#also he has big hands but that comes with the long

[suguann]

✎. he tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, but he's also kinda sweet?? [18+ only]

You like your new roommate.

Simon’s surprisingly better to have around than the last person who lived with you—a girl you knew from college who had an affinity for stealing your clothes and conveniently never had money for rent. He’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick, acknowledge you if you’re in the same room, water your flowers while he rolls his cigarettes on the fire escape, and carry your groceries up the four flights of stairs to your floor. 

He’s attractive, too, in the not-so-conventional sense, but in a disarming way, all small smiles and knowing looks and soft hair you know he doesn’t put much effort into—that sometimes curls around his ears when he lets it get too long—yet it still manages to look better than yours on the best days. 

He never tells you what he does for work, and you’re too polite to ask. But you have a feeling he makes enough to afford a place on the less crime-infested side of town—somewhere nicer than your cramped apartment with its outdated appliances, leaky faucets, and the bright neon sign atop the building across the street that shines through your windows all times of the day—but he says he’s not ready to live alone.

Something tells you there’s more to it than him being a lonely bachelor, but again, you don’t pry.

“Does this place have wi-fi?” is all he’d said the first time you meet, in a voice so smooth and only slightly broken up by his accent, clad in a shirt that looked two sizes too small around his arms and clutching a duffle bag in one big hand. 

Your brain was this shaken-up box of words and syllables that when you answered him, it came out in a nervous stutter. “Y-yeah, I’ll, er…I’ll give it to you—the password, I mean—once you've moved in. If that’s okay.”

He’d dropped his duffle bag in front of the room that would be his. “Consider me moved in.”

The smile he gave you, crinkling eyes and chuckling lightly, only made the stutter worse. 

You let his charm roll off you; you always figured it came naturally to him, a characteristic that comes with being attractive and good.

A handful of months later—of finding a routine around each other and lazy smiles in the morning—something changes the night you go out with a guy Mary from work eagerly sets you up with. 

His name’s Robb, he’s a doctor, and you both love cats; he has a house in Spain. Did I mention he's my cousin?

(A dull no way concealed behind your teeth.

If you hadn’t said yes, you feared your entire lunch break would consist of her waxing poetic over a man you're unsure about meeting.)

For a flicker of a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Simon’s face as he watches you touch up your makeup in the hallway mirror and slip your hand into the crook of your date’s elbow at the door. There’s a slight glint of something uncharacteristically cold behind the mask of indifference before a small smile replaces it.

“Have a nice night,” you throw over your shoulder, except you don’t notice that he never says it back.

You mope around the apartment when Robb—who surprisingly exceeded your expectations of mediocre dates, not that you ever plan on admitting that to Mary—doesn’t reach out to you for three days. Then a week. You’re at that age to understand when people get busy, and a nice night doesn’t always mean it’s mutually reciprocated. But you liked him, and it felt promising after he’d kissed you goodnight against your front door. 

It had to have been the kiss that turned him off. Maybe he realized it was too much too soon.

When Simon finds you curled up in a ball under your comforter, one thumb gently wiping away your tears, he doesn’t even bring up your date. Instead, he orders your favorite take-out and puts on a sitcom you’d mentioned to him once—somewhat surprised that he remembers—the dreamy doctor who’d ghosted you blissfully forgotten with greasy food and a warm, comforting chest to rest your head on.

Simon’s there again—sweets in hand and a soft voice to soothe you—when another date (Rin from finance on your floor) a month later is a no-show, and a few weeks after that when Rin tells you without context that he can’t see you anymore. 

The third time of let downs feels worse. It’s worse because maybe there’s something wrong with you, and when you ask Simon, he’s too nice to rub salt in your wounds. He tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

You've been Simon's roommate for a year, and he doesn't take it well when you tell him you're looking for a new place.

It’s after he comes home from a three-month work trip. The shadow that crosses over his face should’ve been your first hint that something is wrong.

Had you noticed the signs sooner, you wonder if you’d be less like prey caught by the softness of your underbelly, kept in place by the scruff, and sharp teeth at your neck.

"Beg me. Beg me not to cum in you."

"S-Simon," you whimper wetly, "don't cum in—ah—me."

His fingers hold your chin with an unyielding grip, ensuring your gaze doesn’t stray from his in the cracked mirror. You’re embarrassed by what you see, how spread open you are to his dark, inkwell eyes hungrily watching as you twitch when his other hand slides between your thighs.

"Don’t stop begging, love,” he growls, squeezing you tighter, “or I might forget."

There’s that dark look again, the one that sends a shivery feeling up your spine, possessive almost with how he traces every inch of you as if burning the image of you into his memory, the softness washed away by something more sinister. 

A little voice in the back of your head tells you to flee, but another knows he'd find joy in catching you. 

No one would ever think your sweet, attractive roommate would be the same man staring at you now—everything you thought you knew about him stripped away to reveal a new canvas, bare for splashes of paint to fill in the cracks—teeth marks imprinted along the curve of your jaw, on the inside of your thighs.

He hides it well. His humble personality doing the trick of being the impenetrable mask for what he’s concealing underneath: a raw obsession, an addict finally getting his hands on his favorite drug, someone who can’t recognize defeat and knows how to take.

“What do they have that I don’t? Hm? Must be a desperate little thing. My pretty slut,” Simon’s voice rumbles low against your ear, shy of unhinged. “They won’t treat you as good as I do. Don’t I treat you good?”

You whimper when his grip grows tighter, but he doesn’t seem to notice—like he’s not fully here with you. No trace of the soft, gentle man who keeps the freezer full of your favorite ice cream, who runs to the store when you run out of tampons and comes back with chocolate and a new pair of fuzzy socks. A few words have turned him into someone you don’t know. Perhaps you never did.

“Answer me.”

An indiscernible  squeak is the only sound you make. 

He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to rest his lips against the fluttering pulse in your neck, a finger slipping through the alarming amount of wetness between your thighs where his cock rends you down the middle, and begins rubbing firm, tight circles over your clit, pulling a moan from your throat. 

“It’s okay, love,” he mumbles, words barely audible above your heartbeat swimming in your ears. “I’ll be everything for you. Everything you need. I’ll show you why I’m better.”

#ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost smut #ghost imagine #cod smut #cod x reader #cod imagine #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #.things i write

[mammonsrockstargf]

"I'm going to kill you,"

"H- hey now, that's, that's not a nice thing to say, now is it?" Mammon stutters, his eyes darting around the room as he nervously giggles. "C'mon, human, do this one thing for me, yeah? Ya owe me!" He continues, and your glare grows more murderous. Your brows are furrowed in disbelief and there's a mean pout on your lips and Mammon's certain that if looks could kill, yours would probably have found some way to steal away his immortality.

Mammon is wearing a chicken costume. Like a full-on costume — a big suit with black feathers attached to it. On the table beside you, there's a big chicken-head mask, with a purple beak and cockscomb, that he's supposed to put on. On his feet are some kind of weird shoes, that are supposed to look like chicken feet.

A new hellfire chicken place is opening in the Devildom, and apparently, Mammon owes the owner money. Now, instead of giving the demon the money, Mammon has traded himself for a much better deal: standing in front of the shop on opening night in said chicken costume, with a sign, urging people to come in.

All is well here, right? Why would you be mad? You get the opportunity to eat chicken while simultaneously watching your favourite demon make an idiot out of himself once again.

Well, unfortunately for you, the chicken place has two mascots. Hence, there's another costume lying on the table beside the chicken mask. It looks like an orc, in your opinion, and consists of a mask with a big, long nose, green skin, and very bushy eyebrows. The body consists of long green limbs, of course, and some sort of black gown. Mammon insists that it's a folklore demon that the restaurant is based on, but you're not exactly convinced.

It seems Mammon has also traded your time as a payment for his debt, and for some reason, he just assumed that you'd go along with it, no questions asked.

"Pleaseeeeeeeee?" he pouts, now realising that you're not giving in easily. "It'll be fun, like one of our heists!" He says and shoots you an ear-to-ear smile, that in any other instance would make your knees go weak, but in this instance just makes your frown deepen.

You're still not convinced. At all.

"How is standing in front of a restaurant an entire night, dressed like an orc-"

"Demon," Mammon corrects.

"-dressed like a demon any fun?" You finish, and Mammon shrugs, his smile still not faltering.

"Cause you'll be with me, obviously," he snickers, and you flick his forehead.

"Fuck off,"

"So you'll do it?"

"Of course, I'll do it." you sigh and grab the weird orc mask on the table. Mammon is practically beaming and he gives your cheek a big smooch. You're still keeping up the annoyed act, and wipe your cheek with the back of your hand. He makes up for this by giving you another smooch. And then another. And a last one just for good measure. You look up at him with pursed lips but can't help it when the corners of your lips turn upwards.

He just looks so incredibly ridiculous in that chicken costume. It makes you want to jump him and kiss him silly. You should probably stand your ground, though. Can't let him think he can just rope you into whatever mischief he wants simply with a couple of kisses. (He can. He absolutely can.)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #ficlets #mammon #obey me mammon #obey me fluff #obey me mammon fluff #obey me swd #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me x you #obey me mammon x you #obey me mammon x mc #obey me x mc #obey me drabble

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three

Dustin looks squirrely, which is as weird as it is nerve wracking for Steve. When Dustin looks squirrely it’s usually shit like he’s keeping a baby fucking demo dog as a pet.

Which Steve just...doesn’t want to deal with it any more. He’s had enough. He needs Dustin to have normal kid shit problems, not apocalyptic ones.

So Steve is, silently, praying to whoever will listen that Dustin wants, like, the sex talk or something, and not that there’s an inter-dimensional creature with a taste for nougat in Hawkins.

“Eddie says he’s okay.”

Which, Steve just kind of shrugs, because it’s the same message Dustin’s been bringing back for months. Nancy and Robin have stopped to listen too. John and Argyle have gone on a snack run and the rest of the kids are outside; so this feels kind of worryingly tactical on Dustin’s part that he’s telling a very select group this information.

“I’m pretty sure he isn’t, though.”

“Okkkayyyy...tell us what’s going on,” Robin leans against the counter, and Steve is so glad Dustin chose to do this with the girls here.

“Well,” and Dustin looks squirrely again and Steve figures he...he thinks he must be betraying Eddie, or something, “I thought he was, at first, you know? He was planning campaigns and writing music and just seemed to be...you know. Normal.”

“But…”

“Well he...the last few times I’ve been there he...he hasn’t gotten out of bed and,” Dustin wrinkles his nose, ready for the big betrayal, “there’s always a lot of empty like, beer cans and stuff and...he smells kind of. Bad.”

The girls looks at each other before Nancy finally says, “we will go and see him, don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

Steve watches as Dustin relaxes, and realizes for the first time that this was, probably, way over Dustin’s pay grade, emotionally speaking. They are the adults, and dealing with someone who...well, it’s got to be depression, right? Eddie was never okay, he was faking to start with. Even Steve can figure that out from what Dustin’s just said. Just because they’ve dealt with alternate dimensions and world ending monsters, it doesn’t mean that Dustin is equipped to deal with shit like this – yeah, definitely heavy stuff for a kid. And Eddie, would Eddie have been able to fake it if say the girls, or Steve, had gone over? Would they have noticed a problem that Dustin just, didn’t? Because for all they’ve been through, they’re still just kids. Dustin might not have noticed that Eddie was dragging himself out of bed and cleaning up just for the one or two hours a week that Dustin was stopping by.

But Robin would have...and Nancy definitely would have.

And now Eddie doesn’t have the energy to just...fake it any more, simple as.

This is heavy shit, too heavy for Dustin to have to deal with.

And that’s how Steve ends up ferrying the girls to the brand new Munson trailer, right at the other end of the park from where the old one was. Nancy’s in full investigative reporter mode, Steve can sense it. Luckily, Robin goes first, " we shouldn't have left him this long."

Nancy hums in agreement.

The doors not locked and no one answers, so they all end up spilling unceremoniously into the bedroom.

Dustin was being kind; it reeks of stale cigarettes and sweat. He was being nice about the beer cans too; it’s not just beer cans, worryingly there’s also empty vodka bottles and even a couple of wine bottles in the mix.

This is not something that has happened recently; this has been going on for months.

The place is a mess. Like a can’t even see the floor kind of mess.

In the middle of his visibly dirty bedding, Eddie snores on, oblivious.

“Steve, you get him in the shower, Robin and I will clean this up.”

Steve’s dubious, but he shakes Eddie’s shoulder gently. Nothing.

He tries again, firmer this time, and Eddie comes awake with an undignified snort and hands flapping at Steve’s, trying to get the movement to stop.

Steve can hear the girls rummaging out in the kitchen, looking for trash bags and rubber gloves, maybe a box for the bottles.

Maybe two boxes.

Steve shakes him again, “Eddie come on.”

Eddie does blink up at him then, clearly groggy and confused, but he smiles. Smiles so big and happy, he grasps one of Steve’s hands now, rather than trying to push it away, still smiling, he pulls it up to his mouth and kisses Steve’s knuckles softly.

Steve doesn’t know what his face is doing, but Eddie’s frowning, something like realization dawns on Eddie’s face, and then throwing Steve’s hand away like it’s burning him. Eddie moves quick, scrambling to the edge of the bed and leaning over it, and Steve realizes what’s about to happen a second too late; Eddie starts to throw up just as Steve moves, so his sneakers do get splattered a little bit.

Which...Steve’s probably trudged through worse, realistically speaking. There’s not really anything Steve can do about it now, so he gingerly sidesteps the splatter of vomit and, briefly, feels really sorry for the girls, “come on Munson, up.”

Eddie grumbles nonsensically, but does allow Steve to heave him up, his head lolling, still clearly very drunk. Eddie doesn’t put up much of a fight when Steve strips him; made easy by the fact that he’s wearing a stained tee shirt and dirty boxers that Steve abandons in a smelly pile on the bathroom floor.

He’s too thin; far too thin. Barely any weight at all on Steve’s arm, ribs all knobbly and skin stretched strangely over his joints.

Eddie slides to the floor under the warm water and Steve, not wanting to get any damper, makes no effort to stop him. At least sitting on the floor he’s safe; he can’t fall any further. Steve vaguely recalls something about little kids being able to drown in an inch of water, and keeps half an eye on Eddie as he digs around for toiletries.

He finds a sad bar of soap and shudders, but it’ll do. Steve gives Eddie the most perfunctory scrub down ever, doing his best not to look at or be aware of any part of Eddie’s body as he flicks the cloth over it.

The towel that’s hanging up looks dubious, but better than nothing.

Eddie’s showing no sign of rousing; Steve has no idea if he’s just...really really drunk still, or if he’s hiding. Steve’s brain prods at what he saw; Eddie’s reaction to him.

There’s one logical conclusion that he’s trying his best to avoid. Unfortunately, no matter how he angles it...his conclusion remains the same. There’s one obvious answer. Eddie looks like a sad drowned rat under the water, and Steve shuts it off, covering him with the one sad towel.

Eddie shivers without the heat of the water, and Steve tries not to feel guilty. This isn’t his fault. He’s not...if Eddie had a Steve, he’s not him. He didn’t, die, or anything. It’s a bit of a headfuck, and thankfully Robin interrupts by shoving the door open far enough to press through a bundle of clothes; black sleep pants and a hoodie, but better than nothing, “there’s no clean clothes, it’s the best we could find,” she whispers.

Which, okay, they’re kind of musty, but at least not obviously dirty.

