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heartbreakgrill · 8 months

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stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt 10, "i scream, for whatever it's worth, 'i love you.' ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

a/n: pls ignore the fact that i’ve been writing miss morel instead of miss blake 😭 also enjoy my sappy writing. thank you all for every ounce of love and support on this series. i’ve had so much fun writing for you and interacting with everyone. i may have smth else in the works, but no promises. for now, enjoy x

tagging: @scarletrosesposts

stiles reluctantly shifted y/n's body into isaac's arms, took the opportunity to swipe the tears out from beneath his eyes. then, he focused back to y/n. he took the sleeve of his sweatshirt, cleaned the blood off of her face, as he came up with a plan, "okay. i-i can get past the cops. i'll distract them down front, while you guys slip out the back. my jeep is parked in the emergency lot. but, i don't know how you'll cross the entire parking lot with them all out there."

danny watched stiles’ gentle hands. he was terrified, but he tried not to show it. he spoke, strong and clear, "i can go out first, bring it around to the ambulance bay. isaac and allison can wait there.”

the aforementioned hunter before adding on her own idea, "that's good. then we can swing around and grab you, stiles."

"okay, okay," stiles ran his hands through his hair, anxiously. a million thoughts raced through his mind, "and what do we do if-if the alpha pack comes for us? they still think we're protecting jennifer. and we-we're useless again-"

"stiles," allison touched his wrist, gently, drawing his eyes back to her own. she’d never admit it, but she was worried, too. without scott, they were not only outnumbered, but weak. like danny, she put forth a strong front, "she's gonna be okay. we're gonna be okay. i doubt they stuck around here, considering the police. i think we’ll make it through.”

"okay," stiles breathed out, "let's go." his arms dropped to his sides. he watched y/n’s head wobble as isaac turned away.

he, allison, and danny were going to take the stairs, stiles the elevator. so, this is where they would split up. though, before isaac could turn all the way, to follow allison and danny towards the doorway, stiles called out, “wait, isaac-!”

he looked back towards stiles, brows raised, "yeah?" he held y/n so carefully, like she was a pillow. stiles felt useless, again. useless because he wasn’t that strong. useless because, without scott, like miss blake had said- he had nothing.

stiles pushed down the feeling and stepped forward, "i just want to say goodbye. to her. i know she can’t hear me, but-“

“it’s okay,” isaac nodded once, reassuring the boy.

stiles slowly drug his eyes down to y/n's sunken face. she was beginning to look more and more sick, more corpse-like, as every moment passed. every so often, since isaac took her from stiles’ arm, y/n’s entire body would wrack from the chills that were causing sweat to sit on her brow. then, she'd cough violently, chest constricting with the effort, and blood would gush out of her lips. each time, isaac would spindle the pain out of her legs, around her back, his own face grimacing in response. he didn’t even hesitate to help her. stiles was grateful for this.

when he drew her pain out from her blood, isaac could feel the life slowly dissipating from her body. he had told stiles, just before he came up with the plan, that she, in fact, dying. but, she had a while to go. it was happening, slowly but surely. inching through her body at a snail’s pace. cruelly.

none of that information reassured stiles. it only made it worse, knowing that she was in so much, drug-out pain.

he lay a shaking hand to her cheek, thumb brushing across her skin. it was moist with that feverish-sweat. her lips were pale white, the color only dulled more by the black line circling the center of them. finally, a redness was visible beneath her eyelids, in her veins. she really was dying. she looked it.

stiles dragged his lips between his teeth, stilling them because they were wobbling. then, his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned forth, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “i love you…”

–

“i love you, y/n…”

y/n woke with a jolting start, heart beat thumping in her neck like a choking reminder. her breath came out, raggedly. she managed to grab the fading words that echoed in her ears, whispered down her spine, like someone had just prickled their lips to her lobe, before they could leave her. y/n quickly looked to her left, then the right, before shifting onto her knees to examine the space behind her back.

there was nobody there.

in fact, there was nothing there.

the room- if you could call it a room- was bright white, lit by loud bulbs y/n could not find. the space stretched out before her, never-ending, miles and miles wide and long. she squinted her eyes, searching for its end. she expected the horizon to curve, eventually, for her view to diminish because of the curvature of the earth.

but it didn’t.

no, the room just kept on unfolding. the nothingness expanded.

there was a low buzzing sound, like flies, or florescent lighting, but the source of it was nowhere to be seen. she figured it must be from the bulbs, but the more she looked above her to try to find them, the more her head hurt. it was a blinding view.

she took a shuddering breath, head lolling forward. she was terrified of this subliminal space. terrified of what could be waiting on either end, what would find her. what she would find.

terrified of the fact that, as far as she knew, right now, she was utterly alone.

y/n went to stand, carefully bracing her shaking palms onto the matte white floor. she expected to groan in pain as she stood, but her legs lifted with ease. y/n ran her eyes over her body as she was shocked by the strengthened version of herself that she had recovered to. it was almost like she wasn’t really herself- like she was a dream-like avatar of her real self. maybe she’d blacked out so hard that, now, she was dreaming.

though, it did not feel like a dream.

she was in the same clothing as her real self- hospital gown, jeans, grippy socks, and stiles’ hoodie. though, her clothes were soaking wet, like she had dipped in the pool, again. there was no water on the floor, nor any source of it as far as she could see. then, y/n’s eyes reached her hands, and she noticed the black liquid coating her skin. it looked like she had been coughing into her hand. she gasped at the sight.

y/n brought a wobbling hand to her lips, feeling fresh blood evident in her mouth. she began coughing, erratically. she crouched over, hand braced on her knees, as the coughs wracked her chest. her hands became wet with the black blood, and some of it splattered across the white floor.

“wha-“ her coughing ceased, and a shocked look dilated y/n’s pupils. “what’s happening? what-“

she turned every which way, searching for an exit sign, searching for a doorway, a window, another person. she was becoming panicked. the pain was starting to soak back into her body.

“hello?” she called out, voice echoing off of walls that didn’t even exist. she spun in circles, calling out to the void, “hello? is anybody there? please-“ she coughed up more blood, “i need help! help me, please!”

she shuddered as a wind flew past her body. “hello?! please, help me! stiles! stiles?! please!”

just then, as she spoke his name, that voice came again, whipping as the wind carried it down her spine. “i love you, baby. i’ll see you soon, okay? i love you.”

y/n continued spinning in circles as she tried to find that voice. it went away, again, and the low buzzing of the back room was all she had left. it was worse, the loneliness, because she was able to recognize that voice now- it was him. she was sure of it. y/n cried out, “stiles!”

he was gone. there, at her fingertips, at the precipice of her consciousness, but gone, again. taken. swept away with the ever-fading wind.

“stiles, where are you?” she sobbed, “please!”

the energy was sinking from her body, and she struggled to keep herself on her feet. y/n slowly crumpled to her knees, more blood continuing to spew from her lips, and tears spilling from her eyes.

everything was fading.

“please, stiles!”

–

“what’s wrong with her?” stiles demanded, cracking his knuckles against either palm as he paced the floor of the animal clinic.

his eyes shot back and forth from y/n to deaton. his chest felt so tight, and he thought, at any moment, he might start having a panic attack. things were seemingly becoming worse, by the minute. deaton had been examining the girl for nearly half an hour. he kept pulling herbs out of cabinets, shutting them away, listening to her heartbeat.

like he was now- deaton pulled his stethoscope from his ears and hung it around his neck. he glanced to isaac, allison, danny, warily, before looking to stiles. he let out a hopeless, so stiles snapped his head in deaton’s direction.

“what? what’s wrong wi-with her? is- is she gonna be okay?” stiles voice cracked. deaton’s frown seemed to deepen. stiles shook his head, quickly, “no, cmon- no. please- wha…please tell me what’s wrong with her. please tell me you can fix it. please.”

stiles was barely able to speak through that pleading word, his chin falling to his chest as a sob wracked his body. allison clenched her jaw and had to look away. she took a shuddering breath, pressed a hand to her cheek. it was so hard to watch.

deaton braced his palms on the steel table, hands on either side of y/n’s head as he looked down at her. “she’s…jennifer placed some sort of poisonous spell on her. that’s the best way i can understand it. it’s like her body is rejecting itself. and, so, she’s…she’s dying, stiles-“

“i know that!” stiles yelled, “we all fucking know that! so, just do something to save her!”

he swept a hand across the counter adjacent to his left hip, knocking all of the tools to the ground. a yell, deep and vicious, erupted from stiles’ throat, as the supplies clattered to the floor. the scream resounded throughout the room. allison and danny flinched. she kept her gaze pointed from the boy, too pained to look his way. danny shut his eyes, pressed his lips together. he was still trying to be strong, though hearing this news was starting to affect his demeanor. he wanted to scream, just like stiles. but, he held it all in.

meanwhile, isaac was watching stiles carefully in case he needed to step in. he crossed his arms over his chest. he, too, felt terrible for the boy, but he wore his heart in his ribcage, tucked away, private.

stiles put his back to them, head in his hands, shoulders heaving up and down while he sobbed. allison wanted to step forward, to comfort the boy. but, then, deaton was speaking again.

deaton, also a stoic mourner, cleared his throat, then said, “stiles.”

“what?” he whispered, tone laced with venom. he slowly turned around to face the vet. his eyes were now rimmed with a red, bloodshot look. stiles no longer tried to hide the tears racing down his face. it only made danny feel worse.

deaton spoke slowly, gently, a hand set out towards stiles as a treaty-like offer, “i-i don’t want to give you any false hope. but, i think there may be something we can try to do.”

“what is it?” stiles stepped forward, hands falling onto the table. he kept in mind deaton’s words and tried not to let the faith bubble in his chest. but he couldn’t really control his emotions right now. he was all over the place. one of his fists lifted, moving through the air as if he were rushing deaton’s idea. “what is it? what can we do?”

deaton tilted his head in slight disappointment because he knew stiles was clinging onto an idea that could end in flames, “you must understand, stiles…i don’t have the anecdote for this poison. everything i have will only hasten her death, which is why jennifer did this. she knew we wouldn’t be able to stop it. she knew y/n’s state would only slow us down, weaken our numbers.”

“i know,” stiles’ shoulders barely lifted in acknowledgement. this is exactly what he wanted to avoid, exactly why he had never told her about all of this. “i…figured. y/n was clear bait. an easy target. it’s- what can we do?”

“scott can give her the bite,” deaton hurried the words out within a breath. he was scared of their impact. “i’m not sure if she’s strong enough to turn, but…but it might just counteract her death. the bite and the poison could cancel each other out. but…there are chances it won’t work, stiles. if i’m wrong, she may still die. or…she may actually turn.”

“or she could turn into something worse,” allison whispered. stiles found her eyes, much to allison’s dismay, and she nearly shuddered from the look in his. his pupils were dark, threatening. allison looked away quickly.

danny had been caught up on everything by allison and isaac on their way down to the ambulance bay. he was able to finish a lot of their sentences because he had been suspecting something like what they were telling him. after all, jackson was his best friend. he knew something was off. and he’d done his own research.

the validation that he had been right about monsters hiding in the dark didn’t feel good, though.

danny wondered what she could turn in to. contrary to jackson, she was a good person. were there any monsters that were good in their disposition? any without claws and fangs and a deadly bite? he didn’t really want to find out.

stiles punched the table, ever so lightly, drawing danny from his own thoughts. “i want it done,” stiles demanded.

deaton braced a hand between them again, “stiles-“

“why is this even a question? i mean- we always go out of our way to save people we don’t even know!” he shouted as he took a step towards deaton. “and, now, suddenly it’s an issue. please, just…we have to save her!” his voice cracked again.

the doctor, though threatened by stiles angry demeanor, still didn’t falter. he simply lifted his chin in response, “okay. then, it’s really just up to scott, now. if he is willing to do it, then it can be done. i must ask, though, would she be okay with this?” he gestured to y/n.

danny took the moment to interject, for the first time in a long time, “sorry to interrupt, but, i-uh, she’d probably say yes. if the chances are she could die either way, she’d want us to at least try.”

stiles nodded to danny, gratefully. the latter boy pushed himself back into the wall, sinking into himself.

“okay. then, we must wait for scott.”

everyone tucked in, preparing to wait as deaton said. isaac slid up onto the counter, legs dangling over the side. allison sat criss-cross on the floor as she worked on ensuring her bow was in one piece. stiles was stoic at y/n’s side, head tilted down to gaze at her. danny watched him for a moment, watched how he entwined his fingers with hers, pushed the hair back from her forehead, and cleaned some of the blood off of her chin.

danny pushed off of the wall and came to stand across from stiles. he followed the boy’s eyes down at y/n, a deep frown creasing his cheeks. he set a hand on her wrist and put the other against her palm. danny took a shuddering breath, pushing aside the anxiety and mourning crawling up his chest. he wanted to comfort stiles. so he tried to.

“i don’t know how she manages to look so pretty, even when dying,” danny shortly chuckled, hoping the joke wouldn’t be too harsh for stiles.

stiles jumped, just slightly, at the sound of danny’s voice. it took a second, but the joke finally clicked in his head. stiles appreciated the humor. “hm? oh, yeah…i- she’s so fucking beautiful. i don’t get it. and then she’ll say that she’s not, and i’m just, like…i wanna hit her, ya know?”

stiles looked up to danny. the older boy searched stiles’ eyes for a moment, and he didn’t have to force the smile that came onto his face.

“you love her so much,” danny simply said, a breathy laugh shortly off his tongue.

stiles didn’t know what to say. his head nodded in a hesitated manner, and he peeled his eyes off of danny.

y/n let out a heavy breath, her chest deflating from the effort. stiles brushed more hair behind her ear.

