#we think we’re safe and then all of a sudden

[i-dont-r3member]

This might be unpopular but I think it would’ve been absolutely HILARIOUS if TOTK had just one (1) guardian just chilling in the depths or smthn

[lowkeyren]

reverse dating tropes w hsr men!

in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist

featuring — boothill, jing yuan, blade (separately) x gn!reader

✧.* — wc: total 1.5k, used up half my brain for this (the other half is for pt2 w aven sunday geppie!!), lovesick boothill + clingy jy + jealous blade fr, anyway pls enjoy! reblogs r appreciated <3

gepard aven sunday vers here!

boothill ꩜ .ᐟ

love at many sights with boothill whose memory card was tinkered with, and every time you meet, he thinks he's seeing you for the first time, so he falls for you over and over again. 

when boothill returned from a dangerous mission, it was evident that he had endured significant damage. his once sleek and polished exterior was now marred by dents and scratches, and his mechanical limbs were either partially missing or severely damaged. the exposed wiring, usually neatly tucked away beneath scraps of metals, now hung in tangled strands, sparking occasionally with residual energy.

he looked barely salvageable. it's safe to say that the mechanics had a hell of a time fixing him.

though they were skilled enough to piece him back together, his memory card wasn’t as lucky. a tinkering in his system left him incapable of recalling or retaining information in his synthetic brain, temporarily —leaving the mechanics scrambling to find a solution.

weeks later, you find yourself walking down the familiar corridors of the laboratory where your favourite cyborg is being held for reparation.

boothill’s eyes immediately land on yours when you enter the lab. “well ain’t this a surprise! haven’t seen ya in a good long while.” boothill drawls, tipping his hat your way, his voice carrying a metallic twang. 

"i heard you took a bit of a tumble, figured someone should come make sure you didn’t lose all your screws." you shrug nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips.

boothill's eyes flicker for a moment, taking in the curve forming on your lips. he thinks you’re adorable with that infectious smile of yours. 

“heh, nothin’ bad, just had a r-r-run in with some cuties" he says, failing to hide the glitch that caused his voice to stutter. (and that damn synesthesia beacon! he swears he’ll get it fixed this time around…)

“guess you took more than a tumble huh...” you lean casually against the workbench, the sterile scent of machinery and the hum of various devices filled the air; your gaze sweeps over the freshly repaired parts of boothill's metallic frame, “anyway, glad to see that you’re mostly fine now." 

“aww! do ya care ‘bout me?” he teases, his grin widening, revealing his pointy teeth peeking out mischievously. you don’t reply, your eyes glinting with the faintest hint of amusement dancing in them.

"boothill, we go through this every time, your memory card's still damaged. you forget things sometimes, so for the 5th time this week, yes i do care about you.”

boothill's expression shifts, a mixture of realization and sheepishness crossing his features. "right, right," he murmurs, scratching the back of his head with his metallic hand. "sorry 'bout that, sugar. guess i just keep forgettin'."

you chuckle and shake your head, finding the situation amusing. he feels like he might overheat from the sheer warmth radiating from your smile.

“you’re beautiful, date me.” (he didn’t mean to blurt that outloud)

you raise your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, “why thank you,” a surprised laugh escapes your lips.

“—and we’re already dating, silly.”

a shower of sparks erupts from his circuits, you can particularly hear the fans inside him sputter and whir. you rush to his side, concern etched on your face.

“wh- are you okay?! you’re short circuiting again!”

and this happens every time his memory lapses. you offer an apology to the mechanic on the next shift for the extra work required to fix yet another damaged wire after your visits. perhaps they should ban you from getting too close to boothill, lest he completely breaks down again like that one time where you told him, yes you actually kissed before.

jing yuan ୭ ˚.

"secret relationship" with jing yuan but he is completely unaware of how his public displays of affection towards you keep revealing the supposed secrecy of your relationship.

on the rare case that the general is found in his office, you are there too, beside him.

“pleeeease? just one kiss, really really miss you, darling”

“no jing yuan, not now…”

he wraps his arms around you as he leans in, caging you from the back. he rests his chin on your shoulder, “then how about a kiss on the cheeks?” he murmurs in your ear. you try to push him away, but he just chuckles softly against your neck, his arms still secure around you.

“no, and get off me before someone sees!” you protest, feeling your face flush from the close proximity, and the tightening of his arms suggests that he has no intention of releasing you just yet.

this stubborn man… you swear you’re gonna burst a blood vessel someday.

as if to echo your exasperation; he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, peppering it with nibbles and gentle kisses. jing yuan certainly knows how to test your limits, yet his affectionate gestures never fail to chip away at your resolve.

suddenly, a series of loud knocks come from the door, you freeze, and immediately attempt to wiggle your way out of his grasp. but he remains unfazed, his hold on you firm, and seemingly unbothered by the interruption.

the door bursts open, “general! there’s a situation at starskiff ha—ven...”  yanqing trails off as his eyes widen at your position. the room falls into a momentary silence as yanqing's gaze shifts between you and his general, his expression reflecting a blend of shock and embarrassment.

clearing his throat awkwardly, yanqing stammers, "i-im sorry for interrupting... i’ll t-take my leave now!” with a hurried nod, he practically sprints out of the room.

oh bless that kid’s poor eyes… 

you shoot a glare at jing yuan from the corner of your eyes, you just know that he has a shit eating grin on his face right now. nowadays, it’s probably common knowledge that the general’s most treasured person is you, evidently shown by how he latches himself onto you every time you’re within his vicinity. you wouldn’t be surprised if the entirety of xianzhou knows about your supposed “secret” relationship.

“so… can i have my kiss now?” 

aeons, he’s insufferable. (you love him tho!!!!!)

blade ؛ ଓ

"fake dating" with blade but you are actually dating —somehow everyone is convinced you aren't.

“blink twice if you need help.” march whispers-shout; dan heng leans against the doorway, blocking the way into your room, nods in agreement.

“this is absurd… i’m alright guys, really!” you try to reassure your friends, frustration edging into your voice. though no matter how many times you insist that no blade isn't holding you hostage and that you are indeed in a relationship with him, they seem convinced otherwise, somehow deducing that you're not able to speak freely.

you sigh in resignation, knowing that they aren’t going to relent anytime soon, and with blade idling in your room, you can't afford to keep him waiting any longer. “dan heng please, let me through, he’s been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes now…”

“good, let him wait.” dan heng responds curtly. (what a guy)

march takes hold of your hands, “do you owe the stellaron hunters something, and him out of everyone?! he looks scary…and totally not your type!” 

“not their type?” a low voice rings out from behind dan heng, the three of you turn immediately and see blade looming at your doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“stellaron hunter. stay back.” dan heng furrows his eyebrows, his stance defensive as he pulls out his weapon, positioning himself to block you and march. sensing the growing tension, you step forward, reaching out to gently grasp at dan heng’s shoulder. 

(blade’s expression darkens at your hand resting on him)

“it’s okay dan heng, he means no harm.” dan heng hesitates, his grip on his weapon remains tight, but he doesn't move to strike. so you slowly move between him and blade, “see? i’m fine… he’s not gonna hurt me.” you smile reassuringly at your friends. 

just then, as if to further aggravate dan heng, blade settles his hand on your waist. dan heng’s hand is visibly twitching now. “what? can’t i touch what’s mine?”

dan heng’s eyes narrow, “...we still don’t believe you, leave now. before it’s too late.”

before you can interject, blade grabs your chin, silencing any words of protest with a sudden kiss. caught off guard, your eyes widen as the unexpected gesture leaves you momentarily stunned. but you soon reciprocate his kiss, his intensity drawing you in.

(march quickly covers her eyes with her hands)

“there. now leave us alone.” and with that, he pulls you into your room, slamming the door shut behind, pinning you against it. 

it’s just the both of you now, finally.

“did you really have to touch him.” his voice tinged with possessiveness. “blade, he would’ve hurt you, i didn’t mean—” he shuts you up with another kiss, more desperate this time, welp guess you’re stuck with him for the night.

though your friends might not believe that a person like you would “be in cahoots” with someone as dangerous as him; convincing them otherwise is a task for another time. tonight, he wants your attention focused solely on him, and him only.

✧.*

masterlist gepard aven sunday vers here!

[risuola]

▶ MOM ISSUES — late night talks, cuddles and lots of theatrics. that's what living with your boys mean, but your mom seems to see it a little differently.

contents: college+roommates!au, sa/domestic violence mentioned (it has nothing to do with the story, but it's a warning nonetheless) — wc. 800

a/n: there it is! i've been thinking about this story for months, drafting dozens of scenarios and finally it's happening! this series will be made of short pieces about three best friends turned roommates that slowly realize there's more to it than just friendship. it's not gonna be chronological, more so a series of random moments from their adventure - in the masterlist i'll try and organize it in an order, more or less. also, as you read it, can you hear Suguru's nagging voice when he calls Satoru's name or is it just me?

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

First thing you learned at the beginning of your university journey is that no amount of sleepovers and cuddles could ever justify sharing an apartment with two grown ass men. To your mom, at least, because once you told her that you and your two best friends – Satoru and Suguru – are going to live together, there’s not a single phone call that goes without her assuming you’re being regularly subjected to domestic violence and sexual harassment. They are men, she always tells you and it’s been long since you’ve given up any attempts to tell her otherwise. They were futile after all and what surprised you the most was that your boys are no strangers to her.

With a low grunt you made your way above Satoru’s ass and dropped onto the mattress in the middle. Both men shot you a short glance before resuming their things – the white haired one was playing a game on his phone and the brunette was reading a book.

“How’s mom?” Gojo broke the silence, cutting the thick tension around you with his voice. “Still convinced we’re fucking you dumb every night?”

“Satoru–“ Geto was quick to nag his friend and his manners (lack of them, actually), and the other one didn’t skip a beat before defensively asking “what?”

“No, it’s fine,” you sighed, covering your face with your hands, hoping to squeeze out some stress out of your head that way. “I can’t believe it. She knows you two for over a decade and it’s only now that she’s absolutely convinced I’m being abused even though she knows I’m safe with you.”

“She used to feed us cookies and now what?” Satoru gasped, his theatrics reaching a critical point as he dropped his phone onto the pillow and fake-sniffled dramatically, clutching the fabric of his white shirt over his chest.

“Do you want me to give her a call?” Suguru offered, now focused more on you than on his book. He reached to you, pulling your hands away from your face and brushing some stray hairs away from your forehead. There’s a delicacy to his movements, a subtleness that the other one of your friends lacks and you’re yet again made aware of it, when Gojo throws his arm over your middle, pulling you towards his body as if you weighted nothing.

“No, Sugu, it’s pointless,” you replied, exhaling deeply and patting the strong grip away before it got a chance to suffocate you. The very aggressive cuddle only got more intense and for a brief moment you thought Satoru wanted to squeeze you out like a toothpaste. “Besides, we all know that whenever she talks to any of you, she’s as sweet as honey. It’s only me who has to listen to her weird assumptions.”

Gojo scoffed and giggled at the same time, a huff of air brushed against your cheek as he nuzzled his nose right next to your temple, threatening to bite your cheek. “Told you she’s gonna get addicted to criminal podcasts when you were introducing her to Spotify and you didn’t listen to me,” he said in a light tone and the few seconds of silence that followed made your heart skip few beats. Any sudden loss of words is always a bad sign when it comes to the blue-eyed princess. “Does your mom know about our sleeping situation?”

“Oh god, no,” you whined, pushing his face away before his teeth sunk into the flesh of your cheek that he always insists, reminds him of mochi. Sugar addict.

“Should I accidentally send her a selfie with our bed in the background? On the group chat?”

“Satoru.” Suguru grunted, nagging again and visibly reconsidering all the life choices that led him to being friends with Gojo. You knew that look, you saw it many times over years of friendship with them.

“You can do that, Toru,” you replied, your tone dead serious. “But if you dare, I will change my number into yours in her phone and you’ll be the recipient of the shitshow it will cause. And you know the hell will break loose.”

“Throughout heaven and hell, you alone will be the fucked up one,” Geto mused, pressing the dark red, hand-painted bookmark that you gifted him a year prior, between the pages of his book, ultimately deciding that it’s enough of reading for today.

“Point taken, no pictures then,” Satoru hummed and nodded once, ignoring the obnoxious insult and he let go of you, suddenly not overly dramatic anymore. He got back into indulging his phone-gaming addiction.

You let out a small sound of resignation and helplessness and crawled underneath the sheets. Suguru soon joined you on the pillows and as you quietly chatted the time away, Gojo fell asleep, nuzzled between your shoulder blades.

[homestylehughes]

wanna bet?

quinn hughes x fem!reader

summray: you make a bet with quinn, which of you will win?

wc: 2.9K

warnings: nsfw 18+ smut, unprotected sex, p in v (practice safe sex guys!), oral fem receiving, spitting, cussing, dirty talk. there's some plot but it's mostly smut.

an: OH BOYYYYYY... i'm a little nervous to post this... GULP. it's my first time writing smut, so hopefully you guys all enjoy!! it took me like 4 hours LOL! writing smut is hard guys... thank you to all of my smut writing warriors. ALSO i tried my hand at making a header for my work, i kinda like it?? i cant tell if i ate or not..LMFAO. anyways im done yapping. like and reblog if you like, as always much love as always.

happy reading <3

“We should make a bet.” I say to Quinn as we’re getting ready for a home game between the Canucks and Winnipeg Jets. 

He looks at me confusingly as he finishes tying his tie in the mirror. “What kind of bet are we talking about?” he mutters back. “I don't know, something spicy and fun '' I say, as I make my way over to him to fix his crooked tie. 

“Hm..i like the sound of that” quinn says, as he rests his hands on my waist pulling me closer to his body.  I chuckle at his sudden change in interest, finally fixing his tie, I rake my eyes over his face. 

“I have an idea,” I say as our eyes remain locked, “and what's that baby?” Quinn says, I can feel his gaze now locked on my lips. 

“If you score tonight, i'll let you do whatever you want to me.'' I say, as I slowly trace my hands around his neck to play with his hair, leaning my body further into his. “if you don't score, i get to do whatever i want to you, but you can't touch.” 

I can feel quinns breath hitch in his throat, as I press myself completely against his front, planting soft kisses down his neck and across his jaw. His hands moving from my waist, to my ass, griping is hard and pulling me even tighter against him. 

Quinn tips his head down to try and connect our lips together, I quickly move my head to avoid his kiss. “How do those conditions sound?” I say, looking at quinns now flushed state. 

“They sound really good, baby, they would sound even better if you'd let me kiss you.” he says, slowly moving our faces closer together. 

I slowly shake my head no, as I pull myself apart from him. “ I have to finish getting ready, and so do you.” I say, while looking at a wide eyed, flustered quinn. 

“You actually hate me, don't you?” Quinn says, looking at me, still wide eyed. “no i don't, i just like making you suffer.'' I grin back at him. 

“So are we shaking on this?” Quinn says, finally collecting himself. Without a word I held my hand out to him, waiting for him to grasp it. Our eyes are locked, as Quinn pulls his arm forward, his hand finally finding mine, pulling it into a firm handshake. “you're on Hughes,” I said to him. “No you're on, I'm scoring tonight, just for you baby '' Quinn says grinning at me like a kid in a candy store. 

I step forward and press a sweet kiss on his lips, pulling away before he has the chance to deepen it, “may the best man win” i say before turning away from him, to finish getting ready. 

I'm nervous, not for the game, but for tonight. My nerves are getting the best of me as I sit in the stands waiting for the puck to drop. My eyes follow Quinn as they warm up on the ice.

 I'm starting to think I'm a dumbass for even betting on this. Quinn is super competitive, he's not going to let me win, but damn do I want to win. 

Pushing those thoughts to the back of my head, I settle in my seat, gaze locked on ice as the first whistle signaling the game has begun goes off. 

      This is going to be a long game, a long night, I think to myself. 

The Canucks win in a shutout, 5-0. I couldn't be more proud of them as they skate off the ice. Most importantly I couldn't be more proud of myself for finally winning a bet against quinn. 

They played an incredible game tonight, with 5 amazing goals, not none of those coming from quinn. I couldn't help but secretly be happy that he didn't score. 

I leave the stands and make my way towards the locker room, waiting for Quinn to finish up with getting ready and press interviews. Around 45 minutes later, I see Quinn make his way towards me. I open my arms to him, grasping him in a hug, “good game baby” I say to him as he pulls away, whispering a small “thank you” in my direction. 

