and it was an ‘i ❤️ my gf’ pin and i just know if ellie got her fingers on that she’s pinning it onto her bag or jacket and walk around with it high and proud.

☆ ELLIE WOULD DEFINITELY SING ‘my kind of woman’ by Mac deMarco TO YOU. OMGGGGGG do I even need to say anything else she just loves you so very much that she can’t even put in words so she sings you that song and GHDHDBB

☆ ellie loves hugging, like she might actually die if doesn’t get to hug you every time she sees you. it’s really cute too, because like, idk, but i just need her to hug me. and the hug won’t be too tight like a normal hug, but she’ll hold you for so long omgggg. the two of you could be somewhere like a party and she hug you and not let you go until she thinks she’s had enough hugging(literally never) and she’ll just wobble side to side, slowly and, UGHHHHHH

☆ ellie loves to lay on top of you, specifically on your back. like you could be laying down on the bed or the couch and ellie would just lay on top of you. and maybe some humping no because who wrote that👀🤷‍♀️😅.

☆ i feel like ellie loves yelp, she loves to leave a good(not always) review of a restaurant or wherever she was. and she’s just be so brutally honest that it might even come of as rude, but it’s okay because she’s just a girl🎀

☆ definitely sends you these through out the day or just when she’s feelin extra silly and goofy🤪😜😝

☆ i just know ellie loves to play indie horror games. like they’re so fun and scary. and she could be like playing them, with you right next to her and she’ll say “this isn’t even scary” and then next jump scare she screams like she’s being stabbed to death😹

☆ yk that fairy trend on tiktok from like a million years ago, where you pretend to fly like a fairy but like only show your feet. i can 💯% see ellie doing that. like she’ll have a whole ass secret fairy acc and everything. she was a fairy🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️ yk what I’m talking abt??

☆ personally i can see ellie working at like best buy or the home depo, wearing one of those vests with her name on it, and it’s so cutee. like one day you just came in looking for something and went up to ellie for some help and she helps you because obv like your so hot who wouldn’t??? and then would spent an hour explaining something to you…🤤🤤in her soft raspy Ellie voice🥵🥵😼

☆ I feel like Ellie definitely does the dad pose without knowing she’s doing it

☆ ellie definitely film’s little blog of what she is doing and sends them to you. she probably used to make them on snapchat when she was younger and they have her baby voice and she cringes at herself but you find it very cute🫶

☆ prefers tap water over filtered water.

☆ takes screenshots of things she thinks she’s going to need in the future/or needs to remember and just forgets abt them and then complains abt not having any storage on her phone.

☆ HEAR ME OUT OKAY HEAR ME OUTTT🙏🙏🙏 i feel like ellie definitely has some CRAZY hear me outs… like ummm the green and the brown m&ms, uhh wtv her name is, nala, mrs. potts from beauty and the beast(1991)………., this girl also dk her name, the tooth fairy for the rise of the guardians.., lola from the shark tale… dick me down no who said that???😅😰 ANYWAY ummm that was definitely not me speaking… i have more, BUT i going to stop RIGHT here for your own safety..

[moonsvillain]

hotwings au where hawks is a vampire, dabi is a human, and they meet through the vampire equivalent of doordash.

dabi shows up at his door, scruffy and woozy (guy who's been doing this as a full time job and is not coping with the blood loss very well)

hawks is (rightfully) concerned and is ready to cancel his order but dabi immediately disagrees because "that'll fuck up my ratings sooo bad dude don't be an asshole"

hawks: "???"

dabi: "i really need this job man"

hawks kinda shrugs and asks if dabi's up to anything for the next few hours and dabi doesn't have anything going on so hawks invites him in and immediately sits this guy down on his couch to feed him and let him rest for at least four hours so he's not indirectly accused of manslaughter

one must imagine the disposition of an alley cat encountering canned food for the first time: internal battle of mistrust versus yummy treats

dabi goes down kicking and screaming

(the day he goes over to hawks' place it's raining so hard you can barely see and all dabi has is a cheap plastic poncho. hawks' place has heating—he very 'reluctantly' curls up on the couch)

hawks is probably the worst cook on earth but when he tells dabi this, he refuses to let hawks order food for him; dabi would literally rather die than subject another minimum wage worker to the storm outside just to come to this rich asshole's home

which ends up with dabi in hawks' kitchen, making himself a meal

(which, he probably wouldn't usually do this, but the blood loss is kind of getting to him. dabi's decision making has slowly trickled down to the average level it is when he gets drunk)

when he's fed and warm and hawks has forced him to watch two animated movies dabi could not give less of a shit about he finally turns to dabi like

"ok i know we're having a great time but also i really need to eat something. like. you. preferably."

dabi shrugs and offers up his arm, getting progressively more sleepy while hawks finishes his meal before falling asleep pressed against hawks' side

wakes up the next morning with a blanket pulled over him, cheek pressed to a throw pillow with a littleee bit of drool staining the fabric under him

sits up and looks around, armed only with blurry memories of the night before

("did i... sleep with this guy...!?!??!?")

finds a note on the table and unfolds it, trying to figure out what the hell is going on

(lovedddd hanging w u yesterday :P off at work feel free 2 make urself breakfast before u go. U should know where everything is. tip on the counter 4 u. xoxo hawks)

dabi, slightly mortified at the implication he rooted around in this guy's kitchen when he was out of it yesterday finds the tip

it's literally, like, $500 dollars

dabi scribbles down his phone number and sticks it on the fridge with a magnet

(half because he really needed that money and is pleasantly surprised that he got rent money a week earlier than he was expecting)

(half because he might not remember yesterday entirely, but he remembers feeling safe and warm and being addicted to that rare sensation)

hawks is very happy when he gets home, even if dabi isn't there, when he finds his little gift on the fridge

[monstersandmaw]

Male fox spirit x female reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Commission #4 in the list of 5! Thank you for trusting me with your prompt:  female reader saves a dying fox on her way home from work, who turns out to be a fox spirit. I hope you like it!

Contents:  Fox suffers a spinal injury when hit by a car (not the reader’s); there’s some magic; some domestic fluff; oral sex, fingering, him coming on her; and a sweet, fluffy ending.

Wordcount: 4400

Driving rain greeted you full in the face as you shoved open the main doors of the building and burrowed down into your coat, drawing the hood tight around your head in a vain attempt to keep the weather out. Nights like this — cold, damp, and at the tail end of winter before Spring took a proper hold on the land — were truly miserable.

Your fingers were half frozen by the time you had fumbled the keys out of your pocket and clambered into your car, and you fired the old thing up with a hopeful grimace that it would start. It coughed to life and you uttered a little prayer of thanks to whichever gods or spirits out there might be listening. “Now if only you could do something about my pathetic love life as well,” you said to yourself as you reversed out of the parking space and headed towards the main road. “Wouldn’t that be perfect?”

Half an hour outside of town, your headlights flashed over something lying on the side of the road, sprawled halfway across the white line, and you swerved instinctively to avoid it. Mercifully there was nothing coming in the other direction, or you’d have caused a serious accident. Adrenaline spiked through you and you slammed on the brakes.

The flash of golden-red you’d glimpsed had told you it was a fox, but it had had its head raised and it had been looking at you with its eyes flaring yellow in the headlights, but the expression on its face had struck you to the core. It had looked… resigned. Like it knew you were going to hit it. Like it knew it was going to die.

“No,” you said through gritted teeth.

You had some old work gloves in the back of the car from when you’d taken a load of stuff from the garden to the dump a week before, so you put your hazards on and slid out of the driver’s side door and into the worsening storm. You cursed softly, squinting amid the stinging rain as it struck your face like little iron nails in the gusty night. You cleared a space in the trunk for the fox, spreading an old picnic blanket out and grabbing those thick leather gloves. No need to get rabies if the thing bit you before you could get it to an animal clinic in the morning.

You knew it was a stupid thing to do, that cars hit wildlife all the time, and you really weren’t equipped to deal with it, but you couldn’t just leave it there when it had looked so sad; black ears drooping, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

Making your way along the edge of the deserted road with only your phone torch to light the way, you found the spot where the fox was still lying on the asphalt, and crooned softly to it. “Hey there,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s alright. Let me help you out… Let me take you home and see if I can take you to a vet in the morning…”

When your light found its back legs though, your heart sank. They lay limp and slightly twisted to one side. Its back had been broken by the impact with a vehicle.

“Oh baby,” you said, fighting sudden tears. “It’s going to be ok…” you lied.

Was it like with humans? Should it not be moved with a spinal injury? It would probably die anyway, or they’d recommend putting it down. You could at least take it in and keep it warm for its last few hours. When you knelt nearby, it just laid its cheek down on the cold tarmac, defeated, and let out a long, broken whimper.

“I’m going to pick you up, ok? Please don’t bite me. God, this is such a stupid thing to do…”

The fox licked its shiny black nose and just blinked slowly at you.

When it made no move to attack you or snap at you when you got nearer, you scooped it up and marvelled at how light it felt in your arms, its lovely, russet fur damp and matted.

“There,” you said, cradling it in your arms as you carried it back to your car. ‘Him’, not ‘it’, you saw when you set him down on the blanket and stroked his head and neck. He murmured softly, the sound almost a purr, and you swallowed thickly. He was so weak, you wondered if he’d even survive the journey home.

Five cars overtook you as you drove on after that, all beeping and honking their horns and flashing their lights to get you to go faster, but you absolutely would not be bullied into making this last car ride hell for the little, injured fox.

It didn’t take very long to set up a cosy den of blankets and towels in the kitchen by the radiator, and when you were satisfied that it was as comfortable as you could make it — and that any mess would be contained in an area with tile floors — you went back for him. He was still lying on his side, exactly as you’d left him, but his eyes seemed brighter and more focused, and his ears pricked up when you opened the trunk up and gazed down at him.

“Alright?” you asked and he gave a soft snuffle that was half-sneeze and half-chuckle. “You’re awfully perky for someone who’s just gone head-to-head with fast-moving traffic, buddy,” you smiled. “Maybe you will be alright. Ready to go inside?”

You had your gloves on but it didn’t feel like you really needed them, and when you settled him down on the veritable blanket fort inside, he heaved a great sigh and nuzzled his cheek against the fabric with a rumbling moan of contentment.

“You hungry?” you asked. “I don’t have much that’s fox-friendly, but I think there’s some ham in the fridge. Let me check.”

You offered him a saucer of water first, holding his delicate head up as he lapped steadily at it until he’d had his fill, and then you fed him little slivers of cooked ham which he took from your fingers like an absolute gentleman. “Aren't you dainty,” you chuckled as his small, sharp teeth pulled the next piece carefully free of your gloved hand.

He fixed you with such a flat, patronising look that you had to laugh.

The fox flicked an ear and looked away.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you said in a baby voice. “Don’t be grumpy with me, you precious thing… Here, have some more…”

He sneezed, then looked back at you and opened his mouth, head tipped back like a baby bird awaiting a worm.

“You’re not going to take it? You want me to feed you?”

He just stared at you without moving.

“Fine, your highness,” you said. “Anything for you.”

You let the piece drop into his tilted jaws, and then chucked him affectionately under the chin with your finger after he’d chewed and swallowed it.

He caught the leather of the glove’s fingertip in his teeth in a move that was so fast you didn’t even see it, but then tugged gently, insistently.

“I’m not taking this off,” you frowned. “You could have rabies for all I know.”

A tiny, rattling growl, like the world’s tiniest chainsaw, rumbled out of him and he folded his ears back indignantly before pulling on the glove again. Then he let go, his ears pricked about as far forward as he could get them, and he stared expectantly at you.

“No way, friend,” you said, and stood to put the empty ham packet in the rubbish bin.

With your back to the kitchen window, a golden light flooded the room, and for a wild moment, you thought someone was driving straight at the house, headlights blazing. When you whipped around though, you froze. The light was coming from… from the fox.

“The fuck…?”

Your heartbeat started to race, and you weren’t sure if the ringing sound was coming from your own blood pounding in your ears or from something else in the room. The brightness reached such an intense crescendo that you had to look away, shielding your eyes with the crook of your arm until the chiming noise stopped and you lowered it cautiously back down, blinking.

There, standing in the centre of the room, was a man.

You took a step back, fear crashing in on your senses.

You looked around for something you could use as a weapon, but a warm, gentle voice said, “Wait, I won’t hurt you. I swear it.”

Again, you went still, and after taking a steadying breath, you turned to face him again, wide eyed and shaking. “What the hell?”

“Not hell,” he smiled, and you saw that he had warm, tan skin and dark, golden eyes. His hair was a russet colour, and it fell in soft waves around his ears to the nape of his neck. He was slender, not especially tall, and he was quite possibly the most beautiful human being you’d ever laid eyes on. Except… there was still a kind of glow around him, like an aura, and his clothes looked like they belonged at a Ren Faire or something, though the dark green, belted and embroidered tunic was finely tailored and his dark brown boots looked soft and well worn. Tiny points of light, like fireflies, twisted slowly through the air surrounding him before vanishing into a miniature, glittering starburst.

“You’re not human,” you said, despite how crazy it sounded.

“No,” the man replied with a smile. “No, I’m not. But you didn’t know that when you took in an injured fox and cared for him.”

“You’re the fox,” you blurted without thinking.

“I am. Sort of,” he smiled, and you saw that he had perfect, white teeth, with slightly more pointed canines than humans usually did. “I’m a fox spirit. There are all sorts of us, and we’re known by many names all over the world, but the most famous is probably the ‘kitsune’ thanks to modern media.”

“Oh,” you said, only half aware that your vision was darkening around the edges until it was too late. The blood roared again in your ears and your knees went out from under you. The last thing you saw was a flicker of a frown on the man’s — kitsune’s — face before he lunged towards you with hands outstretched, and the world went black.

You stirred and found yourself lying on the sofa in your sitting room, with your feet raised about a foot or so off the seat cushion, and a stranger in green standing over you, holding your legs up by the ankle. The kitsune. The fox spirit.

“Got to say, that’s the first time someone’s actually fainted because of me,” he said with a smile, lowering your legs back down and stepping back. “Are you alright?”

“I fainted?” you asked stupidly, pushing yourself upright and swinging your legs slowly off the sofa and onto the ground. You swayed a little, but didn’t pass out again.

The fox spirit nodded, his lovely hair shining with strands of bronze and copper in the low light of the room, gold eyes glowing as if back-lit. “Thank you for saving me,” he said in a quiet, earnest baritone.

“Did I, though?” you asked, staring openly at him. “I mean… you’re… magic, right? I saw the way your legs were just… Your back was broken…”

“If you’d hit me with your car, or simply left me there for the next driver to do the same, then I wouldn’t have survived. We’re tough, and our magic can heal most things, but not that.”

“Oh.” And then your cheeks went hot and you looked at the carpet, “I’m sorry I baby-talked you like you were an actual animal.”

He laughed; a beautiful, bright sound like dry autumn leaves in clear sunlight. His head tipped a little way back and he looked truly delighted. “You weren’t to know,” he said, still chuckling. “And you’re not the first.”

“Oh,” you said, like a broken record.

From where he stood nearby, the fox spirit smiled at you and then inhaled deeply. “I… should go,” he said, his golden eyes turning a little sad. “Let you return to your life…”

“Wait,” you called from the sofa as he turned away. “What’s your name?”

He cast you a look over his shoulder and the smile he gave you was wry and amused. “You may call me Rowe.”

There was a nuance there that you weren’t understanding, but you told him your name in return, and he inhaled suddenly as if you’d struck him.

“You would part with your name so carelessly?” he whispered, brows pulling together into a frown of utter confusion. “You…” and then his expression cleared and his shoulders dropped. “You have never had dealings with the fae, have you?”

“The… fae?” you stuttered. “Like… fairies?”

The smile that replaced the frown was patient and amused in equal parts, and he sighed and shook his head. “Well, here’s your first lesson. Never tell your true name to a fae.”

Again, all the sound that escaped you was a dull, “Oh.”

He exhaled and approached you, and you tried not to lean back, to lean away from him. This whole night had gone from bad to utterly bizarre in the blink of an eye and you felt a little sick from the whiplash.

To make matters all the more confusing, the strange man knelt before you, sweeping his long, otherworldly tunic out of the way as he sank down onto one knee like he was going to propose or something, and he bowed his auburn head. “You saved my life without thought of debt or repayment, and in recognition of the gift, I give one of my own. I bind your True Name to my heart and hold it there in silence. I may never speak your True Name aloud unless you give me leave so to do. This I swear upon my spirit and my magic and my own True Name.”