“i do…i…” his tongue darted out as he licked his lips, “i love her.”

danny reached out and wrapped a hand around stiles’ shoulder. he squeezed. stiles shot him a half-hearted smile.

they didn’t need to say anything else. after all, that was everything.

twenty more minutes passed. stiles tried not to stare at the clock, but he found his eyes flirting towards the teasing hands, moving ever so slowly.

isaac talked quietly to allison, who cleaned her bow about three times. her hands were shaking. danny stepped out, at one point, to call y/n’s parents, who were still struggling to find a flight home to see her.

he lied and told them she would be just fine.

finally, scott arrived, relieving some of the tension in the room. he came rushing in, breathless, rambling on about what he had learned. there was drying blood on his hands, on his shirt, but no one even questioned it. at this point, it was normal.

everyone listened intently,silently hoping that whatever information he had received would help them save y/n.

but, instead, it was about the other issue stiles was trying not to remember, “we have to find the nemeton! if we find that, we’ll find out parents! she has them trapped in the cellar beneath it. here-“

scott didn’t notice y/n, still sprawled out, lifeless, on the table in the center of the room. he smelled something weird, but his mind was racing with the excitement that they’d be able to save their guardians.

stiles glanced back down at y/n, hoping scott would cut himself off. he couldn’t find the strength to do so. allison and isaac even exchanged a wary glance as scott produced a map out of his jacket pocket. from what everyone else could see, it pictured highlighted telluric currents. as it flattened between his hands, scott stepped forward in orderto set it on the table. that’s when he noticed y/n.

scott slowly lowered the map and flicked his eyes to stiles. “wha- what’s happening?” scott asked. he glanced around to everyone else, “what’s wrong with her?”

“she’s dying,” stiles murmured.

“i know, but, i thou-“ scott hurriedly shifted his words to deaton, who shook his head, sadly. “i thought you’d bring her here, and she’d be okay. deaton- i thought you would be able to save her.”

“scott,” deaton gently interrupted, “there’s nothing i can do. whatever jennifer did to her, it’s unbreakable. none of my herbs would work. they’d just- speed it up. the only thing we can try is-“

“i’ll give her the bite,” scott glanced between stiles and deaton, a determined look in his eye.

stiles blinked rapidly as relief flooded him, “scott, you don’t have to do-“

“i have to,” scott raised a hand, “i want to. besides, this isn’t about me. it’s never been about me. it’s always been about protecting and saving innocent people, like y/n. if the bite would save her, then i have to do it. i can’t let her die.”

deaton leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. he was proud of scott for adopting such a morally right approach to the thing that could have changed him for the worse. but, deaton still had worries, concerns, “you know what this will entail, don’t you? you know the consequences of giving the bite?”

scott didn’t hesitate to nod, “i’ll do it.”

stiles’ spine straightened with an eager energy that pulsed through his blood. he nervously watched as scott turned his gaze down to y/n. scott’s brows furrowed slightly as he took in her deadly appearance. he set his hands, gently, on her arm. immediately, her pain shot up and through his veins. scott winced, and flinched his hands away. stiles squeezed her hand in response. that was never a good sign.

“she’s in a lot of pain,” scott breathed out.

stiles really wanted to say something rude, something sarcastic, something to press scott to go a little faster. but, he bit his tongue. it wasn’t the time, even if the humor would lighten his anxiety.

but, scott’s movements were painstakingly slow. he set his hands back on her wrist, paused as he took some more of her pain. it didn’t seem to want to let up. then, he lifted her arm in the air, inner wrist tilted towards his mouth. scott dipped his head back, a small groan coming from the back of his throat as his fangs protruded from his mouth. his eyes flashed yellow.

just as scott leveled his chin, opened his mouth to sink his fangs into y/n’s arm, lydia burst into the room. she always had impeccable timing with these things. “stop! wait, stop!”

everyone flinched, heads twisting around to look at the girl. she was breathing heavily, hair and dress soaked from the rain. she looked like she had been crying, voice hoarse from a scream that had been out of earshot. she’d had a premonition. lydia walked further into the light, “i know how to get her back.”

–

y/n lay there for what felt like forever. she stared up at the sky, the ceiling, whatever it was. it loomed overtop of her, a menacingly blank space. it seemed brighter up there, like there were lights somewhere above. if there were lights, that meant that had to be some sort of something in there with her. she wanted to get up and start running, try to find that something in this vast, dismal space, but she didn’t have the energy. she was dying- she knew it.

so she just lay there.

she could feel the life being drug out of her as each and every moment passed. yet, the only thing she could think of was him- stiles.

as her mind wandered, bringing comfort through the daydreams that played in her head, she thought about only him. she missed stiles so much. she knew it couldn’t have been that long, but she still missed him. she missed him before all of this- before she knew about the supernatural.

besides, no dying person wanted to go out alone. he was the one she’d pick to be next to as her final breaths were drawn out of her chest.

she wanted to go back to a week ago, in his bed. before she looked at his phone and everything was ruined. she yearned to feel his fingers ghosting her forearm, tracing the veins there like a pattern, slow and loving. the more she thought about his touch, about his chest beneath her cheek, his arms around her shoulders, she almost swore she could feel his calloused palm wrap around her wrist. it tickled, almost.

y/n shot open her eyes, brought her hand to her eyes, but realized there was no one there. she dropped her hand back down to her stomach. she tilted her chin to take a deep breath of his hoodie, which was acting as a makeshift pillow beneath her head. it didn’t help much. her neck ached slightly. but the smell- the smell of his room, his hair, his deodorant. it helped just a bit.

it brought out more vivid memories behind her eyelids. laying in his jeep, her music low on the radio, fog on the windows, rain beating down like a protective coating around the vehicle. just the two of them, always just the two of them, and an undeniable, desirable secret dangling between their chests.

y/n turned onto her side, curled her legs up to her stomach. she wanted to go back to sleep, so that time would maybe pass- if there even was time in this place. she noticed that she hadn’t coughed in a while. but whenever it would happen, the fit was disastrous. the perfectly white floor surrounding her was stained with clumpy, black splatters. her entire neck was coated in the liquid. and the skin of her fingers was unrecognizable. she squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes that she could go to sleep, avoid another coughing fit, dream about him…

dream about his lips pressed against her forehead. she would pretend like it hadn’t happened, again, if that was the cost. she would take that over this- yearning for him quietly, secretly. the feeling that she would die if he never looked at her, the feeling that she would die because she couldn’t have him the way she wanted. she would take unrequited nothingness of the reality of actual death.

y/n felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. she tilted her chin towards her chest, withering in on her curled up self. whatever this place was- the after life, a punishment, limbo- she just wanted it to end already. at this point, if she was dying, then she wanted to just die already!

y/n’s shoulder wracked with another sob. the wind whipped past her curled body, carrying on it a voice. she ignored it, knowing it wasn’t really there.

but, then, it rang out, again, this time, independent of the wind.

and, this time, it wasn’t so distance.

“y/n?!”

she slowly lifted her head, eyes scarcely searching the white space for where the voice might be coming from. then, as it continued yelling for her, she lifted her upper body from the ground, and twisted her spine to look behind her.

yet, there was no one there.

a moment passed and the yelling stopped. because of that seconds pause, y/n went to lay back down.

but, then, she heard her name again. this time, it was just an inch closer. this time, it sounded clearer, like somebody she knew, “y/n, y/n!”

she listened for a moment, and heard footsteps echoing off the ground, padding quickly across the space.

then, two other sets of footsteps, two other voices. calling her name. they weren’t just voices in her head, distant memories in her mind- they were here. in this place. with her. at her fingertips.

y/n stood, carefully, body aching and yelling at her to stay down. gravity pushed against her. but, she got up. she turned in a short circle, searching for those voices.

and, finally, she found them. she found him.

hundreds of feet away from her, seemingly stuck behind some invisible wall separating the space, they stood, calling out her name. he pounded a fist against the invisible barrier, veins in his neck protruding as he screamed her name again. scott and allison were at his shoulders, her name falling from their lips, too.

“stiles?” y/n cried out, voice cracking, weak, quiet. she took a deep breath, willed herself not to cough, “stiles!”

he finally could tell that she had seen them, and he started yelling louder. somehow, someway, he took a step forward, the wall no longer there. stiles seemed to lose his footing as it glitched in and out of existence, and he looked to his feet in confusion. then, when he realized she was just an inch closer, he took another step, then another, and, then, he was running.

y/n realized that she had to run, too. because, even though he was running as fast as possible, he still seemed worlds away. she had to get to them. she had to close the distance. she had to go. she grabbed stiles’ hoodie, braced her lungs with a deep breath, and took off. he was moving closer, inch by painful inch, until-

y/n ran into his chest, ricocheting off and nearly falling back onto her ass. stiles quickly reacted and grabbed his shoulders, steadying her. he crouched to meet her eye, searching her face as if he couldn’t believe it really was her.

as their eyes met, the world shifted, just one last time, finally clicking back onto it’s axis.

y/n’s shaking hands came slowly up to his cheeks as a sob escaped her. “stiles?” she whispered.

he nodded, just once, before squeezing her into his chest. “it’s me- i’m here. i’m here, baby.”

she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding tightly, so he could never leave her again.

he would never leave her again.

–

like a line of dominos, everything began falling into place, quickly, righteously.

y/n clung to stiles’ side as they found the nemeton, tucked away in some corner of the woods, which appeared out of nowhere. it took them through his memory, but part of her own recollections, too. some distant evocation of a day spent with danny, practicing his time for cross country. she could hear his voice, but she couldn’t see him. eventually, she and stiles stumbled onto the large tree root, evident as the fall air whipping past them.

everything felt distant, still, unreal. though she could feel stiles there, beside her, she knew that this wasn’t reality. she couldn’t wait until this was all over, when they’d wake up in the animal clinic. when she could really touch him, his actual skin, there, right there for her to take and never let go.

after they found the nemeton, everything surrounding them glitched out to a pitch black dream. they fell into something similar to sleeping. y/n heard her name, whispered through the dark, like a question. she slowly came to, fingers twitching upon her stomach, eyelids fluttering open. the bright lights of the animal clinic shone down on her, and it took more than a moment for her eyes to adjust.

when they did, she saw dr. deaton, standing over her, holding a gentle hand to her cheek. he helped her sit up, slowly but surely, with his touch on her upper back. she swung her legs over the side of the table, groaning at the residing pain still lingering. it was fading, fast, but it still clung to her. as the feeling was coming back into her body, so was her memory, her awareness. she darted her eyes around the animal clinic, searching for stiles, when deaton said:

“here,” the vet held out a purple-ish liquid, contained in a shot glass. “drink this.”

y/n took it, hesitantly, from him, and drank it in small, awful sips. “what was that?” she made a crude face at the foul taste.

“herbs. to help you regain your remaining strength back,” he encouraged the idea with a small nod.

y/n thanked him, before accepting another glass. this time, luckily, it was just water. she glanced around the empty room, again, “where is everyone? where- where’s stiles?” she yearned for him.

“stopping jennifer. stiles and lydia went out to find the nemeton. to find his dad. everything will be over shortly,” deaton patted her shoulder.

“what am i supposed to do, in the meantime? i mean…i don’t know where i fit?” she was new to this dynamic. she felt she should be out there helping. she was, after all, considered a part of the pack now. didn’t that come with responsibilities? though, she had just almost died. surely there was time allocated to humans for rest and relaxation in this type of world?

“well,” deaton he crossed his arms over his chest, “what do you want to do?”

“go home,” y/n admitted with a short laugh.

“i’ll drive you.”

y/n twisted around at the sound of that familiar voice. danny stepped out of the shadowed corner of the room. he had been giving her and deaton space as she was brought back to life. but, he couldn’t wait any longer. his best friend almost died. and now, he could finally take her home, to safety, to quiet, to peace.

deaton nodded, once, before stepping out of the room. his role in this chapter was completed.

meanwhile, y/n jumped off of the table, hurriedly tossing her arms around danny. he squeezed her in the tightest hug they had ever exchanged. their reunion was sweet, sentimental, full of tears from either friend.

and, then, danny drove her home, as promised.

he helped her out of her blood-stained clothing, and into the hot shower. he waited, less than patiently, on her bed while she washed away all of the black staining her skin. when she was finally changed into pajamas, tucked up underneath her bed covers, her eyes were heavy again.

she was exhausted.

danny was going to stay the night, until her parents got home, the next day. so, he hugged her one last, lingering time before retreating to the guest room, hesitantly.

y/n wanted to fall asleep, and wake up in tomorrow, when, hopefully, things will have washed away, sorted themselves out. but, she also knew that, eventually, this would happen again. based on the stories she’d heard, they always did. so, as her mind raced with the worries of that version of tomorrow, she felt her body wake up a bit more.

she just wanted stiles.

this day could not end any better than if stiles would just come back to her.

she climbed out of bed, paced down to the kitchen, and nursed a glass of water as her phone rang. y/n waited, impatiently, as the line beeped.

“hey,” stiles’ voice finally shone through.

y/n wanted to scream with joy, but she simply said, “hi.”

stiles breathed out a heavy sigh, “are you okay?”

“in one piece, somehow,” she managed a small chuckle. “what about you? is your dad alright?”

“he’s sleeping now.”

she was grateful to hear that. “and you, stiles?” he had just been through the hardest few days of his life.

stiles, elbow against the windowsill of his jeep, hand lazily rested on the steering wheel, blinked away exhausted tears. “fine…i guess. as fine as i can be.”

“stiles,” y/n nearly interrupted with a grin on her lips, “please, come over.”

he peered out his window, where her house sat, peacefully, on it’s precipice. the moon hung low behind it, enticing him to step inside. but, after all this, he knew what he must do. for her, her safety, her livelihood.

“i can’t,” his voice almost cracked.

y/n’s face fell, heart sinking into her stomach, “what? why? why not? is there- i thought everything was worked out. i thought that you guys solved everything?”