We start to make our way to the parking lot, silence surrounds us, it starts to make me nervous. “Any updates on Thatcher?” I ask, who went to the locker room during the second period, with an injury. “We don't know too much right now, hopefully we get some updates tomorrow morning on his status.'' Quinn says as he throws his bags in the back seat of the car, before sliding over to open the passenger door for me.

 “Hopefully he’s okay, I'm sure he is. He's a tough guy, keep me updated when you get any information." I say to Quinn, as he's pulling out of the parking lot. “I will.” he says shortly. I frown at his shortness, in the conversation. 

“Are you okay?” i ask him quietly, “yeah, im okay.” he replies back quickly. Not wanting to push, I decided that's a good enough answer, keeping my gaze locked on my lap the whole way home. 

The car comes to a stop, signaling that we made home. I quickly got out of the car, wanting to escape the tension that was starting to suffocate me. Unlocking the door quickly, speeding my way upstairs to the bathroom, not even looking back to see if Quinn was behind me. 

Closing the bathroom door quickly, I take a deep breath to regain my thoughts. Is Quinn mad at me? Is he upset over Demko? Upset that I won the bet? Upset that he didn't score? I don't want him to be upset with me, especially over this, this was supposed to be hot and cute and now i feel like it's blown up in my face. A bet that I don't even care about at this point. 

5 minutes later, after I've calmed myself down. I see Quinn on the edge of the bed, when I open the bathroom door. Taking another deep breath, I start to make my way across our bedroom to the closet. As I'm beginning to pass the bed where Quinn sits, I feel him grab my leg, pulling me back towards him. 

My nerves are rising again. I'm now in between Quinn's legs, looking down at my feet as I wait for him to say something. I feel his hands run up my thighs, gripping them with a slight pressure. Trailing them higher on my body, over the Hughes jersey that covers my upper half. Quinns hands, finding their home on my waist, for the second time today. 

“Baby, look at me,” Quinn says, gently but with authority. I slowly lift my head up to lock my eyes to his. “I think we have a bet to take care of.” he says to me, my brain doesn't even register what he just said to me, before i start speaking. “are you mad at me? I feel like you're mad at me. We don't have to do this, it's just a bet it doesn't really matter to me Quinn. I thought this was a good idea earlier but now i dont think it's a good idea. I know you're definitely mad at-” 

  I'm quickly cut off by the feeling of quinns lips on mine. Taking me by surprise it takes my body a few seconds to respond. Once I do, my hands are instantly finding his hair, as Quinn pulls me down so I'm now straddling his lap, our kiss getting more intense by the second. 

I began to grind myself on his bulge that I felt growing beneath me. Quinn begins painting beneath me, his mouth opening enough for me to slide my tongue into his mouth, pulling myself into him. Our mouths began to fight for dominance. Our bodies move against each other at a faster rate. Quinns hands pushed my waist hard against his, causing me to moan into his mouth. 

Quinn pulls back suddenly, causing me to wine more. “Does it look like I'm upset with you baby?” he asks me as he starts to suck on my neck leaving kisses in his wake, causing me to arch my back closer into his mouth. Pulling away from my neck, looking at each other as we’re both panting. “I was acting like a sore loser” quinns says while rubbing slow circles on my thigh, eyes still locked with mine. “I don't like losing, and I really don't like not being able to have my way with you, not being able to touch you.” he breathes out at me. I'm struggling to find my words while he's looking at me like that. 

“Quinn. I don't care about this stupid bet anymore, I want you now." I don't even wait for him to respond to me before I'm crushing our lips back together. The kiss is hot, with need and want. Our teeth and tongues clashing together. 

I find the will to pull myself off Quinn, now standing in front of him. Without saying anything, I began to peel off my clothes. Pulling off the jersey, leaving me in a black lacy bra, and my jeans. Quickly moving my hands to my jeans, unbuttoning them quickly, pulling them down with my underwear, kicking them off my feet. Reaching behind me and unclasping my bra. Leaving me completely bare in front of Quinn.

“I want you naked, now.” I say to Quinn, who moves in supersonic speed pulling off his clothes and throwing them somewhere behind me. 

“Fuck baby.'' Quinn says as he's pulling me into him again. “You look so hot right now, all for me too.” tracing his hands down my bare sides, causing my skin to erupt in goosebumps in his wake. 

Leaning forward he begins to press kisses against my stomach making his way down to my pussy, my breath begins to hitch, I'm afraid my legs are going to buckle beneath me. “Can I taste you baby? I want to taste your sweet pussy,  haven't in so long.” he says, as he slowly pulls my thighs apart. I can't find it within me to stop him, I don't care about the bet anymore. I need him to do something. “Yes please” I told him. He doesn't need to be told twice. 

Quinn quickly throws me down on the bed, my body making a small thud as it hits the bed. Quinn immediately pulled my thighs apart so he could rest between them.

 I'm knocked out of my daze, as I feel Quinn start to press kisses on the inside of my thighs, my breath is beginning to quicken again. “Look at me baby” he says, as he lifts his head to reach my eyes.

 I crane my neck to meet his gaze. Getting a good look at him, pupils blown with lust, his lips swollen and red, hair a mess, seeing him in this state turns me on even more. 

“Please Quinn,” I yelled out to him, shifting my body closer to his face. I need something, anything. ‘So impatient” Quinn chuckles, as he leans in closer to my pussy, so close I can feel his breath fan on my folds, causing me to slowly moan. “Keep your eyes on mine or I will stop. Got it?” he roughly says to me, nodding my head yes quickly. “Words baby” he says, “yes, yes quinn” i say urgently. 

Before I know it his face is diving into my cunt, his tongue instantly finding my clit, making arch my back into him. “Fuck” i say in a strangled moan, as my hands find their way to quinns hair, pushing his face deeper in my cunt. 

His tongue is lapping me up like a grown man starving, his hands are pushing my legs so hard and so far apart it almost hurts, but I can't find it inside me to care. His pace began to quicken, pushing his tongue in and out of my cunt. “Who got you this wet baby?” he mumbles into my heart. “You! Fuck right there baby” i moan out, as quinn slowly pushes 2 fingers in. 

The pressure is beginning to build in my stomach, between quinn fingering me and lapping and sucking on my clit is enough to push me over the edge. “Harder, faster, fuck quinn.'' I managed to push out, his actions now becoming faster and more aggressive than before. 

Before I realize, my peak is coming. My hips grinding themselves on quinns face,  desperate to cum. “That's it baby, there you go.” he says, as i begin to push myself on his fingers deep inside of me. Moving his thumb to now, rub my clit at a fast rate. “fuck quinn im coming” i push my head flat against the pillow as my body archs into him. “Fuck, don't stop. Quinn please don't stop, please please” i began to blubber out as i began to cum all over his fingers. Continuing to grind myself against him, taking anything that he’ll give me.

Quinns hands keep my thighs from closing shut and he removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue. Riding me through the last of my orgasm. My moans and pants are filling the room, my breath leaving my lungs as I finally come down from my orgasm. 

Quinn slowly pulled his face away from my heat. “That was the hottest thing, ive never seen, fuck” he says before making his way on top of me, his lips finding mine. 

Wrapping my arms around his neck pulling his chest to mine. Our bodies rocking together, “quinn” i say breathless, as his tongue is attacking my neck, moving his mouth lower down my body. Grasping my left nipple in his mouth, gently biting it, then releasing it into his mouth, wrapping his hot tongue around it. The action causes me to moan loudly, pushing my already close body even closer, if that's even possible.

As good as his assault on my boobs feels, I need him inside of me now. “Quinn” I say firmer this time. Pulling his face to mine, “ i need you to fuck me now, please now” i say panting in his face. 

That seems to flip a switch inside of quinn, he's quickly lining up his cock, with my entrance, slowly pushing himself into me. Quinn goes as he fully enters me, our eyes locking for a quick moment before I lift my head to bring myself to his lips. This kiss is different from the others, love and passion filled, a kiss that isn't rushed. “Can I move baby?” quinn asks from above me, “yes please fuck me” i pant back into his mouth, bringing our lips back together again.

Quinns hips quickly snapping against mine, pulling out fullying before pushing himself back into me. The quick motion caused the both of us to moan loudly, “harder” I moan out to him. “You want me to fuck you harder baby?” Quinn says back to me. To answer his question I push my hips up to meet his thrusts, quinn moves one of his hands from my waist to my right leg, and pushes it above his shoulder. the new angle, hitting a depth i didn't know was even possible. Fucking me at a pace so good, that i didnt want him to stop. 

The sound of groans, moans and our skin meeting and slapping together fills our room, our bodies slick with sweat. My eyes flutter open meeting quinns eyes, as he fucks me so deep and so good, my mouth is hung open but no words are coming out. 

Grabbing my jaws he leans down and spits into my mouth “swallow” he orders, his eyes still locked with mine. I do as he says, swallowing every last bit.

“Fuck you’re so hot” quinn moans at me, as he continues to fuck me. “More more '' I moan loudly at him, Quinn then pushes both of my legs on his shoulders. Fucking me so deep i can feel him in my stomach.

“Im gonna cum, baby” Quinn breathes in my ear, his face dropping to my neck as he picks up his pace. I feel the familiar burn build up in my stomach again. “Don't stop, im almost there please dont stop” i wine at him urging him to go even faster. 

Grabbing our headboard, using more strength to push himself harder into me. One singular snap of his hips causes me to cum. “Quinn quinn, im coming fuck fuck fuck” i moan loudly. “come for me baby fuck” quinn says as he continues to fuck me though my orgasm. 

“Im cumming” he sputters out, his lips finding mine. Our bodies move together as we’re coming down from our highs. 

My legs slowly come down from his shoulders, Quinn slowly pulling out of me, wincing as he does. Collapsing beside me, our chests falling and rising together, pants fill the room still. I turn my body to his hand tracing his chest and neck. Pushing his hair that's fallen in his face back. Quinns arms circled around my waist pulling me closer to him. 

“So much for the bet huh?” he says while laughing, pulling me in for another kiss.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Loose Lips — Part Two (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Finally got round to writing a part two to this after a sudden burst of inspiration. Here is Part One if you missed it.

This isn't proofread, so sorry if it's a pile of dicks. Enjoy!

Warnings: smuttysmutsmut 🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

The forest was undoubtedly beautiful. A place of sure serenity. Somewhere you’d always found peace.

Right now, you felt like nothing short of a thunderbolt in its flawless midst.

You shifted on your feet for what felt like the millionth time, pressing your back against a tree and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t be able to relax until this meeting was over with.

Rhysand’s violet eyes flicked over you, and he frowned. “Are you alright? Why are you so restless?”

Because we’re here to meet with Eris and the last time I did that I somehow, kind of, maybe ended up fucking him—

“Fine.” You quickly answered. “Pain. My cycle is coming.”

Rhys’s eyes softened. “We’ll make this as quick as possible. Once the prick actually deigns to show up.”

You didn’t have a shred of doubt that Eris’s tardiness was deliberate — a power play. And he could play all the games he liked, so long as he kept his damn mouth shut.

As if you’d summoned him with a thought, the Autumn male appeared out of a chill-kissed breeze, his crackling-fire-and-cinnamon scent enveloping you. You tried desperately to block it out — and the sinful thoughts that accompanied it. Of bare skin. Panting breaths. Moans—

“Afternoon.” Eris smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. He offered Rhysand a cursory glance before turning his attention on you. “You’re looking radiant today, Y/N.”

You pursed your lips. Kept your mouth shut. You weren’t getting into it with him — weren’t giving him any ammunition to spill the truth of what had transpired a month earlier.

His lips twitched as he studied you. “What, no smartass response?”

“Cut the shit, Eris.” Rhys rolled his eyes. “Share your information so we can get out of here. We don’t wish to be subjected to your tedious company for any longer than is necessary.”

He cocked his head, and you hated that you noticed he’d cut his hair since you’d last seen him. “Do you not like my company?”

You knew his words were directed at you. He’d come here to play games, and you were having none of it. He allowed his gaze to linger on you for a second longer before turning to your High Lord.

“Well?” Rhys cocked an eyebrow.

Eris folded his arms. “The King of Hybern…”

You didn’t allow yourself to hear the rest of his sentence. For the first time in your career as Rhysand’s courtier, you tuned out, taking in none of the information that was being given. You didn’t hear a word of their discussion as you stared fiercely at a fallen leaf on the ground. You couldn’t.

Because it tortured you on a daily basis that you knew what the redhead’s voice sounded like when he was falling off that precipice into blissful release. The way it had hitched when he’d groaned deeply and spilled into you. It was all you could think about, and you couldn’t bear it.

Guilt had eaten away at you ever since. Guilt and regret. You should never have given yourself to Eris fucking Vanserra.

You only felt safe enough to tune back in when Rhys turned his gaze on you. He gave a subtle dip of his chin, and you returned it — the signal the two of you shared when you’d gleaned useful information to tuck away.

Never mind the fact that you didn’t have a single clue what that information may be.

“Alright, then.” Rhys spoke tersely to the Autumn lord. “Keep me updated. I’ll be in touch when I next need to meet with you.”

“Will it be you, High Lord?” Eris’s lips turned up. He glanced at you. “Or her? I must say, I find her far more appealing to look at.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise. Something to look forward to in your sad little life.” Rhys turned to you, holding out a hand. “Ready?”

You shook your head. “You go. I promised Madja I’d collect some herbs for her while I’m here.”

A small, pathetic part of you wanted to beg Rhys to stay; to keep you company and not leave you alone with Eris. But he was a busy male — far too busy for the drama you’d created for yourself. You plastered a smile on your face.

“I’ll see you at home, then.” He smiled. And without a goodbye to your tentative ally, he disappeared before your eyes.

Eris smirked as he turned to you. “And then there were two.”

“Leave me alone.” You pulled your foraging knife out, turning on your feet. You didn’t look back as you began to kick through leaves and twigs.

But, of course, he was hot on your trail. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody who made you cum not once, not twice, but three times.”

You clenched your jaw, ignoring him as you knelt down in front of a cluster of plants. You would do better this time. You wouldn’t allow your mouth to run you down a path you couldn’t come back from.

He didn’t make it easy, though. Not as you tried to focus yourself solely on gathering the herbs Madja had listed. Despite the lack of conversation — or even acknowledgement of him — Eris pressed himself against a tree and watched you, absentmindedly cleaning his nails with the point of a dagger.

How could you ever have fallen into bed with him? You were such a damn idiot, risking everything for a few fleeting moments of passion. You tucked the herbs neatly away, pushing to your feet and brushing dirt and leaves from your breeches. You turned—

And stopped as Eris appeared in front of you. He smirked. “I’m still waiting, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For you to thank me for not spilling your dirty little secret.”

Prick. You shoved past him, ignoring his warmth, his scent.

He was at your side in seconds. “Aren’t you so relieved that I didn’t slip up and tell Rhysand about your little ride? I still could.”

Every last drop of your sensibility fizzled out. You couldn’t stop yourself from rounding on him. “Are you truly in a position to be threatening me? Both of us fucked up that night. What do you think Beron would have to say if he found out you’d bedded someone from the Night Court, of all places?”

“My father doesn’t care who I bed. I’m free to do whatever I please, so long as it doesn’t distract me from the ultimate goal.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

His amber gaze glittered, catching the sun. “World domination.”

You rolled your eyes. “How very cliche.”

You made to push past him again, to get the fuck out of there, but his hand was suddenly gripping onto yours. In seconds, he had you pressed against the body of a tree.

You clenched your jaw. “Get. The hell. Away from—”

The remainder of the sentence didn’t have a chance to so much as form as Eris’s mouth found yours.

The press of his kiss was hot and needy, and as his lips moulded with yours, he groaned.

It was that action that made you realise just how little space existed between your bodies. His hips were pinned to yours, keeping you in place, and the warmth of him seeped into you as your breasts brushed his chest. Within seconds — mere seconds of him kissing you — you felt him harden in his breeches. His groan seemed to vibrate through every part of him and into you.

And then he was tearing his lips from yours. Staring down at you. “Fuck, you taste amazing. I’ve thought about nothing but this,” he rolled his hips against you, making sure your attention went exactly where he wanted it, “for over a month, now. Tell me you’ve been just as crazed.”

You had been. Perhaps more so. But you swallowed. “I can’t.”

That didn’t deter Eris from slanting his lips over yours again. His tongue swiped out, brushing against the seam of your lips, and you were powerless against your need as you opened your mouth and allowed him to dip in.

You gasped at the first taste of him; something cool and crisp and smoky. And you knew you were done fighting, telling yourself you didn’t want this, as you grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him more firmly against you.

