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theywhowriteandknowthings · 8 months

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Creep - Dark!Joel/Creepy Neighbour!Joel x Reader Dark fic.

Taking part in the Haunted Hoedown - I did a randomised one so here we goooo:

Prompts: Urban Legend(s), “I’m so close, can you feel it?”, fate worse than death, mirror sex, the creepy neighbour is too hot to be insane, right? Thank you @psychedelic-ink and @inklore for setting this up! [Extra thanks to @beefrobeefcal and @patti7dc for beta reading this to let me know if it hit right!] [Read on Ao3]

Part 2 of 3 here:

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific warnings: This is a dark fic, it’s twisted af, Joel is a creep, Joel is mean and fucking nasty in this, drug use, dubcon(reader is high AF), coercion, mouth fucking, unprotected PiV, Creampie, breeding kink, degredation(lots of Joel calling Reader a slut/whore etc.), (heavy)stalker vibes, let me know if I missed anything! Enjoy you beautiful THOTs.

Creep.

You’d heard the stories, of the creepy neighbour down the hall, the one Jenny said to avoid like the plague. But she also thought that pot smoking was the work of the devil, and that sex before marriage was a fate worse than death. But you didn’t listen too hard, especially when you realised just how hot Mr Miller was. You’d bumped into him a few times when collecting your mail, or when you’d snuck up onto the roof to smoke.

Tonight is one of the latter. The fire escape rattles as you hear the tell-tale groan of Mr Miller, it’s weird how a pained groan could make your stomach flutter as heat rises on your cheekbones. You take a long drag, the tickling burn of pot threatening to make you cough but you stay quiet, waiting for him to make it up to the roof.

“Damned knee,” He grumbles to himself, cresting over the roof of the building like a bed-headed angel, fuck the pot is already affecting you as you giggle quietly at your own train of thought. The sound makes Joel perk up, dark eyes locking onto yours as he realises he’s not alone, “Hey there gorgeous.” He says with his syrupy Texan drawl dripping from every word.

“Evening Mr Miller.” You say as you take another hit, flicking the ash over the side of the building. Your legs dangle over the edge, feet bare in the oppressive New York summer air.

“Please, sweetheart call me Joel.” He says with an exasperated sigh, as he trudges over to you, his equally bare feet slapping softly on the flat rooftop.

“Mind if I join you?” He asks, sitting just far enough away from you to give you some space.

“Never,” You say as you offer him your blunt, which he willingly accepts, “Always a riveting conversation with you Mr-, I mean Joel.” You giggle to yourself, the high already making you feel light and airy as you can’t help the stream of giggles that erupt from your lips as Joel eyes you with a look you can’t quite perceive.

“You been up here long sweetheart?” He asks and you swear he inches closer to you, but you either don’t care, or the weed is just making you horny and hopeful. Maybe it’s all of the above.

“Not long, just been a long week.” You say airily as you watch the older man purse his lips around the tip of the joint, you feel the ache between your legs build as you watch the tendrils of smoke escape from his mouth as he exhales.

“It’s Tuesday sweetheart.” He chuckles, handing you back the joint and for a second your fingers brush against one another and you find yourself chasing his touch. His eyes sparkle in the darkness as he notices your parted lips, knees clamped together as you try and relieve some of the ache in your soaked cunt.

“Don’t remind me.” You grumble as you lie back on the rooftop, a heavy sigh leaving you as you try not to think about how hot Joel is, how his grey sweatpants leave nothing to the imagination. You also try very hard not to get caught staring as you realise his dark eyes are glued to you.

“You ok there babygirl?” The new nickname makes your cunt throb and you know your eyes are wide and glassy as you try to make up an excuse.

“Sorry just-,” You start but Joel lies down next to you stretching his arms above his head, the hem of his t-shirt pulling up far enough that you get a glimpse of the stretch of tan skin, dappled with curls leading down to the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Just what babygirl? You checking out this old dog?” He grumbles but you can hear the humour in his tone.

“Maybe,” You say with yet another string of giggles as you, “What of it?”

“Just surprised such a beautiful girl like you would be interested in someone like me.” He says with a shrug as a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Whaddaya mean? Like you?” You ask, already noting how slurred your speech has become.

“Creepy old neighbour, sniffin’ up all the girls skirts, and so on.” He says with a sigh, as if it actually pained him to say the words.

“Don’t think you’re creepy, pretty hot for an old man.” You say with a giggle, trying to lighten the mood, and it seems to work as he barks out a short laugh.

“Don’t tease babygirl, not nice to kick a man when he’s down.” He grumbles but you can hear the levity in his tone.

“Not teasing, not unless you want me to.” You say as you roll onto your side, looking at him as he mirrors your actions, rolling on his side, you’re almost nose to nose now, the tension between you is palpable as you wet your lips in anticipation.

“You’re high babygirl, don’t go makin’ decisions you’ll regret in the mornin’.” He grumbles but you can hear the strain in his voice. You throw caution to the wind and palm the growing bulge straining against his sweatpants. The moan that escapes him tells you all you need to know as you press your lips softly against his. They’re chapped, warm, plush.

“Take me to bed Joel.” You say softly as you pull back, his eyes are glassy, pupils saucers as he bites down on his lip as he considers it.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He growls and brushes his lips against yours once more before pulling away to roll onto his feet, offering his hand out to you, muscles rippling as he hoists you up.

He helps you down the fire escape, steadying you on the gantries as you try your hardest not to fall helplessly to your demise. Once you’re back at your floor you’re crawling through the window to the hall, stumbling against the wall as your legs wobble.

“Easy there,” Joel coos as he grips your elbow, steading you as he pulls you close, “Your place or mine?” He says softly as he rubs his thumbs back and forth against your biceps.

“Yours, mine’s a dump, don’t want to scare you off.” You admit with a giggle and he rolls his eyes at you as he steers you to his apartment, you note that the door is unlocked as he pushes you into the dimly lit living room.

Immediately his mouth is on yours, a large hand grips your hip, pinning you to him, the other fisted in your hair as he pushes you further into his apartment. Your hands claw at one another’s bodies, stripping you both bare to the humid air as you crash into the unmade bed. All you can smell is Joel, the musk on his bedsheets, the waft of his detergent. It’s all consuming.

“Look at you.” He says darkly as he stands at the end of the bed, bare for you, one hand rubbing the patchy stubble on his chin as the other pumps his length slowly. And length is the right word for it, he’s so big you shudder.

“Mr Miller please.” You whine as you clench around nothing.

“Such a needy brat, c’mere.” He beckons and you scamper up onto your knees to look at him. He smirks and pushes down on your shoulder with one hand, the other still secure on his cock. You’re forced to sit back on your ankles as he pulls your head towards his angry, red tip, beading with precome already.

“Please Mr Miller, fuck me.” You whine as you eye his dick hungrily. You expect him to become bashful, disheartened, but there’s a darkness that settles over his eyes, his posture shifts.

“Suck.” He says with a grunt as he fists his hand in your hair, tugging painfully but you groan at the sensation as your lips are forced against his tip. You whimper as you take the tip into your mouth, suckling gently as your tongue flattens along the underside.

“Fuck, dirty little mouth, knew you were just fucking begging for it, seen the way you look at me babygirl.” He grunts as he rocks his hips slowly, pushing further and further into your mouth. You’ve only got about half of him in your mouth and you’re already struggling. He laughs at you, a cold, condescending sound.

“Shouldn’t pretend to be such a slut if you’re not willing to take my cock babygirl.” He growls as he pulls your head back, opening your throat up for him so he can force the rest of his brutal length into you. His balls rest heavy on your chin as you choke and splutter around him, saliva dripping down your cheeks as you cry at the stretch.

“Fuck, come with me.” He grunts as he unsheathes himself from your mouth, yanking you up with such force your shoulder hurts. He pushes you into his bathroom, bending you over the sink so hard you almost hit the mirror with your head.

“Mr Miller, please, I’m sorry.” You whimper, the anticipation of him fucking you with such a big dick making you shake. But you’re excited at the same time, a sick and twisted desire leaking from you as your arousal coats your thighs.

“Too fuckin’ late sweetheart,” He growls as he notches himself at your entrance, “You wanna act like a slut, gonna treat you like one.”

You cry out as he stretches you out, squirming under him as he bottoms out. You’re so full, raw and split open but it feels so damned good. He fists your hair again and pulls you off the sink to look at him in the mirror. His face is contorted in a sick snarl, you can’t help but whine at how he looks. Dominant and brutal as he uses you.

“Look at you, all fucked out on my thick cock, spearing you like the good little slut you are.” He growls as he fucks into you at pace, not giving you a moment to adjust but it feels too good. You’re drooling, blissed out as a hand comes to your clit, thick, calloused fingers swiping furiously against your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Wanna feel you milk this cock dry little fucking slut.” He growls as he pistons into you as he expertly plays you like a fucking instrument. You feel your release slide down your spine, making your whole body shudder as your clit twitches painfully. You scream as his dick slams into you, your orgasm blurring the edges of fantasy and reality as you fall apart around him.

“Fu-fuuuuck.” Joel groans as he snaps his hips into you a few more times.

“Joel I’m not on birth control.” You babble, the realisation finally hitting you that he isn’t going to pull out.

“Too fuckin’ late you dumb slut, going to fill you up, ‘m so close, can you feel it?” He taunts as you feel him stutter inside you, the sensation of his cum filling you has you whining. It feels so fucking good.

“Fuck.” He grunts as he pulls out of you, immediately walking away, you stagger upright only to have your clothes thrown at you.

“Get dressed and get the fuck out of my apartment you fucking whore.” He snaps and you do as your told, trembling as you dress before scurrying across the hall. You fumble with your keys, as you unlock the door and quickly slip inside, locking the door from within as you slump to a heap against the door.

Your smile is so broad it hurts as you make yourself get up and head to bed, not bothering to shower. You flop down onto the pristinely made bed and laugh to yourself as you prop a pillow under your tailbone, staring up at the ceiling as you hope it takes. You’re ovulating after all.

You smile to yourself as you look up at the collage above you. Blown up photos of Joel from his social media, snaps you took on the sly on nights like tonight on the rooftop, that one time you caught him jacking off on the roof while high on god knows what. Your secret shrine on full display as you pray his seed will take. He thought he was in control, fucking you like he was the one pulling the strings but he was wrong, so very wrong.

“You’re going to be mine Miller, all fucking mine,” You groan as you play with your clit, arching your hips up so no more of his spend leaves you, “All fucking mine.”

Part 2 of 3 here:

Tagging for interest: @beefrobeefcal @cool-iguana @gracieispunk @toxicanonymity

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turtlecleric · 3 months

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Me: We don't give rise!Raph enough attention

Me to me: Then write something for him

Me: ...

Me: You've convinced me

Female pronouns used, suggestive toward the end but nothing happens because Raph is a gentleman, I promise

---

"Told you she wouldn't last."

For a moment, Raph doesn't know what Leo's talking about. Then he follows his brother's amused gaze to where you're passed out on the couch and smirks right along with him. You'd been so adamant - so stubborn. All those claims that yes, you were gonna make it through all three movies they'd picked. Yes, really. All three. 100%, for sure, you would not fall asleep. And here you were. Halfway through the first one and already out cold.

You make a small sound in your sleep, your brow twitching slightly before smoothing out once more. Raph feels himself soften, feels his smirk shift into a genuine smile. He couldn't blame you, really. You'd taken a double shift today and still come by for movie night. Even now, as you slept, he could see the exhaustion weighing you down.

"Eh, leave her alone, Leo," Raph says, keeping his voice low despite how loud the others were being as they quoted the movie and tossed popcorn into each other's mouths. "She deserves some rest."

Leo is quiet for a moment. Then he speaks with a tone that hints at something that Raph doesn't quite catch. "She deserves to sleep somewhere better than our ratty couch. Don't you think?"

Raph pulls his eyes away from your face, trying to read Leo's expression and failing. He's not smirking anymore, but there's something there that Raph isn't seeing. "...Yeah. I guess so."

Leo hums. The corners of his mouth tick upward. "Maybe you should take her to your room. Quieter there, yeah? More comfy, too."

Raph narrows his eyes. Searches Leo's face. Looks back at you, noting that your neck is at an awkward angle against the arm of the couch. Looks back at Leo.

Hm. That tone usually means Leo is up to something, but he's not wrong. And Raph would hate for you to get woken up by their stupid shenanigans after you'd had such a long week.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll, uh," Raph grunts as he pushes himself up to stand. "I'll let her have my room tonight."

He gently scoops you up, and his stomach does a strange little flutter. Too much soda. Or too much pizza, maybe. Either way, he pushes it down, carrying you slowly so he doesn't jostle you too much. You're warm. Soft. Pliant in his arms.

He's walking slowly so he doesn't wake you. That's all.

When he makes it to his room, he's pleased to find that it is, in fact, much quieter in here. Slowly, gently, he lowers you into the bed and pulls the covers up to tuck you in. You don't wake, though you do make another soft sound in the back of your throat. There's another flutter in his stomach.

Weird.

He pulls back, knowing he should return to the movie, but. He doesn't move. He doesn't really know why, but he wants to... stay. Watch you sleep.

Wait, that's creepy, isn't it? He should go. He should...

He wants to stay, though.

"Raphie?"

Your voice makes him jump despite how quiet and raspy it is from sleep. He feels his cheeks heat, feels his eyes widen as he takes in your bleary stare. He clears his throat, squeaking out, "Yeah?"

You look so tired. Barely even conscious. Even as you reach out a hand, making a grabby gesture at him, he can tell you're still halfway asleep. It's... really fucking cute. And then you speak again.

"Lay with me?"

Okay, now his chest is doing something weird. He's really starting to wonder if he's actually getting sick or something.

You're still reaching for him, your arm starting to shake in the air and your mouth pulling into an adorable pout despite your eyes having fallen closed once again. Then you make a sound of distress that has him huffing out an exasperated, fond sigh.

You're gonna be so embarrassed when you wake up tomorrow, Raph thinks.

He climbs into bed, settling in behind you. Careful, always careful, he places an arm across your waist and holds you closer. It's not close enough, apparently, as you scoot yourself backward so that your back is flush against his plastron, so that your legs tangle with his. You pull his arm from your waist to your chest, wrapping both of your arms around it and holding it close. He stiffens at that, while you let out a contented sigh.

Something is definitely wrong with him. His heart is beating way too fast, and his chest feels like it's... too full? Or something? He should leave so you don't catch whatever it is that has him feeling so-

You make another breathy sound in your sleep. It's completely innocent, it's just a sound, but at the same time... it does something to him. With him pressed so closely against you, with his arm trapped against your chest and the smell of your shampoo in his nose and the way the blanket falls over your curves, he suddenly has the mortifying thought that he wants to-

Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

He's going to kill Leo tomorrow.