“we did,” he tapped his fingers against the wheel anxiously, “we did…this time. but- there’ll be other problems. there’ll be other druids trying to take your head off and alpha packs trying to kill all of us. it’ll never stop, y/n. i can’t, with sound mind and heart, drag you into this, knowing what i know. seeing what i’ve seen. i can’t- i have to just…end this.”

in the silence that followed stiles’ confession, y/n picked at the kitchen countertop. she didn’t cry- she didn’t even feel the need to. because she knew this wasn’t the end. she knew it would never end. it was- whatever they had- unbreakable. it was heaven. it was everything.

and she loved him. she’d never stop loving him.

“are you here?” she finally spoke.

the painful silence had only spurred more tears on stiles’. he pressed a hand to his lips, as if rubbing them would force the cries away. but, when she asked him that, his body took a pause. “wh-what?”

“you’re outside, aren’t you?” y/n pushed up off of her seat. she began marching to the front door, stopping only to put on shoes, unwilling to hear his answer. she knew he was.

sure enough, his jeep sat on her road, idling. she shook her head, that grin still sat upon her face. as she began the long walk down her driveway, she spoke, “i realize now how often you’d sit out here, watching my house, making sure i was safe. my brain always said it wasn’t you, but that freshman down the street, who drives that black jeep. it’s too dark out to see that robin egg blue on roscoe. but, no, it’s been you along. you’ve always been here, protecting me.”

“y/n, please, i-“

she hung on him. she was at the jeep door, now. stiles met her eyes, glanced away as he tried to stay strong. he was ending this. he had to. he didn’t want her pretty eyes and soft face to break him down and give in.

but, she knocked on his window.

stiles huffed, turning off the jeep, and stepping out. “y/n, please, you need to-“

“i have spent the last three months pushing you away. i have spent three months convincing myself that you weren’t everything to me. convincing myself that we were only friends, that even though you make me laugh like nobody has ever made me laugh, you didn’t mean the world to me. i have spent so, so long ignoring all the signs, ignoring all of these feelings that i have for you- and yesterday? i almost died. i realized just how precious what we have is. and, if there’s going to be other alpha packs, other crazy english teachers with some weird grudge against all my creative writing assignments, then i’m not going to waste the time that we have letting you go, again. not again, stiles. i have you- i’ve had you, i’ve had you right between my fingers this entire time. and i’ve just been letting you run like water. but, i’m not doing that again. i’m not letting that happen.”

stiles shook his head, removed her gaze from his. he couldn’t bear it. he couldn’t bear this. he just wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t. get back in your jeep and drive away, stiles.

“okay- i just-you know that being with me means having a target on your back. and, you may be okay with that, but i am not. y/n, we can move on from this, okay? i can- i can let you go if it means you will be safe. and you’ll easily get over me. i know you think- i know you have these feelings, but, i also know you never wanted to get attached in the first place. i know you probably really even aren’t. i promise-“ he bullshitted himself.

“i love you, stiles. and i know that’s the worst thing you wanted to hear right now because it changes everything,” she stepped closer, demanding his eye contact. stiles pressed his back into the jeep, trying to shrink away. “and, i know that you love me. you didn’t have to tell me. i’ve felt it- i’ve felt it from you on more than one occasion. and it’s, it’s not the kind of love that you just let go, or get over. it’s- yeah, it’s dangerous and it’s terrifying to hear and it has the worst timing and it changes everything in the world. but, i love you, stiles.”

he lifted his chin, slammed his fist into his palm, weighing over everything in his mind. he didn’t need to- he knew what he felt, but then he knew what was right. and, not even deep down, he knew what to do. what he wanted to do. but, it was the choosing to do so that terrified him. that made him anxious, that made him feel like that pathetic, weak human everyone thought he was. he wouldn’t be able to protect her like he wanted. he wouldn’t be able to stop an attack on her, like yesterday had proven. he wouldn’t be able to ensure she’d get to go to college, that she’d even make it to graduation. if they did this, if he let her do this with him, she’d be in immense danger every second of the day.

but, he knew if he didn’t do this- he wouldn’t be able to breathe. he’d suffocate without her. she made him feel stronger, she made him feel better. she made him feel human in the best way, in the way that was never weak, nor pathetic- in the way that only humans can feel and love.

so, he made that hard choice, and he chose that hard thing.

and he kissed her.

#derek x stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles x lydia #stiles x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf x reader

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welcome-to-neighborhood-park · 29 days

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Wally Darling and Home

Playfellow Engineering prides itself on the accuracy of Neighborhood Park's cast! Meaning few changes were made to the characters' original designs. Wally's only noticeable differences are his height and small apple details. Home is life size replica of the original source.

Characters Information Below

Ah Wally Darling, the main character and very face of Welcome Home! He's kind and easy-going, and the friendliest neighbor around. He's always excited to show visitors around the Neighborhood and would love to join you in seeing all his friends!

Wally doesn’t have his own attraction other than his Apple Picking Ride, rather he free roams the park itself and interacts with everyone. The Neighborhood is his attraction! He’s also known to leave drawings scattered about the park. We don’t know how he reaches the roof of Eddie’s tour truck, but if you look up you might see the little vandal’s work! Wally always carries extra crayons and will happily give you a pack if you ask nicely.

Wally’s The Most Apple Picking Ride is exactly what you think it is! Visitors get to take a ride through a small apple orchard on decorated Apple Picking Baskets. During the ride, the baskets slow down to a snail’s pace to allow taller riders to reach out and pick apples on nearby branches, without leaving their seats of course! [Picked apples are not edible. Picked apples are exchanged for 1 edible apple at the end of the ride.]

Height: 48 inches with hair. Top of head is 42 inches. Eye Color: Black Age: mid 20s Additional Details: apple shaped buttons on cardigan, pants pockets, embroidered apple on one end of necktie

Sentient. Aware.

Home is in the center of the neighborhood and certainly the liveliest house around! Home has agreed to hold the showcase of all things Welcome Home. Home is not just Wally’s house, but also a museum showcasing the original show and park's history. He guides visitors through the tour with the help of a translator as he opens doors and waves his curtains!

Original records, scripts, merchandise, and more carry all the memories from the show and is truly the Heart of the neighborhood! All the props on display were lovingly donated to the museum by the owner, such as Eddie donating his original mailbag, he always keeps a spare after all! [There are no puppets in the museum. Strange.]

Height: 13 feet Eye Color: Black

Sentient. Aware.

#Wally and Home are open for asks!#i believe the animatronics exos are all fabric and padding #minus home obviously #ill ask one the designers next time i see them #welcome home #welcome home au #Neighborhood Park AU #wally darling #wh home #cast member information

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readyplayerziggy · 1 month

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Based off a DM from @pudgy-planets that I thought deserved it's own post.

Trillian, making the often used term mountainous more fitting for herself with each bite and swallow she took, more food than most people consumed in their whole lives passing through her lips like water. Her gut growled and churned as it inched forward minute by minute, the sloppy sounds of the trainers eating unable to contain the moaning emanating from the center-most roll of her stomach, a pair of very large protuberances rounding out that particular area of her gut and pushing out every so often as the woman within set herself upon the feast Trillian was providing with as much gusto as the pale woman herself.

Samus sitting back with a groan, rubbing her stomach down in stilted motions as she struggled to breathe. Her stomach had been packed full to near bursting with the whole of the restaurants menu and at least a week's worth of their supply of ingredients before she'd gulped down the mouthy little blonde cursing up a storm at Trillian's gut fat after she'd eaten that Minako woman. And the little hellion had only redoubled her spitting and thrashing since she went down, no matter how much Samus had eaten to try and drown her in food. If she of slightly sounder mind, she'd probably be able to come to the conclusion that putting more food in her stomach was merely giving the tiny brat more fuel with which to kick and flail at the walls of her current abode. But Samus was not and so she, with a groan and a belch, took a hand off her taut and squirmy stomach to reach for yet another burger.

Emerald, unused to the kind of gorging that either of her psycho coworkers regularly indulged in but also refusing to be left in the dust had clearly gone overboard. The distension of her belly was shaken by the unhappy growls of he intestines working at a snail's pace to break down the slurry of fast food she'd nearly choked herself with trying to match even a fraction of their paces, her jaw and throat muscles unable to hold a candle to their abilities to stretch. But that wasn't the worst of it. Oh no. it was the tiny, blue-skinned chick with an absolute monster of an ass that had taken one look at the two nutters next to Emerald cramming their mouths full of fat-booty blondes and decided she wanted in on that action, shoving herself donk first into Emerald's face to send the huntress sprawling on her spectacularly fat ass and somehow, somehow cramming what had to be a hundred and ten pounds of sweaty berry flavored booty down her very much aching jaw. She wasn't gonna be able to chew right for weeks.

#v/ore #muse: wft #temp muse: samus #temp muse: emerald #fast food au

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jacky-rubou · 7 months

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here's the psychoanalysis of Never Turn Back by Crush 40 and how it relates to Ford that I have briefly mentioned I was gonna write. hope you guys like it!

Going to put this under a cut as it got decently long.

First of all, before the actual lyrics, I would like to mention that the piano intro feels very 'Ford thinking about his childhood with Stan and all the heartache that ensued-esque'

anyway, on to the actual lyrics, minus the whoa-yeahs and other not-really-lyrics. also, I have the first and second verse analyses written out before the chorus' analysis as I feel it would be anticlimactic to end on a verse and not the chorus. Also I have only used the unique phrases in the song, as I don't care to repeat myself every time a lyric repeats, which is a lot for this particular song.

1st Verse

It's been a long, rough road

And I'm finally here

Ford's time in the portal could most definitely be considered a 'long, rough road' that he finally made it to the end of when he was saved. This or he's singing this right before entering the Nightmare Realm to fight Bill. Whichever one could work, though the second one to me feels more in-character because he wanted to be fighting Bill, but not to be saved. Though I guess you could also say the first interpretation could be a post-canon Ford.

I move an inch forward

Feels like a year

Ford felt like his progress in thirty years of work on finding a way to defeat Bill was at a snail's pace in the moment, plus his sense of time being distorted due to no point of reference for what time it is in every dimension he's been in. Everything's a drag when your actual progress is minimal in the face of your trials.

Everything I feel seems so unreal

Is it true?

Ford's sense of reality was slipping, his dreams with Bill bleeding into the real world to the point where he doesn't know what is real and what isn't. Not helped by the unreal feeling of the dimensions he travels.

I take one step forward

And two steps back

Progress for Ford is hard to come by in the portal as mentioned before, Bill's possessions ruining any progress on his research into an ultimate weapon until the plate was installed. Also could be how Ford feels about his back and forth with Bill and his own mistakes undermining his progress.

Got a hundred thousand pounds

Sitting on my back

There is a ton of pressure on Ford to perform well, to fix his mistakes alone, that he feels overburdened by the weight of it all. But he will carry the weight alone all the same.

Up, down, all around

Don't know quite what to do

To get through

Ford didn't know how he could possibly destroy Bill and survive at the same time before the portal opened. Or, while he knows a lot about Bill, that he has relatively few ways he knows to defeat him.

2nd Verse

I guess I'm moving all right and I'm on my way

Facing every moment day by day

Ford when he was getting closer to making his weapon and defeating Bill, he was feeling confident that he could and would do it.

Take a chance, slip on by, got no time to answer why

Head straight, head straight

Ford took plenty of risks, or chances, in his goals with fighting Bill. He 'got no time to answer why' when Dipper asked him about his relationship with Bill. And we know how straight minded Ford is with his goals.

What will I become if I don't look back

What will happen if Ford refuses to back down from what he knows he should do? or if he doesn't look back at his past?

(Honestly though, this one's stumping me, but I swear it makes sense in my head)

Give myself a reason for this and that

Ford must have a reason to be doing everything he does, justifying it in his head as the right thing to do, what he must do.

I can learn, no U-turns, I will stay right here where I'm at, where I'm at

He won't let himself go backwards, with his progress with Bill or otherwise. He must push forward, or at the very least stay where he's at. He will learn from his mistakes.

Pre-Chorus

Well I'm on my way

On my way

Ford is very persistent and headstrong in his goals, simply using what Bill is planning to do as a motivator to say he's 'on his way' to defeat him.

Chorus

Here I am, here I am

Made it to the end of you

Ford has survived what many others could not have, and now, here in the Fearamid, he's finally seeing the end of Bill. Could potentially also be applied to his mindset right before the portal opened, that he'd had Bill in his scope and he was about to kill him, but the Fearamid business feels a bit more true to what I'm talking about.

You never had a chance while I'm around

Bill was way out of his league when it came to Ford, underestimating him until the very end. If Ford hadn't been around, Stan could not have pulled off the trick quite so well. Could also be Ford right when he was about to shoot him like the previous line but this fits better in my mind.

Well, now I'll never turn back, I'll never turn back

I'll never turn that way

No matter how life tries to face me

I'll turn the other way

Ford is a very determined individual. He will not turn away from his goals if he can help it. No matter what Bill or life in general throws at him, he will not let them stop him in his tracks.

Now and then, now and then

My head starts to spin, starts to spin

But I'll never turn back again

Remembering how Ford's eye began to bleed because of Bill's possessions with this one. The after effects of Bill's influence won't make him give up no matter what.

From this moment on, moment on

I am moving on, moving on

And I'll never turn back

Post-Canon, Ford is moving on past his trauma with Bill and his grudges with Stan. He won't let his past control him like it used to. Ford will look forward to a peaceful ending, one that he deserves.

thank you for reading. If any of you have suggestions for alternate readings for Ford with this song, lemme know as some lines gave me trouble.

#gravity falls #ford pines #stanford pines #grunkle ford #bill cipher #stan pines #< mentioned little but it still counts #psychoanalysis #song #character analysis #inspired when i saw an amv for him with this song #i say it was just for him but the amv title said it was for both stans even though it only really focused on ford most of the time lol #in any case #this is a ford song and here is my proof

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dalliansss · 9 months

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Galvorn au

fame is a strange thing. some men gain glory after they die, while others fade

song of achilles — madeline miller sentence starters

Maeglin, bruised and battered, his galvorn armor stained with blood and guts (thankfully none of which belonged to him), sat by the long hallway leading to the overcrowded Healing Houses of Himring, awaiting his turn to be looked at by Helwion and his team of overworked and sleepless elven healers. The crowd inches forward at a snail's pace. Maeglin sat where he is supposed to be, only rousing from his reverie when the elves ahead of him by the queue also shuffle tiredly along.