Eddie huffs through Steve pulling his clothes on, standing awkwardly as Steve pulls his pants up like you would with a little kid.

Steve dumps him on the couch; immediately feeling bad about the whole thing. Guilt, maybe, but he pushes that away harshly because this isn’t Steve’s fault. It’s no one’s fault.

Well, except for the labs and then One. But there’s no one here to blame and it’s...ridiculous that Steve would feel bad about it.

This isn’t the time. Eddie’s passed out again, so Steve gets a glass of water from the kitchen, leaving it on the table where Eddie will find it, before he goes to help the girls.

“We absolutely cannot leave him here.”

“No, agreed, being alone is not good for him.”

“He’s not alone,” Steve protests, “Wayne’s here.”

“And Wayne works twelve hour nights six days a week and has done nothing about this so far,” Nancy replies, brooking no argument, “we’ll take him to yours, he needs to dry out.”

“Mine?” Steve squeaks, “look, uhm, maybe not mine-”

“Why not yours?” Robin cuts him off, “you have the space, and no one else around. I can come and stay, help you keep an eye on him.”

And although all of that is true, Steve doesn’t know how to tell them what he’s just figured out, and having Eddie in his house feels...awkward as fuck.

Eddie’s like a zombie out of one of his games. He has to be encouraged out of bed, Robin putting herself to the task, and that takes a good hour on the really bad days. He picks at toast. He picks at eggs. He picks at whatever's put in front of him.

He doesn’t fight it when they take the spirits away, he doesn’t fight it when he’s allocated three beers a day; he never looks for more. He doesn’t fight anything. He’s broken. So broken Steve has no idea what to do about it. The kids come and go, maintaining conversation around Eddie that Eddie will vaguely engage with whenever one of the kids addresses him directly.

Otherwise he sits there, inert. The kids talk about school and their nerd games and all that normal stuff, and then they leave again.

Sometimes it’s just Eddie and Steve in the house, and that's enough to make Steve want to throw himself into the lake; Eddie’s presence is uncomfortable, and Steve immediately feels guilt every time he feels like that.

Eddie saved their lives. Eddie fought off actual mind control and took out One like it was nothing. Eddie saved the world, at great fucking sacrifice to himself, and Steve feels like a total dipshit every time he has to remind himself of it.

He has to do something for Eddie. He has to try and get through to him somehow.

He has an idea, and when he tells Robin he’s going out for a bit, she doesn’t question it.

Steve delivers Wayne an update when he picks up Eddie’s records. Wayne seems like a good guy, even though he’s completely out of his depth with Eddie, he seems to be able to roll with the punches. He believes the kids want what’s best for Eddie, and that seems to be enough for him for now.

Eddie’s lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, seeing nothing.

Steve picks one of his records at random, ‘Holy Diver. Dio,’ and puts it on the record player on low. He has Eddie’s guitar too, his notebooks, the rule books from his dumb game. Steve brings it all in in bits and pieces and leaves it on the coffee table. He leans Eddie’s guitar against the end of the couch.

By the time he’s finished, Eddie seems more alert; is actually watching Steve. Steve gives him a nod, and leaves him to it.

It changes something. Something undefinable. Eddie seems to be...making an effort. Robin says she thinks he’s coming around; remembering how to be a person. She thinks he’s making a good first step. He still drinks three beers a day, but they’re pretty much the weakest ones available and Steve thinks he’s doing it more out of habit than anything. There’s no other alcohol in the house.

What Steve thinks he knows has been gnawing at him too. Bothering his insides. He understands the girls logic; this is probably the best place for Eddie to be, but given what Steve thinks he’s figured out, this might also be the absolute worst place for Eddie to be.

He feels like he’s haunting him; the dead love of Eddie’s life, following him around every single day. Steve can’t even imagine what that’s like; Eddie even just having to look at him must hurt. Other questions always follow, like, why Steve? Was it random? Eddie must be gay, right?

Was Steve just the easiest one for Eddie’s brain to summon up in the moment? Or was there something else there, feelings that were easy to manipulate? Was there a reason it was Steve, or not?

He could spend hours chasing the thoughts if he let himself. Instead he makes himself and Eddie something to eat, a couple of sandwiches, and then takes them through. He sits, eating his own, and watching as Eddie nibbles on his. Things have moved; even as Steve watches, Eddie puts down the sandwich and scribbles in his notebook.

Steve’s just getting up to leave when he stops at the sound of Eddie clearing his throat, he still won’t look at Steve when he speaks, “thanks, uhm, for getting my stuff.”

It’s been a while since Eddie has spoken to Steve directly, and Steve hesitates a second, feeling like this is his chance to try and...he doesn’t know. Say something meaningful. Fix Eddie, somehow, say the exact right thing to make it better, eventually he just says, “no problem, man.”

Eddie nods, Steve waits in case there's more, but there doesn’t seem to be. He makes it to the kitchen door before Eddie speaks again, “you guys, you’ve probably saved my life.”

He is looking up as Steve now, chewing on the end of his pencil nervously, “you saved ours first,” Steve tells him.

Eddie huffs out the smallest, driest laugh, “didn’t realize it was a competition, Harrington.”

Steve leaves him to it, it’s not much, but it’s a start.

“You had a kid, right? Tell me about them?” It’s a push Steve knows. Their brief conversations turning into the occasional ten minutes on the deck when they both go out for a cigarette might have become regular, but they’re by no means secure. Steve might be about to bring the whole fragile thing down, but he needs to know. It’s eating him alive.

Eddie just shakes his head, ‘no.’ and sips at the beer he has. A beer Steve is pretty sure Eddie should not have, even if it is only a psychological thing, at this point, but Robin continues to be adamant that Eddie going completely cold turkey would be a really bad idea, so Eddie continues to have an allowance.

‘Well, fuck it,’ Steve thinks, ‘might as well try it,’ “come on, they were ours, right?”

Eddie snorts, “she was always more like you than-” he stops, cutting himself off. But it’s all the confirmation Steve needs.

Eddie looks at him then, horrified, before scrambling up.

“Eddie, stop, it’s okay-” Steve tries.

“Fuck you Harrington,” Eddie growls at him with more emotion than Steve's seen in Eddie since the whole thing happened, and then throws the beer bottle, not at Steve, exactly, but close enough that broken glass scatters around his shoe, beer smattering the patio slabs and the smell of it rising to fill Steve’s nose almost immediately.

Eddie stomps into the house, and Steve can hear Robin asking what happened, clearly concerned; she must have heard the bottle smash, “I cannot stay here with him,” Eddie spits, before the moment passes.

Robin comes out a moment later, “Nancy’s with him, what the fuck just happened?”

Steve’s a little stunned by the confirmation and then the close run in with the beer bottle, but regardless he wouldn’t hide this from Robin, “it was me, Robs. The...Eddie’s wife? I guess, not a wife, me.”

@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos @dragonmama76 @lingeringmirth @darkwitchoferie @weirdandabsurd42 @zoeweee @thennic @xiaq @tinyplanet95 @steddieyourself @chrystal-lovee @futuristicunknown86 @grtwdsmwhr @mugloversonly @wonderland-girl143-blog @a-little-unsteddie @marvel-ous-m @ajeff855 @gutterflower77 @thedragonsaunt @xxbottlecapx @hairdryerducks @catateme9 @gleek4twd @jaytriesstrangerthings @rovia2323 @carlajim98 @stevesbipanic @steddiecameraroll @thermofisherscientific @ninjapirateunicorns @whenindoubtb72 @dreamwatch @spectrum-spectre @eddiethehunted @sticknpokelightningbolt @kittycatcrackhead @hawkinshighflunkee @plasticcrotches @metalmunson @rosered93 @p0lybl4nkk @bluexvelvet @nicememerino @semi-precious-stoner @persnicketysquares @bj-freeplay @practicallybegging @yesdangerpls @cryptid-system @nadineseaday @platinum-sunset @bookworm0690 @clockworkballerina

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ao3 writer #steddie dreamed life #pre steddie

[latenightdaydreams]

Ok so first off I'm so obsessed with both your writing and könig right now, I just wanted to get that out, your writing is amazing.

I was wondering if I could request könig with a gn/fem s/o who's a burlesque dancer or stripper? I've started dancing this year and the thought of giving this sweet big boy a lap dance or seeing him in the audience keeps me going lmao (I'm going to be dancing to nicklebacks Animals and carly rae jepsens cut to the feeling in the next two shows I'm in, if you want to use either of those sort of vibes ✌🏽) tysm, lots of love

Thank you!! I love the idea of jealous König having a partner in that industry. he'd be so jealous but also cocky. "Yes, the hottest dancer in the club is MINE."

Gentlemen's Club (fem/gn)

(fem body but no gendered speech)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab body, strip club, lap dance, oral

1.3k word count

💃🏽

.

.

When König got with you, he knew you were a dancer. He’s never had an issue with it aside from minor jealousy, but he understands that is just his own insecurities. He’s never actually seen you dance before, or visited you at work. Today, he was going to change that. König has just gotten back from a seven-month long mission, seven months without his Schatzi. He can’t wait for you to get off of work.

König enters the club. It’s not his vibe. The music is incredibly loud. Flashing lights annoy him, and he hates the type of men these clubs attract. He towers above everyone as he walks through the crowd. His blonde hair pulled back into a man bun as he wears a black suit that compliments his well-toned frame.

As König walks through the club, a dancer approaches him. She’s around 5’10 in heels with red hair in pigtails, her makeup bright and glittery. Her outfit is a neon purple color that glows under the lights. 

“Hey handsome. Are you looking for some company?” She asks, putting a hand on his peck.

He politely and gently removes her hand and looks her in the eyes. “I’m looking for y/n.” 

You’re on-stage dancing with two other girls as you all share the stage. You lean your body back after a spin on a pole; you see a familiar figure that towers over everyone else. With an excited look on your face, you turn around quickly. “König!” 

König walks up to the stage and reaches a hand out to you. He lifts you off the stage and hugs you tightly, your legs wrapping around his waist. His fingers dig into your thighs, feeling your soft flesh poke out through the holes in your fishnets.

“You look so sexy up on that stage, Schatzi.” König leans in and kisses your lips.

“Look at you!” Your lips hungrily kiss every inch of his face. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I miss you too. That’s why I’ve come to look for a…what’s it called?”

“The VIP treatment?” 

“Ja, VIP treatment.” He repeats, smiling at you.

“Okay, put me down and follow me.” You giggle as you’re put down. 

His massive hand slips in yours as you walk him to a private VIP room towards the back of the club. As you walk, men watch your breasts bounce and hips sway. König notices their gazes. He tries his best to not let their stares get to him. Your body is stunning and you’re dressed revealing. Of course they’re looking. If you weren’t his, he would still look.

König lowers his eyes to watch your thighs and ass instead, so he doesn’t let the men ruin his reunion with you. His eyes gaze around the room you bring him into, a large leather sofa against one wall. 

You gently push his chest for him to sit back on the sofa, straddling him as soon as he sits back. His hands like a magnet grasp your ass, moving your hips to grind on his erection. Slowly, he moves his hands lower, trying to stick a finger into your pussy.

“There are cameras, you’ll have to wait for home to touch me like that.” You whisper to him before kissing him more.

“Then let’s give security a show, ja?” 

A soft giggle escapes your lips as he speaks. “You’re so naughty. How about a dance?”

“A dance…a dance would hold me over until you get off work.” König’s hands travel the curve of your plump ass and move up to your back. 

You stand from his lap, his fingers falling from your fleshing leaving him wanting for more. His eyes are glued to the way you stand before him, leaning your body over his and putting your hands on either side of the couch behind him. 

There is a sexual aura about you as you turn a switch in your head and treat König as if he were a paying customer. He sees a new look in your eyes that draws him in. His little Schatzi turned into a little vixen. As you pull away, he leans forward, as if he’s desperate to have you that close to him again.

König chuckles at his own reaction and leans back. His hand moving over his cock to give it some of the friction it’s craving for you right now. The way his pale blue eyes travel across your body makes you tingle. He’s hungry. It’s been almost a full year without you.

Your body moves in a hypnotic motion, hands moving slowly behind you to pull on the bikini string around your back. The fabric pops up to reveal under boob to König. He gazes with anticipation as he watches your hands reach behind your shoulders and let your top fall to the ground. 

“Beautiful…” He whispers once your hardened nipples and full breasts are exposed to him. König can’t help but to lean forward. His large hands reach out to cup your breasts. His thumbs passing over your nipples before you playfully swat his hands away. 

“No touching König. Be a good boy.”

A growl escapes his lips as you hit his hands. He gazes up at you, pupils blown from desire and lust. “I can’t control myself, Schatzi.” With his last inch of will he leans back, continuing to rub his cock.

You stand before him, hips swaying with the music blaring throughout the club. His eyes drop from your breasts to your rear as you slowly back up to him. Your ass widens as you sit on his cock, his erection twitching in his pants. A warmth radiates over his crotch from you sitting on him. 

König’s hands caress your thighs, slipping his fingers between the holes in your fishnets. He has to use all of his self-control to not pull them and rip them off of you. You roll your hips on him, matching the beat on the music. A small groan leaves his lips as he pulls you back to rest on him. 

His lips are hungry as he kisses down your neck, his sharp canines dig into your neck pulling a whimper from you. You lean your body back as he continues to bite down your neck. His hands move up, gliding across your body until he cups your breasts. He pinches your nipples and lets out a tender sigh.

Your hips are still grinding on him causing König to close his eyes and enjoy the moment. He begins to daydream about you bouncing on his cock right now. How the security guards would be beating their meat looking at you getting fucked by his massive dick.

In a fluid motion you move away and off of König. His hands still reach out for you, he hates how good you are at teasing him. Your eyes drop to the bulge in his pants, causing you to bite your lower lip. 

Approaching him, you lift your leg up, resting it on his shoulder. He turns his head and kisses your ankle and leg. 

“Kö Kö, pay attention.” Your tone teasing him.

König turns his head and looks at you. You move the thing fabric of your thong to the side, exposing your waxed pussy to him. König’s jaw drops and stares. He’s been dreaming of that sweet cunt all these months. His eyes watch like a hawk as your fingers move down and begin to rub that tiny little clit.

“Mein Gott…” He reaches out to feel your wetness when you slap his hand away again. His eyes meet you instantly as he shakes his head.

“You can’t touch.”

“Like hell I can’t.” König whispers as he moves forward and grasps your ass, pulling your pussy to his face. He breathes you in before kissing all over your soft lips and clit. Your head drops back in ecstasy as he sticks his tongue out to lap at your cunt.

You grab his bun and hold it tightly as he eats you out. Your leg on his shoulder twitching slightly with every pass. It’s been so long; you’ve missed how his mouth feels. While pleasing you, his hand rubs along his cock, stroking it slowly. He knows they’re being watched, but fuck it. He needs you now.

#konig #konig x reader #konig cod #könig x reader #konig smut #könig cod #könig smut #könig #konig x y/n #könig mw2 #cod smut #konig x reader smut #smut #light smut #könig call of duty #könig x you #konig x you #könig x y/n #konig call of duty

[tracingpatternswrites]

Leather and Cinnamon | Wolfstar Bingo

It's that time of the year again! The @wolfstarbingo2024 is here.

I'm supposed to be working hard on my Big Bang fic so naturally I instead spent the whole day writing 13k words of... well, this.

I've had this idea for a long time and I think I started it over a year ago, but now I finally found the inspiration to finish it (while also crossing off one of my prompts). So here it is.