#turtlecleric scrolls #rise!raph

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fairyhaos · 10 months

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how seventeen spend a day off with their s/o at home

requested by anon: can you write: how svt spend their free time at home with their s/o? (i imagine lots of cuddles and domestic stuff, but go give us details)

notes: mentions of violence (video games)

masterlist

seungcheol

sleeps. when he knows he has time to lie in on the weekend, he's turning off both of your alarms, closing the curtains tightly and hugging you against him in bed probably until noon of the next day. mostly bc he can't wait to get some (well deserved) rest and also because there's something soso domestic about going to sleep w you in his arms and waking up to your relaxed, sleeping face

jeonghan

is all "we should do something" but can never decide on what to do. it's weird, bc whenever he talks about what he'd do if he ever had a day off, he says that he's going to sleep through it. and then when a day off comes, he wants to Do things. takes so long to decide that he ends up doing nothing, but it's okay bc he had fun making you laugh while deciding what he wanted to do

joshua

asks you what you wanna do and goes along with anything from there. wanna watch a movie? okay baby tell him which one and in fact, let's watch ten. wanna have an entire spa day at home? ooh pls let him join he's always wanted to do one of those. the sweetest and softest actually, gazing at you adoringly the entire time bc he just loves spending time w you so, so much.

junhui

i don't know many video games, but jun seems like the type to bust out those nintendo games with the hand-held controllers that connect to the tv, or mario kart or something, and you spend the better part of the day yelling at each other while shaking the controls at the screen. pouts so bad if he loses, asks for conciliatory kisses and conciliatory cuddles, or else he's going to be sulking the entire day

hoshi

needs to be entertained every single minute otherwise his head is going to implode. hangs off of you like a koala the entire time, bc he gets so clingy when it's just the two of you, and honestly it's a little adorable to have a soft hoshi squished against your shoulder. watches you play games on your phone, has a nap while hugging you and needs to be woken up in the evening to have dinner

wonwoo

he's gaming on his computer for the entire day actually. you can sit in his bed and watch him, but if you whine for long enough then he'll probably let you sit on his lap provided you don't fidget too much. tries to teach you how to play before you tell him that you'd much rather just watch him. smiles at you during a lull in the game and kisses your forehead before going back to committing acts of violence against pixelated characters

woozi

initially planned to have a lie in w you that morning, but his body is so trained to getting up early that it didn't work. stares at you sleeping for about an hour or so. not in a creepy way, just in a very fond "you're adorable when you're asleep even when you're making small snoring sounds" kind of way. doesn't really do much the entire day, stays in bed w you before you both eventually get up to have some dinner

minghao

puts on music, sits on the sofa, and reads. needs to have you curled up against him tho, and you'll both read your respective books while the music swells around you. lets you do anything you want really, petting your hair when you headbutt his hand, interlacing your fingers with his when you nudge his wrist. smiles at you over his book, eyes soft with love

mingyu

bakes. bakes batches n batches of cookies with you even if you say you're terrible at baking bc "nonsense no one's terrible at baking". almost breaks the stand mixer by nearly dropping it when he's getting it out of the cupboard. pinches your cheeks while his hands are covered in flour. lets you lick the spoon afterwards, ruffling your hair and calling you cute. still with flour on his hands.

dokyeom

stages impromptu karaoke sessions for the whole day. you don't even need to have a karaoke machine, he'll just put those sing-along videos on the tv and jump around screaming the lyrics with you. sings the entire day, even if you get tired, and eventually ends up serenading you with love songs before abandoning the karaoke to kiss you nice and sweetly, the music muffled in the background.

seungkwan

idk like mingyu he probably also bakes. wants to be like those aesthetic pinterest girlies w cream and strawberry cakes with pretty piping, and it goes pretty well? he has fun baking w you, and tries to make that dalgona coffee afterwards but gives up after a bit bc his arms started to hurt. but good thing is his cake tasted rlly nice, especially bc it was made with his love for you :D ("kwan that doesn't make sense" "shh yes it does")

vernon

binge watches tv shows and movies with you. you get out all the snacks, pile them up on the coffee table, and then turn on the television and watch countless episodes of american sitcoms or netflix shows or, one time, (almost) the entirety of the mcu. it's a day of laughing at the screen, hansol's arm a warm and comforting weight against yours, eating junk and feeling utterly relaxed with him by your side

chan

days off with chan are probably very spontaneous and could be anything. one time you spent the entire day watching ted talks and tried to perform stand up comedy to each other after a particularly interesting video. another time you played monopoly on the app for three hours straight then had to stop before you threw his phone against the wall in frustration. they're always very relaxed days, but it's fun nevertheless

request guidelines

reactions taglist: @jeonghanis @magicaltonaru @milkbreadnotmilkcoffee @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @turningcarat @nakedgrapes @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @iheartyujin @summery-bat @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @interlude-z @ejspencer14 @cinnamoroxie @wonranghaeee @saythename-chess @yonabutnotyuna @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @butiluvu @sunshinekyeom-sang @ocyeanicc @uramarica @zozojella @thesmellofcoffeeandrain @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay

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cybercl0ne · 5 months

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Mine. // Stalker Shigaraki x f!reader // Part: 1

Summary: shigaraki has you in his arms and doesn’t plan on letting you go.

TW: 18+, stalking, non-con (rape), knife play, mentions of breeding, size kink

You wake up hazy and not in tune with much of anything. It’s pitch black and the atmosphere feels cold and thin. You frantically tried to remember the events that led you to this predicament but came up short when you blanked.

“Finally, you’re awake. I started to think I gave you to big of a dose.” A voice echos. You move your head in an attempt to identify the scratchy par-asocial voice. When you head the small chuckle the mystery man let out your mind glazed through the horrors that you forgot. You tried to move your arms and legs but quickly found out that they were bound. You mustered up your pride and opened your lips to beg.

“please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything. I’m begging you-“ you plead, rambling unknowing what the intention of this man was. Your face felt sweaty with fear as you felt the man’s hand graze your body. His hand tracing your collar bone, slowly traveling down your sly, clothed breast and down to your sleek calves. You shivered unintentionally under his touch, his slim cold fingers still feeling present on your skin.

“I’ve waited so long to have you. 2 years darling…~” the man says, lowering his fingers to uncover the blindfold that was attached to your face. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness you say clearly of the man’s features. His blue and frizzy hair that looked unkempt, his slim appearance with an ounce of lean muscle, defined enough. “W-why are you doing this?” You cry out, looking for sympathy in the situation. But when you say the way his eyes were shielded by hearts and sinister thoughts you knew there was no sympathy to be given.

“To be honest I’m not so sure myself. I saw you one day and knew you were different from everyone else. You had a spark that ignited something in my dim world. I’d only been in your presence for a second but it felt as if I’d known you my entire life.” He rambled, his tent in his pants growing as you squirm to get away from this all to creepy confession. You swear you saw him drool as he confessed, his face locked on yours.

“I know this isn’t ideal but it’s something that we’ll work on together, and maybe soon you’ll even warm up to your new life, then we can start our family. Oh I can’t wait to stuff you full of my cock and breed your cunt.~”

you shiver on the last part, your eyes growing but as you realize your situation. You looked around for any sign of life. You screamed as loud as you could, tugging and fighting against the hard restraints. Shigaraki rushed to close your mouth, wrapping the blindfold over your mouth.

“Darling I know this is a hard adjustment but trust me when I say screaming is not in your favor. If you wanna make it through our first time together without losing your tongue I strongly suggest keeping that voice down.” He warns, flashing his knife to your face. Your wide eyes trace it, mewling and whimpering as it drew closer to your cheek. you tried to protest as best you could, only gurgling nonsense through the gag in your mouth. “I’ve wanted to touch your precious body while you were awake for so long baby.~ I promise we’ll have lots of fun.” He says as he traces your chest with his lips. You whimper under the weird sensation of skin to skin, as you try to wriggle away. For the moment you completely ignore the fact that this man is responsible for all the weird and unexplained events that happen in your life that you always quickly dismissed. You squirmed harder, yelling muffled curses at him as tears fell down your face. “I wouldn’t be so quick to move.” He warns, bringing his knife with his lips as he moves to your supple breast, kneeding your nipple through the cheap thin fabric. You continue to whimper and fuss under the gag, it getting darker as it collects stray spit.

“it’s so lovely to hear you sing whimpers for me~ I want to take your gag off? Can I do that darling? Can I trust you’ll be a good girl and not scream?” You don’t respond as you continue to mewl under his touch, feeling and watching as he closes in on your pussy. Shigaraki unwraps your gag off your mouth, his face leaning into yours as his fingers glide to your wet panties.

you shake your head, closing your eyes in embarrassment, not wanting to see the man’s face as he smirked. “All for me baby? Your all soaked for me? I’m flattered.” He snickered as he took off your clothes, your bottom half coming off first, your upper half growing goosebumps as he shook it off of you. He slipped your homemade gag off in the process.

“p-please don’t I-I’ve never done anything like this before…” you whisper, your face feeling heated as you admit it. If Shigaraki could he would cum right now, the only stopping him is that he was saving it for you. So much of his cum wasted on his hand when it could be inside your body, a piece of him with you no matter where you are. Not that you’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.

“don’t worry we’ll go nice and slow~ at least I’ll try.” He added, whisking his fingers over your unprotected pussy, your slick coating his finger as he pushes it past your barrier. You arch your back instinctively, his long fingers reaching places you wouldn’t have thought they could go.

“I knew you’d like my fingers darling, I’ve seen the way you masterbated. Never being truly fulfilled by rubbing your poor clit. You need someone to satisfy you.” He ranted. Your pussy only grew more wet as he explained while thrusting his fingers in and out of you. “p-please… I-I don’t want it!” You begged, huffing as you pleaded, your body betraying you as a wet spot grew on the bed.

Shigaraki laughed, adding another finger in while thrusting his thumb onto your clit. You screeched, moaning for him to stop. “You know you can’t deny me! It’s what your body wants. You might be spewing no but your body tells me what you really want. What you need.” He monologues, giving your pussy a strong slap. You both listen to how your cunt squirts a small amount. You feel your stomach coiling as his hands speed up, your cunt squeezing around as he hits plush parts of your organs.

“I-I can’t hold it any longer! I-I’m gonna-“ you groan, closing your eyes tightly as you squeeze against his hand feeling yourself lose control. “yes baby, that’s it, cum on my fingers like the happy slut you are.” He says, placing his face close to your cunt to get front row seats to your cum. You rut your hips into his fingers as they ram their way in and out of you. As you arch your back you release, squirting hard over his fingers and face. You stick your tongue out as your mind goes blank. You’d never felt that way in your life, you saw mini sparks flying through your vision as your clit throbbed. Shigaraki happily slurped any parts of you he could catch, cunt hungry as he went into your pussy to suck and prod at your pussy for more of your sacred juices. You moaned, trying to shield them with your hand over your mouth, your cunt hitting his mouth heavily. “It seems like your sweet pussy wants this.” He chuckled under his breath, lapping up the last of your juices. You flinch as he gives your lips a hard smack, your slick bouncing off of your needy cunt as it clenches around nothing. “P-please just let me go… I-I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me-“ He quickly hushes you by pressing his lips on yours.

“Darling why would you wanna leave now? The fun’s just starting. This is just the beginning of our new life together!~” He rambled, kissing back down your body as he stroked his cock above your pussy, his pre cum dripping down your stomach. You observed his dick, watching as it twitched while you made consistent eye contact. Your eyes grew wide as he leaned his tip into your slit, lining it against you. You felt the small yet tense pressure as he gently pressed it against you. “N-no way! I-it’s not gonna fit!” You shrieked, wriggling around. Shigaraki pressed his hand down on your thigh, gripping you in place. “It’s bigger than it looks. I’ll make it fit baby, don’t worry you just lay down and keep crying tears for me~” he teases, stroking your face with his available hand. You shook your head, groaning at the tight intrusion as Shigaraki starts plowing through your cunt.

You arched your back, feeling your body set on fire as he kept going. Your eyes could shed tears fast enough as shigaraki finally bottomed out, finally inside you. You panted hard as Shigaraki paused for a quick intermission, taking the time and to kiss up and down your face, peppering you in praise. “You’re doing so damn good, taking my cock like a good girl. I told you it would fit baby, don’t you see my cock bulging your stomach, twitching just for you? Isn’t it beautiful?” He questions, staring at you smiling as brightly as possible while you closed your eyes and begged for this all to be some really fucked lucid dream. The searing pain went slightly down, your wincing slowly turning into neediness. Shigaraki took note on your reaction and took it as a sign to continue. “Is my cock hungry whore desperate for more? I guess all that begging was for foreplay.” He adds, coming close to your ear, rutting gently in and out of you, your stomach squeezing at every vein that hits past your walls. Shigaraki bends down to your face, kissing you passionately, also taking the advantage to thrust. You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as he locks his lips with yours. “Does it feel good honey? Do you like your lovers fat cock ramming inside you?” He playfully teases, pulling all the way out before slamming back in with a speedy pace. You cry out, for what you can’t be sure anymore. At first it was about being let go but now your mind was blank and the only thing stopping you from passing out from the rough pace was shigaraki’s soft yet menacing voice, scratching at your ears in the right place. You nod hesitantly, tears blinding you from clearly seeing his face. He grunts, his cock twitching as if he’s about to explode. “I said…” he winded up, pulling out of you and rubbing his tip on your clit, his twitching rose colored tip glazing your bruised hole. “Do you like my cock ramming inside you?” You wriggle to purposely pop his cock where it belongs, only to look desperate. You whine, feeling your close climax winding down, your cunt clenching around nothing. “Say it baby so I can stuff your pretty cunt~” “Say it so you can cum with me…” He glares, waiting for your words to fall from your lips, his red eyes blazing down on you. “Y-yes! Yes I love your big fat cock ramming into my little cunt!” You give in, swallowing your shame for sweet release that awaited you. Shigaraki made no attempts to hide how pleased he was with your lewd confession, slowly yet happily sliding his cock deep in your cunt, easily gliding to your cervix. You arch your back, the tense shock of intimacy driving you mad. Shigaraki loses control, feeling your neediness for him drove him over the edge as he grips your thighs, taking a bite of them as he pounds you crazily. Your tits bounce around so hard you get fearful they might come off. Shigaraki kisses praises into your collarbone, biting and licking it, leaving his mark as he feels himself drawing close. “g-gonna cum…g-gonna cum again!” You scream, clenching onto his shoulders, looking down at your pussy getting demolished by the fuck machine above you. “Shigaraki! D-don’t stop! God so good!” You say, your nerves sensitive as Shigaraki grunts, his eyes filled with desire as he dives for your perked breast, biting the hyper sensitive nipple.

“gonna cum to baby, cum on my cock. Go on, cum for your man!” He shouts, feeling himself drive over the edge. You cum, closing your eyes as they spark. He follows close behind, slamming on last time as deep as he can inside you, unloading his cum. You touch your stomach, tired and fucked out, you feel the warmth that burrows inside you as shigaraki slowly pulls out, his cock still twitching. He lays beside you, wrapping his arm around your naked body, his other hand holding your waist tight. “So fucking good, you’re such a good girl…” he whispers, kissing your hair, falling asleep.

As you come down from your high, your heart goes back to sinking, your pussy inflated with cum that’s still dripping out, and your mind a jumbled mess. You stare into the darkness, deciding that you’d wait a couple of minutes, hell, hours for him to fall asleep before you try and get up and move.

