#i will never get over the fondness that appears on his face in this video | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

confused-wanderer · 1 year

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I know we all talk about Jason finding out Dick killed the Joker from Tim or one of the other batfam members, but what if:

One day he’s searching for blackmail material on a member just for fun and knows Damian keeps a list of all of them so he backs into the files and realised the folder with the heaviest inscription to unlock is one labelled “Contingencies”.

He opens it to find every single person in their family is on there and starts surfing through them. When he sees Tim’s he freezes, mentally filing away some horrific details for checking up on him later, Jason’s list is impressive but not much he didn’t expect…still concerned how he got the evidence though.

His fingers hesitate over Batman’s, and after thinking screw it what the hell clicks on it just to realise most of them are psychological, and had to do with Jason. One video showed Bruce as Jason remembered him from his robin days. He was pacing furiously in the Manor, tugging on his pocket square which for him was a high level of distress, before he went upstairs - to Jason’s room when he stayed there - and looked in. The change was sudden, Bruce’s shoulders sagged and his face grew into one of fondness, one he’d rarely seen before.

“I cant help it Alfred.. Scarecrow’s toxin.. I KNOW it isn’t real but.. I can’t stop thinking about it. What if -“ and Jason can’t really believe his ears, that was a fucking quiver in his voice- “What if one day it comes true?” “What was your worst fear Master Bruce?”.

“Jason..” and Jason flinches. “I.. I saw him die, and I was powerless. I cant lose him Alfred. I just cant.”

The recording ends, and it takes a while for Jason to realise he can’t breathe. He sends the file to himself and laughs bitterly, remembering what the fear toxin had shown him. Lucifer. It had shown him falling from Bruce’s grace, being his greatest disappointment. “Guess we both failed each other didnt we old man?”

After what feels like forever, when he can feel his fingers stop shaking his eyes drift over to Dicks.

Damian sure does adore him, wonder what the brats got in store for him.

Most of them were things he was sure Dick could handle, until a glitched file appeared which read “for EXTREME situations only.”

When he heard Joker laugh, Jason could’ve sworn he was in the cave. “Hello there old friend! Aww why the long face?”

Dick wasn’t facing the camera, but the sheer aura of destruction radiating off of him was enough for Jason to know Joker was in danger. Judging by his outfit and well- hair- this must’ve been years ago.

“Didn’t you like my..ah.. gift? It was quite the blast I hear!”

Dicks fists clenched. His usual smile was gone, replaced by a hatred so vile it could’ve rivalled batman’s glare. It was so odd.. seeing him so pissed.

“Well that’s what happens.. when birds get hit. They never see what’s right in front of them and then BAM!”

As his laughter rang out Jason heard Dick whisper something. It was so soft, quieter than he’d ever heard him and he found himself leaning forward.

“What’s that? How long he lasted? Well I counted everytime he screamed when I broke his bones so-“

“SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!”

Jason stumbled back, nearly falling to the floor himself. Dicks voice was thundering, echoing across the cave.

What the hell had happened? Why was Dick so mad? Why wasn’t he smiling?

“You..killed him.”

And that’s when it hit Jason. Oh. This was after he’d died.

The joker was trying to say something, but Jason couldn’t hear him. All he could focus on was how Dick was behaving, how he was walking upto Joker. Jason had seen that before.

The intent to kill.

SLAM

The fight was brutal, and blood flew everywhere, mixed with the laughter and cries of the Joker while Dick yelled, YELLED so loudly he could’ve sworn the cave was shaking before the sound of a wet snap ricocheted and Dick went limp.

No.. no no no no.

He watched in horror as Dick stood up, drenched in blood and heaving. Dick had gone- no BEATEN- the joker for Jason.

But the longer he looked, the more he felt the Lazarus pit burning inside him.

The joker wasn’t moving.

Dick walked away, and in the shadows, with bloody fists and face of hatred could not see him as the Dick he knew.

“Dead.”

He looked up to hear Dick whisper to the thundering sky outside.

“I killed him Jason. The joker is dead. Rest in peace little wing.”

Jason’s feet gave out under him, and he crashed to the ground gasping for breath.

Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he had been avenged.

Never did he even think that Dick had only killed once… and only for him.

Part two of related series where Jason finds out Bruce nearly killed the Joker:

#headcanons #batfam #dick grayson angst #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd robin #jason todd angst #tim drake #red robin #batfamily headcanons #batman #batman angst #alfred penyworth #damian wayne #batman and robin

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luvj4key · 1 month

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

୨ৎ pairing: enha x female reader ୨ৎ genre: fluff ୨ৎ word count: 2.3k ୨ৎ warnings: blood, menstrual cycle ୨ৎ requested? yes

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆:

You, Heeseung, and the boys decided to plan a small get-together at your place in celebration of their recent tour. You were in charge of setting up and cleaning up so you were constantly moving around. To your defense, you just liked having a clean environment, plus you wanted the boys to have some time to themselves.

After numerous attempts from Heeseung, he finally managed to get you to sit down and hang out with him and the boys. The eight of you guys had a blast, there was laughter, meaningful conversations. It’s your average hangout with a bunch of close friends.

An hour passes and you notice a mess starting to pile up on the table. Wanting a clean environment, you decide to go and tidy up the mess. Heeseung was slightly occupied with watching Ni-ki and Jake go crazy about beating each other in a video game, he diverted his eyes over to you - a habit he tends to have whenever you’re around - a fond expression appeared on his face as he watched you be immersed in your own little world. ‘How did I get so lucky to have someone like you in my life?” he thought. He was immediately snapped out of his daze when eyes trailed down to your pants. His eyes widen as he sees the red stain on your pants and immediately dashes over to cover you.

Surprised by his sudden appearance behind you, you ask, “What? Are you okay?”

Not knowing how to tell you, he places his hands on your waist. “I don’t want you to freak out or anything babe but uh…” he whispers the next part, “There’s a stain on your pants.”

Completely ignoring Heeseung’s request on not freaking out, you do. Your eyes widen, “You’re joking, there’s no way.” you panic.

“It’s okay, I don’t think anyone saw. Let’s go get you changed, I’ll stay behind you to cover you”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆:

It’s safe to say that Jay knows everything about you. He makes sure of it. He pays attention to everything: your mood patterns, the things you like, the things you dislike, literally anything so when there’s a slight change in your behavior, he’s immediately suspicious of it.

You weren’t planning on doing much today because you knew that you were going to start your period soon but Jay insisted for you to come over and spend some time with him since his members weren’t home. Let’s just say, you can never turn down an offer to hang out with your boyfriend especially since it’s rare for you two to have some time together. So here you were, nestled in Jay’s arms watching a new movie that came out together.

Everything was going smoothly, however, Jay noticed how unusually quiet you were but decided to not ask you about it in case it was just because you were tired or something along those lines. Instead, he decided to just note it and continue to observe to see if something was actually wrong. It wasn’t until you excused yourself to go to the bathroom when everything started to come together.

Sighing, you realized that you started your period. Luckily no accidents occurred, however you’re just going to have to deal with it for the rest of the day. Collecting yourself, you return from the bathroom and settle back into Jay’s arms. Noticing how dejected you looked for the remainder of the time, Jay grew suspicious. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Mhm”

“Okay, what’s wrong?” he sat up slightly to get a better look at you.

“Nothing, I’m just not feeling so great today.”

Instantly going into mother mode, he brings his hand up to your forehead, “Are you sick? I mean, I guess you do feel a little warm. I’ll get some medicine for you-“ he said, immediately getting up but you quickly grabbed his hand to sit him back down.

“Jay, no it’s fine I’m just on my period no worries”

“So? I’m still going to get you some medicine. Lay down baby, I’ll be back”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍:

It’s usually a rare occurrence for you to wake up before Jake. Usually it’s him that wakes you up because - in his words - “it gets too lonely” when he’s the only one awake so your solution to that would be to cuddle for the remaining time you had in the morning left together. Today unfortunately wasn’t one of those days. The night before you started to experience one of your pre-period symptoms but you didn’t think too much of it since your tracker showed that you’re supposed to get your period a week after. Apparently, you were wrong and your period decided to make an early appearance.

You woke up to a cramping sensation in your lower abdomen and immediately knew what was going on. You grimaced, hoping that the universe was going to be nice to you and not stain anything. You turned your head to the side and saw that Jake was peacefully sleeping, showing no signs of movement. Gently moving his arm from your waist, you slowly sat up and shifted backwards and to your horror, revealing the small stain on your bedsheets. “Shit” you muttered under your breath. You felt Jake stir beside you, you held your breath hoping that you didn’t wake him.

“Baby?” he called out softly, “What’s wrong?” he sat up and rubbed the tired out of his eyes. Glancing over at you and where you were looking, he immediately understood what was happening.

Thinking of his silence as a sign of anger and disgust, you panicked and were quick to say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I-I’ll go-“

“Hey, no don’t apologize love, it’s not your fault,” he reassured, getting out of bed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up first then we’ll just change the sheets no big deal.”

Still feeling embarrassed you whispered, “I’m sorry Jake, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Walking up to you, he shushed you and pulled you into his embrace, “Stop apologizing, it happens. You’re okay, I’ll take care of you.” he said gently, pressing a kiss onto the crown of your hair.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍:

Today was the day you and Sunghoon had to go out and run some errands. You thought it was going to be a quick little trip since you didn’t need to buy much so you didn’t think to bring your bag - which carried all your necessities. You only brought your wallet which honestly was a normal thing for you.

All throughout the trip, you felt a small cramping and stomach turning sensation but you ignored it because you figured that you would be leaving soon. It didn’t come to mind that you were starting your period that day. The two of you made it through a couple of stores already and are at the final stop. You ventured a little further ahead of Sunghoon to grab a few items you needed while he strayed behind, distracted by the products he came across. Spotting an item that’s on a higher shelf, you call out, “Hoon, can you help grab this for me please?”

“Of course,” he said, walking over. Coming up from behind you, he places a hand on your waist, “Which one is it?” he asked, to which you pointed at what the item was. He reached up and grabbed it with no problem and handed it to you. You smiled at him in gratitude and continued with finding the next item. As you walked away, Sunghoon noticed something on the back of your pants. Thinking about it for a moment and finally realizing what it was, he took off his jacket and quickly walked up to you. You stopped as you felt him tie his jacket around your waist.

You tilted your head in confusion, “Why?”

He shook his head, “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it love. I can tell you later in the car”

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎:

Today had to be one of your worst days out of your cycle. The cramps were just hitting you from left and right and it was draining all the energy out of you. However, that didn’t stop you from wanting to make dinner for your boyfriend. You loved cooking for Sunoo, it was a way to show him how much you love and care about him so whenever he says that he’s hungry, you’re quick to make him something even if you’re not feeling the greatest. You’re always willing to put him first.

You were in the middle of cooking a meal for Sunoo until suddenly you were hit with another wave of cramps. It was almost unbearable, it made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Putting down the spoon, you leaned over the counter in hopes that it would help relieve the pain.

Sunoo made his way into the kitchen to check on you because he was able to smell the delicious aroma of food but when he came in and saw you doubled over in pain, his stomach dropped. Running over to you, he asked worriedly, “Y/N? Are you in pain? Do you need me to call the ambulance?”

“No no Sunoo, I’m okay. I’m just dealing with some bad cramps right now” you reassured him.

“Cramps? Then why are you over here in the kitchen? You should be resting” he said, going over to the stove to turn it off.

He grabbed your wrist and led you to your room, ignoring your groans saying that you’re fine. “I can always make my own dinner Y/N, you need to rest.”

Finally reaching your bedroom, Sunoo urges you to climb into bed and tucks you in. “See? That wasn’t so hard was it? I’m going to the store to grab some snacks for us, yeah? I’ll be back” he said, kissing the top of your head.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍:

You woke up feeling absolutely gross and icky. You were in no condition of leaving your house nor did you want your boyfriend to see you in such condition. You were supposed to meet up with Jungwon today to hang out but to your disappointment, you really didn’t feel good. You didn’t want to risk taking the fun out of the hang out if you did decide to push through the gross feeling. Sighing, you reached over to grab your phone to send a message to Jungwon asking if you can reschedule your date because you weren’t feeling well.

Jungwon felt his phone vibrate next to him and smiled when he saw that it was a message from you. However, his smile fell once he read that you weren’t feeling well. It wasn’t like you to cancel so suddenly but then again, emergencies happen. That still doesn’t stop him from worrying about you. Wanting to see for himself, he sets off to your house.

Hearing a knock at your front door, you push through the sick feeling in your stomach to go open it. Behind the door revealed your boyfriend holding a bouquet of flowers as well as a box of chocolate. “Jungwon? What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay? You said you weren’t feeling well.” he said worriedly and immediately pulled you into a hug.

“Oh Wonnie, it’s because I’m on my period. It’s making me feel a little sick so I had to cancel our plans,” you frowned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay but since you’re on your period, we can’t let these chocolates go to waste.”

You smiled, “You really didn’t have to get me all this, Jungwon”

“Why not? My girlfriend deserves something that would make her feel better.”

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈:

Ni-ki wasn’t nosy - well most of the time he tries not to. He didn’t mean to glance at your phone when it vibrated. He just so happened to be near it when it went off. Looking at the notification for a second, his eyes landed on its source, the period tracker. The notification was saying how you may be experiencing a certain symptom today. Confused, Ni-ki took a second to try and figure out what this meant. Are you on your period already or will you be starting it soon? He might as well just ask you when you come back right? There’s no harm in that…right?

You come back into the living room with a couple of snacks and quickly settle back onto the couch next to your boyfriend. You noticed how quiet he got, it seemed like he was hesitating to say something. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

After a second of silence, he asks, “Are you on your period?”

You were taken aback by his sudden question, “What?” you said, raising an eyebrow. You don’t know if you should be offended or not.

“I saw a notification from your period tracker so I was wondering if you were on it.”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed, “Yeah I am…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?! I could’ve gone and bought stuff for you” he groaned. This was not how you imagined him to react.

At a loss for words you stammered, “I didn’t think to tell you because it’s not that important?”

“But it’s the first time you ever had your period with me, I wanna treat you.” he whined.

“There’s really no need for that,” you let out a laugh “What’s up with you? You’re rarely ever like this.”

“Wow. You’re really doubting my sincerity? Sorry for being an awesome, handsome, and caring boyfriend.”

#luvj4key's collection💌#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #heeseung imagines #jay imagines #jake sim imagines #sunghoon imagines #sunoo imagines #jungwon imagines #ni-ki imagines

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teyamsatan · 11 months

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Hii idk if you take requests rn but if you do can you please write something where you are showing Neteyam music videos from earth on a tv in the lab and when your celebrity crush appeared you said « he so hot » forgetting that Neteyam was there and he fuck us bc he is jealous (like he didn’t know what your type in human were so he is possessive) 😩😩😩

IS IT TIME FOR JEALOUS NETEYAM PART 2? I THINK IT IS BESTIES!

this got away from me, the horny is taking me over once more (she says on a daily basis) also it's 12am and i'm too tired to proofread so if you see any mistakes, pretend to be shocked when they disappear tomorrow morning and don't judge me too harshly okkk?? xxx

i hope you enjoy besties x smooches

wc: 2k words

warnings: aged-up!neteyam, female human!reader, jealousy trope, smut (fingering, edging), strong language, cursing, kinda mean!neteyam, praise kink, small degradation kink, i guess that's all light day for me

na'vi compendium: tewng - loincloth, tiyawn - love

As a human living on Pandora, your life was never boring. Anything that the Na’vi would ever find mundane or ordinary, anything that humans on Earth might think is just another thing in a vast array of distractions always present in their day to day lives, to you, it was all new. Everything was just another opportunity to learn and grow, to experience life in a way that you weren’t quite made for, but that was full of lessons, surprises, full of excitement and adventure, full of… entertainment.