Title: Leather and Cinnamon Pairing: Wolfstar Rating: E WC: 13.2k Prompt: One night stand Summary: Remus hasn't got laid in a while, but that's okay. That's fine. He's been busy raising a son, thank you very much.

Now, however, Teddy is off to university and when Remus goes to Brighton to drop him off, they stumble over a coffee shop in the south lanes. It's a cosy little place with a barista who has silver eyes and pale skin and an arse to die for.

Remus hasn't got laid in a while, but that's okay. That's fine.

Read on AO3.

Snippet below the cut:

“I’ll order,” Teddy said as they entered the coffee shop, nodding towards a table by the window. “You can take a seat.”

“Oh really?” Remus asked, a little amused. “You’re paying too, then?”

“Obviously not,” Teddy remarked casually. “I’m a poor student, remember?”

“Sometimes I think you just spend time with me for my wallet.” Remus sighed wistfully but Teddy merely grinned at him, snapping his fingers.

“Money, please.”

“Maybe I want to order,” Remus said, but Teddy was already snatching the note from his fingers.

“Please,” Teddy scoffed. “Like I’d trust you with my order.”

Remus looked fondly as his son sauntered off towards the bar, unable not to smile to himself. He honestly couldn’t get his head around the fact that he had an 18-year-old son who was now heading off to university all on his own.

It had felt bittersweet, packing up Teddy’s boyhood room. He knew the day would come eventually, and even though he was excited for his son, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad as well. They had driven down to Brighton together, their old little car stuffed full of (almost) everything that Teddy would need for the coming few months.

They had spent the day getting his room in order before Remus decided it was time for him to head back home. Teddy had agreed to a coffee before he left though, and Remus was set on making the most of the time he had left with his son while he still had the chance.

The café they had picked was in the south Lanes and had a bright red door with rainbow flags decorating the windows. It was the name that had drawn Remus in though, Baskerville’s Hound written in bold letters over the painting of a big, black dog.

The place itself was cosy enough, with paintings decorating the walls together with black and white photographs of Brighton and random people. The walls were painted in a dark blue colour and the furniture was all mismatched and clearly second hand, but still in good shape.

Teddy returned without drinks, pulling out the chair opposite Remus and slumping down on it, shrugging as Remus raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“They’ll bring it out,” he said, slouching back on his chair.

“Any chance you got a change on that twenty?”

“Sorry.” Teddy grinned at him, pushing a hand through his longish hair, currently a bright orange. Remus had long since accepted that Teddy opted to change his hair colour as often as other people changed clothes, and he enjoyed seeing him explore. “Consider it a contribution towards your only child’s education.”

“Ah, yes, never mind the 9K tuition fee,” Remus deadpanned. “It’s the change on the coffee that’s going to make the real difference.”

“I’ll need pocket money.”

The corner of Remus’ mouth twitched. “You need money for beer, you mean.”

Teddy threw his arms out. “It’s uni life, Da.”

Remus snorted just as the barista approached the table, clearing his throat.

“A latte with a dash of cinnamon and…whatever this monstrosity is,” the barista said, and Remus tore his gaze away from his son to the man standing next to their table.

Remus found himself doing a double-take at the sight of him. He didn’t know why he’d expected a student, but this man looked to be roughly his age. He was tall, muscular, with tattooed arms and wearing a simple white tee-shirt underneath a light apron with a large black dog printed on the front of it.

There was the hint of a stubble over his very chiselled jaw, high cheekbones and long, black hair pulled back in a ponytail. It was his eyes, however, that caught Remus’ attention. They were a light sort of grey that reminded Remus of silver, seemingly drawing in the light around them. They were dancing with something that looked like amusement as Teddy sat up excitedly.

“That’s mine,” Teddy said eagerly, reaching for the tall glass topped with a hefty dollop of whipped cream. “Cheers, mate.”

“I take it you’re the sensible one then,” the man said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he turned his gaze on Remus, placing the mug in front of him with a little wink. “Enjoy.”

Remus couldn’t help staring as the man walked away, gaze taking in the dark jeans and heavy boots.

“Earth to Da!”

Teddy’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he flinched, accidentally burning his hand as his coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug.

“Fuck,” he hissed, grabbing a napkin to wipe up his spill and when he looked back up, Teddy was watching him with a mischievous sort of twinkle in his eyes.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Remus replied quickly, clearing his throat as his voice came out weirdly rough. “Fine.”

“I said, are you coming down with Ma next week?”

“Oh,” Remus said, taking a sip from his coffee to distract himself momentarily. “Dunno, mate. D’you want me to?”

“You don’t have to,” Teddy shrugged. “It’s just cause she couldn’t be here this weekend.”

“Right,” Remus nodded. “I’ll be there if you want me to.”

Teddy waved it off, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it made a chirping noise.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, eyes on the display as he quickly tapped out a message. “Aoife says there’s a group heading to the pub tonight.”

“That sounds like fun,” replied Remus as his gaze darted over to the bar, just briefly, catching on the man who was wiping down glasses and humming to himself, the muscles in his arms flexing. “You should go with them, make some friends.”

He only tore his gaze away from the man as he heard Teddy’s snort, and his son was watching him with an unimpressed sort of expression.

“What?”

“Make some friends?” he echoed, pulling a face. “It’s not pre-school, Da. It’s uni.”

“What?” asked Remus, a little affronted. “You don’t make friends at university?”

“No,” Teddy said assuredly. “You just…get to know people. Hang out.”

“Right,” Remus said, giving a solemn nod. “My bad. You should go with them and hang out then.”

Teddy rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath before he turned his attention back to his phone, and Remus pressed his lips together so that he wouldn’t smile. His eyes darted briefly back towards the bar, where the man was now stacking mugs.

It would be in Brighton where a random barista looked like he’d stepped right out of one of Remus’ wet dreams. He looked exactly like the type Remus would have been madly in love with when he was younger, and, it turned out, his taste hadn’t changed that much since then.

Remus hadn’t dated much in the past few years as Teddy was growing up. It wasn’t that it had been impossible, Dora had managed to move on just fine after their amicable split, and her dating life had never affected Teddy badly, he just hadn’t prioritised it. Ever since Teddy had moved in with him full-time when he was fifteen, Remus put his own dating life on a shelf.

Dora had told him he was being ridiculous, that Teddy was more than capable of handling his dad dating, and Teddy had even told him so himself. He’d even encouraged Remus to get out there, claiming that it would do him good to get laid. It wasn’t a lie, Remus knew that, but he had simply prioritised raising his son over hookups.

He knew it would be different now though, with Teddy off to university and Remus alone in their house. They had been joking about it, and Remus was happy that Teddy was starting his own life as a young adult, but he couldn’t deny that it would be strange.

He and Dora had been so young when they became parents. She had still been at university, and he had only just completed his Bachelor's Degree. He’d been a parent for all of his 20s and almost all of his 30s, it felt wild thinking that he was approaching his 40s with more independence than he’d had in a long while.

“Right, I gotta go,” Teddy said suddenly, his voice yanking Remus out of his thoughts. “Sorry, Da.”

Remus shook his head, smiling a little as he stood. “Don’t worry about it. Time for me to head back home anyway.”

Teddy nodded, watching him for a moment, his blue eyes searching over Remus’ face and he looked so serious suddenly.

“Are you sure that you’ll be okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Remus couldn’t help but smile a little at the troubled look on his son’s face, the half-grimace as he gave a brief shrug.

“I’ll be fine, Da.”

“So will I,” Remus replied, smiling a little as he pulled his son close for a hug. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Can’t help it,” Teddy muttered against the crook of his neck before Remus released him. “I worry about you all alone in that house.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Remus said as he clasped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I used to have a life before you, y’know.”

“Barely,” Teddy replied with a snort, the corner of the boy’s mouth quirking upwards as Remus swatted lightly at him.

“Oi, don’t get cheeky.”

Teddy laughed, seemingly unfazed as he leaned a little closer, stage-whispering, “You could always stay and chat up the barista, eh? I can see you ogling him.”

Remus had a horrible feeling as he was blushing as Teddy threw a meaningful look towards the man behind the counter and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Continue on AO3.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar bingo 2024 #prompt: one night stand #teddy lupin #muggle au #coffee shop au #my writing

[ghettogirly]

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒!

authors note: please reblog and like so others can see! Hope you enjoy!!

[🕷️] 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄:

🕷️ - He would be very keen on spending time together one on one especially during his time in the cartel where it’s unknown if there will be another tomorrow.

🕷️- I think he would love staying inside his villa with you and enjoying a nice home meal while watching a movie.

🕷️- He would love giving you self defence lessons and training you in the gym, especially since that’s his element. This man would have a whole training and diet plan already made for you.

🕷️- Armando would try take you out every now and then, maybe to go shopping or for a nice dinner just to give you a feeling of a relatively normal life. He wouldn’t do this often though, probably only doing this for anniversaries as he wouldn’t want to place you in any danger.

🕷️- He would enjoy coming back home after some business he had to handle whether that was securing a deal or carrying out an execution, to see you sleeping in your shared bed. This would give him a sense of security and also spend some quality time of sleeping together.

[🕷️] 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇:

🕷️- He would not be someone to do public display of affection. The thought of someone seeing him be vulnerable with you would probably cause trouble.

🕷️- The only display of affection he would do would be longing stares at you if you walk past him, sneaky winks or he would hold your fingertips as you talk to him, making sure to hold eye contact with you.

🕷️- It would be a struggle at first to make him initiate affection as he grew up without parents. An incarcerated mother and a dad he grew up to hate? A whole lot of issues.

🕷️- However, he would eventually warm up to the idea.

🕷️-Behind closed doors, he would love wrapping his arms around you and hugging you as it gives him the satisfaction of protecting you.

🕷️- He would also love giving you slow, passionate kisses. (depending on his mood) The type to make you and him both, longing for more.

🕷️- however if he’s angry, you already know he’s going to be grabbing your face and forcing you into a heated, passionate kiss. His hands exploring your body as he releases his frustrations.

[🕷️] 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

🕷️- He would openly compliment your superficial things such as your clothes, hair or makeup.

🕷️- However, getting something beneath the surface level for him would be tough.

🕷️- He’s overly critical and cynical of the world, believing evil things happen to everyone and that you never really know someone’s true self.

🕷️- However, his perception quickly changed when he met you.

🕷️- You showed him something different, a breath of fresh air. He loved the way you carried yourself, holding yourself with grace but not hesitant to assert yourself.

🕷️- One day he would say, “I really admire your character baby.”

🕷️- You would look at him in shock, not hearing those words before and quite frankly caught off guard at his sensitive words. Nevertheless you would smile and reply, “I learnt it all from you.”

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

🕷️- This wouldn’t really be a big one for him.

🕷️- I believe he would expect you to be able to do things for yourself, he wouldn’t be able to care for you, himself and his cartel as well. He would get frustrated at your lack of ability to be able to care for yourself.

🕷️- However, if you ever get hurt or sick you can bet on it that he’s taking care of you.

🕷️- He wouldn’t let anyone help you, only him.

🕷️- He would change your dressings or help you take your medication. Even bring you soup for your sore throat.

🕷️- He would help clean up around the bedroom and help you do basic tasks again.

🕷️- He has maids for the rest, so what’s the point.

[🕷️] 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆:

🕷️- Armando wouldn’t really get you surprise gifts, he would much prefer to give you money and allow you to buy your own.

🕷️- He would surprise you with an amount of cash and then you can buy what you want.

🕷️- Sometimes he’ll come back with a new necklace for you that has his initials or the name of his cartel, just to let other know that you’re claimed.

🕷️- If it was your birthday, you can bet the whole mansion would be decorated and there would be a private jet awaiting you, ready to take you on a holiday resort.

#imagines #reactions #headcanon #armando aretas #jacob scipio #bad boys #ride or die #badboys ride or die #Armando Lowry #Aretas Cartel #love languages #fanfic #fanfiction #fake #headcannons #ghettogirly

[joanvisitsrome]

LUNCH ch.3 b.e

HELLOOOOO YOU GUYSSS

I have finished chapter 3 and am so excited for you guys to read it! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, comment on this post! The next chapter may be longer since I will be putting out a Hazel Callahan fic soon.

Summary: Billie and Reader hang out for the first time

Contains: FLUFFFFFF, cuddling, pining, cute shit, questioning!billie, smut in later chapters (sorry for making yall wait 😇)

After getting off of the phone with Billie, she sent you the address to her house. You throw on a pair of pajama pants and a tank top, along with a sweatshirt on top. You brush your still-wet hair out of your face and get in your car to drive over. When you turn on the radio, a funky song comes on. The beat, although it’s playing quietly, almost drives into your soul. It’s a short drive, and in no time, you’re at Billie’s house, the song still playing. You turn off your car and walk up to her front door with two pint cartons of the vegan ice cream you were telling Billie about.

               You ring the doorbell and immediately hear barking.

               “Don’t worry Shark! It’s not the stalker this time… I hope,” Billie says, looking through a curtain to make sure it was you before opening the door. Her long hair fell on her shoulders and cascaded to her waist, some of it sticking to her shirt, which had angels on it and was rather tight on her body. For pants, she wore a pair of jorts with a rainbow belt. Her piercing blue eyes looked into yours, and crinkled a bit as she smiled. Her smile grew even more as you handed her the ice cream. Realizing that she hadn’t let you in, she held the door open and extended her arm to welcome you in. You nervously enter the large house, and shark approaches you immediately. He sniffs you, taking in your smell and making sure you don’t have anything that could hurt Billie. You turn to Billie, who is walking to the kitchen to put the ice cream in the freezer.

               “Billie, can I pet Shark?” you ask.

               “Oh yeah, of course! Just don’t pet him too much, or he’ll never leave you.” You crouch down and pet Shark as you wait for Billie to come back from the kitchen. He wags his tail and barks, happy from you petting him.

               Billie exits the kitchen and comes back to you.

               “Alright babes, let’s go to my room. My couch isn’t the best to uhh… lie down on, and my bed is a lot more comfortable,” she explains quickly. She grabs your arm and leads you upstairs to her room. She has black bedsheets, her red Louis Vuitton throw blanket on top. She’s turned on a diffuser, which is producing a wooden, musky scent, similar to hers. The TV is large, and is on the wall across from the bed. You look around at her bedroom, amazed by how nice it looks compared to yours. You see a big trash bag on the floor, very filled to the brim. Billie catches your gaze at the bag.

               “Oh, those are some clothes I was thinking of donating. I don’t really wear them anymore, and I’d rather have someone else wear and appreciate them than let them collect dust. You could look at them if you’d like,” she explains.

               “Maybe later. Why don’t we start an episode?” you ask.

               “Yeah! Just get yourself comfortable. Is the room temperature okay?” you do have to admit, it is a bit cold in Billie’s house. Maybe it was the cold marble floors, or the rainy day.

               “It’s a bit cold. But don’t worry, I’ll survive,” you answer. Billie insists that she brings the thermostat up a few degrees. She then sits down on the bed, where you already are, and turns on the TV. She loads the episode she is currently on, which coincidentally, is also your favorite episode. You excitedly turn to Billie and tell her so. She gazes and smiles gently as you explain the importance of this episode to her. The episode starts and you stop talking, so that Billie can see what’s happening in the episode, remembering she hasn’t seen this series before.

               “Hey, why did you stop talking?” she asks you.

               “Oh, I thought you’d want to pay attention to the episode.”

               “Why do you think I invited you here? To not talk during the episode? Plus, it’s cute when you talk like that, all excited.”  You blush profusely, enamored by her seemingly-nonchalant comment. You look over at her.