The clock shined bright, 6:00 A.M, the only thing in the room with light. You slowly got up, plucking his hand from your body carefully. Shigaraki rustles, grunting as he tightens for a second. His face growing into a scowl before he transitions back into a peaceful rest. You sigh a short lived breath of relief, not wanting to think about the consequences if he found you doing this. You got up, walking. You didn’t know where you were walking to. You didn’t even know if you were in an apartment anymore, you did know you needed to keep moving. So that’s what you did. “If I can just find anything…” you whispered to yourself, a sad attempt to soothe your fears. You felt like you were walking on pins, taking any wrong step could result in him waking-

“going somewhere?” Shigaraki said blank. His voice was flat and surprising. You jumped and didn’t dare look behind you, knowing whatever face he was making, he wasn’t gonna be any happier to see yours like this. He doesn’t wait for your reply, instead gripping your hair rough and clicking his tongue, disappointed. “Y/n I’m not new to this. I’ve stalked you for a long time now, you don’t think I wouldn’t notice that you weren’t sleeping? I’m almost hurt more by the fact you’d try that on me more than I am about your little “attempt” to leave me.” You kick and scream, shouting every curse in the book but he doesn’t respond, only gripping your hair tighter and dragging you down the hall. “I was just getting a drink! I-I wasn’t leaving! I-I needed to pee really bad I-“ He cuts you off, throwing you in a room. It’s almost as dark as the one you were just in, the only light that sourced you was the natural light of the sun that beamed through a very small window. “When you’re ready to behave and come out with a changed attitude we’ll try again. Until then, I’d recommend getting better at tricking me, don’t worry you’ve got a few days to practice.” He says, closing and locking the door quickly before his quiet footsteps leave you alone.

{—————————} Taglist:

@kai-213

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cellarspider · 2 months

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17/?? Inappropriate relations between hugger and face

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

We return to the movie that is a menace to itself and society at large, Prometheus.

Content warning for gore, death, orifice invasion, and, unsurprisingly,

Time to kill the sacrificial side characters! Well, at least, kill the ones that have names and distinct personalities, so that you are expected to feel somewhat bad for them. And I do. They didn’t do anything bad enough to deserve this movie.

I mean, they’re going to die because the movie turns them into morons to make this scene work, but hey. They’re still doing better than the guy who managed to insult his life partner’s father, faith, and infertility in the course of two minutes.

This part of the movie, in fact, leans fully into 80s-90s slasher tropes. The people who’re having sex are all going to have various bad things happen to them throughout the movie, with their severity and dignity depending on whether they display traits considered virtuous. But Fifield the geologist has committed the cardinal sin of hotboxing his suit’s air supply while they wait out the night in the creepy alien structure, so he shall be among the first to die.

To make this work, they have decided to spend the night in the room right next to the decapitated alien body they refused to get near before. They do not seem to mind it now, nor do they find it worrying that the room on the other side of it is full of the black oil from the X-Files.

This is one of the other infamous scenes that everybody remembers about this movie. Millburn is not doing anything that a morally punitive slasher movie would declare worthy of death, but he is going to behave like a moron.

Remember I said ages ago that there was a cut scene where he apparently showed real reverence for the existence of non-humanoid, unintelligent alien life? That was meant to provide context for why he’d be so excited to see the world’s most genital-faced snake.

We, the audience, know that this is probably what’s become of some alien worms last seen being exposed to the Ominous Black Goo. Why didn’t it fully melt them like the Engineer at the start? Not explained! We, the audience weird enough to remember Prometheus twelve years after it came out, should also know that when a snake-like creature rears up, flares open a hood, and makes hissing noises, you should not try to get close to that critter. That is an angry critter, and it is going to do angry things to you.

Millburn is presented as the kind of herp-lover who finds a snakey critter cute, so he should know this too. He does not. That is impressively bad. The one impressively good thing about this scene is that the creature is largely a practical effect, save for in moments where it needs to move in ways a puppet can’t. At the same time, it’s unfortunately hard to tell that it’s real, due to its texture. This helps hide the transitions to CG, but it also leaves you less convinced that it’s there. Sometimes a more obvious puppet can still feel more threatening, because they are indisputably there.

Still, this scene is, despite the stupid context, effective at most of what it wants to do: creating a sudden, brutal spike of violence, with one small creature managing to act as an unstoppable force. Millburn’s arm is broken, Fifield is sprayed with acid blood as he tries to help and falls face-first into the black ooze, leaving Milburn to be killed by the creature as it breaks into his suit and crawls down his throat. It hits two of the usual beats of an Alien movie: acid blood, and overtones of sexual violation.

It made me feel squeamish, although that might have something to do with the fact that it has a weird parallel to a sci-fi comedy movie that had some unpleasant marketing back when I was a wee Spider: Evolution. Apparently, back in 2001, it was considered comedic to watch a giant mosquito crawl under the skin of a man’s thigh and imply that it bit him in the balls. Wee Spider did not agree with this assessment, and so now that’s burnt into my psyche.

The crew of the Prometheus is none the wiser, because nobody kept a watch on the two of them. The last interaction they had was Janek saying ‘hey, we detected movement in there with you, probably just a glitch tho, nbd’ before wandering off to have sex with Vickers.

I want to remind everyone that this is the movie that wants to deal with themes including but not limited to:

The creation and purpose of humanity

The ethical implications of creating human-level artificial intelligence

How religion intersects with science and crises of faith

Are we truly capable of grappling with any of the above

Genocide

This movie is an absolute mess. It is beautifully shot, and a competent shock-horror film when it feels like it, but that accounts for a fraction of its runtime, and basically none of the dialog.

It also fails at building tension for scenes like these, because it undercuts Alfred Hitchcock's principle of cinematic tension:

youtube

[Video description: An excerpt from a lecture by Alfred Hitchcock:

"Four people are sitting around a table, talking about baseball, whatever you like. Five minutes of it, very dull. Suddenly, a bomb goes off. Blows the people to smithereens. What do the audience have? Ten seconds of shock. Now take the same scene, and tell the audience there's a bomb under that table, and will go off in five minutes. Well the whole emotion of the audience is totally different, because you've given them that information. That in five minutes time, that bomb will go off. Now the conversation about baseball becomes very vital. Because they're saying to you, "Don't be ridiculous, stop talking about baseball, there's a bomb under the table!" You've got the audience working. Now the only difference is--and I've been guilty of, in the picture Sabotage, of making this error, but I've never made it since--The bomb must never go off. Because if you do, you've worked that audience into a state, and then they'll get angry because you haven't provided them with any relief. That's almost a must. So a foot touches the bomb, somebody looks down, says "My god, there's a bomb." Out of the window, then it goes off, just in time."

]

Prometheus tells you, over and over again, that the characters are in danger. Why are they in danger? Because they deliberately put themselves there. It's like they're a bunch of ordinance disposal experts sitting around Hitchcock's table, one of them nudges the bomb with their foot, and they look down and say "Huh! That's neat. Hey, take a poke at this, guys!"

The last bit of Hitchcock's principle is moot in this type of horror film, because there are only some characters that are positioned as being worthy of real worry on the part of the audience, which Prometheus also undermines--but not entirely. We still have a ways to go before they take his advice on that, though.

Next time:

Many posts ago, I responded to Holloway’s behavior with an invocation of Clue:

The tables shall soon turn!

⛬

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

Citations for alt-text rambles

https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/thats-a-penis

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tooms

https://www.buzzfeed.com/adambvary/something-terrible-has-happened-here-the-crazy-story-of-how

#Prometheus 2012 #Prometheus (2012)#did you know this critter is officially called the hammerpede #despite “pede” meaning “legs”#none of the official names for the critters in this movie make sense #yet another thing to drive me to madness

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spacexseven · 2 years

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nice glad to see drunk yans was a hit. yeah i agree that dazai would be 1000% HUMILIATED that he just entirely blew his cover with you but on the bright side thats something he can jot down in his Evidence That Darling Secretly Has A Crush On Me list. its in the same notebook where he scribbles “mr. osamu darlingslastname” with hearts around it and ingredients for love spells he looked up online. he’ll find one that works eventually mark his words. i think for ADA dazai he’d just pretend he doesnt remember to avoid having to have the “im obsessed with you” conversation but rest assured. he is also writing about it in his insane little diary.

ANYWAY sleepy!drunk ranpo as promised. it’s rare for ranpo to actually get inebriated, despite his gluttony. dulls his detective mind. but it’s alright to let loose on occasion, especially when that occasion gives him and excuse to spend some more time with darling! his flirtation strat is just to put himself in darlings line of sight as much as he can. once he gets drunk he’s pretty much just Gone. you’re honestly amazed someone as talkative as ranpo could ever be this. quiet and subdued. just blearily blinking his eyes and slurring out little whines about how its too loud in here. catch is: he doesnt wanna sleep just any old place, he wants to sleep on YOU. he’ll perch his head on your shoulder and doze off, lay down on your lap, grab your hand and put it in his hair, try to drag you over to the couch and get you to take a nap with him, etc. refuses to go to bed unless you agree to go with him. oh, and theres no waiting until he passes out and quietly slipping away. if you move away from him he’s waking up instantly and following after you, sleepily asking “where are we going” like he was invited or something. ur probably still on cuddle buddy duty when he wakes up hungover too.

clingy!drunk akutagawa. this one also cannot hold his liquor for the life of him so he’ll start to tilt into Weird after like. 2 drinks if that. typically, akutagawa is pretty avoidant with you. you’re not good for him. he cant focus on the task at hand if he’s close enough to smell you or feel the warmth that radiates off your skin or even hear the lilt of your voice, so he tries to cut down direct contact as much as he can. (stalking is fine tho he can do THAT all day long) if someone actually manages to get him drunk, however, as soon as he sees you he’s gravitating towards you like a magnet. he doesn’t really say much. just attaches himself to you. sits so close his leg is practically on top of yours, gently grabs your sleeve when you walk somewhere so he doesnt lose track of you, stuff like that. he’s just your shadow for the night. might get a bit bolder as the night goes on and actually take a crack at talking to you, but nothing he says is gonna make much sense. WILL try to follow you home be aware him doing that. (also, quick aside…flirty!drunk akutagawa… akutagawa acting completely unlike himself, laughing and smiling and boldly touching you… leaning into whisper salacious things in your ear… pushing you down into the booth or up against the wall… much to think about.)

BONUS ROUND smiley!drunk fyodor. fyodor is even less likely to deign himself with the crude act of drink than the other two. doesnt like being out of his own head, and with all of his various ailments drinking in excess could prove problematic… but gogol dared him to so now he’s half kicked in the ass. normally, fyodor smiling at you is something very creepy that you have to be worried about, but now he almost looks kinda… sweet. just genuinely grinning and lightly giggling like hes having the time of his life just being near you. i mean, it’s definitely still kinda creepy but you know. less so than usual. he probably wouldnt talk much, just the occasional hi :) or something in russian you cant understand. he’d occupy himself mostly with grabbing your hand and toying idly with your fingers or running his fingers through your hair. just little touches. things he rarely affords himself sober. he’ll only stop smiling if you try to leave, pouting and grabbing your hand to try to keep you with him for longer. might try to go after you but he’s very wobbly so youll have to catch him, also contact that he enjoys. he actually wont be embarrassed by any of this he’ll just go that was fun :) the next morning.

- 🩹

ranpo sleep on me wink wink i cant write flirty akutagawa for the life of me but he lives in my mind <3 also please imagine this w manga fyodor!! he has a very pretty smile lol (if its ooc i do not care once in a while it's good to write him not as evil !!)

cw: yandere characters, obsession, intoxication, implied stalking

ranpo needs to be drunk to be all clingy, but drinking only makes him more shameless about it. he's decided to attach himself to you, literally sleeping on top of you, and so on. he's unnaturally quiet, though, and more...vulnerable? you're suddenly reminded of the fact that ranpo isn't an ability user; just a regular person with an unrelenting mind when you see him blinking slowly and drinking from his cup.

he's never had a reason to hide his infatuation with you, not caring about what anyone else, including you, had to say or feel about it, but now he looks a little shy, staring quietly at you and looking back at his drink the moment your eyes lock, looking a little flustered. it was almost like he was another person entirely.

however, after some time passes and he seems to have warmed up to your presence, he becomes more demanding. stumbles over to drag you towards the loveseat at the back of the room, quickly wrapping his arms around yours so you wouldn't move while he snoozed away. though he's asleep, his grip on you is almost painful and even the slightest nudge would make him tighten his hands. maybe he'll loosen up the more he slept...?

you've never seen akutagawa drink. you've always thought he would be quiet even if he was intoxicated but he seems to be acting...oddly. the previously stoic look melts into a devious expression on his face that reminds you of someone that you can't quite put your finger on, and a dangerous look in his eye, not unlike that of a predator on the hunt. he takes short breaks in between each sip but doesn't seem to be bothered by the alcohol, still silently studying the room and inspecting every individual until—

—he sees you.

his eyes widen a fraction before he catches himself, straightens up, and walks towards you with a confidence that you hadn't expected. he sits next to you and continues sipping from his cup, lmost as though you didn't exist. you get up to leave but his voice startles you.

"where are you going?"

akutagawa had a low, melodious tone when he spoke, something you had never noticed before since he rarely talked to you. you were strangely flustered by the sudden attention on you...you didn't even know that he knew who you were.

"home...it's getting quite late."

he nods, "i'll walk you back."

it was not an offer or a question—this was an implicit order. silently you wonder if he was sober enough too walk around and make his way back later. still, you didn't want to annoy akutagawa, more so when he was drunk and unpredictable. surprisingly, he doesn't seem to stumble around his way or need you to guide the way, seemingly knowing exactly where to go and which floor your apartment was.

would it be rude to not invite him in? he waits outside as you open the door and shuffle in, but before you can ask him to come in, he goes in for a hug. you're frozen still as he sighs in your warmth, then lets go almost as quickly as he latched on, as though he never did anything in the first place. as you watch him walk down the hallway, you wonder just what else he's been hiding.

fyodor is...not really much of a drinker, from your own observations. still, he's not exactly opposed to a few drinks every once in a while, and today, since the sky casino was throwing a party, you supposed he couldn't skip the occassion. he's always had this alluring yet uneasy presence, like something about that sweet smile and the amused glint in his eyes just felt off, but drunk fyodor is...almost irresistable.

you know what he can do and you've witnessed how dangerous he is, but somehow he looks far too approachable now. a soft little smile, nothing like the ones he uses to disarm and charm people, humming under his breath—it was impossible to look away from him.

as nikolai leaves his side, fyodor's eyes scan the room lazily, before they find you. his smile grows a little, and he raises one hand up. a silent request. before you can even think about it, you find yourself making your way over to him, unsure if the slight buzz in your system was from the alcohol or the sensation of him asking for you.

he gestures over to the now empty chair beside him, watching you closely with a sleepy smile.

"enjoying the party?" you nod eagerly, watching as he chuckles and reaches out for your hand, twisting the rings around your fingers. he inspects each one, still humming, before bringing your hand to his lips and placing a kiss on it. you were not expecting any of the affectionate gestures, but you would be lying if you said it didn't feel nice, someone aa attractive and as important as fyodor having only eyes for you.