He grunted as the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against your stomach. His lips slid from yours, dragging slowly over your cheek, and then the cut of your jaw, down to your neck.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He panted, pressing quick, chaste kisses to the hollow of your throat. “Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, knowing there was no chance in hell of that. “No.”

And that single word — as much as it pained you to say it — dragged such a delicious, guttural noise from him, that you forgot entirely about who you were and why this was wrong. Nothing else mattered in that moment other than what Eris was doing.

Your mouth went so very, very dry as he pulled away to meet your gaze. And then lowered himself to his knees before you.

He was utterly uncaring of the dirt and leaves that stuck to his breeches as he clasped your legs. And the hard press of his hands felt scorching through your own pants. You wouldn’t be surprised to find that he’d turned the clothing to mere ash he dragged his palms up the backs of your legs and cupped your ass.

“You’re fucking mouthwatering.” He dipped in, pressing a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. “I need to taste you.”

“Holy gods.” You cursed, your head falling back against the tree. “Do it, then.”

Like a male entirely starved and desperate, his nimble fingers moved to the buttons on your breeches, making quick work of getting them undone. The second they were loosened enough, he yanked them down with a feral command that had heat rushing between your legs.

And he could scent that. You knew it. He inhaled deeply, and his responding moan was sinful.

“This is wrong.” Your voice was weak, useless, as your head fell back.

“So wrong.” Eris hooked his fingers into the thin waistband of your undergarments. Tugged them down..

You made no move to stop him. “And stupid. And selfish. And—”

Your words turned into a moan as he dipped in and dragged his tongue up the very centre of you.

A satisfied grunt left him, and he lifted your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. It had you at a better angle, closer to him, so he could feast on you.

And feast, he did.

His mouth and tongue were renowned for wielding wicked, barbed words, but this was a different language entirely. His fingers dug into your legs as he buried himself between your thighs, licking and lapping and fucking devouring. He made his way up, scraping teeth over your clit, the sensation both pleasant and unpleasant. Before you had a chance to react, he soothed over the area with the pad of his tongue, and a bolt of white-hot pleasure surged through you.

“Oh, gods.” Breathy words escaped your lips. Thank the Mother above for the mammoth tree at your back that gave you the support to move as you wished to move, undulating your hips, grinding against Eris’s face.

And from the way he growled and feasted on you harder, you knew he liked it. He was becoming coated in you, painting himself with your wetness. With the roll of your hips picking up pace, he didn’t falter once.

“Look at you.” He breathed, eyes flicking up to drink you in. “You’re a fucking vision.”

“Stop talking and make me—oh.”

Your hips bucked as he slid a finger into you, the friction of his callused skin like a sinful bite you wanted more of. You didn’t know if you vocalised that, or if Eris simply read you well, but he quickly added a second finger, pumping them in and out.

“Just as you felt around my cock that night.” He panted. “Squeezing me like that.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair, needing to just…to just grab onto something. He seemed to like it as you pulled, and he thrust his fingers faster in return.

“I’m going to make you come on my fingers.” His tongue stroked at you. “And again on my cock.”

Somewhere, some steeled part of you wanted to give a smartass retort. But you were far too gone, splintering into tiny shards of pleasure against that tree. There was nothing, in that moment, besides the sensations Eris Vanserra dragged from between your thighs. No long-lived feuds or tentative alliances or right or wrong.

It was just him. His fingers. His tongue.

And it sent you hurtling right off that blissful cliff edge into release.

As you came, you thought you maybe shouted loud enough to frighten the birds from the trees. Your pleasure was a fearsome force as it stormed your body, your mind, your soul, until you weren’t sure who you’d be without it. How you could survive not experiencing this weightlessness again.

And Eris…he seemed to enjoy your pleasure as much as you did. Even though his cock strained through his breeches, touched by nothing but torturous fabric, his tongue and fingers continued to guide you through your climax, and he peppered in filthy, scandalous words that you were far too fractured to make sense of.

Until he pulled back to look up at you again. “I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you.” He said.

You weren’t sure you could deny, any longer, that this truly had been going on for that long. It didn’t start with that one night of bad decisions driving you into bed with him. It had been years and years of thinly-veiled threats and barbed words and insults and vitriol soaked in lust.

Every bit of hatred you’d ever directed at each other had been to try and avoid this — giving in to a carnal need that had existed between you since the first ever time your eyes had met.

You knew you didn’t have that strength, that resolve, anymore.

“I need you inside me.” Your voice was rough, raw. You reached down, shamelessly yanking Eris to his feet by the fabric of his jacket, not caring that your desperation showed. “Fuck me.”

You wanted it — him — hot and hard and fast and certainly not gentle. You wanted the bark of the tree biting into you as he pounded you from behind. You wanted him roaring as unguarded as you had.

“You’re a little brat.” Was all he responded. And then he was kissing you again.

You allowed him the control of your lips as your fingers tore at the front buttons on his breeches. Nothing was moving fast enough, and you were hot all over, desperate to feel him pulsing deep inside you—

Y/N. I need you back here.

Rhysand’s voice in your head was akin to be plunged in ice-cold water. Damn daemati. You froze in place, your hands falling still.

Eris didn’t seem to notice as he kissed his way along your jaw.

Y/N. Rhys spoke into your mind again. Get back as soon as you can. Need to discuss Azriel’s report.

You sucked in a breath, planting your hands on Eris’s arms. You pushed him off you. “I have to leave.”

He paused, surprise crossing his face. “What?”

“I can’t — I’m needed back home.” Clarity was dawning on you more and more, paired with guilt. You’d fucked up again. You tried to shake the feeling off as you yanked your underwear and breeches up in one go. “I can’t do this.”

“Seriously?” Eris cocked an eyebrow. “You’re leaving now?”

It was an effort not to glance down at the very unsatisfied bulge still pressing through his breeches. “Rhys just spoke into my thoughts. He needs me back.”

“How convenient.”

Of course he didn’t believe you. You had to admit, it didn’t look great — getting an earth-shattering orgasm out of him and then leaving.

But perhaps it was a blessing from the Mother. Perhaps she was stopping you taking it too far a second time.

“Believe what you want.” You pushed past Eris, buttoning your breeches up. “I answer to my High Lord first and foremost.”

“Go running back to him then.” Eris shrugged. And if you weren’t mistaken, you thought that a strange quality lay in his tone. Perhaps hurt, or…or jealousy. “He says jump and you say how high, right?”

“You have your High Lord, Eris,”  you smoothed over the wrinkles in your clothes, “and I have mine.”

He pressed his back against the tree, watching with an unreadable expression as you checked yourself over.

And then the corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’ll be back, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “That is a very, very bad idea.”

You winnowed out of there before he could respond.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo being your enemy (or lover?)

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: Your family told you over and over, pounded it into your head since childhood: Satoru Gojo is your enemy, you are simply not allowed to feel anything but hatred towards the Gojo clan. But why do you find yourself lost in his arms each and every night, begging him to love you right?

Warnings: mentions of smut, it's getting heated (intimate touching) but not "real" lol, language

Finally, my first fic after quite some time! Let me thank every single one of you for your patience and sticking with me, I'd be more than honored if you show some love 🤍

„There you are, I searched everywhere for you.”

Just the sound of his melodic voice sends shivers down your spine, makes you break out in sweat. God, it should be forbidden to be this gorgeous, it shouldn’t be allowed for a man to be this charismatic. But oh, Gojo Satoru is. And you hate the way you feel about him.

“And I avoided you as good as I could.”

But at the same time, you can’t keep your mind off him, can’t keep your hands to yourself, can’t stop yourself from shamelessly staring at his delicious jawline, can’t control the urge to get under him. His body pressed against yours, skin to skin while he whispers the filthiest thoughts into your ear until you scream his name into the night.

“You know we’re alone, right?”

The raspy tone in his voice makes your eyes dart up in an instant. You know all too well you shouldn’t even look at him, that you need to keep your safe distance. Why is it so damn hard to resist him? The curse of your family, the enemy of your bloodline. Your family and the Gojo clan hated and fought each other since the beginning of time, making your whole childhood consist of nothing but hatred towards their golden child. But that golden child circles around you like a hunter around its prey, takes off your clothes with the sheer force of his bright blue orbs alone.

“We shouldn’t be.”

Your mouth is dry like the desert, the overwhelming feeling of losing your consciousness eats you up alive. It’s so wrong to stand in front of him, to let him linger over you with his much taller frame. Gojo Satoru is your worst enemy, the one and only thing your family warned you about. Why is it so damn easy to fall head over heels for him?

“You know you can leave anytime. I’m not forcing you to stay with me. But if you do you won’t regret it.”

You swallow down the lump building up inside your throat, doe eyes fixated on his dangerous ones. If they’d see you here, only inches away from the greatest member of the Gojo clan, you’d be screwed to infinity.

“We can’t do this anymore. We’ve already crossed that line way too often. You and me, we are…”

“Enemies, lovers? It’s completely up to you, (y/n). I couldn’t care less about my family’s opinion-“

“You should care, though. Our lives depend on it”, you reply urgently.

“Don’t you know who I am?”

His deep chuckle almost sends you over the edge, the way his eyes linger over you makes you hold your breath. That way too confident bastard who thinks the world belongs to him exclusively, who thinks he’s a god walking on earth. How much you hate his cocky smile, his immense powers, his arrogant appearance. Somehow your family is right for hating him, somehow you get why they want you to stay away from Gojo Satoru.

“You’re an arrogant bastard”, you bite back.

“Watch that mouth, (y/n). Why are you still here, huh? Feel free to leave if you wanna get away from me so bad.”

Your heavy breaths hang in the heated air between both of you. Just one stretch of your finger would be enough for your fingertips to brush over his broad chest. Just one touch would be enough to light the fire between both of you again. Why do your hands start to shake all of the sudden? Why is your heart almost beating out of your chest?

It’s because of him.

“Leave”, you press out while moving an inch forward.

“Just leave and never come back.”

“Or what?”, he breathes out, caging you between the cool wall and his burning body.

Get yourself together, think about your family. Gojo Satoru is your enemy despite being a jujutsu sorcerer as well, you aren’t allowed to even talk to him, you should leave right here and now, you-

“Fuck”, you hiss through gritted teeth before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you roughly.

You press your lips against his as hard as possible, teeth brushing over each other, making your lips swell in an instant. His strong arms are immediately wrapped around your frame, keeping you in place while he teases you with his tongue. Without mercy, over and over. You can’t catch your breath, hands searching for hold on his shoulders.

“I hate you”, you jeer against his parted lips before wrapping your legs around his hips.

“Oh yeah? Then let me show you how much I hate you as well”, he bites back, kissing that sweet spot on your neck that makes you see stars.

You can’t help but moan, press yourself even harder against the growing sensation in his pants, digging your nails into his uniform. God, how much you hate that guy. You shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t let him come near you, shouldn’t allow him to even touch your body.

Suddenly his hand wanders down your body, further and further until he cups your crotch roughly.

Fuck.

This feels so good.

No, it feels so bad.

“S-Satoru”, you whimper softly.

Your melodic voice sounds like music in his desperate ears, makes his skilled fingers pick up their pace in an instant. Oh, how precious you look with your eyes rolled backwards into your skull, how well his name suits your filthy little mouth.

This. This is right where you belong. Between his arms with his hand between your thighs.

“You like that, huh?”

You press your lips together and close your eyes, try to escape the sensation that builds up inside of you. No, you shouldn’t feel this good, you shouldn’t let him have this much power over your body. Screw Gojo Satoru and his skilled hands, screw that bastard for always making his way into your pants.

“Hell no I don’t.”

“Is that so?”, he teases.

Roughly, he snatches his hand away and cups your cheek, forcing your glossy eyes to look up at him. He looks absolutely delicious with his hair being a wild mess and his puffy lips ready to get kissed again.

No.

You shake your head, avoid his gaze. This is wrong. You shouldn’t even be here. If you leave now and go back to your apartment, you are able to pretend that none of this ever happened. Yes, Gojo Satoru will be nothing more than a comrade you have to endure, nothing but a plague in your life. Everything will turn out alright if you leave right here and now.

But your hands still hold onto his shoulders for dear life, you still whimper softly with every breath you take, your heart still races in desire. Fuck, why is it so hard to let go of him?

“I give zero fucks about our families hating and fighting each other. I want you and nothing else, you understand? We don’t have to do this in secret, you don’t have to pretend that you hate me while you don’t. I want you, (y/n). And I need to have you.”

You hate the way his words make shivers run down your spine, how your heartbeat picks up in an instant. The thought of having him alone is enough to almost send you over the edge. But oh, how could you forget his reputation with women, the things you’ve heard from Shoko? You are nothing but a trophy for a man like him, nothing but a price he hunts after.

You take a deep breath in and out, tame down your beating heart. He might be hot, but he’s still your enemy. Don’t forget where you came from, don’t let yourself fall because of a man.

“You only want me to brag about it. I’m not just one of your many toys, Satoru. And I’m too good to be yours. I’d rather keep you as my enemy.”

With a swift motion, you free yourself out of his grip, remove your touch from his burning skin. Fuck, should you turn around and fall back into his open arms, let him fuck you until you see stars like usual? As much as your body begs you to stay, as much as you miss his touch, you can’t.

After all, Gojo Satoru is your enemy, right?

…Right?

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82

[slickfordain]

POOKS I HAVE AN IDEA

Ahem...yandere aiden, logan, tyler n ash or whoever u want w WEAK READER N YK THEY R PRETTY OVERPROTECTIVD OF HER WHY? bc she is fragile af-- always manage to get herself injured in the most dunb ways possible n how tf is she gonna manage to survive in this realm? She needs them ‼️‼️

𝕭𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 // School Bus Graveyard

TW: Yandere themed, NO NSFW, gore/injuries mentioned, fragile!female!reader who is paranoid and anxious, AU explanation-wise writing? It’s kind of short but it’s like an explanation what my SBG x reader AU is;;u ;

You don’t know how you even ended up here in this situation…. Restless sleep, insomnia, hallucinations,— Ah… Who am I kidding? You knew exactly what was happening and it all started way back when you were ordered to tutor around the new students. Being the one who wasn’t new, it was hard to keep a conversation with them because….. One would keep her distance away, one would be thrilled to nag the girl who distanced away, the twins didn’t give a damn, and… Ben and Logan were probably the only ones who ever offered to listen to you.

However despite those hours you eventually got to bond with them, all because of… Well…. You tripping down the stairs all of the sudden until Ashlyn caught you. And that’s where the spark happened… That’s what clicked in Ashlyn’s mind to suddenly want to protect you, with you in her arms looking hopeless and defenseless. The group claimed you as their pink princess but, you didn’t thought much of it….

And why they even bother to call you that, you still felt loved at least by your friends.

But… Every time you walk home after hanging out with them, especially on that trip, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The thought of that hideous creature behind Ashlyn…. You haven’t left your house since then, and gave excuses to your teacher even for him to understand.

You’ve never felt anything weird like this before… The ones you are looking to avoid were mostly creepy men, or just in general a group of people who you think could possibly bully you, or take advantage.

So why? Why did you suddenly have to endure horror?

❝[NAME]!!!❞

You’ve impaled yourself on accident by trying to get away from a monster, you’ve tripped and fallen into a dark void where you died by the fall, you even somehow died by trying to save Tyler, but you ended up dying anyways! It was getting so… So much harder…

You’ve gotten injured. Over, and over, and over again. It’s pissing Ashlyn, Aiden, Tyler— everyone off. It was as if they saw life flash before their eyes…. And while you’re alive in the real world, with no scratches or injuries, they couldn’t afford to lose you again. To make you hopeless, to make you unable to walk.

It was another dream, another dream where suddenly you’re locked in the bird cage Aiden had somehow decided to buy… You stared confused, yearning for an explanation…. But the boys and girls wouldn’t give you any.

❝Guys..? Please… I thought we were a team..❞

❝Princess… We are! We swear…! Please don’t take it badly! We’re doing this for your own good…❞

You couldn’t really argue with them. You’re just tired and you have been unable to get proper sleep… You suppose it’s okay but… It wasn’t getting better as you thought it would. Despite dreams having you only locked up every now and then, in the morning in reality- you are FOLLOWED constantly by either the twins, Ashlyn, Aiden, or Ben… Logan? Probably cameras in your house (not your bedroom or bathroom) to ensure you made it home safely.