This was the third attack of Angband toward Himring this year; and always, they have been prepared -- and by Maeglin's own tireless efforts, the people of his husband (and his people too, as consequence), are better armored and equipped -- galvorn armor, galvorn blades, galvorn arrowheads. But Morgoth's retaliation was to send tougher beasts, tougher orcs, more venomous werewolves with teeth now tough enough to dent galvorn armor. Ever since his first blunder, Maeglin had learned fast that living in Himring and The Gap -- the very frontlines facing Angband, was a world of difference that his safe and comfortable existence so far in Doriath, behind the Queen's Girdle.

It frustrates him, that despite his work, despite his husband Maedhros's genius -- still they lose lives. An entire platoon of annabon and a good number of Bór's people had perished under the unslaught of the Valaraukar and úruloki. Just remembering it makes Maeglin's sharp gray eyes warm with annoyed tears.

He sees it now, what Maedhros has been discreetly telling him: the Eldar cannot win this, not without everybody putting in all their utmost in a single, decisive attack. And Maeglin remembers his own Atar, Eöl, who had risked exile and banishment from Thingol's court in Menegroth, for daring to be vocal that the Sindar should take this chance again with better allies, to once and for all put forth their strength and numbers in an attempt to free Beleriand from the Enemy.

No matter how much armor, blade, arrowheads, siege towers and siege engines Maeglin and Eöl designed, ultimately...it may not matter.

His turn comes. He sits before an exhausted, gaunt-looking Helwion -- the Chief Healer of Himring was as stubborn as his lord, able to power through most situations, and countless times have pulled Eldar and Edain from the brink of death with his hands or with the aid of his team. Helwion orders Maeglin to strip off his dented breast plate and arm bracers, and Maeglin complies in quiet. He has long accepted Helwion is the one person in Himring who can order around Maedhros and himself.

His chainmail is also removed. His bruises are many, and he has a few cracked ribs. Helwion spares him a cup of numbing tonic, and warns him before he pushes what ribs he can back into place, and despite the tonic, Maeglin grits his teeth and cries out several times. Then Helwion puts him in a brace and strictly admonishes him from training and sparring, and that he should take full five days of bed rest. Helwion glared as he uttered these instructions, and Maeglin doggedly avoided his gaze. Helwion was long familiarized with his own stubbornness. "Match made in stubborn nuisance," Helwion had once commented of Maeglin and Maedhros's marriage.

He is given three bottles of painkiller tonics before Helwion ushers him away for the next patient. Maeglin dresses again, and bearing his chest plate and chain mail, he takes the long and winding path to the tower he shares with his husband.

There he finds their suites empty. Maedhros had not yet returned. He sets aside his chest plate and chain mail, and tiredly gets out of the other pieces of his armor, letting them drop to the floor. Then Maeglin curls up under the furs and pelts on their bed, and falls into an uneasy sleep.

He wakes to the warm touch of Maedhros's fleshly hand on his cheek. Maeglin rouses, and he and Maedhros share a meager supper of mutton broth, some thick-crust bread and warm ale. After the meal, Maedhros sits with him in bed, and Maeglin curls up into his side, his cheek on his husband's chest, and Maedhros's gold-and-mithril fingers carding through his black curls.

"Fame is a strange thing," Maeglin comments, breaking the long quiet between them. "Some men gain glory after they die, while others fade...the ellon who manned that trebuchet, for example...he will be remembered by the Eldar of Himring has having brought down an úruloki, but the young captain of yours from the western flank...trod in the mire...he might be forgot...."

"You are melancholic today," Maedhros murmurs. "But war does that to anyone. Perhaps you need a break." He kisses Maeglin's forehead. "Perhaps you need to go home to Doriath for a while. Go back to Eöl and Irissë. Mm...?"

Maeglin shakes his head. Gingerly, he tightens his arm around Maedhros's torso. "No. If you can build your strength, then I will build mine too. Just stay with me like this, when you can. I will manage. Just stay with me, himelya."

Maedhros answers not. Instead he rests his chin on Maeglin's head, and holds him closer, ever careful of his injuries.

@skaelds

#galvorn prince #maedhros #maeglin #lomion #silmarillion #my drabs #maedhros/maeglin

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randomvarious · 11 months

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youtube

9 Lazy 9 - "Spoonful of Slow" Ninja Cuts: Flexistentialism Song released in 1994. Compilation released in 1996. Downtempo / Lounge

Plays: ~683.6K on Spotify // ~21.5K on YouTube

9 Lazy 9 were a staple of the legendarily jazzy and funky UK trip hop / downtempo / breakbeat label NInja Tune's roster for about a decade before eventually choosing to self-release their material through Bandcamp. A pair of likeminded British blokes named James Bradell (Funki Porcini) and Keir Fraser spent the 80s as members of industrial bands before deciding to team up in Rome and put out super chill lounge music instead. They landed on Ninja Tune in '93 with a 12-inch called Take Nine, and the following year they put out their debut album, Paradise Blown, which includes a tune on it called "Spoonful of Slow" that would also appear on a NInja Tune sampler in '96 called Ninja Cuts: Flexistentialism.

Now, I don't know what the 9s in 9 Lazy 9 actually stand for—if they even stand for anything at all—but this short and sweet tune of theirs sure does happen to be a lazy one. This is a quiet and lulling, snail's-paced sedative to make your eyelids droop, like a 1960s cocktail lounge hipster's hi-fi's been slipped a quaalude or something. A simple and soft piano chord melody plays over top of a dubby bassline and plodding drumbeat as vocalists (probably Bradell and Fraser themselves) sing softly and soothingly without using any words. Then the thing gets cinched together with the addition of a deeper melody, in the form of a plonking keyboard.

To be honest, the song actually sounds like some unfinished interlude of sorts, but it closes out that Ninja Cuts comp itself and it also serves as a nice tune to unwind yourself to. It kind of feels like the sonic equivalent to one of those big and deep sighs of relief you might take when you're in a comfortable and contented state 😌.

Nice and pleasurable mid-90s groove from pretty early in this transplanted Roman duo's career.

#downtempo #lounge #lounge music #electronic #electronic music #music #90s #90s music #90's #90's music

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junior-high-nene-official · 5 months

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// continuation of the last post ! slight sui ideation this time, as well as being sick/injuries.

Nene woke, and it was dark out. She wondered how long she had been out.. It didn't matter. Her head was throbbing so bad. She cried out when she came into consciousness enough to recognize the pain. It hurt. So. Fucking. Bad.

She stood up and stumbled down the last few steps, coughing and shuddering with chills. Shit, she either got a fever while she was passed out or she left the front door open. Either way, she couldn't do this anymore. It hurt so bad. Her mother wasn't even home to help. She was a disappointment to her mother anyways though-- her mother probably hated her. A freak like her. Someone who couldn't even talk. She didn't even get good, outstanding grades like Rui. She couldn't be good at one thing her mother would like. Maybe that's why she left all the time.

In the midst of Nene's thinking, she had gone on autopilot. Moving out of her house, she went walking. She walked to the other car, the Kusanagi's owned, unable to open the door without a key. Fuck. It was probably best she didn't drive anyway, it was illegal and dangerous at this point.. but still.

She couldn't breathe as the wind picked up, knocking her down and covering her in a bit of snow. She didn't know where she could go-- fuck she.. there was one place.

She didn't want to. She couldn't be a bother. But..

She began her stumble to the Kamishiro household. It hurt. It hurt so bad. She looked down at the inches of snow she had to walk through, and also at her red, slightly swollen ankle. That probably wasn't good.. she was already in enough pain she thought she might go into shock if she hasnt already.

The walk to next door seemed endless. It took so much longer than she remembered.. maybe that was cause she was moving at snails pace, but it didn't matter. It hurt. And she wanted someone to help. She couldn't-- she couldn't be in this pain anymore. It was either die out here or get help from anyone in there, even if it was just Rui's mother.. either option seemed fine with her at this point, but she persevered as stubborn as she was, until she reached the Kamishiro door step, shivering and pale, her cheeks red and ankle swollen.

#the lonely streets..#tw sui ideation

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team-heavenly · 2 years

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Chapter 11 - Part 2

Continues on from Part 1, which you can find here!

Andrea: “...Okay! :D”

Unrestrained summer fun with the girls!

Update: They ended up in a cave and didn’t die, so that’s promising.

Quirky Crown is where we’re at. Hey, this is a pretty nice paradise hiding underneath the quicksand!

I grit my teeth and expected the worst after what Nonsensical Castle put us through. And I did reset once, after this happened:

Floor 2: *spawns into a monster house*

Floor 3: *walks into a monster house because the only path forward led there*

Floor 4: *spawns into a monster house*

Me: OH COME ON!!!

but... I didn’t need to reset after that! And thankfully it was only 10 floors.

We recruited a Magcargo and uh. THIS MOVESET. Not bad at ALL.

Also, I didn’t take a picture of this, but on the last floor, we swept through a monster house and three Pokémon asked to join us, one after the other lol. I believe it was Barboach, Mantine, and Cacturne. We got to keep them all because the waypoint was dead ahead.

Speaking of... I love the ambiance for this one. Still clearly in a cave but with aquifers or springs poking through. The oasis in the desert.

Colossal Path, same deal. I only had to reset once. Gulpin and Marcargo got beaten within an inch of their life so they had to go back. We managed to recruit a Psyduck though.

Also HECK YEAH, TERESA HAS THE BEST IQ GROUP!!

Me either, I guess, although that waypoint certainly dropped us a hint.

It sure is! That’s enough to confirm that there’s a Time Gear, right?

...Uhhh, okay. But why do I think this is maybe a bad idea?

*Everything suddenly goes dark*

Oh. That’s why.

Andrea... *buries face in hands* that is the worst thing you could possibly say rn.

I wonder who this mysterious guardian is, anyway?

Let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we?

Yup, another starter! And this one is of particular importance to me. Phanpy was my Partner in the first team that made it through the whole game. (My previous two teams failed at two crucial points... But that’s a topic for another day.)

Also, he says “Underground Lake” here, but the actual name will pop up soon, and trust me when I say it’s a good one.

The battle... Teresa has Seed Flare. Andrea has Blizzard and Octazooka. It was over within three turns.

It’s so nice to see the portrait expression here. Although I have more or less imagined the possible ones for Team Heavenly, NPCs, etc. in my head.

“Don’t lie to me!”

Uxie Bonsly... told you there was a thief, but didn’t bother to give you the details? Or at the very least name the Pokémon he saw? Sure, maybe he sent it with urgency during the incident itself. But considering Bonsly gives a witness statement after the fact to positively I.D. the subject...

Idk I just feel like a little more communication could have gone a long way to prevent this situation.

Andrea: “No! We didn’t do it!”

Phanpy: “Then who’s responsible?!”

Whoop, there it is.

Teresa feels frozen in place. Finally, for the first time in so many years, she is face to face with her son again... but he refuses to look her in the eye. He refuses to acknowledge that she’s even there. She remains paralyzed, but inside her heart shatters into a thousand pieces...

Every time I see him apologize, I think about this post and... yeah 💔

He proceeds to bat us aside like toy dolls (and this is actually a pretty convincing pose for Phanpy).

(There’s no pose for this but we’re knocked down here bro, I swear.)

I tried to take a picture of the frozen time racing across the walls, but it came out very blurry unfortunately :/

Ah, yes. A giant underground lake. Known as the Gigantic Lavafields.

“Hurry! Run with all your might!” *Everyone proceeds to walk at a snail’s pace*

Honestly, I just would have used an Escape Orb to GTFO 🤷‍♀️

Whew! If you made it this far, thanks for reading 😊 (and for your patience! As you saw, Nonsensical Castle was a doozy...). Go take a bathroom break, stretch those limbs, refill on those drinks and snacks... And before you know it, Chapter 12: (Insert nonsensical title here) will be upon ye!

#Pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd explorers #randomizer #chapter 11

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alicesought · 1 year

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Listen.

♡♠♢♣ ⁀ How many times can one push a thought from their mind?

When done improperly, or incompletely, the thoughts merely begin to pile up at the edges of the room, upon tables and under beds. And so the space your thoughts are allowed to tread shrink and shrink. And it was the claustrophobia, you see, that caused the Hatter's dizzying distant feeling as of late, his mind addled by the strain of constantly avoiding banging his shin on a thought he did not want to acknowledge. And worse so, he seems to have lost somewhere in the clutter the reason why he kept these thoughts at all. Yet he kept pushing and hiding. But all this diligence was for not, as he's abruptly struck with the mental equivalent of simply swinging the entire end table into his head, like bringing up aIn elephant painted to match the drapes.

As when one paints an elephant, it is to invoke the unspoken assumption in the guest that the host is aware of the elephant but deliberately attempting to simply live with its presence. A sort of compromise you could say, where the elephant was allowed to step on the sofa so long as it didn't clash with the throw pillows.

But all of this is nonsense. And also the horrible racing thoughts of a mad man trying desperately not to think about the person he was currently sleeping right next to.

Habitually twitchy eyes and their equally unstill pupils glance near chronically at the face beside him. They were sleeping on their back, probably best for them to lay straight after the past few days, but the hat maker rarely slept without curling and twisting to one side. Except tonight. Tonight he was stiff as a board beside them. Did they notice? Not likely. As when he first climbed into bed he was just as usual, mumbling something about croquet, offering their last goodnights.

But his eyes, treacherous things, they kept peaking open. Stealing glances of the way the blankets rose and fell with his chest and eventually wandering back up to their debilitatingly close face. Their closed eyes. Their mouth. Their mouth. Their mouth...

