#so whatever little you want to eat when the flaring happens

[dovkss]

bakugou using your mouth in the library during a weekly study date with your friends…

word count: 2.2k

warning: 18+; manhandling; blowjob (m receiving); degradation; slapping; public sex; possessive & controlling katsuki; choking & gagging; cum eating; yandere themes; poor eijiro once again :((

all characters are aged up !!

a/n: quick first drabble from my first story “dumb bitch” since a lot of you asked for a part two but I don’t want to do one, I’ll continue more drabbles from the story if asked ! enjoy ! (^_^)

You and the girls gathered at your usual study spot in the library on a quiet Saturday afternoon. You all were preparing for an exam and knew that studying together would help big time.

Kirishima was also there, like he always was. But he barely spoke. Ever since he discovered you and Bakugou on his bed, sprawled out like heathens, things were awkward to say the least.

You, the girl he’d cared deeply for, had chosen Bakugou over him, and it felt like a dagger was plunged into his soul.

He would think back to before everything went to shit. When classes for the day ended, he would see you leaning on his car when he'd go to the parking lot. You would greet him and lock your arm with his and you both made your way to the other side so he would open the passenger door for you.

You'd beg to go get ice cream or ask if he could take you home so you wouldn't have to take the bus. He would never say no to you, only nod like a dummy. It was like you knew the scent of your perfume made you irresistible to him.

When he would go to open the driver door, the handle would be warm from your ass. The day after the next, you would be back again to do the same thing.

You wanted to apologize to him, but was shut down by Bakugou. His nostrils flared and he rolled his eyes. "He'll get over it, stay away from him. Why? Because I told you to! Don't question me, you're fucking mine."

You respected his wishes, but you felt it was wrong.

You guys settled down at the spacious table, surrounded by shelves stacked with books, each section thoughtfully curated. They housed literary classics, contemporary bestsellers, niche genres, and even rare manuscripts. The atmosphere in the studying section was calm and serene. Soft whispers and the sound of turning pages filled the air.

You opened your rented textbook, and laptop, setting down your regular coffee next to them, ready to dive in.

"God, my head is killing me," Mina whined. Dramatically, she slumped over in her chair and rubbed her temple with two fingers.

"Still? It's been like a week," Momo asked.

"I don't know what's happening to me! Maybe... I'm dying..."

"Don't say that, death isn't funny."

"I never said it was, I'm being serious!"

"You're not gonna die from a headache, Mina. Stop being a baby. Maybe learn how to swallow a pill, it'll help."

Mina groaned and shook her head. "You know I can't do that!"

"Then stop complaining!" Momo snapped back.

You shook your head in disbelief. It seemed that the girls would always find something mundane to argue about. But that was just their dynamic. If there were a day they weren't bickering, you'd be worried.

You glanced up at Kirishima who sat across from you. His head was in his notebook; he was taking notes. You watched him, observing how he studied. His handwriting was a little sloppy, as he seemed to be writing fast. His tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth a little.

He was adorable when he was focused.

He looked up, meeting your gaze. You didn't look away. His red eyes glistened in the sunlight that came through the windows. You smiled at him, being sure to show off your pearly whites.

He sighed and went back to jotting down whatever he was writing. You frowned and opened your mouth to speak up, but you were suddenly yanked up by your arm.

You gasped and dropped the pen that was in your hand. You knew that tight grip of his, it never failed to make you shutter.

"Been tryna reach you for hours, y'know?"

You giggled. "Well I can't be available all the time."

Bakugou wasn't amused. His ears flushed in anger and his jaw clenched.

He dragged you out of the library, you winced when he tightened his grip on you. He was tall, his long strides made it almost impossible for your legs to keep up at a normal pace. Looking back, you were surprised.

Momo sat silently, taking a deep breath. Mina watched in confusion as to where he was taking you and wondered if you’d be back. Kirishima just stared. He seemed calm, like he wasn't worried.

He wasn't.

“Be right back you guys- ow!” You flinched. Bakugou had yanked you by your ear, forcing you in front of him so you couldn’t look anywhere else but ahead.

Leaving the study area, Bakugou took you to an empty part of the library, all the way on the other side. Furthest away from your friends.

He shoved you into one of the shelves and stood in front of you. He towered over you, his wide chest almost caging you in that one spot.

