#wish I could take his place so he won’t have to suffer anymore

[chelseeebe]

we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

-

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

-

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

-

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

-

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

-

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

-

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

-

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

-

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

[smuttyworks]

You're mine. - Mattheo Riddle Smut

oooooo im so obsessed with this mf.

warnings: shmut, idk im not good with warnings

summary: Reader and Mattheo have been secretly together and she wants more, but Mattheo is scared she will get hurt due to his standing. so reader uses Theodore to make Mattheo jealous and hopefully step up. (No Y/n)

-

“You won’t kiss me in public, you won’t hold my hand… you barely even acknowledge me outside of your dorm room.” You breathed out, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Mattheo shook his head, trying to block out his true feelings, not wanting you to realize why, not wanting to hurt you anymore than he already had.

You were good, too good for him, he worried every single day that you would get hurt due to him and his standings. People would see you as his weakness because you were. He couldn’t risk the one good thing in his life, the only good thing he could ever feel.

“I can’t do this, you should go.” He swallowed, brows furrowing at the hurt he was feeling, knowing he had to let you go for your own safety.

You covered your mouth to stop the sobs from escaping and stood from the bed, turning away from him and slamming his dorm room open and making your way out of the Slytherin common room and towards the girls’ dorms.

You burst through your dorm room and sat on the edge of the bed, tears now dripping down your chin and onto your white blouse. How could he do this? You two had been together for so long in private, he took your virginity, he taught you so much, you fell in love with the curly haired boy, and he couldn’t even love you in public…

You sobbed out as you gripped your blouse, feeling the pressure and pain in your chest. Anger soon took the place of sadness, and you decided to get him back. If he couldn’t love you in public, you would make sure he sure suffered.

-

You slipped on your black sheer pantyhose and pulled up your too short skirt you knew was the perfect one for tonight, and walked over to your closet in your black bra, trying to decide what shirt to wear.

It had been a few days since you last talked to Mattheo, and you did your best to avoid him at all costs, but it was hard seeing him in class, or sitting at the great hall table as he read his book, it was hard to not sit across from him as you usually did…

But you succeeded in avoiding him at all costs, and tonight’s Slytherin party in Hogsmeade was the perfect place to get back at him and show him what he was missing. You smirked to yourself as you pulled out the cute white cropped tank top, knowing it was one of his favourites, and pulled it over your head.

-

You could feel his eyes burning into your back as you sat on Theodore’s lap, giggling at the stupid joke he made. Theo’s hand ran up your waist as he eyed you up, “You look amazing tonight.” He smiled, his fingers grazing over your bare skin above the short black skirt you wore.

You leaned down as you played with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck, “You look sexy out of your uniform,” you bit your lip, rubbing light circles on the soft skin of his neck, “but I think I’d like to see what you look like out of these clothes too.” 

Theodore laughed and pulled you closer, your bum now feeling his hard bulge against you. You turned your head slightly to eye up Mattheo, and your sight did not disappoint.

He sat across the room on one of the sofa chairs, his fingers angrily digging into the arm rests and his jaw tightly clenched, the view of him so angry made you feel powerful. He thought he could just hurt you and get out unscathed… 

“Take me upstairs, Theo.” You whispered in his ear, and that was enough for him to quickly lift you from his lap as he stood and pull you closely behind him. Theodore led you up the stairs towards an unoccupied room and shut the door behind the two of you.

As he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours, your mind thought about the boy you wished it was, Mattheo.

You pushed him against the wall and deepened the kiss, running your fingers through his hair and pressing your body into his, feeling his erection poke your hip. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” He groaned, grabbing your ass with both hands and pulling you closer.

You gave him a small smile and reached down between the both of you and pulling the hem of your white tank up and over your head, dropping it on the floor behind the two of you. Theodore’s eyes dropped to your black bra and he leaned down, pressing his lips to the skin of your cleavage. 

Your head fell back as you held him close by his neck, your eyes landing to the bedroom door, wondering if Mattheo even cared at all.

But your thoughts were cut short when you could feel Theo’s hands snake around your back, his fingers running over the clasp of your bra as his lips continued to explore your chest, inching closer and closer to the hem of your bra.

You sighed, and shook your head, this didn’t feel right. “Theo-“ you started, but you were cut off by the bedroom door bursting open. Theo held you close as you both turned to the door. “Get off of her now, Theodore.” He spat, clearly holding back his anger as he didn’t want to take it out on his best friend who had no idea what was going on in the first place.

“What the fuck, Mattheo?!” Theodore jumped, moving away from you. 

You sighed, “Just go, Theo.” He looked down at you and back at Mattheo before shaking his head.

“I knew it,” he rolled his eyes, slipping past you and walking out the door, to which Mattheo reached over and slammed the door shut, his eyes never leaving yours.

You glared at him, “so you won’t claim me, and I can’t get with anyone else who doesn’t care to be seen with me in front of others?” you spat.

His eyes didn’t soften, he just continued to stare at you with complete anger. “That’s what you want? Someone to fuck you at a party where everyone else knows you’re getting fucked?” he laughed humourlessly.

You shook your head at him, “I want someone who isn’t ashamed to be seen with me!” you yelled, stepping closer to him.

“I have never been ashamed of you; don’t you think I want to hold your hand?!” Mattheo screamed, “Don’t you think I want to kiss you and not care who can see?” his hands cupped either side of your face, “I want to do all that, baby… but you know who I am, you are my only weakness and if the wrong people knew they would hurt you to hurt me.” He swallowed, his voice and stare softening.

“I don’t care about that, Mattheo, I love you and I want to be with you, we can’t spend our whole lives scared about what could happen and let that stop us from being happy.” You whispered, caressing his cheek softly.

His brows furrowed as if he was fighting his own battle in his head, and then he leaned down and crashed his lips desperately to yours. “I love you.” He breathed, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you into him. “But if you ever do that again I will kill them.” He raised his brow.

You giggled and pressed your lips to his, reaching down and palming his dick through his clothes. You could feel him hardening quickly beneath your touch, and it excited you to be able to touch him outside either of your dorm rooms.

Mattheo pushed you against the wall and lifted you up, and you quickly wrapped your legs around his hips as his hands held you up by your bum. Moans escaped your lips as he pressed his erection against your core.

Mattheo’s kisses started to get sloppy as he got more and more turned on, and you couldn’t help how needy you were getting for him, all you wanted was to feel him inside of you. 

He seemed to have the same idea as you, as he pulled away and held you tightly as he walked to the bed, throwing you down roughly before ripping your pantyhose up your legs as well as ripping your thin thong panties apart and slipping them in his pocket.

You watched as he eyed up your half naked body with his lips slightly parted, “Beautiful.” He breathed, running his hands up your legs and creeping closer to your drenched cunt. You moaned when you felt his finger graze over your folds, his touch has always felt electric.

“I’ve always only wanted to be yours, Mattheo.” You breathed, reaching up and touching his hard chest over his black t-shirt. He smiled down at you softly and leaned over so he could press his lips to your chest, his arms slipping under your back and unclasping your bra, then he helped slip it off your arms.

“You’re mine.” He smirked, lifting your bare body, and placing you higher up on the bed, then inching his face between your legs, the torn pantyhose exposing your pussy. His eyes dropped to your core, and he licked his lips before running his wet warm tongue between your folds and circling your clit.

You moaned out, your hand reaching for his hair as he tasted your juices. “Oh fuck,” you whimpered, the feeling of his mouth on you bringing stars to your eyes.

Mattheo’s hands held either side of your hips as he worked magic with his tongue. Your head flung back as you took in the situation before you… your Slytherin classmates all beneath the room you were in, the loud music couldn’t blare out your moans to whoever made their way up the stairs either looking for a bathroom or for another unoccupied room as you had found.

The adrenaline of knowing anyone of your friends could walk through those doors accidentally and see you with Mattheo turned you on more than you could have ever imagined. Mattheo wasn’t hiding you.

“You taste so fucking good, angel.” He breathed against your soaking core before pressing his tongue back onto your clit. You moaned his name as you felt him tease your entrance with his fingers.

“Mattheo,” you cried as he pushed two fingers inside of you, folding them to press on your g-spot. His fingers entering at a fast pace as he never missed your spot, bringing you closer and closer to your release.

His tongue swiped over your sensitive clit, your orgasm building hot in your body, and with one last flick of his dangerous tongue, he had you completely undoing beneath his heavenly touch.

You rode out the strong waves of pleasure with curse words and moans of his name falling from your lips for anyone to hear, and it only added to the arousal. 

When you felt like you could breathe properly again, you reached to him and roughly pulled him up to your body, his lips crashing down to yours as you tasted yourself on his lips, his wet cheeks pressing to yours as he held himself up with one arm and the other reached down between the two of you and he skillfully undid his belt and unzipped his jeans.

“Fuck me, Mattheo.” You begged, to which he pulled his jeans and boxer down enough to free his painfully hard dick and position himself at your soaking entrance. “Fuck me so everyone knows who I belong to.”

His brows furrowed and lips parted at how much your words turned him on. Mattheo watched you intensely as he pushed himself inside of you slowly. You cursed at the beautiful feeling you loved the most in this world, the feeling of him stretching you, something you’d never get use to due to his large size.

His face contorted in pleasure as he closed the space between the two of you, his dick fully inside of you as you cried out his name and he moaned yours. He started thrusting viciously as his moans filled your ears.

You were used to having to muffle your moans so no one would hear, Mattheo’s hand usually covering your mouth to keep you from screaming, so the fact that the two of you could enjoy each other’s moans without being worried about who might hear was one of the best feelings.

“You have me so close already, fuck.” He groaned, lifting his body up and wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you up to him as he fucked you like that. His strong arms holding you up as he sinfully entered your body.

You pressed your lips to his neck, knowing exactly where his sweet spot was and licking the sensitive skin. He whimpered into your hair as you sucked on the soft skin of his neck, something you had always wanted to do, but you couldn’t leave marks on him before.

His thrusts got increasingly sloppier as you marked his skin, his grip on your body tightening as he thrusted hard deep inside you. “Mattheo!” you cried, your eyes squeezing shut as he took out everything on your body as his own.

With one last thrust he came completely undone, his face contorting in pleasure as he filled your cunt with his seed. 

He rode out his orgasm with his fingers digging tightly onto your body. “I’ve always wanted to hear your screams, baby.” He chuckled, kissing your jaw softly. “I hope they all heard it,” he smirked, “Especially Theodore.”

You rolled your eyes and lightly pushed his shoulder, giggling at his stupidity. “I bet they all did.”

The two of you cleaned yourselves off as you both prepared to return to the party, excitement filling your body as you finally got to show him off as your own. Months of having to ignore girls gossip about how hot Mattheo was, you could finally shut everyone up.

His fingers interlocked with yours as you opened the bedroom door, instantly being met with Draco, Blaise, and Theo snickering at each other. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t contain your giggles. “Shut up, idiots.” You joked, pushing on the blonde’s shoulder.

“You’re a lucky man, Riddle.” Theodore grinned, then returned to laughing with the other boys. Mattheo gave them the finger before pulling you down the stairs behind him. You could feel everyone’s eyes on the two of you as he led you to a sofa, sitting down and pulling you down to sit on his lap.

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

In Every Trio There's Always A Duo Final Part

John Price X F!Reader

You nodded, resting your palm atop of his wrist with a soft smile. John worrying over you was becoming a pastime that neither of you were going to be able to break.