The air in the room prickled like static and you had to fight the urge to see if your hair was standing on end. Goosebumps flickered along your arms and legs, and you drew in a shallow breath. “Anything else I should know about?” you asked faintly.

He looked up at you and shrugged. “We’re allergic to iron,” he suggested. “And we’re overly fond of cream and sweet cakes…”

“Sweet cakes,” you repeated thoughtfully, eyes drifting towards the kitchen where you’d bought a strawberry sponge cake just the day before, and an idea half-formed in your head.

Rowe smiled and your heart slipped sideways in your chest for a moment. He was so beautiful it was almost hard to believe he was really there and really standing in front of you. Well, technically he was kneeling like a knight in a fairytale. Fairytale indeed, you thought.

“You don’t have to go,” you whispered.

You were afraid of sounding childish, that if you spoke too loudly, he would think you desperate and would laugh at you, but all he did was tilt his head to the side the way he had done as a fox, and he nodded once. “Alright,” he said.

“I mean, don’t feel like you have to stay either,” you babbled, making a rather pathetic, flapping gesture in front of you with your hands. “I just meant… you’re welcome to stay if you want to. I was going to cook some dinner and watch a movie… eat cake for dessert. I thought… I thought since you’ve had kind of a rough day, you might like to just… chill out with me for a while.”

“May I help you cook?”

“If you… If you’d like to?” you said, standing carefully and holding your hand out to him to encourage him up off the floor.

He slid his warm fingers into your palm, and got to his feet with the grace of a prince, and offered you another smile. “I’d like that very much.”

Rowe stayed with you for a week. You explained that you had to go to work or you’d get fired, and when you came back on the first day, you expected him to have gone, leaving you wondering if the whole thing hadn’t been a hallucination brought on by the combination of a stressful week of work and the awful weather. But no, Rowe was there that evening, curled up as a fox on the impromptu bed you’d made by the radiator while the rain hurled itself at the window pane above him.

“Rowe, you don’t have to sleep on that!” you gasped, dropping your bag by the door and making him startle awake, ears pricked, tail fluffed up in rather adorable alarm.

In a flash of gold light, he was human again, standing beside the bed and smiling at you. “I don’t mind,” he chuckled. “It’s comfortable, and when I’m a fox, I don’t think in quite the same way as I do when I’m in this form. That’s how I got hit by the car in the first place… Please, don’t fret.”

You scowled at him, but relented, and asked him about his day. It seemed he’d spent most of it in his fox form, either out and about in the woods near your house, or sleeping by the warmth of the radiator.

“Didn’t you get bored here?” you asked.

“I could have done the housework for you,” he smirked. “But I thought that might have been an intrusion on your privacy.”

You laughed. “Thanks?”

After three days of sharing your space with him — he sleeping contentedly as a fox on the pile of blankets and you upstairs in your bedroom — you cleared your throat that evening as you sat together on the sofa like old friends, and said, “You know… uh… I… I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come upstairs with me… I don’t want you to feel like you have to sleep down here like you’re a…” you trailed off, flushing hot with awkward embarrassment.

One russet-brown eyebrow climbed a little higher than the other. “… a what?”

“Like you’re some kind of pet… you know…”

Rowe laughed and, as it always did, your heart skipped a beat. His cheeks dimpled and Adam’s apple danced in his exposed throat and you ached. It felt like a long time since someone had touched you; since you’d been held, let alone kissed. He had a beautiful mouth, like he’d been made just to tempt you.

Some of your thoughts must have shown on your face because the laughter died in his throat and he fixed you with a look that was all concern. He murmured the name you’d given him permission to use when it was just the two of you and asked, “What’s wrong? I’m not upset about the animal comment,” he said, reaching for your forearm and trying to reassure you, but you shook your head. “Then what?”

Tears came unbidden to your eyes and you turned away. His hand felt hot through the fabric of your hoodie, but his grip was feather light. It would take nothing at all to pull yourself free, but the thought of it seemed overwhelming. “It’s nothing,” you choked, pressing your lips together and hoping he’d let the matter drop.

He didn’t. His eyes flared bright gold and he scowled at you when you risked a glance at him. “The fae can always taste a lie,” he said with the slightest growl to his voice. “And I can tell you’re hurting. We were laughing, and then… you weren’t. What changed?”

“It’s —”

A short, animal growl echoed in his throat but he bit it back, shut his mouth with a click of teeth, and glared at you.

“Ugh, fine,” you huffed, standing up and pacing across the room. “It’s been a long time since it’s been this easy around someone, ok? And it’s not every day that a handsome, cute guy with a great sense of humour shows genuine interest in me. I just wished, for like half a second, that you might be interested in me, but I get it. You’re not even human. I was nice to you. You probably feel obliged to stay here. You… You should probably go soon anyway.”

His expression turned from concerned to carefully neutral, and he stood. “If that’s the way you feel,” he said, “Then I can leave. But you should know that I’ve had a wonderful time with you, and…” he swallowed and took a breath, “I think you’re beautiful, through and through.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “Don’t bother trying to spare my feelings.”

“We can taste a lie, but we cannot tell one,” he said evenly. “I could not tell you that your clothes are yellow when they are not, nor that the sky is green, nor that you are not beautiful.”

You turned slowly around to look at him, and found him glowing gold again, those points of light spiralling lazily in the air around him. The slight shape of fox ears seemed to be picked out in two, brighter lines above his copper hair and behind him you saw a golden tail swaying back and forth. His eyes blazed bright like burnished bronze, and he was staring directly at you as he spoke.

“Oh.”

“I would very much like to stay with you, and share your bed, and, if you would let me, I would bring you pleasure too.”

Your breath hitched and you licked your lips. He even spoke like he was out of a fairytale. “You mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Ok,” you smiled.

Together, you tidied up the sitting room, and he followed you upstairs, still glowing softly, as if he were utterly contented and couldn’t help it.

Rowe undressed with you in your bedroom, baring a body like polished bronze; all lean lines and languid muscle, and you almost couldn’t look away. He asked if he could shower with you, and gently washed you and touched you, cupping your breasts and trailing his hands down your sides with reverent care. He passed his thumbs over your hardened nipples and kneaded your breasts until you gasped and tipped your head back, eyes closed. He teased between your legs with his fingertips, and then when you turned the shower off, he kissed your forehead. In a rush of magic, both your bodies were completely dry and your skin glowed softly with a thousand, dewy, golden sparkles. You beamed up at him, and he kissed you.

When he drew back, he led you by the hand into the bedroom and you lay down on the bed, heart racing. He knelt between your parted knees and you stared openly at his beautiful body. He looked like a statue come to life, and his cock had been more than half-hard ever since the shower, even as he turned his attention wholly on you and skimmed his palms up your thighs. You parted your legs a little wider for him and he bowed forward to kiss along your inner thigh until you shivered and lay back on the pillow behind you with a gasp.

He kissed you and tasted you, moaning softly before letting his tongue sweep up over you. He took your sensitive clit between his lips and kissed you there as well, and then he slid his arms under your thighs, lay down on his front, and you lost yourself to the pleasure of his mouth.

You lost count of how many times he made you come that night, with his tongue and with his fingers, but he never asked for more than you were ready to give.

“Come on me,” you murmured. You had no idea how well your current contraception would withstand a magical fae, but you were pretty sure you were safe with that, and when you asked, he nodded.

His fingers were slick from where he’d made you come, again, and he closed his hand around his cock with a low groan that dissolved into a gasp as he brought himself to the brink. He glowed gold again and you saw those ears made of light and the tail gleaming vividly behind him just as he spilled over your stomach with a muted grunt and another beautiful moan.

The golden light suffused the room, and you watched his expression as he came — open and vulnerable and achingly beautiful — and wished more than anything that he would stay.

When you woke in the morning, you expected to wake alone, but the warm pressure of Rowe’s body pressed against your back and the weight of his arm across your waist drew a little inhale of surprise from you. Apparently that was enough to wake him, because he kissed the back of your head and mumbled a sleepy good morning into your hair.

He was hard too, you realised, and you deliberately rocked your hips back against him.

Rowe let out a grunt and his hand shifted to your hips, drawing himself closer to you with a languid, answering roll of his hips.

“I don’t know if the fae have weekends,” you said, “But today is Saturday. I don’t have to go in to work…”

“Good,” he said. “I’m not sure I could let you go anywhere today after last night.” He said it with a laugh that told you he would let you do anything you liked, and you rolled over to face him. The softness in his smile brought one of your own to your lips, and he slid his hand down over your breast and then down between your legs.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he slipped his fingers easily inside you, and you rolled onto your back as he started a rhythm that would end in the kind of pleasure you had only ever dreamed of before him.

He smiled and kissed your cheek without his fingers once faltering, and whispered in your ear, “I’ll stay with you as long as you want me.”

You gasped and bucked, and almost missed his promise.

“I’ll stay with you forever.”

__

Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging it (as well as leaving a like) if you enjoyed it, since that will help others find it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

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[yikesmary]

FINALLY — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: in a last-ditch effort to study before your big final exam, you barricade yourself in your apartment in order to study as much as you can. on the day of your last exam, your boyfriend, seungcheol, finally sees you and comes with gifts.

notes: this is a college au because I feel like I should write more college au since I love them for some reason.

requests are open at the time of posting this, so please be sure to send in anything you want to see me write!

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Once you closed the door to your apartment, it finally hit you that you were finished with exams. Having barricaded yourself for about 4 days and instructed your friends and boyfriend to not see you until after your exams.

Smiling, you grabbed your phone in order to text your boyfriend to come over, but you were interrupted by the sound of a knock on your door.

Confused, you walked to the door and opened it, to see Seungcheol, who had his arms filled with a basket. "What are you doing here? I was about to text you to come over," you said, opening the door wider in order to let him in.

"I was counting down the days until I could see you, and I even prepared this basket filled with stuff for us to eat and do in celebration," Seungcheol replied.

Seungcheol put the stuff down on a table. "It's only been a couple of days since we last saw each other," you said.

He turned to you, wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you close. "I can barely be without you for a day, so four days felt like I was going to die," he told you, kissing you passionately.

You kissed back, feeling happy to see him.

Finally, you pulled away, feeling slightly breathless. "What'd you bring?" you questioned.

"I gave you the best kiss of our relationship so far and you want to know what I got you?" Seungcheol teased.

"Well, depending on what you brought, I might give you the best kiss of our relationship," you teased back.

Seungcheol was quick to unpack the basket at what you said. "I have the face masks you like, food, and a list of TV Shows and Movies you like that I thought we could watch as we eat," he explained.

"Actually, can I request something to do first?" you asked and he nodded.

"Of course, this day is for you. What did you want to do?"

"Sleep? You want to sleep?"

You nodded despite the fact that he couldn't see you due to the fact that you were choosing clothes to change out of and clothes for Seungcheol that he left in order to prepare for moments like these where he could sleep over.

"I probably had a total of eight hours of sleep across the four days I was studying," you told him, leaving the closet wearing shorts and a hoodie that was originally Seungcheol's.

"Let's sleep for at least a day, then. We don't have any classes this week and— is that my hoodie?"

"I've stolen so many clothes from you that you shouldn't be surprised at this point," you said, handing him the clothes and letting him get changed in the closet.

"I might start charging you for the clothes you steal,"

"Or you could always start not wearing shirts," you cheekily said.

"Baby..."

"Is it possible you got beefier the last time I saw you? Because I swear you weren't this big before,"

As if on cue, Seungcheol walked out, wearing the clothes you gave him but since they were clothes that were from a while ago, he filled out the shirt more than ever before. "Since you were out studying, I didn't have anything to do. So Mingyu and Wonwoo let me join them whenever they worked out,"

"Thank god for gyms," you muttered, staring at him.

Seungcheol smirked and you instantly knew you were caught starting. "Let me ogle at my hot and thoughtful boyfriend, okay?" you said.

He rolled his eyes at your antics but joined you on the bed. "Hot and thoughtful, huh?" He asked, kissing you on the forehead while wrapping his arms around you.

"Yeah, if only I could see him more," you dramatically said.

"Hey, if I recall, you were the one that told me I couldn't go to your apartment until after your exams," Seungcheol said, closing his eyes.

"Well, that was because they were exams."

"But, if you moved in, it'd probably be easier to see you," you added, following suit in closing your eyes.

Silence fell between the two of you, but he must've processed what you said since he opened your eyes. "Moved in? As in we live together?" He asked, his eyes wide.

You opened one of your eyes and said, "That is the definition of moving in based on the context, yes,"

He rolled his eyes, "I'm serious, smartass. Are you sure about moving in?"

"Why not? We've been together since our first year, and we're graduating soon. I'm not saying we move in here, though, seeing as it is a bit cramped. I say after graduation, we find a place to stay," you explained.

At that point, the both of you were sat up on the bed, the conversation going longer than you anticipated. "And you're sure about this?" Seungcheol asked.

"I've never been so sure about something in my life until now,"

"Well wait until I propose to you in a few years,"

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[starlight-writer]

How They Cuddle

A/n: Started this while I was stuck in traffic with a tornado warning going on. Later found out 4 touched down around me so basically God said I couldn't die until I posted this

Warnings: none, fluff, angst, semi serious? Talks of death, read with that in mind on Jake's part

Gn! Reader Masterlist

Steven

Tummy hugger

Doesn't matter the size, how hot it is inside, he will latch onto your waist and rest his head on your tummy

Prefers a bare tummy so he can feel your soft skin, but he's happy as long as he gets to hold you

And if you pet his head or play with his hair too? He's a goner

Those sleeping problems he has from time to time? Gone

Those night terrors that keep him up for hours? A thing of the past

He sleeps best when it's with you and when it's on your perfect, soft, warm tummy? He sleeps like a baby

There are, of course, nights where he's had a really bad day and he needs a bit more from you

Those are the nights where he'll ask you to lay on him

He wants to be surrounded by the thing he loves the most

And if you even try to say 'oh, I'll crush you!' he will forcibly pull you on top of him

"Yea right, you forget I was an avatar of Khonshu, love. I'm buff as fuck." He would mumble while burying his head in your hair or shoulder

It's not necessarily a lie, but it gets you to laugh

Pressure therapy is strong with this one

He has so many weighted blankets, it's ridiculous

And usually he doesn't use them now that he has you, but when there are days when you're not home or don't feel like cuddling, Steven will break out his massive pile of weighted blankets

It's honestly really cute seeing Steven all bundled up and only his head poking out of a mountain of blankets

Marc

Lays directly on top of you

Lowkey scared of crushing you so it takes a while for him to admit how he'd prefer to cuddle, but it happens eventually

Marc wants to protect you, you're the love of his life and he couldn't take it if he lost you

So he lays on you to be your shield

If anyone breaks into the apartment, which they probably wouldn't even make it past the front door before Marc absolutely destroys them, but if they do he's the first one they'll attack

And as long as you're safe, he's happy

It's a deeper reason than the others, but it's true

If he's had a bad day, it'll be different

He'll curl up into you, looking so small and vulnerable

He'll bury his face in your chest and hold onto you like you're his life line

Which you are

If you play with his hair and rub his back, maybe even hum to him, he'll pass out in no time

He feels safe in your arms and while he's not used to feeling so vulnerable, he feels like he can be with you

On the other hand, there are very rare nights where Marc will ask you to suffocate him

Not really, of course

He just needs the pressure of you laying on top of him to chase away his dark thoughts

Works every time

Not during nightmares though

Never try that during or after a nightmare

Marc will panic so hard, he might accidentally hurt you and he would rather die than do that to you

Jake

Jake is a little different than Steven and Marc

He doesn't have a preference of cuddles, as long as he can feel your skin somewhere on him, he's ok

It's not in a weird way though

If he can feel your skin, he can feel how warm you are and if he can feel how warm you are, he knows you're not dead

It's morbid, but he's seen so much and caused so much death so he's trying to reassure himself that you're not dead too

He'll have his hands under your shirt and resting on your hips, or hike your leg over his hip to feel your thighs, or sleep with his cheek pressed against your tummy

Anywhere is fair game to him as long as you're comfortable

But then there are nights where he would rather die than feel your skin

It's usually nights where he's had to kill quite a few people and while he usually handles death quite well, he has you now

He's learned to be something other than a tool for Khonshu and a shield for Marc and Steven

Those nights, he'll lay next to you and watch you breathe

The only part of you he touches is your wrist to feel your heart beat

Similar to Steven, he will ask you to occasionally lay on him, just so he can feel you pressed up against him

Not in a sexual way, though he's not ashamed to admit he would enjoy that, just in a way so he can feel a bit more of you than he normal would

And honestly, when as asks you to lay on him, it leads to some kind of make out session

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 08

PREVIOUS

FF knows that it might be possible to get a new flight and that the excuse of “Oh I found a flight so I could go spend the holiday with my Gran” would probably be unassailable even tot he great unknown of Andrew Minyard’s displeasure (FF has not yet figured out when the pin will drop and Andrew will come at him. The man is a stone wall but FF knows that Andrew doesn’t like him and that knowledge is confirmed every time Andrew and Captain Neil come into Nicky’s dorm and find FF there hanging out with Nicky and he sees both Andrew and Captain Neil frown at him.)