That's all it was. A... lesson. It was important for you to understand where you came from, or more accurately, where your parents came from, and that included looking at videos of what they considered art. And boy, was it art, alright!

A video that you've now memorised by heart was playing in one of the recreation rooms, because seeing it on a small screen just wasn't quite enough. The beautiful music video featured incredible vistas of Earth like you've never quite seen it before, a choreography that highlighted just how fluid and dynamic humans could actually be when trying, a symphony of voices blending together beautifully, lyrics that melted your heart, and the most beautiful human men you have ever laid your eyes on, and you were almost upset that that what was what was missing from Pandora, and instead was all you got was old scientists who even at the best of times were not quite the same... sight.

It pained Neteyam to admit that when you asked him to come and hang around the labs, something he didn't like doing in the best of circumstances (but always did because of you), he definitely didn't expect this. He didn't quite understand the feelings plaguing him, feelings that never tried him before, as he watched your face, completely entranced and mesmerised, looking at the big screen where human men were singing and dancing in a way he found silly, but to his massive shock - you didn't. You and Neteyam shared an opinion on most things, have done since you were but children, growing up together in this world that scared you both, but that you braved together. So why was it now that this was changed this little fact that he was so fond of, that he held on for dear life, that he cherished with everything he had?

Is this what he was feeling? Sadness? No... it didn't quite feel like sadness. The twitching in his eye and the way his hands balled up in a tight fist is not what he associated with feeling down. Anger? Neteyam didn't get angry too often, but the times he did, it felt hot, like burning embers pushed down his throat. So not quite anger, either. It felt... bitter, like a poisoned fruit. His stomach tightened at the way you were almost drooling over these men that you didn't know, that were just like you, and nothing like Neteyam. Is this what you wanted? Is that who you craved? A human, someone whose hands fit in yours perfectly and whose body was made to hold your own without towering over you?

Neteyam felt the ugly feeling surge through his veins until it was like iced-water replaced all his blood, and he suddenly recognised the feeling from a distant memory of the past, one he shared with his dad.

"Jealousy, son, is like... a wave, that comes and goes, and can ripple over your feet or can drown you in sorrow, and anger and pain. It's watching someone get something you want, it's feeling a precious thing slip through your fingers, no matter how hard you try to hold on to it. It's cold and powerful, it's the ugliest of emotions, and it's inevitable. Just don't let it consume you."

"Hey! I was watching that!" You screamed in Neteyam's direction in an attempt to understand what just happened, why he took the remote away from you and turned off the projector, leaving you a confused and dazed mess. Your already struggling mind got even more scrambled, as your friend placed a large hand on your chest, pushing you to the ground and getting on top of you, hovering until your faces were so close, they were almost touching, until his breath was warm and musky and deepening the quiet, steady haze overtaking you. Your eyes widened taking him in, flared nose and deep frown marring his beautiful face, but nothing held a candle to his own eyes, yellow orbs of molten gold, so precious and unique to you, so, so beautiful and right now, almost swallowed by his black irises that were more dilated that you've ever seen them before.

"Neteyam... what are you doing?"

"Why am I here, huh? Why did you ask me to come, so I can watch you drool over human men? So I can see how much you want them?"

"What are you talk-"

His words confounded you, almost as much as his tone did. He sounded... jealous. He couldn't be. Right? You and Neteyam were just friends... just friends. Sure, you've shared a few drunken kissess and flirty comments throughout your life, and you've found yourself catching him looking at you in a way that indicated something... more, but he was Neteyam. Neteyam, the prince of the Omaticaya. Neteyam, the future Olo'eyktan. Neteyam, the most intelligent, caring, kind, compassionate, beautiful, sexy man you've ever seen... and a Na'vi. He had a line of women at his beck and call, so in time, you've come to terms with the fact he would never look at you, merely a measly human, and why should he? There was so much separating you, so much you'd never be able to overcome. And yet still, here he was, eyeing you like he hungered for you, like he ached for you, and your core throbbed at the view, a soft moan barely contained as you felt his twitching cock brush against your thigh.

"Is this what you want, what you crave, friend? All this fucking time, I thought there was a chance you might want me, the way I want you, the way I need you. And turns out I never stood a fucking chance, huh?"

"Neteyam, no, I -"

"What, what do you have to say for yourself?"

His hand was tracing your body softly, inching from your neck and collarbone, down your chest and waist, ghosting over your hips, until he found your shorts, clinging to your body in a way that drove him crazy, that let little to the imagination, that made him wants to explore every inch of you with his fingers, and his tongue.

"Is this for them?" when his hand slipped in between your thighs, feeling the wet patch that formed there in the short time he was on top of you, you pushed them instinctively together, trapping his fingers as they started to move, the moan unable to remain trapped inside of you anymore. The shake of your head was so aggressive it gave you whiplash, but you wanted him to know, needed him to know that it was him, only him, always him.

"No, Netey-, fuck! No, it's for you!"

The growl that escaped him made your heart still in your chest, the raw, powerful emotion something you have never seen in Neteyam, who was always a calming, tame presence in your life. It took him no time at all to remove the shorts that he's dreamt of seeing around your ankles for so long, a reality that he would cherish later, once his mind was no longer poisoned by the bitter hold of jealousy.

"You're lying. I saw the way you're watching them, I saw the look in your eyes. You just want a little human man your own size, huh?"

He takes a second, just a second to admire your body, that he's seen in all his filthiest, most beautiful dreams as it welcomed him, spread for him, bent for him, arched for him, but nothing, not even the absolute best of them, compared to the sight that would be forever tattooed in his brain from this point on. Your disheveled face, parted lips and blushing cheeks, messy hair as you were sprawled on the floor, looking at him with blown up pupils through your long lashes, your chest heaving up and down, nipples poking through your tank top... it all drove him fucking crazy. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you, long and hard, and show you that you deserved better than a human, that he can make you come in ways you haven't even imagined before.

"I'm not lying, Neteyam. I never thought you'd ever want me, so I moved on. But I need you, I want you, please. Only you. Only you, please."

His cock twitched and hardened even more at your words, more than he ever thought was fucking possible, and it hurt, the strain caused by his tightened tewng, the desire to fill you up more overwhelming by the second.

"Is that so, baby girl? You want me to fuck you?" his hand pushes your lace panties to the side, smirking at how drenched they were, and his breath hitches in his throat at the way your swollen folds glistened with slick, at the way your smell inundated his senses and pushed him to a primal state, in which nothing else in this world existed but you, and the desire to fill you up with him cum and watch as it dripped out of your small, perfect cunt.

"Yes! Yes, please!"

"Have you been good enough to deserve to be fucked, pretty girl? Is this what you think good girls do? Acting like a little slut, salivating over men that could never satisfy you?"

You whimper as his pushes two fingers in you, curling them so they drag against the spongy part in your core in a way that makes you squirm under him. The stretch is just enough to feel pressure building in you, not enough to reach the height in needed to be released, and you start grinding, fucking yourself on his fingers, hoping to get yourself there, hoping to reach the orgasm you needed more desperately with every passing second. Your actions anger him, as he pulls his fingers out swiftly and straddles you once more, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes that felt like no light could escape from.

"Answer me."

"I-I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"That's right, baby girl. And why is that?"

"Because I'm yours. I'm all yours."

"Fuck, that's right, baby. You're mine. All fucking mine."

"Open your mouth for me." You do as you're told, and watch as he brings his fingers to your lips and pushes past them, until your mouth is coated in your slick, and you close your lips around them, swirling your tongue on and in between them, until you gather every last drop. He groans a wild, erotic groan, feeling the way your clean yourself off of him dutifully, and he lets his mind fantasise about the day you'll be chocking on his cock, your beautiful eyes drowned in tears as the girth becomes too much to handle, drops falling down your face as you try to take more of him, your tongue flat against him as he thrusts in and out of your mouth, as he comes down your throat. He slowly removes his fingers, even as you cling on, and they come out with a pop, and you smile at the sound, teeth finding your bottom lip as they sink into it, trying to suppress the smirk threatening to form on your lips.

"Such a filthy girl. Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Gonna show you why I'm the only one for you."

"You took my fingers so well, tiyawn. Now let's see how well you take my cock."

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @yagirlheree

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lace-coffin · 13 days

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Hi im that person that asked for the stufed toy thing and oh my god i loved it so much i loved everything and onece your requests are open sorry im asking while they are shut i had this sudden idea for a request sorry😭😭 ive also kinda got 2 ideas soooo sorry😅

But like a reader that is obsessed with drawing and loved to draw cute and sweet drawings to give to asa to do with their hyper fixation or every time they are with him they start ranting to him about it or them i dont know but he would be so educated on their hyper fixation unless its bugs then he would already know everything haha

Or idea 2

The reader likes to lick things randomly for no particular reason they just like to do it or they love physical touch and cant get enough of it always cuddling with asa at night as close as they can and just imagine them cuddling and they just lick him then he just gets confused that would be so funny to imagine😭😭

Or the reader for the same type of thing as the plushie one but instead music to calm them down and they would have like a tiny crying fit for their headphones bc i have had alot of meltdowns over not having my headphones its crazy i love your writing so much hope u have a good day❤️

Asa Emory x Autistic!Gn!Reader with a new hyperfixation

Requests are open!

Hi I hope you like this! I totally crammed my last two fixations into this < 3

Call Asa old but he wasn’t exactly up to date on video games. He defiantly was now at least, not that he had much choice. You were always flipping between interests, intensely talking and interacting with one topic for weeks or months at a time and then switching to another that catches your interest. It’s been Sonic The Hedgehog for atleast 3 weeks now.

He didn’t exactly picture his desk to be filled with pictures of anthropomorphic hedgehogs but here he is, he kinda signed up for this when he stuffed you into the trunk, knowingly or not. As long as you’re happy then he’s happy, even if he thinks you’re spending a little too much time on that GameCube you begged him to bring to hotel..

A few weeks pass and it’s now the Saw franchise. Victims being “tested” in disgusting gory traps by a man that fancies himself to be god? This is more up to his speed..pun unintended.

A series of excited knocks sound from the door of your masters workroom. Stretching his taught shoulders and neck he takes inventory of his aching muscles, he supposes he can take a break to spend some time with his puppy. Slumping back in the chair and swinging it to face to door Asa calls you in. “Enter”

Keeping your eyes pinned to the floor until given further permission you enter the room, shuffling over to drop to your knees in front of your owner, waiting for the order. The currently unmasked man drinks in your appearance, oversized jumper falling to sit on your neatly pressed together thighs and the collar he places on you every morning slightly twisted, the tag not where it should be.

“Eyes up pet” he says firmly, snapping his fingers to emphasise the point. Jumping a little at the suddenness you snap your eyes up to meet a fond look on master’s face, you relax a little, letting out a sigh.

Shuffling to prop his chin up with his fist in interest, Asa continues.

“What can I do for you pet?”

Visibly perking up and practically vibrating on the wooden floor you push the paper into Asa’s face, defiantly too close, there’s no way he can actually see it like that. Realising this you settle to put it in his lap and stare back at him hopefully.

“I drew more pictures! I wanted you to see..” you reply a little shy, suddenly realising how loud and excitable you had been, insecurity creeping in. Asa recognises you shrinking in on yourself and tuts. “Can I see, cricket?” He adds softly, prompting you to show him what you’ve been working on, he never wants you to feel ashamed about you’re passions even if you’ve been taught in the past to ‘tone it down’

Asa wants all of you, he accepted that from the moment he hoisted you into the box, to the moments when he firmly settles the collar around your throat every morning.

Soft smile settling onto your face you hand over the paper, not ignoring the way your knuckles brush against your masters during the exchange.

You wait with baited breath as he looks the paper over, you know he would never say anything demeaning about your art but you can’t help feel a little anxiety when letting someone in on something special to you. Todays drawing is a rough sketch of your for a saw trap, it’s grisly and frankly disgusting, you don’t envy anyone that would end up strapped down and desperate on the other end of it. Obviously you have no need for a contraption like that, but it’s only an (admittedly) sick fantasy.

After flicking through the diagrams and reading the notes as best he can (it’s not your fault he can’t read you’re handwriting well 🙄) a strange look crosses his face..it’s almost like you can see the cogs working in his brain. this could either be fantastic or a disaster, Asa isn’t one to do things half assed, it’s always all or nothing.

“Can I use this?” The silence is suddenly broken, his sclera eyes raising to meet your own, not any less eerie than when hidden behind his mask.

A strange feeling begins to pool in your stomach, should you feel exited? Proud that he wants to use your plans? Or disgusted? Sick to your stomach that the plans you never envisioned actually coming to fruition will be used to torture some poor individual? Unsure how to feel or respond you stare back at him, lips slightly parted as if trying to muster something up.

“These are wonderful cricket, they may need a little tinkering to make them functional but regardless this design is…fascinating.” A sickly sweet smile sits on your masters lips as he hands the paper back to you, ruffling your hair and placing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head.

Stunned and with a pit in your stomach you nod dumbly, leaning into the affection and practically purring. The idea that you’ve just essentially sentenced someone to their painful and unethical demise is soul crushing…but also a little thrilling? Has your owner really rubbed off on you this much? It’s not like you don’t know what he does day in and day out but it’s never been this..personal.

Asa slaps his knees (like the old man he is) and rolls back over to the desk, pushing away his current projects and random hardware to make room for your (his) new trap.

“Can you bring me the paper please, doll?. I would like to get started as soon as possible.”

Shaking off the ever building dread you pull yourself up, a little unsteady due to the burning in your thighs from sitting in one position so long. Placing the paper on his desk you stare back at him, waiting for further instruction. you’re not sure when he ended up ingraining that response into your mind but at this point it’s not worth questioning, it’s not hard to see that the pair of you are living in your own little world outside of normal society by now.

“You’re welcome to either sit by me as I work and give input considering it’s you’re design or you may sit on your bed and wait for me to finish”

You glance over at the cushy pet bed across the room from Asa’s desk…a lay down does sound ideal right now, maybe a nap will help clear your head? Or swallow the guilt.

“I’m gonna lay down sir, maybe nap a little, promise I won’t snore and distract you” you tease, giggling and feeling a little better in yourself.

Asa huffs out a chuckle at your joke. “I’ll be sure you don’t little bug.” He says, smiling gently at you. You turn to leave before being stopped in your tracks.

“One more thing, pet”

Cool gloved hands slide around your neck making you shiver at the contact, the small misplaced silver tag is slid back into its original place, proudly stating your name and owner on the front like a brand.

“There we go, much better”

Blushing a little you thank your owner and wonder off to the dog bed, curling up and lazily watching him work from afar.

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #writing #asa emory #asa emory x reader #my writing #the collection #slasher fucker #slasher hcs #slasher horror #horror fan #horror

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Text

Steve Harrington x WednesdayAddams!Reader [1.2K]

Steve knew you were waiting outside ‘cause a group of kids came scampering into the store, eyes wide and whispering about the witchy girl in the parking lot.