“You wanna embarrass me?” He asked, how voice low and intimidating.

You shook your head. “No… of course not, Katsuki! What did I do?”

His infuriated state didn’t subside. Your innocent question only intensified it.

“You should know better than to ignore me,” he said.

You shook your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m sorry, okay?”

“You always have your phone on you, I’m not stupid.”

You looked up at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “My phone is in my bag, we needed to focus for this exam and I didn’t want to get distracted. I didn’t mean to worry you… forgive me?”

He scoffed at your sudden change in demeanor. You looked at him with those eyes. The very same eyes you gave him whenever you wanted him to take care of you in more ways than one.

“What a fucking whore you are.” He spat at you, his hands running down the sides of your waist.

“You know me so well—after I study, you can come over. I’ll make it up to you!” You smile softly, biting your lip.

Bakugou didn’t react, he just looked at you. It was hard to read him. You were never able to tell what he was thinking. That’s what made him stand out to you in the first place.

“Why are you studying with Kirishima?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Well, that’s how it’s always been. I can’t really control if he’s there or not either…”

“Fucking figure it out. I don’t want you around him, if that means you have to kick those sluts to the curb as well, then so be it.”

He was serious. Of course he was, there was never a moment where he wasn’t. But he didn’t actually expect you to let go of Momo and Mina did he? Your best friends since… forever!

You frowned at his words and your arms dropped from his neck. You fiddled with the hem of your sweater and looked away from him.

When you didn’t give an answer, he brought his hand up to your chin, forcing you to look at him. “So what’s it gonna be?”

You were unsure of how to answer. Obviously, you weren’t gonna stop being friends with them. They were there first, it would be unfair.

“Why do you hate him so much?”

The grin on his face became more prominent. Slowly, teasingly, his hand smoothed down your hair before he pressed against the back of your neck. “Because he wants what’s mine.”

He pressed down hard, pushing you down to your knees. Your heart sped up when you realize what’s happening.

You blinked up at him, unsure of what he wanted you to do. You were also too scared. Your hands shook a little at the thought of getting caught. That would be a nightmare.

He tilted his head at you. “You don’t expect me to do everything, do you?”

You looked to both sides of you worryingly. “What if someone comes, and we get in trouble, or worse- suspended. Or even worse! Expelled! Oh my god, I’d be in so much trouble, my parents would kill me and I would be a disgrace and they’d disown me and they’d take away everything I have, everything I love, oh my god I’m gonna have a heart attack,”

Bakugou rolled his eyes at your nervous rambling, unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard cock. He slammed your head back on the shelf which shut you up immediately, his cock in his hand, he tapped your lips with it.

“Are you done? Needa’ use your mouth for something more productive right now.”

You closed your eyes, letting out jagged breaths, and nod submissively. He chuckled then forced his cock between your lips, putting his entire length down your throat.

Your squeals are muffled when he thrusts into your mouth. He explores your tongue and feels the inside of your cheeks. It made him crave you even more.

“Looks at me baby- aah, shit. Look at me when your mouth is full.” He exhaled.

You did as he said without question. One thing about Bakugou, his moans were gorgeous. They never failed to make you feel special.

It always sent shivers down your spine whenever his breaths let you know how much of a good girl you were being. Your nipples became hard, almost being visible through your thick sweater. The pain at the back of your head became a distant feeling.

The only thing you focused on was him. How good he was making you feel, and how you were doing the same to him.

His breath hitched as his thrusts into your throat became more powerful. His balls slapped against your chin and saliva spilled from the corners of your lips.

“Wider,” he panted. “Open wider… deeper…”

You tried your best to widen your lips more to his liking. But you were as wide as you could go, his cock was already forcing your mouth wide open. It was hard to breathe through your mouth and your jaw started to cramp.

He leaned over you, his arms and forehead resting on the bookshelf. You could tell he was focused, his expression was serious.

You felt yourself growing more wet when you began to gag on his cock. The lewd noises were a little loud, the thought of being caught scared you but you didn’t care about that now.

He moaned more, cursing at you under his breath. It was so faint, you couldn’t hear what he was saying. But you were willing to bet it was so hot.

Hs shoved his hand to the back of your head and began forcing you down on his cock. Your eyes shot close when you started choking on him even more.