"you look very nice," he says, eyes inspecting every inch of you in a manner thar should have been alarming but in that moment, it was just nice to be complimented.

you sit like that with him for a while more, him mumbling things in russian under his breath every so often, squeezing your palm and stopping to compliment you ever so often. once, he reached up to touch your hair, apologizing right after for messing up your hairstyle. like that mattered when you were on cloud nine.

an acquaintance of yours calls you over, but fyodor's grip tightens around you, and he frowns for the first time that evening. he croons at you, letting a pet name slip that has you absolutely endeared, asking very softly for you to stay a little longer. he whispers that he likes your presence. the other person is hence ignored.

he asks, again, if you could help him up to nikolai, and his voice, while you know it's not meant to be that way, sounds almost seductive. you have to shake off your thoughts before helping him wobble over to the clown, who was happily entertaining some guests. fyodor smiles at you one laat time that night.

the next day, while you're sure he would not remember the night before, he pauses his steps when he sees you in the hallway, inspects you with those devouring eyes, and smiles, telling you to have a good day.

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sparklyslug · 6 months

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THE MONSTER-HUNTING SHOP AROUND THE CORNER: FIC PLAYLIST

(Listen on Spotify)

@steddiebang fic by @sparklyslug With illustrations by @ahhrenata & @boiiko

Posting starts December 29!

Music for 1998, Chicago in the fall, something special waiting for you in your inbox, unexpected reappearances, untraceable IP addresses, a mystery man who knows your heart even if he doesn’t know your name, and knifing up an extra-dimensional monster or two.

SOMEWHAT THEMATICALLY-RELATED EXCERPT BELOW!

Steve is alphabetizing the discount records pile. It’s Thursday, and Steve is alphabetizing the discount records pile, and Lilith has her Angry Piano Lady record of the day at a suitably loud wail. Steve would never say this to her, because any such confession would have her reeling back and clutching her four (or five, depending on the day) rosaries to her chest in horror, but: he fucking loves her Angry Piano Lady days.

Somedays, especially on grimly gloomy Thursdays, especially when he’s alphabetizing the discount records, especially when Dustin has been weird and squirrely– somedays Steve suspects he is, at heart, an Angry Piano Lady.

“Permission to come aboard?” a now familiar-for-all-its-strangeness voice comes from behind him. He turns to see Eddie, leaning against the banister of the four-step stairs that connect the secondhand section to the new music section. Lilith is leaning out over the counter, almost fully horizontal in her attempts to get a look at Eddie. Which is more interest than he thought her shriveled and cynical teenaged heart could manage in anything, but–it was a long time ago, sure, but he remembers the effect Eddie Munson could have on a shriveled, cynical teen heart.

He wonders for a second if the effect would be lessened if she could see Eddie as he was then. Not so suave and in his all-black business ghoul getup, dark curls carefully maintained and pushed back off his forehead. The gleam of sunglasses tucked into his collar, dragging the fabric of his black t-shirt down, exposing collarbone and what might be a tendril of tattoo ink.

Steve personally finds this glossy, reserved, polished version of the kid he used to know a hell of a fucking turnoff, but. Maybe it works for angry record store goth chicks. He wouldn’t know.

“Granted,” Steve says finally.

“Oh,” Eddie grins, faking a little shudder at Steve’s tone. “Maybe I won’t. Might be a little too chilly for me up there.”

“Don’t come up, then,” Steve turns back to his records.

He hears the squeak of the top step, and Eddie’s voice comes a little closer.

“Come on, Steve,” Eddie says plaintively. “Play ball. At least a little.”

More sincere, though who can trust that. He had sounded sincere in that creepy theater closet too.

“Ball, huh?” Steve addresses the Ds, runs his finger over the top of a Sunshine Superman, where it’s been torn a little. He loves shit like that. Devalues the record, sure, but he likes to think it’s because someone was once too excited to get the album out of its sleeve and into their ears to bother being careful about it. Loved it too much, and wasn't afraid of that love leaving a mark. “So we’re playing a game?”

There’s a pause. “Uh. We could be,” Eddie says slowly, and Steve can feel his ears going a little pink before he’s even consciously processed Eddie’s actual words, reacting purely to that shift in his tone. The way, when Eddie speaks again, it sounds like he’s even closer, close enough for Steve to imagine he can feel the warmth of him at his back. “What’s my prize?”

#steddie bang #my fic #stranger things fic #steddie fic #steddiebang23 #sparkly originals #stranger things fanmix #steddie as she goes boys

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sednas · 2 years

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hello, i just wanted to say that i enjoyed reading your headcanons for tokrev sm!

not sure if you're accepting requests atm but i wanted to request a headcanon of tr boys reacting to reader suddenly grabbing them to be their fake bf? (if ur not accepting reqs, it's fine 🤍)

𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃!

I'm glad you appreciate my tokyo revengers headcanons! <3

I made a few different scenarios for different situations and the boys just get bolder in each one of them

tw: suggestive theme at hanma's part

there's this creepy guy, who keeps staring at you across the room where everyone is having fun partying, he's clearly making you uncomfortable and you're starting to get tired of it. you choose to get closer to the boy you trust the most and on whom you may have the tiniest crush in this room, grabbing his arm you whisper those few words in his ear: "can you pretend to be my boyfriend please"

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍

he archs an eyebrow but doesn't say anything when he notices your body language, he can tell you're uncomfortable

he opens one of his arm and nods his head in your direction, closing it around your shoulders once you're close enough

"are you alright? what's happening?" he quietly asks just up to your ear

you glance at the creepy guy but he's nowhere to be seen, he probably got scared seeing your intimidating 185cm's fake boyfriend

"there was a scary guy but he's gone now, thank you..." you said, reluctantly getting away from his warm body

but you felt his strong arm circling around your waist, bringing you back against him

you flushed under him, looking away from the interrogative looks of the people surrounding you

"we can stay like this a little longer, he might come back and I don't want you to get uncomfortable again."

needless to say you spent the rest of the night under his warm gaze and his strong arms

𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐘𝐀

"I was hoping you'd come to me, this guy over there is pretty weird." he immediately said, getting in front of you in order to hide you

being his usual self, he kept an eye on that guy since the beginning of the night, frequently checking on you to see if you were still alright

he hands you a drink while smiling at you, trying to make you feel comfortable again

"here baby, hydrate yourself a bit."

you looked up at him with surprise, and he only smiled softly

the pet name slipped out of his lips like honey, it just came out so easily, leaving you speechless

while you're standing there, astonished by what just happened, mitsuya gets closer to your ear, until you can almost feel the plump of his lips against your skin

"you stay here okay? I'll make sure that guy doesn't bother you again."

he lets his arm linger on your own before disappearing into the crowd

he comes back a few minutes later, his peaceful smile still on his lips

"I think I made myself clear, you should enjoy the party now baby."

he kept calling you baby during the rest of the night, and the days after, looks like he was waiting for an excuse to call you like that all the time.

you got invited to a fancy dinner by old friends, the thing is, they're all bringing their partner while you're single, instead of declining the invitation like you usually do, you decide to ask your closest friend to pretend to be your boyfriend. and yes you might have purposefully ask him because you want to be more than just friends.

𝐁𝐀𝐉𝐈

he would take your request as a job

brushing and tying his hair into a ponytail, showing up at your place earlier to accompany you to the restaurant, all dressed up

he hands you his arm for you to hold while he opens the restaurant's door for you and offers you a seat once you join your table

you're surprised, baji is usually his habitual turbulent and loud self, and you love him knowing really well that he's not the most delicate person on the planet

but tonight he's different, he's acting like a real charming prince

"so, how did you two meet?"

baji and you shared a glance, but before you can talk baji answers in a confident tone

you're speechless hearing him describe how you two met, adding some details to the story that he never said to you before

like saying that the first thing he noticed about you was your pretty eyes, he talks about the cute habit you have to bite your lip when something is on your mind, how he can read you like an open book and how much he's glad to have you in his life

by the end of his speech you're so flustered that you can barely look at him in the eyes

during the rest of the evening he keeps sending smiles to you, sometimes brushing your hand with his fingers while asking if you're okay

by the end of the night he walks you home and pats your head, saying that he had fun

you eventually find the guts to ask him if he meant everything he said about you tonight

"of course I meant everything I said tonight dummy, from the you're beautiful in that outfit to the I fell in love with the sound of your voice." he answers while smiling, showing his pointed teeth.

oh no! your ex is coming this way! quick, grab your crush's arm and ask him to act like he was your boyfriend! (I'm so sorry for those of you who are exless like me, let's make our imagination work for this one ;-;)

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀

okay I'm sorry but, why you would ask him such a thing 💀

this man is a menace, you know exactly what you're doing by asking him that

you barely finished your sentence that his hands are already on your waist, a wide grin spreading on his face

he immediately noticed the person you wanted to avoid and stare at them right in the eye before gazing back at you

his eyes are playful, and his grin is malicious, does he even know what boyfriend means?

"want to put on a show my love?"

the pet name makes you slightly twitch while you hesitantly nod your head, already knowing what's going to happen deep down in your mind

hanma glances at your ex one last time, making sure they're looking, before taking your chin in his hand to kiss you

the kiss is obscene, vulgar, people around look away with embarrassed face, seeing hanma's tongue sloppily swirling around your own tongue, making you quietly moan

by the end of the kiss your ex is nowhere to be seen, and when hanma pulls away a stream of saliva still connects your lips

your eyes go wide, realizing what you just did in front of everyone

"what? you asked me to act like I was your boyfriend, and if I was your boyfriend this is exactly what I would do."

since that day hanma gives you french kisses whenever he wants, so I guess that makes him your boyfriend now...?

will do a part two!!

a lovely reminder that reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ♡

tr masterlist

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undertheopensky · 5 months

Text

We Are But Children 3

Whumptober Day 21: Restraints

Characters: Time, Legend, lil bit of Hyrule and Warriors

Trigger warnings: Violence to a child, mild body horror, minor character death, don’t worry it’s no one you care about, I was going to say it’s not graphic but SOMEONE had other ideas

Read on Ao3!

Late to the party? Read Part 1 and Part 2!

-----

Blinking, the newly-babyfied Time glances around. “Well this is inconvenient.”

Everyone’s tense, almost too afraid to breathe. Four had panicked and cried; Legend had panicked and grabbed a weapon. No one wants to know what Time will do - or accidentally scare him into doing it.

It’s Wars who approaches him. Calm, and smiling, and visibly praying he’ll be recognised. “Hey, bud. Nothing fazes you, huh?”

“Why would it? I’m used to portals and weird wizzrobes at this point.” Baby!Time squints at his own hands. “I admit it’s been a while, though.”

“Okay,” says Warriors. “What’s the last thing you remember, Mask?”

Baby-fine hairs glimmer in the firelight as the child raises one eyebrow. “Been a long time since you’ve called me that, Wars.”

Warriors’ face screws up, losing the steady gentleness that was making Legend’s hair stand on end. “What?”

“I’m fine, Wars, I didn’t lose anything. Weird wizzrobe, not the first time, I’m going to be very short for the next three days.” Adult!Time’s amusement at their bafflement looks creepy as fuck on Baby!Time’s face.

“Wait,” Legend demands, “why the hell does he get to retain his memories while I spent three days embarrassing myself?”

“I am the Hero of Time, you know,” says Baby!Time, with unbearable smugness for such a tiny child.

Legend makes an outraged noise. “Excuse you, I have definitely fucked around enough with the Harp of Ages to –”

Exactly what he was going to say is drowned out by Warriors squawking “LANGUAGE!” and clapping his hands over Baby!Time’s ears.

“He is thirty –”

“Ah-t-t-t! I don’t care! He is like seven and you will watch your language!”

Legend fumes silently but has to drop the argument.

Baby!Time wrestles Warriors’ hands away from his head. “I dunno why you bother, I already learned all the good curses from the soldiers.”

“I’m trying not to make that problem any worse, thank you.” Still, Warriors lets him go. “Now - you sure you’re okay? You’re not sore, or dizzy? You still remember everyone?”

“It’s strange.” Time spreads his arms like a bird. “I still have all my adult memories, and sensations, but they’re less… relevant, somehow. Not as close to the surface.” He takes a few steps, without so much as a wobble. “I don’t feel off balance, or anything.”

“That’s interesting, actually,” says Hyrule, wide-eyed. “When people go through growth spurts they’re often really clumsy until they get used to their new height or reach – I would have thought it would happen in reverse, too.”

Baby!Time nods thoughtfully. “It’s not, though. Maybe all the adult stuff is being held down by the magic too?”

“You’re taking this pretty well,” Sky observes.

Baby!Time shrugs. “I did say I’m used to it.”

“I’m not,” says Warriors. He keeps rubbing at his eyes like they’re bothering him. “My brain is not coping with Baby!Time.”

“You could just go back to calling me Mask.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I mean, if it makes you feel better,” Baby!Time says. “A nickname’s a nickname. You all call me ‘old man’ half the time, anyway.”

“Ohhhh, that’s so weird,” Twilight mutters, looking vaguely horrified.

Legend snorts. “All in favour of calling him ‘Mask’ for the next three days?”

“Aye,” comes the chorus.

“Well if that’s settled, can we maybe make a plan on what to do next?” asks Wild. “Because I definitely saw some of the moblins making a run for it while we were distracted with the wizzrobe.”

“Can’t leave those running around,” Wars agrees with a sigh. “Twi, see if you can fetch Wolfie, we’ll need him for tracking - wait, fuck. Mask. Twilight can you introduce Mask to Wolfie while you’re at it? I know he’s great but he’s a wild animal and I do not want any mistakes.”

“Sure thing,” says Twilight, with an impressive lack of inflection. “C’mon, kiddo.”

Baby!Time - Mask - shrugs, and runs after him.

They don’t catch up with the monsters that day, despite Wolfie’s best efforts, and make camp deep in the woods when they lose the light. Wolfie could have kept leading them - he’s not following visible sign, after all - but no one wants to wander blindly into an ambush.

In the morning, Legend rouses to the not-unfamiliar dulcet tones of Warriors cursing. “Why are you allowed to swear and I’m not?” he says.

Warriors makes a strangled noise of surprise. Legend grins, still without opening his eyes. “Because until three seconds ago I thought I was the only one awake!” he hisses. “Goddess above, Ledge!”

“Not my fault you have shitty situational awareness,” says Legend, and sits up. “What’re you swearing at?”

Warriors gestures angrily with the flopping leather in his hand. “My boots don’t fit!”

“They can’t possibly have shrunk overnight, and I doubt your feet have swelled that much, they’re not your head.” Still, Legend leans over to take a look. They… definitely look too small. And too short, actually. Wars has fully fitted calf-length boots with buckles for plates to be strapped on; these would barely cover his ankles even if they were the right size. What the hell?

While they puzzle over this the rest of the camp has started to wake up. Twilight - always up with the sun - is gently shaking Wild, while the champion mumbles a constant litany of ‘five more minutes’. Sky is yawning and stretching. Hyrule, last on watch, is packing away all his gear and making sure Sky doesn’t fall asleep again.

“What are you guys doing?”