And you knew to wander into Family Video when Steve had coaxed the last of the customers out, the neon sign above the door flickering off.

“Hey, buttercup,” Steve grinned, ignoring the way you narrowed your eyes at him, sulking past the open door he held for you. “Been waitin’ long?”

Steve locked the door behind you, key missing the chamber once, twice, because he was too busy watching you, the way your little black skirt moved, the high socks the same colour, pulled up above your knees. You hopped a little, shuffling yourself onto the desk, pushing away the brightly coloured candy jars as if they offended you.

And perhaps they did, Steve thought.

“Not really,” you said. “I had to pick up some things from town anyway.”

You said it to make him stop looking at you like that, all bright eyed and fond. But maybe you’d been hanging out with the boy too much, ‘cause he could tell you were lying. Maybe it was the way you dropped your gaze to the floor, or the way you kicked your boots back and forth.

Maybe he just knew you better than you thought.

But still, he played a long, if only to tease a little. “Oh yeah?” He asked, moving behind the desk to stack up the returned tapes. “”What’d you get?”

You stared at him blankly and he knew to watch the corner of your mouth, the right side, to see if he could spot the way it could sometimes lift and twitch a little, like you were hiding your smile from him.

“Things,” you repeated.

There it was.

Steve smiled wider, too far gone on you to be affected by the way you scowled almost all of the time, face resting in a downturned pout that kept most people at bay. But Steve told you that you were ridiculously pretty and for the first time you could ever recount, your heart had stumbled and crashed against your rib cage.

It was an awful thing, this having a crush. And Nancy Wheeler had bumped into you in the library parking lot and for whatever reason, had asked if you and Steve were dating.

You had been a little speechless, not one to usually engage in whatever after school gossip that conversation was supposed to be, so you’d stared at her blankly and walked away, wondering how far you needed to go before she couldn’t tell that you were panicking.

You didn’t panic. Ever. In fact, you had very strict rules to not show much outward emotion at all and gushing over a boy in a public space was not on your to do list.

But then again, neither had Steve Harrington.

And anyway, you hadn’t even kissed him. Much less anything else. But maybe Steve knew that, because he never tried to push you, or touch you too much, always a little wary before brushing his hand over your waist, your shoulder, tangling his hand with yours. And maybe he sometimes felt you tense up, a little stiff, wide eyed and staring.

‘Cause when he did, he’d lean back just a little and ask if what he was doing was okay. You always nodded, keen to feel his touch, no matter how casual it appeared to be to him, completely confident that you were hiding the fact that your ribs were crushing your heart every time he linked his fingers with your own.

But Steve seemed to be finding his way with you as you did with him, completely enamoured by your aversion to colour, always complimenting each of your outfits, all black, all the time. And when you once overheard his friend Robin say that you were ‘a little terrifying,’ the boy had sighed a little dreamily and replied, ‘I know, isn’t she amazing?’

He liked to tease until your scowl broke, just for a second, maybe two if he was lucky. He liked to lean in a little too close and watch your eyes flutter, to listen for the hitch in your breath that told him you liked him as much as he did you.

And the best part of it all? He was the only one you seemed to allow that close. It made Steve feel all kinds of special, a little smug when he invited you to a roller rink night with his friends and you actually showed up.

(Still dressed in black but you spent the night by his side and Steve swore you flushed for him under the neon lights. You denied it to this day.)

“So what d’you wanna do tonight?” He asked, moving around your dangling legs, picking up paperwork and the uncapped pens that Robin had chewed the ends of. “I’ll let you steal a movie or two, if you want.”

“Steal?” Your voice was silky and full of faux disappointment. “Steven, you’re a terrible influence.”

Steven. He wasn’t sure why you liked to call him that, but he liked the way it rolled off your tongue, sounding like you were always ready to tell him off.

It was kinda hot.

He scoffed, moving back around the desk to stand in front of you, hands itching to lay themselves across your bare thighs, that lovely stripe of skin between your knee highs and your skirt.

He smirked instead, hair falling into his eyes ‘cause he was too lazy to push it back. “Says the girl roaming around town lookin’ like the grim reaper's daughter.”

God, he really knew how to try and make you smile, didn’t he?

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Harrington,” you told him curtly but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working.

He saw right through you, eyes full of mirth, leaning in close until his hands found the bare on your legs and he stood between your knees. A new place to touch, you noted with interest and your heart kicked up, agreeing.

“Flattery will get me everywhere,” Steve grinned. “I know you like me, I can tell.”

“Is it the way I blush and fall at your feet?” You deadpanned, lashes lowered so he couldn’t see the tease in your gaze. You sounded awfully brutal, your voice flat, but the boy knew better.

And plus, you hadn’t pushed him away. In fact, one chunky boot was pressed to the outside of his thigh, a barely there touch but Steve felt it as if it burned.

“Somethin’ like that,” Steve murmured and he hoped and wished and prayed for you to lift your chin for him, to meet his gaze and let him see you.

You did, like some kind of magic.

Glittering eyes, lined with black, smokey and smudged. Trained on him like you were trying to figure out how he worked.

“You look really pretty today,” Steve told you.

You blinked. Swallowed and kept your eyes on his, bold and brave and thinking.

Fight? Flight? The pocketknife he knew you carried pressed to his throat?

And then:

“Thanks.” It was the softest whisper, even softer than the way your fingers reached out to pluck at the cotton of his shirt. You held on. “You do too.”

Steve was a perfect picture, a piece of art, happiness and joy and smiles. You found that you didn’t hate it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x wednesday!reader

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sumiez · 2 years

Note

so.. hear me out.. you know how kurt says he’s “all about love” on his stream? how about reader is almost as unhinged as he is, showing up to every stream and viewing every video. they understand and worship the lesson. now that he’s all about love reader is too and tries to get him to love them back

- n.e

paparazzi | kurt kunkle

warnings: typical spree stuff, obsessions, hit and runs, makeout sessions

a/n: first kurt request.. i hope i did him justice!! love the idea btw i love when readers are just as cuckoo as him

to call yourself obsessed with kurtsworld96 is a grave understatement. you weren't sure exactly how you discovered such an obscure influencer, it was likely youtube's algorithm being generous, but it was one of the best things to ever happen to you.

every video of his would receive a like from you. every stream would result in you two chatting about anything and everything before it inevitably ends with his mom calling him down for dinner. but that was the extent of your relationship—a fan and content creator.

you're enamoured with the idea of becoming his number one fan, his ride or die, his most loyal follower. every time he greets you on stream your heart soars.

once he began the lesson, however, you became determined to meet him. a real, genuine meeting, and you were going to win him over for good. you worship the lesson, it's not staged prank content like his friend bobby, it's real. it's gritty. and, in your opinion, incredibly attractive.

who cares about the people you left behind to travel all the way to outside LA. kurt is all that matters in your lovesick state.

opening the gogo app, you frantically search for kurt's description. according to his stream, he should be searching for unlucky victims right about now, despite spree being suspended.

you're about to grow frustrated until you see your saviour's profile appear. you couldn't possibly be happier.

immediately requesting a ride, you fish out your handcrafted, shoddily made kurtsworld hat and drop it onto the top of your head. you cannot wait to see the look on his face when he catches you adorning it.

after a few minutes of listening to him ramble to the camera about how he's surprised no passengers have recognized him, you hear him announce that he thinks he has his eyes on the prize—you.

you enter the stolen vehicle with a skip in your step, except this time you find comfort in the passenger seat.

"whoa whoa w—hey, wait, is that a..?" he stammers out, initially apprehensive at your choice of seating but you see him ease up once he notices your headwear.

"yes, kurt, i'm literally your biggest fan," you answer breathlessly, showing off your hat to the camera. "i loved watching you kill all those jerks, but now that you're all about love it's even better, you know? i've been watch—"

you're interrupted by kurt laughing out of pure glee. he's never felt this loved before. "holy shit you guys, we actually ... we have a real fan in the house," he trips over his own words out of unfiltered excitement. he made it. fuck his other tens of thousands of viewers, this person, this angel, is all that matters.

the two of you spend what feels like an eternity chatting, just like old times.

"what's your favourite video i've made?" he asks, and if your vision isn't deceiving you, he's blushing. hard.

"gotta be your horror movie reviews. i liked you before the lesson too. but your water bottle tutorial was really useful too, i know a few people who really need to drink one." you reply instantly, as if you planned out the whole conversation.

in truth, you did rehearse your answers to certain questions, you're infatuated with your plan to impress kurt and win him over. some may call you unhinged, but you're the kind of person who'd do anything for love.

the chat isn't too fond of your friendly behaviour with each other. they're begging for something gory to happen, and honestly, a death at kurt's hand isn't something you'd hate that much.

he listens for their pleas to start driving and places his hands on the wheel. "you want to go to the...construction site, right...?" he asks with a raised brow.

"yeah! i loved the gummy bear part of the stream, i'd love to check the place out myself." a smile graces his features in response to your words. he's still shocked that someone actually likes his content enough to spend time with him.

as you drive down the bumpy road, he pipes up. "so, like, what's your handle? i'll follow you back,"

"we've been mutuals for years, kurt."

"wait, you're—" he repeats your username, the one person other than bobby who continuously tunes into his content. "damn. that's so cool. it was always...neat seeing you pop in,"

you perk up as your face grows warm, "you really think so? it means a lot."

"of... of course i think so. i couldn't have done it without... well, you..."

as he steers, you embrace the boldness kurt gives you and you peck him on the cheek. the skin is flushed beneath your lips, and he nearly crashes at the contact.

"i... oh god, you just.. i really... i really want to.."

"look! some dumbass is crossing the street! hit them, hit them!" you jump out of your seat and point towards a middle aged man, and kurt speeds up.

he's so flustered that he's still registering the kiss, but he complies, hitting the pedestrian with a bone—chilling thump.

his viewers are growing every second, the chat congratulating him for getting some action, while others toss insults at the life you two just ended.

"our first kill," you say as you two lock eyes and he has the giddiest grin on his face.

finally reaching your destination, he opens the driver side door and does a loop around the car to open yours. such a gentleman.

with his clammy hand in yours, you step out.

"sooo, this is the spot where i ran that douchebag over," he points around the area, shuffling his feet. "i can... show you the junkyard with the dogs too, if you want."

you nod enthusiastically, "i'd love to see that."

"great, great. uhh.." as he thinks of what to say next, you approach him. draping your arms around his neck, you press a kiss to his chapped lips. he can't help but groan at your touch, never having kissed anybody like this before.

he instinctively pulls you off.

"i... that was..."

"nice?"

"yeah. nice. do you wanna take this to my...back to my car, or something?" nodding again at his words, you reach for his hand again and stroll to the vehicle with him.

you crawl inside and kurt immediately gets comfortable on top of you, shoving his face into yours. you can tell he's inexperienced when it comes to kissing, but you return the touches, fingers finding refuge in his tufts of hair. his kisses are sloppy but passionate, his longing to be loved presenting itself in each action.

"i've always wanted to..." he mutters as he pulls away for air. "...kiss someone like that. i'm glad it was a fan and not some jerk at one of bobby's parties,"

your heart hammers in your chest as you respond with another breathless kiss. you're actually kissing your idol, and his entire stream is watching. kinda forgot about that.

without warning, a police car skids into the lot, and you and kurt exchange glances of horror.

he rushes to the driver's seat, yelling at you to put on a seatbelt as he preps for blastoff.

he peels out of the area, driving to god knows where.

"well, my little... partner in crime... do you wanna finish what we started somewhere else?"

"of course."

#kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle imagine

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awakenthemusic · 3 months

Text

Peace (A Soft Epilogue)

"Dean," A voice whispers as a warm hand shakes Dean gently by the shoulder.

Dean rises back to consciousness slowly, a recently-acquired skill (a luxury).

Sam's softly-smiling face appears before his bleary eyes. A slow blink brings him into better focus, the laughter lines around Sam’s eyes that are finally starting to overtake the worry wrinkles on his forehead come back into sharp relief. "We're gonna head out," He murmurs.

A glance over his shoulder. Eileen stands by the door, features softened by distance, but ready smile easily visible as she waves and holds up a hand that means 'I love you.'

Dean sends the message back left-handed (he's been practicing with both).

To Sam, he whispers, "You sure you don't wanna crash here? It's dangerous for old folks to drive after dark."

Sam shoots him an annoyed (and fond) look as he tries to hold back a grin. "I'm not the one who couldn't stay awake for my own movie marathon, Jerk."

"Hey," Dean protests (softly). "I ain't old, I'm just in a food coma, Bitch."

Sam stops holding back his grin. "Whatever you say, old timer." He easily dodges Dean's halfhearted swipe, then leans back in to squeeze Dean's shoulder. "Love you."

"Yeah, love you too," Dean huffs, mock-annoyed still (the words come out so easily now, turns out—like signing—they flow better with practice). "Now get out of here."

Sam chuckles as he heads for the door, knowing to lock it behind him as he goes (he and Eileen have keys).

Dean settles back against the warm wall of muscle at his back and squeezes the hand interlaced with his, never more glad that they'd shelled out for the ridiculously large sectional that allows them room to lie sandwiched together (and room for visiting family).

A bean bag chair stands alone against the far wall and Dean feels a bittersweet pang.

Cas stirs and squeezes the arm currently around Dean's waist (which has finally been allowed to grow softer and is currently stuffed full of good food and extra servings of pie). "You alright?" His voice is sleep-rough but somehow lighter than it's been in years.

"Yeah," Dean whispers back, unwilling to break this moment.

"Jack?" Powers or not, Cas has always been able to read Dean's mind.

Dean nods with a sigh.

Another squeeze. "I miss him too." Easy words breathed against the back of Dean's neck, like there could be no other answer, like a lifetime full of 'toughen up' and 'no one cares you're hurting' had been the exception, not the rule.

"He seemed happy, though." Dean thinks how excited Jack was, bouncing excitedly on the video call this afternoon, telling them about his new friends and how he'd been settling back into his dorm after the winter break.

Cas nods. "He'll be home soon, spring is just around the corner."

Dean nods back and nearly drifts off again. His phone pings with a notification at almost the same moment Cas' does.

They untangle themselves, but stay close as they sit up to check their phones.

Dean opens his messages, idly reminding himself to charge his phone tonight. The many birthday wishes from friends and family drained his battery today.

A text from Claire, Happy birthday, Hasselhoff. Brace yourself.

Cas laughs in the glow of his screen, his eyes scrunching up and sending a road map of lines across his temples that Dean would drive for the rest of time.

"Claire?"

Cas nods. "She sent us a 'warning,'" (his air quotes melt Dean's heart just that little bit more, like they always do.) Cas smiles bright. "She and Kaia are crashing at our place tomorrow on their way to Yosemite."

Dean grins back, relishing the thought of family in the guest room again.

He texts back, Bring it on, Barbie, And kindly doesn't mention that they are not even close to 'on the way' to Yosemite from Sioux Falls.

"They actually manage to scrounge up a case?" Dean asks, worry sending tension coiling across his shoulders. Turns out, Chuck lied. The world left behind after his defeat is calmer, with fewer monsters stirred to bloodlust, not more.

Cas shakes his head. "Road trip."

The tension releases, a smile taking its place. Dean sinks back into Cas' side, thoughts drifting to what his past self would think if he could see Dean now.