A/N: ahhhh! here we are! the final installment to this little fic series! I hope everyone that loved and read this, also loves this lol, as always feedback is highly appreciated WARNINGS: mentions of PTSD, flashbacks, mentions of past injuries, trauma, John being soft(i love that old man so much)

“Simon…”

Your heart was racing, it had been so long that you’d had to face him, hell you could see Johnny standing just a few feet behind him as if he was a scolded child. It sickened you in a way, they weren’t respecting your wishes to meet on your terms. Why were things turning out like this? You were doing just fine, physical therapy was starting to fix the damage done to your leg, and yes, while you knew it would never go back to 100% use, you were fine with that. This though, this was something you’d wanted to avoid for the rest of your life. Simon and Johnny had ruined your life for months, had made you feel so miniscule and small. You were nothing more than a nuisance to them until you’d been captured by the enemy. John had been the only person to pick up the pieces, to help rebuild you as a person.

“We wanted to talk with you about everything.” Simon’s voice didn’t hide his emotions, they were laid bare in front of you.

“Simon, you can’t be serious right now, I asked for you to give me more time, this is the exact opposite of that.” Anger was simmering in your veins, a pot slowly beginning to boil over.

“I understand that, but it’s been over a year and you won’t even look at either of us.” Simon’s brow furrowed, lips pulled into a harsh line.

Your teeth gnashed together as you tried to swallow the hurtful remark that laid on the tip of your tongue. If only he knew exactly how you’d felt about the entire situation, maybe he would begin to see the real you. John placed a palm on your lower back, hoping to help not only steady you, but also calm you if he could. He’d been against you speaking to Simon or Johnny until you felt truly ready, and right now he was ready to reprimand both men.

“I think it’s best if you two leave. Now.” John wasn’t going to take no for an answer, if push came to shove he would do whatever it took to protect you. You’d suffered enough.

“Sir, you can’t be serious.” Simon was astounded, was he really about to send the two of them away because you were upset?

“I am, I have to protect my fiance, and if that means the two of you leaving, then so be it.” John’s gaze hardened as he stared them down.

Simon opened his mouth as if he wanted to retort before thinking better and deciding to grab Johnny and leave. Tears slipped down your cheeks, ruining the light makeup you’d put on before you’d left to go to lunch. It didn’t matter, you could always do yourself up for a new date night with John, but knowing it was because Simon had ruined such a special day for you? You were angry.

No, you were downright livid.

“Can we go home? I’d like to lay down.” You huffed softly, loosening the tight grip you had on his coat.

“Of course, do you want any help? Or are you alright to head to the car?” John didn’t want to rush you, even though he wanted nothing more than to be home with you as well.

“I’m all right, the sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.” Your steps were slower, your body still tense after seeing Simon and Johnny so suddenly.

You had thought you were passed all of this, that you could face them without the terror locking your muscles to the point you were a statue. Apparently that wasn’t the case, and now you weren’t even sure you’d ever be able to talk with them again. PTSD had plagued you for so long that you weren’t even sure therapy was helping anymore. You knew the people who’d taken you hostage were dead, John accidentally let it slip during a casual dinner. He wasn’t ashamed of it, he’d been on a personal rampage to find you, and damn anyone who stood in his way.

Of course you knew deep down you would do the same thing had John been stuck in the same situation. It was a need to protect one of the people you were the closest too, it didn’t matter that you couldn’t walk without a cane, or that your hip locked up most mornings. You would do whatever it took to make sure both yourself, and John were happy.

“How did they even know we would be here?” There was no reason for them to have shown up, not if John had only called Alex and Farah for the surprise.

“I’m not sure, the only thing I can think is Simon saw my calendar down at the station.” It was the only explanation you had at the moment.

“Probably, better keep a better hold on it in the future.” You waited until John opened the door, turning your body slowly as you got into the car.

John waited until you’d situated yourself, tucking your legs in before grabbing your cane and laying it on the back seat. He was always afraid something would happen if the two of you were to ever get into a car accident so he never risked your safety. It was another thing that had made you fall further in love with him. Neither of you were perfect people, there was no doubt in your mind that any normal person would think you were a monster. You’d killed people to make sure more didn’t die, went to defend innocent civilians from the war path of an angry person.

Your heart was racing as you watched the other man knock both John and Johnny down, muttering how this would be their final moments. Johnny threw himself off the ground, the knife he’d had strapped to his thigh plunged deep into the other man’s shoulder. His scream of agony echoed throughout the train station. The Scot wasted no time in pressing his gun to the man’s head, the single gunshot was deafening as you watched with bated breath. John threw himself up and off the ground, grabbing Johnny’s vest and all but throwing him to the bombs that were still counting down. It had only taken him mere seconds before the timer stopped, Simon and Kyle finally making their way down to where you were.

The two accomplices had fled, leaving behind their leader who now lay lifeless on the shockingly bright concrete. You stood up slowly, hands shaking as you swallowed the thick bile that creeped up in your throat. Had Johnny not gotten the shot off, who knows what could’ve happened? Would the five of you have been standing together, or would someone else have lost their life at that moment?

“You doing alright, soldier?” John laid a hand against your shoulder, noticing the way you seemed to flinch.

“Yes sir, just shaken up a bit.” You didn’t want to lie, not to someone that was mere seconds away from death again. 

John nodded his head before radioing to Laswell, letting her know the threat had been neutralized as well as the bombs.

“Sweetheart?” John pinched your chin softly, turning your gaze to face his.

“Hmm?” Your eyes focused on the way his lips pulled into a soft frown.

“You alright? Seemed a little dazed.” John knew things like this could happen, it had happened to him plenty of times before.

You nodded, resting your palm atop of his wrist with a soft smile. John worrying over you was becoming a pastime that neither of you were going to be able to break.

“Just thinking about the past, got lost.” That mission wasn’t even the worst you’d been on, but it was a reminder that everything could be gone within the blink of an eye.

“I know, I’m always here if you want to talk about anything.” John’s fingers released your chin, wrapping around your much softer fingers as he brought them to his lips.

Your smile was radiant as he pressed a kiss to each finger before pressing one final one to the ring he’d slid onto your finger just an hour prior. Everything in that moment, the two of you in your own little bubble, felt almost perfect. It began to sink in that, even though you didn’t want to, you would need to confront Simon and Johnny. They were people that meant a lot to John, and you at one point, and even after everything you’d want to invite them to the wedding.

“You’re thinking too hard, why don’t we go inside so you can get changed, and then we’ll discuss everything.” John raised a brow, waiting to see if you would be comfortable moving after what had happened.

“That sounds perfect, though you’ll need to get my cane for me.” You gestured with your free hand towards the cane that sat comfortably in the back seat.

John’s smirk raised sudden suspicion as he quickly got out of the car, slamming his door before rushing over to your side. John was careful not to swing the door open too quickly, lest your body get jerked and cause any unnecessary pain for you. He reached over, unhooking your seatbelt and pulling it away from your body.

“John, what-”

Your words were cut off as he scooped you up into his hold, not even a grunt slipping through his lips as he shut the door with his foot. Your laugh echoed as he walked up to the front door, stealthily slipping the keys from his pocket to get the front door opened. It was no secret you’d gained weight after the whole abduction, having to do physical therapy and not being as active had a hand in it. 

“You are one cheeky bastard, you know that?” Even though your words would sound harsh to anyone else, the smile on your face told John an entirely different story.

“Only the best for you, my love.” John quickly got the door open, shutting the door with his foot, again, once you were safely inside. 

You rested your head against his chest as he made his way down to your shared bedroom, depositing you gently on the bed before searching for comfortable clothes. He tossed over one of his shirts that you’d stolen in the past, laughing as it smacked you in the face. His own laughter followed suit as he’d realized what had happened before finding his own clothes. 

His hands were gentle as he helped you undress, slipping your shoes off before sliding off your pants, shirt, and lastly your bra before helping you into the much softer clothing. You ran your hand along the fabric of his shirt, smiling at the faded color. It had been one of his favorites to sleep in until you’d stolen it one night, he only ever wore it when he wanted you to smell like him.

“John?” You looked up at him nervously, your smile disappearing suddenly.

“What’s wrong dove?” John sat down beside you, taking your hands into his lap.

“I want to talk with Simon and Johnny. I know what they did earlier was completely out of line, but they’re our friends, I want them to be there when we get married.” It wasn’t a decision that had come lightly, even before John had proposed you always knew you wanted the task force there.

John was quiet for a few moments, soaking in the information and deciding on what would be the best thing to say to you in that moment. You deserved to be the one to initiate the conversation, and he was happy that right now it was your choice.

“I can call him, make some tea for when they arrive.” John’s voice was soft, even though he would always be slightly angry at what they’d done, he wouldn’t shun them out forever.

“That sounds perfect.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, you’d need time to prepare before they arrived.

John helped you down to the living room, offering assistance only if you needed it. He knew how annoying it could be when someone offered to help out because they assumed you were too weak. It was one of the reasons you worked so well together, he knew when to push you harder, and when to be the person you fell back on. 

Once you were comfortably seated with one of the books you’d been reading, did John call Simon, telling the other man that you wanted to speak with him and Johnny. The call was short, Simon stated they would be over within the next fifteen minutes, which gave John plenty of time to make some tea. He’d all but stopped drinking after finding out that most of the pain meds you had been taking couldn’t be mixed with alcohol. He only ever smoked on base, never when you would be around to smell any of the smoke.

Knock knock!

Your heart kicked up a beat before settling down once more. John walked over to the door, greeting them both quietly as they walked into your home. Johnny took his boots off quickly, not wanting to track mud inside. Simon followed suit, making sure their shoes stayed together so they could get them back on quickly if needed.

“Come on, let’s talk.” John headed into the living room, sitting down beside you as he pulled your feet into his lap.

Simon swallowed nervously. Funny how someone who could stare death in the face was suddenly afraid of upsetting you again. Johnny stayed close to Simon’s side, plopping down in one of the arm chairs as he waited for someone, anyone to break the silence.

“You can sit down, Simon, I’m not going to bite.” You tried to smile, but it felt almost wrong.

“I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. Johnny even told me that I shouldn’t have intruded but I was so afraid things were going to get worse.” Simon wrung his hands together, coffee colored eyes flicking down to the scarred skin.

You wanted to comfort him in that moment, to tell him that everything was perfectly fine, that he didn’t need to worry. Except it wasn’t fine, nothing would be perfectly fine anymore. You sighed softly, taking in a deep breath as you waited for Johnny to say something as well.

“I…had I known what was going on, I would’ve done more to help you feel included. I felt like such an arse for being such a piece of shite towards you.” Johnny didn’t like to mince his words, he spoke his mind to whoever was willing to listen.

“That’s in the past now, there’s nothing we can do to change that.” Yes, you were angry and upset that the people you had thought were your friends didn’t seem to share the same sentiment.

John squeezed your calf softly, it was his way of comforting you when he didn’t want to say anything out loud.

“But, I want you to understand that I am still hurt by what has happened. I had always thought that we were some sort of friends, and getting kidnapped really put everything into perspective for me.” You twirled the ring on your hand absentmindedly, almost like it was a fidget toy.

“I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve your friendship. What we did is something that you should never forgive, we left you to die and yet you’re acting like it’s water under the bridge.” Simon was angry, not at you, but at himself and the way he’d handled everything.

“Simon, I-”

Johnny stood up from his chair, the sound of the legs scraping against the hardwood.

“We were afraid you were going to pick one of us over the other and our friendships would be ruined. It was a childish and petty thing to do and every single night I have nightmares about hearing your screams from that fucking videotape. I’ll never forgive myself for letting someone like yourself get hurt because I was scared that the one person I’d seen as a friend would lose interest when they found out more about me.” Johnny’s chest heaved as his hands balled into fists.

Your eyes widened, he was afraid you wouldn’t want to continue being friends with him because of how he acted at times?