               “Okay Billie, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She puts her arm on her shoulder, causing you to turn around.

               “I won’t, babes. Come here.” She guides you with your shoulder to get closer to her. Taking the hint, you snuggle up to her, placing your head on her chest and draping your leg over both of hers. She scratches your hair gently as the show continues. You both laugh and talk the whole time, half-paying attention to the show, and half-in the moment as you two cuddle. You end up playing another episode since the two of you were having such a good time. You realize that the heating must have kicked in in the room, since you feel yourself heating up. You sit up to take off your hoodie, showing the tank top you put underneath.

               Billie looks at you, and realizes after a few very long seconds that she’s staring at you. She snaps out of it rather quickly and welcomes you into her arms again as the show continues. She even pulls her Louis Vuitton blanket over the two of you as you navigate a third episode with her. You don’t realize it, but you fall asleep after a while. You snap awake to the loud Netflix opening sound.

               “Did I fall asleep?” you ask sleepily to Billie, looking up at her.

               “Mm, yeah. But you looked like you needed the sleep so I didn’t want to wake you.”

               “I should probably get home, honestly,” You say, sitting up slowly, “it’s getting late anyway.”

               “NO! No. Stay.”

               “Oh okay. Do you have like a guest room?”

               “You can sleep here if you’d like.”

               “And where are YOU going to sleep?”

               “Who said we couldn’t sleep in the same bed? You were JUST napping on me.” You lay your head down on Billie’s chest again, and you feel her fingertips tracing circles on your arm. You honestly couldn’t feel any happier. A deep pit settled in your stomach. She’s still straight. You knew she wouldn’t like you like that, and that this was all just purely platonic. Her long hair, wooden-vanilla scent, and ocean eyes would belong to someone else that wasn’t you. You decided though, to be in the moment for now, and appreciate being with her now.

               The next morning, Billie made the two of you vegan pancakes before waving you goodbye and making sure you exited her driveway safely. She went inside her house right after, and dialed the phone to call her brother.

“Hey, Finneas, I think I like girls.”

taglist: @hotgirlphilosopher

@jellasposts @iluvtaivan @baddestbittyontheblock @alissialg @ultraultron3000 @thecatwhodreams @fl0r3ncewifey @evilscreams009 @spencerreidmarrymepls @moonxytcn @dandelions4us @kkthecutie123 @justtr @mariswift2 @natspbnj @angielovebillie @bianchiniomg @honeywolflower8364 @brbblog123 @thelesbianapollokid4 @sage-rose2000 @babygaydemon @ranadancewithstars @mercurial0cenobite @ctamemolenoizo @alexawhatstheweathertoday @worrydariing @ iwishiwasyourgirll17 @theskinnyfatman @deluluchani @hsfallingsky @itsemilyhayden @goobergabs @lucillespeace @toorandomforthis @toorandomforthis @beckylynch-alexmorgan @devynscomet

@luvjanexx @hotgirlphilosopher @bipstargirl @nashcar23 @batzerfly @iknowhowtobend @inezs-rumors @noonecanknow67 @williamsonnawfc @00000000jk @user137296291 @vaelzz @loverofwordsandart @whoowoo

#fanfic #billie eilish #lunch #hit me hard and soft #billie eilish x reader #fluff #lesbian #pride #smut #wlw

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Hi since I know Sanji is your husband ; how about A , b , I , k , l for him please 💗 👀😈

It's funny, even though he's my husband, I almost never write him as a yandere lol

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

God, how doesn't he show his affection? He's always got a hand on you when he isn't cooking, he acts as if you'll perish if he doesn't kiss you every five minutes, he's constantly doing your work for you, and, of course, he makes all of your meals and snacks. You don't have to lift a finger with him around. On top of that, you don't go a day without him singing your praise or showering you with compliments.

He's also a big fan of taking you shopping. He loves to pick out new clothes for you that he thinks will further add to your beauty. Anything that you so much as glance at will be yours.

The never ending onslaught of love and affection is suffocating to say the least. Sanji loves intensely. He's desperate to make you feel loved, and it never occurs to him that he's going too far or that you may not even want it.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

There is nothing that he won't do in the name if protecting his darling. He doesn't care how messy it gets so long as that means that you'll be out of harm's way. He will try to make it quick, though. Not out of mercy, but because he wants to get back to you as soon as possible.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

This man is constantly fantasizing about his future with you, and he has no problem telling you about it. As much as he loves being a part of the Straw Hats, he does want to find a place to settle down with you after Luffy has become the pirate king and the crew has decided to retire from piracy. Ideally, this home would be in the All Blue and be a floating craft that doubles as a restaurant like the Baratie. He talks ceaselessly about how much fun it will be to decorate it with you and make it your home. Any opposition you have to this is severely downplayed or misinterpreted into something else entirely because Sanji is the reigning king of being delusional.

More likely than not, you guys will be married within a year of meeting. Sanji is desperate to be your husband and spends all of your relationship trying to prove to you what a good husband he will be. Can't you see how doting and caring he is? Doesn't that make you want to grow old with him?

Sanji is extremely eager to have children. Like having a baby before the first anniversary levels of excitement. Every time he sees a child in public or you interact with one, he's dropping very blatant hints about you two having one of your own some day. You two will have children some day, it's an inevitability. And refusal on your part is taken as you just being nervous and needing a little persuasion.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He acts completely whipped. He's the most lovesick man the world has ever seen. The man will kiss your feet if you don't kick him away. He's constantly finding any opportunity he can to hug and kiss you. If your back isn't to a wall, he's hugging you from behind and taking the opportunity to smell your hair.

Of course, he's also making you food around the clock. If you were skinny when you met him, you won't be for long. He acts as if hearing your stomach growl is what failure sounds like. You get an extra large portion for each meal, and he's constantly bombarding you with snack in between meals.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He comes on strong and unrelenting. You're his beloved, perfect god(dess), and he is not going to let you slip between his fingers. He gets you extravagant bouquets every time you're on land, and he'll usually buy you a few other gifts while he's at it. He'll wax poetic about how perfect you are and how much he loves you for hours on end. You're under a full frontal assault of love bombing with no end in sight. This is also the point when he starts doing the food thing mentioned in the previous letter.

#sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #one piece #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #reader insert #x reader #yandere alphabet

[sentientgolfball]

Can't Get Enough

So the anniversary of my first fic is on the 23rd and to celebrate here's a Rulti fic. Rain/Swiss was the first pairing I ever wrote for and it's interesting to see how far I've come in just a year.

Special thanks to @jesusbutbetterrr for the idea ! Also @hypnoneghoul @revengeghoulette come get your food!

Read here or on Ao3

Word Count: 4142

Tags: GILLS, intox, water ghouls are wet, this is the like the only time I've written sub Rain and I am in awe

Summary: Rain and Swiss disappear to the greenhouse to partake in their stormy night ritual.

The sky had been overcast all day. Dark clouds sat heavy, a slight chill in the air. The scent of rain was so thick even the Siblings could smell it. Despite the dreary conditions, the clouds did not break until past sunset. It began softly, a gentle patter against the windows; before long though, it turned into a downpour. Rain and Swiss had snuck off to the greenhouse when the first drop fell. 

Now they are laid out on the beat up old mattress Mountain keeps around for winter naps. Fairy lights provide a soft orange glow to the otherwise dark building. The occasional flash of lightning acts as the only other light source. 

This is their ritual. When the air finally turns warm and frost turns to dew, Rain and Swiss will end up at the greenhouse whenever there is a storm. It gives Swiss space to relax. Storms always give him a strong surge of energy, one that usually leaves him with a migraine. The curse of housing multiple elements in one vessel. It gives Rain a place to be immersed in his element while also avoiding the chill that causes an ache in every joint. Coming to the greenhouse together lets them still have company when they need away from the whole pack. 

The first time had been an accident. It was a big storm, one that cut the power from the Ministry and left a multitude of fallen tree limbs. Swiss had needed to get outside before lightning exploded out of his body. He had no idea what was happening, his elements had never surged like this in the Pits before. Rain was letting the storm fuel him, ignoring the ache in favor of letting out massive bursts of water magick. It was the most fun he had had so far in his short time Topside. They ran into each other when the storm got so severe even they knew they needed to get back inside. They both ducked into the greenhouse instead of going to the den for the same reason. They weren’t ready for it to end. They hadn’t known each other very well back then, so they sat on the dirt floor and talked until pain zapped through Swiss’ skull and he nearly collapsed. When the storm passed and Swiss’ pain went away, Rain asked if they could do that again; sit and talk while they watched their element. 

Sometimes it's soft and sweet, like that first night. Sometimes they break into Mountain’s secret stash and smoke until time melts away into honey. Sometimes they fuck until one of them bleeds. Most of the time, it’s a combination. Tonight is no exception. 

They have one of Mountain’s tins sitting in between them on the mattress. Their legs and tails intertwine as they pass the joint back and forth, giggling about nothing and everything. Swiss takes it back from Rain, inhaling deeply and holding for a few moments before blowing the smoke toward the ceiling. He laughs and runs his hand over his face. 

“Fuck this shit is good. It’s cruel and unusual that he hides this from us.” Swiss takes another hit before passing it back to Rain. 

Rain coughs when he exhales, batting the smoke away from his face, “Why don’t you get him to show you how he does it? You’ve got some earth in you.” Rain takes a drink from the bottle of blackberry wine by his feet, also stolen from Mountain’s stash. 

“Oh believe me rainstorm, I’ve tried. Bastard likes to keep his secrets.” He snatches the bottle from Rain’s hands the moment it’s away from his lips which are now stained a delicious deep red. 

Any protests Rain has die on his tongue when he looks at Swiss. He can’t seem to be annoyed that he’s basically chugging the damn thing, too transfixed watching his throat bob with each gulp. He wants to reach out and touch, feel it move. He wants to lick over his neck and feel Swiss swallow on his tongue. Wants to feel the prickle of his stubble, the sting of fangs. Wants to drown in his sweet and spicy taste, utterly consumed by Swiss. He can’t help it, the weed always gets to him. Rain swears Mountain laces the stuff with aphrodisiacs. It doesn’t help that he can still feel the thrum of energy in his veins through the haze of smoke. He begins to lean closer when a flash of lightning startles him, making him jump back. 

“See something you like, rainstorm?” Swiss laughs and looks towards Rain. His eyes glow when a rumble of thunder shakes the greenhouse. 

They stare at each other for a moment. It's quiet save for the storm and their breathing. Swiss grins and leans in close to him. He stops just a few inches away from Rain’s face. Rain has to cross his eyes to keep staring at him. He can feel his breath. He smells sweet and herbaceous when he opens his mouth, his usual spice covered by the wine. Rain closes his eyes, waiting for the crash of his lips. 

“Your eyes are red,” Swiss giggles before closing the last remaining inches. Only he doesn’t kiss him, he boops his nose to Rain’s and makes a honk noise. He throws his head back with a laugh almost as loud as the thunder outside. Rain huffs and tries to push him away. Swiss doesn’t budge, he’s still laughing as he wraps his hands around Rain’s wrists. He doesn’t try to remove them or push back, he just holds them. 

“Don’t be pouty princess, you know I won’t leave you hanging.” 

“Liar,” Rain snaps his fangs “I can count all the times you’ve stuck your tongue down my throat and then left.” 

Swiss laughs at the same time lighting cracks through the sky. It illuminates him, for a millisecond more of his ghoulish features are visible. 

“What can I say? Sometimes the chase is better than the reward.” Swiss suddenly yanks on Rain’s wrists, causing him to fall forward and practically face plant onto Swiss’ chest, “But not here. You always look so cute with that pretty little blush of yours.” 

Rain hadn’t even realized. He doesn’t feel the heat in his cheeks until Swiss points it out. He can feel it get deeper, spreading down his throat when his brain finally catches up. He feels like he’s burning when Swiss cups his face with both hands to force him to look up. 

“Wanna know why I love coming out here with you and no one else?” 

Rain nods. He can’t find his words. Not when his limbs feel heavy and his mind is fuzzy. Not when Swiss’ eyes burn so bright he swears he can see every elemental color in them. He can’t tell if his mouth is dry from the weed or Swiss’ proximity. He doesn’t even realize his mouth is slightly agape until he feels Swiss rub his thumb over his bottom lip. 

“Because I love seeing you like this. Big bad rainstorm too stupid he can’t even ask for what he wants.” 

Rain swallows, throat clicking as his honey filled mind processes Swiss’ words. He can feel the drool in the corner of his mouth. He knows he needs to say or do something but mind and body refuse to cooperate. He can’t look away from Swiss, he doesn’t want to. He’s only brought back into himself when he feels Swiss’ thumb brush the dribble of drool away. He wants to turn his head, get his fingers into his mouth to suck on them. All he can do is let out a wheezing breath, something more akin to a whine than a sigh. 

Swiss waits. He waits for Rain to do anything. He truly does love it when Rain gets like this. Needy in a way he’d never let himself be completely sober. Always has to be in charge even when he’s on the bottom. He enjoys it when Rain is cruel, but this is special. Little bit of wine, little bit of weed gets him so sensitive. Swiss sometimes wonders if he’s faking all the little whimpers he chokes on. It’s captivating, addicting, watching how everything he knows about Rain gets flipped. 

Rain swallows again. Swiss can feel his throat bob from the hold he has on his cheeks. 

“Gonna say something, princess?” 

“Please…”

“Please what?” Swiss tilts his head, grinning wide. 

Rain’s lips move without the words. He knows what he wants. He wants everything Swiss has to offer. He wants to be distracted from the hum of elemental energy by more than just drugs. But his head is so hazy he can barely get the words out. 

“Lips. Mouth. Kiss…please?” 

Swiss huffs a laugh before pulling him in. It’s soft at first, a simple press of lips. Rain still clings to him like he’s being devoured, hands twisting in Swiss’ tank top. He wants to draw it out, really make Rain shake, but the weed and the weather make his resolve slip. The kiss turns hungry fast, a cycle of pulling back an inch just to press back in. Lips meeting lips over and over again with a satisfying wet click. 

Swiss kisses Rain hard one last time before licking across the seam of his mouth. Rain doesn’t hesitate to let him in, groaning when the tip of Swiss’ tongues swirls around his. Rain feels the bead of Swiss’ piercing slip between the fork in his tongue and he nearly doubles over. He tries to lick into Swiss’ mouth with the same hunger, but it feels like his tongue is made of lead. All he can do is tilt his head, open his mouth a little wider, and let him taste. 

Swiss pulls back just enough to bite Rain’s bottom lip before plunging back in, licking over his fangs. Rain’s cock kicks and he suddenly becomes very aware of how hard he is. He uncurls a hand from Swiss’ tank top in favor of palming himself through the sweats he stole from Cirrus. He gasps into Swiss’ mouth the moment his hand touches his cock. So sensitive even through layers of clothing. 

Swiss knows he shouldn’t, knows Rain will just pout and whine and paw at him until he gives back in. He can’t help himself though. He loves seeing the flash of fear in his eyes, truly believing he won’t give him what he needs with his mind muddled with weed. Swiss grabs Rain’s wrist, holding him still the same moment he pulls away from the kiss. 

“Ah ah ah,” he tuts, “not yet, rainstorm.” 

There it is. The wide, almost panicked look in his eyes. He feels the hand still clutching his tank top tighten, claws scraping against his skin. The sting causes a zap of electricity to shoot down his spine. He gets dizzy with arousal for just a moment. He growls, nearly abandoning his little plan in favor of pouncing on Rain. Maybe Mountain really does lace this stuff? 