His grip on your hair tightened and you could tell he was close. You tried to be good for him and just take it. But the roughness was too much to handle.

You whined and whimpered, but he ignored you. The only thing on his mind was chasing his high. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth and you moaned.

That set him off. His body jerked ever so slightly as he released down your throat. His gasps were soft and mixed with shits and fucks.

When he pulled out of you, a long string of his thick cum mixed in with your saliva connected between his cock and your mouth. He lifted it off his end and placed it in your mouth.

You prepared your throat to swallow before he caught it and flung his hand across your cheek, your head snapping to the side. You whimper and bring your hand to your slapped cheek.

“Don’t swallow until I tell you to.” He hissed.

You nodded and stood slowly, resting your head on his chest. He cleaned himself up a bit, putting his cock back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans.

He led you back to your friends and left without a word. You sat down quietly, grabbing your phone from your bag and rested your head on the table.

13 missed calls and 22 unanswered texts.

“What happened back there? Are you alright?” Mina asked. You looked up at her. She was worried, like usual. You only smile and nod.

“Are you sure? You look exhausted,” Kirishima added. You nod again, your tongue playing with the cum still in your mouth.

You felt your eyes ready to close so you can get some rest until you felt your phone buzz. You lifted it from your lap and unlocked it.

It was from Bakugou.

“Send me a pic of my seed in you. Then I’ll allow you to swallow.”

You cringed. What if your friends saw? What would they think of you if they knew what just happened?

But you couldn’t ignore him. You’d end up in bigger trouble later if you did.

You opened the camera app and turned the camera around. Kirishima was right, you did look exhausted. Your eyes were barely able to stay open, it looked like you had been crying.

You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. You snapped a photo of your expression and examined it before sending.

It was clear as day, the cum in your mouth. It was awfully abundant and salty. Having it in your mouth for longer than three minutes would surely make your breath stink like crazy.

You sent the picture to him and awaited a response. It wasn’t long before you got a reply.

“Disgusting whore.”

#bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki #dark content #yandere katsuki #bnha bakugo #bnha smut #mha bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere boku no hero academia #katsuki smut #bakugou x fem!reader #yandere bakugo #tw yandere #yandere #yandere bnha #bakugou x you #bakugou katuski x reader #yandere bakugou #mha fanfiction #yandere blog

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

s/o with yelan, shenhe, navia, xianyun that got badly injured and s/o is treating their wounds ^_^

take your time!

(Genshin Impact) Yelan, Shenhe, Chiori, and Xianyun's S/O treating their wounds

Navia has already been done in this post, so I shall compensate with the newly arrived Chiori!

Yelan winced as S/O finished wrapping her arm, giving them a wry smile.

(Yelan) "Thanks. Sorry for showing up like this."

(S/O) "As long as you're okay, it's fine. But what in the world even happened?!"

Yelan was silent for a moment, thinking of how to answer S/O's question before giving them a kiss on the cheek.

(Yelan) "Bad fall."

(S/O) "Really? A bad fall looks like slashes all over you?"

(Yelan) "What can I say? It was sharp. But trust me, you won't have to worry about it hurting me again."

(S/O) "Just...please don't scare me like that again."

Despite her coy tone, she gives S/O a reassuring squeeze on their hands. Yelan truly did appreciate having someone to come home to, and it was a reminder of why she was out there to begin with.

Shenhe remains still as S/O helps wrap the bandage around her stomach, exhaling a little in relief.

(S/O) "Is it too tight?"

(Shenhe) "No, I will recover just fine, thanks to you."

(S/O) "Okay..."

S/O knew Shenhe wasn't the type to lie. If she said she was going to be fine, then she was.

But their anxiety must've been easy to read, since S/O was quickly hugged by Shenhe.

(Shenhe) "You do not have to worry. I will not go down so easily."

(S/O) "I...I-I know, Shenhe. I still don't like seeing you get hurt."

The faintest hint of a smile forms on Shenhe's lips as she somehow hugs them even tighter.

Unintentionally almost snapping something in S/O and cutting off their breathing, but they could literally feel the love almost crushing them.

(Shenhe) "If it means I do not see you harmed, then I will endure whatever pain awaits."

(S/O) "C-C...CAN'T BREATHE!"