He always told himself he didn't want to get old, didn't want to deal with those aches and pains, didn't want to get slow. He told himself that living long enough to lose all his friends was really the worst thing. He told himself that going down swinging was the only way to go.

He ignored the pain of broken ribs and bleeding knuckles. He ignored how many friends he'd already lost. He ignored his own desire to live at peace and in safety.

Why hope for things you know you'll never have.

Dean chuckles, causing Cas to raise a questioning brow.

Dean takes a look around the home he’s built here with Cas and then leans in for a lingering kiss, knowing he'll be welcome, knowing he is loved by so many people (his family), no matter what.

He answers, smiling so wide his cheeks ache with it. "Just glad that past me was full of crap."

#spn #destiel #supernatural #fanfiction #my fics #dean winchester #castiel #deansbirthdaybash

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izvmimi · 1 year

Text

cw: questionable reader, infidelity, reader is engaged to izuku, fem!reader. mention of alcohol and smoking. violence and deceit. brief smut with dubious consent. minors dni.

summary: reader looks for excitement and gets more than she bargained for.

a/n: this is... something lmfao. heed the warnings.

you’re greedy.

here you are, with a pricey ring on your finger, in a posh little apartment that is decorated head to toe with the things you like and never had to pay for, and with a lease you’ve never seen nor signed, looking directly at a framed photo of your eventually-husband on the wall. it’s the cover page from an old shoot of izuku’s that you’ve always thought was particularly sexy and encouraged him to make for you.

it doesn’t have the same effect, you realize.

not because you don’t find your fiancé attractive anymore - that’s far from the truth - but because you’ve decided that all of this is... too easy.

izuku loves you too much. he’s sweet. he’s kind. he makes time for you even though he’s often busy. you are the moon and the stars to him and would do anything to make you happy.

something about that is... boring, you think.

turning over on your bed, you scroll through your social media on a burner account you hold - the one that lets you creep on all the pro heroes that you’ve ever considered. pro hero cellophane seems to be dating a new girl these days that he thinks is probably too good for him but who he’s definitely too good for, chargebolt and mindjack appear to be going strong as usual, and ingenium remains happily married to pro hero uravity.

you continue to scroll, and then you see him. pro hero dynamight.

foul-tempered despite having a good heart, and with a scowl to contend with your partner’s classic winning smile, you can’t conceal your own smile creeping to your lips as you click on his handle and go through his pictures.

you’ve always wondered what it would be like... if it were him instead of izuku. after all, if there was such a long childhood rivalry, it must be for a reason, right? katsuki bakugou - the name rolls off your tongue as you lay in bed, and you append it to yours instead of midoriya. it sounds better, you think. he is better for you, perhaps.

your mouth twists as you look at the your engagement ring. it catches the light as your hand moves.

perhaps. if you’ve caught one’s eye, perhaps you can catch the other you’ve always thought.

after all, you run into katsuki at the store today, and for once, just once, he smiled at you.

---

izuku has been overseas for a month by now. the video calls and text messages have remained the same level of consistent, every day and twice on sunday, and he’s sent you postcards, many of which apologize for not being there and others making it very clear that he would want nothing more than to hold you close. you’re most fond of the presents - expensive shoes and clothing, makeup, anything that you ask for to keep yourself looking well-maintained - although you still do appreciate how sweet he is when he calls you in the middle of the night, and how that rapidly shifts to a more hungry, dominant tone in the early am.

but you’ve realized you like bakugou’s voice better.

“you come around here often?” he says in a low tone, as he catches you on your daily run through the park down the street from your highrise. you laugh, coyly as you stop and thank the heavens that you picked this particular outfit that accentuates your best assets.

“you know i live here, don’t you?”

he grins, and you’re blinded by white teeth in the early morning sun.

“yeah, i’m well aware midoriya moved you in here.”

you scrunch your face. it’s that classic rude behavior that stings but perhaps can soften over time. maybe you’ll be more partial to it when he’s fucking you.

“he did so kindly move me here, but i have my own money, you know,” you say, sweetly. bakugou tilts his head to the side, and you keep your smile even, batting your eyelashes ever so slightly. it’s irresistible and you watch his eyes glide over you carefully before he catches himself.

“can i continue my run, mr. dynamight?” you ask, skirting past him. accidentally bumping into him, you apologize, but you deliberately hold onto his bicep. it’s a trained move. you’ve done it on midoriya enough times to know that it works.

you don’t say anything else to each other - bakugou makes some noncommittal sound and decides he’s no longer interested in the conversation - but you figure some progress has been made as you run off, making sure he has a good view of you from the back.

---

bakugou is hard to break, but he leaves just enough hints that you can crack him. after all, since you’ve met in the neighborhood, he seems to pop up everywhere you are, to the point that you’ve teased him about potentially stalking you.

“i don’t think izuku would like how much time you’re spending around me,” you finally tease. you are sipping from a martini at a bar, again not too far from your highrise, enough that you can stumble back home together and make a very serious mistake (or not). bakugou’s drink is surprisingly sweet - an amaretto stone sour - and you tease him endlessly for it.

“it’s good,” he replies, gruffly, not looking at you. he downs it quickly, and you think perhaps a couple more of those will get him drunk and honest.

"midoriya doesn’t care about much other than hero work,” bakugou says.

you raise an eyebrow slightly at the implication that your fiancé does not care where you go or what you do. and yet here you are, on a friday evening with #2, hoping that perhaps he will look at you the same way your partner does.

“like you do?” you joke, laughing. the tilt of bakugou’s head is just teasing enough at this angle and you remember that he is quite charming despite all of his supposed faults.

“i’m here with you tonight, aren’t i?”

you don’t have a comeback for that. instead, you shift, and then you move in a little, and he moves in too, and your lips meet.

---

when clothes come off and your phone turns off, for a minute, you consider just how wrong this is. after all your partner hasn’t done anything wrong except be himself, and now you’ll probably miss his calls to sleep with his friend.

and yet when katsuki stuffs himself inside you and his fingers intertwine with yours, it’s very hard to imagine that anything else matters. what matters is this moment, right now, where katsuki has also noticed you, and also dreamt of pleasuring you, and doesn’t care about risking his reputation or his friendship for your sake... it feels like something you don’t want to wake up from.

katsuki gives you round after round, and by the final time you’ve tipped over the edge, you have a single second of clarity.

your phone hasn’t rung the entire night. there’s an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach once you realize this, stress exuding from your body like the fluid (cum and all) seeping out of your legs.

when you turn, katsuki is lighting a cigarette, something that surprises you. no pro hero you’ve ever met does this, and especially not so casually, given that they usually make sure to keep their bodies in tip-top shape.

or at least look like they’re doing so.

“you... smoke?”

he almost looks shocked you asked. you blink, pulling your bedsheets to cover your chest instinctively, but continue laying on your side. katsuki crosses his legs at the ankle and lays comfortably. he glances at the picture of izuku across the room, and you look at his face carefully for any type of remorse. there is none. rather than remorse, there’s more a curiosity.

“does he treat you well?” katsuki asks.

you swallow hard. considering katsuki’s lips were just closed around your nipple a few minutes ago it’s an extremely odd question.

“...” you can’t bring yourself to say no, but you also don’t think saying yes is appropriate given the circumstances. so instead you say nothing.

katsuki pulls you closer to lay against his body, still staring at the picture dispassionately. you squirm a little against him, but he’s warm. he feels somewhat safe. somewhat.

perhaps this feeling will change with time. after all, you’ve been with izuku for years. it’s bound to feel different having a different man in your bed.

you remain hopeful, and you fall asleep.

---

pro hero dynamight is not beside you in the morning, but before you can panic and consider yourself used, you hear tinkering outside the room, and the thought occurs to you that perhaps he needed to use the bathroom, or even better, was kind enough to make breakfast.

thinking about the incredible sex you had from last night brings warmth to your cheeks, but when you look up and see izuku’s picture, you quickly avert your eyes to check your phone on the end table.

no missed calls. no texts.

odd.

for a moment you wonder if something may have happened to him, if perhaps some karmic curse meant injury befell him and that’s why he hasn’t called you, but you quickly shake that thought from your head. you are by no means superstitious. you are allowed to fall out of love with someone.

perhaps not in this particular way, but izuku will get over it. someday.

you still feel like you should check in, however. sitting up, you wonder how logistically you can call him - should you wait for katsuki to leave or text him now and risk him calling you?

while you are contemplating, you get a phone call...

from katsuki.

not the fake number he’s been using to contact you all this time, but his actual one, the one you and izuku both have.

furrowing your eyebrows, you pick up the phone, and it really is him, his voice, and you wonder why he hasn’t just walked back in to talk to you.

“hey ____, deku got caught up with something and the nerd wants me to make sure you’re safe-”

you cut him off in confusion.

“wait, what are you talking about? aren’t you just in the kitchen?”

katsuki pauses and the pit you had in your stomach earlier seems to double in size. you can faintly hear the water still running in the kitchen and footsteps shuffling around.

“... what the hell are you on about?” he asks.

your heart starts to pound.

“babe, don’t be silly we just made love.”

there’s a very pregnant pause on the phone, and then katsuki clears his throat.

he doesn’t ask why you called him babe, and you try desperately to come up with an explanation for the extremely impartial tone he has on the phone. your throat is going dry the entire time, blood running cold from your fingertips to your toes.

“what the fuck are you talking about? why would i ever...?”

“s-so you haven’t been here?”

“are you fucking insane? i just came back from osaka last night.” he replies, incredulous.

a sound comes out of you that sounds like a whimper and it’s fear. bakugou is still ranting at the other end of the line but you catch only some of it.

“hold on, i’m just gonna ask midoriya to call you because i have no idea who the fuck you’re calling babe but i’d rather stay out of it.”

the pit in your stomach triples and you start calculations in your head.

if that’s not katsuki, then who is-

the footsteps are approaching now and you quickly hang up, pushing your phone into the cabinet, smiling sweetly at not-katsuki who’s finally returned.

“did you sleep well?” he asks. now that you look again, his red irises don’t look right, flat and soulless compared to bakugou’s natural vitality.

what’s more concerning is not-katsuki’s hands are behind his back.

you’re unable to conceal your sudden terror, and tremble as you answer:

“y-yes.”

not-katsuki has finally realized that you’ve picked up that he’s not who he says he is. a smile unfurls, and then the disguise melts away slowly as whoever the fuck you just fucked reveals knives sharpened to a point and a hole lot of rope.

you’re too terrified to scream.

“i didn’t think this disguise would work,” he chuckles as he approaches. “i always thought the pro heroes were the best of friends.”

frozen in place, you think of a way to escape, but nothing comes to mind. instead you are naked, vulnerable, confused and trapped in a web of your own making.

your phone starts to ring, the vibration reverberating through the wood in the cabinet.

the villain smiles, and his teeth are no longer perfect and white, and your future is suddenly uncertain.

“good thing, you’re a dirty little whore.”

#izuku midoriya x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #izuku x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #thoughts: izuku #thoughts: bakugou #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes #cw: infidelity

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baby-beelzeburger · 2 years

Text

Read my Heart

➳ Content Warnings: MC is gender neutral, but compared to a female character in a story.

➳ Summary: Satan can’t sleep, and the only solution he can think of is you.

➳ Pairing: Satan/MC

➳ Word count: 3,224

Satan didn’t often have issues getting rest. More often then not, he was drifting off the second his head hit the pillow. He was pretty sure it was because, after an entire day of dealing with the chaos his brothers brought, he was too tired by the end of it to ever have trouble catching some shut-eye. Whether that was truth or complete exaggeration, it was honest that struggling with sleep was a problem that he never had. That was, until tonight.

Satan couldn’t quite place the problem. He was plenty exhausted, and yet nothing he did could send him to sleep. He tried everything he could think of; He drank some tea, listened to the sounds of nature. He even tried counting sheep at one point. All useless.

And so his mind drifted to you, like it had been all night, for whatever reason. Perhaps because he had just said goodnight to you after a long study session before heading to his room, so you were still fresh on his mind. For all he knew, you were the reason he was being kept from sleep, the memory of your cute face twisted up in concentration as you went over his notes still present in his mind.

These thoughts led him to believe that if you were on his mind, potentially the reason of him being awake, then perhaps you could be his solution as well.

Satan rolled over, reaching out for the DDD that sat on a pile of books at his bedside. He turned it on and the brightness of the screen flashing on burned his eyes. He squinted as they tried to adjust.

He clicked your contact to bring up your text messages, the most recent ones being from just that morning. He grinned to himself, remembering the exchange. You had both been planning your next prank on Lucifer, all while Lucifer sat at the dining table just a few seats away from you. You both had tried, and failed, holding in your giggles, and Lucifer looked like he had been on to you the whole time. But even if he couldn’t pull off the prank because of that, hearing your poorly surpressed laughter while you joked and schemed over text made the whole moment worth it.

The fondness of the memory warmed his heart. With a smile he started typing, hoping he wouldn’t be bothering you.

He sent you a quick message asking if you were awake. Your response was almost immediate.

MC: No.

He couldn’t help the tired chuckle that your dumb response pulled out of him.

Satan: Ha ha. Trouble sleeping?

MC: Sorta, yeah. I can hear Beel rumaging around in the kitchen. He’s very loud. It sounds like he’s tearing the place apart.

Yeah, that sounded like Beel. Satan felt sorry for you, having to put up with that every night. No wonder you always looked so tired. Not only did you have to deal with his brothers’ chaos just as he did, but you were also always kept up by either Levi dragging you to his room to play video games, or the sounds of Beel tearing the kitchen apart for a midnight snack or two. Or three.

He made a note in the back of his mind to invest in some good sound-canceling earbuds for you.

Satan: Most likely he is. I’m having trouble sleeping too. I have a strange request, If you wouldn't mind indulging me.

MC: Of course not. What is it?

Satan: Well, I was thinking...

MC: Uh-oh, that's never good.

Satan: Stop it. I was wondering if you would come see me in my room? I think being with you would help me sleep a little better.

The next response didn’t come as quickly. Satan worried that he might’ve pushed a boundary, but just before he could send and apology, your text came in.

MC: On my way.

You reached Satan’s room pretty quickly, signaling your appearance with a quiet knock before coming in. That lovely face of yours looked so worried the moment you stepped inside. He knew that he shouldn't feel happy that you were worried, but seeing you look so concerned for his own wellbeing made something warm bloom inside his chest.

"Hi," You said as you closed the door behind you. Your voice was a low whisper, so as to not disturb the peace.

"Hello," Satan responded just as lowly, sitting himself up on his elbow to better see you, "Sorry to disturb you so late."

"You're never a disturbance to me, Satan. I just hope I can help."

Satan caught your hands fidgetting with something, and as his eyes flickered down he noticed you fiddling with a book. His eyebrow raised quizically and he glanced up to you again.

"I thought maybe it might help you sleep if I read to you," You said, answering his unsaid question, "I didn't know what books in here were safe for me to read, given all the strange magics and whatnot you have, so I just grabbed something from my room instead."

Satan felt his heart beat against his ribcage at the thought. The kind gesture of you wanting to lull him to sleep with a story. The idea that your voice would be the last thing he heard as he drifted off.

He swore if you were any more wonderful, his heart would simply rip itself from his chest in order to be closer you. You'd kill him with your kindness, truly.