“Johnny, is that true?” You reached down for John’s hand, squeezing his fingers lightly as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Aye. I’d always been the weird kid, the loud one, so when you came along being so friendly I was afraid I’d make you run off by being me.” Johnny’s words broke your heart, it didn’t excuse any of his actions but knowing deep down he was a scared little boy? You couldn’t even imagine.

Simon cleared his throat, wiping his palms onto his jeans as he stood up slowly. It never ceased to amaze you how much taller Simon was than everyone else on the task force.

“He’s not wrong. When you’ve been scared of making connections with people, you tend to push away people without thinking about their feelings. I truly am deeply sorry.” Simon would never be able to deserve your forgiveness, let alone your friendship, but he was willing to try.

“You two are going to make me cry.” You laughed wetly, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. 

Johnny smiled softly as he walked around your coffee table, pulling you into a gentle hug so as not to cause any pain. You pulled him in tighter, laughing softly as he knelt down onto his knees.

“Thank you, truly I’ll never deserve your kindness.” Johnny whispered into your shoulder, arms tightening around your middle.

“You deserve nice things, both of you do.” You patted Johnny’s back, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before turning your gaze to Simon.

The poor man looked ready to flee the situation entirely. He’d never done well with physical touch, not after dealing with so much death over the years, but a hug couldn’t hurt. He followed suit that Johnny had, dropping down to his knees beside the couch and pulling you into a bone crushing hug. Your laugh was wheezy as you tried to squeeze him back just as hard.

“Guess I forgot how strong you were.” Simon shrugged sheepishly as he pushed himself up and off the floor.

“Forgot you don’t spend more time in the gym, not like that one over here.” Simon jerked his thumb over at Johnny who stared back offended.

“Hey, no fighting in the house you two.” You raised a finger, like a mother scolding her two children.

They both stopped any arguing, staring away from one another as you and John laughed at their ridiculous antics. It felt good knowing that your friendship would start anew. John helped you off the couch, leading the two men out and saying their goodbyes.

It was nice knowing that even though they had their reasons for acting so foolishly, they knew it was wrong and apologized. Now the only thing you would need to worry about was planning your wedding.

You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with John.

tagging: @gaylemonshark

[rosepascal]

pedro boys when you’re not feeling well

ft: Joel Miller, Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels, Marcus Pike, Marcus Moreno, Max Phillips, Dieter Bravo

a/n: writing this in bed as i suffer from a stomach ache (maybe caused by exhausting travel day or it could be my acid reflux making my life hell idk) either way i need comfort from the boys. also first time writing a headcanon for dieter, might add max lord soon bc hes fine af

Joel Miller

Pre outbreak Joel would know exactly what to do to help. He’s dealt with his fair share of stomaches aches, fevers, colds etc. Sarah got sick a lot as a child so he knows the remedies and what makes someone feel better. He’ll cook u soup or make u toast and coax you into eating with kisses. He’ll make you drink water and let you sleep in his bed. Also gives you lots of cuddles

Post outbreak Joel still has those instincts buried in him when he sees you aren’t feeling well. He’s not as kissy as he used to be but he will do anything to help you feel better. If you even mention wanting soup or needing medicine he's out the door to get it for you. He’s a grump though so he’ll be a bit more blunt like telling u to sit and stop whining when you complain about him doing so much for you. But it comes from a place of love even if he won’t admit it. Still gives the best cuddles. You just have to ask.

Din Djarin

Mando is such a sweetheart. He’s been sick and injured himself but normally he’s on his own. Suffering by himself on his ship. But after meeting you he doesn’t feel that way anymore. Every injury is now treated by you. He never ever wants you to feel the way he used to feel so he’ll be right by your side. Returning the care and compassion you give him. He has bacta if you need it but sometimes you just have to ride out the sick feeling. He gets you whatever you want. Tasking Grogu to stay with you as he goes into town. He’ll take real good care of you until you’re back to normal.

Frankie Morales

Frankie, sweet Frankie. Oh he’s just a total sweetheart. He’s a bit of a worry wart though. Oh you should have seen him the first time his baby girl got sick. She cried in his arms and his heart broke because he couldn’t do anything to help her. He goes a little overboard sometimes. He’s at your side in an instant. Immediately jumping to the worst conclusion even if its just a stomach ache. He doesn’t like to see you sick because it worries him to no end. Even if you promise you’re okay. He probably has some cure he promises you will help that he learned in the military. But he can also make you mac and cheese and sit with you on the couch.

Jack Daniels

Whiskey is basically your maid when you are sick. He calls you a million sweet pet names as he lets you sit in his bed all comfy and brings you anything you ask for. He’ll also go to ginger for medicine, knowing whatever she can give you will have you right as rain in a day. He is a bit of a tease though. Saying stuff like “Poor baby.” and “Don’t feel good huh?” His tone is light and joking and you tend to play along. Pouting and nodding your head. Telling him that only his cuddles and that soup from the deli downtown is all you need. He’ll laugh but get it for you in a heartbeat.

Marcus Pike

Oh my god this man is the perfect partner when you are sick. At first you're pretty upset because you have to cancel your date with him. Date nights are already hard to plan given both of your jobs. He can tell something is wrong the moment he hears you over the phone. Even though you tell him that you're fine and promise to make it up to him he still shows up to your place 30 minutes later with food. He'll turn on an old movie and wrap you in a blanket and let you fall asleep in his arms.

Marcus Moreno

I feel like Marcus is also a pretty anxious guy but like Joel and Frankie he's got the dad knowledge on how to make someone feel better. Plus his mothers surefire cures. He comes after work because as much as he wishes, he can't miss work. But he's constantly messaging you to make sure you're okay. He offers to let you stay at his place but you don't want to get him or Missy sick. Though its a losing battle because both him and Missy don't care and want you around. Missy will keep you company while Marcus makes you tea and soup. The night ends with family cuddles and a lot of love.

Max Phillips

Vampires can't get sick like humans so there's no worry about getting him sick. Max wants you to feel better as soon as possible, mostly because you don't taste as good when you're sick and its not as fun for you. But also because he cares about your wellbeing of course. He's bit of a pain though because he's at work and you're texting him to pick you up some medicine and he's being a tease about it. Telling you how out of the way it is and how expensive it is but obviously he's going to get it for you. He just likes it when you beg :) He'll get you everything you ask for and more. As for cuddles he is happy to be your ice pack. He also offers to turn you so you don't have to feel like this ever again. Mostly joking, but a part of him isn't.

Dieter Bravo

Dieter will buy you all the expensive medicine and the fluffiest blankets and food from the highest end restaurant if it will make you feel better. Well it's his money but he has assistants to actually go and get it for him. Dieter is no stranger to feeling like shit so he knows what helps. Lots of snuggling in his bed, he won't let you leave unless its for the bathroom. Honestly, he's probably hungover in some capacity the same morning so its a lot of sleeping and being sick together.

[mykoreanlove]

Bite me 🫦

Your lips traced his throat ever so slightly. Even though you could never hurt him, you still treated him like a precious gem.

His skin was pale and cold as ice but you didn’t mind, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taemin‘s firm hands glided over your body, holding you close to his chiseled chest.

You mumbled mindless words of appreciation against his skin, supporting each compliment with a loving kiss.

„Baby, what are you mumbling there?“

You smirked and kissed your way upward to his ear, whispering softly.

„Bite me, Tae.“

If his blood could freeze, it would, but since he was being dead for ages that was out of the question.

Taemin grabbed you by the shoulders and answered firmly.

„No. We’ve been over this, y/n.“

You whined in annoyance.

„No, YOU‘VE been over this. I want it still.“

Disappointment was in his eyes, he never had hated his condition more than he did now.

He shook his head relentlessly.

„Forget it. I’m not turning you into a vampire, y/n.“

You crossed your arms and sulked.

„Don’t you want to be with me forever?“

He perked up at the sadness in your voice. Taemin‘s hand caressed your cheek softly. He knew he had to control himself around you as you were human and easy to break.

„I couldn’t think of anything greater than spending the rest of eternity with you, my love.“ He placed a kiss on your soft knuckles while looking tenderly into your eyes. „But I won’t kill you.“

You sighed in annoyance.

„It’s not like you’re actually going to kill me, you know? I’ll turn into a powerful vampire and then we can be together. Forever. You and me, Tae.“

He eyed you cautiously. Normally, he granted you every wish and reveled in delight but what you asked of him was too much. How could he kill the love of his life?

Taemin cleared his throat before answering.

„You haven’t thought this through. Your body is going to be dead, y/n. You won’t be feeling butterflies when I kiss you and your heart won’t skip a beat when I make love to you anymore.

It’s going to be cold and pale. You’ll be obsessed with blood, suffering a hunger you have never felt before. You‘ll become reckless and egoistic, killing for your pleasure. This is not pretty, y/n.

You will never see the sunlight again without taking precautions and also… you’ll never have kids. You are still so young, how can you ask me that?“

Your hands grabbed his neck as you pulled him closer to you.

„Don’t you get it? I don’t want to have kids, I don’t want to have a family unless it’s with you, Tae. I’ll drink animal blood if I have to - I don’t care.

I don’t want to grow old while you’re staying the same. I don’t want to die of age while you’re continuing to live without me. I want to be with you forever because I fucking love you so much. Can’t you see that?“

Taemin noticed a tear rolling down your cheek. His right thumb brushed over it softly.

„Y/N, baby. I love you. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you and I never thought that I’d get to experience love like this. Especially not as a bloodlust monster.

But You are meant to live. You’re not supposed to share my fate. I don’t want that for you.“

You looked into his concerned eyes while wiping away your tears.

„Is this your last word on this?“

Taemin nodded.

„Fine“, you got up hastily and broke contact. „I’m gonna find another way then.“

Angrily, you slammed the door behind you and walked away. Taemin clasped his hands over his head and sighed in desperation. He was certain you meant every word you said and that frightened him the most.

[llondonfog]

twst (horror) tober — day 4 (needle)

➤ Day 4: Needle | “It’s just a tiny sting. You won’t notice it at all.”

"I do not blame you," Malleus whispers in his ear, sonorous voice saccharine sweet with sympathy. Silver trembles as if held in place, a flickering, dying flame against the madness that looms supreme over his shoulder. "Is that not what you wished for? Absolution from your prince?"

There's the ghost of a smirk lurking beneath Malleus' merciful words, they both know it. The derisive irony of it all— a prince of a stolen kingdom, lost to the cruel passage of time, and groomed so perfectly to the very model of a sacrificial soldier, bending the knee to those who could have been equals instead of superiors.

"You long for it, do you not?" Malleus continues in the way of a flood— relentless and inevitable. "For the simpler times, before you were burdened with the weight of such poisonous knowledge." Dark-tipped talons caress through his hair fondly, almost infantilizing. Silver can feel the ink sloughing off those sharp nails, spilling over his scalp and staining the moonlight gleam of his hair. He does not pull away.

The dark, at least, is familiar; it is the dawn now that he fears.

"I cannot righten the wrongs of your father, the secrets that were not his to keep from you. But I can ease the ache within your heart." Malleus sighs, a full-body release that seems to carry within it all the pent-up sorrows of the world as he rests a heavy hand against Silver's shoulder. An anchor, lined with lead. "My dear knight, what kind of prince would I be if I could not do that for you— you, who has suffered most of all?"

As if in response, the emerald glow around the needle of the spinning wheel before them beckons with a lovely, pulsing blur; a heartbeat of sorts, and he can feel his own breath slowing to match the soothing, rhythmic call.

To not think anymore...to sink into the deepest of shadows, where he could be alone forever, unable to haunt the pleasant dreams of his father with his repulsive visage so like that knight—

He thinks he lifted his arm first, but he can no longer tell as Malleus takes his hand in a farce of fealty, sliding that accursed ring on his finger in a twisted pledge of loyalty, a sick reversal of roles. "Allow me to protect you in your dreams, princeling," the murmur suffocates his senses, laying upon them in a syrupy haze. "You need not keep up this silly pretense of chivalry around me."