But the moment his brain, at last and finally, managed to complete the cognitive connection between 'lips' and 'beds' he immediately began to feel entirely too real and entirely too where he was in that moment. And red as a rose. And so he laid himself flat at the far edge. And he stared to the ceiling. And he tried to think anything else. And this is how we began to talk of elephants.

Yet his eyes kept wandering back to the sound of their breathing. To the feeling of that breathing pulsing through the sheets. And he remembers what he was asked to do. Though truthfully, he considered, at first, simply lying that he had. But you see, he let his thoughts slip just then, and now he was making up reasons.

He'll never get to sleep this way. He must rest before croquet. And if he sneaks beneath the sheets to where their heart beats, he can't be distracted by the face, surely.

And so turning onto his stomach, every last movement done at a snail's pace and about as quiet as one, he got on his hands, and with eyes locked firmly on their lips-- but also any sign of stirring-- he inched himself back closer. And much like a cat about to knock something over, he kept a steady gaze as his cheek began to approach their ebbing chest, all the way up until near contact, where at last he turns away into a comfortable position to sleep and steadily releases his full body weight onto their side.

And with one round ear against their chest he hears it. A beat more beautiful than any clock or metronome he's ever used to bring an ounce of rhythm or peace to his chaotic mind. Hypnotic.

What was it saying?

' Stop resisting ' He heard it whisper. ' Close your eyes, and come home. '

#{{ Again in reference to events on the i.c. blog lol }}#🐇 ◆◇◆ || ₜₒ bₑg ₐ ₜₐₗₑ ₒf bᵣₑₐₜₕ ₜₒₒ wₑₐₖ...|| { drabble. }#🐇 ◆◇◆ || ᴵ'ᵐ ˡᵃᵗᵉ⁻ ᴵ'ᵐ ˡᵃᵗᵉ! || { i.c. }

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blue-kyber · 2 years

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ALTARAN-HUMANS.

The lost human race. Or, rather, the first one, the one that created the established hyperspace lanes, and the forgotten one. The one to be hunted down by the keth. The victims of genocide, just because their power poses a significant threat to keth superiority. A.K.A the only ones in the galaxy capable of kicking their asses. Thus the keth sought to eliminate them. That hive mind of the keth thinking they're superior to all over life.

Altaran-humans are extremely long-lived, though because they've been hunted for so long, they don't know exactly how long they can live for.

Because they can live for centuries, here's a little bit about that...

An altaran's childhood (including adolescence) lasts 100 years, at which point they are considered a young adult for the next 300 years (becoming an adult in their prime around 400).

Within those first 100 years, they age at a snail's pace - often having points where they stop aging altogether coupled with moments of extreme hyper rapid aging. They go through a series of growth spurts throughout this time until they reach their full adult height between 100 - 110.

These growth spurts are brief - lasting only 1 - 2 months - but insanely intense. They can grow 2 - 6" per cycle. Even so, altarans are the smallest human race in all areas. They're not buff, and they're not tanks. The tallest is only 6'2". Because their average adult height is on the lower end of masakan-humans, they can blend almost seemlessly with masakan society.

They experience rapid growth indicators 10 times the intensity of normal humans. Because they can grow an inch in a week (8 days), they experience back pain - basically all over pain. If they're not around anyone who can explain what's going on, they're confused as to why they're in so much pain, and every aspect of their life is dialed up past 11.

Growth spurts also include other difficulties involving their living source - such as their 'failsafe' forming "holes" that allow their source to awaken, and their power to manifest externally. These are moments they have no control over. Their power will react to their heightened emotions, causing things to happen around them that they can't explain. Sometimes they notice, sometimes they don't. Emotional control goes out the window. Something that would be mildly scary would terrify them, often causing their source to react as if in imminent life threatening danger. Something slightly sad would make them bawl their eyes out. Something that would make someone smile would make them laugh and fill them with intense joy that would cause them to cry. Their source could react unchecked to any of their emotional reactions.

Altaran children going through a growth spurt eat constantly - day and night. They're never full thanks to their body's super nova of needs to support the extreme mental and physical changes. They suffer from extreme narcolepsy (falling asleep literally anywhere at any time, or staying up for two days straight), and are a menace to society.

They're built to handle these growth spurts, but what they go through would kill most other species - and would definitely kill other humans.

They won't look like a regular 18 year old until they're 50 or 60.

Development is also different from masakans, terrans, or mik-humans; such as mental development occurring more rapidly than their physical body. So someone who looks 15 but is 35 can pass as a normal 15 year old. When they actually are 15, they would look around 9 - 10 years old with a mentality of a twelve year old, and be no taller than 3 1/2'.

Growth spurts are painful, very emotional, resulting in crying, screaming, reacting to pain, and over dramatic outbursts, and not a fun time for everyone involved - especially their parents or guardians.

Other species dealing with altaran-humans during their adolescence should have an Ai Hiri master's level of patience. (Think Jedi master for patience comparison.)

#Worldbuilding wednesday #Altaran-humans #This is what Will and Terra were altered to be.

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itsseohannbin · 5 months

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〉 Romance On The Rocks 〈

Changbin Drabble

♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡

Genre: Smut. Fluff.

Summary: if there's anything Changbin loves more than fucking you senseless, it's making love ♡

Pairing: Idol! Seo Changbin x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut. All porn, not plot. Fingering. Soft Dom Binnie. Big Dick Binnie. Multiple Orgasms. Love-making. Slight breeding kink. Slight praise kink. Mentions of choking. Super fluffy.

Word Count: 1.9k

Enjoy!

"Bin-B-Binnie." a long, desperate whine left your mouth in the form of your boyfriend's name, causing a smirk to spread across his handsome face. Your fingernails dug impossibly deeper into the muscles of his large biceps, hard enough to leave half-moon indents across his flawless skin. "Binnie, p-p-please."

Changbin currently had two fingers knuckle deep inside of you, moving them at a snail's pace as he watched your face twist and contort from pleasure to pure bliss. His gaze was locked onto yours, those dark iris' even darker from the lust that was shooting through his veins while he watched you. He was mocking the pout you currently had resting on your lips.

"What's wrong, Darling?" he drawled out in a teasing tone, his fingers continuing to slowly inch in and out of your tight, wet pussy.

Another desperate cry slipped past your lips, leaving his cock hard and swollen. He loved seeing you all hot and desperate for him.

"Binnie, please." you moaned as Changbin then slowly curled his fingers upwards, the pads of his fingers pushing against your cervix delicately. "I ne-need you." Your hips jolted upwards, aching for more.

Changbin smirked down at you before leaning in and planting a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth.

"I know, Darling. I know. I want you too, believe me. But I gotta' prep you first or I'm not going to fit, okay? I don't want to hurt you, baby."

Another cry left your mouth at his words. He'd been teasing you for what felt like an eternity now, but you knew he was right. If he could barely keep you open enough to take his two fingers, there was no way you were going to be able to take his cock.

Contrary to popular belief, Changbin was big. Mostly in girth, but he had some length to him too, enough to allow the tip of his pretty dick to always brush your cervix in the sweetest of ways.

Changbin dropped his head into your neck and began sucking softly on the skin below your ear, causing another moan to erupt from your chest.

God, you needed him so badly. You couldn't remember the last time you were this fucking horny.

"Binnie," you whimpered as he paused his fingers movements momentarily to drag his thumb across your sensitive clit. "Binnie, please."

He removed his head from the crevice of your neck and peppered small kisses down your chest until he was level with your breasts. He left a delicate kiss on your hardening nipple before swirling his tongue around it once, causing you to buck your hips up into his touch.

"Soon, Darling. Just a couple more minutes, I promise." he cooed before his tongue shot out and ran along your bud a second time. "You can take it. I know you can."

You squeezed your eyes shut a moment later when Changbin then added another finger into your tight, wet cunt, a scream threatening to release itself from your chest. You knew Bangchan was home, probably working tirelessly at the kitchen table, but you didn't want to risk him hearing the two of you, so you tried to keep your noises low.

Although, with the way Changbin was stretching you open with his fingers, it was damn near impossible to keep the sounds inside. Changbin wished you wouldn't hold back, wished you let them all out as they came. He loved hearing you scream for him, but he also didn't want to traumatize Bangchan for the second time this week.

Changbin lowered his head again and took your nipple into his mouth a second time, his tongue swirling around the bud twice more before flicking it slowly. Everything he did was slow and sensual, and it was beginning to drive you insane.

You just wanted him inside you. You wanted him to absolutely destroy your insides the way he had done a mere few days ago while you watched him in the mirror he fucked you against, but he insisted he wanted to go slow tonight.

He didn't want you hurting any more than you already were throughout the week after the last round you guys had.

He wanted to take his time.

He wanted to make love to you.

"Binnie, oh my god." you gasped out as he pushed his fingers deeper inside of you, his thumb resuming attention on your clit. The overstimulation of his fingers, his thumb, and his tongue on your breast had you clenching around him, your climax growing closer and closer with each pump of his digits.

A blissful smile then made its way onto your face, your eyes closing in pleasure as the familiar sensation in your tummy spilled over the edge, and suddenly, your body tensed up as the white-hot wave came crashing into you. But then, all of a sudden, there was nothing.

Binnie pulled his fingers out at the last second, stopping your orgasm dead in its tracks. An involuntary whimper left your mouth at the sudden loss of contact and tears escaped your eyes unexpectedly as your orgasm was ripped away from you.

Before you could even open your eyes and beg your boyfriend to put his fingers back in, his cock was breaching your entrance. You didn't even realize he had taken his sweats off.

Despite the prep he'd been giving you for the last twenty minutes or so, his cock still stretched you so much you felt like you were being ripped in half. Slow and sturdy he pushed inside of you, his finger tilting your chin up so he could look into your eyes lovingly as he did so.

"There you go. Atta' girl." he whispered softly as he worked his way to bottoming out inside you. "Biiiiiig stretch, hmm?"

Your eyes widened at his unsuspecting words, and before you could even process what the fuck was happening, you were clenching around his cock, cumming hard. Never before had you been hit with such intensity by his words alone. It was overwhelming, and you felt like you couldn't breathe as the blinding, white-hot pleasure took over, causing you to coat him in your juices.

Changbin's eyes widened in surprise, a proud look on his face.

"Oh my gosh, Darling. Did you cum all over my cock already?" he doted as he began to move, his hips immediately falling into an agonizingly slow pace. The action only overstimulated you, the pleasure of your high was building up again quickly.

You only nodded in response, tears falling down your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath. Changbin lowered himself so the two of you were now chest to chest, his hands coming up to wipe the tears off your cheeks before he kissed you on the nose.

"You wanted it that bad, huh? Binnie's baby loves Binnie's cock, don't you?" he asked as he wiped strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead. You nodded again, wrapping your arms around his biceps and holding onto him.

"Yes." The word was barely audible, but Changbin heard it loud and clear. He leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips as his fingers intertwined with yours, resting them on either side of your head.

"Of course you do. That's why you're so good for me - Ah fuck, your pussy is so good. Feels fucking incredible baby."

His hips then picked up their pace as you stretched out for him, allowing him to snap into you the way he knew you always liked. But this time, he didn't wrap his large hands around your throat like you normally begged him to do.

Instead, he folded both of your wrists into one of his large hands and held them above your head as his lips latched onto yours. His tongue immediately pushed into your mouth, battling against yours. A string of moans and curse words fell from Changbins mouth into yours as his dick slid in and out of you. You felt so goddamn good he could cry.

His free hand then traversed the expanse of your body, his fingertips tracing your curves softly before he curled his palm underneath your knee and hooked your leg around his waist, allowing him to press himself even deeper.

With all sense of control out the window, you let out a loud moan into Changbin's mouth, instinctively wrapping your other leg around him until you were clinging to him for dear life.

The tip of his dick was now just barely brushing your cervix, making you shiver in delight as another orgasm began to build inside of you. Your hands were still trapped in his grip above your head, and Changbin's free hand was now grabbing and squeezing your ass desperately as he chased his own high.

"God, I love you so much, y/n." he whispered as he pulled himself away from your lips and nuzzled his face back into your neck. He planted a soft kiss beneath your jaw before he took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of you. "Gonna' marry you one day, I swear."

At his own words, his hips picked up speed and he began slamming into you so hard you felt yourself moving up the bed. Changbin was quick to release your hands and curled his arms underneath your figure. His hands slid up your back until they gripped onto your shoulders, where he held you still so he could fuck you harder.

"Holy fuck, Binnie. I'm gonna' cum again." you cried as you wrapped your now free arms around his neck and pulled his face back down to yours. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth and rocked your hips upwards to meet his, causing a groan to leave him. The sound was borderline pornographic, and before you knew it, another orgasm washed over you just as hard as the first one had.

"Holy shit, Binnie. I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming." you cried out, no longer caring if Bangchan heard you guys or not.

"That's a good girl," Binnie praised. "I'm right behind you sweetheart."

Changbin squeezed his eyes shut, and less than a moment later, hot strings of cum were spilling inside of you, painting your walls white and filling you up. A long, loud whine slipped past his lips as he continued to rock his hips forward, overstimulating himself to the point where he felt like he was going to pass out.

“Holy shit, Darling,” he whispered as his hips eventually slowed to a stop. “Fuck, that was incredible.”

He lifted his head from where it was shoved into your neck and took you in.

And Hell, you were a sight.

Your fucked out expression, your hair sprawled out across the pillow beneath you, sweat sticking to your forehead and cheeks. He swore, you never looked more beautiful than in that moment.

“I’m gonna’ fucking marry you one day, Darling.” he blurted as he curled a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You let out a giggle, trying to ignore the way your cheeks began to heat up at his words.

“Yeah?” you grinned.

The smile you sent back up to him instantly made him hard again.

“Absolutely,” he responded before curling his arms around your waist and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling him. He pulled you down to his chest, his cock still stuffed inside of you, and planted a kiss on your temple.