"Very well, then," He said, playing it cool, as he always did. He was lucky your hearing as a human was so poor, otherwise you may have quite literally heard his heart beat, and that would be awfully humiliating.

He scooted closer towards the window, gesturing towards the room he'd created on his bed for you. You smiled and made your way over.

"Watch where you step," He cautioned, eyes on the ground where you walked, watching out for any obstacles in your way. He was perfectly satisfyed with the way his room was, but he'd feel absolutely terrible if the mess of it caused you any harm.

You made it over to him safely, and he was able to release a breath of relief at the fact. His eyes didn't leave you though, still watching with intent over all of your movements. The way you lowered yourself onto his bed. The way you pulled his blankets over your legs and settled in, book in your lap. Although simple, your moments somehow managed to enthrall him completely. Yet none of it was any match for the smile you sent him, bathed in moonlight. It utterly bewitched him.

"Ready?" You asked, accompanied by the creaking of your book's spine as it opened. He answered with confirmation by settling himself down into bed. He tried to keep his distance, keeping as far from you as possible. His bed wasn't incredibly large like Lucifer's, and he wanted to make sure you weren't uncomfortable by getting too close.

That affectionate look you gave him sent a cherry red color blooming against the tips of his ears, and he feared he couldn't hide it even if he tried. It was almost as if you read his mind, the way you reached out for his wrist and gently tugged it closer.

"I don't mind if you want to get close," was all you said, a tender smile gracing your lips. And yet those honeyed words from your lips sounded like the most tempting siren song.

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

Despite having your full consent, he still had a hesitant look on his face. Hoping to offer a bit more encouragement, you opened your arm to welcome him over. With a sigh he shuffled closer, nestling into your side.

His head rested against your stomach, and immediately he felt relaxed. You felt so warm, and soft as well. Your pressence surrounding him was intantly tranquilizing. Your scent, your voice, even the sound of you breath and your steadily beating heart. Stronger then perhaps any sedative.

His bliss was temporarily interupted, however, when he heard you make an annoyed little sound. Satan realized at that moment that, with your arm now around him, keeping the book upright by yourself would be hard.

"Would you do me a favor and help me hold up the book?" You asked him, as your hand found it’s way to his hair, tousled from hours of tossing and turning.

Satan found it hard to give an answer as your fingers had immediately begun to play with his hair. That was the final straw, and now he felt as though his brain was shutting down. His mind could focus on nothing but the way your body felt against his. He swore he was about to overheat, like steam was about to come shooting out of his ears from how warm his body felt.

It was… embarrassing. He can't remember ever feeling so flustered. And over such a simple touch? What had you done to him?

You calling his name was enough to snap himself out of his stupor and recover from making himself seem like a fool. That just wouldn't do, especially not in front of you. Satan was a lot of things, but a fool was not one of them. He'd leave that nonsense for his brothers.

He cleared his throat and put on a smile.

"Yes, of course."

He took hold of the book once you'd opened to where you last left off. His eyes scanned the page, and a sense of familiarity met him.

"This is the book I lent you, isn't it?" He asked you, tillting his head upwards a bit to see you. You hummed in a confirming tone and he smiled, "How do you like it, then?"

"I love it," You responded, your eyes glittering in the moon shine, "The main character reminds me of you."

The comment caught him by surprise. He did relate to the main character a lot, but for you to see that as well somehow shocked him.

"Oh. Does he?"

"Yeah. He has your stubborness and short temper.” You said with a grin, the sass practically oozing from your voice. Satan rolled his eyes, trying to fight off the feeling of disapointment trying to well up inside him. You chuckled at the way he was practically pouting.

“I’m joking. Well, sort of. He does have your stubborness and short temper. But he also has your kindness, and your intelligence, and your nerdiness too. Actually the resemblance is a little bit uncanny. So much so that I can’t help but imagine him with a pair of stunning turquoise eyes just like yours."

Satan ignored your kind words for a moment, his curiosity taking precedence.

"Isn't he described to have brown eyes?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter. The image of you always shows up in my mind instead."

Satan felt his heart pick up pace again. Could you feel it beating against you?

He cleared his throat, averting his gaze to one of the many full-to-the-brim bookshelves in his room. He found it hard to meet your gaze, especially as he geared up the confidence to say what he was about to.

"And if I told you that the love interest reminds me of you?"

You smirked, your fingers running against his scalp again. A pleased shiver ran down his spine.

"I'd say it was bullshit, but I'd thank you anyway. She’s very lovely."

"Lovely is one way to put it, yes,” He nodded, forcing his eyes to look straight into yours, “I'd also say delightful. Charming. Intoxicating."

Finally, for what seemed like the first time that night, it seemed as though he was cracking through your composure just as you been to him since you’d arrived. Your eyes widened, and your breath halted in your throat. You laughed nervously, trying to recollect yourself.

"Okay, Mr. Thesaurus." You said as you tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear in what seemed like a gesture to distract yourself, "Thank you. Now should I read? Or will you just compliment me to sleep?"

"I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to that alternative.” He said, a smug grin decorating his lips, pleased that he’d finally gotten the upper hand on you, “But go right ahead.”

As you began to read, Satan let his imagination take over. See, Satan himself was incredibly guilty of finding your image appearing in his brain whenever the love interest was described. He was being honest when he said he saw you in her. He spent his entire time reading this book with images of the two of you doing the very same romantic things described for the main characters. With all the centuries of reading under his belt, Satan had a rather vivid imagination.

Unfortunately, his envisaging while reading got him into the habit of it. Now, a day hadn’t gone by without imagining some sort of romantic scenario between the two of you. There wasn’t a single thing he hadn’t daydreamed, including the very thing you were doing now. Cuddled up to you, his eyes lazily following along as you read. Honestly, that wasn’t helping anything, as now he had you saying all this romantic dialogue from the book in his memory. The next time he imagined holding you underneath the stars, exchanging sweet words with each other, he wouldn’t have to wonder what you would sound like while you said each line.

It wasn’t very long at all before he felt his eyelids begin to droop. It seemed he was right; your voice was exactly what he needed to fall asleep. And though he had originally intended to just speak with you until sleep found him, this was a welcomed outcome. You reading to him was just what he needed to finally get his brain to go into sleep mode and, before he even knew it, he was drifting off.

As dreams seeped into his mind, he had one final thought on his mind. Despite all of his playful flirtations with you, something that could be brushed away as simple banter between friends, he hoped that you knew that his feelings for you were real. He hoped you could understood that, as you read the main character’s confessions, it was like you were reading from his very own heart, and his own feelings for you.

He wasn't fully rested by the time morning came, since it had been rather late by the time he had cracked and finally called for your aid. It was enough to get him through the day though. His body had run on worse, to be quite honest, so he would survive.

What he hadn't been expecting was for you to still be there come morning. And yet, the first thing he saw when his eyes fluttered open was your body lying right next to his. Maybe under would be the better word, as half his body was blanketing yours, his head on your chest and his arm thrown over your waist. You didn't seem to mind, blissfully cuddled up to him. And as elated as he was to see you still there, he couldn't help but to have expected you to be gone by the time he woke up.

He lifted himself off of you, just enough to shake you awake. As your eyes fluttered open, he smiled down at you.

"What a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect you to still be here.”.

You scoffed, acting annoyed. You weren’t fooling him, though. He noticed the way you subtly shuffled closer as you tried to pull yourself back from your dream world.

"You made it a little hard to go anywhere."

"You could've gotten out if you really wanted to."

“Not without waking you,” You shot back, “Which would’ve made all that reading a waste of time.”

“No such thing,” He mused, his arm tightening around you. You indulged him, if only for a little while, letting him continue to rest on you. Just like last night, your fingers gently combed through his sleep-tangled hair. Normally, he would consider it mortifying for anyone to see him in such a dishevled state. With you, he didn’t care.

But every good thing had to end, even if he wanted to spend an eternity with you in his bed, listening to you reading all his favorite stories. After a few minutes of tired chatter amongst yourselves, you started to shift restlessly under him.

"We better get up now before Lucifer finds us and loses it. He’ll probably be upset if we’re late for breakfast. "

Satan chuckled, nuzzling his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

"If you’re really trying to convince me to leave this bed then you’re doing a poor job of it."

"The stray cats won't get fed this morning if you aren't in the garden when they come by."

"That… is a lot more convincing.” He admitted, The images of the strays waiting for him out in the garden appearing in his mind. The thought of them going hungry, even for just a day, made his heart drop. But even then, you were so warm, and you held him so gently. What magic had you placed on him that he was even considering staying in bed with you over going to see the cats?

“Yet I still don't want to get up. Damn you for being so comfortable."

You laughed, fully wriggling out from under him. He groaned, reaching out to you as you tossed the covers off of your legs.

"Then how about this: we meet back here after school and we can take a nap together before dinner."

Satan hummed in thought, faking consideration even when his mind had been made up the second the question had been posed.

"I must say, I never understood how Belphie could sleep at all hours of the day. But you make it sound rather tempting." He prended to think for just a bit more- he didn’t want to seem desperate, of course- before nodding, “Okay, you have a deal."

"Great" You said with a smile. You leaned down and kissed his forehead before standing from his bed. You raised your arms in the air, stretching out your tensed muscles from spending the night squashed under Satan’s weight.

"I'm going to head to my room to get ready, then. I'll see you downstairs for breakfast."

"Yeah. See you there"

Even as Satan lifted himself off of his bed, his eyes didn’t leave you. It was like they couldn’t part from your image, magnitized to you. Somehow you were still just as beautiful with your hair a mess and your clothing askew.

You turned to give a final wave and a smile over your shoulder before shutting his bedroom door behind yourself. Satan bolted up the second you were gone, moving at the speed of light as he got ready. He knew it to be illogical, but he couldn’t help but think that if he sped along the process, then his time with you would come all the faster. Never before had be been so excited to come home from school.

One other thing he was sure of: he could certainly get used to hearing your voice first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan x mc #omswd #omswd satan #omswd satan x reader #omswd satan x mc

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lunaraindrop · 2 years

Text

Who Needs Fast Times? -Steddie-Fic

Eddie said he had the purpose of renting The Dark Crystal when he walked into Family Video that day.

"Yeah, our favorite little flock are coming over later. Might as well make it a movie night, right?"

Steve, who knew they were all going over to Eddie's new trailer later because *he* would be the one taking them over, nodded sagely.

"That's a good idea. Creepy Muppets will definitely keep those rag tag idiots entertained for a while."

Depositing an armful of return tapes on the counter, Robin couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh! Steve! I heard that Tammy Thompson is planning to join a band!"

Eddie's nose crinkled. "Is it Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem? Because she sounds like a Muppet, and not even the cool, creepy kind."

Steve beemed at Eddie, happy, fond smile on his face. "Yes! That is exactly what I've been saying!"

The more they were around each other, the more Steve and Eddie found that they strangely had many things in common. Despite outward appearances, it became quickly apparent that the two guys were ridiculously compatible.

As friends, of course.

It fascinated the kids, especially Dustin, how in sinc they were. Like a well oiled machine. If they were not on the same wavelength, they were balancing each other out. More than once Dustin secretly pouted that Eddie would be the perfect boyfriend for Steve. You know, if Steve and Eddie liked guys. The one time he vented about it to Max, Eddie had overheard.

Oh, if Henderson only knew.

At this point, pining was an art to Eddie. To him, his growing friendship was worth a little heartache, if it meant he got to keep Steve.

Hey. Steve looked out for everyone else. Someone had to look out for him.

If he knew how Eddie felt...well, it might not go well.

A costumer had come in in the middle of their laughter. The two employees calmed it down to give the Family Video greeting. In fake, cheery unison.

Eddie laughed again when the customer was out of earshot. "Talk about creepy Muppets. You two are giving the Skeksis a run for their money."

Steve furrowed his brow. "Who?"

Robin rolled her eyes. "The creepy Muppets we have been talking about, dingus!"

Eddie, a glint in his eyes, leaned his forearms onto the counter, getting dangerously close to Steve's face.

"Stevie, have you actually seen The Dark Crystal?"

Steve, not moving away, only shrugged. "No? But, come on, the movie cover has creepy Muppets on it. Not that far a leap, Ed."

That glint danced as he shot an amused look briefly to Robin. "You're coming with the kids, right?"

Finally stepping back for a little space, Steve blinked. "Oh. You want me to stay? I was just doing the drop off."

Eddie tilted his head, eyes never leaving Steve's but calling over his shoulder. "Bucks, you and Big Boy are both welcome to come join our fiasco tonight. We can educate this poor boy on good movies."

"It would take a lot more than one night, Eddie. But sure, I'll go."

Steve moved from the counter and put his hands on his hips. "Hey, I know good movies! Just because I haven't seen some of the nerdy ones does not mean I don't know!"

Looking over, he held up one in triumph. Robin squawked and rolled her eyes.

"No! Not this again."

"Yes! This again! This is a good movie!"

Eddie reached for the cassette. "What movie even is this?" Yanking it out of Steve's hand, Eddie danced away and ducked down next to Robin. Reading it silently, Eddie looked up in disappointment at Steve.

"Fast Times at Ridgemont High? Really?"

Steve looked at Eddie in astonishment. Besides the debate on heavy metal vs pop, Steve and Eddie agreed on almost everything.

"Wait, you don't like Fast Times?"

Robin actually looked a little worried. Steve face looked like it was a little in pain.

Eddie bit his lip, but shook his head. "Sorry, Steve-o. Not really my thing."

Steve seemed to rally, and bounced on his feet, looking a bit like an excited Dustin. "But, like, come on. Everyone likes at least some parts of the movie."

"Oh my God, Steve! Shut. Up-" Robin tried to speak over when she realized where he was going with that.

Eddie crossed his arms. "Eh, I watched it once. Didn't really like it."

"What about at-"

"Steve, NO-"

"53 minutes and-"

"I SWEAR, IF YOU SAY-

" -5 seconds?"

Eddie twirled the ring in his index finger. "What's at 53 minutes and 5 seconds?"

Steve smiled and opened his mouth.

Robin beat him to it.

"DON'T. SAY. BOOBIES!"

Steve smiled.

"Boobies."

Robin threw a pack of red licorice at him.

Eddie...still did not look impressed. " 'Boobies' ? That's it?"

"That...that's it?! They're boobies!"

"Like, are they enchanted boobs?"

Both Steve and Robin were speechless.

Robin recovered first. " 'Enchanted Boobs' ?! Jesus Christ, Eddie!"

Steve literally shook off his stupor. "There's no magic in Fast Times, Eddie!"

The one customer they had quietly slinked out the doorway.

Noticing this, Eddie wiggled the cassette, only for Steve to step up and take him from him.

"Okay, so what makes that part so special?"

Steve was flummoxed. "The boobies is the special part! Anyone that likes boobies likes that part!"

And all at once, Eddie felt his stomach drop to the floor.

Anyone who likes boobies likes that part...but Eddie doesn't seem to see anything special about that part.

He knew he was silent for too long. And by the tiny gasp that Robon let out, he knew his secret was out.

He was out.

Sure, he could have left it as is. Made a joke, run away. Not let them know.

But, Eddie was trying to be braver. And, these were supposed to be his friends. Best friends, really, aside from Henderson. Shouldn't they know him for real?

Taking a risk, Eddie used a luck point to roll.

"Yeah...still not my thing, Steve."