It’s just that it takes 7-10 business days for him to build up the nerve to have to call someone and deal with customer service and it would take more bravery than he currently has to press forward and actually get a flight that would WORK. He has a very limited window for when he can get to Washington. HIs Gran had called a friend to borrow a car to pick him up and that was only available during a 6 hour window on his arrival date.

He COULD get a taxi to his Gran’s house but… (“What if I get kidnapped, what if I get trafficked, how do I tell a normal taxi from a taxi that will take me to a place where I’ll wake up in an ice bath and down a kidney, what if the taxi driver doesn’t like me, what if the taxi driver wants to talk, I don’t have anything interesting to say! What if he says mean things about me in his native language on the phone and I have to pretend that I don’t know what he’s SAYING?)… he’d probably die during the hour long ride from the anxiety.

He tells his Gran and she promises to get a pie out to him A.S.A.P.

It almost makes him feel better until he remembers what he had agreed to when Andrew came at him at his WEAKEST MOMENT to get him to agree to spend an entire four days at the house in Columbia he has HEARD stories about.

FF, laying face down on the floor in Nicky’s dorm as Nicky pats his back: Nicky next time you see me about to agree to something that will result in me getting killed I NEED you to run up and just punch me in the jaw. I’m begging you. You know I’m a disaster.

Nicky thinking about how Andrew has gotten weirdly protective of FF since the whole step brother incident: I need you to understand that that will result in ME being killed which I am not a big fan of.

FF misunderstanding: My grandma’s not THAT strong Nicky. At most grandmothers from across the country will frown disapprovingly at you.

Nicky thinking about all the little old ladies who dote on FF for inexplicable reasons and how some of them know he’s FF’s friend and give Nicky the grandma experience he had lacked growing up: Somehow that’s even worse than what I was thinking :(

***

Nicky coming to check on FF hours later: Are…are you watching the Saw movies?

FF taking copious notes: I need to prepare myself to survive Columbia. Do you have a basement or will Andrew be moving me to a secondary location?

Nicky walking over and shutting off the TV: I think it’s time to go to bed champ.

FF: If I don’t sleep then Andrew can’t drag me to a secondary location. I bought a 20 pack of five hour energy because that is the most the CVS would sell me.

Nicky: They cut you off??

FF: Yeah the manager there said he’d sell it as a ‘favor’ to a ‘loyal customer’ but to destroy my receipt and I had to buy in cash in case I die from a heart attack so it’s not linked to them. So if I play my cards right I have around 4 days of energy right here. I have looked up all the foods that can make you sleepy and will be avoiding them to stack the deck.

Nicky guiding FF towards his bedroom: Y’know that includes turkey. Also those five hour energy shots will be murder on your tummy. :(

FF: I am willing to make some sacrifices so I can live to see 19 Nicky. Also I figure I can just drink an entire bottle of Pepto per bottle of five hour energy resulting in a net neutral situation in my stomach.

Nicky tucking FF into bed carefully: Or result in you going to the hospital for an overdose get some sleep Smith. Andrew is not planning on killing you.

FF already falling asleep because his stress energy is running out: You have no idea how much he dislikes me and how much pepto my body can handle but you’re right about going to sleep. I’ll need my strength to power through the reverse bear trap let alone a laser collar.

***

2 of Grandma Smith’s apple pies arrive in the early afternoon of Thanksgiving via a little old lady turning up at Abby’s house who is a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of Grandma Smith. The Foxes take a moment to marvel that somehow it is still warm despite apparently having been Granny expressed across the country despite the storm.

The delivering old lady pinches FF’s cheek and says not to be too disheartened and that his Grandma loves him and will see him for Christmas Break for SURE. She hands him a little note his Gran sent with the pies and he pointedly does not read it there.

This would make FF happy if he hadn’t been swearing up down left and right that he didn’t TALK to his grandma to Andrew whose eyes he can FEEL on him.

He manages a “THANKS.” In a perfectly normal tone. He has no memory that he already told Andrew and Captain Neil that he was spending the holiday with his grandma since he had blue screened at the offer last time and had rebooted in safe mode to power walk away from the situation.

“Your grandma is really nice.” Captain Neil says. “Those pies look good.”

FF, his anxiety momentarily overridden by a soul-deep love for his grandma, “My gran is the BEST and so are her pies.” And then he hears what he has said and walks back into Abby’s house to set out one pie for everyone else and goes and stress eats the second one on the living room couch after he promised Abby he’d clean up any mess.

He wonders if he’ll make it to Christmas Break as he sees Kevin Day staring at him in abject horror while Andrew stares straight at him.

Even with the attention on him he decides to check the note the other granny had given him from his Gran. It is in her native polish so he feels his shoulders relax since no one would be able to read it.

‘For my little Chicken, this isn’t your last meal like you texted me. I know you will be fine. I am thankful for you in my life every day.’

He tucks the note in his pocket and feels a little better.

NEXT

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[lilac-5ky]

The Party (Satoru x Fem!Reader)

Plot: You decide to surprise your boyfriend on his birthday

Tags: Birthday fluff, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Shibuya incident?What Shibuya incident? (year is 2018), Established Relationship, Gojo Senpai, Satoru being the adorable menace everyone loves, SO. MANY. CHARACTERS. MAKING. APPEARANCES, feels like an actual jjk ep at this point, (fic deteriorates a bit over the latter part as my mental health does, writing until 6 am is exhausting, i know im late but spare me)

Word Count: Slightly under 9k.

A/N: Happy late Birthday, my love 💙💙💙

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“Are we there yet?”

“Almost there—watch your step!” You warn, only to lose your footing a second later as you smash head first into your boyfriend’s back.

There is no way Satoru doesn’t know where the two of you are headed. Even with his technique supposedly turned off and your shaky hands concealing his curious eyes, all the things that make Jujutsu Tech into the place that raised generations of sorcerers (yours, included) continue to exist, bearing witness to his intentionally dumb guesses.

“Is it the beach? Are you taking me to see the ocean?” Satoru excites. “Aw, baby! You should have told me so; I would have brought my swimming trunks with! Although, I hafta say swimming in December is probably a bad idea, my nipples will freeze and fall right off. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

A sigh evades your lips, expelled as a little white cloud of frustration. On second thought, his mouth was what needed to be covered. Preferably stitched.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we aren’t going to the beach”—aw, shoot—“and your nipples get to live another day.” Your teeth chatter. Tiptoeing behind him with upstretched arms is already hard on its own. Doing so in the cold is purely exhausting.

You lose count of how many torii gates you cross, the joint click of your shoes switching to an uncoordinated thump as you go from traversing cobblestone paths to climbing an endless uphill of stairs, your stroll, again, feeling like part of a survival show. Curse Master Tengen. They might have only been responsible for the barriers, though in your scare, that doesn’t stop you from holding them accountable.

We are going to die.

Or more like you are going to die, considering Satoru’s already secured himself a life net in the form of your poor broken-to-be bones, and that’s the best case scenario you can hope for, the worst being having to repeat your ascension from the bottom step up.

“Then, are we visiting Himeji Castle?” Satoru continues, the frigid temperature not enough to crack his spirit. “Because I know the single best place for Tama Tsubaki. So fragrant, so elegant, so deliciously sweet! You haven’t been to Himeji before, have you? It’s also known for its excellent leather craftsmanship. Last time I went there, they had these insanely pretty wallets with—”

“N-no!” You yelp, voice as strained as if you’re walking on a tightrope. Shivering, “Wouldn’t you have noticed if I took you on a 4-hour road trip?”

“But time always moves so fast when I’m with you.” He coos in response, his tone serious when he asks, “Wanna take a break? Promise to keep my eyes closed till we reach the top. And after that too, if you want.”

Silky lashes map out the inside of your palms as they flutter against them, sweet little butterfly kisses that convince you to withdraw your hands. After all, you’d hate for his birthday to be stained with blood.

Not yours, at least.

“If you dare open them, I’ll kill you.”

“How scary!” Satoru captures your frozen hand and slips it in his coat’s pocket with far too great precision for someone with impaired vision. You don’t complain. Not even when he makes you bump into every single step on your way up, giggling to himself, until, as promised, you reach the summit and he lets go for you to assume your previous positions.

“I don’t”—pant—“miss”—pant—“walking this w-walk.” You muster in between labored breaths, palms on your knees as you crouch forward like an elderly lady with chronic back pain. “Wh-what are you smiling for?”

“Nooooooothing!” Satoru chirps, soft dimples carving hard into his milky complexion. “Just takes me back to the time when you still called me Gojo Senpai is all.”

Your youth comes playing in your head like an old cassette forced to rewind, bittersweet recollections sending you on a sudden trip down memory lane.

You met Satoru at the peak of spring and fell in love with him over the course of fall—a swirl of autumn leaves coloring the currently naked maple trees red. Muddy soles and uniforms soggy from the rain. Chasing after an umbrella you agreed to share and hopscotching across shallow puddles. Laughing louder than the pending storm.

But before that, bickering. So much bickering that continuously tested the patience of those around you, arguments over video games escorting you to morning assembly, and plans to catch new movie releases sealing your goodbyes.

The bitterness of Shoko’s cigarettes and the promise to never smoke again. Arcades and electronics in Akihabara. Karaoke and conveyor belt sushi in Shibuya. Getting a stranger to buy you your first beer and puking your guts outside a convenience store in Shinjuku. The promise to never drink again.

Moon-viewing festival. The unforgettable sight of him in a yukata, your heart multiplying itself into your eyes. Stolen glances and not-so-accidental nudges. Your first kiss tasting of melon soda, your second burning faster than the wick of his sparkler. Another kind of promise.

The giddiness of first love filters the film pink. Five-minute dates behind the old gym in flash forward. Late-night expeditions to each other’s dorms. Your loss of innocence overshadowed by the sudden loss of Haibara. Tears that threaten to spill out of the sequence. Suguru’s betrayal. The strength to move forward.

You’ve come a long way since the days you cheekily called him Gojo Senpai without a care in the world, and even though tragedy managed to forever sully them, standing here with him now makes it worth the pain. Given the chance, you’d do it all over again.

Rolling the cricks around your neck and shoulders, you walk up to Satoru, a tug at the lowest hanging tuft of hair signaling for him to meet your height. Knees bent. Eyes still closed. Lips still curled. Features so undeniably beautiful at 29 as they were at 17.

“Don’t move.” You mumble, smiling softly as you watch him pucker his lips in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, you fish out a pair of rectangular shades from inside your pocket and place them over the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s go before we get scolded for being late again.” Your hand steals his this time around, ushering him forward. A speckle of heat shooting from your fingers to your cheeks. “I trust you not to spoil your own surprise, Gojo Senpai.”

You are less than thirty steps away from your destination when, without a warning, the man behind you stops moving, forcing you to halt with him.

“What is it?” You ask, your body reeled closer to his from the bind of your fingers. “If you’re gonna ask whether I’m taking you to Laputa, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m still figuring out the coordinates.”

“That’s not it.” He huffs a chuckle against your knuckles, tenderly brushing them against his cheek. “But drop a pin when you do. Always wanted to take a nap in that fluffy flower bed. I’m sure it tastes fluffy too, just like whipped cream.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” You return, a yawn coaxed at the mention of napping. “So, what is it? Why did we stop?”

“I’m cold.”

“Well, so am I, but we really are close this time. If you just—”

“You should kiss me.” Satoru announces with solemnity better befitting a declaration of war. He realizes that himself, bringing his free hand to ruffle the hair on the back of his skull. Awkwardly. Ears tinged red. Cutely. “That would warm me up.”

“Is that your excuse?” You ask, chapped lips rubbing together. Your heartbeat felt in your throat. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Not when you’ve known each other for the better part of your lives. It’s not normal. You don’t think you are.

“Nope.” He balances things out with a boyish smile that doesn’t make things any better for the lovesick teenage girl residing in your heart. She doesn’t know any better but to fawn over it. “My excuse is that we haven’t kissed here before. We’ve kissed there,” you follow his pointer, first to a bench made of stone and then to a blind spot behind some shrubs, “and there—many times there, heh, but not here. So we should kiss.” He reasons with a simplistic, nearly childish mindset. One you can’t quite argue against.

Until his spell breaks on you rather unceremoniously.

“I thought your eyes were closed!”

“Well, they were, but then I—hah, stop pullin’ like that—started missing your pretty face too much. Can’t deny me the simple joys in life, sweet cheeks.” He grins. “C’mon, just one kiss. Then we can meet with Yuji and the others. Promise I’ll act extra surprised!”

“Y-you knew?” Your eyes widen.

“I’ve known for about a week now? Heard you two talking on the phone, plus the kids asked to be put on cleaning duty when they usually leave everything to Megumi. Then a ton of chairs started to go missing, and—”

You barely bother listening to the rest, too caught up in your thoughts for Satoru’s detailed explanation of where it all went wrong to matter. Every year without exception—from your 16th birthday party-for-two in that tiny storage room you were accidentally locked in together to last year’s all-out murder mystery dinner party—he’s managed to sweep you off your feet, and yet you can’t throw him one party without it being spoiled.

You aren’t a planner. You know that. You know, but somehow you hoped this year would be different. That, twelve years after his insistence to spend his birthday in your company alone took root, (“Why would I want to spend this day with anyone other than you, angel? We have tons of fun together, don’t we? Just me and my special girl. Speaking of, any special requests for your birthday? I have some ideas myself, hehe~”) and one year after he stopped waiting for an apparition to show up and celebrate with him, he’d allow himself to bask in the appreciation of the living.

“Are you mad?”

The buzz of his voice quiets down, the paleness of a winter morning dawning beneath snowy lashes as he peers at you from above the rim of his sunglasses. Snowflakes of wonder stirring in his irises that contain them like two perfect snow globes, trapped in them, an ageless moment of the past.

“I’m relieved.” Satoru whispers, so faintly you almost miss it.

“Re…lieved?”

“You brought everyone here, right?” You nod. “Without blackmailing anyone?”

“Just Nanami.” You admit. “And Ijichi—Shoko promised to take him out for drinks if he came.”

“That’s good.” His lips pull into a smile warm enough to thaw your worries. “Honestly, I’m not the biggest fan of my own birthday.”

“I’ve noticed,” you interrupt. “You aren’t the only one perceptive here, Mister Six-Eyes.”

He gives you a funny look, creases forming over his brow as an imaginary zipper is drawn across the corners of his lips.

You unzip it. “Please continue, Great Gojo Senpai.”

His eyes light up. Satoru isn’t one for honorifics, yet hearing you address him as such makes the lovesick teenage boy in his heart shudder with excitement.

“You know what birthday I got the biggest haul for?” A shake of your head prompts him to continue. “Seventh.” Figures, you add. He nods. “Wanna know what they got me? A Hokusai painting. You know. One of those wavy ones.” Only he would ever refer to a Japanese classic that way. “But seven-year-old kids don’t care about dead people’s paintings or Shinto shrine visits. They want adventure, balloons, and luscious Gâteau au Chocolat. The new Street Fighter game, maybe.” His fingers snap together. “They want Laputa.”

You forget your hand is still in his until it’s given a light squeeze, Satoru nervously fiddling with your fingers while he mulls over what to say next.

“Bottom line is, birthdays with the clan suuuuuucked. And then, as I got older, I grew tall enough to outrun those stupid goons watching over me. So I’d run straight to Suguru’s house, drag him to the station, and from there, we’d go to that one pastry shop in Shinjuku and buy every cake on display. We’d eat till we both got sick—hah, you wouldn’t think his stomach was this sensitive with all those curses he gobbled up, right?—and then a few years later we met Shoko, and she’d put out her cigarette on my share.” He hisses like a distressed cat. “Then we met you”—another squeeze—“and those were the best birthdays of my life. Back when we were all together.”