It’s getting out of hand. It’s going bizarre, but are you doing something about it? NO! Their parents scares you! You don’t want to break your friendship either… You knew how easily broken they’d be… And… You don’t want to handle or deal with Aiden’s family, nor do you wanna karate with Ashlyn’s mother. You can’t even fight!

So the only thing you could do was just… Accept it as it is. And let it be… Although you probably aren’t aware that the parents adores you, finding you so sweet and matchable for their little children. You don’t pay attention to that, all you could focus on were your eyebags and your injured body…. There wasn’t anything, reality-wise, but God it stung that you could barely make it through school. Even though I kind of said you give excuses…. You still had to do exams for at least collage….

Don’t take them wrong, they’d love for you to stay safe and to not join the horror attraction… But also, after the reveal when the parents could also see the demonic creatures, it instantly clicks that you weren’t safe. Nor were your parents. (Don’t give a damn about your parents, they don’t like them)

They need you. They constantly need you. They can’t have you out of your cage, but they can’t have you out of the dreams as well…. Which considers leading it to having you as some sort of a motivation. They need you to support them for everything they do.

So when the parents are going into that situation, it’s best to believe they NEED you with them so nobody in reality can kidnap you while they’re asleep…. Fighting off monsters, you know?

And the shady guys? Do not worry a single thing about them at all.

I mean, what more could you possibly do than to be stuck in your own bedroom or classroom? You’re going nowhere near the stores or arcade. Not after that Logan incident, that is….

[shitouttabuck]

this could be the year for the real thing

buck/eddie | 1.7k | 7x06 coda(ish)

Eddie can count on one hand the number of times he’s been this horrifically hungover. His pre-teenage-pregnancy body bounced back blessedly quickly from tailgate parties and keg stands and beer pong tournaments, but after that? His cousins threw his bachelor party before he married Shannon, which involved a lot of mixed liquor, and then there were a couple miserable nights out after she left him, and now, last night, him and Buck the sole bachelor party members standing after Chim didn’t show up.

This is his worst hangover, because at least all the other times he wasn’t seized with worry about one of his closest friends and regret that he and Buck hadn’t noticed the empty hotel bed the night before. The nausea from hell doesn’t help, either.

Chim’s safe now, under the careful monitor of Cedars hospital staff and Maddie no more than three feet away from him at all times. The relief is a palpable thing, and Buck offering him a steaming paper cup of green tea soothes the churning in his gut a little bit, too.

He takes a sip and sighs gratefully, slumping against Buck in the hospital waiting room chairs when he takes the seat beside Eddie.

“Still queasy?” Buck asks, voice a rumble.

“Mm,” Eddie says, “back-to-back shots of tequila and sambuca are not it.”

Buck shudders beside him. “Don’t,” he begs, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. “I’m still very much in range of hurling.”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Eddie’d only managed half a banana when he went home to shower and change, but he knows Buck’s been with Maddie most of the day, and when it comes to taking care of other people, he sometimes forgets about himself.

“Had a granola bar,” Buck says, eyes still closed. “Can’t—don’t wanna think about food yet.”

His stomach chooses then to grumble audibly, with traitorously comedic timing, and Eddie snorts. Buck opens one eye to grin at him.

“Don’t listen to her,” he says, patting his belly. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“She doesn’t, huh? Then I guess she’s not interested in stopping by the juice bar on Sunset on the way home? Some sweet, sweet smoothies, all that fresh fruit and hydration, don’t even have to chew…”

Buck’s stomach rumbles interestedly and they both laugh.

“That sounds—so good, actually,” Buck admits. “We can pick up the peanut butter one for Chris, he’s always hankering—”

He breaks off as Hen appears at the end of the hallway, looking around and hurrying over as soon as she spots them. Eddie doesn’t think anything’s wrong—she’s beaming—but he and Buck sit up quickly in their seats anyway.

“Ugh,” Buck says, and Eddie’s dizziness at the sudden movement wholeheartedly agrees.

“We’re having a motherfucking wedding,” Hen grins, tugging them both to their feet, uncaring of their delicate dispositions. “Right here, right now.”

“Hospital wedding?” Buck asks, eyes wide. “Holy shit, okay, what do we need—who do we call—fuck—”

“Calm down, Buckaroo,” Hen smiles. “Just get friends and family over here, Karen’s gonna pick up Maddie’s dress, I’m gonna call Bobby, and we’re having a wedding.”

Buck’s already pulling up a copy of the guest list on his phone, squinting at it and muttering names under his breath.

“You boys got this?” Hen asks while dialling Bobby.

“Yep,” Eddie gives her a mock salute. “We’ll split the list and make some calls.”

He types out half the names Buck reads off to him in his notes app, and the two of them work through them methodically, calling Chim and Maddie’s nearest and dearest for this impromptu ceremony.

“Chris will kill us if he misses it,” he says suddenly, and Buck looks up at him, mid-text.

“He’s with Isabel, right? Pepa’s place is only a ten minute drive from here.”

Eddie nods. “I don’t have my car, though. You drove me.”

Buck tosses him the Jeep keys. “I’ll finish calling people, you go get them.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, and nearly bodies himself with the instinctive urge to lean over and kiss Buck on the cheek as he stands. It’s surprising, even though it shouldn’t be, because it’s an urge he fought and failed about thirty times last night, Buck’s sweaty skin pressed to his, salty under his mouth every time he dropped an innocuous, friendly kiss to his face with nothing but alcohol in his veins.

It hadn’t seemed out of place then, everything shiny and bright, Buck leaning right back into him.

Now, under the fluorescents of the hospital, organising a makeshift wedding for their family? Eddie doesn’t think it would land quite the same.

“Back in twenty,” he tells Buck instead, and has to physically tear himself away from the smile Buck turns his way, warm and golden under the harsh lights.

Chris and Abuela are delighted to be included, and, true to his word, they’re back at the hospital as the rest of the guests begin arriving, too.

Eddie’s—okay, he’s not going to say he’s not a crier, it’s just that his best friend is Buck, who cries at anything remotely tearjerky, so in comparison, Eddie’s not a crier. Now, though, they’re both very much damp-cheeked, much like everyone else crowded into this hospital room, watching Maddie and Chim exchange rings and vows with little Jee between them.

They’re a family, have been and would still be even if they never got hitched, but the fact that Chim refused to wait another few weeks, another few days, another minute before marrying Maddie? Eddie’s chest aches in the best way, and he slings an arm around Chris, and, before he knows he’s doing it, he looks for Buck.

The ceremony’s over, and Buck’s grinning at his phone, and Eddie pats for his own automatically, anticipating a goofy text.

But Buck’s edging backward, slipping out of the room, still grinning at his phone, and the ache inside Eddie spreads like an inkstain, blotting his insides.

And then Buck reappears with Tommy, which Eddie knew he was going to do, because who else would have Buck smiling at his phone like that, leaving his sister’s wedding even for a minute. Not me, Eddie doesn’t think. He doesn’t.

He’s not ready to make sense of the churning inside him—he doesn’t think he can blame the hangover for this one—when he clocks Tommy’s soot-stained everything and the way Buck’s own smudgy face matches like a puzzle piece.

He sees the way Chim notices, and Hen and Karen, Bobby’s eyes going wide and then soft. He sees the way Margaret Buckley doesn’t even attempt to school her face into anything but distaste and he hates her, but Buck’s not even looking at her. He’s looking at Bobby, and then he’s looking at Chim, and he’s smiling, this wide, guileless spread of happiness across his face.

Eddie’s helpless to smile too, the churning too complicated to parse beyond easy joy at every step of Buck’s sexuality journey, and this second-hand relief he’s not sure he’s got any entitlement to—he doesn’t, does he? Sure, he can be relieved that Buck doesn’t feel like he has to stay closeted, that everyone who matters loves him just the same, but he doesn’t get to feel like any of the relief belongs to him. Not now.

Not—yet.

Tommy’s made his way to Chim’s bedside to congratulate them properly, and Buck’s squeezing through the guests to get to the Diazes.

“Hey, bud,” he says to Chris. “Hi, Isabel.”

His face is still a smear of soot, and Chris giggles. “Buck. Your face.”

Buck frowns in confusion and Eddie steps over to him, hand already reaching to wipe the soot off his face, just like he has a hundred times at work. Except Tommy’s already there, licking his thumb and rubbing firmly at Buck’s chin, a gesture so familiar to Eddie that watching it happen separate from him feels like getting punched in the throat.

And beside the joy and the second-hand relief, there’s—this sense of profound loss. This emptiness, a space inside him he didn’t realise Buck had been occupying all this time. And now it’s like Eddie’s entered the room, finally, but the door is swinging shut on the far wall and Buck’s footsteps are echoing softer and softer as he leaves. Eddie’s late, he’s missed something he didn’t know was waiting, much less had a timeline on it.

The room empties out slowly, everyone giving the Buckley-Hans some space to rest, and Buck disappears down the hall hand-in-hand with Tommy.

“Y’all ready to go home?” Eddie asks Abuela and Chris. “We can get take-out.”

“Is Buck coming?” Chris asks.

“Uh, I don’t think so, mijo,” Eddie glances down the hall. “Although—” he pats his pocket, retrieving the Jeep keys, and startles when Buck appears by his shoulder.

“You have my keys,” he informs Eddie, stretching his hand out for them. Eddie drops them in his palm dutifully. “Juice bar? The fancy one on Sunset.”

Chris whoops excitedly, and Eddie smiles, even as his brow furrows.

“You’ve not got a hot date?” he asks Buck quietly as they walk to the exit.

“I drove you,” Buck shrugs.

Eddie rolls his eyes, stopping Buck with a hand at his elbow. “I think we can manage getting a cab.”

“I seem to recall you promising me a ‘sweet, sweet smoothie,’” Buck says, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. “You tryna stiff me, Eds?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie lifts his hands in surrender. “Uh—do you wanna ask Tommy along?”

“Nah,” Buck says easily. “Maybe another time. He’s just gotten off shift. I’m seeing him tomorrow, anyway.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods slowly, ache bittersweet. “Just us, then.”

Buck beams. “Me and my boys,” he crows, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him forward so he can wrap the other one around Chris. Isabel makes a noise of offense, and Buck hastily amends, “Me and my boys and Abuela. Dream team!”

Christopher groans at the very public embarrassment and Abuela smiles indulgently at Buck and Eddie lets himself get pulled along, safe in this room in his heart that won’t ever be empty, even if Buck’s not filling it in the same capacity as Eddie’s getting ready to allow himself to want.

It doesn’t matter. The door on the far wall’s not quite swung shut after all; it sits ajar, crack of light and Buck’s love spilling through. Maybe one day he’ll come back through it. Maybe one day Eddie’ll follow after him enough to ask.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mentions of abuse, anxiety / paranoia, etc. words -> 2K

abstract -> Everything was lie... did I become who I hate?

y/n's perspective

“How’d it go?” San asked me as I just got comfortable in his arms.

“You shouldn’t get too comfortable, you need to get out of these clothes,” Yeosang said and I sighed. “You guys are watching the news?” I asked as I saw the TV on. “So far they’ve captured over eighty hybrids,” Wooyoung said and I felt disgusted that such people could do such things. “How was it?” San asked and I sighed. 

“There was this duo… one of them promised to help me if I got the circus shut down. I’ll have to do interviews and then it’s over” I said and they nodded.

“Just be careful… surely they’re being tested in which codes they’ll fit into,” Yeosang said and I nodded. I was planning on leaving when I heard a buzz by the elevator. 

“Miss l/n, there are two friends of yours wanting a visit” I heard and I was confused… Wonyoung, Johnny, and Yuta were the only ones to visit me unannounced and they were allowed up here without an announcement so who?

“We’re expecting guests?” Wooyoung asked and I was just as confused as them. “They have lots of bags and suitcases. One of them is named Zhong Chenle?” he said and I felt my eyes light up. I ran to the elevator. “Yes, let them up,” I said, noticing the three boys behind me looking confused at my sudden outburst. 

“Who’s that?” Yeosang asked and I smiled. “Some friends, who used to work in the clinic but decided to study abroad in China, didn’t tell me they got back,” I said now excited to see them but I could tell that Yeosang and San weren’t happy about them. 

“We heard you adopted three hybrids but we almost didn’t believe it” I heard and sighed at the sight of them. They carried a whole lot of bags… “I told you not to get me anything” I scolded and Chenle waved it off. “Well, you should’ve expected better,” Jisung teased. I chuckled. “Isn’t that?” Jisung wandered off while looking behind me. 

“Oh? Did they not tell you about Wooyoung?” I asked and they shook their heads. “No, but I would recognize that face anywhere,” Jisung said as I saw Wooyoung wag his tail and grow a smile on his face. 

“We thought you didn’t want to see us,” Chenle asked and he sighed. “Long story, but he’s mine now,” I said and the two laughed. 

“We’ve come to leave a few things, our dorm is getting crowded,” Chenle added and I sighed. They must’ve bought a bunch of stuff for the group… “How much?” I asked and they groaned. “You know how NingNing and Wonyoung are '' Jisung said and I could already imagine the whole bunch of text they must've sent them for errands. 

“Don’t forget Johnny-hyung,” Chenle added. “Well thanks for thinking of me, was it fun?” I asked and they grinned. “You need to see Chenle’s house” Jisung fanboyed 

“Though apparently, we don’t get a break we got back yesterday and Kun and Doyoung-hyung want us in already” Chenle added and I nodded. The circus hybrids…

“They don’t seem bad” “Hmm? They’re really nice, they bribe you with expensive stuff” I heard them whisper behind me. “Good luck! Be safe, I'll be over there soon either way!” I said and they nodded as they said their goodbyes before leaving. 

I peeked inside the bags and smiled… 

“Looks like hybrid stuff,” I said and that got the three of them their attention. 

“This is so hard to find!” Yeosnag said as he looked at the lotions and perfumes. “How’d they know?” San asked and I shrugged. One of my friends must've told them…

“Pretty” Wooyoung said as he found jewelry. Just how much did they buy for me?! I even saw expensive toys and clothes. 

San seemed to like the video games and perfumes, Yeosang found all the expensive brand skincare, Whilst Wooyoung found a bunch of toys…

I needed to get ready soon for the interviews…

“Hey! That's mine, it's in my pile!” and they are already fighting… thanks a lot Chenle and Jisung.

seonghwa's perspective

This place was… paradise and hell. I know I was lucky… while others are either being taken by facilities or breeding farms. 

Most of the hybrids were red coded and very few were black codes. I was yellow… because I behaved or I wanted to trust humans. 

I was just hoping Hongjoong was still here…

“His partner is a red code so be careful. He’s well behaved but… you can’t be too sure” I heard and I saw the door open. 

It was her again!

“Press the button if you feel unsafe at any time,” the staff member said as they left her alone with me? They never do that… Some humans have passed by to adopt and there’s always someone with them.

“Hello,” she said and I smiled softly. “Thank you… you actually went through with it” I said and she nodded. 

“Now it’s time for your part,” she said and I nodded. 

“What do you need to know?” I asked and she looked at her notebook as if seeing what to ask first.

“Let’s talk about the MATZ show,” she asked and I nodded.

“Hongjoong and I are… we’re the only tigers there. We were born there but we’re not related, they decided to pair us up as an act. They decided to make it more dangerous each show… testing our limits” I said whilst she wrote it down. I wonder what she had down… was she analyzing me? Was she even qualified to?

“Can I ask you something?” I asked and she stopped writing to look at me. “Do you own hybrids? Actually, no I know you own three, why are you helping hybrids if you own them?” I asked not wanting to be dismissive about her. 

“I do, I have a panther, a Doberman, and a fox. I adopted them here actually… and besides they didn’t have a chance to get adopted by anyone else so I adopted them to help them not because I'm a hybrid collector” she explained and I nodded. Was she telling the truth?

The interview went on about details which she left to talk to the doctor. 

“Seonghwa, on your best behavior.” I heard as I saw the employee open my kennel and put on the basic safety equipment. I was led to a different area… the red codes. Most of the kennels were glass-enclosed and so I saw a lot of hybrids staring at me with threatening glares. 

I saw her again though. She was in front of a kennel that was closed. “Behave, y/n, Kun is trusting you to be careful with him. He isn't aggressive but be careful, there's a button in case you feel that you can’t handle it anymore” the employee said as the leash was now given to her. y/n is her name… where have I heard that before?

She opened the curtain…

“Hongjoong!!” I yelled as I got close to the glass. “Seonghwa? You’re okay!” he said back and I was relieved. He’s alive… but he’s a code red. 