Steve furrowed his brow.

"What's not your thing?"

Gathering ever piece of courage he had, Eddie whispered in Steve's ear.

"Boobies, Big Boy."

He stood back, trying to hide his nerves with a goofy smile.

Robin reached out.

"Oh, Eddie. Are you-?"

"A Friend of Dorothy? Just call my Scarecrow. Or Toto, I guess."

Steve, frozen, said distractedly, "Nah, you wouldn't Bless the Rains in Africa."

Shaking that off, Steve put a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

"You-you like guys?"

Eddie, nervous, replied, "Yeah."

He did not expect both Steve and Robin to manhandle him into a slightly awkward, but very warm hug.

Robin squeezed him tighter. "This is so big! Thank you for trusting us with this!"

The door chimed as another customer came in. That time, Robin was the only one to say the greeting, only after untangling herself. It took Steve a little longer to pull away (which Eddie didn't mind.)

When he did, though, his cheeks were red, and he was looking at Eddie like he knew an answer to a question Steve didn't think to ask.

Showing the customer the choices of children's movies, Robin reached out and squeezed Eddie's hand. "We'll talk later. But, I am so proud of you!" Looking over at Steve, she nodded, and smiled at Eddie. "Just, you know. If you're Scarecrow, I'm definitely Tinman." She walked off.

Eddie grinned. "I knew it!"

Seeing as it was only the two of them left, Eddie whistled and grabbed The Dark Crystal. "I better get going. Gotta set up crash space for the flock. And a place for us grown ups to sit."

As he walked out, he heard Steve curse at himself, before being followed out the door.

"Hey, Eddie! Wait!"

Eddie turned, movie in hand.

"You called, Sir Steven?"

Running fingers through his hair and scratching at the back of his neck, Steve asked, "Okay, so, no to boobies, right? Well, w-what do you like?"

"What do I like...?"

Steve smiled, but almost bitterly said, "Nerdy guys, right? You probably like really smart guys with perfect pecks. Or Metalheads! Do you like metalheads? Because you like the same music?"

Was...was Steve...jealous?

Holy shit.

Heart hammering, Eddie locked eyes with Steve.

"Stevie, Stevie, Stevie. I might be awesome, but loving another version of me would get so boring."

He sauntered closer, never taking his eyes away from that beautiful brown.

The words tumbled out. "What do you like, then?"

"I like hairy chests."

Steve actually looked down at himself.

"Eyes on me, Big Guy."

When he knew he had Steve's undivided attention, he spoke in a hushed whisper..

"I like hairy chests. I also really like dumb jocks that are a lot smarter than they are given credit for. I like guys with terrible tastes in movies and music, but God damn do they love their friends and their kids."

The longer Steve was silent, the more dread Eddie felt. Just as he was about to apologize, Steve leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Please let me be reading this right. Because, God Munson, I want to be reading this right so bad."

Eddie, blushing, whispered to Steve.

"Uh...do you happen to like guys too?"

Steve whispered back, "I'm half Toto, and I'm going to show you just how much I like you, Eddie Munson."

#eddie muson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie #wtf did i just write #i need sleep #luna is a writer #wtf luna #robin buckley #lunaraindrop

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the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep · 5 months

Text

Chapter 3: A Familiar Face

Summary: As the heiress apparent to House Selemchant of Amn, Dulcinea is used to getting her way. At 28 years old, she has never had to lift a finger unless it was to cast an evocation spell. That is, until she woke up on an unknown beach with a tadpole in her brain.

Rating: MA

Category: F/M

Relationships: Tav/Gale

Chapter 3/?

Word Count: 1.1K

“A little help, please?” a man’s voice called frantically from within the portal. Dulcinea recoiled slightly, noticing the frenetic energy that the portal emitted. The Weave that powered it hissed and popped. Whoever pulled this little stunt had created an unstable tunnel of arcane power. This person appeared to know what they were doing when they attempted this but managed to bungle it to the point that they were now mired within a mess of their own making.

That voice, Dulcinea thought to herself. I know that voice. Dulcinea was not in the habit of performing any degree of manual labor, never mind pulling people out of unstable creations of the Weave. She glanced at her companions from the corner of her eye, shifting uncomfortably. They were in a standoff with each other and nobody seemed particularly eager to yank someone out of a rock on the side of the road. Yet, Dulcinea could not shake the feeling that somehow she knew this person from somewhere.

Dulcinea groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “Fine, I’ll do it.” She stomped over to the portal and paused for a moment. The stranger’s arm waved impatiently in front of her. Dulcinea thought highly of herself in many regards, but she was well aware that it was highly unlikely, if not altogether impossible, for her to pull a grown man out of a portal. She looked over her shoulder at her companions. “A little help would be quite appreciated,” she sneered. “I’ll pull the arm, but I need someone to pull me.” Shadowheart and Astarion exchanged conferring glances. They weren’t fond of their spoiled traveling companion, but she had managed to pull her weight in dire situations thus far. Shadowheart sighed inwardly, volunteering herself as a second assist.

Dulcinea grabbed the man’s forearm with both hands while Shadowheart looped her arms around Dulcinea’s waist. Dulcinea felt an unexpected prickle of excitement at Shadowheart’s touch. “We’ll pull on three. One… two… three!” Dulcinea leaned back into Shadowheart, pulling the stranger’s arm with all her might. Shadowheart pulled while stepping backward, adding additional traction.

“That’s it, just a little more,” the man instructed, relief already settling into his voice. Slowly, more of the stranger’s body began to emerge from the portal. Suddenly, Dulcinea felt a loss of resistance, sending her and Shadowheart careening backward into the ground. In their wake, the stranger came free from the portal, tumbling to the ground in from of them.

“Ugh, I fell on my tailbone,” Dulcinea whined as she rose to her feet. She dusted her dress off, huffing in irritation. She looked up to find the stranger standing in front of her. In fact, it was no stranger at all. Her eyes widened. “Gale,” she breathed. Her pulse quickened, warmth rising to her cheeks. “What are you —”

“Doing here? I shall ask you the same question, Miss Selemchant. Although it’s quite a relief to see a familiar face, you and I are quite a ways from Waterdeep,” Gale interrupted.

Dulcinea swallowed hard. “I suppose we are, yes.” It had been a year since she last saw Gale, but he hadn’t lost that rakish handsomeness that made her her heart race. His wavy chestnut hair was now streaked with grey and furrows in his brow and the smile lines that adorned his eyes had deepened. His eyes sparkled as brightly as ever in the mid-afternoon sun.

Gale turned his attention to Astarion and Shadowheart. “I’m Gale of Waterdeep,” he said, shaking each of their hands. “My apologies, I’m usually better at this. Magic, I mean.”

“Are you alright?” Shadowheart asked, a look of mild concern crossing her face.

Gale shrugged affably. “A bit shocked, but it’s certainly a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Although, I believe we all know each other, yes? In a manner of speaking. We were all aboard the nautiloid and I can assume that all of us were on the receiving end of an unwelcome insertion to the ocular region.”

Dulcinea shuddered. Her memories of being aboard the ship were fragmented and blurred like a fever dream. What she could recall with a visceral certainty was the tadpole wriggling its way into her eye socket. She remembered the searing pain and the aching of her vocal folds, battered and swollen from her screams.

Gale continued, uninterrupted. “This insertee, this parasite will trigger a process called ceremorphosis that shall turn us into mind flayers. Let me assure you that this must be avoided.”

Gale looked appraisingly at Astarion and Shadowheart. “Would either of you happen to be a cleric? A doctor? A surgeon? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?”

Shadowheart eyed Gale skeptically. “Surely you know enough about our condition to see that this is beyond the skillset of the average cleric.”

“Most, no doubt. I was hoping to find myself in the presence of one of the few. That wouldn’t happen to be one of you, would it?” Astarion smirked. “I’m less of a knitting needle person, but I have other, ah, implements that I’m quite skillful with.” Visibly uncomfortable, Gale shifted his gaze from Astarion.

Dulcinea crossed her arms and exhaled forcefully through her nose in boredom and frustration. Her boots were not made for walking such distances, causing her feet to ache with every slight movement. Even in her summer dress, Dulcinea was drowning in sweat. “Right. I think it’s well established that none of us can do anything about this,” she said curtly. “So we need to find an actual healer. Now.”

“Dulcinea, you always cut through to the marrow of the problem. And right you are. How about we lend each other a helping hand once more and look for a healer together?”

“Yes,” Dulcinea responded, almost a little too quickly.

“Most excellent,” he smiled. “A tadpole shared is a tadpole halved, or something to that effect.”

“Shall we continue on, then?” Astarion asked, taking note of the sun’s progressive descent towards the horizon. “We’ve spent more than enough time staring at rocks and not enough time looking for a tadpole specialist.”

“Before you think you’re about to embark on a journey with a most ill-mannered a man, thank you for pulling me out of that stone.”

“How someone of your acumen managed to get stuck in a portal is beyond me,” Dulcinea said incredulously. “But… you’re welcome.” She cleared her throat and set her sights on the road ahead. “Surely we’ll make camp soon, right?” she asked Astarion and Shadowheart, a pleading tone in her voice. “I’m desperate for a reprieve.”

“If it will give us a reprieve from your whining, we can make camp right now,” Astarion snarled.

Dulcinea snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “You don’t need to be so sharp with me. I was only asking a question.”

Astarion sighed in irritation. “Just lead on, will you?”

Dulcinea took her place at the front of the group. “I suppose we’re going… that way,” she said with feigned decisiveness, pointing northeast. Dulcinea didn’t have the faintest idea where she was leading her companions. All she hoped was that there might be a healer there. And a hot bath.

#bg3 gale #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fic #baldur's gate #tav x gale #gale x tav

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marvus-xoloto · 2 years

Text

Some Sweet Nasty Intimacy I've been thinking about. Some of these are rewritten from a post in my drafts (that I've apparantly posted before?? But I liked them so. Rewrite time).

___

-You are the only one at the party who recognizes that Marvus has abused one too many substances that night. He’s looking a little queasy but he refuses to either admit it or give up. Cue his delighted face when you tell him hey 😏 you’ve never been there before 😏, and “where’s the bathroom 😏?” He’s sick pretty immediately and you get the pleasure of holding his hair back and rubbing a cool wash cloth against his sweaty neck. He’s so dizzy he’s gripping onto that bowl for dear life, but you occasionally catch him looking at you with the softest gaze you’ve ever seen from him. You also get to see how completely indesctructable alternian face paint is. How is he leaving this bathroom with a full face?? You may never know.

-DATE NIGHT You and Marvus dancing and goofing in the kitchen, singing along to Britney Spears and freestyle rapping some of her verses. He’s wearing basketball shorts and socks and fluffy slippers. You're both drinking faygo out of champagne flutes.

-Marvus asking you to help him pull his hair back but, instead of turning around, he just gets really into your space and hands you a pink ribbon. You rake his hair back and run your fingers through his bangs (which flop forwaed again) as you tie his hair back, facing him. Bonus headcanon: prolongued eye contact with purple bloods makes you see shrimp colors and the world gets all wavy outside of the view of their face.

-Continuation of the above: Marvus asking for your help tying his bowtie. You don’t know how to do it, so he wraps it around your arm a few times and shows you how to tie the bow over your wrist. Or, if you do know how to do it, he takes a moment to pull your hands by the wrists around his neck to that secret space behind his hair, winding the ribbon around his neck. He shivers.

-Marvus pacing around the room, ranting and raving about literally whatever set him off, or just gossiping, or just venting about something that bothered him. And then the second he's done he's pushing his face into your belly, arms around your waist and purring loudly as he nuzzles his face into you. Because expressing his "negative" emotions with someone is High Forms Of Intimacy for him.

-Marvus leaves his dirty clothes "for you" while he leaves to go on tour, and is hurt when he gets home and you've either washed them or, more likely, quarantined them in his closet bc they're stinky. So you weren't sniffing his panties while he was gone?? You weren't wrapping yourself in his sweat soaked shirt and crying while eating ice cream from the tub, awaiting his return?? Bonus headcanon: trolls are pretty terrortorial (lol), and leaving behind their scent in your territory is a way of a. testing the waters of a quadrant and b. trying to sneak their way into some sort of nesting thing with another.

-TAKING CARE OF MARV WHEN HE GETS SICK 🥺🥺🥺 I've said this before, but you know he's PERFORMING for those pity points. He will paint a sadder, more pathetic look on his face. He will rub his snotty nose on your shirt. He will try to make out with you with his nasty sick breath. He will whine and complain and goad you into spoiling him, and he loves that he gets to act like that. He doesn't like when adoration comes to easy.

-Marvus appearing in your nightmares and shifting them into dreams once you tell him you've been having a hard time sleeping lately. Marvus leaving happy jujus (such as: fond memories you've shared, or perhaps a little marvus plush) in your dreamscape to keep your dreams sweet. Marvus showing up sometimes in your dreams just because he misses you. I'm imaginine the music video to daft punk's "something about us" here lol.

I'd love to write some more but my inspo is drained, so perhaps later?

#silas.txt #do i tag this? fck it #marvus #marvus xoloto

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ahdriking · 2 years

Note

3 kind you say?!

Watching porn together, fingering, toys?

Do with this what you will 😅

...... ok but kinn and porsche watching porn together actually broke my brain a liiiiiitle bit.

"What are you doing?"

Porsche, sitting up on the bed with the sheets pooled around his waist, holding the TV remote aloft in his grip, looks at Kinn with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

"I want to watch some porn."

Kinn blinks.

"Porn?"

Indeed, Porsche turns on the TV, throws the remote somewhere onto the vast expanse of his bed, and then reaches for his phone. Moments later, the loading screen of a porn website appears on the monitor, followed by a very sudden and very explicit view of a young woman on all fours getting absolutely pounded into by a muscular man twice her size.

The noises are, frankly, obscene.

Kinn has never had a fondness for porn, particularly of the straight variety, so he watches with amusement as Porsche settles back into the bed with a grin on his face, reaching for his cock.

"What?" He needles, throwing Kinn a dirty grin as his fingers close around his hardening length. "I'm bored."

Kinn raises his eyebrows, rolling over to prop his head up on one arm.

"And this is how you think to amuse yourself?"

Porsche shrugs, his gaze firmly fixed on the screen. He bites his bottom lip as he slowly begins to stroke himself.

"Want to mix things up."

Kinn rolls his eyes. Before Porsche can stop him he snatches his phone, rolling out of Porsche's reach once he has it with a grin of his own on his face. Porsche sighs and gives up trying to steal it back.

"Well, if we're watching porn," Kinn says. "It might as well be something we'd both enjoy."

The loading screen comes back, cutting through the obscene sounds of the woman getting railed, plunging the room into sudden silence. Porsche's hand stills on his cock as he watches and waits to see what video Kinn has selected to play instead.

The screen fades from black to the image of a lithe, muscular man lying face down on a massage bed. Beside him, another man, slightly more muscular, uncaps the lid of a bottle of oil and smears its contents onto his hands, before setting them on the shoulders of the man lying down.

"Gay porn?" Porsche asks, sounding surprised.

Kinn rolls his eyes again. "What, you've never watched it?"

Porsche shakes his head with a laugh. "Didn't know I was into guys before I met you, dumbass."

"Well, it's never too late to learn."