They both look up. Wind’s standing over them, trying to look stern and managing something closer to ‘delightedly baffled’. “Where’d you get those shoes, Wars? Why? They’re never gonna fit you! Do you have a kid we don’t know about?”

“What?! No!” Warriors makes a garbled noise, caught between embarrassment and indignance. “Why would you even -? No, they’re not mine! I don’t even know where they came from!”

Wind huffs. “Then whose are they?”

“I suspect they’re mine,” says Four, stumping over in boots that are clearly about six sizes too large.

“How the fuck did that happen?” says Wars. They’d been sleeping on opposite sides of camp, for Nayru’s sake. There’s no way their boots could have gotten mixed up in the dark.

“I don’t know and I don’t care, just gimme my shoes.” Four kicks off Wars’s boots and grabs his own, sitting down to put them on properly and adding, “You better not have split any of the stitching with your massive clodhoppers.”

“I stopped trying when I couldn’t even get my toes in!”

The bickering would probably have gone on a lot longer if Hyrule hadn’t started making anxious noises about getting a move on. It’s not safe to stay in one place for too long in this area, he tells them. And he is the expert, so they get a move on. Wild hands out rice balls. It’s not the first time they’ve had breakfast on the go.

It sends a bit of a jolt down Legend’s spine, every time he glances up the line of heroes and doesn’t see Time’s broad frame near the front. It’s disconcerting.

Mask doesn’t have the same movement patterns, either. Besides the obvious, not being Time, he also doesn’t lead the pack. He follows at Warriors’ heels, or sticks close behind Twilight, or walks so near to Hyrule it’s a miracle he doesn’t get stepped on.

Then Sky turns around to ask Wind a question, spots Mask, and nearly trips over himself with a shriek.

The whole party stumbles to a halt.

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew I was there!” Mask says, while Sky frantically tries to apologise for almost stepping on him. “I’ll be more careful, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, it keeps happening.

Legend wonders about that. Mask had said his adult memories were less relevant, somehow. Does he feel more vulnerable, as a child? Like he needs to be closer to the adults to be safe?

Whatever the case, it’s fucking annoying. Four startles badly whenever Mask’s shadow falls on him – towered over by even the literal child. Warriors jumps about a foot in the air when the wind briefly tangles his scarf around Mask and he feels it tug. Wind offers to give him a piggyback ride, since that’s clearly what he wants if he’s standing so close, which lasts a hilarious but short five minutes before Wind admits defeat. Mask is small, but there’s a lot of muscle under his tunic.

Finally, after Wild does an awkward somersault to keep from landing on the boy, Twilight comes up and plops him on Epona instead. Mask seems happy enough with this arrangement. Legend just breathes a sigh of relief that he doesn’t have to worry about the kid stepping on his shoes anymore.

They make good enough time that by evening, they don’t need Wolfie dropping in and out to keep them on the right track; the trail left by the fleeing monsters is enough for any Hylian eye to follow. At this point, though, they’re even more suspicious of an ambush.

“Everyone okay with stopping for the night?” Warriors calls, as the sky fades to duller shades of orange.

“I’m hardly going to complain,” Sky says, slumping almost on the spot. He’s nearly grey under the flush of exertion. Their pace has been a little much for him, though he hasn’t said a word of complaint. Legend marks that, and hopes they catch up tomorrow.

Wind also collapses more or less where he stands, and starts pulling his boots off. “I hate walking,” he complains, not for the first time. Unlike Sky, he will gleefully inform the world at large of every small discomfort. “Give me a boat any day. Ugh! I have blisters!”

“Were you wearing socks?”

“No! They’re itchy!”

“For the love of Nayru, sailor…”

While Wars patches him up and scolds him over foot care, the rest of them set up camp. “No fire tonight,” Wild tells them, “smoke’s too much of a risk.”

Legend makes a face - cold dinner tonight - but no one argues. It’s at least not cold cold out here. Their bedrolls will be warm enough without the need for a fire to keep from freezing to death.

As Twilight hauls his bedroll down from Epona, he staggers a bit under its weight. And it’s bulky, for sure, but not heavy, not to someone who slings goats around for a living. He must be tired from running back and forth all day long. Legend keeps an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t collapse or something, but Twilight’s just frowning as he lays out the thick padding, struggling with it more than usual. Then, he flips open the top layer.

His bedroll is full of rocks.

Twilight stares. So does everyone else. “What the hell?”

It’s not easy to read Adult!Time - he nearly always looks placidly amused.

Mask’s poker face isn’t nearly as good. Despite having all Time’s control and experience, the softness of his face gives him away. His eyes crinkle at the corners and his lips go tight trying not to smile.

Twilight spots it immediately. His eyes narrow. As he turns to flee, Mask starts laughing, which both gives him away and makes escaping impossible. Twilight catches him with ease.

“You little gremlin!” Twilight shouts over Mask’s laughter. He shakes him, gently, where he’s dangling him upside down by his ankles.

Mask seems unconcerned by this. He’s still laughing, gleeful and unrepentant in the face of Twilight’s brotherly wrath. “Your face! That was the best, I’m so glad I didn’t do it to Wars he’s so boring about people messing with his bed -”

“What gets me to sleep faster, freaking out about it or fixing the problem?” says Warriors, without looking up.

“See?” Mask complains, giggling as Twilight shakes him again.

“You little gremlin,” Twilight repeats. “I can’t believe you. Come on, then, you’re helping me get all the rocks out.” He flips Mask the right way up and scrubs a rough but friendly hand through his hair.

“‘Kay,” says Mask cheerfully.

It’s not a difficult task - all they really need to do is upend the bedroll and shake it out. Mask hadn’t used any stones smaller than a thumbnail so there was no worry about things getting caught in the corners, and they were all too smooth to damage the fabric. The bedroll is clean and ready to go in less than five minutes. Twilight sighs in relief. “Alright, menace, I’ll let you off the hook - but don’t do it again, y’hear?”

Mask blows a raspberry at him. “It’s no fun doing the same thing twice!”

Then he runs off, jumping on an unsuspecting Wind with a war cry.

Ignoring the wrestling match that breaks out, Twilight asks, “Was he always such a hellion?”

“I think he was actually worse,” says Wars.

-----

This time Legend comes to with a massive fucking headache. Also, the floor is moving, which he does not appreciate at all. It’s making his stomach feel so much worse. He groans in protest, and hears an answering groan from nearby. Fuck, that means he needs to wake up more and be functional.

What had happened? The expected ambush hadn’t been challenging. The moblins were black-blooded, yes, and smart enough to set up shop in the least defensible spot in the region so the Chain had no cover when they attacked, and wound up split off into smaller groups. But between his ice rod and Hyrule’s Thunder spell they’d cleared out the moblins, and the out-of-time lizalfos that showed up to investigate, and he, Hyrule, and Mask had been headed for the last place they’d seen the others when -

Nothing.

So something probably happened in that nothing.

Goddess, his head hurts.

Thinking about it isn’t getting him anywhere, so Legend braces himself to crack open his eyes.

Fortunately, it’s dark, so his head doesn’t do more than thump briefly about the new stimulus before settling down to sulk. Hyrule is the first thing his eyes catch on.

Even in the dark it looks bad. He’s an awkward tangle of limbs in unconsciousness, blood all through his hair and tunic torn over an untreated wound, stirring vaguely when Legend calls his name. Through the gloom, Legend can tell his eyes aren’t quite in focus. Damn. “C’mon, Rulie,” he coaxes, “talk to me.”

Hyrule groans again. “M’head…”

Yeah, that’s fair. Legend looks again at the blood, reminds himself that Hyrule’s at least mostly conscious, and tries to shake off the nausea. Though maybe that’s from the rocking floor. Hopefully Mask at least had gotten away -

“What hit me?” Mask grumbles from behind him, and there goes that hope.

“Fuck this shit,” Legend says, or slurs, rather, and fuck, Rulie’s not the only one with a concussion. No wonder his head is killing him. He tries to roll over - and realises his hands are trapped behind his back, hard-cold-biting-edges pinning his wrists together. His blood goes to ice.

The darkness – the moving floor – the restraints –

It all adds up to captured.

Hyrule’s in the middle of the same realisation – foggy eyes going wide with panic. He thrashes, fighting whatever has his arms pinned, booted feet thumping against the wooden wall.

It’s instinct to lunge forward. Legend discovers too late that his manacles are actually hooked to something, brought up short by the yank in his shoulders. He curses instead, and tries to calm him with words alone. “Easy, easy Rulie, it’ll be okay, we’ll get out of this -”

Hyrule kicks the wall again.

“Please Rulie you’ll hurt yourself -”

The floor jolts to a stop.

Hyrule gasps. Legend’s stomach lurches – partly from the rolling motion ceasing, partly from anxiety at whatever was about to happen. The manacles dig in painfully as he leans back on his arms to roll into a sit. (And ignores the way his vision goes white, then black, then slow, spotty grey, as the pain crests and fades back.)

Footsteps, muffled; crunching on gravel, coming around to the door of the carriage. There’s a long moment of rattling metal. Keys in a lock. Then the door swings wide.

Legend doesn’t let the blinding, nauseating light stop him from barking, “What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?”

Shackled to a wall, concussed and listing, he doesn’t make for a very threatening picture. He only gets laughter in response.

“Whad’you even want with us?” he demands, all too aware of the two behind him. Just as trapped, just as helpless. He’s the oldest, here, the veteran hero; it’s up to him to find a way out.

The bandit grins at him, silhouetted in the doorway.

“Knew we’d get a good haul outta you, didn’t we? At first we was just gonna take your magic stuff. One good quality fire rod can go for thousands to the right buyer. Then we saw ya throwin’ lightnin’ around, an’ realised - just how much more would we get, for real live magical creatures? Ones pretendin’ t’be Hylian, walkin’ among civilised folks? We ain’t dealt in live cargo in a while, but we still got the stuff for it.”

Legend’s only half-listening. As he adjusts to the glare outside he’s scanning and assessing, and does not like what he sees.

A least eight people visible, all in the same sort of hard wearing, mismatched clothing. More surrounding the cart; he can hear muttering and laughter from out of view. Everyone’s hard-eyed and alert, and everyone’s armed. Not with the usual rusty shit bandits tend to scrounge up, either. There’s quality steel on some of those backs. Not good.

“You should let Mask go, then,” Legend argues. “He’s just a kid - he’s got no talent for magic.”

The bandit snorts. “Anyone who can keep up with things like you two’ll be worth somethin’. And those marks? If ‘e ain’t fae-touched, then I’m a chuchu.

“We’ve got a long ways to go yet, so just sit back an’ enjoy the ride. An’ quit kickin’ the walls – ain’t no one out here to hear you, an’ I don’t want you damagin’ the merchandise.”

With one last black grin, the door to the carriage slams closed.

“Well that sounds like bullshit.” Mask sits up, and Legend sees that he’d been bound in rope rather than iron. He hopes, vaguely, that that means these fuckers don’t usually capture children-sized people, and so had to improvise. Whatever the case, it meant a flexible, squirmy child was able to wriggle free, before the carriage even lurches back into motion. “Obviously we’re not gonna stick around here, so what’s the plan?”

“I want my shit back,” says Legend, doing his best not to slur the words. “An’ I’d rather not go through the black market for it.”

“We probably shouldn’t leave these guys to steal things and sell people, either.” Mask makes a face. “No offence, though, you two look like shit. You’re in no condition for a fight.”

Legend growls, but can’t really argue. His headache has not been improved by the rising stress of the situation. If he tried to stand up right now, he’d probably fall, and maybe pass out into the bargain. Hyrule has blood running down his face from the blow that knocked him out, and Legend suspects his successor feels even worse than he does right now. The kid’s barely even following the conversation. “So, what? Think you can jump out of here and find the others in time? Don’t even know where we are.”

“Nah, I’ve got a better idea.” Mask frowns, then, chewing his lip in a way that Warriors would definitely have scolded him for, before saying, “Don’t freak out, okay? Wars always does, but it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“That is the most concerning thing you could possibly have said,” says Legend, but no one can reach to stop him as he shoves a hand down his own tunic to reveal –

A carved wooden mask.

That’s hardly surprising - Adult!Time has quite the collection, after all. Though why Baby!Time had opted to stash one in his tunic is anyone’s guess. It’s also not one Legend’s seen before. Shaggy white hair, the angles of a Hylian face marked with bright colour, and dark voids where the eyes should be.

A chill runs over him. “Mask - what is that thing?”

Mask hesitates. “Don’t freak out,” he repeats, lifting the wood to his face.

“Mask stop!”

Too late. Mask curls in on himself and keens, high and strangled. There’s a crunching sound like bones underfoot, the squelch of raw meat tearing.

Legend’s shouting. Hyrule’s struggling against the shackles to come and help. But they can’t reach him. Mask is alone, as the sickening noises stop, and his stifled cries go quiet.

“Mask?” Legend calls, suddenly and terribly afraid. “Time?”

Slowly, he turns, and Legend tries not to be visibly alarmed. He’s – too tall to be Mask, and too short to be Adult!Time; he looks Legend’s age, despite the shock white hair. But it’s not that, or the hair, or even the newly-mirrored markings on his face that make his stomach turn. It’s the eyes – pure white, and strangely reflective, like polished porcelain.

They’re empty.

The – being – Legend’s not confident calling them ‘Time’ anymore – glances around the carriage as if taking it in. Their head tilts. Considering. Then, they put one hand over their shoulder to grasp at the air like they’re grasping for a sword. And suddenly there is a sword, nearly as long as he is tall, with two blades intertwined in a strange spiral pattern.

Legend breaks out in a cold sweat.

Fortunately, the being’s not even looking at him. All the intensity of their focus is on the door, contemplating it like a complex dungeon puzzle. Legend’s almost too afraid to breathe, lest it draw the looming mountain of their attention.

Their other hand goes up to the hilt, and they draw.

Legend can’t help it - he scrabbles back, feet slipping on the cool wood. The being doesn’t so much as glance his way. They lift the blade, studying its smooth curves, with no sign of the effort it should take to lift its bulk, and their head tilts again.

Then the sword flashes, and wood explodes outward.

Bandits scream in surprise. Legend can’t see; between the blinding light and the splintered remains of the door his view’s restricted to a sliver, but the being is no longer in the carriage with them and there’s all the sounds of a fight outside. He curses and struggles with his manacles again. Legend hates feeling useless, but here and now, all he can do is listen to the screech of metal on metal, the shouts and curses of the gang, and strange, wet-sounding thumps as heavy things hit the ground and don’t get back up.

Something strikes the cart with enough force to set it rocking. It’s followed by the distinctive sound of a blade thrust into flesh, a boot sucking free of deep mud. Hyrule jolts at the noise, and squints across the wagon at Legend to check him for injury. Legend would laugh if he wasn’t wound so tight.

Eventually, things go quiet, except for the nervous stomping of the carthorse. Legend’s heart is thundering in his ears. He feels like he was the one fighting, the way his breath comes in short, trembling huffs. And with the shouting gone there’s no way to tell what’s happening -

There’s a noise of irritation. Then there’s a crunch, and what’s left of the door wrenches free, letting sunlight stream in unimpeded. Legend squints, but doesn’t turn away. (Hyrule does, burying his face in the floor. Kid must have one hell of a headache.)