“Satoru—”

“I didn’t think I could have that again.” He cuts you off. “But you said you got everyone together, and while some of us are no longer here, a lot are. This is good. You did well. I’m relieved, really. I’m happy.”

By the time Satoru finishes talking, you find yourself at a loss for words, blankly staring at his unaffected expression. It’s easy to forget how vulnerable he can be in those rare outbursts of sincerity; easy to forget that the one branded as the strongest is a person who cries and breaks too, and even easier to let yourself be deceived by that happy-go-lucky attitude. But as a smile begins to take shape upon your features, you can see where he’s coming from.

You are relieved.

“What are you smiling for?” Satoru asks in the same manner you did earlier.

“Nooooooothing!” You shamelessly steal his line. “Just thinking about the sorry look on your face when you realize there’s no chocolate cake.”

“You evil witch!” He proclaims, mouth hanging slack and forefinger pointing in accusation. “Next you’re gonna tell me you didn’t buy candles either!”

“Actually…”

You take hold of his finger before he can protest any further. Not that he wants to when both his hands are enveloped in the warmth of your smaller ones, childishly swinging by your sides. Back and forth. Up and down. Round and round. Arms overlapping as you both step closer, chuckling at a joke only your eyes seem to know.

“About that kiss.” You begin, laughing again at the small, exasperated mhm your boyfriend lets out, his Adam’s apple bobbing under the high neck of his sweater. “Are you still feeling cold?”

“So cold.” Satoru wiggles his shoulders as if he’s truly shivering. “Warm me up before the cold hand of death takes me away. Pleaseeeee.”

You aren’t one to deny him. Tiptoeing forward, you crane your neck so you can reach higher, while he bends his knees to shorten himself, meeting you halfway. Heavy breaths are shared as your noses brush together. The subtle notes of bergamot on his clothes blending with the wintry crisp in the atmosphere. Eagerness tugging at his bottom lip.

You might not be one to deny him, but you definitely are the type to tease him.

“Why don’t you do it? Why should I be the one to kiss you?”

“Wha—because I asked you!” Satoru quips.

“And?”

“And I have Senpai rights. Plus you didn’t pay boyfriend tax this morning, and come think of it, you didn’t wish me a Happy Birthday either!” He gasps like he only realized that just now. He builds his entire case around it. “Birthday Boy demands it. You have no choice but to give in or you’ll be cursed for your next seven birthdays!”

“But I thought you didn’t like your own birthday.”

“Baby!” Satoru finally breaks, his voice reduced to a high-pitched whine. “Even so, you can’t be mean to me on my own birthd—”

His lips are warmer than yours when you nullify the distance, conveying the softness and fruitiness of your stolen chapstick. A smirk is written on them, bitten away as you drag his hands closer to your body, foreheads bumping together and sunglasses nearly slipping from his nose. He giggles into your mouth, whispering how hot he finds it when you take the lead—moaning at the way your tongue presses against his, and disregarding the three sets of footsteps that enter the scene.

“Sensei!” A somewhat recognizable, albeit squeaky, voice calls out. “We’ve been waiting for you!”

“Way to ruin the surprise, Itadori!” Another, angrier, squeaky voice scolds.

“Idiot, you just said there was a surprise. And I told you both to go easy on the hellion.” The last of their group tries to deadpan, somehow sounding more ridiculous than his peers.

“Pft—F-Fushiguro!” Nobara and Yuji laugh in sync, too preoccupied with poking fun at their classmate to notice your form erasing itself from existence behind Satoru’s back as he turns around to face them.

“Yuji! Nobara! Megumiiiii!” His tone is colored with a falsetto when he addresses his favorite (target) student, prompting the duo to keep harassing him with countless pokes at his confetti-laced spikes.

Your plan to use poor Megumi’s torture as a decoy to flee the premises goes to waste as your hand is held out in the open, with Satoru showing you off to them like the big prize at the end of a wrestling match.

“Oh, future Mrs. Gojo Sensei!” Yuji is the first to acknowledge your presence; the effects of the gas are all but worn off as he timidly waves at you. “I didn’t know you were here! What brings you to school today?”

“That’s quite the title, Yuji. Told you to just—ugh!—call me by my first name.” You struggle to pull your wrist out of Satoru’s grasp. You lose. “Also, no need to keep playing charades. He knows.”

“You told him? Then what was all of this for?” Nobara comes forth, a pink balloon dramatically deflating in her hands.

“Actually, I figured it out myself! Aren’t you proud to have such a smart teach—”

“No!” Two out of three shout in unison. You almost do so yourself.

After their back and forth escalates into a full-blown debate on who’s more intelligent, Satoru or Megumi’s shikigami (the results to be announced on a future episode of Are You Smarter than a Toad?) and happy birthdays are wished, Yuji asks the one question you feared answering the most.

“Sensei? Miss Y/N? What were you doing out there in the cold?”

Their own curiosity beats Megumi and Nobara to the classroom as they stall their entrance, with Satoru being the first to hit the buzzer.

“You see, Yuji, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they—ahahouch! Love really does hurt! It hurts so badly!” He yelps as you stomp on his foot hard enough to cripple an average man.

“Don’t you dare use me as a test subject for the talk, Satoru!”

“What talk, darlin’?” He smiles coyly, not losing the chance to brag. “Oh, you mean the talk about how you fell victim to my charms and couldn’t wait till we were alone to kiss me? Guess I still got it, despite the extra candle on the cake.”

“Aww!”

“Eww!”

“Gross!”

The reactions vary.

“You’ll get another candle lit up in your memory if you keep spewing shit like this!” Your attempt to step on his shoe is countered by his technique.

“Hey, no cursing in front of my precious students!” Satoru chides. “We’re supposed to set an example for them, not taint their innocent souls!”

“Satoru!” With a tremendous roar, the door flies open, startling the three students to jump behind their teacher and you to follow suit.

Principle Yaga stands by the frame, his authoritative tone coursing through your body as it recalls every punishment he ever subjected you to. The soreness in your calves from running laps around school for being late. The dryness in your eyes after surviving one of his excruciating educational VHS tape sessions for being “cheeky” and the ache in your fingers from scrubbing the gym floors squeaky clean—courtesy of being caught sneaking back into the dorm with tousled hair in the dead of night.

You almost feel sorry for Satoru acting as the wavebreaker for the incoming tsunami, but then you remember how the majority of your crimes were incidentally committed in his name and wish him good luck. He deserves whatever earful he gets, possibly something along the lines of “Sixteen minutes late? Are you trying to break a world record?”

“You think Gojo Sensei will die?” Yuji whispers. “He’s at that age when a lot of celebrities die, right?”

“He’d better not! I didn’t bring any funeral wear with me.” Nobara answers back.

“Can’t you read the room?” Megumi rasps. “Plus, that’s the 27 Club you’re talking about. Gojo Sensei has outlived that.”

“Didn’t take you for a clubgoer, Fushiguro.” The two of them snicker, prompting Megumi to sigh as he again points out their idiocy.

“Principal Yaga!” Satoru bravely puts himself forward, your line of defense falling apart like a house of cards you’re made to support on your own. “Are you here to wish me a happy birthday? How thoughtful! Guess it’s true what they say: People mellow down with age.”

“Sixteen minutes late—”

The man’s mouth twitches furiously as an invisible countdown starts in all your heads, none of you expecting the situation to simmer down before it boils over.

“But I’ll let it slide this once. Happy birthday, Satoru. I’ve stopped hoping that the years bring you wisdom and fix your bad habits. It’s pointless; every year you turn more impudent than the year before,”—is that supposed to be a birthday wish or you getting kicks from throwing shade at me?—“but I wish they bring you happiness. I made this with you in mind. Hope it’s to your liking.”

You watch as Principal Yaga reveals a felt doll from behind his back, handing it to a repulsed Satoru, who makes no effort to conceal his personal feelings, let alone express gratitude.

“Huh? What’s that supposed to be?” He asks, shaking the doll so quickly you only catch a glimpse of its fluffy white tail and stitched black sunglasses—a cat?

“It’s you.” Its maker replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And he has a name. Satoru, say hello to Catoru.”

Four of you share a look among yourselves, too stunned to say a thing until Satoru and his doll counterpart face you, the latter being held up by the scruff of his neck. Just like an actual cat.

“Do I look like this?” Satoru asks, and you all go quiet, with three hands simultaneously nudging you to represent them. Traitors!

“I mean, there are times when you do act like a cat—kinda?” Your voice is pinched up, hands moving frantically to dispute your words as your boyfriend’s face turns sourer than umeboshi. “But you look ten times—no, a hundred times more handsome! I promise! If anything, you resemble a—uh, Turkish Angora? Those are super beautiful!”

“You’d better get along.” Yaga warns. “I designed Catoru with a sweet tooth like you.”

“I don’t want a little mochi thief in my house!”

Yaga marches back into class without waiting to hear Satoru’s concerns about the impending depletion of his secret mochi stash. The kids tail after him, leaving you to comfort Satoru with a gentle pat on his back. “Let’s go inside, mm?”

The atmosphere inside the classroom is significantly more promising than what Yuji showed you on FaceTime this morning. All desks are pulled to the side in a rough T formation, with the spread of food you spent two nights making carefully put in order, from platters full of golden-crusted corn dogs and crispy chicken fingers to dainty cupcakes decorated with Konpeito candy and colorful mochi of every filling you could think of. Inumaki serves bar, and you’re pleased to see people returning for seconds, with Yuji waving his hands while praising your popping candy cake poppers to his taciturn upperclassman.

Balloons hang near the ceiling—a flag garland dangling from one end of the blackboard to the other. A gigantic birthday message spans across the surface, with smaller wishes sprinkled in abundance, some consisting of mere congratulations and others expressed with heartfelt emotion. You can easily guess who wrote what based on handwriting alone; Megumi’s by far the tidiest.

You knew leaving the decorations to Nobara was a smart choice. She knows it too. She doesn’t waste the chance to boast to Maki about it, the older girl twirling a bouquet made of lollipops between her fingers while gazing at the drifting clouds outside the window.

Satoru was right. This is good. You have every reason to be proud, too.

In the far back of the room, the adults have struck up a conversation with Panda, who snaps a picture of your entrance. The two party poopers—Ijichi and Nanami—look up from their quiet exchange.

“Satoru! You came!” Principal Yaga’s pride and joy steps forward with open arms, a party hat pulled taut between his round ears. “Congratulations on your birthday,” says Panda, planting two identical party hats on your heads. “Let me take a picture of the two of you. Couldn’t get an angle from back there.”

Your shoulders get squeezed as Satoru smooshes your faces together, the pointy tip of his hat nearly taking your eye out when he tries to steal a kiss from your cheek. You squint—and snap!

“Hey, can you take another? I think I wasn’t looking straight.”

“No do-overs!” Satoru interferes before Panda can even open his mouth. “Don’t worry! Getting a bad picture of you is impossible when you look perfect at any given time. Right, Panda?”

His former student glances down at the camera, letting out the exact same sound your computer makes when a Windows program crashes, and then rushing to mask it with a hearty chortle.

“Of course, Satoru! You got very lucky; Y/N is as beautiful as she is kind-hearted.” He shows you a grin that’s mostly teeth. “You know, she worked really hard for this party. We barely did anything ourselves.”

Not true; you all did your part…

Your eye is endangered once more, with his lips finding their target this time around. “That’s my vanilla caramel drizzle cupcake muffin baumkuchen pie to ya!”

That’s half your macchiato and half your bakery order, you argue silently.

“Shame Yuta couldn’t make it.” Panda continues. “Heard he’s down with a cold, though he did send you his gift via Maki.” A fuzzy thumb points at the closet-turned-gift-depository, where various bags and packages are stacked into a pyramid. “Anyway. I’ll let the two of you mingle. Come over if ya want more pictures of you taken. Got lots of props too.”

Your eyes follow as he returns to his post, spotting Shoko experimenting with a pair of groucho glasses. Nanami shakes his head disapprovingly, leaning back into his chair while Ijichi’s stutter is visible from where you and Satoru stand.

You glance up at him, a default smile plastered on his lips. Unreadable to others, but painfully obvious to you. The face he’s searching for is not among those present.

“Everyone seems to be having fun.” Satoru points out.

“Y-yeah.” You croak.

“Can’t believe you got everything down. Class looks like it did back then. Even the wobbly pom-pom on the party hats.” He squeezes the one on your head. “That caught me off guard.”

“Well, it would’ve been a greater surprise if you didn’t eavesdrop on my private phone calls.”

“That ain’t on me, sweets.” He whisks your hand into his and drags you onward. “Not my fault I was born with heightened senses. Better get used to it; our kids will probably take after me in that aspect.”

You shrug his comment off, watching as Satoru stows the cat away in the closet and dramatically dusts his hands off. “Another great addition to the world’s creepiest collection.” He grumbles.

“But Catoru is the cutest so far!” You object.

He is about to answer when a sound akin to that of someone choking has you both turning toward the makeshift buffet where Ijichi is downing water straight from the jug, his sunken cheeks a scarlet shade of red.

“Shit! He must’ve discovered the jalapeno poppers.” You bite your lips into a straight line, feeling somewhat responsible.

“Nice job!”

“It wasn’t my intention!”

Your plea of innocence doesn’t resonate with Satoru, who gives you a thumbs up before forming a cone around his mouth and shouting at Ijichi—chuckling at the hurried way the man searches for an escape between chairs and people.

“Ijichi! Oi, Ijichi! I-ji-chi! Over here! Come wish me a happy birthday!” He waves his arms around like Tom Hanks in Cast Away, declaring—unlike Tom Hanks—that he’s coming to him instead.

“Don’t go around terrorizing people, ‘Toru.” Your voice has him stopping his march to peck your lips.

“Promise I’ll be a good boy. You’re free to punish me if I’m not.” He smirks, finger-gunning you all the while stepping backwards in slow motion.

“You never are!”

“Hmm, that’s only because I’m the best. And you’d better prepare a handsome reward for when we get home, ‘cause the best always wins.” A flirtatious wink makes you question how many people listened in on your exchange, praying that the answer is none.

You take advantage of Satoru’s absence to pay a visit to your old friends, mentally counting the days since the last time you all gathered up. It’s been way too long—the beer you’d promised to catch up over turned into a distant fantasy.

“Gonna get yourself nauseous if you keep staring at that whirlpool, Shoko Senpai.” You plop down on the closest vacant chair, the bored brunette humming without lifting her eyes from the lemonade swirling inside her cup.

“If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will also gaze into you.” She states, managing to sound both mesmerized and disinterested at the same time.

“And? Seen anything yet?” You lean closer.

She retires with a sigh, dark circles looming below her hazelnut eyes. “Nothing yet.”

“How about now?”

Pulling your trump card—aka one of those miniature vodka bottles you specifically brought with her in mind—from your pocket, you pour a generous amount into her drink, reminiscing about the time she accidentally spiked Satoru’s soda and had him swimming on the floor.

It takes one sip for Shoko to liven up, a sudden jolt of energy coursing through her veins as she reaches out for the bottle.

“You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”

You chuckle. “Big praise coming from someone who actually saves lives.”

“Big words coming from people who openly drink in front of underage students.” The man to your left observes, absentmindedly picking at the tentacles of the octopus sausage on his plate.

“Kento! You made it!” You tip from one side of your chair to the other, arms dangling empty as he dodges your hug. “Having fun?”

“Please stop acting like him. I know the years in his company have caused your twisted personalities to merge, but the world is already wretched enough with one Gojo Satoru around.” He munches on the “good part” of the dissected octopus, discarding the tentacles inside a carefully folded napkin.

“But to answer your question, whether I’d rather spend my Friday afternoon explaining to everyone I know that the man in the picture dancing inappropriately with half-naked models in Ibiza isn’t me but a look-alike or sitting here, chaperoning a bunch of kids and making sure no one kills themselves, then yes. It’s not as horrible as I expected. And you’re as good of a cook as I remembered.” He wipes his mouth. “But I’m still clocking out at 7 sharp.”

“Come on! I did what I had to do to get you here!” You giggle, experiencing a little of the same rush Satoru feels when he’s poking fun at Ijichi. Oh no. “I am glad you’re enjoying the food, at least!”

A sound viler than any curse’s wail pierces through your ears as a TV cart is dragged into the room. You recognize it as Yaga’s old torture device—those five-hour black and white tapes gleaming menacingly on the lower shelves, with an unknown machine piled atop the cassette player. You aren’t sure what its purpose is until Yuji connects a microphone to it.