Silver ought to protest, but his tongue is too thick for his mouth, his limbs feel as if they've been lined with cotton, and his thoughts simply slide like oil and water if he attempts to consider anything but the enchanting gleam of the needle, shimmering before him with a kindness he does not deserve. He ought to protest, but it is far easier to feel the dull sting of metal pierce the willing flesh of his finger, to watch through fluttering lashes as crimson dark as berries wells up to drip along his skin, staining the ring affixed there, to consign himself to a sleep deeper than death— the only gift he has the right to give to his dearly beloved family.

"Sleep, dear prince," Malleus' voice comes from so very far away, and he listens, obeys, faithful to the very end.

"And may the blessing of my eternal night be upon you."

[animeyanderelover]

could I request itachi,kakashi,hashirama,neji,obito, madara,naruto,tsunade,minato, with a darling who wears revealing clothing?ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Legit found out just today that Kakegurui Twin wil air this year❣️

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusions, paranoia, stalking, manipulation, protective behavior, abduction, threats

S/o wears revealing clothes

Madara Uchiha

🌑I’d give the advice to not do it for the very simple reason that Madara is possessive, the borderline of territorial even. Everything about his s/o belongs solely to him, their body naturally included. We’re also talking about an older area where traditional clothes were very common so alongside with his possessive side it’d probably not go too well down with the clan to have you walking around with those clothes. The elder especially seem to make a fuss about it, order you to wear proper clothing like kimonos with the clan symbol on it. Back to Madara though.

🌑He probably won’t really let you leave for too long with such clothes because he always tags along only to throw death glares at everyone who checks you out. Frankly spoken, he is more annoyed than he is jealous whenever you catch eyes and it won’t take incredibly long for him to boil over and drag his darling back. He leaves them with the choice of either wearing something that covers their body more or to just stay inside. Madara loves it when his darling shows their body, but only when he knows that he’s the only one that can see you.

Hashirama Senju

🌳Once again we find ourselves in an era of strict traditions and so his clan properly tries to push Hashirama’s darling into wearing fitting clothes for their time. Similar to Madara, Hashi’s s/o has a bit of a status due to their partner, who is none other than the Hokage. Hashirama himself, even if shy whenever faced with your outfits, tries to have a more open-minded outlook. He puts your comfort really high, as long as you’re happy he is too. So he goes against his clans wishes and instead lets you wear what you like to wear. He has a limit though where he puts his foot down.

🌳Sometimes genuinely can’t look at you since he feels like he’d be disrespectful by staring. Less possessive unless someone is very obviously checking you out for a long time. He’s more protective, worried that you’ll suffer from lower self-consciousness if people just look at you and your body in disgust or their stares make you feel insecure. Tends to get quicker protective and paranoid than you, shielding you when the glances thrown in your direction become too much for him. He puts his Hokage robe over you whenever he feels anxious in your place.

Tsunade Senju

🐌Traditional clothes aren’t that big of a problem for her anymore, except of still strictly traditional clans like the Hyuga. There is no real denial that Tsunade clearly hesitates a bit whenever she sees your outfits. Ninja in her village tend to wear similar outfits but since you are her beloved, her reaction differs a bit. Tsunade is iffy, adores her darling though so she can be convinced with a bit sweet talking. Similar to her grandfather, there is a certain limit on how much skin you can show and she will very clearly stop you from leaving the place unless you wear something less revealing.

🐌Her biggest worry is that you’ll be called out for your outfits and get weird looks. She herself experiences lecherous stares quite often, fears that you’ll be made a target because of your choice of clothes. It isn’t to the point where she grows overbearing but she does seem to ask you often if there have been any accidents. Don’t let her hear from such an event though because she will come for that person and lecture them. It’s even more scary when she’s there to witness it in person and yanks the person away by their collar with a very scary and pissed look on her face.

Minato Namikaze

⚡️He is a open-minded sweetheart so he will allow it for his darling to walk around with their choice of outfits. Minato has established some rules though with you since there is only that much he thinks of as appropriate and you’ll find him turning a bit more strict if you want to leave with something too revealing. He doesn’t accept arguments when he is set on being a tad bit more controlling. The quite common worries of you either being body-shamed or catcalled also comes to his mind, luckily Kushina is often your companion. She’ll lecture someone properly.

⚡️He can’t deny that he feels a tad bit jealous though when you get positive feedback and attention in public. He’s happy of course since you are gorgeous but can’t deny the ever so slight poke of jealousy. He usually knows that his position ensures that no one will try to court you yet he resorts to clinging a bit more to you in situations where you get compliments for your choice of clothes or for looking pretty. On the other hand he will give everyone who said something rude a very stern glare and the demand for an apology.

Kakashi Hatake

📖Way too protective and way too possessive to let his darling leave the house with revealing clothes. Kakashi is quite restrictive when it comes to such things, isn’t a fan of the thought of his s/o walking around in clothes that show too much of their body. Some of those outfits are absolutely flabbergasting as clearly shown by his slightly widened eyes for a friction of a second. Ushers you instantly back to choose something less revealing. He’s quite stubborn so it’s about impossible to talk with him and just as difficult to sneak past him. He at least seems to be amused.

📖Threatens to throw your outfits away and force you to only wear his clothes if you continue to try to go under people with your clothes. It’s hard to figure out whether or not this is a lie from him. Undeniably Kakashi has certain favorite outfits but just like with Madara, he’s only really fine with you wearing those when it’s just the two of you. It’s probably better to keep those outfits for only him because if you do manage to wear somewhat revealing clothes, Kakashi is much more touchy and possessive with this silent warning in his eyes. Get used to him getting lost in his fantasies.

Obito Uchiha

🔥He is extremely jealous and simultaneously paranoid to have his s/o walking around with their clothes and get the occasional glance and whisper behind their back. He hates the attention you get and despises everyone who has to say something against you. Luckily that problem is solved once he kidnaps you. He probably wouldn’t really see the need to forbid you to continue wear your outfits but he’ll just have a hard time looking properly at you. Funny how bashful he tends to turn, averting his gaze only to take peeks every now and then.

🔥Extremely touchy as he is already, he seems to turn slightly worse now with your clothes. His hands are constantly glued to you and whenever he can, he wants to hold you with his hands traveling around. He’d probably even be the type to get you actively new outfits to doll you up a bit. Obito knows that he’s the only one able to see you so why shouldn’t he take a bit advantage? You love your outfits as well. Be prepared for his gaze to follow you after his initial shyness everywhere and just like his friend, Obito gets lost in his own dreams as well.

Itachi Uchiha

🍡Itachi has slight troubles to adjust to your fashion at first since he was raised by a more traditional clan himself. He can get used to it though unless it doesn’t border for him the borderline of inappropriate. Especially after you’ve been abducted by him, he sees no need to take your clothes away from you. You’re now alone with him and partially his guilty mind speaks to him to let you continue at least one thing you’ve always liked. You can’t keep proper conversations though if your outfits are too much for him since he will always look elsewhere.

🍡You might even see a very slight tingle of pink on his cheeks. Itachi is rather honest so he will tell you when an outfit makes him personally uncomfortable or not since he doesn’t want to be disrespectful by staring somewhere else on your body. The Uchiha finds himself keeping his thoughts free from a dirty mind he tends to have sometimes. He’s embarrassed and ashamed whenever he catches himself in the act and tries to stop himself. Itachi still would want his darling to have a set of rather normal clothes as well for rainy days and colder months.

Neji Hyuga

🕊With the Hyuga clan involved, I do see some troubles since they’re known as a traditional clan who abides strictly by rules. Clothes are included and since Neji was raised with that sort of mindset, he struggles internally with darling’s choice of clothes. He doesn’t find it quite appropriate even if he does know that other people walk around in similar pieces of clothes. The Hyuga finds himself troubled with the thought of you being potentially catcalled or made fun of. You should just stay with him the Hyuga compound where you’re safe.

🕊Known for his composure, even Neji struggles with the way some people look at you and usually he returns the favor by shooting back a scary glare. He attempts to coax you into wearing more traditional clothes when in the campus as well and since he is quite a sweet talker, he’ll probably be able to convince his s/o. As someone whipped for you, you’ll be able to play the same card on him and convince him with a little begging to let you continue with your fashion. Be prepared for him to get you back to the estate as soon as he hears someone making a unnecessary comment.

Naruto Uzumaki

🍜He’s probably constantly choking on his ramen whenever he catches a glimpse of his darling. He’s friends with people like Ino who show more skin as well but it’s a completely different story with his s/o. He’s a person driven by jealousy so he already gets uncomfortable with the mere thought of possible attention you could get by wearing such revealing outfits. It’s not that hard to convince him at first but Naruto is just as fast to turn paranoid and jealous when he starts feeling like everyone is checking you out. Eventually his string will snap.

🍜Chances are that he’ll yell at someone out of jealousy, coupled with his clingy behavior. He’s gawking at you himself here and there, turns red upon looking at your clothes. He’s protective though so with certain outfits he won’t let you go outside, instead clinging onto you and begging you to change. As someone with a history of perverted teachers such as Kakashi and Jiraiya, it’s no wonder that he sometimes has his dirty moments as well. He just shouldn’t let Sakura catch him in the act since she’ll scold him properly.

[void-ink-studios]

Prohibited Love Story

“Hey Scrabby, you’re not gonna believe this! The Boss is so impressed with my work that I’m getting a brand new job! I’m gonna be the Wishmaster!”

“Really? I’m so proud of you, Darling! I know you’ll do great.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be here in the first place if it wasn’t for your help.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re a brilliant wizard and a hard worker. You’ve earned this.”

“Aw, thank you Lovebug. But I still feel like you deserve something cool too. Maybe, something like this?”

“What is this?”

“I created this big crystal for you. It’s actually a Multi-tool, that’s supposed to make your job a little easier.”

“You know me so well.~”

“I also added an extra surprise gift, inside the crystal… Go ahead, look inside Scrabby.”

A soft gasp.

“A… A diamond ring?”

“Scarab, I love you more then anything in the cosmos. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. You’re my best and closest friend. And I want to spend the rest of eternity with you. So… will you marry me?”

“…Yes… Yes, I will.”

A loving kiss.

“Glob, I’m so lucky to have you Scrabby-Baby… I love you so much.”

“I know… And I love you too, Wizmo.”

~~~

They were supposed to get married, after Wizmo had transformed into the Wishmaster.

The wedding would’ve happened right inside of the Time Room.

They both had planned everything.

But Wizmo is called Prismo now.

And he doesn’t remember Scarab at all.

Apparently, that’s the price of being Wishmaster. You forget your past life. It’s a cruel, yet clever thing to do. Without any memories of who they used to be, the Wishmaster won’t be tempted to leave the job or wake up. After all, you can’t miss what you don’t remember.

If only Scarab knew what would happen. He would’ve prevented Wizmo from taking that cursed job. He would’ve fought every god to keep Wizmo safe. But Scarab didn’t know until it was too late. As a result, it completely changed both of their lives. Yet only Scarab was suffering for it.

Prismo seemed to be content with his new life. He grants the mortals’ wishes, like he’s supposed to. He also threw a lot of parties and made so many new friends. Scarab tried to make Prismo remember who he used to be. But all he got was an awkward, confused expression on Prismo’s pink face. Although Scarab didn’t show it, it was breaking his heart.

Scarab started to ignore Prismo and his party invitations. Then he began to push everyone away and focus on his work. When he worked, it was easier to forget the pain.

Cosmic Owl had tried to convince Scarab to give Prismo a second chance.

“He may have lost his memories and changed his name, but he is still Wizmo. He still cares about you Scrabby, even if he can’t remember. Don’t you see the happy sparkle inside his eye, whenever he sees you?”

Scarab simply ignores him and continues with his work.

The God-Auditor could feel the silent waves of disappointment and sympathy coming from the Cosmic Owl.

Eventually, he leaves Scarab alone.

The bird was a fool.

It’s true, that Prismo was a lot like Wizmo.

He looks like him.

He smiles like him.

He even sounds like him.

But Prismo is NOT Wizmo.

But that’s okay.

Because Scarab can find a way to get rid of Prismo and finally be allowed to wake Wizmo up.

All he has to do is wait for Prismo to make a mistake.