The being with Time’s face appears. They are, not unexpectedly, doused in blood. More unexpectedly, the flat expression has relaxed into something not quite like a smile.

It is not reassuring.

The being hauls themselves up into the wagon. Hyrule grunts at the vibration of their boots hitting the floor - now that Legend’s looking, they’re wearing half armour, plates over the chest and legs and heavy armoured boots, completely unlike the child’s tunic Mask had changed into.

“Time?” he tests, deliberately rocking up onto his knees.

As planned, the being’s eyes shift from Hyrule to his movement. “I am not the Hero of Time.” Their head tilts, identical to the way they’d looked at the door, seconds before it turned to matchsticks. Somehow, though, Legend’s not afraid. The sense of constrained energy that had set his teeth on edge just… isn’t there, anymore. “You are bound. I will release you.”

Using the massive sword as a cutting tool seems like overkill, but it gets the job done. There’s a shriek and a crack, and some of the pressure on Legend’s hands releases. When he pulls them around, the band of metal holding the manacles together is cut through.

“If you’re not Time, or - Mask, then - where is he? He better be okay.” The last part comes out forlorn instead of aggressive, which pisses him off.

“The Hero of Time is asleep, young one,” the being tells him. Hyrule’s restraints get the same treatment, letting the dazed hero sit up properly without the chains caught up around their mooring pole. “He will not wake until my task is done.”

“And what is your task, exactly?” Legend moves to check on Hyrule - he’s been way too quiet, even after riding out a panic attack.

“To fight until the fighting is done. That is always my task: to fight the battles the Hero of Time cannot win.”

“Wait, so if he’s had you in reserve this whole time, why hasn’t he ever used you before now?”

The thing wearing Time’s face smiles, slow and cruel.

“He knows better than to call on me for such paltry matters. The cost would be far too high.”

Legend’s heart freezes. “Cost?”

“I am a god of war. And war always takes its price. Where it gets it is of no concern.”

“What kind of cost? If you’ve hurt him -”

“The Hero of Time has always been very aware of the price some things demand. For that reason alone, he would have been one of my favoured.” The being sighs, still smiling that terrifying smile. “But… my work is done, and the penance is paid. Farewell for now, heroes.” They lift one hand to their familiar-alien face.

The change back is quicker, somehow. A rush of air and magic power draining away, and suddenly it’s Mask’s hands holding the carved wooden face, smiling up at Legend. He looks tired, but not wrecked, as Legend had feared when he’d heard the enchantment boiling to life through his bones. “So, was he nice to you? He better have been. I yelled at him the last time he scared Wars.”

“I don’t think ‘nice’ is the right word to use,” says Legend, still a little stunned.

Mask groans. “Did he at least solve our bandit problem?” He hops back out of the wagon to check. Legend, after taking a moment to collect the still-unsteady Hyrule, follows.

Outside is sheer carnage. It’s less ‘bodies’ than ‘pieces’, and Legend has to look away and swallow hard. He’s not used to this kind of aftermath - doesn’t usually fight people, just manifestations of hatred that can’t hold corporeal form once killed.

There’s so much blood.

Mask ignores it with an ease that Legend’s going to find upsetting later. He leads them around to the front of the cart, where the carnage is less; the bandits had all rushed to the main source of the fight, not hung around waiting for it to come to them. The bay mare hooked up to the wagon snorts at them, eyes and nostrils wide.

“He left the horse alive,” Legend says blankly. He’d heard it, even after the sounds of battle faded, but somehow hadn’t quite conceptualised it.

“Well sure. It’s not her fault she was owned by assholes.” Mask steadies the mare with a few gentle words and a firm hand on the bridle. “Besides - she can carry us a lot further and a lot faster than we can go on foot. Now c’mon, help me search this thing for our bags, ‘cause if they dumped them somewhere it’s gonna make our lives so much harder.”

Legend does in fact find their packs, in a poorly-hidden compartment under the driver’s bench. Which is great, because now he doesn’t have to go hunting his gear down. It’s even better because there’s still half a red potion in here somewhere with Hyrule’s name on it.

Hyrule’s eyes clear as the potion does its work, though there’s still a visible knot above his ear. “Legend, what - you okay?”

“He’s fine, I’m fine, we’re all fine except the bad guys,” Mask interrupts. “More importantly: how are we gonna get back to the others?”

“I say we head back the way we came and make a decision when there’s a split in the road,” says Legend. He really just wants to be done with this day. Sleep sounds fantastic right now, so it’s a pity he’s got long hours piecing together the bandits’ route ahead of him. He hates backtracking. Backtracking on other people’s bullshit is even worse.

The horse doesn’t care about backtracking; the horse is all too eager to leave the blood-soaked stretch of road behind them, once they get her turned around. In hindsight, Legend’s really glad she didn’t take off when people started dying loudly and messily nearby. He wouldn’t have blamed her, but he also doesn’t fancy being chained up in the back of a runaway cart.

Miracle of miracles, they’ve been on the road less than half an hour when they start seeing flashes of colour through the trees. Hyrule squints. “Is that Four?”

“Aaand Wolfie,” says Mask with a sigh, as frantic barking becomes audible.

“Thank Nayru, Din and Farore,” says Four, flinging himself off Wolfie when the canine skids to a halt. “We were so worried, are you all alright, are those manacles - fuck, Ledge, you’re bleeding -”

“What, still?” says Legend blankly, touching fingers to scalp.

Wolfie glances up from where he’d been sniffing noses with the carthorse and gives a disapproving ‘boof’.

“Shut up, there was more important shit to deal with,” Legend tells him.

Four makes short work of the manacles - someday Legend’s going to ask just how he manages to keep a mini-forge on his person at all times - and he’s just pulling off the last one when the rest of the group comes jogging up.

“Goddesses, Mask, what happened?!” Wild exclaims. “You’ve got -” he gestures to his face - “all over!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot he does that when I’m little.” Mask runs an absent-minded finger over one blood-marked cheek. “The markings are protective. In places where they’re known, bad guys won’t risk touching me. Even Ghirahim thought twice, and he was a grade-A creeper. Sorry, Sky.”

“Why are you apologising, you’re right,” Sky protests. “Also what’s this about you dealing with Ghirahim, oh my god-”

Honestly, Legend hadn’t even noticed that when the being faded away to leave Mask in their place, the facial markings had stayed, instead of the half-version he was used to seeing on Time. He touches his head again with a frown.

“Legend needs a potion!” Hyrule calls.

“Hyrule needs another one!” Legend shoots back.

Warriors rolls his eyes and hands them both a bottle. “Things must have been pretty dire if he had to use the Fierce Deity, and to be honest you both look like hell.”

“Fuck you too,” Legend grumbles. In truth, the potion is working wonders on the stabbing pain behind his eyes. He hadn’t even realised how sore his neck and back were until it all starts to fade, leaving him wrung-out and tired. It’s almost worth the horrible bitter taste, not at all hidden by the wildberries Wild had tried adding.

While they were getting medic-ed the conversation had gone on without them, which means Legend is treated to the hilarious and context-free picture of ten-year-old Mask being toted around on Sky’s hip like a four-year-old. Mask is clearly resigned to this, if not exactly pleased.

He’s even less pleased when Warriors starts questioning him. “So what’s this I hear about letting Fierce Deity out to play without a minder?”

“Oh come on, he’s fine!”

Legend thinks back to waiting chained up in near-darkness, wet gurgles and the choked cries of the dying outside with no way to know if they would be next, and has to hold back a shudder.

-----

Inspired by this amazing piece of art!

#whumptober 2023 #linked universe #lu time #lu mask #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu warriors #just a bit #skies writes #as usual not supposed to get this long #i stg NO ONE wanted to shut up #this took FOREVER.#i am not entirely happy with this but i also very much am sick of looking at it #day 22 my beloved here we come!

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dyns33 · 11 months

Text

Flower arrangement

I was missing Murderdock again.

The arrangement was clear.

Well, they had never talked about it, there had been no contract, no rules, but it was quite easy to understand what was going on between Y/N and Murdock.

They had first met on campus, when they were both studying law, and then several times in court, facing each other in front of the judge.

Y/N didn't know Matthew Murdock well. Her colleague Marci had told her to beware of him. The DA Nelson was clearly afraid of his former roommate. The Kingpin was probably not just a simple client.

No doubt she should have been scared, but Y/N didn't care. As a lawyer, she had seen a lot. As a woman, she had seen a lot. Even though she was doing her best to keep her heart from turning to stone, a shell had formed around her and there wasn't much that scared her anymore.

So she was one of the few people who knew there was something weird, if not dangerous, about Murdock, and yet treated him perfectly normally.

In the corridors or in the street, they greeted each other politely. She went to him to talk about the business they had in common. After a long day of work, she asked him if he wanted a coffee to celebrate one of his many victories.

The first few times, he seemed surprised, as if suspicious, waiting to see what she was going to ask for in return for her kindness. Then when it seemed obvious that she had good intentions, he relaxed a bit. Not completely, it was obviously not possible for him, but a bit.

Then he really started to be sympathetic. Very kind. It was quite pleasant, Y/N had to admit that she was not against spending some time with a man as smart and attractive as him. But there was still something creepy in his smiles and his flirtations.

Maybe she wanted more, but she didn't mention it. It was stupid. It was enough.

Until as she was driving home after a long day, she quickly braked on a bend, with Matthew standing in the middle of the road as if he was waiting for her. Taking his time, he went to the passenger door, sat next to her without saying anything, and put on his seatbelt.

"... I'll drop you off at your office ?" she asked as if everything was normal and that a blind man hadn't just acted as if he knew perfectly well that she was going to pass in this street at this moment.

"No. We're going to your place."

"Oh. May I know why ?"

"I'll take you on your kitchen table, in your shower and in your bed."

"... No dinner first ?"

"No dating between us. You've wanted me for months, I find you quite interesting, and we both need it tonight."

"Oh. Okay." Y/N said, not knowing what else to say.

This was the start of the arrangement.

No dating, no kissing, no love. Just two lonely lawyers who sometimes needed someone to relax. Mostly physically. There were also times when Y/N talked about her problems, even though she felt stupid, because she was sure Matt didn't care.

Yet he stayed in bed, listening to her, giving her good advice and gently patting her on the back. It was probably the best thing he could do when it came to social relations.

For his part, Matthew spoke little of himself, even if once, after having drunk a little too much, he told her about his childhood, the Hand, his abilities, Spider woman. Everything. He even cried, before he realized what he was doing, groaned, and left, never talking about it ever again.

Y/N probably should have been scared at that time. For a long time actually. But no. She also never mentioned it again, and Murdock thanked her as he passed under her desk while they were alone in her office.

He was a very good lover. Well, they weren't together, there was no love, but he was a really good lover. Their arrangement was very good. Yes, very good. Until a little spider got involved.

"Mr. Nelson told me you and Murderdock are close."

"Hello Miss Spider woman. Instead of discussing my private life with the DA, you should consider getting a lawyer with all the charges against you."

"No thanks. You know Murderdock is dangerous, right ?"

Yes, she was fully aware of that. Out now.

"But you still love him ?"

Yes. No. It didn't matter.

"We're not together. Not like this."

"Oh." said the young girl, because it was clearly a young girl under this mask, way too young for this. "It's too bad. You don't seem so terrible, you could do better. Or do you already have better ? I know Murderdock is seeing at least three other women."

Y/N really didn't need this information. It was none of her business what Matt was doing in his free time, since they weren't together. And she was ot seeing anyone else by choice. With her job, she didn't have time, and it gave her all the satisfactions of a relationship, without the inconveniences.

Really, everything was going very well between them, since there was nothing between them, except their arrangement.

"Too bad." Spider Woman repeated again. "He seemed to like you, a bit, when I told him about it. I must have been wrong. You deserve better in any case ! A guy who gives you flowers and who is there when things are not going well. Listen to Miley !"

It was a coincidence that Y/N "listened to Miley" as she was driving home.

Accustomed to it, she didn't jump when Murdock got into the car at a red light, continuing to sing until she got to her place, knowing he wouldn't speak until they were in the apartment.

Yet, he growled in the middle of the song, before turning off the radio. Y/N made no comment, deciding to wait several hours before asking him how his day had gone.

Another novelty was that he actually answered her, using more than sound bites or cryptic remarks. Spider woman had been awful, Otomo had been awful, Castle had been awful, everyone had been awful, and he wanted to forget about all that until at least tomorrow morning.

Matthew let her stroke his hair gently, like a big cat. Again, Y/N made no comment to be able to enjoy this moment as long as possible.

Then he added something else that was not part of their contract. He asked her how her day had gone. Normally she would talk about it, but he never asked. It was weird.

But not as weird as the flowers she found on her desk the next day. Red roses. Her colleagues teased her, asking who her secret admirer was, but there was no card.

Red was a fairly obvious card.

Y/N hesitated to call Matt, to ask him why. She didn't remember that anything special had happened the night before, nor that today was a special celebration. When they met in front of the courthouse, she didn't broach the subject. Yet he seemed to expect her to talk about it. Weird.

The day passed quite normally, Y/N losing the case against him, and after offering to take him for his famous victory coffee, he decided that they could go on foot.

And as they walked down the street, Matt took her hand.

"... What are you doing ?"

"Shut up." he muttered, continuing to walk and squeezing her hand.

"I'm just trying to figure out what you're doing. Flowers, now that ? And then what ?"

"You want more flowers ? You want to go dancing ? I wouldn't write your name in the sand, I think that's stupid, and I'm not going to the beach anyway."

"... Murdock, is it because of yesterday's song ?"

"The stupid song. The stupid spider. Your stupid heart that always beats fast when we're together. Shut up now, and take the flowers."

"Matt..."

"Take the flowers." he whispered, like a plea, because he couldn't give her anything else, he couldn't give more, even if he wanted to.

"Okay. Thank you." Y/N said watching their hands. "Do you do this with the others too ?"

"There are no others."

"The spider said that..."

"No coffee. We're going home. There's no other. Neither for you, nor for me." It was not easy to know if he was lying, because Y/N could not hear hearts, and as a lawyer she knew to be wary of a man who for more than an hour made everything possible to make her forget this conversation, and the idea of seeing other men.

It was still difficult to concentrate, because her silly lover ended to be a damn good kisser, totally focused on his goal.

There was also the new visit of Spider woman, who had had some threats and insults from Murderdock for having entered his privacy, but the girl came to tell her, or at least repeated to her, that according to Matt, the others were colleagues or instruments, nothing more.

"I told you, I think he likes you. He winces when I talk about you, he doesn't do that with other people."

"It's good to know."

"He bought you flowers, then ? Nelson said it would work."

Ah. So it was a plan from the start. Well done Team Spider, one point.

"Don't say that to Matt if you don't want our dear DA in trouble."

"I think he already knows. Mr. Nelson is scared."

"Matthew won't do anything to Franklin, he adores him."

"I don't know. He doesn't grimace when I talk about him, he's got a big creepy smile instead."

Y/N saw very well what smile it was. Nelson wasn't going to die, but he was probably going to regret having forced Matt to face his feelings, and moreover to confess them to someone.

She would send flowers to him in the hospital, unless Matthew considered that he was also the only one entitled to flowers.

#Daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murderdock #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfic #earth 65

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c-is-for-circinate · 1 year

Text

On one hand, there's definitely more of this to be written, and possibly even more of this scene.

On the other hand, posting now means it gets posted at all, and I also happen to think that the place where it ends is very, very funny.

In short: Dustin is a smart kid with a lot of good ideas. Unfortunately, he knows this about himself, which is also his greatest flaw. Set somewhere between Stranger Things S3 and S4.

---

Dustin shows up at Family Video on a Wednesday night. Steve never works Wednesday nights -- slow enough that Keith can spare him, late enough in the week that most girls are actually wiling to consider it a date night. He's seeing the second Nightmare on Elm Street movie, which Dustin is maybe a little annoyed about because it's only been out for a week and the Party needs Steve to get them into R-rated movies, he knows that. But Steve just said something about horror movies being essential opportunities for girls to cuddle in close so you can protect them, and completely ignored Dustin's totally reasonable comments about how Steve is the one to freak out at jumpscares most of the time when he watches horror movies with them, and went anyway.

Which is so stupid, because there's literally nothing real to protect a girl from in a horror movie. Steve has literally protected Robin from actual Soviet torture, with his actual face. Dustin saw him through that concussion! Dustin knows perfectly well that Steve probably drew the Russians' attention on purpose the whole time he and Robin were in there!

And somehow, he and Robin still aren't dating. If that isn't enough, then Dustin really doesn't see how putting an arm around a girl to save her from Freddy Krueger is going to do any better.

So Dustin bikes his way to Family Video, in the dark because it's November in Indiana, and when he gets there he folds his arms on the counter and gives Robin his brightest, most patient smile. She takes one look at him and rolls her eyes.

"He's not here right now," she informs him. "So if you want to badger him into renting you an R-rated movie, you're going to have to come back tomorrow, I'm not your babysitter and I'm not doing it."

Dustin just keeps grinning at her. Broadly.

"You know, Robin, we never talk," he says. Robin groans.

"Oh god, what now?" she asks. "And get off the counter, Keith's in the back and if he sees you he'll throw a fit."

"Keith is taking a nap back there and we both know it," Dustin scoffs. As if he doesn't know Keith's habits. "He only ever comes out of the back when Steve's working because he likes to make Steve do menial tasks while Keith hits on the hot girls that he thinks come in here because Steve's working."

"Fine, whatever, it's creepy that you know that," Robin sighs. "What do you want?"

"So I've been talking to Steve," Dustin says. "You know, our friend Steve. Pretty face, good hair, excellent reviews on the kissing front."

"Ew," says Robin. "Ew, no, you're twelve, don't talk about Steve kissing. Don't talk about Steve kissing at all!"

"Excuse me, one, I'm fourteen years old, I am in high school, where I just saw you earlier today, so it's not like you're that much older than me," Dustin says. "Two, if we don't talk about kissing Steve, how are we going to get you two over this weird little speedbump you're having where you're somehow not dating yet?"

Robin groans again. It's louder this time, and she also tips her head back to the sky while she does it. Dustin waits patiently.

"I'm not going to date Steve," she says. "Please stop bugging him about this, it's not going to happen. I don't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to talk about it, can you please just let this goooooo." She groans the last word, drawing it out like Mike when his mom tries to make him clean his room.

"Not until I see you two happy," Dustin says firmly, unmoved thanks to many years of being friends with Mike. "Steve is one of my best friends, and not only are you his other best friend, we've been through the heat of battle together, which means you're my friend too. I want both of you to be happy, and clearly there's nothing you like more than spending time together--"

"Yeah, because we're friends, Dustin, that's what friends do," she says, but Dustin has proof.

"Friends don't have to get jobs working at the same retail store even after their old one burned down," he begins.

"We're good coworkers and otherwise he'd have to break in a whole new set of coworkers who haven't had to deal with Dustin Henderson already for months," she says.

"You work well together, you compliment each other, you already get along with his other friends..."

"Not sure if 'getting along' is the right phrase right now," Robin mutters. Dustin ignores her.

"He's always giving you rides places, he's literally left a date to give you rides on multiple occasions --"

"Like he doesn't do the same for you!"

"Robin," Dustin says pityingly. "Leaving a date? When it's not the end of the world?" It's so obvious how much Steve likes her. Dustin's never seen him act like this with anybody since Nancy. Not that it's exactly the same as Steve used to act with Nancy, but clearly that's just because he's had time to grow and mature, and Robin's better than Nancy for him anyway. She keeps him from stressing out too much. "Driving you to school every morning even though he couldn't even get there on time most days when he was a student himself?"

"I don't have a license!"

"You really don't have to worry about it," Dustin says. "I happen to know for a fact that Steve would date you in an instant if you said yes."

Well. A strongly-supported scientific theory, anyway, which is basically the same thing. Anyway, it should be enough to get Robin spilling whatever self-doubt she's bottling up -- she's too nerdy, Steve only dates slutty cheerleader girls, whatever -- so Dustin can explain to her all the ways she's wrong, and they'll finally be taken care of.

"And I happen to know for a fact that he wouldn't, so how about you take the word of the person he's actually not dating and drop it?" Robin demands. She sounds on the verge of actually upset with him.

"But why?" Dustin demands right back. Which is really the crux of it, isn't it? Dustin has been asking the world why at every turn for fourteen solid years, and he has never let it back down without a fight.

"Steve likes you! You're at least as pretty as all those other girls, and it can't just be that you don't think you're cool enough for him, because lest we forget, the last time he was actually in love instead of just being kind of easy for any girl to look his way twice was with Nancy Wheeler, who is by definition a nerd!" Dustin lays his most damning evidence out rapid-fire, taking down Robin's arguments even if she hasn't made them yet. "He's a hot guy! He's kind of a catch! You're a cool girl! You actually like him back! What is the problem here!"

"Not every guy likes every girl just because they're a girl!" Robin fires back at him. "Not every girl is attracted to every guy! And you know, the fact that you think that is insulting and reductive, when some guys and girls don't even like girls or guys at all, and what would Suzie think, Dustin? What would Suzie think if she heard that you think every guy should date every girl he's friends with just because he's friends with her?"

"First of all, Suzie thinks you and Steve are destined to live happily ever after once he saves you in another bold act of heroism," Dustin informs her. Obviously. "Second of all, what do you mean, some guys don't like girls and girls don't like guys?"

And then Robin gets a look on her face. Dustin might have let it go, if Robin hadn't gotten that look on her face.

It's a split second of sheer panic. Robin ducks away from him, turns back to the Family Video checkout computer like she's trying to be casual, but her hands are anxious, picking up a stack of videos just to put them down, and she's not looking at him, and Dustin saw it. Dustin saw.

"It's just a thing, that happens sometimes, right?" Robin asks. "You can't just assume you know what somebody wants, that just because two people are both attractive they're going to want each other. You don't want to date Max, right?"

"Actually, yeah, I had a crush on Max when we first met, and I reconciled myself to her choice of Lucas in favor of slightly strained friendship until I discovered the love of my life in Suzie," Dustin informed her. "Much like Steve reconciled himself to Nancy's choice of Jonathan, until he met you and suddenly started spending all of his time with you. And anyway that's not what you said, you said that some guys don't like girls at all, which sounds like you're talking about gay people, which doesn't even..." Except that Dustin's thoughts are starting to catch up with his words, and he's trailing off, because. Because holy shit.

Steve dates so many girls. So many! He's constantly hitting on them and striking out, almost like he's just going through the motions, like he's not even trying except for appearances' sake. Even when he goes on actual dates they never last more than once or twice. And he's been doing it like that since high school, exactly like that. He's blown off dates to give Robin rides places. He's blown off dates to give Dustin rides places. He once blew off a date to sit in Mike Wheeler's basement and doze off on the couch while the Party spent three hours building D&D characters for their first-ever Hellfire Club campaign.

And Nancy? Nancy Wheeler, who Steve was totally in love with, except that according to Mike they started having problems basically as soon as the very first demogorgon fight was over and didn't stop for the next full year? Nancy who left him for Jonathan, who Steve is still friends with. Steve and Jonathan are better friends now than they were before he and Nancy broke up. Or at least they were before the Byers left for California, anyway, and that's basically the same thing, Jonathan was probably Steve's best friend actually his own age before he met Robin which was really sad, actually, but--

Steve getting super close with Robin after getting dosed with Russian drugs that were meant to make them tell the truth! Robin and Steve acting like they knew a secret that they couldn't tell anybody else or else!! Robin swearing up and down to the ends of the earth that she knows Steve doesn't want to date her for a mysterious reason she can't and won't explain!!!

"What, no, who said anything about gay people?" Robin is babbling, collecting more and more videos in her hands like a nervous D&D player who thinks hoarding dice is going to save them from a red dragon, but Dustin ignores her. "I just meant that attraction is complicated, and--"

"Holy shit," Dustin breathes. "Holy shit, is Steve Harrington gay?"

Robin drops the tapes.

#C writes stuff #Stranger Things #and then Dustin proceeds to make SO many terrible plans #just so many #poor Robin #POOR STEVE

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nomoreusername · 3 months

Text

The Best Greenie

Pairing:Thomas x female reader

Summary:When a new Greenie comes up you realize this one might be worth keeping around.

I always hated Greenie day. Most of the time they gawked at me like I was some sort of freak. The truth was I was just the only girl. Obviously not all of them were creepy. Most of the time it was innocent curiosity, but that doesn't make it any less irritating.

"You're not going to greet the Greenie? You're usually over the moon about them,"Frypan said, nudging me.

"Yes. I especially love when they stare at me. It's fantastic,"I remarked, rolling my eyes.

"Exactly. Don't forget about the ones who end up flirting with you,"He said, as if I needed a reminder.

"So much to look forward to."

"We got a runner!"Someone yelled loud enough for it to travel through the kitchen.

"I do want to see this,"I said, heading outside. I wasn't disappointed when Greenie faceplanted hard. Though I must admit he was pretty close to the Maze in a few seconds. He seems to have Runner potential.

"Darn. He almost had it,"Frypan said.

"I don't know. He got pretty far. I think he might just make it."

"Y/N/N, Frypan. Were you two that interested in Greenie?"Winston asked.

"Yeah. I wasn't disappointed,"I shrugged.

"You're about to be. It's time for you to introduce yourself so we know Greenie isn't a slinthead."

"Oh goodie. I love this part,"I sighed.

Greenie was already in the slammer due to his little stunt by the time I had to meet him. I gave another annoyed sigh, but nevertheless I made me way over.

"Hey Greenie. You alright?"I asked.

"What is this place?"He asked, his eyes wide with fear. He wasn't as bad as some of the others. A lot of Greenies are shaking and sobbing their little hearts out. As harsh as it sounds you stop feeling bad for them. Eventually, you grow used to it.

"I'm going to take that as a yes. All I'm allowed to say is welcome to the Glade Greenie. I'm here for the mandatory speech. I'm the only girl here so don't be a creep. Blah, blah, you'll be locked up if you're weird. Blah, blah, blah, don't try anything."

"Do you really have to give that speech every time?"He asked.

"You'd be surprised. I've got to get going. By the way nice running. You got pretty far until you faceplanted. Impressive,"I complimented.

"Really?"He asked skeptically.

"Yeah. You did better than the last guy,"I shrugged.

"Y/N! You're needed in the kitchen,"Alby called.

"I gotta go Greenie. I can't wait to see you tonight. I think like you'll be more fun to hang out with than the last guy to,"I winked.

"Y/N!"Alby yelled.

"Duty calls. See you later. I hope you get to work on the kitchen."

#tmr thomas #thomas tmr #thomas x y/n #thomas x reader #thomas maze runner #the maze runner #one shot #tmr #meet cute

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hannahssimblr · 3 months

Text

Where u?

I text Jen from the lonely beach house, Saturday night, the last weekend of the summer and she’s not responding. I give her five minutes and then text again.

I glance at the clock. It is close to midnight now and she’s been gone all day. Ivy and my parents are sleeping, but I sit fidgeting on the couch, trying and not succeeding to watch a DVD I rented last week and forgot to return.

I text Shane.

Five, six minutes, no response, so I try Joe as a last resort.

Silence. I groan with frustration and open the contacts menu on my phone, the clunky buttons clicking furiously as I scroll to Jen’s number. I can’t believe she’s reduced me to this; to calling her like some relic of the 1990s. I jam the phone up to my ear and listen to the dial tone, leg shaking, teeth worrying at my lip.

And the call is dropped.

“What the fuck?” I mutter in outrage and navigate to Shane’s number. Hey, man. I imagine myself saying as it rings. I know it’s so weird to call you but I was wondering if you’re with Jen. See I’m just stressed about it in case she’s gone to Joe’s weird brother’s house again. Last time things got a bit weird and I wanted to make sure that-

Shane rejects my call.

This time I spring up from the couch and start pacing the room, circling around the coffee table, from the bathroom door to the stairs.

Phoning Jen. Call rejected.

Now I'm panicking. I’m imagining her passed out at some heinous house party in a pile of broken glass and blue absinthe. Actually, she’s dead. She’s died and it’s all because of me. Or there’s a creepy guy, maybe-

“Hello?” Her voice finally comes over the line and I almost fall to my knees with relief.

“Oh my God, Jen!” I cry, only then realising how insane I sound. She, however, sounds pissed off. “Why did you ring me like seven times?”

“You weren’t picking up.”

“I’m busy, we were watching a film.”

“What? Where?”

She hesitates.

“With who?”

“Um,”

“Jenny!”

She lets out a hassled sigh, “Look, Jude-”

“Are you three hanging out without me?” If my entire family wasn’t asleep I would be yelling, but they are, so I am hissing into the receiver, incensed. How could they do this to me? “Wait, you’re planning a surprise party, right? Something I can’t know about, isn’t that it? My birthday is in November though, you’re a few months early but I appreciate the thought, really. So kind.”

“C’mon, Jude.”

“Where are you?”

“Well, I went outside to take your call…” She says vaguely, and I hear the chirping of grasshoppers in the background, nothing specific enough to give her location away.

“You’re at Joe’s caravan.” I surmise.

“No.”

“Shane’s?”

“Here, look, I-”

“You’re at Shanes! Aha! I caught you out, you little sneak!” And I grin triumphantly until I remember that I am offended, actually, and what they’ve done is hurtful. Sorrow takes hold of my heart, “Wait, why are you hanging out without me though? Why are you hiding this from me?”

There’s a few seconds of silence on the line, and I'm only certain she is still there because I hear Joe’s distinct laugh muffled somewhere in the distant background, “I’m sure you kind of know why,” she says eventually, “you know, with it being Shane’s place and all, it’d just be a bit awkward.”

“Awkward? How?”

“You should probably sort this out between the two of you but-”

“This is about Clóda.”

“Clóda? Um, no, it’s not about that, that’s not what he said anyway.”

If I keep interrogating her I’ll get answers, because Jen is easy. She’s about as good at keeping secrets as a tabloid journalist and she never keeps things from me, at least not for long and I can sense the cracks forming, perfect for sticking my prying fingers into. “Oh?” I say, “Well if it’s not about her then what is it?”