Chiori hissed in pain when S/O rubbed the cloth on her leg, gripping onto the chair.

(Chiori) "Gah, that stings!"

(S/O) "I didn't think something like that could happen in a clothing shop! Your leg looks like it was slashed by a sword!"

(Chiori) "I was lucky it wasn't my hands or arms that got injured, but this will certainly make work a lot more annoying..."

(S/O) "C-Come on, at least act a bit more concerned about your own health! You can't work if you're dead!"

Chiori hummed in acknowledgement as she rose to get up, S/O helping her with one hand grabbing hers.

She clenched her teeth when she properly stood up but turned to S/O with a small smile.

(Chiori) "...Thanks. I'll make you something sweet when we're back home."

(S/O) "Just rest up instead of working yourself more, please."

(Chiori) "Alright alright, I promise."

Chiori didn't need S/O to baby her, but it was times like these where she was reminded how much better S/O made the work day.

Xianyun looks at S/O curiously as they wrap her hands in cloth.

(Xianyun) "This One must bring up the point that bandaging my arm is moot. The form one currently takes does not entirely reflect-"

(S/O) "It'll give me peace of mind knowing you're at least somewhat taken care of. Can I at least say that?"

Xianyun chuckles, adjusting her glasses but then quickly recoiling in pain from doing so.

(Xianyun) "Ack! R-Right. One appreciates your concern, then."

Xianyun tries to play it off cool, but honestly S/O made her heart skip a beat with acts like this.

This injury was truly nothing, and they definitely knew that.

But that didn't stop them from caring about her.

However, the real consequence from her injury was the fact she could not indulge in eating her food as much as she wanted.

(S/O) "H-Hey! That much fried food will make your injury flare up!"

(Xianyun) "Nonsense! Such delicious delicacies has nothing to do with one's-"

(S/O) "The doctor told me that you should at least wait a few days before eating something that hot."

Xianyun pouted, annoyed she had to put the food on hold.

(Xianyun) "Hmph, One does not need a doctor to tell her what one can't eat!"

(S/O) sigh

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #yelan x reader #shenhe x reader #chiori genshin impact x reader #xianyun x reader #yelan genshin impact #shenhe genshin impact #chiori genshin impact #chiori x reader #xianyun genshin

[norrisleclercf1]

hi, are you taking requests for smut too? i'd love one for charles, where usually he's not really into rough sex but one day he just goes for it and surprises y/n

A/N: Charles doesn't seem like one to have rough sex, but this was fun to write

Warnings: Rough sex, public sex, not really you're on his yacht, whatever just enjoy, p in v, wrap before you tap, slight bondage, dirty talk, spanking, slight ass play, daddy kink, sue me okay I popped off with this one

You hated tan lines, which is funny considering your boyfriend posted the ultimate tan line picture a year ago around this time. Charles was careful in picking a place that would allow you privacy.

He didn't want cameras capturing you naked on his yacht. Besides, you're his fiancée you should be allowed to tan nude on his boat if you want too. Smiling at the seclusion, you take off your top and soon your bottoms enjoying the way the sun warmed your skin.

"Sunshine, you need sunscreen." You laugh at his comment as his summer break photos are infamous for him always having the worse sunburns ever. "Maybe you should wear the sunscreen." Taking the bottle for him.

"I don't care if I burn, just don't want you too. Now give it." Reaching for it, you pull back. He shakes his head and goes to grab it again, only for you to do the same. "Give it here." You squeal as you and Charles wrestle for the bottle, everything ending when Charles's hand wraps around your throat and pins you down.

"When I say give it, you give it." His voice stern, the look in his eyes and hand on your throat as your squirming. You can see the lightbulb go off, throwing the sunscreen away he smirk. "Awww, did my little sunshine get excited by this? That's cute." Hand careful to not hurt you or cut off your oxygen.

"Charl." You buck your hips, but his hand pushes it down. "Nahuh, stay here. Don't touch yourself." He whispers removing his hand and dipping into the back of the yacht.

Holy fuck. Charles as never once acted this way towards you. He never had rough sex with you, you didn't mind it. But, shit....were you turned on like crazy. Unable to help yourself you dip your fingers in, whimpering when you feel a pool of wetness. "Mmmm." You screw your eyes shut, rubbing your clit gently.