“What are you doing with her?” he asked as he glared at her. “She’s conducting interviews with hybrids… I actually don’t know why I'm here?” I said and she sighed. “Doyoung your doctor is worried about you guys being separated since you guys are a bonded pair” she explained.

Bonded pair?

“I won’t answer any questions from the hybrid owner,” he said and she sighed. I was curious about her hybrids… it was a weird combination and she said she adopted them here. 

“You don’t need to worry about them,” she said and he laughed at her. “They are bonded to you,” Hongjoong said and I realized he was right. She’s bonded to them…

“What did you do to have three hybrids bonded to you?” he asked demeaningly and she sighed. “That's my personal business.

Currently, I'm trying to help–” “You can’t do anything. You think if you bring him here in front of me it'll save you? If I get out of this glass cage I'd gladly get revenge for what humans did to me” he threatened and I sighed. I shook my head at him knowing I couldn’t help stop him. 

“Press your silly little button. Go home to your stupid little manipulated hybrids, I won't have to do anything cause one day they’ll turn on you. Hybrids will do anything to survive, even bond themselves to silly little humans” he said and I could see that struck a nerve in her. 

“If you comply–” “No, get that through your head. Believe it or not I am behaving enough to keep myself alive–” he started shuffling around showing he was actually out of his constraints. “–you aren’t safe. No hybrid owner is the cause at the end of the day we are animals. I could smell a cat hybrid on you… and a domestic one he could kill you. In your sleep or at any time, they’ll overpower you and you’ll deserve it” he said and I could see her eyes hold fear in them.

“Hongjoong stop,” I said and he scoffed. “Is she gonna cry? So sensitive… im telling the truth your firm does hybrid rights, you know the stories of hybrids killing their owners. Claws ripped the skin at their throats, cannibalistic tendencies, poison, and so much more. One day you’ll be on the cover–” She took a shaky deep breath and left… ran away. “Hongjoong that was unnecessary,” I said and he laughed. He had fun doing that… “It is the truth. You can’t deny it” he said and it was a possibility. 

“She seemed nice.. And in all honesty I'd rather be here than in that circus” I said and he laughed. “It's all the same, dear friend. Besides… “ he trailed off without smiling. 

“If she reacts like that… she knows it's true. So she isn’t the good little hybrid owner you think she is”

y/n perspective

That’ll never happen… they– everything is okay. They’re happy… but– San doesn’t like humans and didn't like me. Was it because he had to adapt? Wooyoung… he… he likes me right? Yeosang… he… did he decide to be with me because I could help him?

Not everything is real… but, San did… does hate me?

“Miss?” I heard taking me out of my thoughts. He was a man in a hat and a trenchcoat. “Are you okay?” he asked and I tried to compose myself but my eyes kept on producing tears… 

“Hey, don't cry. Please get up, Miss. You should be so vulnerable in the street there are terrible people–” I started crying more after that. Am I a terrible person?

“No no no… please don’t cry,” he said. “Miss, someone as pretty as you should be crying,” he said but it didn't help. False and empty compliments. 

Am I actually the same type of person that I expose? 

“What's bothering you?” he asked and I tried calming myself. “Is owning hybrids a bad thing?” I asked and he sighed. “Do you care and love them?” he asked and I nodded. “I just don’t think… They care for me. Hybrids will do anything to adapt and please their owners… I know that so– this is why I didn't want a hybrid! I-I… don't know what to do” I was lost. 

“Miss, please calm down. Hybrids… do adapt but you obviously care for your hybrids and I promise you, you’re overthinking. Did they tell you that?” he asked and I shook my head. 

“If you care for them so much and they care for you, that's enough. Not everyone shows kindness to hybrids” he said and I tried to stop the tears. 

“You shouldn’t be crying like this miss,” he said and I nodded

He helped me up from my crouching position and patted my head. “Someone like you should be crying like this for silly things. If you care for them this much I bet they care for you just as much maybe even more” he comforted and I smiled softly. 

“Oh did you drop this?” he asked as I saw my wallet. “Oh… thank you. I’m sorry I must've taken you from what you were doing!” I said and he chuckled. 

“No, of course not Miss. I didn’t mind, helping you” 

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[makkarisbelova]

not really sure how the mcu’s going to come together again at this point but I really want them to include mobius in the gayest and most irrelevant way. like imagine: it’s the next avengers movie. the latest avengers + whatever other superheroes they can scavenge are at the avengers headquarters discussing what to do next in the fight against kang (or whoever else it is if they switch it idk I’m not here for my logistical theorizing). all of a sudden, a security breach. someone’s at their front door, an unknown person unidentifiable to their facial recognition. this intrigues them. they let him in. he’s a man with a mustache and possibly the most non threatening demeanour one could ever encounter. he’s holding an envelope with the avengers logo stamped onto it.

they ask him what he’s doing here. he holds up the blank envelope and explains how he figured their mail go mixed up with his (he lives nowhere near them. like, in a completely different state.) this is also strange because they don’t get their mail sent to the compound. immediately they’re suspicious. especially because the guy keeps gawking at them.

“sorry,” he says. “this is pretty cool for me, seeing all of you in person. it’s kind of like meeting all of the characters from your favourite tv show, except the show is loki’s life so you all come off a little unfavourably—”

not half a second passes before thor is marching across the room and picking this man up off the ground by the neck. “loki? you know my brother, tell me right at once how you know him.”

the other avengers are trying to yank the man free from thor’s grasp. “you’ve got to keep his airway intact if you want him to explain,” the shout at thor. he finally drops him.

“my name is mobius m. mobius,” he says. “I was an agent with the Time Variant’s Authority, also known as the TVA. we were in charge of maintaining a single timeline until recently, when the man in charge of all that died. I didn’t get a name, loki only ever referred to him as He Who Remains— which if we’re being honest is much cooler, I mean he had this variant that was named victor timely but that’s just such a non-villain kind of name, you know, I just thought—”

“get to the point,” one of them demands.

“right, sorry. loki was working with us to figure out how to stop the timelines from imploding. your precious multiverse would have destroyed itself if not for him holding it together now.”

“that’s where he is?” thor asks.

mobius nods. “at the end of time. keeping every timeline intact, every universe safe. he sacrificed himself for me. for all of us.”

“you knowing loki can’t be a coincidence, you must have come here for a reason. what’s in the letter.”

“well that’s just it: I don’t know,” mobius says. “I haven’t opened it. I mean that’s still a felony on this earth, right? I just thought I’d return it. didn’t show up in my mailbox or anything either. just appeared on my front doorstep like magic.”

“not like magic,” bruce says as he opens the letter. “I think this is magic.”

thor grabs the letter and looks at it. everyone looks over his shoulder hoping to read it as well. it’s a single piece of paper with three simple sentences.

My Jane. Protect him with your life. Please.

— Loki

WOULD THAT NOT BE SO FRICKIN SWEET

[sapphire-writes]

Ch. 3: Aemond Sees A Ghost

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

summary ~ Aemond tells you everything.

word count: 4.0k

warnings: NSFW/MDNI ~ dubcon (possession), kissing, grinding, spooky stuff, thunderstorms, mentions of death, themes of loss

note: I'd say we're halfway through our spooky adventure! smh I can't believe it! I hope you enjoy loves!

banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!

“I want to know everything.”

The kettle whistles noisily before you remove it from the burner. Aemond sits in his usual spot clad in checkered pajama pants and a gray cotton t-shirt. You wonder how he isn’t cold, your bare arms are covered in goosebumps and you wish you’d grabbed a sweatshirt before leading him down to the kitchen. 

There’s a constant unearthly chill in this house. You set the tea in front of him, his fingers brushing against yours as you sit beside him. 

“Harrenhal,” he says softly, as a floorboard creaks overhead. You both glance up at the ceiling, watching as the chandelier trembles, the crystals reflecting the dim kitchen light. 

You’ve seen it happen before when people walk upstairs; when little Jaehaera runs down the hall, when workers are moving down the hallways. The hour is late now, the workers have gone home, and little Jaehaera is tucked safely in her bed. 

The floorboards above creak, regardless of the truth. 

“We’re not the only ones here,” you slowly begin, eyes falling back to Aemond’s face, “We’re not the only ones in Harrenhal. Are we?”

Aemond is silent for a moment.

“No,” he says softly, “We aren’t.”

Tea turns to coffee as the sky lightens. 

And Aemond tells you everything. 

“Ghosts,” you breathe, “But…that’s not possible.”

“It is,” Aemond insists, “There is something here. Some energy….the locals are right when they call this place cursed. Tragedy befalls anyone who holds it.”

Your skill prickles with goosebumps. Aemond holds it. What tragedy will befall him? You think of Alys, of the sudden death of his wife. 

Perhaps his tragedy has already unfolded. 

“It was Harren, last night,” Aemond tells you, “And his sons, I presume. The original manor was burnt to the bare bones after they created it. With him and his sons inside of it. A terrible fire.”

A chill runs through you at the memory.

“I’ve encountered them before. They’re rather harmless,” Aemond continues, “Simply walking the halls throughout the night. Others are not as pleasant, but…harmless. For the most part.” He pauses, glancing up at you.

The hair on the back of your neck stands at attention.

“What others?” you ask, though you’re unsure if you want the answer. 

“The ones I’ve encountered throughout my time here,” Aemond sighs, rubbing his eyes. The ring on his hand catches your eye; stamped with the Targaryen crest.

You’d see another just like it. Daemon’s face flashes across your mind.

“Your uncle was here,” you tell him, watching as his spine straightens, his shoulders tense, “He knows about them too I presume? He said some things---I’m sorry….it was when you were away, I nearly forgot-”

“What did he want?” Aemond interrupts, staring at you with a renewed fire in his eye.

“He just wanted to speak with you,” you tell him.

“Did he bother you? Was he inappropriate?”

“He was a bit flirtatious, that’s all,” you assure him, cheeks warming at the memory. 

Aemond bristles at that, his hand clenching into a fist. Your stomach flips with embarrassment, the burning sensation on your cheeks spreading down your neck.

“I apologize for that,” he says cooly, “He’s a vile creature.”

You place your hand on top of his fist, “It’s alright.”

Aemond’s gaze softens, and he places his opposite hand on top of yours. You lose yourself in the sensation of his hand on yours for a moment, a pleasant swooping sensation in your lower stomach. You hold his gaze, desire burning hot in your belly. It’s you who looks away first, feeling embarrassed about the intense longing you feel for your employer. You shouldn’t be thinking like this.

“Who was screaming?” you ask, bringing the conversation back to the ghosts.

You can almost hear it still, the sound of screaming echoing in your mind. You’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to forget, even when Harrenhal is simply a memory. Aemond only stares.

“I don’t know,” he says finally, “I’m not…sure.”

You don’t know which answer you’d hoped for but find that the one Aemond gives brings you no comfort. 

Jaehaera hates thunderstorms. 

This is mostly due to the fact that the nursery has a balcony with French doors overlooking the God’s Eye and backyard. When it is sunny, warm rays light the room making it appear bathed in gold. But when it rains, water is hurled violently against the glass echoing throughout the room.

The nursery also has a closet on the opposite side of the room; the doors are made of mirrors. The room was once used as a dance studio, you could tell the moment you’d stepped inside. The wood floors are scuffed from years of use. You can’t help but wonder who danced there.  

This is exactly why Jaehaera insisted on a sleepover in the main living room that night. She suggested it during dinner when thunderclouds were just starting to roll in and turn the sky an eerie gray color. 

“I like it,” Helaena spoke, surprising you, “Let’s have a proper campout.”

So you found yourselves dragging blankets and pillows down the stairs into the living room, assembling a blanket fort with Aemond’s help, and sitting inside of it. The small space was rather cramped with the three of you inside; baby Maelor was already sound asleep in his bassinet.

Helaena was quiet the majority of the time, besides when she was quietly humming to herself. She seemed happy though from what you could tell. As happy as Helaena could be. She always had an air of melancholia around her. 

“I have a story,” Helaena says. 

It is the first time she’s spoken that evening. Jaehaera stands behind Aemond braiding his hair as she often does. She glances at her mother, giving her a toothy grin. 

“A long time ago,” Helaena begins, her eyes looking somewhere far off, “There was a girl dressed in green locked away in a castle.”

“I like castles,” Jaehaera comments, continuing to braid Aemond’s hair.

“She was young and beautiful, and very, very sad,” Helaena continued, “She wed the king, and became a queen. It was everything a girl should want. But she didn’t want it at all.”

You watch Helaena as she taps her nails against the cup of tea she holds. They’re painted silver; Jaehaera’s doing. The paint is chipped around her thumbs already. A nervous habit you’d noticed. 

“Why not?” Jaehaera asks, her nose scrunched as she pouts, “I’d like to be a queen.”

“She was in love with the princess, you see, and never wanted the old king. But he took her anyway because that is what men in power do. They take pretty little girls and keep them locked away.”

“Did she have children?” Jaehaera asks.

“She did. Many. She loved them all dearly. Beautiful children they were, and they were all taken from her. She outlived them all,” Helaena continues, “Mad with grief, the queen locked herself away this time.”

Helaena sips from her cup, a smile twitching on her lips.

“I never understood Daisy before having a child,” she muses, switching away from her story, “Before having a girl. I hope she’ll be a fool.”

A shiver rolls down your spine as Helaena locks eyes with you.

“That’s the best thing a girl can be in this world. A beautiful little fool,” she says softly, eyes flickering toward her brother, “Mũna said the same thing once, didn’t she Aem?”

Aemond holds his sister’s gaze, “I don’t remember.”

“I’m sure of it,” she says, mouth stretching open into a yawn, “You’d read aloud and Mũna would stroke your hair. You always liked that book.”

“I like a lot of books,” Aemond says, the top of his cheeks turning pink as he reaches behind him and lifts a giggling Jaehaera into the air as he stands, “It’s late, zaldrīzītsos. Time for bed.”

“I’m not tired,” Jaehaera insists, though she echoes her mother’s yawn.  

You all exit the fort, Helaena retiring to the couch. She lays on her back, stretching like a cat. 

“Mhmm,” Aemond says, depositing her into Helaena’s arms on the couch.

He tucks them both in, turning the remainder of the lights off before joining you on the makeshift mattresses on the floor. You can only see the outline of him in the darkness; the curve of his nose, the twinkling of his eye. 

“Is Helaena alright?” you whisper, and he presses a finger to your lips.

“Yes,” he breathes, thumb tracing your lower lip, “Thank you, for doing this.”

“Of course,” you whisper, barely breathing as his finger traces down your chin, “Are you tired?”

“No,” he says softly, his hand sliding down the curve of your neck, “I’m a bit of an insomniac.”

Your breathing becomes labored as his thumb strokes your collarbone. You wish you’d worn something else, not the ratty old band t-shirt you’d chosen paired with some sleep shorts.

“Oh,” you say, unsure of how else to answer him. 

Your thoughts scramble when he touches you, as though his touch short circuits the wiring in your brain. He says your name then, so softly you almost miss it. He’s close enough to kiss, all you need to do is lean forward and his nose will bump against your own.

His hand falls from you. Eyes adjusted to the dark, you watch as his tongue darts out wetting his lower lip. 

“Aemond,” you say softly, and he reaches for you again, this time lacing his fingers through yours, “Will we be alright down here?”

His eye flickers around your face, his fingers tightening in your grip.

“I won’t let anything happen,” he assures, “To any of us.”

You choose to believe him. He sounds so certain, he truly believes it. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he wouldn’t do everything in his power to protect Helaena. Jaehaera. Maelor.

You.

You rub your thumb against the smooth skin of the back of his hand and soon your eyes grow heavy as sleep overtakes you. 

You wake in the middle of the night, closer to morning than to midnight. The sky is still black as ink, the sounds of rain splattering against the many windows. There is no room for stars, the entire night sky is blacked out by rain clouds. 

Jaehara snores contentedly next to you, wrapped up in her mother’s embrace. Helaena’s sleeping form curls into her daughter, holding her in a cocoon of warmth. Mother and daughter look incredibly alike; both share the same nose and soft pout, their fair brows relaxed in sleep. The bassinet next to them holds a sleeping Maelor, his tiny nose scrunched as he dreams. 

You sit up from your spot on the floor, looking around the dark room. It’s hard to see anything before the room is illuminated by a flash of lightning. Aemond is no longer beside you. The room descends into darkness once more, and goosebumps rise on your arms as a chill enters the room. Helaena stirs in her sleep, pulling Jaehaera closer. A mother’s unconscious need to keep her daughter close.

Lightning flashes and the room is lit once more, a shadow dancing near the stairs. 