“Everyone—ah, ah, ah! Can you hear me?” The boy dabs a palm against the microphone, sounding loud and clear across the room. “Fushiguro, can you hear me? Fushiguro—ah, ah, ah!” The last of his ah’s interrupted by Megumi’s calling him out in front of their live audience.

“Everyone, thank you for coming to Gojo Sensei’s birthday party! I’m Itadori Yuji, and I’m happy to have co-hosted this event with Miss Y/N.”

A couple of heads turn in your direction, Satoru’s among them. It’s easy to make out his silhouette when he dwarfs everyone around him—Principle Yaga on his side and an antsy Ijichi lurking behind them.

“I enrolled in this school a little over a semester ago by accident.” Yuji continues undeterred. “Back then, I didn’t know any more about curses than the next person. Not that I do now.” He scratches through his hair. “Honestly, it was a lot to stomach, especially the part where I get to share my body with another. I was told I’d be better off dead, and I did die once. I was supposed to be dead, but then Gojo sensei gave me a choice, and I’m here because of that choice. More than a helping hand, he’s been a guiding light to me, and on behalf of all of us, thank you, and Happy Birthday!”He bows. “I hope you have a good one!”

Yuji holds out the microphone for Satoru, the two of them sharing a high five with an affectionate pat seeing the boy off.

“Thank you, Yuji, for this wonderful speech!” Satoru grins, evidently moved by his student’s words. “Everyoooooooooooone! Give it up for the man of the hour, the one and only, the most incredibly handsome and magnificently strong sorcerer known as Gooooooooooojo Saaaaatoruuuu!” His body twists in a pirouette, peace signs and heart signs flying everywhere as he lands with a finger pointing at where the imaginary camera would be.

Unsurprisingly, no one is impressed. Cricket sounds almost audible.

“Wow, okay. Tough crowd, I guess.” His lips comically jerk to one side of his face, his tone turning nasal before switching back. “I won’t bore you with individual thanks and other useless formality crap.”

He smirks at the way your mouth rounds a silent gasp. Nanami notices too, posing a question you shrug off.

“To cut it short: first-years! You’ve all proved yourselves as worthy sorcerers and worthier humans. As a reward, I’m proud to announce your reward in the form of a—c’mon guys, drum your desks a little!—luxurious, one of a kind, ten outta ten, uniquely planned field trip by moi!”

“Is it Paris? Are you taking us to Paris?” Nobara dreams out loud.

“Sensei! How about Universal Studio? I saw them post their newest churrito flavor on their webpage.”

“Can I sit this one out?” A gloomy murmur begs.

“Great thinking, Yuji! Unfortunately, Nobara, we won’t be going overseas this time, but, Megumi, you’ll definitely want to reconsider once you hear our destination, which iiiiiis—excitement is free, everyone!—Parque Espana!” Satoru claps for his suggestion.

Three dejected faces say pass in unison, with only Megumi daring to complain about Satoru taking him and Tsumiki to the theme park every second Sunday when the two were younger. You remember that. Some times you’d tag along, and you’d all grab ice cream while staring at that humongous roller coaster the kids were too short to ride.

Undefeated, Satoru directs his attention to the second-year students, the three of them loitering by the chip bowl. His tone turning grave, “Second years, I’m honestly very disappointed in all of you. In our two years of knowing each other, you never thought to throw your favorite teacher a party for his birthday. You’re lucky I don’t have the authority to drop you a grade, but still. You fail!”

“Fish Flakes!” Inumaki expresses his supposed disagreement.

“Huh? You never even told us when your birthday was because you didn’t want us knowing your real age, you blindfolded idiot!”

“Maki, not now!” Panda anxiously gets in her way. “Cool it!”

“You should have figured it out yourselves.” Satoru toots. “Moving forward! I’d like to give my special thanks to the moon of my life, my sun, and my stars.”—you knew watching Game of Thrones with him was a very bad idea—“Y/N! Come here, sweetie. Don’t be shy; everyone knows how much we love each other.

It almost feels like you have the limelight shining on you, with every person eagerly awaiting your response. You gulp hard, whispering so that only Nanami can hear. “You were right. Please save me.”

“What is it, Buttercup? You already have my heart, but if there’s anything you’d like for me to do, then now is the moment to say it.” Satoru smiles sweetly, his voice dripping with honey.

“Actually, there is. Can you put me down?” You kick your legs around while he hoists you up in bridal style, your unjust abduction having occurred in the blink of an eye.

“Anything and everything for you!” He kisses the top of your head, holding you close to him even after letting your feet touch the ground. “Alright, that’d be all! I hope everyone gets to have the time of their lives. Now, let’s get this party started!” He throws the microphone up in the air.

Nothing happens.

“I said, let’s get this party star—whatever.” Satoru gives up half-way through raising his arm again. “Yuji, play something fun!”

“On it!” Yuji salutes him, and the two of you walk away from the blackboard.

A faint sigh echoes behind you, its relief cut short as Satoru grabs the microphone once more. “Ah, right. Ijichi, I’ll see you in my office on Monday. I’d wear a headband if I were you.”

“I’ve c-committed a mortal sin, G-Gojo!” Ijichi struggles to say, uncertain of the crime he’s being accused of, yet hopeful for Satoru’s forgiveness.

“You are such a menace!” You throw a playful punch to his chest once he sits you on his lap, away from the eyes of people gathering around the karaoke machine, and close to Nanami, who departs with a disgusted scoff.

“You love me for it.” Satoru’s lips press softly against yours, incapable of hiding his smile when you pull his face in for another kiss, the tight squish of his arms making sure you’re going nowhere.

“I do.” You affirm, rubbing your nose on his. “I love you.”

“How much?” His eyes crinkle fondly.

“Hmm, like, a lot?” You giggle, your fingers absently brushing through the trimmed hair on the back of his skull. “Enough to spend half a lifetime by your side and still find you the most incredible person in all of creation.”

“Wanna spend the other half too?” His breath on your cheek colors your skin red, your eyes momentarily lost between shades of blue.

“Come back with a ring, Shit-toru.”

“That’s not the way you talk to your future husband!”

“He’s here? With us? Right now?” You gasp, frantically looking around, until Satoru forces you to face him with a thumb on your chin, his other hand squeezing an innocent touch around your thigh.

“Satoru!”

“Scared your future husband will see us?” He throws his head back, laughing at your panicked state. “Don’t worry. I’ll fight him for you. And win. After all, I am the strongest.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, he did it! He said the line with only—”you glance at your phone—“six hours left before the day ends, what an amazing record!”

A shrill screech fired from the other side of the room interrupts your banter, the microphone turning into a lethal weapon in Panda’s massive palms. The students appear to have divided themselves into couples, fighting over who gets to go first until Inumaki takes the initiative with a rap song—or, more accurately, sings over a rap song, as the only words in his roster revolve around onigiri ingredients that are mentioned nowhere in the lyrics.

“Stop hogging the mic!” Maki attempts to steal it, backing away as the boy teases to unzip his collar. She knows better than to push her limits while unarmed.

Panda still gets in the middle. For precaution, you assume.

“Reminds you of something?” Satoru comments on your riveted attention. “They’re just like us. How we once were. Young and full of dreams.”

“Nah. You were always a horny bastard.” You slap the inappropriately placed hand away before you get up and sit where Nanami was previously stationed. Poking your tongue at his devastated expression.

Conversation between the two of you is kept to a minimum after a different tune begins blasting from the speakers—Yuji and Megumi take over the stage with Takada-Chan’s most recent success, one of them performing the vocals to perfection while the other merely mumbles yeah’s whenever the song calls for it. Next are Nobara and Maki, the two girls belting out to an anthem of empowerment that has the boys in the room gulping uncomfortably among themselves.

The mood shifts completely when Yaga pours his soul into an 80’s power ballad, his raspy voice transforming into the smoothest velvet, complemented by Panda’s harmonies. Even Satoru praises his old teacher, cheering him on from the bleachers with a makeshift napkin-banner.

You don’t realize your boyfriend’s gone until you see him with the microphone in hand, bending the cable as he makes quick gestures for the floor to empty, performing what is possibly the cheesiest, most romantic love song ever written, and ushering you to join him once he drops to his knees—quite literally at your feet.

You ruffle his hair and shove his goofy expression away. No matter how charming his singing voice may be, he’ll never get you to sing in public. Similar to how he’ll never catch you admitting how loudly your heart beats in your chest, despite the fact that it’s written all over your face.

God, you hate this man. So much that part of you wishes you’d spent his birthday like you did every other year—tangled in his sheets and kissing till you cannot breathe.

As soon as the karaoke session ends, Megumi and Yuji exit the room to bring in the cake, with Satoru jumping them for a thorough inspection. The dessert is inspired by one of his favorite confections. Handmade mochi bites are spread evenly between three layers of fluffy strawberry cake, the entire enterprise covered in fine red bean paste and topped with vanilla buttercream, strawberry cutouts, and, of course, more mochi in a light pink shade to recreate the world’s largest daifuku.

You lost count of how many failed attempts it took to create your own recipe from scratch, but the look on Satoru’s face is better than any payment you could possibly ask. He struggles to find a word that describes his feelings—phenomenal being the one he ends up using. Definitely better than chocolate cake. Perhaps even on par with the legendary Laputa.

Everyone gathers anew for the birthday boy to blow out his candles, awkwardness sweeping through the crowd as, one by one, you come to the conclusion that there is no available lighter.

you search through your pockets for a lighter, finding none. Shoko’s unhealthy (and supposedly cut) habit comes in clutch, with the brunette handing Yuji the keys to her office. The boy sprints outside at full speed, idle chatter put on pause as the TV starts playing on its own, the song selection window traded for a relic of the past.

“Is this even working?” A young Shoko taps the camera, tilting her body at a curious angle. Short skirt rolling up.

“Probably not. That shit’s ancient, but feel free to test it! Maybe try showing it something funnier, like your pant—”

Horny bastard. Right on the money.

“Cut it off, Satoru.” A voice makes both you and present-day Satoru shudder, its owner taking the camera from their friend’s hand to shoot footage around the gym. “Yaga Sensei told us to use this to document the Goodwill Event, not film amateur gravure.” The frame shakes once more. “Looks good to me.”

“Pft, what’s the point?” Satoru flicks a pebble at the camera. “So he can make a quick buck out of me destroying those brats? The outcome’s already decided. Now turn this thing off. I wanna lay under the sun without some junk in my face.”

The camera zooms in on him splaying his limbs on the grass, possibly near the track field, based on the slight hint of red inside the green.

“The only junk in your face is your face itself.” Shoko deadpans, making him chase after her while Suguru continues filming them until they turn into a pair of flickering dots.

“These two.”

The world is turned upside down as a close-up of his bang takes over the screen. Realizing that himself, he pulls the camera further away, cat-like irises shining like pure amber under the sunny sky. You’ve missed their warmth.

“Preparation for the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, Day 1.” He declares, and the screen goes black in an instant, white noise reigning over the space.

Your hand seeks Satoru’s on its own, the faint sound of his name dangling from your parted lips, both your breaths catching in your throats. He’s left gawking at the screen, reciprocating your touch with shaky fingers that try to anchor him to you. It’s safe to say this was not part of your plan.

“Weird. Thought it’d be one of those old workout tapes.” Nobara reveals herself as the culprit behind the incident, ejecting the tape back into its box and later standing with her hands pinned to her waist. “Gojo Sensei, I recognize you and Ieri, but who was that third person in the video? Bangs Guy.”

Out of everyone in the room, she’s the only one to have absolutely no information on Suguru. Aside from the adults, the second-years were all present during last year’s attack, and Megumi knows whatever has slipped from Satoru during his stay at the Gojo clan’s compound.

Nobody rushes to respond; all of you tuned in on Satoru even though only Shoko, Yaga, and you are directly gazing at him, his face contorted with a pained grimace he tries hard to disguise.

“Geto Suguru was—”

“My best friend.” Satoru grins at Principal Yaga’s attempt to help him, grasping your hand more confidently as he confronts the girl. “Geto Suguru is my best friend.”

“Huh. Guess there’s hope for everyone.” No one’s left with any courage to laugh at Nobara’s poor attempt at a joke. “Where is he now—”

“Senseiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” A voice gains volume as the door bursts open, Yuji pouring into the classroom with the lighter held over his head like it’s the Olympic flame. “I g-got th-the—” He tries to breathe, ending up only saying, “Fire. Wish. What. Miss?”

“Yuji!” Satoru makes you follow him to the door. “You’re right on time! And no, you didn’t miss anything. Just stories of the past.”

“Stories?” Yuji wipes the sweat off his forehead. Still very much exasperated. “But I…like stories.”

“I know you do.” Satoru’s eyes settle on yours, the clamor in his eyes hushing for the first time in years. “But birthday wishes are meant for a future that’s yet to be written.”

“Thank you!”

Appreciation falls from your lips as a long-drawn yawn, every second you spend huddled under the kotatsu’s warmth begging to lull you to sleep. Today was a long day. So long, it feels as if it spanned an entire lifetime.

Satoru plops down beside you, the neckline of his sweatshirt diving low over his collarbones as he chugs his share of hot cocoa. Yours remains untouched while you switch between the same two movie options, incapable of picking one over the other.

“What do you have for me?” He asks, running his fingers over the ceramic rim. A melodic string instrument-like sound is induced.

“Okay so. Got the cult classic Sixteen Candles, which we’ve probably watched more times than Molly Ringwald had to practice her lines for the role, and I also have La Boum, in case you’re feeling more adventurous, and I don’t know. Frenchy, maybe.”

“Hmm, I mean. When you phrase it like that…”He acts as if he’s seriously contemplating his choice, only to snatch the remote from your hand and choose La Boum. He smiles slyly, curling near your chest. “It’s what you obviously wanted to watch. And I always choose, so.”

“Forfeiting your birthday boy rights?” You hum, tenderly combing through his freshly washed white strands. He smells just like his cake, you think. “Be careful. There are still nine minutes left before your birthday’s over, and you’re robbed of your rights for an entire year. Think you can make it?”

“Will you be with me during those horrid days?” His voice turns muffled.

“Always. Now, before the movie starts and you ruin the fun with your excessive blabbing, how about you reach under the kotatsu for your gift?” You suggest, chuckling as his head lifts up, cerulean eyes shining with unfeigned surprise.

“Angel! You shouldn’t have!” Satoru beams whole as he drags the heavy box out, shaking it in an attempt to feel out its contents.

“You know that doesn’t work with me. C’mon. I’ll pause for you.”

He wastes no time to untie the light silver bow that ties the box together, taking, however, his sweet time to review each and every object placed within. Carefully, he lays everything out on the table, small gasps evading him at a constant and maturing into a full-on shriek as he spots that one rare Digimon trading card you bust your gut trying to purchase via private online auctions.

“I—um. I know it doesn’t sound too good ‘cause I’m your girlfriend and I’m supposed to know everything about you and what you want, but I really had no idea what to get for your birthday. So I decided to get you a bit of everything from your favorite things. You can blame me for weaponizing nostalgia later.”

You clear your throat with a quick sip of cocoa. Licking your lips, “Anyway. It’s really no biggie as you can see. I just bought off some trading cards, ported a few of your old favorite games to a current generation console—yes, Street Fighter included—and made you this silly beaded charm with our initials for your phone, since they are back in fashion.

“I know it’s not much, and you could buy those things at any given time, but—time is something you cannot buy, right? Your childhood, your youth. The so-called best years of your life. I wanted you to have that back, even if just for a day.”

It’s been minutes, and Satoru remains quizzically silent, to the point where the array of kisses aimed at your neck comes as a true ambush. You’re knocked to the floor, giggling and flailing while he shows you his affection in every way possible, kissing you, praising you, hugging you—loving you.

“H-Happy Birthday, Toru.” You repel his face enough to say. “Y-you know, a thank you would be nice to hear!”

“As if you don’t know what I’m about to say.” Satoru grins, holding your palms to his mouth. Kissing them one by one, repeatedly, and slowly. Multiple times each. “You are my childhood. And my youth. And the best years of my life—they are all you. Everything we’ve been through, and everything we’ll live together.”

“How’s that for a thank you?” He chuckles, quickly breaking the tension with a final kiss on your nose. Perhaps the only part of you that’s not tinged red. “That being said…”

“You want to go for a quickie?” You sniffle against your will.