~~~

He did everything right.

He was so close.

So close to getting his Wizmo back.

But he was defeated by a glowing dandelion, of all things. It was literally the dumbest thing that ever happened to him. With the cherry on top being The Boss telling him that he wasn’t allowed to destroy the copycat universe anymore. Even though he had permission a few minutes ago. All the crossover did was blow on a weed, it shouldn’t count!

Why is the entire multiverse against him? He never asked for much. All he wants is his best friend and fiance back. They can easily find a new Wishmaster. There are countless other wizards who’d love to take the job. It doesn’t have to be Wizmo!

But Scarab’s opinions never mattered to the other gods. When that phone call with the Boss had ended, he knew that he was defeated. It was over.

So, if Scarab can’t have his happy ending…

“Hey, Mister Scarab… No hard feelings, okay?”

… then neither can Prismo or his creations.

“No hard feelings?!”

He doesn’t care whether or not the Boss will destroy him for this later. He lost everything. Nothing matters anymore. He will never be with Wizmo again. And it’s all that arrogant tomboy’s fault.

Now her whole world is gonna pay for it.

“I’M GONNA TEAR DOWN PRISMO’S PRECIOUS SANDCASTLE WITH MY BARE HANDS!”

~~~

Scarab still can’t believe it.

Prismo helped him.

Despite everything that Scarab did, despite almost destroying the giant glorified genie’s creations, Prismo helped him.

But that shouldn’t be possible. Prismo was not Wizmo anymore. He lost all his memories. He doesn’t remember Scarab at all. So the Wishmaster shouldn’t care what happened to the Auditor.

Yet Prismo still defended Scarab.

After he failed, Scarab was ready to accept oblivion or a demotion, with open arms. He felt nothing and said nothing, while the Boss and Orbo were deciding his punishment. Their words were like numbing static inside Scarab’s ears.

But then Prismo suddenly came rushing in, with terror in his eyes.

Why was he so afraid?

Shouldn’t he be happy that he would never see Scarab again?

The pink shadow tried his best to stay calm, while explaining that giving Scarab a big punishment over Prismo’s actions wasn’t fair. Prismo, as usual, used his weird charm to sway others to see things his way. Prismo then whispered an idea into the Boss’s ear.

Prismo was gently lifting up the depressed bug. The pink humanoid was talking to Scarab about something, but Scarab couldn’t hear him and simply nodded to everything he said. The next thing Scarab knew, they were both surrounded by the rainbow light of Prismo’s teleportation magic.

The last thing Scarab saw before passing out from exhaustion was the hypnotic stars and galaxies inside Prismo’s warm, blue eyes… They looked so much like Wizmo’s eyes.

Scarab woke up to the sight of his own sleeping body.

He looked around the room in a daze and saw that Wizmo’s eternally slumbering and ancient body was nearby.

Wasn’t Wizmo placed somewhere else?

Scarab tried to talk closer towards his fiance, but he quickly realized that he was stuck on the wall.

He looked down at his hands.

They were much less detailed and blue for some reason.

This must be Prismo’s weird idea for a punishment.

Scarab tried walking inside the walls in his new 2D form, but he keeps stumbling despite himself.

He would’ve fallen, if it wasn’t for a warm pink hand saving him from the fall.

“Surprise!~”

“Prismo?!”

And there the WishMaster was, in all his playful and smug glory.

~~~

Prismo had apparently convinced the Boss to give Scarab a chance to become WishMaster.

By being Prismo’s apprentice and glorified butler.

Scarab didn’t even want to actually be WishMaster.

It was a lie to hide Scarab’s true plans, so he wouldn’t get in trouble for wishing to commit a cosmic crime.