It’s a high-pitched whine that brings him back. His eyes refocus, looking down at Rain. His lips are shiny and swollen, parted slightly as he breathes through his mouth in quick short huffs. There’s a pinch between his eyebrows that Swiss can help but reach up and smooth out. 

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give it to you. There’s just something you have to do first.” 

“Please,” Rain begs, “anything. Please just need you.” 

Swiss smiles and fishes the half-smoked joint out of the tin. He wiggles it in front of Rain’s face. 

“You gotta finish it Rainy. Can’t let Mountain know we were here.” 

He knows Mountain will know. They both do. It’s rare they make it back to the den after a night of going through Mountain’s stash. He’ll find them in the morning when he shows up for his chores. Even if they somehow stumbled back inside, the smell alone is enough to prove their guilt. Swiss doesn’t care. He wants a lap full of stupid, pliant little water ghoul. 

Rain looks between Swiss and the half-finished joint. He blinks slowly, processing Swiss’ request before looking up at him with big eyes. 

“S too much,” he shakes his head, “can’t do it. Too much.” He almost looks like he’s going to cry. 

Lucky for him Swiss isn’t totally heartless. Not tonight at least. He coos and presses a kiss to his forehead. 

“It is, isn’t it? Barely had half of one and you’re already brainless.” 

To be fair, he knows he’s not faring much better. He’s not as reactive as Rain, but Mountain’s stuff never fails to make him feel like he’s living in a space between solid and gaseous. Like he’d float away with a too strong breeze. 

Rain nods at his words, a whine escaping his throat. Like one of a dog left in its cage when its owner leaves the house, a sad and broken little noise. Swiss pets through his hair. 

“Don’t worry rainstorm, I’ll help you. But I’m not touching you until we finish it, got it?” 

Rain nods again. Swiss grins and sticks it into Rain’s mouth. His eyes widen momentarily before brings his hand up to hold it. Swiss snaps his fingers and a small flame flickers on his thumb. He holds it close until the end catches, snuffing it with a wave of his hand. Rain takes a deep breath, chest visibly expanding. He blows the smoke directly into Swiss’ face. He can’t tell if it was on purpose or if he’s just that out of it he didn’t even think to turn away. He doesn’t care either way. Rain slumps against him and Swiss moves him so that his ear is pressed against his chest. He keeps one hand around his waist and the other on his thigh. Dangerously close to the bulge in Rain’s sweats. 

Swiss plucks the joint from his lips, taking a quick hit before shoving it back in place. He watches Rain. Watches the way his chest inflates, the way his hand shakes a little. He can’t see his face from this angle, his hair falling in a way that makes it impossible. What he can see, though,  consumes all his attention. His gills. They flutter with every breath he takes, exposing the soft membrane for a millisecond. Every flash of deep cobalt blue makes Swiss’ mouth water. He can just barely make out the little razors that line the inside. He’s totally enraptured watching them ripple minutely. 

The next inhale from Rain is big. Swiss can faintly hear him when he sucks in the smoke. He holds for a moment before letting it out. Swiss’ jaw drops when he watches the smoke pour from his gills. They flare and he’s able to see completely inside of them for however long it takes for Rain to exhale. He swears he can see his throat moving. It makes him dizzy. He leans closer on the next hit, squinting to see if he actually can look into his throat. He can feel the smoke get blown into his face. He’s not touching him, but Rain must be able to sense how close he is because he whines. 

“Thought you said you were gonna help me?” 

Swiss blinks slowly, drawing his attention away from Rain’s gills to formulate a response, “I am. Go ahead rainstorm, I'm right here.” 

When Rain exhales on this one Swiss leans down close. Close enough that Rain can feel it when he sucks in a breath. He shudders when he feels the warmth on his gills when Swiss exhales the smoke. 

“Swiss,” Rain warns. 

Even with his mind totally submerged in honey, Rain knows if Swiss gets his mouth on his gills it’ll be over for him. They’re already sensitive enough when he’s not high. He’s afraid he’ll cum in his pants with the first pass of a tongue. He has cum in pants when he’s with Swiss like this and that was without a clever mouth hovering over his gills. He swallows thickly when he feels Swiss laugh. 

“C'mon finish it Rainy.” 

Rain doesn’t know what else to do but listen. He knows what’s coming. He knows what Swiss is going to do. He inhales and waits, holding out until his lungs ache. He barely has a chance to breathe before he feels Swiss lips wrap around his gills, sucking. He gasps and shudders, hips twitching involuntarily in search of friction. Swiss lifts his head for just a moment, lips brushing over the membrane when he speaks. 

“You’re so close raincloud, finish the damn thing and I’ll give you everything.” 

He dips back down when he feels Rain shift. He sucks in the smoke from his gills once more and the noise Rain lets out makes his cock jump. He doesn’t let go this time, breathing the smoke out of his nose. He licks across the slit just to hear him make that pretty little sound again. 

Rain drops what’s left of the joint with a gasp. His whole body shakes when he feels Swiss’ tongue enter his gills. He couldn’t care less about whatever Swiss told him to do earlier, all he knows is the feeling of the warm, wet appendage. He can feel Swiss’ hand press closer to his cock, but the assault on his gills steals all his attention. 

Swiss is practically making out with them. He sucks on them before dipping his tongue inside as far as it’ll comfortably go. The other hand, the one on Rain’s waits, slips under his shirt. His fingertips brush gently over the gills on his abdomen making Rain moan loud and wanton. He slips the tips of his fingers inside with practiced ease, muscle memory helping him avoid the tiny razors. He pets at the inside membrane and Rain sobs. 

“Please touch me, Swiss. Need it, it hurts. Please.” He’s shaking. He sounds pathetic. He doesn’t care. Not as long as Swiss wraps one of his massive hands around his dripping cock. 

Swiss laughs, speaking into his gills. The vibration drives Rain crazy, “I am touching you, princess.” 

Rain weakly tries to pull the hand that’s under his shirt away. Tries to pull it down to cup the tent in his sweats. It doesn’t even budge. Rain can feel the grin spread across his lips. 

“I told you, didn't I? I wasn’t going to touch you unless you finished the whole thing. Did you?” 

Rain looks at the joint on the ground. It’s almost laughable how close he was to the end. He hiccups, sob catching in his throat.

“No.” 

Swiss hums and shoves his tongue and fingers back into Rain’s gills at the same time. He chokes out a broken little moan. 

“But what oh what about me?” 

“Well,”

Lick 

“You’ll either cum from this,” 

Lick

“Or you won’t.” 

Swiss shoves his fingers in just a bit deeper and Rain keens. He can’t take it. He’s so hard it hurts. He can feel the wet patch that soaked through the front of his sweats. He’ll have to wash them before giving them back to Cirrus. With shaky hands, he pulls the waistband of his pants and boxers down just enough to pull his cock out. He shudders when hot skin meets cool air. He’s slick and shiny, wet from the copious amounts of pre he had started leaking since Swiss kissed him. He gives in to Swiss. He slumps his entire body weight onto him, closing his eyes with a sigh at the same time he wraps his hand around his dick. 

He gets lost in it. The feeling of Swiss practically eating out his gills. At the feeling of him fingering the gills on his abdomen. He jerks himself in quick little strokes, trying to go at the same pace as Swiss’ tongue and failing. He’s vaguely aware of the feeling of Swiss rutting against his back, but it’s hard to focus on anything with his brain effectively turned to mush. If he turns his attention to Swiss at his gills then his movements turn sloppy, barely providing any sense of relief. If he focuses on stroking himself then he’s not as aware of the assault on his gills. In a brief moment of clarity, he vows to never touch Mountain’s shit again. A promise he’s made a million times. One he’ll continue to break. 

He lets out a broken gasp when he feels Swiss’ unoccupied hand wrap around his cock. He gives him no time to process, no time to question. He strokes him fast, fist twisting over his head with each pass. He couldn’t take it anymore. The sweet little sounds spilling from Rain’s lips became too much. He needed to watch him cum, needed him to make a mess so Swiss could lick it up and taste him. Rain is utterly helpless to it. Swiss has every part of him. All he can do is whine and whimper and attempt to buck up to meet Swiss on the down stroke. He can feel his slick dripping down his cock and into his sweats, can feel it soaking his balls and his thighs. 

Swiss presses his thumb into the sensitive skin on the underside of his head at the same time he plunges his tongue into his gills as far as it’ll go. Rain can feel him in his throat. It’s too much, it’s all too much. He cums with a shout, high-pitched and feminine. Swiss slows his movements but doesn’t stop stroking him. Milking him for everything he has. He doesn’t stop until Rain’s crying turns from relief to pain. Swiss pulls his tongue and fingers from his gills, pressing sweet little kisses to his jaw. He mutters praise in between each press of his lips. He holds Rain tight against him, not entirely sure he’ll be able to keep himself upright if he lets go. He rocks them gently. The only sound that fills the greenhouse is Rain’s pants and the storm outside. Eventually, he catches his breath enough to speak. He says the only thing that comes to mind. 

“You touched me.” 

Swiss laughs as loud as thunder, “Had to make sure you caught up.” 

Rain furrows his brow before slowly turning in Swiss’ hold to face him. His body shakes as he moves, groping the front of Swiss’ lounge shorts. His falls open, a brief moment of shock before he giggles. Swiss grunts when he squeezes, smearing the mess in his pants over his spent dick. 

“Don’t give me that look. Not when you just soaked half of Mounty’s mattress.” 

Rain slumps his head forward to rest on Swiss’ shoulder, “You like it.” 

“Damn right.” He kisses Rain’s temple before bringing his hand up and popping each of his fingers into his mouth one by one. He sucks Rain’s spend off, groaning when the taste of petrichor and sea salt hits his tongue. 

Rain is asleep by the time Swiss licks the mess off his hand. He huffs a quiet laugh before lying down, keeping Rain on top of his chest. He rubs up and down his back, until he starts purring. Swiss is quick to follow him after that, closing his eyes and giving in to the pleasant haze in his head. 

It’s a bright and sunny morning. The exact opposite of what yesterday was. Everything has a shine to it, still wet from the storm that raged all night long. Rain is awake, but he hasn’t opened his eyes. He’s warm from the sunlight streaming into the greenhouse. The rise and fall of Swiss’ breathing comforting. His head still feels a bit fuzzy, but nothing like the previous evening. He’s content to lay there all day, but his ear twitches at the sound of a snuffle. He cracks an eye open only to see Mountain standing above them, arms crossed and a neutral expression. He snuffles again, nostrils flaring. 

Rain elbows Swiss in the ribs. He jumps with a groan. 

“Too early. Go bed.” Swiss rolls over causing Rain to scramble off him. 

“Swiss wake up!” He hisses. 

“Whaaaaaaat?” He sits up, blinking slowly. 

When he finally opens his eyes all he sees is Mountain. He practically jumps up, rolling off the mattress to kneel on the dirt floor. He puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Hey Mount. Funny seeing you here we were just—“ 

“You have five seconds to run.” 

Rain and Swiss exchange a quick look before bolting up and running. Rain stumbles, nearly tripping but he catches himself and keeps going. Mountain watches them through the glass. Rain sprints to the lake, Swiss back towards the Ministry. 

Mountain cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders as he walks towards the door, humming a tune only he knows. 

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #the band ghost fic #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #swiss x rain #rulti #18+ mdni #mdni #golfball writes

[artdcnaldson]

okay but PLEASE elaborate on Olympics!Art AU

TeeHee

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v), feral obsessive behavior, infidelity

A/N: And you would do it too, that’s all I’m saying. Also IMPORTANT note: I love Tashi, she is a mother to many. However this fic has a very obsessive reader who just wants to fuck a married man, at Tashi’s expense

Maybe you were a bad person.

You’d met Art and Tashi Donaldson before— a year back at an event held for Tennis’ rising stars. That was you, some other guys who had done well in the Juniors, a girl from an Ivy League, and more people that fell into the blind spots of your interest..

You must’ve looked so sweet in your formalwear, approaching the couple with shaking hands so you could say just how big of a fan you were. You had no ill intent then, not when you were face to face with two people you’d idolized since you were twelve and watching the Junior US Open. That night you’d taken a deep breath as you stared at the ceiling of your home, feeling like you’d made it.

Sure, Art was handsome, and you’d lived the past decade harboring a massive celebrity crush on him, but he was married, he was untouchable. Art Donaldson oozed that sweet, devoted husband shtick. Anniversary posts, birthday posts, Valentine’s Day posts, Mother’s Day posts. He had a daughter, he posted about how much he loved being a dad.

You were fine accepting that your fantasies of fucking Art Donaldson were strictly fantasies. But that was before you qualified and had to see him every fucking day.

Art Donaldson, who held open doors for you, who talked to you casually, like he might an old friend. Art, who stood in the long line in the food court with you, ate something he probably shouldn’t have, and asked that you don’t tell Tashi.

And you’d smile conspiratorially, and assure him his secret was safe with you. The implication being that you’d keep that secret, and more. As many as he’d ask you to, really.

You’d see him on a practice court, running drills with his wife, and feel the heat of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. You’d turn away, focus on your own game, practice until your hands were aching and sore.

“Where’s Mrs. Donaldson?” You asked one night after you’d been sexiled and had to sit out in the hallway waiting for your roommate to finish up. Art leaned against the wall, standing tall above you, so you had to crane your neck. You liked that point of view, on your knees looking up at him, you wondered if he liked it too.

“Oh, she’s staying in a very nice, very expensive hotel room with our daughter right now,” he said with a grin. “As soon as my events are done, that’s where I’ll be too.”

“Oh,” you said, bringing an easy smile to your lips. “Well, we’re all glad you’re here now.”

“We?” He questioned.

You gave a coy smile, batting your lashes so sweetly. “Maybe just me.”

There was a strange expression on his face for just a moment. Then he laughed like it was nothing. He wished you a goodnight and good luck in your matches the next morning, and disappeared into his own room.

You medaled in women’s doubles. They published photos of you and your partner biting the silver between your teeth. That same day, Art Donaldson took home gold. You were there to see the very end of his last match— every single collision of racket against ball, every step, every grunt of exertion. Your thighs clenched as you watched, fists balled up in the fabric of your skirt.

You wanted him in a needy, desperate sort of way. Like a groupie for a rock band, or a virgin being sacrificed on a mountaintop. You watched him celebrate with a kiss from Tashi and felt that same need like an open wound. Jealousy was festering in you like a rot.

The dive bar wasn’t what you’d expected. Something Art had found with a quick google search and a few minutes with a translation app. He’d knocked on your door to invite you, wearing the beaming smile of someone on top of the world.

“So you’ll come?” He asked after he told you all about it.

“Mhmm,” you said, heart hammering against your ribs. “I’ll come.”

And there you were— in a dress that hardly qualified as such— standing so close to him that you could smell his expensive cologne. His arm would brush yours, he’d glance over and apologize with a warm hand to your arm. You’d clench your thighs together and peer at him through your lashes. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.

A few of the other players disappeared to play darts, or watch the late night coverage of the other sports still competing. You stuck by Art’s side, happily allowing his attention to fall on you completely.

“I saw parts of your doubles final,” he said finally. He was drinking a brand of beer you’d never seen before— something local, you supposed. “You looked beautiful out there.” Your eyes lit up, and then he added. “The way you were playing, I mean— it was phenomenal.”