“Aemond?” you half whisper, as thunder booms through the sky.

The thunder is not as loud as it was earlier that night; the storm must be moving out. You rise from the floor, letting the blankets fall to a pile at your feet. It’s cold, much colder now that you’re in your sleep shorts and T-shirt. You move toward the staircase, around the corner, and down toward the kitchen. Perhaps he’s making tea.

When you enter the kitchen, it’s empty. No kettle whistling, no lamp, and no Aemond. A noise behind you causes you to turn.

There’s that shadow again.

“Aemond?” you call, louder this time. A small smile appears on your face.

Could he be playing a trick on you? Nervousness stirs in your belly, and you decide to follow, exiting the kitchen. You walk up the stairs, watching as the shadow dips down the left hallway, towards his study. 

Warmth floods through you, desire lodging in your stomach. It spreads through your limbs thick like honey, like you’re floating down the hall instead of walking. Your head buzzes, thoughts fuzzy as you reach for the handle of the door, opening it. 

Aemond looks up from his papers, a surprised look on his face as you close the door, pressing your back up against it. You’ve never been here before. The room is cozy. Warm. How can it be so warm when the rest of the house is so cold?

“You were gone,” you tell him, though it's phrased more like a question.

“I told you, I’m an insomniac,” he says, the corner of his lips quirking into a smile, “Did you miss me?”

“I always miss you when you’re away,” you tell him, surprised at the words that leave your mouth, the raw honesty behind them.

Aemond’s lips part, and his lashes flutter at your confession. You walk deeper into the room, letting your hand trail across the spine of the many books that decorate his shelves. 

“You’re always away,” you tell him, tingling with anticipation, “I never see you anymore.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, as you turn to face him.

“This room,” you muse, “It’s like the heart of the house. Warm…tucked away.”

His cheeks are flushed, eyes focused on your face rather than the generous amount of thigh you’re showing. You glance down at your chest, watching your breasts rise and fall as you breathe then bring your eyes back to him. 

You walk towards him, still tracing the spines of the books that line his shelves. Your hand drops as you round the corner of his desk. Aemond has pushed himself from behind his desk, still seated in the large leather chair, his legs spread wide. His lips are parted, watching you in awe. 

“I just want you close,” you admit, stepping forward between his legs.

Aemond tenses as you place your knees on either side of his waist and straddle his lap. He groans as you sit, resting your weight against him.

“Y/N….” Aemond says, holding his hands up in surrender; he won’t meet your eyes.

You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, lacing your fingers together. 

“Don’t you want me?” you whisper, tendrils of your hair tickling his sharp cheekbones. 

Aemond looks up then, eyes meeting yours and you watch his resolve crumble. He lowers his hands to your waist, before letting them rest at the junction of your hip and thighs. The air between you is heavy, your ears are ringing as you connect his mouth to yours. 

Fire burns brightly in your chest, warming your whole body as he kisses you. He tastes just like you’d dreamed he would; spearmint and tea, and something else that is entirely him. Rolling your hips against him you grind against the hardness forming between his legs. Gods he feels big.

You moan into his mouth, your mind happily buzzing as he squeezes the swell of your ass. His kiss is like a drug, like pure heaven racing through your veins. Your limbs are heavy, thoughts scattered and hazy. 

That’s it. “Fuck me,” you whisper, nails digging into his scalp, nipping at his lower lip before sucking it between your own. 

It’s bold, it’s lewd.

It’s not you.

Aemond groans, lifting you from his lap as he stands, and places you on his desk. You continue to kiss him, to tear at his button-down like a marionette on a string. Something is wrong. Nothing is wrong, just like that.

“Gods, you’re incredible,” he breathes, and you want to scream, to tell him to wait, not like this.

Not when it's not you. Not when your body is here, but your mind is not. It feels good though, yes? The puppetmaster continues plucking your strings, making you smile coyly at him.

“My Aemond,” you whisper, hands dipping below the waistline of his pants. 

Aemond freezes, pulling back from you. You tilt your head to the side as he cups your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes. His eyes are searching, no longer clouded with lust. Your nails scrape against the smooth flesh of his lower abdomen, legs still locked behind his waist. 

“Why’d you stop?” your lips form the words, but it’s not you. 

Aemond’s face hardens, and he wets his lips as he releases your face. He brings his hands to your calves, unlocking them from around his waist. Gently, he places his hands on your wrists, removing them from his pants. 

“Alys, we’ve talked about this,” he says softly, taking a step back.

Suddenly, the feelings of sleep are greater, and your eyelids are heavy yet they remain open. You’re aware you’re still talking, still moving, but someone else is controlling it. It’s as though you’re hearing the conversation from a different room like you’ve stepped out of yourself for a moment. 

Alys. Shhhh. Alys Rivers. It’s alright. Aemond’s….Aemond’s Alys.

“But she’s perfect, Aemond,” your voice says, “And you like her, I know you do. I see the way you look at her. Touch her.”

“Let her go,” he says, voice almost a whisper, “Alys….please.”

She reaches for him, using your arms. It’s like you’re moving through molasses, though you can sense her desperation, her need for him. 

“We can have a baby now,” she insists, your voice breaking as she speaks, “One of our very own.”

“You have little Jaehaera-”

“I want my own, Aemond, you promised me!”

“That was before, Alys. Now you’re…” he lets the sentence trail off, “Things are different now.”

She brings your hand to cup your breast, and you watch Aemond’s eye flicker toward the movement.

“She’s perfect,” she tells him, “And she’s so sweet, so wet for you, my love. You should feel how much she wants you.”

“Stop,” Aemond says, clenching his hands into fists.

“She aches for you. Not just physically,” Alys insists, “I can feel it all, here in her head.”

“I said enough!” Aemond yells, followed by a clap of thunder. 

Alys doesn’t flinch, you can feel her unyielding strength inside of you. She tilts your chin higher, hand dropping from your breast. 

“She’s different than the other one,” Alys insists, “You didn’t even like that girl-”

“You’d no right to do that to Floris,” Aemond says, running a hand through his hair, “She was a sweet girl--”

“Sweet,” Alys scoffs, “Weak. You’ve gone soft, haven’t you?” She cocks your head to the side. “Do you not love me anymore?” she asks, her voice cold as ice.

“You know that isn’t true--”

“I don’t mind sharing--”

“You’re dead, Alys.”

She’s silent then, and your chest tightens with the agony she feels at his words. Aemond’s gaze is pained, his seeing-eye glassy with tears. 

“Release her-”

“I miss you,” she says, reaching for him, “That’s all. Is that so hard to believe?” She chuckles bitterly. “I just want our baby.”

“It’s not how it is supposed to be, Alys,” he says, taking the hand she offers, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re always sorry,” she says, her voice trembling, “Just give me what I want.”

“I can’t do that,” Aemond says, “Let her go.”

Alys holds his hand a moment more. You feel a tear roll down your cheek leaving a hot stream behind. Then your limbs go rigid before all the tension in your body releases. Your head drops forward, limbs sagging into Aemond’s arms.

“It’s alright,” he says, lifting you into his arms bridal style, “I’ve got you.”

The feeling of sleep is different now; you’re groggy as though you’d just woken from a nap. Leaning into his chest, you press your face against his shoulder. Spearmint, aftershave, and tea. He smells so good. Your eyelids are heavy as he walks down the hallway. You can’t hear the rain anymore. Has it stopped?

“Aem-”

“Shh don’t speak,” he says, placing you in bed. 

You’re in your room. Here already? That was fast.

“What happened?” you ask, throat raw, mouth dry.

“It’s alright,” he tells you, laying his hand against your forehead. 

You welcome the heat. You’re so cold.

“The heart….” you murmur.

“What?”

“The heart of the house,” you mumble, “It’s cold…”

Aemond pulls your blankets around you, tucking you in tightly sitting beside you on the bed. 

“What was that?” you ask, as Aemond’s hand strokes your cheek.

“It was just Alys,” he assures you.

You sit up then, the sleepiness leaving your body rather quickly as though someone had poured ice water down your back. The sheets fall around your waist and Aemond sighs disapprovingly as your eyebrows knit together. His hand falls from your cheek, resting on your bent leg. 

“Alys,” you repeat, “Your wife.”

“Yes.”

“She made me….” your cheeks warm, “Did…did we…?”

“No,” Aemond assures, shaking his head, “No we only kissed.”

You can feel him still, the ache returning between your thighs. His violet eye watches you closely as does the sightless milky one. He’s reading every microexpression on your face like the pages of a book. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Whatever are you sorry for, dōna hāedar?” he says, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“That we…that when we kissed…” you murmur, looking down, cheeks blazing with embarrassment, “That it….that it wasn’t me.”

Aemond rubs circles on your knee, watching the movement. The room is silent for a moment apart from your steady breathing. There is an ache between your eyes, deep in your skull that you’ll no doubt need to sleep off. 

“We should rectify that,” Aemond says softly, “If you’d like.”

Your lips part as you meet his eyes again. He’s watching you so carefully, as though you may run from the grounds at any moment never to be seen again. 

But you’d made your choice. And you intended to stick to it.

“Yes,” you breathe, leaning forward, “I’d like to.”

“Then it’s settled,” he murmurs, leaning forward. Your eyes flutter shut as his nose bumps against yours causing you to gasp softly, lips parting even more, “It’s only right.”

You can feel his lips against yours as he speaks; just brushing slightly.

“I agree,” you say breathlessly, and he closes the gap, pressing his lips firmly against yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck. 

Your hand fists his shirt as you kiss him, his mouth hot and greedy against yours. His lips, his perfect lips fit against yours so perfectly, and he turns his head slipping his tongue into your waiting mouth. 

Gods you want him. You want him so badly you’re trembling with need. Aemond leans forward then, pressing you back against the bed, kissing you all the while. Your hands claw at him until his hands lace through yours, pressing them back against the mattress. He murmurs your name, lips trailing down the side of your throat. Yes, yes, yes. 

“Aemond!” you gasp, pushing at him suddenly. 

He tears his lips from yours, standing immediately as you gasp for breath. The pair of you stare at each other wide-eyed, trying to catch your bearings. 

“She’s here,” Aemond says, voice hoarse.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, “It felt like she may…come back.”

“Fuck,” Aemond growls, “Fuck!”

You wet your lips, wanting nothing more than to hold him. Aemond leans against the bedpost, lost in thought.

“We have to be careful,” he says, “On the grounds. She’ll try…she doesn’t know what she’s doing.” You can hear the love he holds for her in his voice, even now. “She just wanted a baby.”

“It’s alright,” you tell him, “We’ll be careful. We won’t….” your sentence trails off. 

“Yes,” Aemond agrees, “Not long now. The house will go quickly once it’s on the market. Summerhal house is waiting for us.”

You force a small smile.

“No ghosts?” you ask. 

Aemond’s returning smile mirrors your own.

“No promises,” he says softly, “Get some sleep.”

“What about Helaena? And the children…”

“I’ll go to them,” he says, walking forward, placing a kiss on your forehead, “You rest.”

“Goodnight Aemond,” you call as he exits your room.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, the door clicking shut behind him.

You lay on the bed, your body trembling. The rain begins once more, the sound of thunder returning. It may be the rain, you’re not sure, but as you drift off to sleep you swear you hear the soft sounds of a woman crying somewhere in Harrenhal.

note: hope you enjoyed this chapter! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them).

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[letstalkaboutshtufff]

In another life pt 2

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader

Summary: A visit to Nanami and trip down memory lane

Warnings: Language and suggestive themes but only a bit lol

Part 3

****************************************************

A/N: was so overwhelmed by the amount of love I received for part one!! Thank you all so much for the support😭🩵

“This is definitely a first” Nanamis gaze travelled up and down your body.

You shuffled uncomfortably from your place on the couch. Gojo stood leaning on the wall behind you.

“Yeah I’ve been hearing that a lot today..” you sighed.

“Hmm, well from what I know. This curse has been known to travel through dimensions, which is why he’s been so hard to catch in the past. He disappeared several years ago after somehow escaping from a seal. Looks like he ended up in your universe.”

“That makes sense, it was only a couple years ago he appeared and Satoru subdued him. A couple months ago he told me he found some weird residual energy on the seal but otherwise everything was ok… I guess the theory of the spy was correct but…” you brought a hand to your chin.

“Go on” he encouraged.

“We placed three seals on them. There’s no way an amateur broke through them… I wonder if he has any clue on who it could be...”

BZZT BZZT BZZT

“Another call?” Gojo tilted his head forward.

You picked up the phone and read “Weird Bangs” well speak of the devil!

“Nope just a text.”

-Hey you ok? Satoru just told me what happened. Don’t worry, we’re investigating as we speak. We’ll have you home in no time.

You smiled warmly and replied,

-Thanks Sugu, I have complete faith in you two. And don’t worry I’m ok.

“Anything important?”

“Not really, Sugu was just checking in. By the way, is he on a mission or something? I haven’t sensed your version of him yet. Unless you don’t have a version of him which would be honestly so weird since I swear you two are like your own couple..”

Little did you know the room had gone from warm to freezing cold.

“What did you just say…”

“Huh?” You tensed seeing the mood was a bit off now.

“Wait…don’t tell me he’s…dead?” Instant dread washed over you.

“No..he’s very much alive…” (excuse me while I change the timeline a little)

“Then what’s-“ you tilted your head.

“Nanami, what can you tell us about the curse transporting other people?”

You blinked at his sudden change in topic.

“Honestly nothing.” Your shoulders slumped.

“Really?”

“Yes but I promise I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you get home safely”.

“Thanks Nanami…” you tried not to feel to sad, after all you had so many people working hard to figure it out.

“Well it’s getting late, why don’t we continue this tommorow, Nanami you’ll reach out if you find anything yeah?”

He nodded, “I’ll dig into some of the old archives, and let you know what I find.”

“Thank you Nanami” you smiled and followed gojo out of the room.

“So what now?” The sun had set and you realized that for the first time in years you were not going to sleep in your own bed, cuddled next to your husband.

“Well… I could take you to one of the spare dorms here but considering the curse is still out there I think it’s best if you stick with me”

“So back to your place?” Haha that takes you back.

“That ok with you?”

“Mhmm” not like I’m used to anything else but being with you…

“Ok then, hang on” he touched your shoulder and suddenly you were transported to a place that smelled like fresh linen and his cologne.

“Oh wow this takes me back” you flicked on the light and took in the old place.

Gojo raised a brow that you seemed to know your way around.

“I take it you’ve been here before?”

You nodded fondly while taking in the place once again, “yeah, we spent so much time here back while we were dating…I lived in a really crappy apartment that you had to bend down in.” You laugh at the memory.

You turn to look out the floorlength window and promptly scream.

“AHH is that me!?!? Have I looked like this all day!?!” You could barely see your skin it was covered in dirt and grime from the previous fight and your hair was basically inviting birds to make it their home.

“I need to shower…” ah crap I didn’t think to stop and get clothes.

“I’ll find you some clothes… the shower is over the-“ but you were already beelining towards the bathroom eagerly to wash the filth off of you.

“Right you already know… so weird” he crossed his arms.

The second the steaming water hit your body you sighed in relief. It took a good 15 minutes for the water to run clear.

Using his body wash sure took you back to the days you’d sleep over. Those days were some of the best of your life. Watching movies late into the night, eating junk food, making out, falling asleep tangled together…

You shut your eyes before the tears could come.

No, none of that, you had the best and strongest people on the case. You’d be home soon, so let’s think of this as a weird mini vacation.

After your shower you dried yourself off and peeked into the bedroom where the door connected to. Sure enough you found a set of his pjs on the bed.

His shirt engulfed you, looking more like a dress. You thought for a moment to forgo the pants but realized you probably shouldn’t go pantless and underwearless around new Gojo.

Once you were decent you stepped outside into the main living space.

A delicious aroma immediately invaded your senses.

Wait… no fricken way!?

“You cook!?!?”

“Huh?” Gojo paused to look back over his shoulder. “Of course I cook… does your Gojo not?”

“He- he tried once but burnt everything… and anyway I’m home way more so I usually do the cooking..”

“Well I hope you like seafood, I haven’t gone shopping yet so there wasn’t really many options.”

He turned back to the stove to continue stirring.

You sat on one of the counter barstools and watched him in awe.

He even has the towel thrown over his shoulder and everything...

“So tell me about other Gojo. How did you guys meet?”

“Well… actually it’s kind of embarrassing…”

“Oh well now I have to know”

“Well I was jogging by this old elementary school and this curse popped out. It was so cute tho it looked like a super fluffy puppy. And then suddenly you popped in, ready to blast it to smithereens when I jumped in front and defended it….” He paused his stirring and looked over at you again.