Just when Scarab thought that he couldn’t sink any lower.

~~~

Working for Prismo isn’t as terrible as Scarab thought that it would be.

Prismo is definitely kinder and more patient with him then Orbo.

Prismo even allows Scarab to create stories with him.

Just like they used to in the past.

Wizmo always had the most brilliant writing skills.

And Prismo had inherited those same skills.

It’s true, that Prismo was a lot like Wizmo. He looks like him. He smiles like him. He sounds like him. He even cares about Scarab like him.

The Dream was still so much like the Sleeper… but that fact doesn’t hurt Scarab’s scarred little heart as much as it used to.

Maybe Scarab should give Prismo a chance.

Maybe that’s what Scarab should have done all along.

💖 

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

ANON YOU GET BACK HERE AND ANSWER FOR THIS!!!!

[underfaller]

Chapter 7: ζ (Pt.2)

Pairing: dottore x angel!reader

Summary: You are a Heavenly Messenger from Celestia that’s been captured by a mysterious Doctor

CW: violence

Word count: 3k

You find yourself in a familiar place. You take small, tentative steps forward, looking around with an emotionless gaze. It’s nighttime. The empty streets of Celestia are quiet as usual. You’d usually revel in such silence, but right now, it makes you feel even more wistful and lonely. As you continue walking, you see a familiar person. She’s standing in front of the fountain you two always sat at as children. You know who it is before you even remember her name. You place a hand on her and as she turns around, a lump forms in your throat. 

“R-rider?”  

Rider doesn’t answer you. In fact, she refuses to even look at you. That messy, vermillion hair of hers covers half her face, obscuring her expression. You don’t care though. You embrace her, choking back a sob. 

 “I’ve missed you.”

You step back, giving her a wry smile to ease the awkward silence. 

“Do you even recognize me?”

Your friend still doesn’t answer. It’s then that you suddenly feel upset. 

No, it isn’t sudden. You’ve always been upset, ever since the last night you spent together. Sad that she left, angry that she was so eager to. Or maybe you’ve been upset longer than that. Not just at her, but at Celestia, mortals, the other messengers, and most of all, you. 

But right now, only one of those individuals is in front of you, so you can’t help but direct this pent up despair and frustration at your closest friend. 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” You whisper, gritting your teeth as your fists clench. “Do you even remember me? Or have you found new friends exploring Teyvat? I think about you-- I thought about you-- every day for so long. But you… You’ve probably forgotten all about me.”

You let out a humorless laugh.

“If you hadn’t left, if we’d stayed together, if you’d kept your promise-- perhaps things would’ve gone differently. This is all your fault!”

She stays silent. 

“Say something, gods dammit!” You yell. You feel your anger take over as you grab Rider by the collar of her shirt, shaking her violently. Her head lobs about like a doll before she snaps forward, looking at you and smirking. 

“Well?” You spit. 

Rider opens her mouth, uttering, “My, my. You have quite the fever.”

Your eyes snap open. Dottore’s standing over you, hand on your forehead, that familiar smug expression on his face.  

“Pyrexia after a fracture is often caused by infection, my dear.” 

Instantly, you jerk away from him, the sudden movement sending waves of pain through your broken appendages as you press yourself against the wall. Despite your dreams, you wish you’d stayed asleep. You wince as you let out a hiss of pain. 

“Get away from me.”

Dottore crosses his arms. 

“Hmph. Why do you continue to fight me? Perhaps you don't want my help.” Dottore frowns and shrugs before narrowing his eyes at you. “No matter. I wouldn't help you anyways. You've brought this upon yourself, after all. I'm simply here to observe the effects of your injuries.”

You are well aware that he won’t. This isn’t the first time the Doctor has come to visit you. He simply comes to check if you’re still alive or to mock you like right now. You glare, but it’s a pitiful facade- like an animal's last ditch effort to survive. You’re half delirious from the fever and pain-- perhaps it’s making you bolder. Or maybe you just didn’t care what he did to you anymore. Something inside you snapped when he broke your wings. You truly were defeated. 

But there’s no way in hell you’d let him know. 

“Your delight in my suffering is a bit too evident, Doctor. I'm beginning to think you wanted me to attempt an escape so you could do this.”

Dottore hums with amusement.

“I won't deny it adds a bit of spice to our already interesting dynamic. But no, my dear, I'm simply making use of the situation,” He leans forward, gazing deep into your indignant face. “In fact, I'm a bit disappointed that you would fall for such an obvious trap. Perhaps I overestimated you.”

“Tch.” You scoff. You feel a bit of satisfaction seeing Dottore’s face twitch with annoyance. You know he hates it when you do that. 

“It would have been even more illogical to stay. Even a sliver of chance that I may have to leave you is worth the risk.” 

“Fascinating. You still have some fight left in you despite everything. You’re not as weak-willed as I thought,” The Doctor reaches for your cheek, mockingly caressing it, before lifting your chin sharply with a gloved finger. He gives you a toothy grin. “ But do you really think you can escape me that easily? Did you really think you’d be able to kill a Harbinger? You may pretend, but you certainly are not the strongest individual.” 

Your head pounds. It’s hard to focus on your conversation in this state. Your body is clammy as you feel a chill run through you. How is it possible to be so hot yet so cold at the same time? Still, through your ailments, you glare at Dottore. 

“I'm not stronger than you, no, but you're not perfect... as much as you believe you are...I'll just wait till you actually do slip up.”

It’s at those words that Dottore lets out a roar of laughter.

“Ohoho! Is that so? Then you’ll be waiting an eternity because I do not ‘slip up’.” 

His fingers move from your chin to your neck, tracing your jugular vein. 

“I must say, I do miss the obedient, docile version of you,” Dottore muses. “This rebellious streak is a bit childish, no? Perhaps I should rip out your vocal chords so I don’t have to hear your little, snippy remarks.”

As he says that, his hand wraps around throat. His tight grip cuts your airflow as he presses your head painfully against the wall. Your hand clasps over his, trying to pry his fingers off. 

You’ve never hated this man more than now. You would try to escape a hundred times and more if it meant even a chance of freedom. However, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret for attempting to do so. Part of you wishes you’d never tried and had continued being his good, little assistant. Part of you wishes he wouldn’t be upset with you. Still, your anger outweighs any desire to please this monster.  You cough, choking out a reply. 

“Do what you want.... at least I know you won't kill me. You need me.”

Dottore lets out another laugh. 

“Oh? Do I indeed?” Dottore states. His grip tightens as he leans forward, whispering, “Don’t think too highly of yourself. You may be my favorite test subject in a while, but I certainly don't ‘need’ you. And I certainly don't want mouthy, disobedient subjects. If you were any regular mortal, your corpse would already be floating down the Snezhnaya River.” 

Dottore lets go of you and you fall forward a bit, coughing. Your hand finds its way towards your throat. You grimace as you lightly touch your aching skin. You don’t have to see your neck in the mirror to know it’s already bruising. Dottore’s hand brushes against your right wing, bruised and swollen. A wicked glint flashing across his masked face.  

“As a scientist, I shouldn't be interfering with the subject during such an experiment, however...Sometimes amusement is more important than curiosity when it comes to these things.”

You let out a pained gasp as Dottore suddenly squeezes your wing. You try to move away, but he pushes you back, climbing on the cot. His knee presses into your body as he straddles you in place, giving you no escape from his torment. Dottore continues to dig his hand into your broken wing, feeling precisely where he snapped your radius and presses it. You try not to cry-- you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears. You bite the inside of your lip until a metallic taste fills your mouth. 

“What’s that? Aren’t you going to say something? No more retorts?” Dottore chuckles, squeezing your broken wing even harder.

Dottore smiles viciously as he watches you writhe under him. He’s enjoying every moment of this. As the torment goes on, you betray yourself and your face is soon tearstained as you cry and beg him to stop. You regret even speaking at this point. The room is filled with the sounds of Dottore laughing and your own cries. How did he always manage to reduce you to such a pathetic state? 

You can feel your consciousness slipping. With your fever, your delirium, and this pain-- you’ve overexerted yourself. As your eyes close, one last thought passes through your mind.

I wish things would go back to the way they were. 

There’s a loud crash in the lab. Several glass jars shatter on the ground. Dottore has thrown the Khaenri'ahn journal at the wall. 

How long has he been trying to decipher this piece of trash?

You’re taking your anger out on an inanimate object when it’s your own shortcomings at fault. 

“Oh shut up,” Dottore mutters to himself. He sits up, stabbing the scalpel he’s been mindlessly twirling in his fingers into the desk. There’s enough frustration in that stab to keep the blade standing upright in the wood. Dottore huffs as he shuffles over, picking the book from the ground with a long sigh. He looks down at the chemicals blending together at his feet-- those two should definitely not be mixing together. He rolls his eyes, waving his hand.  

“Darling, clean this up for me,” Dottore says, shaking the journal of the spilled contents as he turns towards where you usually are. However, instead of seeing you diligently working on whatever task he’s given you, you of course, are not there.

Oh. 

That’s the last straw. Dottore slams the journal back on the ground, grumbling as he storms towards the cleaning closet in the back of the lab. He rips open the door, sending several pieces of cleaning supplies skittering across the floor. Dottore grabs what he needs, before slamming the door closed again and stomping back to his mess. 

“Must I do everything around here?” He says aloud. 

As Dottore fervently begins cleaning, his mind inevitably lingers back to you. You and that cursed journal-- it’s all he ever thought about these days. Two pains he can’t seem to get rid of. Even if you are the perfect lab rat, he’s beginning to wonder if having someone immortal around is more of a curse than a stroke of luck. 

Although, Dottore has become more accustomed to your presence than he’d like to admit. You are a bit more useful than he expected. He never realized how many mindless tasks he did until he shoved them all on you. With you out of commission, he’s stuck having to do them again. 

Furthermore, the lab is much too quiet without your snide remarks. 

“Tch,” Dottore shakes his head. 

Great, now you have him doing it too. 

It is your own fault. If you hadn’t tried to run away, he wouldn’t have broken your wings…Probably. Not at that moment, for sure. It’s your fault that you are now stuck in just a pitiful state and he’s without an assistant to clean up this mess. 

I swear, I do not have time for these things. When I decipher that asinine journal, I’ll use that knowledge to create a clone or something. Someone who doesn’t run away from me the first chance they get. 

He finishes cleaning, picking up the journal and resuming his work. 

Perhaps it would be easier to just let you translate this…

Dottore draws in a long, frustrated breath. He is a stubborn man--And prideful to boot. He’d never stoop so low as to ask someone from the gods for help. The very thought makes him recoil with disgust. 

However, the only thing Dottore could despise more than asking for help is not knowing something. He sighs and stands up, leaving the lab with the journal in hand. 

Why did it have to be you?

Dottore bursts into your room once again. It’s been a full day since he last saw you, but you still look rather irate at his presence, probably still vexed from his actions yesterday. Why did you have to always hold a grudge? He doesn’t pay heed, instead striding towards you and dropping the journal on your lap.

“You can read this, correct?” Dottore demands. 

You pick it up, flipping through its contents before nodding. 

“I already said I could read this.”

“I need you to translate it then.”

“Wait… does the great Doctor not know something? That’s actually surprising,” You say, before muttering under your breath. “And a please would’ve been nice.”

Cheeky little- 

“I do. But I want you to teach me this language as well,” Dottore responds bluntly.

“Me… teach you?” You raise an eyebrow before pursuing your lips.

“I’m still the smartest man in Teyvat. Which is why it is absolutely embarrassing to admit not knowing something as simple as an ancient dialect like this. So yes, I want you to… educate me.” 

You cock your head, “Isn't it a bit odd to ask your captive to tutor you?”

“Careful…” Dottore hisses, eyes glinting dangerously. “You have a lot of other bones I can snap.”

“Alright, I digress,” You say, giving Dottore a weak smile. You turn your attention towards the journal, flipping through it. As you do, Dottore can see your eyebrows furrowing in thought. At first, he’s afraid you actually can’t read it, but instead you turn towards him, saying, “This is absolutely blasphemy. To create life is a sin to the concept itself.”

Dottore feels relief wash over him, but he doesn’t show it, instead crossing his arms and giving a small laugh. So he was correct-- this journal contains the Art of Khemia. 

“Naturally so. The gods never allow much fun, do they?”

“I'll need another journal to translate this into. But I must say, my use of this language is a bit rusty. It’ll take me a while to refresh myself,” You respond. “Also, you don’t even know if the knowledge in this is accurate. Perhaps don’t get your hopes up?”

“Ah my darling, the thrill of discovery is exhilarating in itself!” Dottore declares. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Dottore’s nearly salivating over this knowledge.  He certainly does not care about morals, let alone the gods' wills themselves. In fact, the idea that this is taboo excites him more. Angering the gods? That was something he did by merely existing. You can clearly see his enthusiasm and respond with a look of disdain, however, you do not argue with him. 

You watch him leave before quickly returning with a blank journal, writing utensils, and some medical supplies. Your eyes warily glance at the tools in his hands. He laughs. 

“Oh, my sweet little birdie. Don't be so paranoid! This is for you.” Dottore hands the blank journal and pen to you. 

“And this…” He shakes the medical kit. “...Is to fix you up.”

You narrow your eyes as you skeptically examine him. 

“Tch...why are you helping me now?” You hesitate. 

Why must you always ask so many questions?

“We have a lot of work ahead of us and I need my teacher to stay conscious throughout my lessons,” Dottore explains shortly. He hands you a couple of pills. “Take these.” 

You stare at him. He sighs. Skeptical as always. 

“It’s Acetaminophen. For your fever.” 

You take it. 

As Dottore works on making a splint for your wings, you begin your translations. He peers over your shoulder curiously. The bits you’ve already written fully capture his attention. He couldn’t wait to read it in its entirety. You turn towards him. 

“Yes?” 

“Nothing,” Dottore mutters. He looks down, having completely forgotten about the task at hand. As he continues, you begin to speak.

“Why don’t you have any other assistants?” 

“What?” Dottore looks at you with confusion. “Where did such a question come from?”

“Well, when I tried to escape, I didn’t run into anyone. Now that I think of it, it’s a bit odd, no? Shouldn’t someone of your ranking have a bunch of assistants and guards?”

Dottore waves his hand in dismissal, responding shortly. 

“People find it difficult to work with me.” 

You let out a bitter laugh. 