“Well, I’m no gold medalist,” you said. You let your hand rest on his arm, and looked up at him. The fingers on your other hand toyed with the edge of the medal, warm from where it had been flush against his chest.

He swallowed. You felt his muscles flex beneath your touch, but he didn’t discourage it. Not one fucking bit.

It wasn’t lost on you that Tashi wasn’t there. Not that it was really her type of venue, from what you had gathered. It wasn’t lost on you that Art Donaldson was at a dive bar, drinking random Brazilian beers, instead of celebrating with his wife, with his daughter. Fuck all those posts on his instagram— if he really was a good husband, a faithful one… that’s the only place he’d want to be.

“I saw your match too. I ran right over after my ceremony to watch,” you confessed. It was hard to concentrate on anything else— you were standing so close to him that you were nearly pressed completely into his body.

His lips twitched in interest. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Mhmm. It was incredible. You were so dominant out there, just taking what was rightfully yours.”

He swallowed again, gravitating closer. Your tits were practically spilling out of your dress— he probably got the perfect eyeful when he eased you closer with a firm hand on your lower back, when he looked down at you through blown pupils.

“You looked so fucking hot out there, Art,” you said, lips brushing against his jawline. “You can’t even imagine how it felt sitting there, watching you win. How turned on I got… how wet.”

Art exhaled a shuddery breath. “Jesus Christ.”

It must’ve been a while since he had someone want him this bad, you thought. Clearly he needed it— needed a pretty, sweet thing to tell him just how much they wanted him. You could be that. You could do that.

“I’m not wearing panties,” you whispered in his ear. His grip on you tightened and you had to suppress a giddy smile. “You can feel if you want. I won’t tell.”

He swore under his breath and glanced around. Everyone was too occupied or drunk to give a shit about what the two of you were up to.

He grabbed your hand, pulled you away into the bathroom. You looked pretty even then, in the flickering lights, sat up on the edge of the sink eagerly awaiting his attention.

When he wrenched your thighs apart, he was greeted by the pretty sight of your glistening cunt— sticky with arousal and need. His hand fit there perfectly, right where you needed it.

“Fuck,” you gasped. His fingers rubbed through your slit— wet and hot and aching for him. Your head fell back, knocking against the dirty mirror. “Want you to use me— whatever you want, just take it.”

And you meant it too. This was your teenage idol— a man you’d touched yourself to the thought of countless times. He owned your body, your sexuality, as much as you did. It was only fair he took from it whatever he pleased.

You watched with hungry eyes as he fumbled with the button of his pants, then shoved them down just enough to free his dick.

Your mouth fucking watered with the need to feel it on your tongue, nudging against the back of your throat. You weren’t opposed to begging— you nearly started before you got it into your hand.

Warm, thick, pulsing. Precum beaded at his tip, so you smeared it around the sensitive head of his cock with your thumb. He groaned, bucked into your fist once, twice before he moved your hand.

“Spread your legs wider for me,” he said, slapping the inside of your thighs. You obeyed wordlessly, spreading yourself out invitingly. He pressed closer, so you felt him rutting his dick against your pussy, coating it in your arousal. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

The words came out with equal parts disgust and awe. He probably thought you were a slut with the way you were throwing yourself at him. You wished he’d just call you that, spit it in your face.

Your cunt pulsed with need, aching to be filled up finally. The culmination of years of fantasizing. Art pressed himself against your entrance, sinking himself into you with the slow reverence of a man who liked making love.

He buried himself inside of you and had to stop moving to keep from cumming then and there. He was a perfect image of restraint— the way his fingers dimpled the flesh of your hips in a bruising grip.

Art wanted to be a gentleman— to give you time to adjust to the size of him, to ease you into it and let the pleasure be a slow, soft burn. He pulled out nice and easy, slid himself into your wet, throbbing cunt. That was all fine and good, but you knew it was just pretense. You were laid out and wanting, begging for him to use you as his own personal toy.

“I’m not your wife, Art.” You met his gaze, locked your ankles around his waist. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

The first thrust, the first real one, knocked the air from your lungs. That silence didn’t last long— because you got what you wanted— he was really fucking you, bullying his cock into your pussy with the same need and desperation that you felt.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve— fuck— you’ve got no fucking self respect, huh?” He pounded into you, leveraging his grip to pull you against him, really impale you on his dick.

The moan that escaped you was pornographic. If he kept talking to you like that, if he kept fucking you like that, you’d cum.

“You don’t even care, do you? This fucking pussy’s squeezing me so tight— you fucking love this,” His voice was strained, interrupted by groans and pants.

You moaned, eyes rolling back. “Love this,” you echoed. When you looked down, at the sight of him splitting you open, of the ring of creamy arousal circling the base of his dick, you felt dizzy. Like you were standing on top of a tall building and looking down. Sort of out of body, tethered in the present by brutal thrusts into your pussy and the wet, slapping sounds of your bodies joining.

Your fingers moved between your thighs, rubbing needy and insistent at your clit. So close to finishing that you wanted to cry and just ask to start over again, that you’d savor it more a second time.

“Gonna cum,” he groaned suddenly. You felt him start to pull out, to leave. It wasn’t fucking fair.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck— not yet, you didn’t want it to end like that. “I have an IUD,” you lied through your teeth. You used your legs, pulled him closer, deeper. “Just keep going, don’t stop. I’m right there.”

He moaned against your throat— holding you tight, fucking into you with animal need. Your fingers moved against your clit with an insistent need. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge. Your moans so loud that Art had to put his medal between your lips to shut you up.

And you were so pliant— letting him drill into your aching, used cunt, your mouth tasting like metal. You felt his rhythm falter— one, two harsh thrusts that knocked muffled moans from you until he came, painting your insides thick, creamy white.

He stayed buried inside of you for a while— panting, doing his best to catch his breath. You spat out the medal and it fell back against his chest, spit slick and shining. You reached up, ran your fingers along his face, reverently, sweetly. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and you tucked it away with delicate fingers.

When he pulled out, you felt that sinking feeling of loss and jealousy in your chest. He redressed in silence, turned away like he couldn’t stand to look at you, or the mirror. Shame rolled off of him in waves that you wanted to brush away.

It wasn’t bad, you’d assure him. You’re a tennis star, you’re the greatest in the world. You should have whatever you want, whenever you want it.

But you didn’t say that. You just tidied yourself up as best as you could and slipped back out into the bar. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson smut

[nemovanilla]

Okay horikoshi seems to being going in two possible endings for the story (barring that midoriya may somehow re-get ofa).

1. Midoriya somehow becomes a pro hero despite being quirkless

2. Midoriya finds another method of heroism that is safe for him to do and doesn’t require any special equipment.

Both have potential in terms of themes. For the first, he overcomes discrimination and proves hero society wrong in one of its most fundamental ways. By becoming a pro hero, he defies the “rule” that everyone has their place which is determined by the quirk that they are or are not born with. This one plays more into shonen tropes and has more gratification and feel-goodness.

For the second, he defies hero society in another fundamental way. He merges the role of hero with the role of civilian and says that actually, everyone can be a hero as long as they have the mindset and actions necessary. He goes against civilian complicity and the bystander effect, thereby undoing the toxicity in another big way. This last one de-legitimizes the role of the pro hero within hero society, thereby beginning the end of that era. It would be a more bittersweet ending as well.

Depending on how abolitionist horikoshi intends to be, it could go either way. Both are thematically solid. I’m honestly on the fence about which I would prefer. On the one hand, it would be pretty cool if midoriya was able to achieve his lifelong dream and be a hero in the sense he always wanted. On the other hand, anti-establishment is more important to me than personal satisfaction. I guess I’m curious what other people think, if you have au thing to add I’d love to read your thoughts :)

I am also very curious how bakugo will come into it. I fully expect some sort of dvk3, and whatever happens during that will probably play a huge role in determining what path midoriya chooses. Idk if the first or second is better for bkdk I think either could work.

#Mha #bnha #midoriya izuku #Mha manga #bkdk

[lexi-the-demon-69]

Tell us more about dad-bod Dark Choco, please! I gotta know how our boy is healing now that the COD have been divorced from his life.

I'd love to! He's from my first ever CRK AU "A New Life" which was made around when episode 14 was released. It's basically a continuation of Dark Choco's story and how he heals from his trauma.

So, after Dark Choco leaves his sword and old life behind, he decides to live in the woods for the rest of his days. He soon settles down right by a little creek with a waterfall and builds himself a nice, cozy cabin. His little cabin is far away from the Dark Cacao Kingdom and is settled near the Cookie Kingdom for convenience if he ever decides to go into town, which is quite rare.

Thanks to the Strawberry Jam Sword, Dark Choco has vowed to never pick up a sword ever again for the sake of his own safety, and now uses only a spear, along with a bow and arrow for hunting. He is still very skilled in hand-to-hand combat, though he is a little rusty with his archery skills. (Haha bad eyesight go brr.)

During his time in solitude, Dark Choco starts picking up some hobbies and habits that he never knew he had or never tried. Such as gardening, sewing, and napping... a lot. He's a big napper, since, well, that's what you get when you stay up for days on end. Not to mention nutrition. Choco was either starved or never given a proper diet so he was never able to eat the kind of stuff he liked/needed. Now that he's away from his old kingdom and COD, he can now eat whatever and whenever he wants! However... doesn't really help his pants line, does it? Yeah, the poor guy has packed on some extra dough and his dad can and will tease him about it.

Speaking of which, after his son left his homeland again, Dark Cacao has been desperately searching for him. Not to punish him for his crimes... but to apologize to him, properly. As Dark Cacao reflected on the past, he soon realized that he was not a great father... at all, and the apology he gave to Dark Choco was not one he truly deserved. So, he searches for his son day and night whenever he gets the chance, just to tell him he's sorry.

Long story short, Dark Cacao finds Dark Choco's cabin after months of searching and apologizes to him. Dark Choco simply says that he doesn't need to apologize and he already forgives him, after he showed him how much time he put into finding him. Dark Cacao asks if he would like to come home and they could start over, fresh, but Dark Choco declines. Stating that he isn't ready to come home... just, not yet. He still needs some time to heal properly before he can face the kingdom again. Dark Cacao accepts this and now, once a month, he visits his son to repair their relationship and to catch up after being apart for so long.

Later, Dark Choco finds and rescues Parfait Cookie after she is attacked by cake monsters. Parfait is initially scared of him until he reassures her that he means no harm. (he saves her before he gets the dad bod UwU) After this, Parfait goes out of her way to see Choco, soon becoming his friend and now girlfriend after Dark Cacao reads Parfait's love letter out loud in front of them during a visit on Valentine's Day. (Dark Choco also liked her too long before this happened-)

-----

That's about it, really. I had a lot of fun making this AU and to think that this AU actually predicted the future.- I must be a psychic-

(Also, if you guys wanna see more dad bod Choco, please let me know!)

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #dark choco cookie #cookie run au #cookie run kingdom au #cookie run dark choco #dark cacao cookie #dark choco x parfait #chocofait

[schrijverr]

An Odd Job

5 times Buck drops some random information about his time traveling and the odd jobs he worked + 1 time they realize it’s not that at all.