"Are you really that much of a slut, you can't wait?" Eyes flying open, your fiancé stands there holding a piece of rope. "I'm so wet, Charles. Look." Smirking you spread your legs wide, showing off your pussy. His nose flares, trying to stay in control.

If this was a normal sex night, he'd drop to his knees and eat his fill drawing out gorgeous moans. But, this wasn't a normal sex night, and he was going to show you that. "Tsk, can't even listen to simple instructions can you?" Stepping forward his hand in on your neck.

Gasping he shoves you back on the plush deck. The front of the deck was for people just lay, it was simple and your favorite spot on the yacht. "Charl, please it aches. Help me." You beg trying to get some type of friction. "Stop." You freeze, the command settling deep in your bones.

He let's go of your neck, flipping you onto your stomach you yelp. "This is what happens when you don't behave." He bites your ear, letting go as he sets your hands on the railing. "Gorgeous ring, who gave it to you?" You giggle at the question, but moan when a stern slap to your ass is given.

The rope in his hand was being tied around your wrists and railing, not to tight, but enough you couldn't break free. "My fiancé." You moan, trying to lean back to rub into him. His body over yours. "Hmmm, very lucky guy." Humor in the words, you smile glad to know he was still his soft self. "Very, very lucky indeed. But, let's not talk about him." Charles smiles, seeing the smile in your eyes.

"You're right. I'd rather make you scream." You try to hit back with a quip, but you gasp out a moan feeling another slap to your ass. Spreading your legs, Charles hums rubbing the soft flesh before trailing his hand to your pussy. "How gorgeous you look, Sunshine. Fuck, that fiancé of yours better never fuck up." You nod, trying to form the words.

You couldn't as Charles was always good with his fingers, the way he'd move them should be illegal. "Do I need to finger you or eat you out, Sunshine? I want to make sure you're ready." The soft words, has you blushing. How in the world could Charles be so sweet and then so nasty at the same time.

"No, I got a little needy earlier when you were napping." His jaw twitches but says nothing as he nods. Standing up over you he pulls off his swim trunks. You hate that you couldn't turn around and see him. Charles naked it stunning, he was just perfect. "Condom, or no?" Charles was making sure he didn't overstep.

He's never been rough with you before and he refuses to go too far that it's too much. "No condom, fuck Charl hurry. I'm so wet and needy. God I want to feel you fill me up, please." You beg pulling your knees up and arching your ass up. "Fuck." He curses wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping himself a couple of times.

Getting back on his knees, he pulls you down. He thrusts up watching the way his cock moves between your ass cheeks. "Charles, next time. Just fuck my pussy Daddy!" You moan, unable to help the words fall from your lips. "Sweet jesus, Sunshine." Charles slides into you, his cock even harder from hearing you call him that.

You let out a loud moan, Charles holding your hips as he takes deep breaths trying to calm down. He doesn't wait, moving back and forth fast. "Yes, yes, uhhh." You gasp, shaking your head as Charles fucks into you fast. The sound of skin slapping, and your moans drive him crazy.

"Such a dirty slut got needy and used your own fingers to get off. Then you don't even wait a minute before you're touching yourself again. Were you that hungry for Daddy's cock you needed to misbehave huh?" You yelp Charles's fingers digging into your hair as he arches you up.

"Speak." He changes his pace but keeps the same deep thrusts as he circles his hips and goes forward sending your eyes to roll into the back of your head. "Yes, I'm a dirty slut." You gasp, Charles releasing you, falling forward you moan.

"That's right, you are a dirty slut. But, my dirty slut." He whispers reaching down as he rubs your clit sending you over the edge. "Oh, GOD CHARLES!" As he fucks hard into you, but the movement of his fingers on your clit slow driving you crazy. Moving fast he tugs on the rope watching fall.

Pulling out of you, you whine hating when he leaves you empty. Moving he towers over you, as he pumps is cock you sit up sucking him down. The feeling of your mouth on him sends him off the edge as he comes deep in your throat.

Pulling off of him, careful to not overstimulate him. The two of you gasp for air, before falling into a fit of giggles. "Are you okay?" He asks, pulling you into him. "Yes, you?" Placing soft kisses on his chest. "I'm perfect. By the way, maybe we should do that again." You smile loving the idea.