“That is an understatement, Doctor.”

Dottore glares at you, crossing his arms. 

“Well, I don’t find them very pleasant to work with either,” He scoffs. As Dottore observes your injuries, he makes a humming noise. “I really did a number on you, didn't I?”

You turn a bit. He can see that familiar, annoyed glint in your eye. 

“Admiring your handiwork?”

Dottore laughs humorlessly. 

“Well, what can I say? I put pride in all my work.”

He continues to examine your wings. 

“Hmm... The left bone dislocated. I'll have to move it back into place before I splint it.” Dottore says as he firmly grips your left wing. 

“This may hurt quite a bit.”

You let out a hiss of pain as he quickly shifts the bone in place. You grip the sheets of the bed tightly. He can tell you’re trying very hard not to cry. He would’ve drawn out the process until you did if you weren’t translating that journal. He didn’t want your tear stains on the paper. When he’s finished, Dottore splits your appendages, wrapping a clean bandage around them. As the Doctor stands up, he can’t help but tease you one last time. 

“Poor thing. So much trauma for such a young bird. Good thing I take care of you, right?”

You open your mouth to argue, but quickly close it, deciding it wasn't worth arguing. Instead you simply respond, “Yeah....thanks.” 

Good girl. Perhaps you weren’t such a dismal assistant, after all. 

Dearest Y/N,

Celestia has ceased to give me messages to deliver, so I’ve joined the Forest Watchers in order to acclimate to life in the mortal realm. This is the one time my bow skills have been useful, haha. Despite enjoying it here, my time in Sumeru is coming to an end. I’m traveling to Liyue to aid a friend. Initially, I wanted to travel to Snezhnaya, however, the other Forest Watchers were quite adamant that I avoid that country. Apparently, there is quite a bit of unrest revolving around their politics. 

I’ve learned much and met many people. I’ve made many friends I hold dear in such a short time. However, despite the new faces I meet, my mind always wanders back to yours. I miss you, dearly. I wish you would reply. 

Rider

Past chapters here

[xcyphoz0a]

Eleutheromania

Gender neutral reader, angst TW/CW: angst, mentions of self afflicted death Character(s): Venti Word count: 848 Proofread: nope | (n) an interest or the irresistible desire for freedom | A/N: vent post + more so dumping my inner feelings from these months written as a will

Sometimes, he thinks every single string of fate cursed him to go through the waves and lengths of grief and desolation.

He can feel the desperation through the scribbled words on the paper.

The feeling of distress, anguish, misery– everything could be felt from the lines of words messily wrote into the paper, drops of ink fading from black to purple in some spaces, noticeable tear drops smudging the ink on the paper.

He wishes to be there– to be in place instead of you, suffering from the continuous torment your own mind had caused you.

Venti knew all too well about pain.

He’d like to think he knows many aspects of the feeling.

All he feels is regret, disappointment, anger, denial.

If he was just there, in that moment before you took your decision, if only he wasn’t somewhere else– perhaps this wouldn’t have happened.

Helplessly staring at the carefully placed shoes on the cliff, he picks them up, holding them close.

What if– he thinks– what if this is just a well placed joke?

He knows it’s only the torture of hope grappling onto his heavy heart, trying to provide him a source of comfort, only for it to fail as he came to the realisation that you weren’t going to be here with him anymore, looking at the stars in the night, taking him from Dawn Winery at the oddest of hours, soothing him to sleep whenever he had nightmares, all the little things that the two of you did, you weren’t going to be there with him anymore.

He could only imagine the tears that you painfully choked up from your body, alone, waiting for someone to help, the uncontrollable shaking that followed from fear and both pain. The desperate feeling for someone or something to alleviate the heavy weight on your chest, unable to breathe.

He knew your want for freedom. It didn’t make sense– the city of Mondstadt was the symbol of freedom.

What was the freedom you were talking about? Was the question that he continuously asked himself whenever you’d mention your desire for freedom.

Now, he knew what it meant. And he wishes so dearly that he was wrong.

He stands on the grassy planes of Starsnatch cliff, hands shaking as he holds your papers containing your will.

Hello, to whoever reads this; I’ll start off with something more light. I was, since I was born, felt a sense of emptiness. I didn’t know until a few years ago that the emptiness was my lack of feeling of freedom. I didn’t know what it meant. You probably don’t understand it either. I live… lived, in Mondstadt. the city of freedom. So why couldn’t I feel that emptiness being fulfilled? I don’t know either. I’ve seeked many solutions, they never worked, so please don’t come asking for my soul why I did what I did. I think my decision was the only solution I had left. Will I regret it? Perhaps. I don’t know. I really dont. But maybe, it is the key for my want of ‘freedom’ to be quenched. So if you’re reading this, I won’t be here anymore, living through memories with whoever you are. I wanted to just, say– perhaps, I wasn’t meant to be in this… body, after all. I want to… put a pause on my life. I didn’t want to bear the thought of waking up and repeating the same routine over and over again, no matter how vastly different it was to each other, I… I just couldn’t. But I don’t want to die. I really don’t want to. I never did. I just wanted to put a pause, like how someone would pause a mechanism and restart it again soon– just like that. I… I just, wanted a break from living. Don’t we all at some point? Haha… I dislike this from getting too long, but I wanted to just convey some of my thoughts, so you can just, throw this away if you’d like, I don’t mind. But still, if you’re reading this part, could you perhaps, not tell anyone? I haven’t… ‘died’, not yet at least, it’s just a pause button on my life, think of it as that, simple, right? This… will be the last few lines of this paper. I think my decision would quench my desire for freedom. I really think it will, don’t grieve. I’ll do what I want to do now. So I did. I did what I wanted to do. Find my own freedom. Goodbye. I’ll see you soon. -(Y/n)

His legs feel numb as he falls onto the ground.

Oh, how he wishes that the ‘I’ll see you soon’ would be real– he’d close and open his eyes, finding your form with him, taking him into your arms.

Venti opens his eyes, finding the stray leaves floating down from the cliff, but you weren’t there.

And all he could do was cry, the suddenness of the surge of emotion scratching the insides of his throat in the burn of anguish and grief.

[ryuichirou]

I'm kinda starving for Kalijami content right now so I hope you'll indulge me

Got any headcannons for flirty!Kalim that's 100% Jamil sexual but with oblivious!Jamil. Like here is a version of Kalim that could probably charm anyone he wants into relationship or in bed but Jamil is just like "Yes, this is completely platonic" all the while acting like wife material. Kalim is suffering from thirst and its lowkey become everyone's problem cause they're suffering from secondhand tension.

I won't deny any spicier headcannons either too if you have them 🤭

Anon! I’m very happy you’re enjoying our headcanons, and I feel like your idea has potential, so I’ll give you some headcanons. Even though, like in my previous KaliJami post, they’re probably not as nicely aligned with your idea and wishes as you wanted to. So I’m sorry for that.

But I’ll be honest: it’s a bit difficult for me to write KaliJami posts these days. Not because we stopped liking them: we still love the ship very much and I would still love to draw them more often. But it’s been a while since we’ve read anything featuring these characters (we’re focusing on other stuff right now) and my “feel” of them is worse now + they are far from being our main ship, so we naturally don’t have as many ideas for them as for others.

So what I’m saying is that I hope you or any other person won’t get upset if I don’t reply to your KaliJami ask in the future. I don’t want to give you a half-assed reply, and a lot of time I just don’t have anything to say or add, so it wouldn’t be much of a reply anyway. That being said, we really appreciate the love our KaliJami posts are getting, so thank you again.

Alright, the headcanons.

Kalim is genuinely confused about their situation. Jamil doesn’t get or notice something? That never happens. He kind of thinks that Jamil is ignoring his advances on purpose sometimes, but he is conflicted about it… What if Jamil really just doesn’t know? I guess it means that Kalim should keep flirting with him. (People around them are 1000% sure that Jamil is avoiding Kalim’s obvious flirting on purpose. There is no way it isn’t intentional)

Kalim is going to confess his feelings to Jamil but in a bizarre turn of events that wouldn’t work either, because Jamil would still tell himself that it is either platonic or Kalim is lying to himself/confused about his own feelings. Simply because Jamil doesn’t want to deal with Kalim having romantic feelings towards him, so it’s easier to just think he’s goofing around.

Their main problem is that a lot of things that Kalim does as flirting is something that he also does to all of people in a friendly way, so it makes it easier for Jamil to either assume or assure himself that he is just being friendly. For example, magic carpet rides, dances, a lot of touches, long stares in Jamil’s eyes… One time Kalim would spontaneously take Jamil on a date, take him to some extremely beautiful place with nice smelling flowers and pretty lights and romantic/intimate atmosphere, hug him, touch him, get reeeeal clingy… and Jamil would STILL think that he is just goofing around and trying to avoid doing homework or something. Let’s get back already, Kalim. (at this point he’s just in denial)

Kalim would insist on sleeping in Jamil’s bed, Jamil’s first reaction would be annoyed “are you having nightmares?”. It’s almost like Kalim is mentally a toddler in his mind… But when Kalim makes his move and starts kissing and touching Jamil this time, I feel like he wouldn’t be able to lie to himself anymore. They would end up having sex, because despite Jamil being/acting oblivious, the tension between them is quite strong. So once Kalim takes Jamil’s clothes off, starts kissing his neck, his ears, touching his hips and spreading his legs, it’d be an “oh” moment.

…luckily for Jamil, he would tell himself a different lie this time: Kalim is a hormonal horny spoiled stubborn rich kid that always gets what he wants. So of course he would want to also have Jamil. Doesn’t mean any of it is romantic..right?

[ashes-writing-corner]

A bit of a shorter update tonight guys! But I hope you like it anyway ^^

TW: mentions abuse/childhood trauma, non descriptive.

Taglist: @stargatenovus

Ghosts That We Knew

13- A Dead Man's Letter

You were still on the hunt for a therapist weeks after the confrontation with Ghost. Getting one wasn’t easy, and to be honest you weren’t in any rush to find one. It wasn’t that you had lied to him, at least not intentionally. You had already mentioned you didn’t like therapists, you didn’t trust them. You didn’t want to be just another doctor’s paycheck. It wasn’t like they cared about you anyway. However, to set Ghost’s mind at ease, you told Ellie’s therapist you were searching for one. Thankfully for you, they were more than willing to help you find an ideal one. 

For the time being, you were perfectly fine with running your business, which was doing pretty well. Life went on as normal. You kept Simon’s file in a locked safe in your room, so no one could get to it and you still had it close at hand in case you needed it. But on more than one occasion you found an envelope either on your bed, your nightstand, or on the floor in your room. You knew what it was. Simon’s letter. Ghost was asking you to read it, without speaking of course. Needing to regain his strength, he had gone quiet in the weeks following. 

You sat in bed, contemplating opening it, when your phone rang. An unknown number…

You didn’t pick it up, as you didn’t pick up unknown numbers. If it was important they’d leave a message. You flipped the silent phone over, thinking it wouldn’t be so distracting as you picked up the envelope. But after a minute, you just decided to put it in the nightstand and just focus on what it was he had written. Taking a slightly shaking breath, you decided to open the letter and give it a read, being delicate so as not to rip anything. The paper was already yellowing a little, meaning he wrote this a good long time ago. You blinked as you took in Simon Riley’s handwriting, which admittedly wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t illegible. 

To the poor soul reading this, 

Since you’re reading this, two things have happened. 1. I’m dead. And 2. You’re the poor sap who got stuck with this heart. Just to let you know, you’re only one of a few letters I’ll be writing, as I’m hoping all my bits get used. Hell knows I’m not using them anymore. 

A heart’s a heavy burden, and believe me I know that better than most. You’ve probably read all my stuff, as I signed the release forms earlier today. Without it, it’d be illegal for you to even see my records. But as the knew…keeper, I guess, for arguably my most important organ, I figured that was important info in there for you to know. But it doesn’t tell you everything. Only what you need to know. Maybe some notes from therapy thrown in for flavor, mental evaluations and all that. But they don’t tell you a damn thing about me. Who I was, what I wanted from life, all of that. Things about me that not even my closest friends know, few as they are.  The dreams I had, the hopes I mislaid. They’re not mine anymore. But…I want you to know this: They aren’t yours either. 

The truth is, I wanted to spend my life making the world a better place, so no one has to know what it means to suffer the way I did. This isn’t meant for you to pity me, but to understand why I made the decision to become a soldier and a donor. I lived a hard life, came from a bad home with a half mad father and, for a time, a drug abusing brother. I rose above that though, challenging as it was. I got my brother the help he needed, kicked our father out, and did my best to make sure everyone was happy before I made that choice. You, whoever you are, are the last person I’m saving, and the one who’s face at the very least I won’t know. And yet you’re being trusted with the most vital part of me…crazy isn’t it? And I don’t trust easy admittedly. 

All I got is one last wish, one last demand. I want you to live. I want you to live your life, and live it in the best way you can. Live it harmlessly, if you can. Help others when you can, but don’t enslave yourself. Live selfishly, at least a little, something I never got to do. Live…fully. I guess is what I’m trying to say. 

And drop that thought most likely going through your head: “This heart isn’t mine”. Trust me, it’s yours. It was meant to be yours the second I signed that paper to become a donor. This heart was always mine to lose, and it was always yours to gain. No matter what your silly brain is telling you, I’m telling you this right bloody now: I did not die because of you. You. Did. Not. Do. This. I chose, as I always have. And now you have a choice. Choose better than me. Choose to live your life. Be a bit selfish, because I wasn’t always able to be. But live. Just…live. And know, even though we’ll never meet, know that I’m so proud of you for fighting this battle, whatever it is that landed you this. I’m happy that I got to help you. And now you know the only thing I ask in return. 

Live your life. And take care of my heart. It was always meant to be yours, in some way or another…

Stay frosty. 

Simon “Ghost” Riley, out. 

You didn’t know what to think when you read it. It seemed a bit devoid of emotion, but it was rather matter of fact. The last part got to you. It wasn’t exactly a confession as he stated, but a reiteration of the truth. Simon lived on. Was living on. And he was doing it through you. There was something so humbling about that, now that you were thinking about it with a clearer head. It didn’t entirely change how you felt, but it put it in a different light. The familiar feeling you had at the beginning of your friendship now made more sense. Simon was a part of you now. 