AKA a Navy Seal Buck AU where his years traveling were a cover for missions.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: guns, military, mentions of death and violence

~~~

1. Rappelling Down

The first time it happens is on a call, something the 118 isn’t new to. Buck is still on probation, but has already settled in quite a bit. He’s a friendly guy and having people around him makes him thrive, as does the work. Even if he’s a bit irresponsible now and then.

Right now, they’re answering a call about a kid who climbed out of the apartment building window when playing spy then got stuck on a ledge high up. They can’t reach it with the ladder, so they’re rappelling down from the roof.

As Buck is strapping himself into the harness and getting ready to go over, he grins: “Oh, I missed this.”

“What, the few times in training got you hooked?” Chimney grins, while Hen and Bobby shake their head slightly at their newest recruit.

“Nah, used to rappel down all the time before this,” Buck answers, fasting the last bits.

“What?” Hen asks, checking his lines, just to be sure.

“Oh, I traveled a lot. Did odd jobs. One of them was at a rappelling business. Let me tell you, real handy when training for this,” Buck says, sending her a big beaming smile, before getting on the edge of the roof and expertly jumping down.

The kid has his foot stick in a fence, which isn’t optimal for getting him out, but has luckily prevented him from falling. Buck first secures him in a harness of his own, attaching that to himself, as he radios for Chimney to come join him with a saw.

Once Chimney is down there, he hands the saw to Buck so he can check the injury. Despite being attached to the kid and working in Chimney’s area, Buck stays out of the way the entire time. It’s not often like that, even with seasoned firefighters. Working when dangling form a building is always harder than on the ground.

So, when they’re back up on the roof, Chimney claps Buck on the back and grins: “Nice work out there. That rappelling business must be pretty good.”

“Yeah, one of the best,” Buck returns, his grin slightly knowing in a way Chimney can’t place.

However, before he can ask about it, Bobby cuts in: “You did well, but don’t get overconfident. You are not playing spy out here, you just saw what can happen if you do.”

“Guess I’m not,” Buck nods. “Won’t let it happen, Cap.”

“Good, now lets pack up.”

2. Shrapnel Wounds

Eddie has been confused about Buck all day long. The guy fucking hates him for no reason since the second he arrived, and for what, because he gets along with his team? That’s a good thing. Even if it’s not all the team, apparently.

However, mostly Eddie has been curious about what is up with him while they actually work. This case with the shrapnel has made Buck quite a mystery to Eddie. Because he’s been having a one sided pissing contest all day with Eddie, but he clearly knows something about this sort of thing, but he’s not saying anything.

He first notices that Buck doesn’t want to see the wound. This is not that strange and he brushes it off, but a part of him supposed Buck was the kind of guy who would want to see it, maybe get a kick out of it. But he hadn’t, just got to work with a familiar disinterest, as if this was nothing new.

Then, it’s in the ambulance. Sure, he brings up the rebar as way to be annoying, but when Eddie uncovers the gold cap, Buck’s face gets worried before Eddie can explain the difference between the caps, as if he’d already known.

Buck also offers to go into that ambulance way too easily, strapping on the bullet proof vest as if he’s done it multiple times before. Eddie is pretty sure that is not common, even in LA.

But the final confusing piece of the puzzle is after they get the thing out and wheel their patient over to the hospital. He and Buck have found a camaraderie together and he’s about to let the whole thing go when the bomb in the ambulance explodes.

Bobby flinches immediately, while Eddie doesn’t react at all, used to it. Buck does an interesting mix of both. Eddie watches him not react, then flinch a little too exaggerated with a delay.

Unable to help himself, he asks: “This not your first bomb call?”

“What?”

“I mean, you kinda seemed to know what was happening today,” Eddie explains, gesturing to Buck.

“All the military explosives stuff?” Buck asks and Eddie nods. There’s a flicker of something, but Eddie doesn’t know him well enough to place it, before it’s wiped away as Buck grins and claps him on the back. “Nah, man, you’re the one that can know about all that stuff, I just followed you lead.”

“Seemed mighty comfortable with that explosive,” Eddie pushes, even though he knows he shouldn’t, because they are just getting along and having good team dynamic is so important.

Buck, fortunately doesn’t seem to care, throwing an arm around him as he says: “I traveled a lot, landmines are surprisingly common when you get to the wrong places by accident. First time up close though. What do you say about a drink to celebrate your first explosion with the 118.”

3. Molotov Cocktails

They are on duty, but not on a call when Buck makes another reference to his travels. Though, they have just returned from a call when he does.

He is joining them at the couches, right as Hen says: “I can’t believe those kids thought it was a good idea to try and see if molotov cocktails worked like they did in the movies.”

“And without a plan if the answer was yes too,” Chimney huffs, a little annoyed since he lost an eyebrow due to the incident.

“Not to mention that they made shitty molotov cocktails,” Buck joins in plopping down on the couch. “I mean, if you’re going to do it, at least do it right. Everyone knows benzine or oil is better for it than fricking vodka.”

He gets himself situated and takes a sip of coffee before looking at everyone, who is giving him judgmental and/or confused looks. “What?” he says.

“How do you know that, Buck?” Hen asks, raising a brow at him and titling her head in a very specific and scary way.

“Hey, I didn’t do that,” Buck defends himself.

“Okay, so do tell. How does our little bad boy know the best way to make a molotov cocktail, huh?” Eddie teases.

“I was a bartender for a bit in Peru. One of the older guys there was involved in some of the civil unrest, knew stuff, liked talking about it. Can’t blame me for listening when he was talking big explosions and fires,” Buck grins at them, a little sheepishly.

“You’re a firefighter,” Hen deadpans.

“I had a fascination?” Buck suggests, more than tries to justify himself.

“You sure are something, man,” Eddie laughs, tugging Buck towards him so he can ruffle his hair in a way he knows annoys the shit out of Buck.

“Oh fuck off,” Buck rolls his eyes as he attempts to fight Eddie off, though it’s a weak attempt. He likes the camaraderie they have, the family he’s built. Even if he’s not completely honest with them about everything.

4. The Gun

This situation is bad. Very bad. LAFD rarely has to deal with unsecured scenes and suspects still on the loose, especially when the suspect has a firearm. However, rarely doesn’t mean never and this is pretty bad.

There is a victim bleeding to death and stuck out there, but a gunman still on the lose. The 118 want to move in so they can save this woman’s life, but the LAPD isn’t letting them.

Of course they understand that they have to be safe, however, it hurts to see someone in need of aid and to be there with all their gear, yet be unable to do anything. It’s not in their nature. It’s against their nature in fact.

Bobby is arguing loudly with the police on the scene, until he gets his way. The shooter is apparently far enough away that they deem it safe to move in, albeit with escort. Thankful for that, the 118 get to work.

Sadly, not everything goes to plan, the gunman circles back and their escort partially leaves to be back up. Not moments later the gunman comes running around the corner, an assault rifle in hand and a whole lot of police on his trail.

What is left of their escort tightens rank as shots cease to be fired, since they’re now in the line of fire.

A brave idiot tackles the shooter from the side and the gun slips from the man’s hand as they scramble on the floor. Everyone is advised to stay back, but Buck is already running, snatching the gun up from the ground and disarming it, chucking the ammo as far away as he can before going in the other direction.

The police get the man in cuffs, but Athena is stalking towards him, snatching the gun out of his hand as she snaps: “What in the hell were you thinking? Or were you not thinking?”

“I just wanted to make sure he couldn’t grab it and injure someone else,” Buck says, looking back more defiantly than expected.

“And why on God’s green earth did you think you knew how to do that?” Athena interrogates further.

“I, uh,” Buck rubs the back of his head, his face becoming sheepish as he says: “I worked at a paintball range. Pretty accurate those things.”

“A paintball range?” Athena repeats, her tone implying that there will be a bigger lecture later and Buck won’t be able to escape from her.

5. Parachute Skills

“What an incredibly reckless and unbelievably stupid thing to do, firefighter Buckley,” Bobby berates Buck, who is still unbuckling himself from a parachute.

“It was the best call and you know it, Cap,” Buck argues back, not taking the admonishing when he knows he’s right. “If I hadn’t climbed into that plane, we never would have made it out with the patient alive.”

Behind them they hear a relieved Chimney exclaim: “Patient is stable, ready for transport. Let’s move.”

As if to say, see, point proven, Buck raises his brows at Bobby and opens his arms.

“You got onto an unsecured plane balancing on the edge of a cliff, against my direct orders, then proceeded to jump out of it with a patient, while you have no qualifications to do so,” Bobby reminds him.

“It was the fastest way to get him to medical help, since air evac wasn’t gonna be here on time. I knew what I was doing,” Buck says, obviously hurt that Bobby doesn’t trust him.

“I don’t think you did,” Bobby replies, a hint of desperation and disappointment coating his voice. “You do things without thinking them through, because you assume everything will work out fine, but one of these days, it won’t. You take unnecessary risks and you don’t follow orders.”

“I follow orders just fine, I’m just also capable of making risk assessments by myself,” Buck scowls. “He had a femoral artery bleeding, no spinal injuries. He needed to go to an ambulance and fast, we couldn’t get him out there on time. He had to go down. I found a way down.”

“By parachuting!?” Bobby shouts.

“Yes, by parachuting!”

“Did you ever stop to think how wrong that could go, Buck? For Pete’s sake you’re a firefighter, we see these accidents. You could’ve made the patient’s situation worse and injured yourself.”

“And did you ever stop to think that I knew what I was doing?” Buck yells back, chest heaving in frustration and anger. “You really think that I wasted my early twenties seeing the world without jumping out of a few planes? Do you think I would’ve put that patient’s life at risk like that? Is that really what you think of me?”

Bobby can see in his eyes how much he’s hurting and then realizes how he doesn’t want to have this screaming match. He takes a deep breath, then replies in calmer voice: “No matter how much you know, accidents can still happen and on paper, you don’t have the qualifications to do this. If something had gone wrong, you would’ve been on the hook for it. You still might be.”

Buck looks away, still frowning and his jaw set. He brushes past Bobby, nearly colliding with him as he bites: “Fine, next time I’ll let the patient die, if that’s what you want.”

+1. Sniper Dora

After the parachute incident, which luckily had been cleared up without major consequences for Buck’s job, things had settled within the 118. Buck now had the papers to make such a rescue within their parameters in the future and he and Bobby had worked it out best they could.

However, things are still a bit weird between them. Bobby knows there is something about the whole thing that he doesn’t know, but prodding makes Buck shut down. Meanwhile Buck knows the Captain can’t help it, but he still wishes the other would trust him more, not always immediately think him irresponsible or reckless.

Then the call comes in.

A chopper has hit a high rise and is stuck without a way to get in. It’s a military chopper too and they’re requested to coordinate with the commander on site about how best to deal with the cargo… whatever that cargo may be.

They arrive to the roof, so that they can start securing the chopper before attempting a rescue. There is a man that greets them, wearing combat gear, gun slung over his shoulder. He shakes Bobby’s hand, explaining that he was in the chopper that’s parked on the roof, before something was wrong with the other one and it went down.

“We’ll get it secured and try to get your men out safe and sound,” Bobby assures him.

“Thank you, Captain,” the man nods, before he calls out: “Oi, Dora, that you? Hope you still have that killer aim, I’m gonna a need a favor before you can secure that chopper.”

Everyone is now confused, however, before Bobby can ask for clarification, Buck replies, much to everyone’s surprise. He sighs: “I really hate that call sign, Dig. But I can still aim.”

He walks forward and shakes the man’s – Dig apparently – hand, before pulling him into a bro-hug. As Dig claps him on the back, he says: “Great, because we were transporting an informant in that chopper that I need tranqued, because this has turned into a hostage situation.”

Dig hands Buck some sort of gun that he takes without blinking as the 118 just stares at the duo in confusion. Buck raises an eyebrow at Dig and smirks: “What happened to informant?”

“Hey, I never said willing informant,” Dig holds his hands up in surrender.

“Of course,” Buck says, taking the safety of the gun and peering over the edge.

“Okay, can someone please tell me what’s happening,” Bobby interrupts.

“Yes, who allowed Buck to have a gun,” a concerned Hen adds.

“Buck?” Dig asks Buck.

“Better than Dora, right,” Buck grins back.

Dig turns to the others and says: “Dora, or Buck, here, worked with my team, before he worked with yours. This is need to know only, so let’s keep this part off the records. I’ll say Nugget took the shot.”

“Nugget, really?” Buck asks, nearly offended, looking back to the parked chopper.

One of the guys sitting on the side raises his hand and smiles: “Sup, Dora.”

“Sup, Nugget,” Buck returns, before refocusing on his task.

“And why will Buck take the shot when you have other personnel available?” Bobby demands.

“Cause my usual sniper is down there,” Dig nods down to the chopper.

“Sniper?” Eddie repeats, looking at Buck.

The others follow suit and Buck squirms under the attention. He blushes: “Let’s keep the questions until after we secured the chopper, okay. It can still go down unless we do something. We don’t have time for this.” To Dig he says: “What’s the guy’s name?”

“Tim.”

“Tim?” Buck repeats, surprised.

“I don’t know what to tell you, man, but it’s Tim,” Dig shrugs.

“Alright,” Buck shrugs, leaning over the edge and calling out: “Hey, Tim. I see you have a gun there. You can aim it at my face, but with your vantage point, there’s a higher chance you’ll hit the blades and the bullet will ricochet and maybe hit you, or you break the blades and the chopper goes down. You can surrender now and we’ll come rescue you, no harm, no foul.”

“No, you won’t take me again, I have the power now,” Tim yells back.

“Okay, your call,” Buck replies, getting ready to make the shot.

In the background he can hear Chimney asking: “If, uhm, Tim down there has a bad vantage point to make a shot, how do we know Buck’ll make it?”

“Of course he’ll make the shot,” Dig huffs out in amusement. “There’s no better shot than Dora. Never worked with a better sniper since him. Was sad to see him go.”

Buck blocks it all out, he takes a deep breath, holds it, aims and fires. It’s a fluid motion, one born out of a lot of practice. He keeps holding it, until the tranq makes contact with the target. When he has established he made the shot, he calls out: “Target hit, chopper cleared of hostiles.” He hands Dig the gun back and starts grabbing his usual gear as he says: “Let’s go secure this thing.”

This isn’t an easy or routine job, so most slap on their professionalism as they set to freeing the men trapped in the chopper. However, Buck feels the glances the entire time.

Still, in a way, it’s good to see old friend again. Even if they’re all still dickheads. They secure the chopper to the roof, allowing for the blades to be turned off, then rappel in. As Buck lands, Gus grins: “Hey, it really is you. I thought Dig was pulling our leg.”

“Couldn’t let you sit here, someone had to come save your ass,” Buck says, attaching Gus to his harness so they can be pulled up.

“It’s good to see you, Dora,” Gus says.

“Yeah, yeah, still hate that name,” Buck rolls his eyes, but the tone is fond.

“Oh come on, those ladies were right you know, you truly are adorable. Few years and you’re still baby faced.” Gus’s face is nearly splitting in two with that shit eating grin of his, pinching Buck’s cheek.

Buck hands him over to Chimney for a quick check up, saying: “He might seem like he has a head injury, he doesn’t. Gus over here is just naturally that stupid.”

“You love me,” Gus singsongs.

“I hate you,” Buck singsongs back, jumping back over the edge to get the next guy.

Soon everyone, including the tranqued informant, has been rescued and checked over. There are people on the way to get the chopper down properly, but the others will continue on. They have places to be and manage to fit themselves into the one chopper.

Though not before saying their goodbyes with Buck, making him promise to come hang out with them again. Buck smiles broadly at all of them, returning hugs and claps on the back as he returns to promise to stay in touch.

The second that chopper is off the roof, everyone is on Buck. Chimney slides up next to him first, saying: “So, why Dora?”

“Ugh,” Buck groans. “It’s almost as embarrassing as your Chimney story. Infiltrated the wrong house, bunch of nice ladies though. Helped them with their door and they kept calling me adorable, which…”

“Got shortened to Dora over time,” Eddie fills in, knowing how that works.

“Yup.”

“God, glad I remained Diaz throughout my service,” Eddie grimaces in sympathy, as Buck gives him a pained nod of thanks.

Bobby appears in front of Buck crossing his arms as he gives him this questioning look. “Care to explain exactly what Dig meant with you running with his team before running with ours.”

“I, uh- I was a Navy SEAL, before joining the 118,” Buck explains, rubbing the back of his head.

“I thought you said you dropped out of training to become a Navy Seal, because you couldn’t turn off your emotions, become a robot like they wanted you too,” Bobby says.

“That was only half a lie,” Buck defends himself, though he looks apologetic about it. “That is the reason I quit, I just didn’t quit training, but the force itself. I mean, being a SEAL is pretty good, but at some point, it- it just started to weigh on me.”

“Being a sniper can be rough,” Eddie says. “Some of my buddies from the army were snipers, they always had a look in their eyes.”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees, his own eyes becoming far away. “You- It’s not a firefight wherein everyone is shooting. You line up that shot and watch it through to the end. You know it’s you, you know what you did. I didn’t want take lives. I joined the army to serve, to keep people safe, but that’s not what they do. I couldn’t stay there.”

It’s a lot darker than what they’re used to from their youngest member and all look at him for a moment.

Hen steps forward first, sling an arm around Buck as she gently smiles: “Well, I’m glad you found a place here, with us. Doing what you want to do. What you were made to do.”

Buck smiles back at her, the life thankfully returning to his eyes. He tugs her hug closer and says: “I am also glad I found you guys.”

“So, why did you hide it?” Chimney asks as they make their way back down to the engine. “I mean, being a Navy SEAL is about as cool as it gets. Didn’t think you had it in you to keep that hidden.”