Kinn pushes himself upright and sits back against the headboard, close enough to Porsche that the sides of their legs brush against one another. He reaches over to his bedside table and rifles through the drawer before withdrawing a bottle of lube, smearing some onto his own hand before throwing it at Porsche.

Kinn turns his attention deliberately back to the screen as he wraps his hand around his slowly growing erection, watching as one man massages the other in smooth, sensual motions, oiling his skin until it shines pleasingly in the light, every muscle highlighted for his viewing pleasure. He strokes himself as the man's attentions go lower, until he's palming the other man's ass, spreading his cheeks so that the tight, pink furl of his hole is faintly visible.

Beside him, Porsche is watching the screen with a concentration so intense he seems to have forgotten all about his own cock. His eyes are wide, his lips half parted, and his cheeks have gone a delightful rosy color, almost as though he's embarrassed by what he's seeing.

The man on the massage table lets out a low, filthy moan as his massager's first finger penetrates the tight ring of muscle around his entrance. Kinn's cock throbs faintly as a rush of pleasure suffuses through him at the sound-- he's always like more vocal bottoms in the porn he enjoys. He likes to hear the way a man sounds when he comes apart.

"Shit," Porsche breathes beside him. His hand tightens around his cock, and he shudders. "Ok, that's pretty hot."

Kinn chuckles, low and gravelly. He watches Porsche as he settles a bit more comfortably against the headboard, his arm pressing against Kinn's, and starts to stroke himself properly again, lube slicking the way. He doesn't lose the little furrow of concentration between his brow.

One the screen, the man has two fingers pressing inside the bottom's ass now, thrusting them in in slow, sensuous motions. The noises the bottom makes are obscene, not as ridiculous or fake sounding as the sounds of Porsche's straight porn, but pure, filthy noises of pleasure that makes Kinn's stomach curl in a knot of heat. Two fingers turns into three, and beside him, Porsche gasps.

"Is that what it looks like?"

"Hmm?"

Porsche's blush deepens as he shoots a look at Kinn from the corner of his eye.

"Is that... Is that what I look like?"

Understanding dawns, and Kinn smiles devilishly. He grabs Porsche's face with an unrelenting grip, turning his head so that he meets Kinn's eyes.

"No," Kinn purrs, pitching his voice low. "You look even better."

The tips of Porsche's ears go red, and Kinn chuckles before he kisses him, open mouthed and filthy. Porsche moans into the kiss, his hand curling around Kinn's jaw, parting his lips in a sensuous slide against Kinn's own before licking into his mouth.

There is a loud moan from the TV and Porsche breaks the kiss to look away, just in time to watch the top's cock sink into the bottom's plush, pink hole. Kinn's eyes flick over to the screen, too, but he turns his attention back to Porsche, slowly kissing and biting along his jaw, doing his best to distract him.

The top fucks the bottom slow and deep, grunting low and rough as he takes his pleasure. The bottom is vocally appreciative, moaning and demanding more as he moves his hips back to meet every thrust. Porsche bites his lip as he watches, and Kinn can see the way his hand squeezes tighter around himself.

"Enjoying it?" Kinn whispers low in his ear, before taking the lobe into his mouth and nibbling lightly.

"Shut up."

Kinn chuckles, and then inspiration strikes. He takes Porsche's arm and tugs him sideways, pulling him across his lap in an ungainly sprawl that has his ass neatly placed within Kinn's reach. Porsche yelps, but lets his body be manhandled into place between Kinn's thighs, half on his side so that he can still reach his own cock.

Kinn reaches for the lube.

"What are you doing?"

He slicks his fingers, rubbing the viscous liquid between the digits to warm it, before dropping the bottle at his side. Porsche jumps when he feels Kinn's wet fingers press between his cheeks.

"Kinn! What--"

"Shhh, just watch the porn," Kinn hushes him, slowly stroking his finger against Porsche's furled entrance.

"Kinn--"

Porsche trails off with a breathy sound as the tip of Kinn's finger breaches him. He's still a little loose from their round last night, so it's no effort at all for Kinn to slide the finger in all the way to the hilt. Porsche's hand fists in the sheets and he turns his face against Kinn's leg, hiding it from view. When Kinn crooks his finger, rubbing it deliberately against Porsche's prostate, his whole body trembles.

"Fuck, Kinn--"

"Watch the porn, Porsche," Kinn demands, putting a bit of authority into his tone.

Porsche turns his face back to the screen, doing as he's told. Kinn can't see his face very well from the angle, but he can feel the way Porsche's hole clenches around him in pleasure as he watches the television and the obscene sex act unfolding on it.

Kinn fingers him slowly, in perfect time with the thrusts of the top on the screen, curling the digit to drag against Porsche's prostate with every pass. Porsche makes little breathy sounds of pleasure as Kinn fingers him, his hands still wrapped around his now leaking cock, stroking it slowly and leisurely. His body is relaxed in pleasure atop Kinn's own, and Kinn can't help pressing a trail of kisses along whatever flesh he can reach; Porsche's neck and shoulder, the curve of his back, the top of his spine.

He slips a second finger beside the first and Porsche makes a louder sound of pleasure, his back arching as he presses his hips into Kinn, seeking more. Kinn fucks them in and out a little faster now, curling them just right to drive the sweetest noises from Porsche's lips, enjoying the smooth, tight heat of Porsche's body.

While Porsche is distracted, he reaches into his bed side table once more, closing his hand around his prize and quickly hiding it from Porsche's view before he can notice.

Keeping his rhythm steady, Kinn uses his free hand to uncap the lube and smear some of it onto the length of the object he has in his hands, coating it thoroughly, before closing the bottle again. The sound of the cap snapping shut draws Porsche's attention, and he tries to twist in Kinn's lap to see what he's doing, but Kinn simply hooks his fingers hard against Porsche's prostate, sending him back to the bed with a pleasured moan.

"Kinn," Porsche pants. "What are you--"

Kinn withdraws his fingers abruptly, leaving Porsche's pretty pink hole to flutter around nothing. Porsche lets out a petulant whine, but Kinn ignores him in favour of pressing the slick object in his hands against the now unoccupied entrance to Porsche's body.

He feels Porsche go very still.

"Is that a--"

The tip of the dildo breaches him, and Porsche throws back his head and lets out a filthy, wanton moan. His body goes rigid, his back arching, as he is breached by the toy, the unforgiving press of silicone stretching him open. It's not as big as Kinn's cock, unfortunately, but it's big enough that he should feel the stretch.

"Kinn, fuck!" Porsche cries, burying his face in Kinn's thigh, grabbing hold of his calf with a frantic grip. "You can't just--"

Kinn thrusts the dildo in another inch, popping the flared head of the toy inside Porsche's hole and rotating it just slightly, teasing at the sensitive rim. Porsche shudders and sweat beads along his golden skin; Kinn's mouth waters to taste it, but he focuses on his task.

In and in the dildo slides, one inch at a time, driving fresh moans and curses from Porsche's lips the deeper it goes. When it's seated all the way inside him, all six inches buried in his hole, Kinn presses a kiss to the crown of Porsche's head.

"Good boy," he murmurs, just loud enough for Porsche to hear. "Are you ready?"

Porsche turns his face, blinking open his eyes to look up at Kinn in confusion.

"Ready for wha--"

Kinn presses the button at the base of the toy, and all at once the dildo comes to life, vibrating furiously inside Porsche's ass.

Porsche's mouth opens and he tries to form words, but no sound escapes him. His head falls back, lolling on Kinn's thigh as the strength in his body deserts him. His eyelids flutter closed.

Kinn presses the button again, and the vibrations kick up a notch.

Like a rubber band stretched too taut, Porsche snaps; his entire body jolts and a cry escapes him that's so filthy and broken it has Kinn's cock throbbing. He thrashes against Kinn, but Kinn holds him down, using his body weight to keep Porsche firmly pinned to the sheets as the toy buzzes furiously inside his ass.

"Kinn!" Porsche screams. "Fuck-- please!"

Kinn angles the toy just right, pressing the vibrating length against Porsche's prostate at just the right angle. Porsche sucks in a desperate gasp like he can't get enough air, and his hips buck wildly under Kinn as he throws his body back and forth, unable to escape the pleasure he's being forced to endure.

Kinn grabs his face and turns it, forcing Porsche to look back at the TV screen, back to the filthy sight of the two men fucking.

"Be a good boy, Porsche," Kinn growls low in his ear. "And watch your porn."

He starts to pull the dildo out, just to halfway, before he thrusts it back in again, hard. Porsche keens, hands clawing at the sheets, but he doesn't look away from the screen, not even as Kinn starts to fuck him properly with the toy.

"Touch yourself," Kinn demands.

It takes a moment for him to obey, but eventually, Porsche slowly reaches for his cock, wrapping his long fingers around it and closing them tight.

"Properly," Kinn growls, giving Porsche's ass a light warning slap.

Porsche's chest heaves in a dry sob as he obeys, his hand gliding up and down the length of his cock. His eyelids flutter, threatening to close, but he keeps them open, keeps them trained on the screen, on the image of the top's cock disappearing into the bottom's hole.

Kinn can't help himself, it's too much, he wraps his free hand around his own cock and squeezes himself tight. It's awkward, he's not using his dominant hand, but he needs the friction.

"Kinn, I-- I'm gonna--"

Kinn fucks the dildo in harder and presses the button one final time, rocketing the vibrations up to their fullest and final setting. Like a damn breaking, Porsche's entire body goes taut, his back arching beautifully, as he comes apart beneath Kinn's hands, spilling hot, white ropes of come into his own fist.

The sight of it undoes Kinn, and with barely a handful of awkward strokes, he's coming too, falling into brief oblivion right after Porsche.

He has the presence of mind to turn the dildo off, when Porsche starts to squirm in discomfort, but he doesn't take it out, not yet. The room falls silent but for the sound of their heavy breathing, and the obscene slap of flesh on flesh coming from the TV.

"Well," Porsche says, finally, his voice half muffled by the sheets. "That was fun."

Kinn presses a kiss to his shoulder, trailing his lips along Porsche's flesh until he reaches his neck, where he gently bites down. Porsche shivers beneath him and tilts his head to give Kinn a better angle.

"Maybe porn's not so bad after all," Kinn says.

Porsche laughs.

#how long even is this wtf #ENJOY IT!!!#i really enjoyed writing it ibwenoiwqbac #kinnporsche #ahdris drabbles

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ser-pendragon · 2 years

Text

the shadows of the trees appear (amidst the lantern light)

(welcome to a gawain and the green knight harringrove au!! title from the mummer’s dance by loreena mckennit)

“Steve, you don’t look good. Like, at all.”

Nancy’s brow furrows with concern as she takes in Steve’s appearance - disheveled, dark circles under his eyes, his usually perfectly styled hair flopping over into his face. Steve huffs.

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Robin chirps. She’s re-shelving movies, making her own little system so she can annoy customers. Steve thinks this month she’s going by color, rather than alphabetical order or genre. He doesn’t really know. Can’t really bring himself to care all that much.

He doesn’t miss the way Nancy is looking at her with a soft fondness in her eyes. She catches him looking and he turns the other way. She knows he won’t say anything.

“Thank you guys,” he huffs, primly, rolling his eyes so hard he thinks he might catch a glimpse of his brain inside his skull. “I hadn’t noticed, it’s very kind of you to point out.”

“Hey, man, we’re only trying to help you out,” Robin quips. “You haven’t done your hair, we gotta make sure you know.”

“Yeah, well -” Steve starts. His head is propped up on his hand and he can feel it starting to give way with each passing second, threatening imminent collapse. He hopes the potential smacking of his head against the table might knock whatever this is outta him. “I haven’t really been sleeping well.”

Nancy immediately fusses over him. She presses a cool hand to his forehead and says, “Are you feeling okay? You shouldn’t come into work if you’re sick Steve!”

Steve bats her hand away. His scowl is a little meaner than he intends it to be, but Nancy doesn’t look too offended. She’s made of stronger stuff.

“I’m fine, Nance. Like I said, I just haven’t been sleeping well. It’s nothing, it’ll pass.”

Nancy doesn’t look convinced, and Steve sees Robin give an exaggerated shrug when Nancy looks her way. But Steve isn’t about to tell them that he’s been dreaming of the Upside Down. Or at least what he thinks is the Upside Down. ‘Cause it sure looks like the Upside Down, but as his dreams progress, they change, and he finds himself lost in a lush forest, with yellow sunlight filtering through the leaves, and old ruins all around him. He always has a feeling of being watched. Sometimes he thinks he hears a voice, whispering through the trees like the wind, speaking in some old language Steve doesn’t recognize.

A few times, he’s seen a silhouette through the trees. Every time he’s tried to get closer, he hears a sharp laugh and the figure moves away. He’s never managed to get close enough to see anything other than the piercing blue eyes that the figure turns on him before disappearing into the shadows of the trees.

He feels like he’s being tested. Taunted.

He always wakes up feeling like he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all, no matter how early he went to bed and how late he woke up.

One night he’d even tried getting so drunk he passed out on the couch in the hopes that he wouldn’t dream and that hadn’t worked. Weed hadn’t worked either. He doesn’t really know what else to do.

“-eve. Steve!”

Steve jolts upright, eyes flying open. Nancy really looks worried now. So does Robin, which means he really must look awful.

“Steve, man, you should go home,” Robin says. It must be bad, if she’s offering to cover the rest of his shift. Shit.

“At least try to get some sleep. You could try chamomile tea, that might help.” Nancy tries. It’s halfhearted and they both know it.

“Thanks, Nance, but I don’t think tea’s gonna cut it.”

Steve’s exhausted. Down to his bones, he’s exhausted. He clocks out and gives a halfhearted goodbye and trudges his way to the Beemer, peels out of the parking lot without so much as a glance back at Family Video. It only takes ten minutes to drive back to his big, empty house, though it feels like it takes longer. By the time he’s shed his work vest and shoes and made his way upstairs, his eyes are heavy and he can feel himself flagging. He prays that when he sleeps this time, that’s all he does. He prays that no dreams come.

He shouldn’t be surprised when they do come. He shouldn’t be surprised when he wakes, gasping, in a place that isn’t his room, on the forest floor instead of his own bed.

He’s never started in the forest before.

Sitting up, he lets himself look around for a few moments, taking in his surroundings. Trees bigger than any he’s ever seen tower above him, and that perpetual golden sunlight filters through the leaves to dapple the forest floor. Crows caw from high in the trees. When Steve peers through the trees, he finds that the forest in the distance is covered in fog.

It’s the same forest, he knows that much. He’s not sure how he knows, but the sheer Presence of the forest feels the same. But the fog is new. The sounds of the crows and the rustling of animals is new. Every other time he’s been here, it’s been silent, except for the voice and the laughter. Steve finds himself straining his ears to try and hear it.

He doesn’t hear anything.

Sighing, he stands and dusts himself off. He’s in the clothes he fell asleep in, his soft sweats and a t shirt that’s too big and full of holes, for a band he doesn’t even listen to. He’s completely barefoot, but he finds that when he stands, the leaves and twigs don’t hurt him.

“What the fuck am I even supposed to be doing here?” He mutters. A sudden, soft breeze whistles through the trees. It tugs at Steve’s shirt and hair, pulling him in the direction of the fog. Steve has a feeling that’s all the hint he’s going to get.

“Fucking of course.”