“See? You do know everything about me.” He reaches for the deck of cards with the swirly brown backside. “It’s time to duel!”

A/N: sorry for hastily written ending. had no time, oopsie!

[agentjazzy]

The Evil Dead Dashboard Simulator

🧍‍♂️ groovyhousewares Follow

YES I got my girlfriend a pretty pretty necklace from a gumball machine and when she sees it she's going to give me so so many kisses :)

(411 Notes)

🐟 fishwantmemenwanttokillme Follow

man, fuck tourists, I was heading to my spot when a car came up and honked at us, all friendly like, so me and buddy waved bc there wasn't anyone else there, but then they YELLED at us???? we were just walking?? wtf did we even DO

#i hope the bridge collapses i hope they all DIE #vent

(4,079 Notes)

🎲 kingofstupidbitches Follow

unethical life pro tip: if you overhear your professor talking about their family cabin that they have, and they have open office hours posted, it's your RIGHT to go check that shit out

they're not gonna be there!! they have papers to grade and other shit to deal with!!! free cabin!!!

🌋 thehillsalsohaveanniceass 📛 Follow

op what are you going to do when you roll up and they're just sitting there

🎲 kingofstupidbitches Follow

lmao his ass is NOT going to be in that cabin 😂 he just got back from a vacation with his family or something (dipshit couldn't wait until break) he's supposed to be at his office and he does NOT have the vacation days to be leaving so soon

(151 Notes)

🌹 pressedflowerpetals Follow

fml my older brother asked if I wanted to tag along on a trip to a cabin and I said sure bc it beats staying at home w/ dad

BUT IT'S A COUPLE TRIP

HE'S BRINGING HIS COWORKER/GIRLFRIEND THAT HE DOESN'T SHUT UP ABOUT, HIS FRIEND IS BRINGING HIS GIRLFRIEND, WHYYYY DID THEY INVITE ME

#if i knew i would've said no 😭 #he didn't even invite his Actual best friend #which SUCKS bc then we could've fooled around when no one was paying attention #huh who said that 😳 #cheryl posting

(4 Notes)

📜 anthroapologist 🦀 Follow

haters will hear you scurrying underneath the bowels of your home and freak out like HELLO where else am I supposed to scurry????

(1,288 Notes)

🔮 shessellingseashells Follow

you ever feel like people Immediately forget your name upon meeting you :(

#i might be too high but i don't think any of these people know my full name #i mean I'm Definitely high #and tried moonshine for the first time #but like. really feeling like an outsider rn

(0 Notes)

🎲 kingofstupidbitches Follow

it's so hard being the only chad amongst nerds, like, I GET IT, you're too much of a pussy to investigate the creepy fucking cellar, the LEAST you can do is let me listen to the tapes I found down there, they're cool as fuck

🎲 kingofstupidbitches Follow

okay and now they're all yelling at me bc a stupid tree broke a window right when the tape got good 😑

🎲 kingofstupidbitches Follow

fuck it, here's a recording of the tape, I hope none of you guys are cowards like all my friends apparently are, have fun bc I can't

(206,089 Notes)

💀 theevilacrosstheland Follow

when someone plays your song you can feel that shit in your SOUL catch me coming towards you at 15mph awoken from my eternal slumber if I hear that first note fr

(6,282 Notes)

🔍 peachycraftsection Follow

my boyfriend spent $14 in quarters attempting to get a magnifying glass necklace from one of those gumball machine toy capsules at work bc he knows I LOVE mysteries and detective stories and I need to [redacted] him in the [redacted] right NOW 💖💖💖

(432 Notes)

🌹 pressedflowerpetals Follow

everyone's making out rn which is REAL inconvenient bc there is Absolutely Something Outside

🌹 pressedflowerpetals Follow

should I check it out

🌹 pressedflowerpetals Follow

there's no one online to tell me no so.....

📝 charcoalfingertips Follow

op you haven't posted in an hour are you okay???

🌹 pressedflowerpetals Follow

I'm Irrevocably Changed Now 👍

(104 Notes)

🌹 deadite420 Follow

I'm just a silly goofy guy if I happened to have killed and maimed and bite and stab that's just who I am and how I show love ^_^

(5,724 Notes)

🔮 deadite68 Follow

coyotes are SO right, if youre trapped somewhere or someone grabs ya, just bite your limb off, no hesitation, show superiority, it's not like THEY'RE gonna do it

(2,051 Notes)

🧍‍♂️ groovyhousewares Follow

whhy is there so muchh blood everywhere........

#help #i accidentally kept my mouthh open and blood got in it :((((( #my head hurts sso bad bookcases kept falling on me

(5 Notes)

🔩 deadite883 Follow

heehee i love crawling through pipes and electrical outlets

(207 Notes)

🎶 8tracksarebetterthancassettes Follow

I logged onto Tumblr and wtf why am I following so many people with deadite in their username? is it a reference? did I miss a meme? are we mishapocolypse-ing again?

🌿 dirtissoyummy Follow

I think it might be a virus transmitted by bots but idk I'm too scared to interact

🤡 thespareshemp Follow

okay I investigated to see if it was a bot swarm or people having fun SO

for the first cluster of blogs, all their IPs are logging from the same location, which usually means a lazy bot swarm BUT I went through all their archives and most of them, before changing urls, interacted with one another naturally and stuff, @-ing one another and junk, and they seem to know each other irl

so it's just friends having fun!! and then people joining in on the fun!! feel free to reblog without fear!

#they're all still posting original content so that's kinda a giveaway #even though it's all 'deadite'fied and all #i wonder if theyre doing an arg thing

(1,004 Notes)

🔍 deadite81 Follow

when men are SOAKED with blood 👌😍🥰😘💖🥰🥰💖😍👌😘😘😘💖💖😍

(20,983 Notes)

🤡 deadite6091 Follow

JOIN US JOIN US JOIN US JOIN US JOHN US JOIN US JOIN US JOIN US JOIN US JOIN US

🛏 honkshoomimi Follow

🤡 deadite6091 Follow

You Will Be Dead By Dawn

(5,732 Notes)

🐟 fishwantmemenwanttokillme Follow

man, fuck tourists, I was heading to my spot when a car came up and honked at us, all friendly like, so me and buddy waved bc there wasn't anyone else there, but then they YELLED at us???? we were just walking?? wtf did we even DO

🥐 evilpillsburydoughboy Follow

hey you live near the state line right? can you check the news real quick

🐟 fishwantmemenwanttokillme Follow

uhhhhhhhhh

🐟 fishwantmemenwanttokillme Follow

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE BRIDGE IS GONE

🐟 fishwantmemenwanttokillme Follow

fml if any of you need me i'm going to lay down in the cold and let the forest take me

(4,079 Notes)

🛏 deadite7390 Follow

if you were to break me down to my pure essence you would be left with pure, unfiltered evil

also grits

mmmmmm grits

(2,561 Notes)

🎥 deadite3023 Follow

falling down the stairs is the most efficient way to go down them :)

(941 Notes)

🎲 deadite69 Follow

y'all ever open the window and AUGH OUGH UGH UGH UGH AAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAA THE AGONIES and then you adjust to the sunlight and you're fine

(8,091 Notes)

🧍‍♂️ groovyhousewares Follow

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE HELP ME

(3 Notes)

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

Codename: Red Daughter

Kara is eyeing her purse, it's small but one could fit a handgun in there if one wanted. Lena deliberately sets it down on the sideboard, and Kara's left eyebrow twitches. "What, are you gonna shoot me again?"

Kara looks royally pissed, and Lena can’t help the smirk that pulls on her lips. "Well, the night's not over yet."

Kara glowers at her, but instead of intimidating Lena, she just finds it cute. "You shot me."

Lena shrugs her shawl off. "With a tranquilizer dart."

"Oh, my mistake," Kara scoffs. "You shot me and drugged me."

"Sarcasm is adorable on you, darling." Lena approaches her with a fond smile. "But you had a clear shot. Even your incompetent little DEO friends could see that. You know as well as I do that it would have looked suspicious if I didn't shoot you before you could shoot me."

She straddles Kara, who looks up at her with the cutest pout even as she pulls Lena's hips flush against hers. "That's not the point. I'm still mad at you."

"No, the point is: The half-life of that drug I gave you is 4 hours. It's barely 10 o'clock. You must still be feeling the effects of it." She slips her hand over Kara's collarbone which is unnaturally flushed. "You have exactly 6 hours until the drug I gave you wears off."

Lena gives Kara a wicked, challenging smile. "What do you plan to do about it?"

...

Later, when the aftershocks of her last orgasm finally die down, Kara slumps forward, panting into Lena's shoulder. "What on earth was in that drug you gave me? Stimulants? Some kind of aphrodisiac?"

And then Lena laughs breathlessly, slipping her arms around her. "That was just a mild sedative, it would have worn off before you even got here. This," she gestures at their sweaty, sticky bodies, "was all you, Supergirl."

....

....

....

....

Back at the DEO, Lex Luthor examines the small dart in his hand intently. The knocking on his office door barely registers and he mutters a distracted "Enter."

Alex Danvers, ever efficient, gets straight to the point with her report. "Red Daughter has been cleared by medical, sir. She's sleeping off the drug. I saw her home personally myself."

Lex turns the dart over in his fingers, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth "Oh, Lena...." he tuts under his breath in amusement.

Danvers frowns a little in confusion, but she doesn't question him. She's a good little soldier, this one. Lex gives her a beatific smile. "Tell me, Director Danvers. Statistically, how many people are killed by this sedative?"

"In that dose, sir? Likely none."

"Exactly." A grim smile appears on Lex's face. ".... You might want to check on your sister, Director. I think you'll find that whatever drug this is my fool of a sister dosed her with, she's not sleeping it off."

______________

A little supercorp spy AU based on the Earth prime thing where Lex is the head of the DEO. It's a no powers AU, but Alex and Kara are both working with the DEO (and as you probably already figured out, Kara's code name is Red Daughter). Lena is actively working against Lex, but she crosses paths with Kara, who begins to doubt Lex's intentions, and together they team up to expose Lex and bring him down.

Kiiiiiiiinda related to this one, but not really. I just went nuts after seeing The Continental trailer and then I remembered this AU, so here you go.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Teenage Dirtbag - Eddie Munson

A/N: well, this keeps on working so far 😂😂😂 here's Eddie's story! and then is full Marauders, James, then Remus, and then Sirius! I hope you guys like it!

Request - lunamadhatter99 asked: I do have a request, my friend! I'm so happy requests are open😍 Anyway: Henderson!Reader x either Steve or Eddie (whoever works better for you), where the reader is very quiet, not necessarily shy, but still. She's targeted by the jocks too because she's the "loser" sister, you know, and maybe one day, one of their pranks went too far and she's very upset about it (maybe is the process a special possession of hers). Every time she gets bullied, Steve/Eddie helps her comfort her, especially because she doesn't want to tell his little brother, who thinks she is friends with them... does it make sense? I don't know, I'm sorry 😂👋

Warnings: mentions of sex; Billy being an asshole (also, this is kinda between s3 and 4 and Billy didn't die so Jason and Andy are his dumb friends I hope this makes sense) reader is kind of mean to Dustin (not really, she's just grumpy and a loner instead of shy, kind of like Kat in 10TIHAY)

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things :) gif isn’t mine :D  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Teenage Dirtbag

'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby Listen to Iron Maiden, baby, with me, ooh

“DUSTIN! Hurry up! Steve is gonna be here any second! We’re gonna be late!” you smashed your hand against the bathroom door, yelling for your brother to get ready. You had been feeling anxious all day. Something inside you told you that today might not be a good day and, as much as you tried not to, you took it out on Dustin.

“I’m coming! Geez, calm down!”

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the kitchen to finish your coffee and wash the dishes but you tripped over a bag full of garbage.

“Ugh! Dustin!” you yelled as he walked over to you.

“What? What did I do now?”

“The trash is your chore” you complained, grabbing the bag and handing it to him. “When I say take out the trash, I mean outside of the house. To the trashcan!”

“Maybe you can show me for next time” he laughed.

“Maybe I can give your Nintendo to goodwill” you smirked back, erasing the smirk off his face.

“Fine, sorry” he said, grabbing the bag and going outside.

“Let’s go!” you said as soon as you heard Steve’s car parking on your driveway.

“Wait, where’s lunch?”

“Oh, shit!” you said, grabbing some of the money you left near the door in case Dustin needed to order food. “Here” you said, grabbing $10 for yourself and giving Dustin $5.

“Why do you get $10 and I get $5?” Dustin complained.

“Take out the freaking trash!” you replied, mocking his exact same tone.

“Good morning, Hendersons!” Steve smiled as you got in the front and Dustin got in the back.

“Thanks for the ride, Steve” you said. “Robin still out of town?” you asked, confused to not see her there already.

“Yeah, she’s coming back next week-”

“Why are we even going this early? School doesn’t start for another hour!” Dustin asked on the ride to school. “And why do you always ride shotgun?”

“Because I’m Steve’s favorite Henderson” you smirked. “And Steve has an early shift, so I wasn’t going to make him wait for us” you explained. “Plus, I have to get together with Nancy for something about the school paper” you informed him.

“Well, I could have taken my bike-”

“Just say thank you, Dustin!”

“Thank you” he said, rolling his eyes a little.

“Hey, aren’t those your old friends?” Dustin asked as Steve drove into the parking lot. You looked to where he was pointing to see the basketball players hanging outside the school with some of the cheerleaders.

“No” both you and Steve replied at the same time.

“Are you sure?” Dustin asked, confused. He recognized some of them, although he had noticed you never talked to them anymore.

“I’m sure” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just… stay away from them, okay?”

“Okay” he said, unconvinced. “Um, are we having movie night?” he asked Steve.

“Yeah, my house” he nodded.

“Cool. I think we’re going to Mike’s after school, so I’ll see you there” he told them.

“Okay” you nodded. Dustin started opening his door but you stopped him. “Dusty” you said, making him look confused at you. You rarely called him that anymore. “Nothing… I’ll see you at Steve’s” you told him and he nodded before he got out.

You saw him make his way over to Mike, Will, Lucas, Max, and El and you heard him complain about you and all of them saying how you used to be fun and happy all the time. You let out a sigh of frustration, throwing your head back on the chair.

“You know, you could just… tell him” Steve shrugged.

“I’m good” you told him.

“Dustin’s just worried about you” he insisted. “And to be honest, so am I-”

“Harrington, I know my brother’s your best friend now-”

“That’s not true” he glared at you.

“But you were my friend first and you promised we wouldn’t discuss this with Dustin” you told him.

“I’m just… a little confused, okay? Why did you all of the sudden stop hanging out with them like, what, a year ago?”

“You did too!” you argued.

“Well, yeah, because they’re assholes-”

“Exactly” you told him.

“But, now you’re here alone, because I graduated, I just don’t want you to be alone-”

“I’m fine on my own” you shrugged. “Plus… Eddie’s my friend-”

“Oh, right… Munson. That’s another thing. I know something happened last Halloween, okay? You mysteriously stop hanging out with all of our friends, you started wearing darker clothes, darker makeup and you start hanging around with Eddie, the freak, Munson-”

“I told you to stop calling him that” you glared at him.

“Which you also hide from Dustin-”

“Well, I just don’t want him to think that the only reason he and his friends are in Hellfire is because I asked Eddie to look after them-”

“But you did-”

“Steve, it is too early in the morning to have this discussion” you said, rubbing your temple.

“Fine… I’ll drop it” he said. “For now” he added, making you glare at him a little. “You working today?”

“No, it’s my day off” you informed him.

“Cool, want me to pick you up after work?”

“You sure it’s not too much trouble?”

“Nah, you’re my favorite Henderson after all” he smirked.

“I knew it!” you said, kissing his cheek before you opened the door. “See you later, Stevie” you said.

“Have a good day, kid” he waved at you.

He noticed you walking close to the group of jocks and they yelled something at you but you simply flipped them off and kept walking. Steve felt a bit uneasy about it but decided he would ask you about it when he picked you up. Sooner or later, you had to talk to him.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Hey, princess” you felt a small smile, trying to contain the butterflies you felt in your stomach when you heard that voice. You turned around to see Eddie smiling at you.

“Munson, I thought you were standing me up today” you said as he sat at your usual table in the woods, past the bleachers.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love” he said, sitting in front of you. “What do you got for me today?”

“I forgot to make lunch, so I had to grab something from the vending machine” you said, putting your cigarette out. “So, pretzels, or Reeses Pieces?”