“Really? You can’t think of anything else?”

“No, seriously! Just tell me.”

“I think you should talk to him.”

“What? No, you tell me-”

“It's none of my business!”

“Jen!”

She hangs up.

I curse and stare down at my phone for several long moments, my heart is pumping in my chest. What the hell? I open up a message to Shane and type frantically.

I delete it. Asking him to meet me somewhere implies that I want to fight him, which I decidedly do not want, because he’d pummel the absolute shit out of me and walk away with half my front teeth lodged in his knuckles.

As though possessing some telepathic connection with me, Jen sends me a text.

I slump onto the sofa and stare vacantly at the TV screen and think about all of the things that I have ever done wrong in my life. The time I went to a theme park and shot repeated water cannons at that couple until their inflatable boat capsized. The time I broke my wrist while riding a wheelchair down the travelator in Tesco and got banned for life. The time I drew a giant dick with weed killer on the lawn of the catholic girls school near my house, and so many more things. Smashing flower pots, throwing stones, accidentally breaking vending machines, but I never did anything to intentionally hurt my friends, not really, not maliciously. Everything I’ve ever done has been in the pursuit of entertainment, something funny, something memorable, something to beat back the boredom like encroaching nettles that will sting and blister my ankles.

Yet it’s not really a voice of reason I can hear in my head now, it’s my fathers, a disembodied head floating by my ear.

“Why do you act like this?” He scolds, “you’re not a child anymore, we shouldn’t have to deal with this kind of behaviour. Can’t you just sit still? Can’t you just be calm? See this is it, this is how you are, you don’t think before you act. You know, other parents don’t have kids like this. Other parents have kids that do as they’re told, who don’t cause trouble, who don’t get phone calls from the school reporting of yet another problem, another detention, and you’re-”

I jump as my phone springs to life on the cushion beside me, buzzing obnoxiously and hopping toward the edge of the seat. I’m certain it’s Jen again, so I snatch it up in a fury.

“Look, Jen, you were right, it’s not a good time to talk. I actually think I just want to be on my own and…” I trail off when I realise it is not her on the line. It’s someone else, maybe someones. All that I can hear is giggling.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy #hmm whatever could be wrong #yikes though #we love the classic teenage tactic of just not inviting someone lol

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atimeofyourlife · 10 months

Text

She hadn’t really meant to find out. It’s just Robin’s first time seeing the inside of Steve’s bedroom, and the urge to snoop was too hard to ignore. He’d basically given her the go-ahead to look around and investigate his stuff. In fact, he was just laid back on his bed, watching her.

The contents of the drawer, at first glance, was nearly enough to make her close it immediately. But, then she noticed a flash of color behind the neatly folded boxers and briefs. She grabbed the item, and turned to face Steve, brandishing it.

“And what do we have here?” She asked, holding it out.

“I, those-” Steve sat up and blushed as he noticed she was holding a pair of lilac lace-trimmed high-cut panties.

“Has someone been keeping souvenirs? Wait, are there more?” Robin turned back to the dresser, and pulled the drawer out further. And there, right behind his boxers and briefs, were a variety of panties, all carefully folded and organised into the space. All different colors, some lace, some cotton, some that looked like silk. “Wow. That’s a lot.”

“Rob, I-”

“Jesus, how many girls have you kept trophies of? This is borderline creepy.” Robin said as she pulled out a couple more pairs.

“It’s not like that.” Steve protested, wanting her to drop the topic.

“Then what is it like? You just keep a stash of ladies' underwear in case anyone you bring home needs a change? Or are they all from one girl that you keep for her?”

“Robin, they’re mine.” Steve burst out, his face burning with embarrassment.

“Just because girls leave their panties behind doesn’t really make them yours, Dingus.” Robin replied.

“They’re mine as in I brought them and I wear them. Happy now?” Steve snapped before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

Robin froze for a few seconds. She hadn’t meant to upset Steve, only tease him a little. She genuinely hadn’t noticed that she’d gone too far until he’d snapped at her.

She pulled herself out of her thoughts, and made to go after Steve. She knew she needed to apologise and hear him out on it. As she stepped out of his room, it hit her how big his house was. There were so many places he could have gone to hide from her, she didn’t really know where to start. She didn’t want to just start opening doors to look for him, as she was unsure if there was anywhere that was off-limits.

She had the thought to try downstairs first, maybe he’d gone to the kitchen, or even outside. She went to step away, and noticed that the door to one of the guest rooms was slightly open. She pushed it open, saw that the window was wide open, and remembered Steve telling her how he used to climb out onto the roof when he wanted to get away from his parents.

She crossed the room quickly and leant out of the window. She scanned what she could see of the roof, until she spotted Steve’s feet. She took a deep breath before carefully pulling herself out of the window and onto the roof. She was a little hesitant as she approached Steve, partially due to not wanting to fall, and partially because she didn’t want to upset him further.

Robin sat in silence for a couple of minutes, before speaking up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, and I was wrong to keep pushing it after you’d tried to get me to stop. I was judging you on something very intimate and personal, and it wasn’t fair of me to do so.”

“It’s ok. It’s just you kept pushing about it, and I got into my head. It’s not a normal thing, I know it’s weird. So I get defensive.” Steve replied after a moment.

“It’s a bit weird, but it’s not like you’re hurting anyone.” Robin paused for a second. “I just want to ask, is it like a sex thing?”

“No. No. It’s nothing like that.” Steve protested. “I just like wearing them. I like how they fit and how they feel and how they look. I just see them as a prettier alternative to my other underwear.”

“Do you wear them a lot?”

Steve hesitated a little, before answering quietly. “Almost exclusively. I only wear boxers or briefs if I think there’s a chance of someone else seeing me with my pants off.”

“Are you wearing some now?” Robin asked curiously.

Steve blushed and nodded. He opened his jeans and pulled the side down a little, so Robin could see the baby blue lace hugging his hip. “I feel more myself when I wear them.”

“Ok. One thing I don’t get is how the hell did you find out you like it?” Robin demanded. “Like did King Steve randomly decide to try panties one day?”

“I. It was Carol’s fault. Middle school. Eighth grade.” He picked at a loose thread on his jeans as he spoke.

“You’re going to have to walk me through that. Like Carol Perkins, biggest bitch in the school, is the reason you wear panties?” Robin seemed a little confused.

“Well, it was her and Tommy. We were hanging out at hers one day, and Tommy made a comment about how she should wear more lacy underwear for him. She told him it was uncomfortable, and if he liked lacy underwear so much he should wear it himself. She found a couple of pairs that her cousin had given her, they were too big and she didn’t like the style. She gave them to us and made us try them on. Tommy made a joke about it and had it on and off in seconds. But when I put mine on, it just felt right. Carol had said to throw them in the trash when we were done, but I swiped both pairs and took them home.” Steve explained, a light flush still visible on his cheeks.

“Did either of them notice?”

“Tommy didn’t, thank god. But Carol must have. She never mentioned it, but the next time I was at hers I came home and found she’d snuck the rest of the underwear from her cousin into my bag. And it kept happening until we stopped being friends. Every time her cousin gifted her underwear that was always too big for her, she always passed it on to me by leaving it in my bag if I was at hers, or in a drawer if she came here.” Steve said, his voice had a sad note to it.

“I’m having a hard time seeing Carol, someone who was a bully and bigoted and I know she called a bunch of girls dykes, being cool with knowing a guy, one of her best friends, wears panties that she provides.” Robin’s voice was tinged with disbelief.

“She wasn’t a good person, but she could be a good friend. And I guess that’s why I miss her friendship more than I miss Tommy’s. I’ve never known anyone better at keeping secrets. You could tell her almost anything and she would take that shit to the grave.” Steve replied.

“So, what about the two years since you’ve been friends? Because some of the ones in your drawer looked nearly new?”

“Once I got my car, I would drive to Indianapolis to buy them for myself, it means I can choose the ones I like without risking it getting out.”

“Which ones do you like the most?” Robin asked after a moment.

“Lace. Anything that is lacy and has enough coverage. I tried a thong once and it’s the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever worn. But something pretty with soft lace? I’ll get it in every color.” Steve looked over at Robin and squeezed her hand.

“Thanks for trusting me with this, Steve.” Robin leaned into Steve’s side. “But, I can’t believe that you own more panties than I do.”

This has been sitting nearly finished in my google docs for months, so I finally got the last bit done and here it is. I do have ideas for two more parts of this, but who knows if I will ever get them written

#steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stranger things fic #atimeofyourwrites

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dairy-farmer · 3 months

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Tis I! The frenchiest fry! 🐼/ back with my Thoughts(tm).

And Superhero Weirdness Homosexual Tim anybody? I think we SHOULD.

Now you may ask: "isn't that just a long way of saying Homosexual?" And NOPE! I know what I typed. We're being LITERAL here. "Homo" as in self, sexual as in self explanatory. He is very much still Bi as Fuck.

He's just... learned some things about himself.

Namely? That he's REALLY kinda in to himself. And that he'd like "himself" to be IN him. When the chance comes up. Which! It doooooes.

Because time travel, Multiverse, and other such shenanigans occur with startling regularity. And Tim is a Bat. He has... ISSUES with trusting other people around his body naked. Himself though? Once they've done they "we're not evil!" Song and dance?

Well, if he can't trust HIMSELF? Then he could never be naked again.

And they? Are different enough to be not creepy, but similar enough to be trustworthy. Plus! Some of them are Cis Dudes. Lucky bastards. Well... sorta. If you discount the whole doomed timelines, distopian worlds, and deeply bastardy Bruces. Okay, so not LUCKY. Just highly specifically less shit.

And it's ALWAYS a THING. Bruce and Bruce posturing at each other like territorial cats. Hood and hood trying to kill each other. Dramatic screaming matchs between Nightwings. It takes hours.

Tim? He has codes. Standardized questions. It takes him like 5... MAYBE 15 minutes to confirm or deny whether this is an "evil alter self" scenario. Then they have to wait hours? Fuck no.

At FIRST? He would go get pizza. Swap notes. Have them go over his case notes to see if a fresh pair of eyes helped. But like... then puberty hit HARD. And the Tim was actually a Tam. With like... boobs. That she WANTED. It was wild. But she was also kinda cute?

And it occurred to them... they could make out. They did. It was awesome.

It kept happening too. Different selves, coming to his world, being sent to theirs. Making out. Exploring stuff. Until? This zombie outbreak in Central. Some idiot punched a hole into a zombie apocalypse world. They helped contain it. But an older future Alt-Tim was there. All rugged and looking for a cure. Holed up in the labs once he helped beat the zombies back behind a barricade.

Tim helped. Made sure he ate, since he didn't know nearly as much about biology or diseases. Listened to Alt-Tim's fears that a cure would be pointless. That too many had.. had...

What started as a hug, turned into something more. Lead to him on a pull out bed, being gently worked open by callused fingers and a hot tounge, lined by unshave jaw. Gripping unwashed hair like his life depended on it as those fingers FOUND things. As that mouth focused on making him as wet as it could. Was pulled into powerful arms, held close and cradling, as he was nudged open by something blunt.

Speared impossibly slow on something that pushed all the air out of him.

Alt-Tim shaking and sucking in air like the pleasure physically HURT. Head tucked tight to Tim's neck, holding him so tight it nearly hurts. Rocking and rocking. In helpless little ruts, to get deeper. To be more connected. To FEEL the connection to another living soul. Like he wants to crawl into Tim's skin and cry.

Tim's first time is all desperate rutting and crushing heat. He can barely breath. His hole pounded in deep, urgent, grinding thrusts like at any moment they'll be forced to stop. Alt-Tim finds something inside him that light fireworks behind his eyes, something he didn't know was THERE, and rutts and grinds and POUNDS against it until Tim is sobbing.

It's the first time but it's not the last. How COULD it be? When Alt-Tim finds his cure and heads home? Tim is actually sad to see him go. But there are other himself.

He finds he likes the older Him's the best. And the supernatural ones are interesting. On rare occasions there's even more then one of him! Of course, they are Bats. Discreet. He gets a reputation. Prudish. Doesn't date. Uninterested.

It's awkward to explain to people, so he usually just... doesn't.

But. He forgot something. Unlike him, but it happens. Do you think the senior bats would let him be around Unknowns without cameras? Just In Case? If you do, you clearly don't know them.

It could be anything, really, the tips them off. Tim lookin a little TOO excited to spend time with his unknown Alt-Self. They way the older man "leared". But protective instincts rear up. They spy in. Get an EYE full.

Tim, being POUNDED on his own bed. Bent in half and clearly enjoying it. By himself?! The check the archives of past interactions. Is this? Normal behavior? Dear lord it IS? How do you move forward?

Do you demand he stop fucking "strangers"? With their potentially dangerous Multiverse disease carrying bodies? Do you pretend you never saw anything. Do you volunteer? Keep "watch" to insure he remains safe around these unknowns?

So many options! Up to you!

-🐼

yessssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!! this is so perfectly horny! the only thing better than one tim is TWO tim's fucking!!!!!!!!

tim losing his virginity to some post apocalyptic version of himself who's been stuck in a zombie wasteland, likely surviving by himself because it's sort of a universal constant for tim to be the sole survivor among his friends and family wen shit goes side ways.

that tim is desperately lonely and seeking comfort and connection with tim who is so very turned on and into this aged version of him who ruts deep into him and punches out gut-deep sounds of pleasure.

it's amazing. tim is not a prude it's just that he's never really felt a deep attraction to other people. there's always something wrong or something that puts him off about them. but other hims?

they just get it. they understand what to do, how to touch him. he loves the older hims the most. the ones with salt and pepper hair, with fine lines from stress. a few lucky tims get actual cocks and tim will be damned if he doesn't touch them and marvel over them.

but the older tims. god the older tims. the ones who have experience and know how to fuck or who are so tightly would up and fuck him hard to work off some stress.

they were the best.

the ones that came a close second were the twin tim's. instead of being timothy jackson drake a few universes had timothy AND jackson drake. identical twins who double teamed tim. and if they were as good in the field together as they were with tim then tim understood why that universe's bruce looked so chill and at ease.

so tim is having a nice good time with fucking alternate versions of himself from other universes. he has come to terms with an accepted that the only people he feels genuine sexual attraction for are himself. and as much as tim may have a reputation for being straightlaced and a prude in his universe, his reputation in the multiverse is VERY different. because other universes and especially other tim's talk.

that might be why that other tim looked so eager to see him. unlike the usual crowd this tim was tall and muscular. it seemed to be more of a mirror verse than an alternate universe but tim supposed there had to be some tims out there that was more frat boy like jack wanted rather than the wizards and warlocks dork janet bragged about. but tim is no less eager. maybe too eager.

because barely a day after that universe is packed up and sent home bruce and the others confront tim about his 'habit'. they try their whole 'its dangerous' schtick but tim was not about to risk losing the opportunity to fuck other tim's. it's one of the few times he and the family genuinely butt heads.

it all comes down to one thing. would they rather he ignore them and continue to do it but just get better at hiding it or would they rather let him keep doing his thing and they could keep tabs.

tim is offering to let them watch if they want and that's a better deal than anyone else in his universe was ever going to get.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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