“Yeah I know.. it was crazy but the curse really wasn’t that bad. So anyway I picked it up and started running away from you…”

“Pfft seriously?”

“Yeah… you should’ve seen your face haha. I made it about 10 steps before you warped in front of me”

*Flashback*

“Uh listen lady, that thing your holding is very dangerous so it’s best if you-“

“No way!”

“Huh?”

“No way, he’s just a little baby, he hasn’t hurt anyone!” You hugged the curse tight to your body and for some reason the curse seemed… relaxed?

“Lady… it’s a curse.. we can’t exactly just leave it to roam free..”

“Well then….”you thought for a moment..

“I’ll keep it!”

“You’ll keep it…” he repeated to himself in disbelief

“Mhm hm” you nodded.

“Uh…” he watched you snuggle the curse closer and the curse for whatever bizarre reason seemed content.

“It hasn’t hurt anyone has it?”

“Not that I’m aware of..”

“Then it’s settled! I’m keeping him.”

“Uh…”

“Don’t worry, I have some skill in exorcizing curses if anything goes wrong but it won’t will it little cutie?” You rubbed under its chin and it started to purr.

“Ok so you’re serious…uh well here’s my number… in case he decides to turn murdery and you can’t handle him”

You smile and hand him your phone, when he hands it back you glance down and let out a little gasp.

He smirked, you must’ve realized who he was now.

“You have the same screensaver as me! I love that show!!”

Oh

“Haha well it is a good show, even if the heroine sucks.”

“What- what did you just say?! She’s the best one!”

“No way, if you ask me the best friend should be in the spotlight.”

“That snobby bitch? No way” you made a face.

“Snobby? I see it as confidence.”

“You must’ve gotten knocked in the head too many times by a curse..”

“Well it doesn’t really matter, I think she’s gonna take that job in the next episode.”

“Wait you think so? As much as I hate her, she makes the story interesting.”

“Yeah I-“ BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT

“Ah sorry hold on”

You watched him turn and take the call. Looking at him now, even without seeing his eyes you could tell he was good looking.

“Sorry, duty calls. Make sure to call me if…that thing suddenly decides to eat you ok?”

“I will, thanks”

He whooshed away and you looked down at your phone.

Satoru Gojo….

Oh my god

No fucking way…

He had the same name as your favorite book character! What a small world…

“Alright cutie, let’s get you home. I wonder what you eat?”

*End flashback*

“Don’t tell me you still have that thing?”

“That thing has a name and his name is cutie. And to this day he hasn’t hurt a fly! Well actually that’s a lie because he does eat all the bugs around the house.. but other than that he’s harmless. He does chew the furniture though..” awe I hope he’s ok..

“You’re a little strange you know that?”

“You’re one to talk..”

“Hey, you shouldn’t insult the hand that feeds you.”

“You’re right sorry chef” you bowed jokingly then went to grab plates to set the table.

“Oh I hope you don’t mind me touching stuff.” You retracted your hand afraid he might get upset.

“Be my guest.” He waved nonchalantly.

Ten minutes later you were sat across each other.

“Oh lemme grab some drinks” he stood up and disappeared into the kitchen again.

You nodded and began plating your dish and his. His having three times the portion like usual.

Gojo came back and sat down with his mouth slightly open.

You realized your mistake and felt heat rise to your cheeks. “S-sorry it- I did that out of habit. Didn’t mean to make you feel weird..”

“It’s fine it’ll just take some getting used to is all…” he smirked and dug in.

“Thank you for the meal.” You twirled your fork around the shrimp and pasta and took a bite.

Oh

Oh

Oh hell no

“Something wrong?”

“Satoru this is amazing… like really really amazing”

“Glad you like it”

“No but seriously this is so good…Why can’t my version do this??”

You took another bite and swooned, maybe you’d leave your version for this one…

BZZT BZZT BZZT

“Oh it’s you! Well other you..”

“Satoru?”

“Hey babe you doing alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright… we met with Nanami earlier, he said he’s going to do some more research and let us know if he finds anything..”

“Same here, Suguru and I are tracking the curse down but it’ll take a little bit of time, he’s a slippery one that’s for sure”

“Mm, sorry for putting everyone through this trouble…”

“Don’t worry, I have plenty of ways you can make it up to me later”

“Ah geez I need to stop putting you on speaker..”

“You’re not alone? It’s pretty late..”

“Yeah well other you thought it would be best to keep me close for safety reasons. I’m here at the old penthouse actually.”

“….”

“Toru?”

“You’re with other me?”

You blinked. “Uh yes?“

“Hey other me!”

You tilt the phone closer to this Gojo so he can hear better.

“Uh yes?”

“I know it’s tempting but no canoodling my girl alright?”

“S-satoru!”

“Not even a little touch, I mean it.”

“Satoru what are you talking about?! I just met the guy!”

“And? Do you remember how I was back then?”

“Well...” yeah a manwhore..

“Oh yeah and another word of advice, no girls over to the place. She gets suuuuuuper jealous, one time she even told our pet to attack and-“

“I did not! That was-!-you know that was an accident!”

“Mhmm sure”

“You know cutie feeds off my feelings, I didn’t tell him to bite her arm!”

“Of course sweetheart of course..”

“You- what about that time you hijacked my date!”

“That was purely coincidental, I was in the area.”

“Sure you were…”

“Anywhoooooo, did you take your meds?”

“Y-yeah”

“Liar”

“Hey make sure she gets those pills, she’ll faint without them and I don’t need her falling into anyone else’s arms”

“S-satoru good night already, I’ll talk to you later…”

“Alright sorry, you know I worry. Night baby, don’t feel too lonely without me”

*click*

“Ugh annoying jerk” you words didn’t match your soft tone.

Gojo leaned back in his chair and scanned your form.

Did he? Did a version of him really fall in love and settle down. You were certainly beautiful but he’d been with a lot of beautiful women.. did your strength draw his attention? He supposed he hasn’t seen you fight yet, maybe he would fix that soon..

“Oh uh sorry you had to hear all that again, I hope it’s not too weird”

“Well I’m not gonna lie and say it’s normal but..”

You smiled and brought another forkful to your mouth.

“Thank you for everything, really… you don’t even know me and you’re doing all this..”

“Well hey don’t worry about it, any alter ego/universe me’s wife is a friend of mine”

“Heh thanks” glad to know all Gojos humor are the same across universes.

After dinner you helped clean up and were lounging on the couch while Gojo went to shower.

He wouldn’t mind if you turned on the tv right?

So far this Gojo was 99.8 percent a carbon copy of yours so no he wouldn’t mind.. plus tonight the new episode of “Wishing I was yours” was airing and you couldn’t miss it..

And that’s how Gojo found you 20 minutes later, arms wrapped around your knees cuddling a pillow, tearful eyes glued to the TV screen.

‘No! No you can’t leave me. You can’t give up after everything we’ve been through’

‘Forgive me my love, you’ll have to continue this journey without me…’

‘No! I need you!!’

‘I’m only going to put you in danger… it has to be this way… I’m sorry’

‘Noooooooooooooooo!’

How can she watch this crap…

Gojo made his presence known and stepped in front of the couch.

“Oh hey, I-i hope it was ok that I- ah no don’t go!!” Your focus was quickly redirected back to the gripping scene. You groaned when the credits rolled.

“Dammit you were right about the ending…now I have to do that thing… ugh” you mumbled into the pillow.

Gojo couldn’t help but be curious what that thing was but stayed quiet.

“Don’t tell me that I actually watch this kind of stuff?”

He sat on the other end of the couch watching as you paused the tv and turned towards him.

“Well not at first but we worked out a deal, every week we watch one of my picks and one of your picks… but ugh you always choose the scariest stuff…”

“Better than unrealistic lovey dovey crap…”

“Unrealistic?? Says the one who spouts the most corniest lines 24/7”

The title screen for another episode started playing and he swiftly grabbed the remote.

“Allow me to show you what true cinema is.”

Uh oh, you had a bad feeling about this..

1 hour later

“Ah no way no way no way” Gojo smirked watching how you hid behind a pillow shaking like a leaf.

“Oh come on, it’s not even the scary part yet…”

“Liar! Ew ew ew I accidentally looked again”

“Human snake vs Octogator is a masterpiece , you’re insulting one of the greatest films of all time!”

“You just chose this because you knew it would scare me!”

“Lady I barely know you, is that something I would do?” He smiled, glowing eyes peeking behind his glasses.

“Yes, that is exactly what you would do..”

Well you sure did seem to know him he was realizing more and more…

After the movie you were basically half asleep so Gojo decided to call it a night.

Sleepily you rose up and followed after Gojo to the hallway. But instead of turning right to the guest room you automatically turned left to his room and bumped into his back.

“Huh”

You froze, eyes shooting up to his.

“A-ah s-sorry!” Embarrassed you darted to the guest room and shut the door.

BZZT BZZT BZZT

Hm?

*NEW MESSAGE*

-Since you’re all alone, use this to tide your appetite over xoxo

*image loading*

“Ah-!”

The heat rose to your cheeks immediately.

(I’ll let you imagine what kind of picture he sent lol)

-Don’t send anything back tho ok? Don’t want the creep next door spying on you and catching a glimpse of my pretty girl~”

-he’s in another room obviously..

-wait he wouldn’t look through the walls with his eyes would he??

-would- did you ever do that??

-ah gotta go baby, the line is bad, nighty night!

-We’re texting idiot, what line?! And answer the question!!

-xoxo 💋

Ugh jerk… you threw the phone on the bed then slowly got in the unfamiliar bed.

You hated sleeping alone… even when he was out on overnight missions you were surrounded by his scent, his clothes, his everything…

You grabbed a pillow and snuggled it for comfort.

“I miss you idiot…”

Part 3

***************************************************

Aaaaaaand that’s chapter 2! What did you guys think about Suguru’s mention hehe. The angst boat is coming y’all, but first came a little fluff before the storm. Please lemme know what you thought! Until next time!

@gojosatorulover7 @goaway-plzz @goldenglow149 @taakt17 @kneesheee @yumii-34 @ritsatoru @generalstephkenobi @author20 @bitchycloudstrawberry @hojoslutoru

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Trickster’s Pet, Part 2

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Gabriel & child!reader

Read part 1 here

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you find out Gabriel is dead, but then later you and the brothers are reunited with him

“We have to go back!” Sam tightened his hold when you tried to wriggle out of his arms. “Gabriel’s back there, we have to help him!”

Sam basically had to wrestle you into the back of the Impala before he got in the front seat, and Dean hit the gas. You continued to protest, demanding that he turn around.

“Honey…” Sam glanced at Dean before looking at you in the rearview mirror. “We can’t. Gabriel stayed behind to save us. He…he’s gone.”

“You don’t know that!” You cried. “We have to try!”

“He stayed back there to save us,” Dean insisted. “And he gave us this thing to keep safe.” Dean held up the dvd. “So that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“But…but…”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly, suddenly realizing how much his little sister cared about the archangel. “There’s nothing we can do.”

…

“Gabriel?” Your voice was soft and gentle, but Gabriel still flinched at the sudden sound. Sam noticed the way you were practically shaking with excitement at the discovery of your friend still alive, but you held it in when you saw how scared he was. Your excitement turned to horror when you got a good look at the tortured archangel.

“C’mere sweetheart,” Sam scooped you into his arms, turning you away from the sight. He didn’t want you to have to see your friend like that; beaten up, bloodied, with his lips sewn together.

You squirmed in your big brother’s hold, desperate to get to your friend.

“What’s wrong with Gabriel?”

“He’s gonna be ok honey, he just…he got hurt.”

“I wanna stay with Gabriel!” You insisted, still struggling in Sam’s grip. Sam was about to carry you out of the room when a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see Gabriel looking at him; it was the first time he’d moved since he arrived at the bunker.

“You want her to stay?” Sam asked, surprised when Gabriel nodded. Sam reluctantly set you down on the library table, next to the chair that Gabriel was sitting in. You instinctively reached out and held onto your friend’s hand, and Sam was again surprised when the archangel didn’t flinch away from your touch, as he had all others.

“Sammy?” Your voice came out in almost a whimper, and Sam’s heart broke when he looked down to see you staring up at him, more afraid than he’d ever seen you.

“It’s ok honey,” he insisted, wondering if he should take you away despite Gabriel’s protests. “I’m gonna fix him right up, ok? He’s ok.”

You nodded, keeping hold of Gabriel’s hand while Sam got to work. He carefully cut the stitches on Gabriel’s mouth, noticing how Gabriel would squeeze your hand whenever it hurt. His brain was working overtime, constantly afraid that he was traumatizing his baby sister by letting you stay here to comfort a tortured archangel. You stayed strong though, gripping Gabriel’s hand even as your own shook.

“Alright, that’s it,” Sam said after snipping the last stitch. “Y/N, can you find Gabriel a room?”

“What the heck happened?” Dean asked after Gabriel followed you wordlessly out of the room.

“They tortured him,” Sam said quietly.

“Yeah no kidding,” Dean sighed. “What now? Do you think Y/N’s safe with him? I mean he doesn’t exactly seem like himself.”

“Honestly Dean, I don’t think Gabriel’s in much of a position to hurt anyone.”

“We need to get his strength back,” Castiel put in. “I think I might have a way.”

…

“He’s settled in.” Sam didn’t miss the nervous tinge in your voice. “What now?” You looked up at Sam, your eyes red-rimmed. “He…he’s really scared and-and hurt.”

“He’s gonna be just fine, ok?” Sam put his hand in your shoulder. “We have an idea on how to help him out.”

“I’m coming.” Your tone left no room for argument, although Sam could make you stay away if he wanted to.

“Fine by me,” Dean said, and when Sam frowned at him he whispered, “she calms him down. We might need that.”

…

The plan wasn’t going well. When Gabriel refused to take the grace, the guys tried another method: force. Just one touch sent Gabriel reeling, diving over the bed and huddling in the corner shaking.

“Stop it!” You cried out. “You’re scaring him!” You pushed past Cas and your big brothers, making your way slowly to the archangel.

“Hey Gabe,” you said quietly, your hands held out towards him. He watched you warily, shrinking in on himself. When you saw him retreating from you, you stopped your forward movement, opting to sit on the floor a few feet away. “I’m sorry they scared you. Is it ok if I come closer?”

Gabriel hesitated a moment before nodding, and you smiled and scooted closer to him.

“You don’t have to take the grace if you don’t want to. We’re just trying to help you, I promise.”

Sam and Dean watched from the corner of the room as Gabriel stared at you. Finally, he nodded.

“You wanna take it?” You asked, and he nodded again. You held your hand out, and Cas handed you the cool glass bottle, which you then passed to Gabriel.

Gabriel was just lifting it to his lips when all the lights in the bunker went out.

…

“Stay with Gabriel, ok?” To say Sam was worried about leaving his ten-year-old sister with a powerless archangel while a Prince of Hell was loose in the bunker would be an immense understatement, but he didn’t see any other option.

“Gabriel?” You turned your eyes to the archangel after your two brothers and Cas left. Gabriel just stared; he knew what you wanted, but he couldn’t do it. “Gabriel, please.” You gestured at the grace in his hands. “You can help them, please!”

Gabriel said nothing. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go back to what he was before, he couldn’t fight Asmodeus just to lose again.

You turned away from Gabriel when the sounds of your brothers screams reverberated through the bunker. You looked from Gabriel to the door.

“G-Gabriel, please. I-I know you’re scared, I can’t even-even imagine what he did to you. But I…but I need you, please.”

Gabriel let your eye for a split second, but the pain and fear he saw there made him look away.

“I have to help them,” you whimpered, and before Gabriel could even look up, you were gone.

“No,” he whispered, snatching up the grace and putting the bottle to his lips.

…

It was a stupid idea, doomed to fail, but you did it anyway because your brothers were in danger. You saw Cas’s angel blade lying on the ground behind Asmodeus, and you were reaching for it before your brothers even saw you enter the room. Asmodeus, unfortunately, was quite perceptive.

“Well well, the final Winchester.” You felt your feet leave the ground as the demon flung you across the room, before using his powers to cause a searing pain to course through your stomach. You were screaming in pain before you even hit the ground.

“No,” Sam groaned, but he hadn’t even gotten halfway to his feet before another, more powerful voice invaded the room.

“Leave. Her. Alone.”

A brilliant blue light blinded you momentarily, but when you managed to look up, you saw your favorite archangel in all his glory; Gabriel, eyes shining and wings extending from wall to wall.