“You just… happened to pick my two favorite things?” he smirked. “If I didn’t know any better, Henderson, I would think you like me” he mocked you.

“Uh-huh, is that a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? And two cokes?” your sked, looking at his bag.

“Grape jelly. Your favorite” he winked at you.

“Huh, if I didn’t know any better, Munson, I would think you like me” you returned the smirk.

“Wanna split it?” he asked and you nodded as you split the three things between the two of you. “So, what are you working on?” he asked, about to grab your sketchbook.

“Nothing!” you quickly said, putting it away before he could get it.

“Oh, that doesn’t sound suspicious at all” he mocked you. “Come on, show me!”

“It’s just… a work in progress” you told him. “It’s not finished yet” you insisted.

“Fine, be all mysterious” he chuckled. “Hey, did you get new colored pencils?” he asked, grabbing one of them.

“Oh, um… y-yeah” you said nervously. “There was a discount at the store where I work and-”

“Really?” he raised his eyebrow at you. “Or were your old ones… broken?”

“Um… there may have been an… incident-”

“Who?” he asked, his tone turning angry.

“It doesn’t matter, Eddie-”

“Yes, it does! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t want you to get into a fight and not graduate with me this year” you told him, making him laugh just barely. “Look, it’s fine. I really did get a discount and…” you said, looking through your bag. “I got markers too” you smiled brightly at him. “Look!”

You stood from your place and sat down on the table with your feet on the bench next to Eddie. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your knee, which was not an uncommon thing for you to do whenever you drew something on him but he felt his cheeks blushing. You quickly drew a small doodle of the Hellfire symbol using different colors and you smiled when you were done, showing it to him. Eddie rarely get to see that smile on you and he loved it when it happened.

“Holy shit!” he smiled, looking down at his hand. It looked cooler than the one in his shirt.

“Do you like it?” you asked, bashfully.

“I love it, princess! This is amazing!” he said, looking back at you. “You’re amazing” he smiled.

“Um, thanks” you said, looking down at his hand and feeling your cheeks burn. You could not ignore the butterflies in your stomach any longer. You grabbed his hand and stroked your thumb against your new drawing. “Uh, a-actually, what I didn’t want to show you is um… kind of… a surprise…” you admitted, not facing him.

You saw Eddie’s hand untangle from yours and make its way up to your chin, lifting your head gently and making you look into his beautiful, chocolate-brown eyes.

“A surprise?” he asked, smiling brightly. You simply nodded, unable to form any words by the way he was looking at you. “What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise!” you chuckled. “I just want to finish it before I show it to you” you told him.

“Okay, fine” he said, as his hand suddenly found its way back to yours and you started playing with his rings. “But… you promise you’ll show it to me when it’s done?”

“I promise. I mean, it’s kind of… for you” you told him.

“Really?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, it’s kind of… a thank you” you admitted. “For everything” you added. “Even for my brother and his friends. Thanks for letting them in Hellfire” you told him. “I know they're a bit weird but… I love them and I'm happy they found someone like you” you said.

“My pleasure, princess” he told you. “They’re cool kids” he chuckled. “Especially Dustin” he added. “Although he keeps asking me why I always have different doodles all over me” he chuckled.

“Yeah, he’s pretty smart” you laughed too. “I don’t think it’ll be long before he realizes about us” you said, without really thinking. “I m-mean uh-”

“Us?” Eddie smirked. “And exactly what would he realize?” he asked, getting up and towering a little over you, placing his hands on both your sides. “That we’re friends?” he asked, with the same smirk still plastered on his face.

“Y-yeah, I guess” you said innocently.

“Would he mind?”

“Um- I don’t think so, I just… don’t want him to think that you’re only his friend b-because of me” you explained.

“Oh, he wouldn’t think that” he assured you, as he gently brushed your hair away from your face. “And… what if he thinks there’s something else between us?”

“Is there?” you asked, as you felt him getting closer. And then the bell rang. The stupid bell rang. “Fuck!”

“Ignore that” he pleaded.

“No! We have a Math test” you said, pushing him away and gathering all of your things. “I told you, Eddie, you’re graduating this year, with me. Let’s go!” you threatened him.

“You’re killing me, sweetheart” he said, as you pulled him with you but he was stronger and he pulled you back. “To be continued?” he smirked.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, you smiled. It was a different smile, one that you didn’t think you had in you anymore and you could see Eddie noticed it. You leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“To be continued, Munson” you said, before you started pulling him towards the school despite his protests.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You were waiting in the parking lot for Steve. As much as you wanted, you were not able to be with Eddie alone the rest of the day. You were hoping to catch him at the end but, as a surprise to no one, he got detention, so here you were.

“Well, if it isn’t my lucky day?”

You cursed under your breath, silently begging for Steve’s car to appear any moment now. But no such luck.

“Hargrove” you sighed. “Oh, if it isn’t Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum” you smirked at Jason and Andy, standing with Billy.

“Fancy meeting you here, babe” Billy smirked at you.

“Can’t say the same” you said, trying to walk away but he stepped in front of you. “What do you want, Hargrove?”

“See, I have a question for you” he said. “Andy here, says he saw you coming out of those woods with Eddie fucking Munson” he said, getting closer to you and making you take a step back. “Is that true?”

“I fail to see how that’s any of your business, really” you glared at him.

“Well, for starters, I think Munson can do better” he said, making Andy and Jason laugh.

“Lovely” you rolled your eyes, trying to walk away again but they blocked your way.

“Aw, did I strike a nerve there? Do you have a crush on Munson?” he mocked you.

“Just, leave me alone, Billy-” you said, trying to leave but, you felt your sketchbook being taken from you.

“Oh, what is this?” Jason asked, opening the sketchbook. “Do you write your love letters to that freak here?” he laughed.

“Give that back!” you said, trying to get it back from him.

“Oh, it’s even better than that!” he said, showing your sketches to Billy and Andy who started laughing.

“Give me that!” you said as he tossed it to Billy.

“Looks like you’re a bit obsessed with him, babe” he said, looking at your drawings. “I’m guessing you wouldn’t want anything to happen to this, would you?” he said, tearing a few pages apart.

“Billy, give it back!” you yelled, but he pushed you back, making you fall to the ground, your hands aching when they hit the pavement.

“Whoops, clumsy me” he said, tossing your sketchbook on a nearby water puddle.

“Stop it!” you said, getting up and trying to get to it but Andy pushed you away.

“HEY! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?”

“You want something, freak?” Jason yelled, smirking.

“Oh, speak of the devil” Billy smirked as Eddie approached all of you.

“Get the fuck away from her” he said, making his way over to Billy.

“Why don’t you keep walking and mind your business, freak?”

“You know, I gotta say, even for you, it’s pretty low, three guys against one girl” he smirked, erasing Billy’s.

“You really think it’s worth it? Standing up for that slut-?”

Before Billy could go on, Eddie quickly punched him in the face.

“Eddie!”

“You’re dead, freak!” Jason said, punching Eddie back while Billy got up, laughing.

“Looks, like you got some fire in you, Munson!” he yelled before he punched him too.

“Eddie!” you yelled, trying to get to him but Andy stopped you. “Stop it!”

“You having fun, Munson?” Billy smirked as he landed punches on Eddie before he grabbed him by his jacket. “No one tells me what to do!” he said before he pushed him to the ground again. He then threw himself at Eddie and started landing punch after punch, like a madman. The last time you had seen Billy like this was when he fought Steve and it shook you to your core.

“STOP IT! BILLY, STOP!”

“You really think you traded up, babe?” he smirked, looking at you. “He’s even worse than Harrington!”

“STOP IT, PLEASE!” you said, as tears started welling up in your eyes.

“Aw, you gonna cry, princess?” he said, mocking Eddie’s voice with the last word.

As if your prayers were finally answered, a car reeled in front of you, almost hitting Jason.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” he asked as Steve got out of the car.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

“Come join the party, Harrington” Billy smirked at him, finally letting go of Eddie. “Ready for round two?”

“Yeah, let me just get my friend here” Steve smirked, grabbing his bat out.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Andy said, letting go of you, and slowly walking away with Jason. You quickly ran over to Eddie, pushing Billy aside.

“Ready to go, Hargrove?” Steve said, walking closer to him as he and the other two stepped away.

“You know what? She’s not even fucking worth it” Billy said, throwing one last glare at you. “Let’s just go” he told Jason and Andy as they walked away.

“Eddie! Oh my God, Eddie! Can you hear me?”

“Do I have a concussion or did King Steve Harrington just save my ass?”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry” you apologized, taking the cotton ball away.

You were now in Steve’s kitchen, cleaning Eddie up. You carefully pulled his hair up in a messy bun with your scrunchie so you could see him better. You placed your hand softly on his cheek and your heart broke seeing a big purple bruise printed on his left eye. He looked at you with his huge, deep brown puppy eyes and you had to take a deep breath to not lose it right there because you knew he needed you.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, worriedly.

“M-me? You’re asking if I’m okay? Eddie, Billy and Jason just beat the shit out of you, and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

“First of all, I’d like to think that I handled that with dignity. Secondly, you fell to the ground and that idiot Andy was hurting you” he said, grabbing your hand and tracing his thumb gently on the bruises forming in your arms where Andy grabbed you.

“I’m really sorry, Eddie” you said, coming out in a whisper and tracing your thumb against the now fading drawing you made earlier on his hand. A small tear fell down your cheek and Eddie quickly wiped it away before he cupped your cheek.

“Princess, you have nothing to be sorry for” he assured you.

“Yes, I do! You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if it wasn’t for me” you insisted.

“Hey” he said, pulling you closer to him. “I would do it all over again, love” he smiled at you.

“Hey, man” Steve said, coming into the kitchen and making you and Eddie jump apart. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I got some clean clothes for you” he said offering Eddie a shirt and some sweatpants.

“Thanks, man” Eddie smiled, grabbing the clothes from him. “I’m uh- gonna go change and I’ll get out of your way-”

“We’re having movie night” Steve blurted out of the sudden. “We’re ordering pizza and Dustin, Mike, and the rest are coming over. If you’d like to stay” he offered.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, man-”

“You’re not intruding. It’s the least I can do after you got hit for me” you told him.

“You keep bruising my ego, Henderson” he smirked at you. “What are we watching?” Eddie asked, interested.

“Gremlins” you told him.

“Seriously?” he asked, raising his eyebrow at Steve.

“Don’t look at me, man. It was her turn to choose the movie!” he said pointing at you.

“Shut up, you two. Gremlins is an awesome movie!”

“Isn’t that what you call your brother and his friends?” Eddie laughed. “I didn’t know that was your favorite movie, princess” he said. “Well, how can I say no to that masterpiece and pizza, I really can’t” he said, leaving the kitchen.

“So…” Steve started.

“So?”

“Are we going to talk about what happened today or are we just going to pretend nothing happened?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Well, you can choose between telling me why your sketchbook has smudgy drawings of Eddie” he said, opening your wet, torn, destroyed sketchbook. “Or why Hargrove and his friends were beating the shit out of him in the parking lot” he added.

“Steve, I don’t want to talk about it-”

“Well, tough. Look, we’ve been friends for a very long time now. I told you why I stopped talking to Tommy and Carol and all of our friends but you never told me why you did and somehow Munson knows!” he argued. “I get that you don’t tell Dustin everything because you want to protect him but what is so horrible that you couldn’t tell me?”

“You don’t want to know-”

“Yes, I do! You’re my best friend! You can tell me anything!”

“You’re gonna hate me!”

“What? No! I swear, okay? Nothing you say will make me hate you! We’ve been through enough shit that you should know that already-”

“I slept with Billy!” you blurted out.

“W-what?” Steve asked, hoping he hadn’t heard you right.

“What?” another voice asked, from another side of the kitchen. Dustin.

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me!” you said, feeling like you were going to throw up. “What are you doing here?”

“We all just got here, I was looking for you” he said, walking closer to you and Steve. “You slept with Billy Hargrove, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Dustin!” Steve warned.

“You know what? I don’t want to deal with this right now” you said, grabbing your damped sketchbook and walking out of the house to Steve’s backyard. Dustin was about to follow you but Steve stopped him.

“Look, I get that you’re upset but you’re not going out there if you’re only going to upset your sister more. She had a hard day-”

“Well, how would I know that, Steve? She doesn’t talk to me!”

“What’s with all the yelling?” Eddie said, coming back into the kitchen.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” Dustin asked confused. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Uh- I am…” he looked at Steve, unsure as to what to say.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on? And what are you two and my sister hiding from me?”

“We’re not hiding anything from you. You need to calm down and we can go sort this out, okay?”

“Fine” Dustin said, unconvinced.

“You promise you won’t snap at her like you just did” Steve glared at him a little.

“Okay” he sighed, rolling his eyes. The three of them walked outside to find you sitting on one of Steve’s pool chairs. Steve and Eddie sat next to you and Dustin sat on the edge of the one you were sitting in. “Uh, hey” he said, nervously. “Um-” he continued when both Steve and Eddie glared at him. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier” he muttered.

“It’s fine, Dusty” you said, sitting up and hugging your legs to you.

“Look, Dustin and I are just worried about you” Steve continued. “We don’t want to push you or anything, we just… want to know what’s going on with you” he added. You looked up at Eddie and he softly nodded at you. He really wanted to hold your hand but he figured Dustin might freak out about it too.

“Um…” you took a deep breath. “Look, I know that… I’ve kind of been pulling away” you started. “And I’m sorry, it’s just…” you sighed. “It was a stupid mistake and I didn’t want either one of you to hate me” you admitted.

“What- uh, when?” Dustin stuttered. “Um, no, y-you go” he said.

“It just happened once” you informed them.

“At… last year’s Halloween party?” Steve guessed and you nodded.

“Look, I was… really drunk and, dad had just left and… mom was kind of a mess and… I don’t know, I guess I was too” you said, sadly.

“Wait, I was there that night, why didn’t you tell me anything?” Steve asked, confused.

“You had your own shit going on” you reminded him. “With Nancy” you added. “So, after you left I got drunker and… then I don’t know, Billy was just there and… it happened” you sighed. “And after I felt so awful” you told them. “When I came down I ran into Eddie and he saw I was upset” you explained. “He drove me home and… he stayed with me and he made sure I was okay” you smiled. “That’s how we became friends-”

“You two are friends?” Dustin asked. “I knew I recognized your doodles” he said, looking at the metalhead.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you” you told Dustin. “I just… didn’t want to get into the whole thing and… it’s not really the conversation you have with your little brother” you admitted.

“I get that but… we used to talk about everything” Dustin said, sadly. “We were always kind of a team and for the past year it just felt like… you hated me” he said.

“Dusty” you said, sitting closer to him and hugging him. “I could never hate you” you assured him. “I am so sorry I pushed you away, I was just… so embarrassed about what happened and, I kind of wanted to forget the whole thing and I guess that in the midst of it all I just… ended up pushing everyone away” you explained.

“So, what happened today?” Dustin asked, confused.

“Well, I was waiting for Steve to pick me up and Billy and his friends just started being idiots” you told him. “Eddie saw and tried to help me” you continued. “And then Steve got there with his bat and they went away” you told him.

“So, that’s why you tell me to stay away from them? I mean, I always knew Billy was a dick but… all of your friends?”

“Well, yeah. I told Billy that if he ever said a word about what happened to anyone, I’d tell everyone he cried like a bitch and he had a small dick” you said, making the three of them laugh a little. “And then, either I just stopped talking to them or they would stop talking to me and… it wasn’t just Billy, you know? You were right” you said, looking at Steve. “They were all just… assholes” you admitted.

“I could have told you that a long time ago” Eddie chuckled.

“You okay?” Dustin asked you.

“Yeah” you smiled. “I’m sorry… about… everything” you told him. “Both of you” you said, looking at Steve.

“Don’t worry” Dustin smiled at you. “I love you dumb-dumb” he said, putting his fist so you would bump it.

“Love you too, dumb-dumb” you smiled back and bumped his fist. “No more lies” you promised and he nodded, smiling.

“It’s fine” Steve said, getting up and kissing your head. “C’mon little Henderson, let’s go set everything up” Steve said, patting Dustin on his back.

“Wait, why do I have to go?” he complained, still getting up.

“Just be nice to your sister, man, she’s been through a lot” Steve complained.

“What about me? I have been through a lot too!” he said, dramatically as they went inside, leaving you and Eddie alone.

“Hey” you smiled back at Eddie.

“Hi, princess” he said, moving over to take Dustin’s place in front of you. “How are you feeling?”