“Well, contrary to popular belief, I am not as irresponsible as I look, and like Dig said, it’s mostly need to know basis,” Buck shrugs.

“The parachute,” Bobby says knowingly.

“The parachute,” Buck agrees. “Told you I knew what I was doing.”

“I couldn’t have known,” Bobby points out rightfully and Buck gives a conceding nod.

“None of us could. Hell, Maddie doesn’t know, she told me about the postcards, those were mostly from US soil. How did you pull that off?” Chimney comments. “And why?”

Buck answers: “I asked the others to ask partners, spouses, parents, siblings to send them empty cards so I could send them to Maddie. Took pictures when I dressed up for undercover work. I lied to Maddie, because I didn’t wanna worry her. She already had enough going on with Doug and our parents. Easier to be careless and free, than in danger.”

“You have to tell her,” Chimney says.

“Yeah, you really do,” Hen agrees. “You know Chimney can’t keep a secret to save his life. She’ll have heard all about it by the time he’s through the door.”

“Can’t you keep this one?” Buck pleads as they drop of their gear.

“Nu-uh, no way,” Chimney says, getting into the engine. “I am gonna drive myself crazy if you make me do that.”

“But now she’s gonna worry all over me, even though I’m fine,” Buck whines, showing them he’s still their Buck.

“She’s an older sibling, it’s what they do,” Eddie says, patting him on the back as he passes.

“You all are the worst,” Buck pouts.

“For wanting you to not lie to your sister about what you’ve been up to for the last few years?” Bobby asks.

“Yeah!” Buck exclaims, throwing up his hands. “She is such a worrywart, you have no idea what our childhood was like. Her worrying is truly something of legends. Back me up here, Chim.”

“Oh no, I’m staying on her good side in case any of this ever comes back to her,” Chimney backs out as fast as he can.

“That is so unfair,” Buck whines some more.

“No, what is unfair is you trying to put me in the middle of the Buckley family drama, Dora,” Chimney argues back.

“We are so not calling me Dora,” Buck warns.

“Then tell your sister,” Eddie says, before driving away.

“Yes, or Dora will definitely stick. We’re persistent,” Hen backs him up.

“Why are you all ganging up on me?”

“Come on, you’re big tough, macho Navy SEAL guy, surely you can take us mere civilians,” Chimney taunts.

“Eddie is an army guy too,” Buck points out.

“Yeah, army not SEALs, you can be the one that knows about all that stuff now,” Eddie says.

“You still remember that?”

“Course, I thought there was something weird about you during that shrapnel call. I mean, I wouldn’t have guessed this, but your excuses got a little weird during that one,” Eddie shrugs.

“Oh my god,” Chimney says, just realizing something. “That rappelling business you worked at, did you mean the US government. You called the Navy SEALs a rappelling business.”

“I mean, they technically are when you think about it,” Buck defends himself. “They sure made me do a lot of rappelling and rappelling training.”

“I can’t believe you,” Hen shrieks, though it’s slightly delighted.

“And I assume the paintball range you worked for according to Athena is also the US government,” Bobby joined in.

“God, you’re excuses were pretty bad in hind sight.”

“Hey, you guys all believed me, so that is mostly on you.”

“Oh you did not just call us stupid!”

“Stop, Hen, your elbow hurts.”

“Ach, stop your whining.”

They continue to bicker as they drive away from the scene and back to the fire house. Buck knows it will take some getting used to, having this part of his life exposed. However, it’s nice to be able to share this with his family.

As much as he likes the people he knows from his time as Navy SEAL, it never felt fully right to bond with them over the things they’ve done. That team was always more like a fostering, the 118 is his forever home.

~~

A/N:

I'm sorry if the layout looks weird, im having issues with my landlord abt wifi, so i had to do this on my phone :D

#rr writing #9 1 1 #911 #911 abc #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hen wilson #chimney han #bobby nash #athena grant #navy seal!buck #9 1 1 fanfiction #118 firefam #firefam #tw: guns #tw: military

[rbinsgf]

Just thinking about Gojo and Tsumiki because I don’t have enough arts or fic about Satoru taking care of the sweetest little girl ever ????! (A crime imo)

Just imagine Gojo letting her do his hair while she rants about her day, putting stickers on his face, her putting on glittery nail polish on his hands as he sits there ranting about HIS day like a teenage girl.

Tsumiki always leaving food for him when she knows he’s gonna come late from missions, also leaving him breakfast in the morning.

Gojo making sure that she gets to live life as a kid, relieving her of the burden of taking care of her younger brother.

Satoru never leaves for (long) missions before kissing her (and megumi even if he fights him like his life depends on it) goodbye.

The both of them rallying against Megumi for fun. Tsumiki never daring to ask for anything ever but Gojo keeps on buying her everything and more.

Gojo putting her high up on his shoulder as her tiny hands clutch to his spiky hair. (Megumi’s probably frowning and grumbling about how he is a big boy who doesn’t need to get on anyone’s shoulders especially NOT Gojo’s) (He ends up on his shoulders at some point)

Gojo calling Shoko in panic when Tsumiki gets her periods before proceeding to buy her the entire female hygiene products corner of the store and not allowing her to move an inch from the couch. (He paid megumi to fan her with a leaf for the whole day uninterrupted)

Tsumiki noticing the strain and fatigue behind Gojo’s smiles and his over the top attitude, so she doubles down on the kindness and gentle attentions. Always voicing her gratitude and admiration towards Satoru.

Cuddles, lots and lots of cuddles.

On hard days he let her sleep in his bed, watching upon her, vowing to himself that he won’t ever let anything happen to his angel.

Satoru is DISTRAUGHT the first time she goes on a school trip or at a friend’s house for more than a day. (Megumi refuses to cuddle with him)

They get matching keychains, a goofy looking duck for Satoru and a cute little duckling with a flower crown for Tsumiki. (Megumi also has one, it’s a black duckling with a cracked egg on its head Calimero style)

Gojo going to her dance recitals, parent/teacher meetings, taking her shopping and picking flowers in parks, showering her with love and care and ensuring her safety at all cost.

✋🏻

⏮️

Safety

When Tsumiki falls into her coma due to the curse, Gojo goes on a rampage for four days straight.

He doesn’t sleep for weeks and overuse his body and brain to the extent that one day he nearly collapses in Shoko’s office.

He was angry. Angry at the world, at jujutsu, at this stupid curse, at Tsumiki for getting cursed, at Toji because it’s his fault he cares so much, at Shoko for not being able to fix Tsumiki, at Megumi who refuses to get out of his room.

Mostly he is angry at himself. He loathes his power, he feels ironically useless, helpless, weak.

He failed to protect Tsumiki. Sweet, brave and kind Tsumiki.

Satoru Gojo failed to protect his daughter despite being the Strongest.

Satoru Gojo always has three things on him : candies, his blindfold, and a duck keychain.

(The only thing motivating him to get back up and keep going was Megumi)

(He always keep one of his eye on a specific hospital bed in a private clinic in Tokyo, there’s always a duckling keychain and fresh flowers on the nightstand.)

(Years later, Gojo faces Sukuna wearing Megumi’s face, feeling like he failed his child once again)

(He refuses, won’t, can’t, look at Tsumiki’s lifeless body on the battlefield).

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk gojo #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #gojo and megumi #fushiguro tsumiki #tsumiki and megumi #parental gojo #Satoru is Megumi and Tsumiki’s father #dad gojo #angst #jjk angst #Tsumiki my sweet angel #Tsumiki and megumi and gojo #jjk found family #fuck you gege

[astroyongie]

Chan for angst game

You know we had to do it 🤣😂😂

-> warnings: established relationship, angst, curse words

Everyone knew you loved Bangchan. You both were dating for over a year and half now and things have been doing terribly well. Perhaps even too well, to the point where people accused you of being too much into him. Although you did everything you could for your boyfriend, you didn't realized that he was taking from you that much.

That until, your boyfriend had received a work opportunity to go to Korea. You were excited for him and you wanted nothing more for Chan to be successful in his career and on the path that he had been working on his whole life. You had been supporting him so far, and seeing him succeeding was heartwarming.

But there was a problem.

Bangchan wanted you by his side. Rightfully so, but doing that meant you had to quit your own job, leave your family and friends behind. Leave the whole life you had behind. Everyone around you told you not to, and again, rightfully so. You guys hadn't been dating more long and you were barely 18. The thought alone of all the consequences and possibilities was enough to plunge you into an anxious spiral. 

“I don’t understand why you don’t want to come,” Bangchan spat, his angry frown focused in front of the suitcase he was filling. 

You were on top of the bed, legs crossed. Biting down on your finger, you tried your best to remain calm. It has been one week since you both had this conversation back to back. Arguments escalated and everyday you ended up crying and Bangchan, upset because he wouldn't understand why you, his precious girlfriend, wouldn't come with him. 

“I just can’t leave everything behind”

“Everything?” he asked, looking back at you. “What exactly are you leaving behind?”

You frowned. “My friends–”

“You don’t have any friends” the words came out dry, a tint of mockery on his bitter tongue as he cut you halfway. You felt yourself grimace. 

“That’s low, Chan” 

“Low, is you trying to ditch me to stay behind, with a family that mistreats you, with friends that hate you and with a job that doesn’t pay well.”

Your lips went shut at his accusations. You couldn’t believe that he was being so mean, so petty, for the simple fact that you couldn't-, no, wouldn't, come with him. The bedroom went extremely quiet, you soft tears rolling down your cheeks as you did the best to control your breathing. Chan kept tossing his clothing into the suitcase. You were already having a hard time dealing with the fact that your boyfriend would leave, but now you also had to deal with his stupid guilt tripping. 

"I wish you could see how much this is breaking me." He suddenly said as he closed his suitcase. You looked up at him. It was hard to discern between the truth and the lies rolling off his tongue.

“I can’t Chan..”

"Why" His voice was ice cold. A warning.

"Because I can't throw everything away just to leave with you-"

That’s when something snapped inside of Bangchan, who’s face flicked in anger. "Fuck Y/n, you are supposed to be by my side! Why can’t you ever do something for me?”

“I do everything for you!” you quickly spat back, not wanting to take any more of his words. Your eyes were stinging but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of crying. Or at least, you tried. 

Bangchan took a step towards you, grabbing your forearm which made you stand up from the bed. “So what? you can’t abandon them but you can abandon me? Is that what you are saying? after all I did for you’”

You ripped your arm from his strong grasp, the fury behind his iris making your legs tremble. “If you want to leave, do it. But I am not leaving my life behind when there’s no guarantee that things will work in your favor" 

"Wow" He said, clapping his hands dramatically. "Thank you y/n, I always knew I could count on you"

The harsh words made your big fat tears escape your eyes, without permission. You looked away from him as he opened the door of his bedroom. 

“Just get the fuck out” he murmured. 

It was stupid really. The way he was so mad about this, when you guys could have eventually figured it out together. it was ridiculous, the way you had left his bedroom, his home, crying like the pathetic thing he saw you for. But perhaps fate did well. Perhaps, you and Bangchan were never meant to be to begin with. 

#bangchan #bangchan x reader #bangchan angst #bangchan stray kids #stray kids #stray kids bangchan #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids blurbs

[casp1an-sea]

Cassander “Cas” Armyn My Spidersona

(the second one is what Ey looks like in Eir universe. Scroll all the way down to see more outfits and character designs)

Age: 18

Gender: Transmasc

Height: 5’1.75”

Pronouns: He/Him/Ey/Em

—————————————————————————

none of these are completely 100% accurate to how I view them in my head because I am always changing his character and universe

———————————————————————— Universe: 131313

best described as an abstract art piece that is alive. Gravity shifts changing up to down and down to up. like in the art piece “Relativity”. It’s almost like a normal city, but the gravity shifts cause it to look like skyscrapers are jutting out at random angles, or even just floating in the sky. (kind of think mirror dimension from Doctor Strange) color, ships and changes as if it’s a separate being creating, a black-and-white inky world with the floating colored shapes. some are small while some are big covering home buildings but they never stay in one place or stay the same shape or size for long. The color of this universe is almost alive. (Similar to the color in “Sith” the first episode of season, two of Star Wars visions) for example, touching an object, would push the color of the object away as the color of your hand displaces it. The color that comes off with your hand when you touch things is unique to every person. And it seems like it has a mind of its own, making constantly shifting works of art around you. Technology is about the same as our universe but the animals and foliage is otherworldly and everything has a painterly feel and the “line art” is always sketchy and smudgy similar to my own. The grass is purple and liquids float.

Canon Events:

Spider bite

Close person death

Commander death

—————————————————————————

Extra:

Has been Spider-Man for roughly 4 years, in the Spider Society for 2

Movement signature: Uses alot of elements of acrobatics and gymnastics so tends to do complex jumps and flips. Enjoys falling as long as possible before catching Emself.

Goes by both his first and last name

Flaps hands when nervous or excited

Has Eczema and psoriasis

His color is bright orange 

Produces web naturally so doesn’t need web shooters but in order to continually produce silk he does eat it

Has fangs but has no clue what they do as he has no desire to bite anything 

Can see extremely long distances and also see in UV color spectrum 

Carries a spiky shield on his back resembling a yellow kite spider (can also use it as a weapon by attaching a web to it so he can throw it and pull it back) (I swear I made this up before I got obsessed with Captain America)

Shoulder panels lift up on the suit and can shoot out small needles, inspired by the tarantula; they act similar to whistling birds from Star Wars, however they just knock people out rather than exploding

Suit is decorated in paint markings to resemble real life spiders; like most art in the universe they shift and change

Has heat receptors over the eyes on the suit

—————————————————————————

Backstory: In Cassander’s  universe Alchemax was a company that closed down years ago. Casander grew up with his parents and younger sister in brooklyn. They always had a strained relationship. When Cassander way 15 Ey moved into Peter Parker’s house where he was living with his aunt and uncle so that he could attend Peter’s school. Cassander was best friends with Peter and later Harry Osborn. Peter was often bullied at school and wanted nothing more than to be popular. He used his friendship with Harry as an In to the popular kid cliche but they really only ever teased him and Cassander often had to deal with the aftermath. Cassander never hung around Harry at school much because Harry was still friends with the popular kids like Ned Leeds and Flash Thompson. While Harry did try to get his popular friends not to pick on Peter they often gave him too much slack which is something he and Cassander argued over a lot. One day the  popular kids told Peter that if he wanted to join their click he had to do an initiation ceremony. He had to stay the night in the abandoned alchemex building. Cassander tried to tell Peter that this was just to make him look stupid and asked him not to do it because it was dangerous but  Peter refused. Cassander tried to get a hold of Harry but he wouldn’t answer so instead Cassander decided that he had to go in as well and make sure Peter stayed safe. That was the night Cassander was bitten after brushing the spider off of peter. They also stumbled upon a laboratory Norman Osborn had been using to make the green goblin serum, but saw nothing because of green fog that filled the room. Peter got cut on some glass So Cassander talked him into leaving. When they exited Harry had arrived. The next day Cassander discovered Eir spider abilities. That night Cassander snuck out and decided to return To Alchemax alone to try and find the spider. Instead He had his first encounter with a Green goblin. Cassander decided he would forget about his powers and try to live normally. Harry stopped hanging out with Ned and him and Cassander got together. The next Peter looked a little strange and was acting weird.  Throughout the week peter began to act stranger and stranger. Finally one night Cassander realized he was acting like a green goblin and assumed the cut had become infected. Cassander revealed this to Peter, revealing Eir spider powers in the process. Peter wanted to return to Alchemax but Cassander said no. The next day Harry asked Cassander to go out and eat dinner with his Dad (Norman aka green goblin). Harry ended up running out of that dinner cause his dad is a bitch. Little did Cassander know he was going to Alchemax because he had stayed after Cassander and petter had left the other night and discovered his dads lab. Norman asked Cassander to stay in the desert. He reluctantly agreed but things got tense and. Norman started acting strange, violent even, Cassandee ran away in fear accidentally stumbling upon Norman’s green goblin mask. He rushed home to tell Peter but when he got home Peter wasn’t there Cassander knew that he  had gone back to Alchemax. It was too late he had been killed by green goblin, Who Cas did not know was not Norman this time but Harry. Peter's death inspired Cassander to become Spider-Man. As spider man he often worked alongside police captain Gwen Stacy until she was ultimately killed when Cassander couldn’t save her. Norman Osborn as green goblin accidentally killed himself in a fight with spider-man who hid Norman was green goblin for Harry’s sake. Harry believed spiderman had killed him. infected by the goblin serum became mad hunting down spider man. The two ultimately found out each other's identities and it was revealed that Harry killed Peter not Norman. They’re relationship is on an indefinite break, but they haven’t technically broken up, it’s complicated. —————————————————————————

Other Cassander Outfits, I was too lazy to edit the pajamas

—————————————————————————

Harold “Harry” Osborn “Green Goblin”

Unlabeled gender, He/They

—————————————————————————

Peter Parker

Male He/Him

—————————————————————————

DR. Chuwi Quispe Mamani

(This universe’s Dr. Strange)

Agender They/Them

————————————————————Aaron Davis

—————————————————————————

@xen-blank, @thehollowwriter, @l7k-a, @ferris-the-wheel, @keii-starz

@krenenbaker @elenauaurs @the-banana-0verlord @edith-is-a-cat @dove-da-birb

@theosb0rnway @fizzydreamz @ravenwing0110

@diabollicallyangelic @xentari94 @tomatette

@dragonflies-draw-flame @sunshinechildskywalker @silly-little-goober-core

#cas’s ocs #spider verse #spider man #spidersona #harry osborn #aaron davis #peter parker #dr. strange #self insert