“I’m gonna’ marry you and stuff this pussy so full every goddamn day that it’ll be impossible to not have my babies,” he spoke. You could feel him growing hard again inside you despite the loads of cum that was spilling out of your hole, pooling in the curls of hair that sat around his cock.

“Oh, you think so, hey?” you teased as you rested your chin on his hard chest and smiled up at him. Changbin quirked his brow, his hands running aimlessly up and down your back.

"Oh, I know so sweetheart." he chided back before stretching his neck up to kiss you on the forehead. "This sweet little cunt is the only one for me."

Hannjis Pookie Wookie Bears 🐻: @moonlightndaydreams @noellllslut @bethanysnow @channieandhisgoonsquad @queenmea604 @newhope8

#seo changbin #seo changbin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids seo changbin #stray kids changbin #Romance On The Rocks #Hannji Writes #Hannji's Drabbles #itshannjisung writing #itshannjisung fic

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tendousfingers · 3 years

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the love club kinktober — day 24

× contents: atsumu + somnophilia

× warnings: wc: 1.9k , fem!reader, oral fixation, somnophilia, dub con, oral m! receiving , finger sucking , gagging , daddy kink , hair pulling , face fucking , dacryphilia , cum swallowing, let me know if i missed anything!

× this is my second piece for the love club kinktober collab! my previous piece was on the 7th , and you can also catch me on the 27th. please enjoy the collab as well as the other writers!

the soft illumination of the streetlights seeping through the window is what you saw over atsumu's face as he slept soundly. blonde locks a splayed out mess on his pillow, mouth slightly gaped open with his cheek pressed against it firmly.

you can only watch him in silence, the tip of your thumb popped between your lips as you suck on it gently. your bottom lip was already swollen from you sucking on that as well, a rubber straw discarded on your bedside table because that wasn't doing the trick either.

you nearly whimper as your boyfriend rolls over into his back in his sleep, snorting and throwing the blanket off of himself. atsumu had always been a restless sleeper, tossing and turning all night long. yet, tonight you felt as if you were the restless one. no matter what you tried, nothing was satisfying your oral fixation the way that it usually did. on a normal night, atsumu would have no problem shoving his fingers or cock down your throat. while he was a brat most of the time, there was always the occasion to service you when you need him.

however, he had come in awfully tired from practice, and having noticed that, you decided to try and deal with this on your own so that he could rest. it wasn't like atsumu would have turned you down, in fact, he would be more than happy to help, and had told you on numerous occasions that if you needed him while he was sleeping, not to hesitate to help yourself. it was only the fact that, you didn't want to bother him after he had come home.

with yet another whimper, you watch as his shirt begins to ride up his stomach, exposing a fine happy trail of dark hairs that match his natural coloring. you can't help but reach out and run your fingers over it impulsively, almost immediately retracting your hand once he even shifts slightly. he stirs, but doesn't wake up, which has one of your brows lifting to your hairline in surprise, because if you had been touched like that you would have definitely woken up.

you pursue the thought further, wondering just how far you could get before actually waking him up. he said it was okay, all that time ago, so it must be, right? atsumu wouldn't mind. at least, that's what you decide to go with as you slide down beneath the covers and between his legs, palms smoothing over his muscular thighs that peek out at you beneath sleep shorts. carefully, you shift the sheets down lower and lower until you're able to poke your head out, just enough to be able to see his face when needed.

by now, your mouth has gone dry and your heart is doing backflips behind your ribcage, all while you reach for the waistband of his shorts. 'just a little..' is what you tell yourself, that you'll suck on the tip of his cock just until you're satisfied, then you'll cover him back up and go to sleep. easy.

slowly, with the pace of a snail you slide his shorts down, inch by tedious inch, all the way until you can tuck the elastic beneath his balls. you have to cover your mouth to middle the moan that barrels past your lips at the sight of his flaccid cock, soft and supple. it's leaning to one side, blood steadily flowing through it just from feeling the cool draft of the room. you take one glance at his face to make sure he's still sleeping, then you gently lap at his soft cock until it's stands, before popping the head into your mouth.

it's just perfect, the weight against your tongue as it gets harder and harder, the slight tang of his skin. your eyes roll shut, and /finally/ you feel at ease. fingers curl into the hem of his shirt, and you let out a sigh than can only be described as relief or satisfaction.

on the other end of the bed, atsumu finds himself attempting to shift in his sleep, only to find that your own body had been laid between his legs, now pinning his lower half to the mattress. he groans lowly, reaching down blindly to grab at whatever was holding him down. his hand rubs against your forehead and hair, and his brows furrow in confusion.

as the foggy haze of sleep begins to lift, the pro athlete's heavy eyelids crack open, blinking until his vision is focused on the dark room around him. the hand that had brushed against you now tightly grips your hair, atsumu's eyes fluttering at the sudden sensation of a wet, vacuum-like seal around the head of his cock.

even though minutes had passed, it didn't feel like it to you. you had only meant to appease your urges and then go to bed without disturbing him, stealthily and undetected. but somehow, with atsumu's amused eyes staring down at you as he begins to sit up, you don't have much of an argument to give him, popping off of his cock audibly with a gasp.

"well, would ya look at this, couldn't help yer self tonight could'ya?"

you feel the embarrassment creeping up on you, hands planting down on the satin sheets as you attempt to push yourself up and into a sitting up position. "n-no, tsumie i-i" his iron grip over your hair keeps you in place, sheet rolling down your back because you had managed to only get up on your knees. atsumu grins down at you, using his free hand to shove his fingers past your lips while the other continues to hold your hair. he hums, pushing down on your bottom jaw until it falls open, then sliding his fingers in a v shape over your tongue and teeth.

"don't try 'ta lie to me sweetheart. needed somethin' in this slutty mouth of yours, didn't you?"

drool drips down his fingers and knuckles as he continues to prod your mouth, pressing down onto your tongue at the back of your mouth and drawing out a gag from you. with his phalanges halfway down your throat, you can't exactly talk, so in response to his question all you can do is nod your head with a muffled whine,

atsumu's eyes gleam with amusement at this, and he withdraws his fingers from your mouth and paints your spit across your lips and cheeks. "alright then. since you told me the truth like a good girl, daddy's gunna stuff that pretty little mouth 'a yers. how's that sound?"

excitement swells within your chest, fingers bunching in the sheets to keep you from jumping for joy. you watch with focused eyes as atsumu leans back, carefully sliding his shorts and boxers down the rest of the way. atsumu sits up on his knees, hands smoothing over the back of your head. with you bent over on your knees, his cock immediately nudges against your lips, smearing precum over them in the process. you look up at him with pleading eyes, just silently begging him to put it in your mouth.

you can only admire the view while you wait, fine hairs and sculpted abdominals on the path up to his muscular neck. his adams apple bobs visibly before he looks down at you. "you'd better take it like a good girl— all of it, n no crying' "

atsumu grins when your head bobs in an uncoordinated nod, desperate to finally have him in your mouth the way you want. he takes a hold of his cock and gently guides it to your lips, hand dropping when you wrap your lips around the head. the heaviness on your tongue is what causes your eyes to flutter shut, head falling into a steady bobbing rhythm.

with each pass you go lower and lower, until finally your nose brushes against the fine pubic hairs around the thick base. he hums in appreciation, especially at the way your throat closes in around his shaft. but it's a fleeting sensation, because you're soon sliding back up to the tip to give it a kiss and a generous suck.

blonde lashes flutter, equally blonde locks shafting as his head falls back and a heavy exhale of breath passes through his lips. you find you way back down, and with each growing second, atsumu becomes more and more obsessed with the pleasure that tingles his spine, toes curling up and the grip over your head becoming tighter.

a particular plunge of his cock down your throat has him sputtering out loudly, his hips jerking forward and hands tugging you back, over and over until he's built a rhythm of his own. your nose bends against his toned stomach, the inability to breathe through it causing a gag to force itself through you. atsumu's eyes roll back into his head, his fingers flexing tightly over your scalp as his resolve and control weakens.

tears build up behind your eyelids and force them to open, then blinking rapidly to send those tears dripping down your cheeks. atsumu thinks you look the most pretty just like this, with his cock bulging down your throat and those pretty eyes looking up at him like that, glassy and wide.

the depth that his cock reaches is nearly overwhelming, bottom jaw dropping wide open to let out a throaty groan. "oh fuck— fuck! take it, take it. this is what ya wanted, huh? me stuffin' yer face like this?"

you'd answer, if your throat wasn't being pounded down into, heavy balls smacking your chin with every forward motion he takes. but fuck it was perfect, so good, so satisfying. all you can do is slide your hands up his torso in appreciation, back dipping into a fine arch while you clench and gush down below, soiling your panties. tears and spit drip down your face until meeting together at the bottom of your chin, smearing and falling onto the bed sheets.

atsumu's grip on your hair tightens to a point where it's nearly painful, his hips canting forward much sloppier now. with such a quickness you're not even given a warning before his hands slide to the back of your head and force you forward until he can't shove his cock any further, his own eyes pricking with tears of pleasure, "fuck— m'cummin! don't you fucking spit it out!"

it's warm— the cum, as it splurts into your mouth in an ungodly amount, so much that it seeps through the corners of your mouth. he stays still, holding you in that exact position until he feels your throat tighten one last time, indicating that you've swallowed his load. he pulls his hips back slowly, cock coming out shiny and wet, thin strings of your saliva stretching from the inside of your mouth and throat, connected to his tip.

you're left with glazed over smile on your face, so satisfied and blissful atsumu can't help but smile too. your hands come up to wipe at your mouth and cheeks, swollen lips parting to mumble out a, "thank you daddy, thank you." over and over again. atsumu's big hands come down to cup your cheeks, slightly smushing them together and making your lips pucker, "anything for my sweet girl, yeah?"

#atsumu miya #atsumu smut #tlc kinktober #the love club kinktober #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu smut #hq smut #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya smut #fingie.fics

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joheunsaram · 2 years

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Chaperoning (knj) - 2

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Summary- What better way to spend time with your boyfriend than to chaperone your sister and nine of her high school friends on a trip to the mountains?

word count- 2.4k

pairing- boyfriend!Namjoon x Reader

rating- PG15

genre- established relationship, fluff, very slight angst, basically just fluff.

warnings- anxiety, very very very soft joonie

a.n- hello it has been forever since I uploaded the first chapter! But here’s the new one! Hopefully now that I have quit my shitty job all my series are gonna be updated frequently.

This series will also have underage drinking in the future but will not glorify it because I want to portray realistic high schoolers and not Disney high schoolers lol, but if that makes you uncomfortable please skip the chapter with it or do not read.

A huge thank you @moccahobi and @kithtaehyung for beta reading this and making me fluffy with their amazing comments!

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

Send me an ask to be on the taglist!

“Oh! I see mine! I see mine!” Saima screeched, jumping up and down as the rest of her friends groaned, somehow already tired from the short two hour flight. Despite the airport being newly renovated, the luggage carousel was the slowest you had ever seen inching along at a snail’s pace.

“Got you,” Namjoon smiled, cutting through the crowd and effortlessly picking up the gigantic suitcase with one hand as the group of high school girls around you swooned. The eye roll you gave them would suggest you were unaffected, but your heart turning to mush within your chest said otherwise.

With the last of the luggage stowed away on one of the three carts, your group moved towards the exits. Although the flight had been short, the real journey began now — a four hour drive up the mountains to the cottage one of the girls’ parents had graciously booked for all of you. You were definitely not looking forward to the topsy turvy ride through the narrow winding roads, your stomach turning at the thought. Especially when your eyes met the van you had hired online for the journey.

The rusted heap had paint peeling off of it, a bright paper sign attached to the side door that had almost every other word misspelled. Although it seemed in working condition, the fact that only that vehicle stood between you and a massive drop had you on edge.

“Don’t be nervous. We’ll be okay,” Namjoon said, gently shoving your shoulder with his as he rolled his cart towards the van, leading your little conclave. The girls were less concerned, already fighting over whose phone would be the first to sync to the Bluetooth.

“I’m not nervous,” you lied, huffing as you walked ahead to meet the driver, ignoring the way your boyfriend shook his head at you with a grin. Horrifyingly, the bags were not placed in the car, instead the driver stood on the roof, lugging them up and strapping them tightly before wrapping a giant canvas cloth on top to secure them. The tower of bags was lopsided and just looking at it made you anxious — not for losing whatever the girls had brought, but for how it might affect the van’s center of gravity. It wouldn’t tip the car over a mountain right?

“It’s not gonna make the car tip. That’s not physically possible,” Namjoon whispered as if reading your thoughts, a hand squeezing your shoulder in comfort, while the girls, oblivious to your nerves, climbed into the car, now arguing over which snacks to eat in the car and which to save for the cottage.

You had spent the past week watching YouTube videos and reading reviews of others who had taken the same trip, till you were too nauseous to continue watching the same winding roads. Namjoon knew you were scared, as much as you’d never admit it to him and so he had done his own research too.

“Please take the route through the town,” he said as soon as everyone was settled and ready to go, the back rows filled with your sister and her friends, leaving the two of you on the convenient two seater first row. The driver looked at him confused, scratching his head as he argued it was less aesthetic and added another hour to the journey, but Namjoon was adamant, standing his ground till the other man acquiesced begrudgingly.

“Why through town?” you asked, confused as to why Namjoon would be so hellbent on such a tiny detail.

“Cause I want a soda,” he answered simply, putting his baseball cap back on as he relaxed in the seat, spreading his legs and making you pinch him, annoyed as he all but squished you against the window.

The journey was long, the girls all falling asleep rather quickly as the car chugged along the highway. It was different than you’d imagined. Instead of using the roads on the edge of the mountain, you seemed to be going around the outskirts of it, the incline barely noticeable and the windows only displaying little villages with kids running around, rather than the gargantuan cliffs you had seen online. It was rather peaceful, but you still felt your heart thrumming, anxious for when you would reach the edge of the mountain.