“Not so bad” you sighed. “I still would have preferred not to discuss my sex life with my little brother but… it is what it is” you chuckled.

“Sorry about your sketchbook, love” he said, looking at it on the floor.

“It’s okay” you sighed, going through the damped pages. “It just… might take me a little longer to finish your surprise now” you said, sadly.

“Wait, is that… is that me?” he asked, feeling his heart flutter.

“It… was supposed to be” you told him. “I mean, your D&D character” you muttered. “I… wanted to um… I was trying to get it right and I thought you m-might like it-”

“It’s perfect, princess” he smiled at you.

“It’s ruined, Eddie” you chuckled.

“Well, then I guess I need to get you another sketchbook, love” he said, grabbing it from you.

“You don’t have to get me one, Eddie” you smiled as he scootched closer to you.

“Jesus, Henderson would you just let me do something nice for you” he smiled, cupping your cheek with his hand.

“You do nothing but nice things for me, Munson” you smiled.

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me, sweetheart” he smiled back.

“Well, in that case, maybe you can do one more nice thing for me” you said, pulling him by his shirt, well, Steve’s shirt and he pulled you gently, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“Gladly, princess” he said, smiling before he finally connected his lips with yours. He felt you smiling against his lips as you started deepening the kiss before you were rudely interrupted.

“Hey guys, pizza’s here- what the fuck?” you jumped apart when you heard Dustin’s voice again, with Lucas, Will, and Max standing next to him, trying not to laugh. “You two are together? I thought there were no more lies!”

“Would you believe me that this literally just happened, Henderson?” 

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: hope you loves liked it! :D

[amazingmaeve]

INFATUATION (1/?)

homelander x fem!reader

summary — homelander meets Ashley’s sister and he’s already feeling infatuated with you and he just can’t help it, even though ashely is fucking annoying he can’t help but think you were the exact opposite.

warnings — homelander is himself a warning, stalking, toxic behavior from homelander, breastfeeding, kinda angst and fluff

word count — 2174

authors note — this is my third homelander fic and the other two are on my AO3 account and this one will be as well. also tried and different writing perspective.

homelander masterlist | the boys masterlist

YOU took a deep breath looking at the huge Vought tower, looking down you saw your daughter in the stroller and it calmed you down a bit. Eleanor was the light of your life and yeah that might be a little bit of a cliche but it was true.

Her father ditched ever since he figured out you were pregnant and all you had was yourself to help fend for you and for Eleanor. He was a douchebag anyway only cared for himself and his own life, not caring what happened to you or Eleanor but you were doing okay on your own.

I mean yeah paying for all the stuff for a baby was hard but at least you didn’t need to pay for formula since you breastfeed, but you just move for a job that would hopefully work out. Luckily it was close to your sister, Ashley. You’ve been in contact but never visited since you didn’t have the funds to do so, but now you could see her all you.

Ashley was your number one supporter when you got pregnant and she was even there when you gave birth and loved Eleanor. She was also the last defining factor of moving here in the first place, you could have a job that paid decently and see your sister.

You knew she worked for some of the most popular supes in the world and that’s why you were kind of nervous to step in the building. They were superheroes though, they’re not dangerous. At least Ashely hadn’t told you anything that would imply that and she even invited you to come to her work.

So how could this go wrong.

It was just worrying, that’s something you’ve done since you were a small child and even took some anxiety medication to help.

Walking into the big building with your stroller, you would’ve thought people might’ve been ogling at you but it seemed like everyone was into their own conversations or just minding their own damn business. That was at least nice, at least.

But it was intimidating standing in the lobby of this building where the seven stayed. The supes were nowhere to be seen at least and you hoped Ashely would get down here soon because it was getting awkward. You texted her when you first arrived which was about 5 minutes ago and you were starting to worry.

Luckily Eleanor hadn’t sensed your discomfort.

“Y/N you made it,” Ashely says with a smile as she walks up to you, wearing her usual bright pantsuits.

“I was worrying you forgot about me,” You said with a smile as you hugged her. She gave you a tight squeeze before looking down and smiling at Eleanor.

“How’ve you been,” Ashely asked as the two of you walked towards the elevators. You didn’t know where you were going but it was probably to her office or some more private place so you could talk.

“It’s been hard taking care of a newborn baby but I’ve been pushing through it,” You told her vaguely not wanting to worry her. You’ve been only getting 3-4 hours asleep on a good night, but it was the normal life of a single parent, or a parent in general. “Eleanor is totally worth it though, she is the cutest thing,” You cooed at your baby as she gurgled in her stroller.

“She is, and I’m glad you brought her here because I’ve been wanting to babysit and since you’re closer it's so much easier to do,” Ashley says with a smile.

“I just don’t want to intrude on your life, you have a job that you need to do and having a baby will only make it harder,” You expressed as you picked at the skin around your finger nails.

Bad habits die hard.

“It wouldn’t be a burden trust me, I’ve been wanting to see my niece since she was born and I insist,” Ashley promised.

“Okay only if you’re okay with it,” You muttered as the elevator doors finally opened and you walked behind her, to her office which seemed totally cool to you.

“I can’t believe you got your own office that is totally badass, and it totally suits you,” You complimented as she closed the door behind her and leaned on her desk and gave you a coy smile.

“It does feel good to have an office but this job is kinda grating,” Ashley murmured looking down at the floor.

“That is totally understandable though, I mean you’re brushing shoulders with the seven, the most famous superheroes, who wouldn’t be stressed,” You reassured her sitting on the couch and placed the stroller next to you so you could keep your eye on Eleanor.

“At least somebody understands,” Ashley says, giving you a smile. Something dings on her phone which she then pulls out of her pocket and her eyes widen. You look at her worried as you move the stroller back and forth. “I’m sorry I have to go,” She rushed out.

“Wait what am I supposed to do here,” You quickly ask as your heart races against your chest.

“Don’t worry I won’t be long, just stay here playing the tv, I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Ashley says before leaving the room and slamming the door behind her.

Unfortunately for you that woke Eleanor and she started to cry as you jumped at the door slamming. You stood up and grabbed her and started to bounce her in your arms trying to calm her down.

“It’s okay,” You cooed as she continued to cry and scream in your arms and it seemed as though the bouncing didn’t help your stressed baby.

As you were about to check her diaper in case it needed to be changed, you felt something wet on your chest and you immediately knew what it was. You hadn’t breastfed Ellie since early this morning and your breasts were full, when Ellie started to cry it usually happened. Instead of checking her diaper, you would try to check and see if she’s hungry first, and since you’re already ready for it, might as well take advantage of it.

Sitting down on the couch, you lifted your blouse up and since you decided not to wear a bra that day it was a little more easy but it ruined your shirt and hopefully you could get Ashely to find one.

Settling Ellie in your arms right near your primed nipple she immediately latched, and since your breasts were full it felt like relief as she began to drink from you. You supported her head as you leaned against the comfy couch, she squeezed the fat of your breast as she suckled the milk out.

It would normally hurt due to her pinching but since you were in a relaxed state you didn’t really mind. As she began to relax, you began to as well.

You looked at your baby as your chest was filled with so much love, that you would have never felt for anyone else. You probably wouldn’t feel this amount of love for anything or anyone else that enters your life again.

And you were perfectly fine with that.

“Ashley I’ve been fucking looking for you every-,” Homelander cursed as entered the room with an angered expression on his face but it turned into a confused one when he saw you.

God this was the most embarrassing moment that would ever happen to you, you knew you shouldn’t be ashamed of breastfeeding but this was America’s most beloved supe and when he looked angry as well.

Homelander averted his eyes so they weren’t trained on you. He was angry when he was looking for Ashley and expected to find her in her office but who the fuck were you and he didn’t want those old thoughts to come back. But he couldn’t help it as he saw the scene unfold before him.

“I’m sorry Homelander-sir I was ju-,” You began to say as you stood up and turned around so he didn’t seem as uncomfortable. It was obvious due to his stature stiffening as he entered the room and you didn’t want to do that. As you were speaking though you were cut off by him.

“Who the fuck are you,” Homelander snapped as he looked at you as you turned around. Ellie was still at your nipple, and you didn’t want to remove her from it as she seemed very hungry so you did what you thought was best.

“I’m Y/N Ashley s-sister,” You muttered and stuttered as you stared at the wall and began to force your body to relax so it would freak out Ellie.

Homelanders gazed at you even more confused. He didn’t know Ashley had a sister or even a niece for that matter. But he couldn’t deny that you were pretty, beautiful even and he didn’t know if that was due to your actual look or what you were doing.

Ellie decided that she was full as she removed her mouth off of your nipple and you used one hand to pull your shirt down, so you could turn around to face Homelander.

“Like I said I’m sorry about that, I was here to see my sister and she rushed out and Ellie started crying and when she does that, this happens,” You say looking down at your shirt. “And I thought I was alone and-and she was really hungry and I’m just sorry,” You quickly said your apologies, god this day couldn’t get any worse could it.

“No worries,” Homelander waved it off and put on his smile. “It’s natural right,” He nodded and pointed to the baby.

You visibly relaxed as he said that. He wasn’t angry with you, it would’ve been horrible if America's strongest supe was angry at you for a normal bodily function. But he did seem kinda uncomfortable you would say, his smile didn’t reach his eyes but it was better than his eyes being red.

Meanwhile Homelander felt his mind swarm with thoughts about you already and he just met you. He was about to say something but Ashely walked in the room with a shocked expression on her face.

“Sir I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Ashely breathed in deep as she had a somewhat scared expression on her face as she looked between Homelander and you. She was lucky that Homelander didn’t melt your face off as he saw you there and she let out a sigh of relief.

Homelander gave you a wary look and you took that note as you put Ellie in her stroller.

“Don’t worry Ashley we can meet up later,” You gave her a reassured smile. “Nice meeting you,” You gave Homelander a quick smile as you exited the room and felt your body relax that you were out of that awkward encounter.

Although Homelander had already set his eyes on you.

Later that night Homelander found out where you live through the tech department as he could get any one of those people to give him anything.

All day he had been thinking of you, his thoughts were all surrounding you and he tried to shake it off as attraction, which was definitely a part of it but he knew a part of it was due to your milk filled breast. He couldn’t help wanting to find you and just watch you.

As he stood on the building across from your tiny apartment, he used his x-ray vision to see what you were doing. It seemed like you didn’t have an exciting night but what he saw was certainly exciting. You were using a breast pump to get the milk out for the baby. The TV was playing but he didn’t pay attention as his cock throbbed his pants.

You looked pretty tired though, must be due to that baby and you were already dozing off catching yourself multiple times. His thoughts trailed off as he wondered what it would feel like to be doted on by you. If you would praise him and let him get a taste of what he actually wanted.

Homelander knew he was becoming infatuated with and some part inside of him was perfectly fine with that. He would find a way to see you again, even if he had to scare it out of Ashley or find out where you worked and “accidentally” bumped into you. It didn’t matter what he had to do, and what lengths he would reach to get to you.

He just couldn’t wait to see you again and wondered if you’d bring the baby, he hoped not but if so that would be totally fine as long as he got to see you.

Taking a deep breath as watched you and his body was filled with arousal and he knew you were already a part of his life for better or for worse. Probably a better for him and unfortunately worse for you.

[elphael]

Curiosity question if you don't mind from a newbie dm. How do you deal with tpk as a dm ? Where you super stressed as it was happening or was it ok cause you could communicate with the players ?

this is the first time i've ever had a tpk happen. several things happened and several things contributed to the way i ran things and why i think my players are okay with the outcome and i'll talk about them now. some of these i think are tips that can be applicable to dming, some of them are just personality things, and some of them speak to group synergy.

i know this party well. i know the PLAYERS at this table that i was doing this campaign with well and we know how to communicate, 3/4 of us dm for each other and we are all typically good at knowing what each other will enjoy

we communicate well, even if it takes a minute out of session. for example, in another game we play where i'm a player some of the decisions i was making as my pc were bringing down another player, and while we all agreed at the start that it was okay, things changed, and so i changed the way i was playing my character and they're swapping out their pc for awhile to play a different character.

i think it's important to note with the two examples above, your mileage really will vary when it comes to communication with other people because one's capacity for interpersonal communication has nothing to do with their enjoyment of the game. likewise, you might have great friends but realize you don't enjoy playing d&d with each other. things happen.

i think something any ttrpg player can keep in mind is that just because you like someone doesn't mean you like playing a 4 hour board game with them once every two weeks and viceversa. just because you get along to play a game doesn't mean you need to be best friends with someone you don't feel that close to outside the game.

some actual thoughts of mine regarding tpks and what happened in session that i feel like made it a successful session instead of something that felt horrible and unfair

i did not make the encounter with the goal to kill my entire party or even to kill one of them. i wanted a hard fight, cr is hard to balance, usually you have to punch way above your party's weight class to have a fight feel scary and challenging. that is what i was doing. the fight was very winnable. it just came down to roll of the dice. i think they could've taken them down but that's just not the way it turned out. the encounter itself did not feel hopeless, that is important. the alternate to this is i am not against, as a dm, flagging that a fight IS hopeless and that the party should flee. that is run very differently than how i ran this encounter, i was not signposting for them to run, i thought they would win.

when the first player dropped and then rolled a nat1 i asked them this: by raw this is failing two death saves, however, if you want this to be an automatic death you can choose that. i do not want to choose for you, i want you to make the choice that is fun for you. pc death is not fun unless you have fun with it. and then to keep a bit of mystery, i direct message'd them where i thought we could take their pc's story if they died / what the 'resurrection quest' could be. the player ended up deciding that auto death could be fun.

at this point, i did not know that i would successfully knock the other two players. and when it became clear that i could and was on the cusp of it, i asked them both something similar. do you both want to roll death saves and fight to the last breath or do you want to die. here's what will happen. they were excited by the death option.

my players chose to tpk. their characters did not, narratively they did not, the challenge was fair but hard and they failed narratively. failure should never be the end and should not be a punishment. the story moves forward. i presented an idea for where the story could go from the failure and they were enthusiastic about it.

after session i also checked in with the group and said, hey if you get second thoughts about this let me know and we can retcon that fight. i do not want to play a game that is not fun for you. as it stands now, they're all really excited about the idea of clawing their way back from the grave whenever we pick up a new story arc with those characters again.

and that's really what it boils down to for me as a dm whose spent a lot of time as a player in the game. pc death is not fun unless the player is excited about it. if they aren't okay with it, it will not be fun for anyone involved.

the game is about roll of the dice, the game is about story, the game is about mechanics and challenges and puzzles, but most of all it is about having fun. so if something is not fun, you don't have to do it.

i could talk forever about how i feel like there are some dms who take so so much pride in their intricate plots and ideas that they keep secret to their last breath without actually collaborating with their players which i think is actually a detriment.

[anonymous-dentist]

roier cubito’s lore is the most subtle thing in the world and I love him for that yes it's cool to see all the full out drama stuff that a lot of other people get into but roier’s lore feels so very real to me in a way where other people's feels more like a, idk, like a theatre play, an event to go see and get excited over that's big and flashy and fun but ultimately ends before moving on to the next thing, and then the next thing all over again. roier meanwhile makes heartbreaking throwaway references while decorating the world's most cursed bathroom that seem out of no where but really really aren't because those heartbreaking references are the entire reason he's trying so hard to distract himself decorating the world's most cursed bathroom in the first place. idk i like how so much of the interpretation job is left up to the viewer, and how the things he doesn't say matter just as much as the things he does. or this might just be the stockholm syndrome talking seeing how I have to watch an entire 3 to 4 hour long stream just to get the world's smallest crumbs of lore, answerer's choice

I legitimately think that qRoier is one of the most realistic and accurate depictions of depression I’ve ever seen. Because he’s. Just a guy.

He’s happy! (he can’t sleep because he’s imagining his family dying)

He has friends! (they all left him)

He has a family! (it’s just cellbit left, everyone else is dead)

He’s fine! (he spent his entire irl stream break after bobby’s death canonically laying in that swimming pool and not eating and trying to drown)

And the best part is? Everyone’s always fallen for it except for qCellbit, and that’s the way Roier likes it. He keeps his cards close to his chest, it’s safer that way. He loved once, he got stabbed in the back. If he lets himself be happy, he’ll just be sad again. But if he’s sad, then he’ll. Die.

It’s a testament to how good of an actor ccRoier is to pull this off, but I think everyone who’s watched any clips from his Chafaland series knows this. He’s good, and everyone’s starting to realize that now and that’s awesome