Steve mutters to himself the entire time he trudges through the forest, if only for the comfort of having some sort of noise. It’s eerily silent once he steps through the fog. Not even the voice is present this time, the laughing, melodious voice that speaks in a language that Steve doesn’t know, but understands the feeling of anyway.

And well. Steve doesn’t really know what to expect here. He’s never gotten any answers outta these dreams, only mindless wandering and a feeling like he’s safe here, safer in these woods that somehow connect to the Upside Down than he is anywhere fucking else.

He sure as hell doesn’t expect the ruins he usually finds himself in to have rebuilt themselves. His breath catches when he sees them, emerging from the fog like something straight out of one of Dustin’s fantasy movies. Steve sort of wishes he’d paid more attention to those. He might have some sort of idea of what to do now.

But the hero usually enters the castle no questions asked. Right?

The door is right there. It looks heavy, made of oak, it’s wrought iron hinges and handle like nothing Steve’s ever seen. It’s nestled in a stone archway, the same stone archway that stood strong even when the mansion itself had long since crumbled. The one that Steve never could make himself walk through.

But now -

Now it calls out to him. He feels it all the way in the marrow of his bones. That breeze blows past him again, the wind singing through the trees, tugging at his clothes once more, and hidden will o’ wisps that he hadn’t noticed before dance around the door itself.

So he goes. He’s never had much of a sense of self preservation. The curiosity outweighs anything else. These dreams have always been the same, unchanging - until today.

“Here goes nothing,” he mutters, stepping forward toward the door. When his hand lights on the heavy handle, the wisps scatter, tickling his cheeks and tugging softly at his hair. Steve pushes at the door and without much effort, it swings forward, the hinges groaning as it does, revealing a grand entry hall. The ceiling towers above him, giving him the sense that this space is bigger on the inside than it appears to be on the outside. He feels small, here, but also so so big. There is a sense of comfort, and somehow, it seems so familiar.

It feels more like a home than his big, empty house in Hawkins, Indiana ever has.

Comforted, he steps forward, toward the grand staircase that splits off in two, leading up to a landing that marks the entrance of what Steve can only assume are long hallways with more rooms than he could count. He knows the basic layout of the mansion, has explored their ruins more times than he can remember - he knows that the house itself is built in a square U shape, around a courtyard that he’s only ever seen in disrepair. He’s always wanted to know what it would’ve looked like before.

So he follows his gut now, traces his steps through the first floor of the mansion, through what looks to be a dining area with a peculiar round table. Each of the thirteen seats are set for a feast, but no one sits there. There is no food, no smells coming from the kitchen. Steve runs a hand over the table and frowns when he sees no sign of dust either.

There have been no sounds from anywhere in the house, no signs of life other than the decor and the furnishings. The only sign that someone lives here is the chaise lounger that Steve passes on his way out of the house. There’s a soft, silken blanket draped over the lounger, and fur-lined pillows, and a book rests on top of it all, face down to keep the reader’s place. An actual fucking goblet sits on the ground, once full of wine but now empty.

The entire place feels frozen in time.

“Who lives here?” Steve wonders aloud, as he steps through a set of double doors left wide open and into the sprawling courtyard.

“I do,” comes a voice, an answer he wasn’t expecting. Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. A tall figure steps out from behind a rose bush, and when he steps into the golden light that streams into the courtyard, Steve’s breath catches in his throat for the second time in less than an hour. The man smirks slightly, as if he’d heard the stall in Steve’s inhale, and Steve’s ears burn. “These are my woods you’ve stumbled into, little deer. And my home.”

“I didn’t mean to ‘stumble into’ your woods,” Steve says, a little snappish. It’s not like he asked for these dreams, he never asked to run around in a strange forest instead of sleeping.

“I never said it was a bad thing, Steve.” The man grins. His golden curls fall into his face, the rest sweeping down over his shoulders. His blue eyes look like ice, and they’re piercing the way snow is in the sun. They notice everything, Steve can tell. The man is strong, broad shouldered, and sure, his movements confident and full of a grace that seems unnatural for any human to possess. He wears a soft, loose white tunic with delicate green and gold embroidery along the collar and the sleeves. The front is open, showing glimpses of a muscled, scarred chest.

“Wait, how do you -?” Steve starts.

“Know your name?” The stranger hums. When he speaks, his voice sounds the way cigarette smoke chased by a shot of his dad’s good whiskey feels. He sidles toward Steve, gaze unmoving from him. “I know a lot about you Steve. You wouldn’t be here, in my forest, in my home, if I didn’t want you here, Stevie.”

Steve can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, alright. Who even are you, anyway? You seem to know everything about me, and I know nothing about you, it’s only fair you tell me your name at least.”

Somehow, the man’s grin gets bigger. Now that he’s in full view, Steve sees that he has a fucking sword belted to his waist. This is insane.

“My name is Billy.”

Billy doesn’t seem inclined to give any more than that, so Steve takes it.

“Billy,” he repeats, a little incredulous. He kinda can’t believe this. This isn’t fucking normal.

“You don’t believe any of this,” Billy says. He hasn’t taken his eyes off Steve. Steve refuses to shrink under the intensity of his gaze. They call him King Steve for a reason.

“No, of course I don’t,” Steve says, his voice pitching embarrassingly high. Billy just chuckles. “Two weeks ago I wasn’t being dragged into a weird forest in my dreams! And this house has never been here before, and I’ve never seen another person here! I’ve barely even seen animals! What the fuck is this place?”

“This place is mine,” says Billy. Steve huffs, ready to argue, but he feels inclined to let Billy speak. “This realm is mine - only accessible to those who know how to find it. You’re here because I willed it. But also because of your heart.” He reaches out to tap Steve’s chest with two fingers.

“So this place really is real,” Steve breathes. Billy laughs, loud and raucous. Steve’s stomach shoots up between his lungs.

“Oh you think it’s just a dream, pretty boy? Nah, it’s all real,” Billy spreads his arms wide. “It’s just only happening to you when you’re asleep.” He levels Steve with a feral grin. “For the moment. See, I didn’t bring you here for no reason at all. I’ve decided to test you.”

“Excuse me?” Steve splutters, taking a step back. “I never wanted to be here in the first place, I sure as fuck don’t want to participate in some test made up by a guy who lives in a forest that isn’t real.”

Billy ignores him.

“I’ve seen you fight in the In Between,” he says cooly. His hand has dropped to the sword at his waist. “I can give you tools to protect those kids you fight for. I haven’t brought you here to hurt you, pretty boy.” His head tilts to the side. It reminds Steve of a cat. “There’s no point in that. No fun. I’m only here to measure the worth of your heart.”

Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. Somehow it’s more insane than what he’s been seeing. But -

“Wait, you know about the Upside Down?”

Billy laughs again. “The Upside Down, that’s what those kids of yours called it. I like that. Yes, I know about the Upside Down. I was there when it was made. It was never supposed to exist, but we should have expected it. As above, so below and all that,” Billy waves a hand dismissively. “We don’t have time for this. You’ll wake soon, I can’t keep you here forever.”

Steve feels like Billy wants to keep him here forever. He finds that the thought doesn’t scare him as much as it should.

“The test is simple,” Billy announces, as if it isn’t just the two of them standing in this open, empty courtyard. Maybe to Billy, they do have an audience, one that Steve certainly can’t see. He pulls the sword from his belt, places it point down against the cobblestones and rests his hands on the pommel. It leaves the sword leaning within Steve’s grasp. He could take it and escape.

“All you have to do is land a blow against me, pretty boy. And in a month’s time, you’ll be right back here, so I can return said blow. How’s that sound?”

“I think that sounds insane, and like I don’t have much of a choice.”

Billy’s expression darkens at that. Becomes unreadable. Steve finds himself stepping back again.

“You always have a choice here, Steve. If you want to walk out the door and leave, you can. You’ll wake up and never see this place again, and I’ll make sure you don’t remember it.”

Something like sadness flashes across the stranger’s face, before he schools it back to careful neutrality. Steve finds that sadness mirrored in his own gut at the thought of never seeing this place again. He makes his decision quickly.

“I’ll take that challenge, then,” he says. He feels brave the way he does when he’s facing down Demodogs in the Upside Down. Billy had said that he would give him tools to keep his friends safe if he did this. And it means he can come back here. He steps forward, his gaze unwavering the way Billy’s has been.

Billy whoops, throws his head back and cackles to the sky. “There we go, Stevie, that’s more like it. I knew there was a fuckin’ fire in you.” The sword in his hand clatters to the ground between them and Billy takes one, two, three steps back. The bushes and grasses of the garden rustle with that gentle wind, a wind that turns fierce as Steve bends to pick up the sword.

It’s not entirely unlike the spiked bat he’s grown so fond of. He gives the sword a few experimental swings, twirls it in his hands to test the weight of it. Billy hasn’t taken his eyes off him.

When Steve looks up at him, his brow furrows. Billy doesn’t have a weapon. He also seems to sense Steve’s question before he asks it.

“Not the point, Steve. The game is you land a blow, and I give one in return in a month. No questions either.”

So Steve shuts his mouth. His hands grip the pommel of the sword tightly, and he has to force himself to relax. Billy’s stood in the center of the circular courtyard, arms spread wide, completely relaxed.

This is just like fighting Demogorgons, Steve thinks. He steels himself.

And rushes forward.

The sword cuts through the air. Steve doesn’t even look at where he’s striking, he just lets instinct guide him.

He feels the resistance as sword meets flesh, meets bone, but still he follows through.

When he looks again, he’s horrified to find that he’s rent Billy’s head clean off his shoulders. He stumbles back, dropping the sword that drips crimson blood over the cobblestones.

And then Billy’s head laughs. His body bends to pick up his head by those golden curls, turning them red as blood drips from the open wound, down his arm and into his hair.

“Nice one, Stevie,” he croons. Steve feels like he might be sick. “See you soon.”

And with the sight of Billy’s hands holding his own grinning severed head, blood pouring from his neck, Steve wakes with a shout.

It’s dark out. The clock on his bedside table reads 3 AM. Steve’s hands clench, and he hisses at the feeling of thorns digging into the soft flesh of his right hand

Looking down, he finds that he’s holding a red red rose. Tied around the stem is a yellowed piece of parchment.

Scrawled on the parchment in neat, swirling writing, the deep green ink standing out from the page are three words.

Miss you already.

Steve finds himself wishing he were back in that forest.

#WHEW #LSKGHSDHGSDG #that took me two days to write lmao #we're starting a new little au lads #for all you arthurian fans #and anyone who likes a little fantasy #this is my specialty y'all so i do hope you enjoy!#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #gawain and the green knight au #cursum perficio verse #the green knight au #my writing

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theacevampire · 2 years

Text

5AM

Pairing: Oikawa x gn!Reader

Genre: angst

Wordcount: ~1.0k

Warnings: mentioned sex

Track: Marshmello, Jonas Brothers – Leave Before You Love Me

A/N: It may not sound like it, but I love him and I hate hurting Oiks, I swear! :D

You were a coward and a hypocrite. You always insisted on solving disagreements and conflicts in person. Not via video calls, not via phone calls and, above all, not via texts. Talking face-to-face avoided misconceptions through miscommunication, keeping these disagreements from turning into full-fledged fights.

That’s also why you always preferred to have that kind of conversation the next day when all parties involved had gotten some sleep and – at best – some food too, so no one would say things they were going to regret later on in the heat of the moment. Communication was key and for you that included everything: from words, over facial expressions, to body language. Hence you never had real fights with the (at least in that regard) likewise level-headed and rational Iwaizumi over the years, as both of you shared the belief it was better to approach differences with calmness and patience.

Oikawa, however, had always been one who wanted to straighten out things as soon as possible – no matter if it was three in the afternoon or three in the morning. Because of this, all your discussions had been resolved over breakfast – a compromise the two of you had found between texting in the middle of the night and talking after you had gotten off work and he off practice – and both of you had grown fond of it by now. Until now.

Your phone’s display lit up and Oikawa’s face appeared on the screen. His smile shone brighter than the sun rising on the horizon on your side of the windshield. With an abrupt move, you put the sun visor down but the sun was still to low to be held back. Angrily, you slammed it back against the car’s ceiling.

The buzzing sound of your phone was the only noise in the stuffy air of your car, not counting its engine, but instead of answering the call, you turned your focus back on the road as the speedometer needle moved further to the right and the scenery rolled by faster than it should.

Conflicts between Oikawa and you had always been solved over breakfast. Always. Except for this one. This one wouldn’t.

Your display tuned black again, only to light up with Oikawa’s smile again, barely two seconds later. Your knuckles turned white as your grip tightened around the steering wheel. It was unfortunate he was already awake. You had hoped he would sleep longer, give you more time to get away from Tokyo.

This time Oikawa gave up earlier and your grip loosened around the synthetic leather, your foot easing its pressure on the gas pedal.

You told yourself it was for the better, that he needed this cut. However, you had to repeat these words over and over like mantra to convince yourself of their truth, because in reality you weren’t sure whether you were doing the right thing by leaving Oikawa like this: secretly, after a sweaty night in the sheets, with only a note on the hotel room’s nightstand.

Maybe it was wrong, but you didn’t know what else to do. All you knew was that accepting Oikawa’s proposition a while back to sleep with each other to blow of some stress had been a mistake.

Both of you had agreed to a no-catching-feelings-policy, so you didn’t think about the risk any further. But feelings are nothing you can control and then happened, what had to happen, leading to you fleeing over the National Route 6 from Tokyo to Sendai.

Last night, on the suite’s balcony, while you were gazing at the stars, he had told you about the deadline to decide whether he wanted to go to Argentina or not nearing and how he still hadn’t made a decision. When you had looked at him in disbelief, asking him what the hell was keeping him from going, he had turned to you, your gazes meeting, with his eyes practically screaming ‘you’ while his lips said, “I’m not sure if I’m good enough.”

Struggling for words, you had only stared at him until he had broken the eye contact to watch the stars again, knowing very well you looked right through his lie, but asking whether you believed in parallel universes instead.

The words had found you a few hours later, when you were tossing and turning in the bed while Oikawa was sleeping soundly next to you.

Tōru Oikawa. Follow your dreams. Go to Argentina. I wish you the best.

Your screen lit up for the third time, reminding you how his contact photo was the contrary of what would await you at the other end of the line you didn’t pick up. Despite his pretty face, he was the definition of ugly crying. And you knew that was waiting for you would answer the call: the crying, the sobs, the broken voice. They would drown out the rustling of paper as his hand clenched around your note.

You didn’t know if parallel universes existed. But if they did, there were probably hundreds, if not thousands or millions of universes where you returned the feelings that were currently starting to bloom in Oikawa’s heart.

In this you didn’t.

When he tried to call you a forth time just seconds after hanging up for the third time, your heart clenched. He wouldn’t stop on his own. He needed you to cut the chord, to start moving on.

Once again, your speedometer climbed higher and higher as the scenery flew by faster with every second. You let down your windows; the air was getting to thick to breath. But the chilly morning air wasn’t helping, you were still a hypocrite. Alas, it was for the better. Losing him as a friend would hurt, but it was better to nip his feelings in the bud, kill them while the pain would still be bearable.

“Hey, Siri. Block ‘Tōru’.”

Tagging: @the-cosmos-network

#oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa #oikawa toru #oikawa 5am #vampire:SSD #vampire:bitsandbytes #vampire:haikyuuOS

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