It was inevitable, and just as dusk arrived so did the winding roads. Objectively, the view was breathtaking. The valley was a large, green expanse with little houses and cottages littered across, against a backdrop of forested mountains that peaked through the clouds. If you looked at the horizon, you could even ignore how there was no railing next to the narrow road, wide enough to let one car through at a time and how the low hanging branches made eerie thuds every time they bounced off the luggage. But as night started falling and the driver talked about speeding up, you couldn’t ignore the way your nerves made your hands shake.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to convince yourself that this was just a normal day for the driver — that he had been driving these roads for years. Tried as you might, you couldn’t force yourself to relax, your fists balled in your lap and breaths shortened. You pursed your lips, trying to control your breathing and ignoring the bile that rose up your throat at each sharp turn.

“I won’t let us die,” Namjoon murmured, unclenching your hands and lacing your fingers with his, his other hand moving your head to lay it comfortingly on his shoulder. His thumb caressing the back of your hand was grounding, helping you even out your breaths despite the fact you knew Namjoon rationally couldn’t do anything if the car fell to its doom. It was easier to keep your eyes shut, listening to Namjoon humming along to the radio, his baritone reverberating through his chest akin to a purr as he periodically squeezed your palm in his. He chuckled at the girls’ morose song choice – the Smith’s There’s A Light That Never Goes Out, adding to your nausea. Especially when he sang the chorus gleefully squeezing you against his chest.

It may have been ten minutes or it may have been ten hours, but before you knew it, you were at the cottage, the relief of your destination making you exhausted. Nestled in the peaks, it was surrounded by evergreens. They stood tall, kissing the night sky, protecting the large wooden house with deep oak doors. There was a quiet that you had never experienced, peppered with the sounds of the swaying forest and critters that inhabited it. It was so different from the sounds of traffic and the bright lights of the city outside of your apartment that it was a bit jarring in its awe, as if you could hear your thoughts as they formed.

“Last one in gets the shitty room,” your sister screamed, running out of the van, her challenge forcing her friends to follow suit. With how beautiful the cottage was you doubted there were any shitty rooms, but then again, as chaperones the girls had already relegated you to the lone room downstairs.

While the girls argued about how to divide the rooms as they ventured inside, you introduced yourself to the small staff of three who carried your luggage, piling it near the front door. When you entered, you found your boyfriend trying to calm the quarreling teenagers

“It’s a simple method, you all pick a number and that’s the order everyone goes upstairs. Once you enter the room, that room’s yours, regardless of how many people are already there,” you heard Namjoon explain as everyone sat sprawled on the couches in rapt attention.

“That’s absurd Mr. Joon! What if everyone chooses the same room!”

“Well then go with the non obvious choice. That’s the fun of it!”

“Easy for you to say! You both already have a room!” was the loud protest, but Namjoon just chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly as he made his way over to you, resting his arms on top of your head.

“Should’ve been born earlier, I guess,” he joked with a tight lipped smile as the room groaned. Yet the girls were enamored with your boyfriend, following his instructions to pick the rooms.

After another couple of chaotic hours consisting of dinner — mac and cheese and some traditional stew, a stomach rumbling combination — the girls were finally settled in, the long journey taking a toll on them and leaving the two of you to retire to the only room on the first floor of the cottage. You weren’t sure if the girls had suggested the room for their privacy or yours but you were glad for the silence as soon as the door closed, their excited voices muffling dramatically.

The long drive and anxiety finally caught up to you as you toppled into bed, starfishing over the covers with a deep sigh, your boyfriend chuckling at you as he twiddled with the portable heater at the corner of the room. As beautiful and cozy the cottage was, it had no internal heating and with the temperature almost below freezing, the whole place was bone-chillingly cold. So much so, that you were both still dressed in your coats as you waited for the room to heat up.

Despite the cold, the mattress was plush, molding to your body and letting you sink into its comfort. Namjoon smiled at you as he unpacked his toiletries, watching you almost fall asleep before he was tossing your own little pouch at you.

“Wash up before bed, baby,” he chided with a grin, leaving you to go to the ensuite. You wanted to get up, but the sound of the shower running was soothing, relaxing you after the long day and despite your best attempts your eyelids closed, sleep pulling at you. A nap wouldn’t hurt.

When Namjoon finished his shower, he found you sleeping soundlessly, mouth hanging open, arms still outstretched as you laid in the middle of the bed. He smiled as he dried his hair, congratulating himself for his idea to go through the less picturesque route to ease your anxiety – you would never sleep this deeply if you were as wired up the whole time as you had been the last half hour of the trip.

You were always too proud to share what you considered your weaknesses with him. At first it was a sour point in your relationship, he always thought that you didn’t trust him with your vulnerabilities, but after years together he knew that it was just your attempt at keeping his worries at bay, to not make him fuss over you.

However, just like you still hesitated sharing your weaknesses, he still fussed over you, albeit subtly now, finding ways to ease your worries without you reminding him of them. He liked it better this way, it made him feel proud, like he had solved a riddle you had presented him with. And he always solved the riddles.

Dressed in his pajamas, he made his way over to you, gently coaxing you awake with fingers stroking your hair as you whined. It was laughable how you were too haughty to share your fear of heights with him but let him baby you, as he helped you brush your teeth and wash your face like you were a toddler.

“Cold,” you whined, wrapping your arms around him as you finished changing into your sleep shorts and t-shirt, and he cooed, returning your hug, waddling the two of you towards the bed.

“I told you to buy sweats,” he said amused as you refused to let go of him even when you were both under the thick covers, cocooning yourself into his warmth, your face nuzzling his chest as he chuckled, pulling you tighter against him, relishing the content sigh that escaped your lips.

“Sweats make you lazy,” you muttered your often used mantra and Namjoon rolled his eyes at your silly belief that if you owned a pair of sweatpants you would never put on real pants which would then make you lounge all day. He had a closet full of them as proof to the contrary – a closet that you were a fan of using as your own. Not that he minded seeing you in his sweats, the hem rolled up to your knees. It was always a funny sight.

“Sweats make you warm,” he retorted, pulling the comforter higher over you, guarding you against the chill of the room. You didn’t respond, too busy rubbing your cold feet against him, leeching off his natural heat as you snuggled. He groaned at your antics, trapping your legs under his and earning a resigned huff from you before he acquiesced, rubbing his feet on yours to warm you up.

“Joonie,” you murmured after a moment, your head finally detaching itself from his chest to look at him as he hummed, eyes peering at you in question as he gently stroked your scalp. “Thanks for telling him not to take the scary route.”

He laughed at that, a loud cackle as his lips met yours in a chaste kiss, his smile painted upon your lips as his fingers found their home between yours. Your heart melted at your gentle giant of a boyfriend. You knew he had never been to this country, let alone to this mountaintop, and it was obvious that he had done his research, probably hours of it to figure out a route that would ease your nerves.

He always did these little gestures, and it never failed to make you realize just how lucky you were to be with him, to have someone so caring. It made you wonder why you ever settled for less, ever gave your heart to someone who didn’t treat it with the same fragility that Namjoon did. As your heart danced with joy within your chest, safe and happy to be Namjoon’s, you made a note to yourself to buy Jimin another dinner for introducing you to him.

“Anytime, jagiya,” he whispered, pulling you close, his long limbs wrapping around you, the rarely used pet name making you giddy.

“Love you, jaan,” you whispered back your own rare pet name and his face erupted in a goofy smile, eyes disappearing under his high cheeks as his dimples deepened.

Nestled under the warm covers with your boyfriend, high up in the mountains with his soft snores lulling you to sleep, you felt content for the first time in ages, glad that your sister had roped the two of you into this trip to explore your home country.

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I hope you enjoyed this! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

#namjoon x reader #Namjoon fluff #Namjoon series #rm x reader #rm fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #Namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #rm fanfic #Namjoon fic #bts scenarios #houseofddaeng #thebtswritersclub #btsgoldnet #ficscafe #52hertz #bangtanbathhouse #purplearmynet

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omg-imatotalmess · 3 years

Note

tHOT!! asking fred a question as you're pegging him and being the brat he is, he goes "aye aye captain" instead of "yes" and you're like "excuse me? what?" and he just keeps going with it, until you're slamming into him so hard he's struggling to breathe and he asks to come and you're like say my name first and he's just goes ABOVE AND BYOND all "fuck, 'm sorry mommy/miss/ma'am (whatever you're into), so sorry, you own me" etc. - peach anon needs to stop sinning

Oh my god, Peachy, I love this. He would do some dumb shit like that. It's how you know you're definitely going too easy on him. Like, if he can still form enough coherent thoughts to be a little shit, then you need to hike his ass in the air, grab a handful of his hair, and just plow him through the mattress. Also, to be just a little more evil about it, just imagine pounding him so good he's shaking and *this close* to cumming, and you switch it up. Instead of going hard and fast, you start moving at a snail's pace. Just making sure he can feel every inch of your cock with every slow thrust. Imagine with me if you will:

"No! No, no, no, don't stop!" Fred cried as your thrusts slowed to a maddening grind.

"What did you say?" you asked dangerously.

"'m sorry, I won't do it again. Don't stop," he begged.

"I expect an answer when I ask you question." A pathetic whine left slipped through his open mouth as his hips bucked uselessly against your own. "Repeat it."

"Aye, aye, captain," he responded miserably.

"Mmm. A bad answer and not my name," you said. Dragging out of him slowly, you took a moment to admire the way his hole clenched around your strap as though it was trying to suck it back in.

"'m sorry." The pleading apology was nice but not what you were looking for.

"What's my name, Freddie?" you asked, pressing back in inch by infuriating inch.

"'m sorry! Please, 'm sorry," he sobbed. With a growl, you dragged him flush against your chest by his hair and an arm around his middle, seating your whole cock in him in one fluid movement. His choked gasp soothed your annoyance momentarily. You loved it when he was in your lap like that, too. Knowing your strap was pressing against all the right places just enough to drive him crazy also satisfied a sadistic part of you.

"What's my name?" you pressed.

"Master," he gasped.

"Good. Now," you ground up into him harshly, "apologize."

"Was so close. 'm sorry!" he whined.

"I expect a proper apology, brat," you snarled, biting his shoulder. Fred's big hand wound around your forearm, holding it like it was a lifeline. The other reached back to grasp at your hip in a feeble attempt to make you move faster.

"Fuck, 'm sorry, master. So fuckin' sorry," he said finally. Smiling devilishly, you pressed a kiss to the bite mark.

"Well, look at that. You can be a good boy," you said. Fred keened at your words, sounding almost hopeful. He knew that if he'd done a good enough job, you'd go back to pounding him like he wanted.

"Please, master. I'll be good," he breathed, rolling his hips impatiently.

"Doubtful," you grumbled.

Using his hair, you shoved him forward again, burying his face in the pillows. You didn't give him any time to adjust to your new position. Instead, you hitched his hips up and pulled out slowly before slamming back home. Lurching forward, he let out a sound that was like nothing you'd ever heard before. A low, whining groan punctuated with sobs as you drove into him like a person unhinged. The sound resonated inside your head. Bouncing around until it filled you up until you couldn't think about anything else. Growling, you pinned him by the back of his neck.

"Who do you belong to, brat?" you growled, leaning close to his ear.

"You," he breathed.

"Louder!" you snapped, smacking his ass.

"Master! You own me! Master fuckin' owns me!" he howled.

#fred weasley x reader smut #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #peach anon #never stop sinning #it's amazing #asks

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withoneheadlight · 3 years

Note

life has been a bit crazy for me so I haven’t been around but I’m glad to see that the upside down kiss fic is circulating back around bc it lives rent free in my mind constantly and I am whORE KNEE 😩

nsfw! anon

(I hope you’ve seen well I miss u :((( )

NSFW!ANON I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU I MISS YOUUUUUU!!!!! Holy shit this is the nicest surprise!!!!!! 💖💖💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖 Wish your life were at least a bit less crazy :(. Mine's been a bit crazy too. Weird and busy. Haven't been letting me much time for fandom and i miss it so, SO FUCKING much.

And <3<3<3, haha yep! i’ve got a soft spot for that fic too bc i had so much fun writing it, and it’s even funnier on my mind idk xD. i’m so happy people likes it. Those gifs are like a harringrove inspiration charm i swear! Maybe you’ve already seen it but @warheadache added this amazing ar to it and 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉.

also!! i know it doesn’t look like it but i’ve got a couple things for you on the works and i’m closer to finish them!! at my snail pace but yk,

a few excerpts bc i want to give them to you so baaaaaadddDDDDDD:

(I'm sure you'll recognize the working titles :P)

| n s f w ahead |

| boots |

And it’s been more than three years. More than three years of holes on his body and holes on his veins and stitches and tubes and pills and pain under every scar and unsteady steps and pulling together a pile of dirty rubble. More than one of Steve, Steve, Steve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

Except―

He’s going through his old stuff, one day. Cold outside. Late January. Chill fogging the windows. Daylight pouring to the edges of the sky like red-hot steel on the other side.

Billy’s on the floor. The contents of the two plastic bags collecting dust at the bottom of his closet since he moved in here now scattered all around. Cassettes and crumpled papers and tampered books and stupid memorabilia and. His old tight jeans. His leather jackets. His light-blue denim one, with the blood-red goodbye kiss of somebody whose cheek he remembers touching, whose face he can’t remember anymore.

And Billy doesn’t hear him coming, but one moment he’s not, the next Steve’s crouching by his side, leaning against him, too lightly for it to be in need of balance.

“God, Hargrove” he huffs, picks Billy’s favorite shirt out of the pile “Am I remembering this one right?”

Billy bites in a smile. Swallows down some bitterness.

“You are”

Steve nods, mouth twisting into a grin, a brow rising. Glances down at what Billy’s holding (on to) between his hands.

“And oooh. Those boots”

Still dirty. More dark brownish than black. One of the few things he got back from the hospital. His pendant being the only one he ever put back on.

“Yeah”

“Thinking ‘bout using any of these again?” Steve gives the shirt a light shake, the dark-red fabric dragging on the wooden floor.