Taking your phone out, you decided to see who had called, and lo and behold they left a message. You listened to the voicemail, heart pounding. An unfamiliar male voice sounded. 

“Hey, Y/N, I think that’s what Soap called you? Anyway, he told me about your situation. My name’s John Price and I’m also interested in meeting you. I hope you don’t mind, there’s actually two of us coming with him, the other being Kyle Garrick. We look forward to meeting you and hopefully clearing some stuff up” there was a pause before the man continued, “We were there that night, Y/N. The night of your transplant. As I said, I can’t wait to meet you, and I hope you and your kiddo are doing okay. Don’t hesitate to give me, Soap, or Gaz a ring, alright?” he proceeded to give you the number of their last member, Kyle Garrick, before ending the message. 

You almost dropped the phone. 

They were there. 

They. were. there…

If you guys enjoyed this please consider liking, reblogging, and commenting! Yall seriously give me life and keep me motivated! Thank you so much ^^

[mcx7demonbros]

MC goes to Hell

Ft. GN!MC, Seven Demon Brothers

Warning: mention of the punishment for Seven Deadly Sins in Hell, angst

You sided with the demon, and your life was full of sins, and you lost your ticket to everlasting happiness.

Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.

Matt 25:41

When he learned that you would end up in his ring, he told the lesser demons to take you to him. He would be in charge of your punishment himself

BELPHEGOR - SLOTH

Your eternal destination is a pit of venomous snakes. The snakes will bite every place on your body, and you won’t have a moment to rest. Once the venom entered your body, your whole soul would be in extreme pain, and the pain is renewed everyday.

Belphie will be inside the pit with you, embracing you like when you were still alive, napping peacefully beside him.

“It hurts, Belphie. My body, it’s so hot like it’s on fire.”

“I know, MC. I’m sorry.” While repeating that, Belphie will try to suck out the poison, hoping you will be in less pain, but to no avail. The more poison he sucks out, the more poison injected into you by the snakes.

LEVIATHAN - ENVY

For eternity, you will be immersed in freezing water. Your whole body is completely frozen, yet you are still shivering from the cold.

“It’s s…s…so cold, Levi.”

“I…I…will make it warmer, M…MC!” Levi immersed himself in the fire of Hell and embraced you. The fire of Hell burns his body and soul for eternity, yet you are still shivering and frozen, despite being next to each other. What a contrast!

BEELZEBUB - GLUTTONY

You will be fed rats, spiders, and toads for eternity. If you don’t want to eat, you’ll be forced fed. The taste will always be disgusting. If you think Solomon’s food will prepare you for this, you’re dead wrong. Compare to food in Hell, Solomon’s cooking tastes like Heaven.

“I can’t eat anymore, Beel. There’s nothing except the disgust taste in my mouth.”

“MC…” Beel put the rat in his mouth and kissed you, passing the rat to your mouth. The Avatar of Gluttony wished he could eat those disgusting things for you. But if he did that, Celestial Realm would demand a different demon to be in charge of your punishment. And Beel knows very well they will not be gentle to you like him.

SATAN - WRATH

Dismemberment for eternity.

”No more, please, Satan.” you cried.

“Look at me, MC. Look into my eyes, focus on me.” Satan said as he ripped off your right feet. Your scream echoed all over the ring, even though Satan had tried to be most gentle and precise, so that you wouldn’t suffer much pain. Still, the pain in Hell is infinite. Less then infinite is still infinite.

ASMODEUS - LUST

Smothered in fire and brimstone

“Asmo, I can’t…cough…cough…breathe.”

“I will give you air, darling!”

Asmo kisses you for eternity, yet no matter how much air he tries to give you, you always lack air. Fire and brimstone slowly but surely turn you into an ugly salt statue, like those of the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. Asmo uses his make-up on you to keep you beauty, but you become uglier than before.

MAMMON - GREED

Boiled alive in oil

“Mammoney, it hurts!”

Mammon couldn’t do anything to help you out so he just jumped into the cauldron with you.

“MC, I’m here, I’m with you…for eternity.” He cries, tears falling down to your burning face.

LUCIFER - PRIDE

Broken on a wheel

Lucifer is a torture connoisseur, you know that, but you never imagined you would become his torture victim.

*breaking sound of bones*

“Luci, please stop! I beg you.”

“I’m sorry, love. But I’m trying to be as gentle as I can.”

If you want, I’ll make another version of this where the Brothers laugh at MC, instead of suffering with them.

If you read this until the end, please consider reblog. <3

Obey Me Masterlist

Update: the other version is completed.

[illusioninfnty]

Peace and Quiet

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Summary: Joel Miller holds your life in his hands Word Count: 813 Warnings: toxic relationship, angst, mean!Joel

This is technically a follow up to Sex and Violence but can also be read as a stand-alone. I wrote this right after I finished a paper for class. Whelp.

Masterlist || Read on Ao3

Joel Miller holds your life in his hands.

He dug it out of the ground, brushed the dirt off of it, polished it and put it in pocket and forgot about it until it was needed.

When he holds it, he doesn’t cup it protectively. No, he grasps it tightly, squeezing it so harshly it curls out through his fingers, and keeps it suspended on an old, frayed thread.

It stays brandished at his side, he handles it with no care. You stare at it as you follow after him. You pray he doesn’t lose it, that he doesn't throw it away, or at the infected, or worse, to another man. Once, you hoped that he didn’t know it was in his hands, but you were young and naive then and would step out of place and he would dangle it in front of you until you knew never to cross Joel Miller.

In his hold, your life becomes muddled and mangled and warped and deformed. It gets thrown to the side, left in the rain, crushed beneath the cargo. It becomes his last priority.

You wished he could take care of it when he fucks you harshly. But Joel Miller doesn’t know what the word gentle means anymore and you think you’d probably be more scared if Joel wasn’t so rough.

You submit and you obey and you listen and he commands. He is a God in your eyes, and has already doomed you to an eternal hell. You watch as he leads, he watches as you suffer.

You used to want something you could say was yours, but Joel Miller stormed in and knocked everything off kilter and you longer knew what it was like to be and to live.

He is not yours. Your life is not yours. Joel Miller needs ownership, he needs control, and you give him what he needs. It will make him stay. It might make him take care of you. You don’t ask for anything more.

He will not give you back your life. But you would not take it, either. You didn’t want to steal.

Joel hated stealing. So you hated it too.

Joel Miller holds your life in his hands, and he could throw it away in a second if he wanted to.

Sometimes you wish he did. Sometimes the pain was too much, sometimes it made you forget who you used to be. The person from before, the person who was forced to take care of herself, who would have rather wilted and wallowed and withered away before she was stuck here.

But your reason to live now was him. It was the merciless shouts of powerful arms as they wrapped around your throat, it was the delicate whisper of calloused hands when they brushed across your bruised skin. 

He presses on the bruises. He controls your pain. He releases you. He creates some more.

He is loud one moment, and silent the next.

The peace and quiet that he gives you is unsettling. 

Peace means he isn’t with you. Quiet means he is uninterested. You need him to live, need his sadism, his brutality, his ruthlessness.

If your life is peaceful, you’re doing something wrong. If your life is quiet, he won’t stay with you anymore. Peace and quiet is failure.

The inevitable is upon you, and you fear what will happen when it arrives. There is no hope left in this world, but you pray to whoever is above silently and pray to him powerfully and pray to whoever will listen for your safety and your comfort and so you can—

But he lifts your chin, his fingers dig into your jaw—God has abandoned us—and you can only look up at him as your vision fills with Joel, Joel, Joel. There is no light. There is only Joel.

But the time will come soon. The time when he will leave you. He knows it, and so do you.

When Joel finds something to care about, you will be abandoned.

When Joel finds something to care about, you will cease to exist.

You savor the moments with him now. You press up against him when he grants it, you move cautiously, curiously, carefully. You thrust your fingers into his skin and you wish you could melt into him so he would have to handle your life with care. You savor the contact because Joel doesn’t hold you and he doesn’t allow for himself to be held.

He often smells like pine and oak, like the forests you navigate when you follow him to your doom and his asylum, but to you all he smells like is heaven.

Joel Miller holds your life in his hands. He decides your fate, and you would go to hell if it meant he could stay here next to him for just a little bit longer.

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 3/30

What am I feeling today?

Kinda frustrated and annoyed. There’s this guy and I want to lose feelings for him. I just don’t think anything could ever happen between us so for my sake and sanity I need to move on. But every time I think I’m fine, I see him again, and all the feelings come rushing back and it’s so frustrating! Anyways, I’m just feeling this way because I briefly saw him last night and then I dreamt about him and it brought back memories that I’m trying to put out of my mind because I just can’t take it anymore. I wish to be free of him.

Luke 14 NIV

(v. 3-5) “Jesus asked the Pharisees and experts in the law, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?” But they remained silent. So taking hold of the man, he healed him and sent him on his way. Then he asked them, “If one of you has a child or an ox that falls into a well on the Sabbath day, will you not immediately pull it out?””

There’s not much to add to this other than it was kind of Jesus to heal on the Sabbath and tried to show how it would be similar to saving someone or something you love. You wouldn’t just let them suffer for another day but you would immediately try and rescue them!

(v. 11) “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.””

Jesús used the parable of a wedding before he said this. That if you are a guest, you wouldn’t take the place of honor (like bridesmaids) otherwise you’d be escorted and embarrassed. And if you take the lowest place, the host will bring you up and take you to a better spot. All in all, it’s to support his point right here. We should not value ourselves so much higher than we are because we’ll be humbled. Rather if we already humble ourselves, we will eventually be exalted.

(v. 13-14) “But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.””

This applies to us now in who to love and care for. We should constantly be aware of the fact that there are people in need, people less fortunate than ourselves. It should be put on our hearts to care for them, to offer what we have, because we’re all human at the end of the day. Our lives are not more valuable than theirs.

(v. 26-27) ““If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”

This verse does not actually mean that we should hate our family or ourselves (we need to love them and us!). But instead, our love for Jesus should be far, far greater! Our love for Jesus should be so evident that all our other relationships appear as hate because of how great our love is for Jesus. Also, as disciples, we all need to deny ourselves and carry our cross daily!

(v. 28-33) ““Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to finish.’ “Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.”

This scripture goes over what it’s like to count the cost of being a disciple. Before you become a Christian, you have to see whether you can be. Are you willing to commit the rest of your life to Christ? Are you willing to keep his commands every single day? Will you preach the word and evangelize? fulfilling the great commission because that’s what all his disciples are called to do, not just the ministry? there’s a lot you need to consider and if you’re not willing to give it all up for Christ, you can’t be his disciple, he says so himself.

[honeycreamsweets]

I wanna go home

Beelzebub x Gender Neutral MC

PLEASE BE CAREFUL IF YOU READ. IF YOU FEEL UNEASY ABOUT READING ABOUT ABUSE, PLEASE DONT! i don’t wanna make anyone feel triggered or upset. Nothing explicit.

Comfort but some angst

Again, nothing explicit but MC is crying over dealing with their abusive household in the human realm. and Beel has to listen to mc cry. He comforts them as best as he can. Mentions of MC being uncomfortable about Lucifer choice of punishment towards his brothers. But he’s not seen as a bad guy. Could be platonic or romantic relationship between Beel and MC.

Word count- 500+ (lost count)

Notes- I just wanted to vent, fanfic and anime bfs are the best things I can use to cope. :’) anyway. Sorry about mistakes, I wrote this quickly in the middle of the night

It broke every inch of his heart to hear your sobs over the phone. Your visit back home never went well. When you first got sent to devildom, you were excited after everything got explained. You finally got to get away from your abusive household. It had been a long time since you had been home. You thought maybe time would change things. But it didn’t.

Now here you were, crying on the phone with Beel. You could barely manage a coherent sentence through your cries. You were trying to keep quiet but you desperately wanted to scream.

Beel understood nothing of what you said. It filled him with anxiety to know you were in a completely different realm and he couldn’t protect you. The idea of you suffering from this your whole life..? Humans have such short life spans and he couldn’t understand why someone want to make a person’s life awful. He couldn’t let you live like that. He wanted you to be happy..! He wanted you by his side and always feeling safe..! You didn’t deserve to be treated so poorly. Especially not you. He understood now why you had such a hard time watching Lucifer’s punishments towards the other brothers. It was scary for you. Clearly the circumstances in the house of lamentation were different. But you were still scared then.

And? You were scared now. You babbled through broken cries and hiccups that you wanted to go back. All he could do was listen and try not to sound sad. He wanted to bring you home and never let go. He’d keep you away from that horrible place for as long as he would live. He begged you to let him handle your abuser but you didn’t let him. It was complicated due to your family issues but he respected your answer…

In times like these, he wished that he ignored your answer to save you from this. He wanted to go to Barbatos or ask you to summon him. But you couldn’t. It would only make things worse for you. He couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t sit around while you feared for your safety. He couldn’t let you feel like this anymore. He furrowed his brows and spoke. “You’ll be back home tomorrow, right…? I won’t let you stay there anymore, I can’t let you. Please MC.. let me protect you and take you away from that place..”

He waited for you to say anything. But he heard nothing. You were fighting the urge to not cry even harder at his words. In the midst of your breakdown, you said yes. He sighed in relief but he wouldn’t feel any better until you were back.

“Don’t worry Mc, I promise to keep you safe. You have a home here where you’ll never ever have to feel like this. I’ll always protect you. I’ll always save you when you need it.”

The conversation on your end stopped as you cried. You felt that you were going to flood your room with tears. But this time it was a bittersweet cry. It was going to be a lot to deal with but. You felt cared about. By someone who you held dear to you. As you sniffled and tried to calm your breathing with him. You thought to yourself. You couldn’t wait to get home. To your real home.