“Aww, did I hurt your favorite pet?” Asmodeus chuckled, and when he twisted his hand the pain returned to you. You barely had time to let out a cry of pain before Gabriel barely lifted his hand, and suddenly the pain was gone.

“The Winchesters are under my protection. And you no longer hold the power here.” Gabriel glanced at you for a moment. “You may not want to watch this.”

You closed your eyes when Gabriel pulsed blue once again. There was a cry of pain from Asmodeus, a flash of light, and then…

Nothing.

You opened your eyes. Asmodeus was gone. And suddenly there was Gabriel, lifting you by your arms.

“You ok, squirt?” He asked, smiling slightly. You gave him a shaky nod, and he pulled you into a hug, letting your weak limbs collapse in his embrace. “It’s ok,” he breathed. “You’re safe now, no one’s gonna hurt you.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” you breathed.

“It was about time I stretched my wings.” He smirked.

“So…you’re back?” Sam approached Gabriel slowly.

“Slow your roll, Winchester. I’ve got my power back, but I’m not ready to join your suicide fight.”

“But—“

“Look, I’m grateful that you guys brought me back, I really am, but…no. I’m staying out of this one.”

“Gabriel,” you spoke up. “Please, we need you.”

He shook his head. “You guys have this one. I’m rooting for you.” He gave a near-sardonic smile to your brothers before leaning down to you, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “But if you’re in danger, if you need my help…call me, ok?”

You looked up at him, wanting to be angry that he was leaving you guys, but you were still too relieved that he was ok.

“Ok, I will.”

He grinned.

“Great. Now turn that frown upside down. You’ll see me again soon, promise.”

And he was gone.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hii, do you think you could do a piece with a sleep deprived and overworked hero, and then the villain notices and takes care of them please. Thank you, and I love your writing!!

The hero stared at the ground, trying to catch their breath as best as they could. They were wheezing, in fact, and they couldn’t handle the sudden adrenaline rush very well. Soon enough, their body got tired again and they wanted to sit here for an eternity.

“Is this gonna be a regular thing? You know, just ask me on a date, that would spare me a lot of trouble.” The villain offered the hero their hand and the hero begrudgingly decided to take it.

“I didn’t ask you to save me. Again.” The hero staggered and more or less luckily, the villain’s hand was on their lower back immediately, preventing an undoubtedly embarrassing fall. “And I didn’t ask you to be in my business all the goddamn time.”

The hero took a step back and tried to put more distance between them. They couldn’t waste their time with the villain here, they had work to do, they had things to take care of. The hero needed to collect more data, needed to fight more criminals, needed to work harder and be better.

“Jeez, relax. Was just trying to help, sunshine.” The villain shrugged and let a knife of theirs disappear in their pocket. They looked the hero up and down. “But seriously, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” the hero said through gritted teeth, lying as if the villain wouldn’t notice.

Obviously, the hero wasn’t doing well. For over a week now, they couldn’t sleep. They were so stressed with upcoming elections (and thus potential sabotages as well as assassinations) that they couldn’t fall asleep, even though they were a walking corpse that longed for rest more than anything. As if that wasn’t enough, they had to concentrate on their usual tasks: battles and paperwork put more stress on them than they could’ve ever imagined.

“You can’t concentrate, your coordination is shit and you’re easily irritated. Don’t think I wouldn’t notice that.” The villain took a step forward, so close to the hero that their head started spinning.

“Honestly, don’t worry about it. You shouldn’t care. We’re enemies,” the hero said. They avoided the villain’s eyes. At work, no one really talked about overworking. No one acknowledged how miserable this job could be.

“We slept together like six times,” the villain said.

“And that was a mistake.”

“Six times? Seems more like a habit.”

“Okay, well, urgh.” The hero put a hand on the villain’s chest. Admittedly, they craved the villain’s attention and touch. They craved a lot of things right now, especially someone who could comfort them. But they made it seem as if they wanted to stop the villain from coming closer.

“We’re not strangers,” the villain said. “I know you. I know you’re not okay. You carry a bunch of stuff with you and you refuse to unpack it. That’s fine, I respect it, but I’d really like you to be okay.”

The hero closed their eyes. Was it bad that they wanted to feel the villain’s fingers on them? Those bloody and scarred hands?

“It’s just…lots of work at the moment. I don’t do well under too much pressure.”

“So, you can’t sleep? Is that it?” The villain’s eyes pierced into the hero’s and the hero could remember the last time they’d been this close a little too well.

Not that it mattered but back then, the hero had stared down at the sweating villain whom they’d pushed into the mattress.

“It’s difficult.”

“You know you can always come to my place.”

“I don’t wanna trouble you.”

“You only trouble me on the battlefield and those are two sides of the same coin.” The villain took in a deep breath. “Just think about it. I kinda miss you. And we don’t even have to do anything. You just need someone to make you a proper dinner.”

“As if I’m living on instant noodles.”

“You are living on instant noodles. Think about it.”

They pressed a soft kiss to the hero’s cheek and it was safe to say that the villain spoiled the hero when they visited them that night.

[loveinhawkins]

When Dustin bikes past Steve’s car, left abandoned and empty by the edge of the woods, for some reason the first thing that comes to his mind is a phone call from last summer.

July 5th 1985.

He’d picked up the phone before his mom could get to it, thank God, because Steve hadn’t bothered with any pleasantries, just said in a garbled rush, “Henderson, your house, is it—you’re safe, right?”

“I mean, I’ve not used the toaster yet,” Dustin said, eyeing the bagel he’d set out for breakfast, “but the house is still standing.”

“No but, like—” Steve snatched a breath, almost like he’d been running. “Like, no-one’s… y’know, watching you or anything?”

Then it hit Dustin: remembering Steve, finally somewhat lucid, muttering sheepishly, “Yeah, we might not wanna go to your house… Well, I might’ve told them your full name.”

Dustin took pity on him, answered sincerely. “No, we’re all good, Steve.”

He didn’t even tease about how, if the house was being watched, then Steve phoning him probably wasn’t the smartest move, because the line would’ve been tapped.

Maybe everything at Starcourt had sharpened his senses, because Dustin could now hear that Steve’s voice was slurred around the edges, like he’d just woken up, breathing harshly as if he’d ran to the phone; and he had a sudden image of Steve jolting awake, wincing from the gnarly bruises on his face, Dustin’s safety being his first thought.

Steve breathed out in a whoosh of relief. “Okay… good. Great. I’m, um. Gonna sleep. Yell if you need… I dunno. Something.”

And then he’d hung up before Dustin could work out how to say that he didn’t really mean it, when he complained about Steve not “resisting” whatever nightmare cocktail of drugs he’d had forced into him.

There was a little knot in his stomach for the rest of the day—a quiet mixture of panic and concern. The next time he saw Steve, he acted like he’d never made the phone call, so they never talked about it, and the knot faded away until Dustin almost convinced himself that it wasn’t there anymore.

But now, as he brakes then steers himself round to Steve’s car, the knot has returned—along with a little prickle of goosebumps that he usually only associates with any and all Upside Down shit. This isn’t quite a Code Red, he knows that, but he also knows that it’s…

It’s something.

The knot doubles in size when he peers into the car windows, sees that the keys have been left in the ignition. When he tries the door handle, it’s unlocked.

He bikes to the nearest payphone. He’s memorised Steve’s work schedule, knows that he’s not in today, that Robin has the late afternoon to closing shift.

He listens to his gut and dials Eddie’s number.

At first, Eddie thinks that Dustin’s calling him for a ride because his bike got a flat tire again. But as Dustin explains, he gets quieter and quieter until he’s just making anxious little hmm noises.

“I think I know where he’s gone,” Dustin adds, and Eddie’s sigh is a bit like Steve’s had been that morning he called, like he’s been holding his breath.

“Oh, thank God. You’d know better than anyone, Henderson.”

Dustin hangs up the phone after promising Eddie that he’ll stay by Steve’s car until he arrives.

He thinks about the relief in Eddie’s voice when he said he had a hunch about Steve’s whereabouts, like Dustin is the chosen one for understanding what makes Steve tick. Eddie’s joked about it before; he’d called it “sibling telepathy” when Dustin had silently communicated his popcorn order at the movies, and he’d nudged Steve in the ribs when Steve’s nose wrinkled meaning Gross, dude. Then Steve had huffed a laugh, nudging Dustin back. Okay, okay. I’ll pay for it, you little shit.

But Eddie gets Steve, too, Dustin thinks; that’s why he called him. And yeah, it’s different than the way Dustin understands Steve, but it’s significant enough for Eddie to make the cut of Steve Harrington Interpreters in Dustin’s mind.

Eddie’s van comes into view, and he actually uses his turn signal perfectly as he parks next to Steve’s car, like the panic has made him extra cautious.

“I’ll leave my bike here,” Dustin tells him as Eddie hops out.

Eddie’s lips turn into a thin line when he sees Steve’s keys. He nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll—okay.” He takes a breath, looks Dustin up and down. “Uh, I’ve got a coat if you need it, man.”

Dustin rolls his eyes, and Eddie at least smiles through his concern. It’s started to rain, that slow misty kind that clings to the skin, but Dustin reasons that he’ll be fine; he’ll be warm enough once he gets moving.

Eddie eyes the trees nervously. He jerks his head back to the van. “There’s—you need a flashlight? Just in case, um. Just in case?”

Dustin shakes his head. “It’s not that dark,” he says, not unkindly; Eddie kind of has a thing now for always having a flashlight on hand. Dustin can’t remember the last time he’s even come this close to the woods after March—his eyes keep darting down to the ground like he’s going to see vines there instead.

Eddie nods again, sighs. He checks his watch, then says, “Two hours tops, okay? And if it gets too dark and—just come back the way you came, even if you’ve not—” Eddie swallows. “We’ll figure it out.”

Dustin acts like he agrees and leaves his bike with Eddie—but there’s no way he’s gonna turn back, not without Steve.

He heads for the railroad tracks.

[thefuseoftemptation]

TO BE ONE

finnick odair x fem!reader/ finnick odair x tribute!reader

warning(s): cussing, pre-established relationship, angst, the use of y/n, character death. lmk if there are more!

a/n: dk why I’m like this

—

“Finn?”

It was whispered out, head still held up, staring at the one person who you always looked for in times of reassurance, much like now. Your hand at your stomach.

It went through.

The tip of it sticking out from your back as the end of it—at the front— staring them in the eyes before you were removing it and lowering yourself, unable to stand anymore.

“No!” Finnick had caught you just before you could settle onto the sand, arm around your back just under your shoulders as the other was hovering over where the spear had been located— shaking as he saw the extent of its entry.

“Hey, hey, hey- look at me.” While you had been the whole time, never once removing your eyes away from his, it was more so to keep you up. Something said to keep you from thinking about what was going on. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. We’re going to be okay, you hear me?”

Finnick was shaking, trembling even, as he held you— trying to comprehend where it took a turn.

You guys heard it before you saw it, the gasp, only to lookover and see Gloss holding Wiress. It all happened suddenly, nonetheless you reacted as the rest had. Like you were taught- trained. Katniss had gone after the other career tributes, you not far behind. And it wasn’t until Finnick looked up from where he was that he saw you had left, not taking a second to follow while he called out your names. 

There was never a time when his eyes weren’t on you, and if there was, they were always looking to make sure you were in his line of sight at least. So to know you weren’t, and not even in arms reach sent his stomach turning, even more so knowing where you guys were at of all places.

You had kept your eyes on Katniss as she kept hers on Brutus, all the while Finnick had been trying to recover from the sudden swipe he received from the former’s bow. It was too much to keep up with, too much to look after and knowing the way Katniss was, and how you also were– it didn’t ease Finnick’s job at trying to keep you all safe. 

He had caught up, swiftly moving himself in front of you, when Brutus had thrown his weapon. Finnick had avoided it, throwing his trident just as Katniss shot an arrow, neither of them knowing that it hadn’t been the same for you.

“Y/N, look at me, look at me.” Your eyes were glassy, as you stared up at him. He could see you, feel you, slipping through his fingers.

“We’re going to get out of here, okay? We’re going to get out of here.” Finnick repeated, most likely as a reassurance to himself. “I’ll-” he swallowed, “I’ll take you out when we get back, how’s that sound?” Finnick said, desperate to get something out of you. “We’ll go to the pier—you’ve always liked going there. ‘Member? It’s where we first met.” 

Your mouth had stretched up a little as you heard his words, tears leaving your eyes as you nodded along, as if it was going to be like that. Like it was going to happen.

Finnick pursed his lips, trying to hold back a sob as he watched you, not because he didn’t want the others to see, but because he didn’t want you to see. The grasp he had on your body, tightened, as if it was going to keep you there. One of his hands came up to your face, turning, as his knuckles grazed along the side of it.

He leaned down, your foreheads pressed to one another– his nose resting on top of yours. 

“I’ll be one-”

Finnick pulled away when he heard you, trying to speak. “I’ll be- I’ll be one of them.” You choked out. 

His brows furrowed, unsure of what you were referring to and like always, you knew what was going through his mind when you looked at him. Your head shifting, eyes now on the water. Finnick followed your line of sight, watching the water move– the waves. It was then that Finnick released a sob, nodding his head when he finally got what you were trying to say.

It had been around the time when you first met, ways ago, the both of you on the pier looking out.

While Finnick made sure to hold himself up right, it hadn’t meant it was always like that for him. Nevertheless, even after all that he had been through, he was still so truthful to himself. It's why you liked him, why you found it so easy to tell him things you never told anyone else before.

“If there was ever a time where I’d have to go back there” Finnick’s ears twitched at your words, understanding where that was. “I think I’d just let them get to me- I wouldn't try.” You whispered, your eyes still on the view in front of you. 

His head turned at what you said, waiting for you to go on knowing there was more.

“You know why?” You asked, not even giving him the chance to answer before you were speaking again. “Because I wouldn’t have to go on with knowing what I’ve done. It’d be over for me and I’d get to come back as one of those.” Your head nodded towards the waves.

“Nothing could ever get to me then.”

Finnick felt himself shaking his head, not at the thought but rather because he could understand. He could see it. And it was in the last few words you spoke that had him making a promise to not only you, but to himself. He’d never let anything get to you, no matter what.

“A wave, huh?” He said, letting out a breath. You finally looked at him, resting your cheek on your knee that was pulled into your chest. “Guess we’ll still be seeing a lot of each other.” He grinned, the meaning behind his sentence making your eyes water.

You knew there was no other place Finnick spent so much time at than the sea, and with your newly confessed thoughts, it had you grasping onto what you guys were to each other. 

Finnick kept calling you, hand on your neck as he turned your head to look at him. But when you hadn’t reacted to his movements, his stomach dropped further than where it already was. Then the canon went off.

"No, no, no!" It was frantic, falling from his lips as he tried to keep your head up.

“Hey,” your chin held between his fingers, “look at me.” Your eyes were staring up, still open, but no longer glowing. Their usual light was now gone as you laid there in his arms, unmoving. 

"Don't- Don't do this to me. Please, don't."

Finnick could hear his name being called, forgetting there were others. Still, he refused to listen, refused to pull his eyes away from you. Because look where it got him when he had.

"Finnick...."

He let out another sob, pulling you close and into his chest. “Not you- please not you.”

He promised. He promised to be there for you, to not let anything get to you like they had. After everything you’d been through, everything you’d done, it still wasn’t enough because in the end- it still left you where you had begun. Whether favored by the capitol or not.

His cries were harrowing to see and listen too.

“Finnick.” Johanna put her hand on his shoulder.

“We have to go.” She said, not liking having to be the one to tell him that, but they had to leave. They couldn’t stay there. 

“Y/N isn’t coming back.”

She’s said a lot of things in her years, but never had she ever thought she’d be saying that. You weren't just an ally- you were her friend, something she had very few of. If any at all. “She’s not coming back, Finnick.” 

She hadn’t wanted to say it and he hadn’t wanted to hear it. “We have to go.”

He knew she was right. It’s why it pained him so much more.

Finnick held you tighter, pressing his forehead to yours one last time before he was letting you go. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” It was like a mantra falling from his lips as he got up, pushing your body away and into the water. 

Peeta handed Finnick’s trident back, the latter taking it into his hold as he nodded his head– knuckles whitening as he gripped it.

As the others began to leave, Finnick stayed behind to watch the waves carry you further away. 

I want to be one of them.

'A wave, huh?'

A single tear falling from his eye as he stared out, seeing your face as he remembered your words that day.

And you were.

—