Last time Billy wore it, he burned hole in it. A stray ember fell from his joint, right under the left pocket. Tiny enough to pass mostly unseen but―

For a closer look, it was ruined.

Two days later, the Mind-Flyer dragged him into the basement of Brimborn Steel Works.

Billy digs his fingers into the dry leather before they can start shaking.

“I don’t―” Takes in a big gulp of air “―know. Don’t know if they’ll fit anymore” It feels like nothing.

Because, he doesn’t mean only his body. Means it all. Because he’s alivealivealive, like some kind of inevitability. Alive like a form of inertia.

Alive because that’s all he had left. Got’s left. The only thing he could. Can. Do.

But,

But

“Uhmm” Steve exhales. Looks right into his eyes and it feels like he’s looking deeper. And it’s not the first time, not the first time Billy wonders, how much he knows, and how he knows it. Wonders what he might be seeing, what his instinct might be saying for him to―lower down his voice, eat away almost every single one of the scarce millimeters keeping their mouths from touching “Maybe the boots, then” his hair tickling Billy as it falls over his forehead, the feeling of it so intimate it seems illicit “Only, the boots”.

And those words. Those words. Taste like gasoline on Billy’s mouth, make the flame almost catch. Hot. As they feel over the rabbiting pulse of his jugular. Ad there shouldn’t be any empty space left between them when Steve moves even closer, his lips brushing a path of raw tenderness over Billy’s cheek, trailing sideways, air turning flammable and unstable, unbreathable when he says, “You’d look―” Voice hoarse. Shaky. Breath warm down the curve of Billy’s neck. Fingertips burning as a branding mark over his solar plexus “Hot as fuck”

Trading a grenade for Billy’s fast-beating heart.

And then― he’s getting up. Going away. Closing the door behind him. Leaving Billy one pull away from the detonation.

And Billy.

It’s been more than year since he moved. More than a year of SteveSteveSteve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

But Billy wants it, this kind of inevitability. Not inertia. No survival. Not that something living doesn’t really feels like. He wants Steve to release that bomb he just dropped inside of his body. Left Billy unmade. Shape him back together with his own two hands.

So he gets up. Wired-up and breathless. Anticipation beading on the surface of his skin. Thinks about of all those times alive felt like something reachable. That almost-touch sensation. Static singing on his fingertips: loving arms closing around his ocean-cold skin. The rumbling of the sea caught up on the shell of his ribcage. Max's crazy laugh like a hammer to his bones. The Camaro cooking the soles of his feet, speed making his head spin through a wormhole and out into the infinite. His knuckles cracking against the skin of another, finding bone. The metallic tang of blood flooding down the back of his tongue.

Love and fire and rage and―

He takes all his clothes off. They don’t feel like they fit, either. Socks. Sweats. Hoodie. T-Shirt. Takes a deep breath when the pendant bumps against the naked skin of his chest.

Puts his boots on.

Does the only thing he’s ever known.

“Steve!” he shouts. Pulse spiking up fast. Trying to beat a way out of his body “Can you come back in here?”

Skyrocketing, when Steve shouts back.

“Going!”

And then is the door clicking open. Billy’s lungs freezing in the middle of a breath. Steve’s eyes looking almost black as they catch the shadows. Sun falling down the reality of the other side.

And in a darkness like that, it’s only them what remains. Them, and the way they are looking at each other.

And Billy feels alive. Like falling. Feet slippin’ on the razor’s edge.

"Billy" breathes out Steve. Shoulder perched on the frame. Fingers tightening around the handle "Fuck, Billy I―"

“Yeah?”

Alive. Like a form of gravity when―

Steve comes forward. To him. Careful. Careful. Footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. Lashes falling down as his eyes drift. Swallows. Comes closer and closer still.

And then.

Their chest are brushing and their hands are almost touching and it's not even an inch but Billy has to look up even with his stupid boots on and,

“You said―”

Steve breathes in. Cuts Billy’s breath off his lungs.

Between them, there’s no room for anything that’s not the way they’re not touching.

“I know what I said”

The air, sparks, sizzles, becomes the memory of a thunderstorm and. The tips of Steve’s fingers make his hairs stand on end. High voltage. Spark over the inside of his wrist. The faded blue of his veins. And Billy shivers. Feels like that second of stasis before the rupture. Static calm and then― the ocean breaks.

And then Steve says,

“I wanna see it. That fire in you” and his fingers tickle across the hidden tenderness on the inside Billy’s elbow. Nails grazing their way up to his shoulder, detouring to contour the crest of his clavicle, slide down the trough, spreading as they follow the shape of Billy’s neck, thumb fitting into the corner of his lips and “C’mon.” smiling, smiling. Eyes creasing at the sides, lashes catching the few last strings of light. Wicked and sweet and devastating “Show me who’s that Billy Hargrove everybody's been telling me so much about”

| stick | tw: object insertion |

It’s thrilling, this secret, depraved game they play. Feels like it's forbidden. Leaves a sweet, honey-thick aftertaste.

And Billy is so. So curious. Can’t stop asking Steve to tell him “How it feels babe. I want to know how good it feels. God you look like it's hitting you just right” and Steve tells him. Steve fucks himself down into whatever thing Billy is holding for him, never touching himself until he’s almost there, wanting to ride that sole sensation right up until the very end. Shivering. Shaking. Breaking a sweat. The words coming ragged out of his open mouth. “Cold” or “Weird” or “Like. Too much–ah. Too much” and “Soft, God, Billy so soft” and–

“Why don’t you try it yourself?”

And Billy its so, so curious.

Billy does.

Rails himself for Steve to watch, slicked up with lube and dripping. With a rolling pin. A cucumber. Almost a whole box of wooden colored pencils, stuffed inside his ass one by one. With “ohgodgodgod” the handle of Steve’s fucking nailed bat. Lets Steve holds whatever thing he chooses for him “C’mon, babe. C’mon. Treat it good. Swallow it as deep as you can. Take it like you would take my cock”

And life in Hawkins gets boring after the first, second, fourth, seventh yearly round. Steve takes that office work. Billy gets a permanent spot in the garage. If he gets real lucky, somebody takes him an interesting car from time to time. But sometimes Steve looks at Billy with dark, liquid eyes. Says “Ok enough”. His voice harsh. Rasped. Losing balance at the edge of what he’s able to restrain himself. Sounding as if he’s jealous of those things jamming the insides if Billy’s ass. Takes out Billy’s been writhing around. Fucks him hard. Fuck him deep. Fucks him so good there are tears in Billy’s eyes by the time he comes. Fallen apart and sobbing.

Steve’s driving. One hand on the wheel. One hand on the shift. The cool air of the night coming in shorts through the rolled-down window. On the radio, Ted Nugent’s making his guitar whine, the strings arching into the touch of his fingertips, asking for more more more, ‘Here I come again now baby. Like a dog in heat’

Steve’s long fingers flex over the knob, winter-cold white under reddened knuckles. He shifts from third to fourth with a smooth press and lets go of the clutch, and the Camaro sighs, settles. Steve makes her calm. Steve tames her. Where Billy makes her growl and kick Steve drives her like a lover, whispers to her with all his body I’m gonna fuck you so slow. We got all night, baby. Steve treats her right. Runs those fingers up and down the metallic rod of the shift and Billy gets hard. One second from zero to sixty.

His cock pulses, pulses. Fills up whole. The sudden rush of heat traveling up, up. Presses against the walls of his throat. Billy wants to feel the head of Steve’s cock against his bell. Wants Steve to make him choke on him.

Steve brakes. Clutches. Reduces. The Camaro moans, needy. Steve soothes her, caresses it with a soft brush of his thumb along the speed patter Shh, baby sshhh. Just hold a little bit longer. I promise I will let you come.

Billy feels himself twitch, spit out precum. The inside of his pants feels damp, appetizing. He lets his hips slide, rock.

The knob is real leather. Silver pattern ingrained over black. Seams carefully sew out on the surface as a touch of style.

Billy replaced it a few months ago, the old one too damaged by use. Worn out.

This one curves slightly forward.

It would hit just right.

Steve's eyes are alight, framed in the light reflected from the rearview mirror, a dramatic take out of an old Noir.

Except the brown shines full color. Alive.

Billy puts his hand over Steve’s on the knob, spreads his fingers around his.

Grips him hard.

“Hey, babe. Have you ever thought about it?”

“Mmm? About what?”

“About riding my car”

Steve huffs. Chuckles.

“I am driving your car”

“Yeah” Billy caresses the side of Steve’s hand with his thumb, a lagged reflection of his gesture. Thinks about how pretty Steve’s lips would look around that leather, mouth open wide “Don’t mean it like that”

Billy has to take a deep, shaky breath, thinking it's a miracle they ever get as far as they plan, that Steve Harrington's mere existence doesn't make him come just by looking at him.

Not all their games get to the finish line. But this, God, Billy wants this one to.

"Ah-ah" he shakes his head, smirks, keeps the stakes high "But if you hop on I'll let you eat my mouth"

“Mmmm. I don’t know”

Steve twists his lips, considering, looks like he’s willing to take his sweet time deciding, staying just like this, idly rocking on his lap, keeping Billy hooked in this scarce feeling, this almost kissing between their cocks.

And Billy––Uff. Billy it’s too revved-up, can’t take it any fucking second more.

Grabs Steve’s asscheeks. Lifts him up.

“Billy what the—ohfuck” It doesn't go in. ‘Course it doesn’t. When Billy lets Steve’s weight drop just a slight bit. It bumps. Slips. Wet and obscene. Rips a breathless thing of a sound out of his throat. But then Steve’s arms wrap around his neck. Bracing himself so Billy can take a hold of it, line himself up. And then yeah yeah. He barely has to rub the head against Steve’s slippery hole and his cock slides in. Eaaasy. All the way. Into Steve’s warmth. Tight. Tight. Tight. And–

“Ohfuck. OhfuckOh”

The air coming in from the window is cool, bristling, but it feels like nothing when Steve lets out a chocked cry. Fucks himself. Fast. Rough. Face buried into the crook of Billy’s neck. Breath blooming hot, hot. Teeth on his pulse.

“Shhhh, baby, shhh” Billy takes his face between his hands, pushes him carefully backwards. Waits ‘till Steve’s eyes slowly find focus on his, still rocking, still― “Hey. You gotta stop. You hear me?” Steve takes a deep breath, exhales long and shaky. It takes all of him to slow down, Billy knows, but he does. Thighs twitching. Cock weeping. Smearing over Billy’s belly where his t-shit has hitched up.

Billy brushes his hair back from his forehead. Tangled and damp and gorgeous.

Kisses him light and sweet.

“We’re close, baby. We’re really, really close. But you gotta stop so I can open you up real good ok?”

Steve nods, eyes glossy, lips bitten and Billy feels overwhelmed, feels like burning under the hard sun. They’re both hanging by the thinnest of threads, Billy can feel it, can see it in the blown-out dark of Steve’s eyes. They’re riding pleasure at point break, time holding its breath for them. This is his favorite part of the game. A little too much, just a little too much. ‘Till one of them loses it. ‘Till one of them melts on the other’s hands. Hard and thick.

And God, Billy has never been one not to push his luck.

He takes two fingers up to Steve’s lips, runs the tips over the tender skin inside. Thinks about how they don’t look bitten enough, swollen enough. About how he’s gonna have to fix that.

“I’m gonna put these two inside. Will you get them ready for me?” Steve’s Smile twitches up, canines showing. It’s a two-men-con. But they play as much against the other as they play together. So Steve swallows both fingers. All the way in one go. Eyes falling shut. Eats them wet and messy. Deepthroats. Rumbles. Ass clenching, pulsing around Billy’s cock. And Billy is only a short breath of self-control away from spending himself inside him like a fucking rookie.

It’s boring, small-town life, really. Except–

“Good boy,” he says, making his fingers pop out of Steve’s mouth, satisfaction tastier than honey at the mean glare it grants him. But it softens, that glare, Steve’s eyelids flutter, open-mouthed and blissed, when Billy brushes the head of his cock with his knuckles, haft teasing, half relieving, keeping Steve in the tightrope with him.

“I’m getting a bit impatient in here, Hargrove” he says, only managing to make his voice sound half annoyed about it. Bit Billy is too, impatient. So drags his fingers down, pads tracing the taut shape of Steve’s cock, his balls, and down. Presses. Softly. Rubs the stretched-out flesh of his hole. Dips just the tips. Press. Press. And–

“AhfuckBilly–Ah.Mmmmh”

It’s tight. Steve’s ass clenches around him, squeezes him in. It’s a heady feeling, having him like this, senses overrunning. He’s intoxicated. High on the painful scratch of Steve’s nails when he grabs his jaw to kiss him open-mouthed and harsh. The helpless way he chokes off a sob when Billy makes his fingers curl, rubs him good and,

“I’m ready, Billy. I’m ready. BillyBillyplease. I can’t take it anymore. Please, baby. I’m ready” he’s gasping, breathless, barely taking in the heated up air they share.

“Hey. C’mon. C’mon. Just a little more, ok?. A little more and I’ll let you swallow it all in. That knob. All the way down your ass. No space left for anything else" he licks the words all along Steve’s neck, his ear. Rubs his lips over the damp roots of his hair. Cock pushing. Fingers working. When Steve sits on the stick. Billy wants him right over the edge “Gonna cum so hard you’re gonna be begging me to let you ride her again”

yup! hope you like them! i really really REALLY want to finish them for you.

Fingers crossed I get to see you again soon my dear nsfw!anon 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

#im sending you THE BIGGEST HUG <3<3<3<3<33<#I MISSSSS YOUUUUUUUUUU #your asks never fail to light up my day #take care #and dont let that bad real life grip you too hard #i'll be around if you need me #and my ask box is always open for you #ns*w!anon💖#harringrove #long post #till i can make a cut sorry #the wip tag game!#xwips #xaskfic

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