"Definitely."

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 scenario #f1 smut #f1 imagines #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff

[metallicaislife]

A Steamy Halloween

A/N: I am so bad at flirting irl and that translates into my writing I'm so sorry hahahahah I think what happens after makes up for it thoughhhh 😏

Requested by : Anon

Genre: 18+ Smut, minors dni

Word Count: 1,531

Warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, m x f pairing

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride there?” Kirk asked for the third time over the phone. 

“Yes, I’m running behind a little bit so I’ll just see you when I get there, okay? Plus, it’s not that far from my house. A short walk won’t kill me.” I said holding the phone between my shoulder and ear as I applied the deep red lipstick. 

“Fine, I’ll see you there.” He finally relented. 

“See ya.” I said quickly and hung up the phone. 

I took my time with finishing touches of my costume.

I entered the party, greeting a few people. I was on a mission to find my best friend though. When my eyes landed on him, I was surprised to see he was already looking at me. I made my way over to him. 

“If you spotted me why didn’t you say anything?” I asked folding me arms. He finally snapped out of whatever spell he was under. 

“I.. uh sorry. Um, nice costume.” He said swallowing hard. Internally I smirked, I was in a short leather dress that accentuated my body perfectly, and a pair of platform heels. 

“Thanks.” I smiled showing off my fangs, tried and true sexy vampire for the win. “Are you a ghoul?” I asked. His eyes were surrounded by black paint and contoured his face to give it that hollow look. 

“Bingo.” He replied with finger guns. What a dork. My favorite dork though. 

“Anything fun going on here?” I asked, finally taking the seat next to him. 

“Not really. But it’s still early.” He shrugged. 

“You’re forgetting who’s throwing the party, my guy. If it was me there’d be games but it looks like all this is, is a costume mingle.” I huffed. 

“Wanna give it a while longer then get outta here?” He asked. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

We got up and talked with some of the other party goers. I was right though, all these people were interested in talking, no drinking games, kissing games, you know a normal party. 

About a half an hour later, my eyes met Kirk’s and I gave him the signal we concocted to give the other when we wanted to leave a situation. Kirk nodded and we met at the front door. 

We walked to his car in silence. He opened the door for me.

“Thanks.” I said sliding in and buckling up. He walked around getting in. 

“Where to?” He asked, starting his car. 

“I’m hungry, are you?” I asked as I  fidgeted with my hair.

“Yeah, the diner okay?” He offered our usual spot to eat. 

“Always.” I replied.

The diner was on the other side of town. Music played softly over the radio. Kirk has been my best friend since grade school, but sometimes it felt like he was my boyfriend except without the perks of kissing among other things. Things that I thought of more often than I would ever admit. Sometimes I flirt with him just to see his reaction. He does the same though. It’s like we’re stuck in this vicious cycle of seeing how far we can push that boundary. Feeling confident in my costume and the reaction he gave from seeing me in it I decided tonight would be a good night to push that boundary button.

“You know, if the party turned into a make out party I’d have let you kiss me.” I said. I was serious, but I kept my tone light. I looked at him, his nostrils flared but he didn’t say anything so I kept going. “I would have even let you touch me.” I said dropping my voice to sound sexy.

“You talk an awful lot for someone who won’t actually do anything.” Kirk snapped as he clenched the steering wheel. My mood soured and I quickly snapped back. 

“You’re one to talk.” 

I jolted in my seat, the seat belt tightened, not letting me go far. 

“What the hell, Kirk!” I exclaimed. 

He didn’t say anything as he pulled the car over and parked where there weren’t many cars or foot traffic. 

“Get in the back seat.” He said in a dark tone. 

“What?” I asked, looking at him. His eyes met mine, there was a fire I’d never seen before. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” He warned. My eyes widened as warmth pooled low in my belly. I fumbled a bit as I unbuckled and got out of the car sliding into the back seat. My heart thrummed in anticipation. Moments later Kirk followed suit and got out of the driver's seat and entered the back. He locked us in. His demeanor broke a little and he said, “if you don’t want to do this, tell me to stop.” 

He scooted closer and I moved so I could crawl onto his lap straddling him. 

“I want you to fuck me.” I said. The fire returned in his eyes and our lips met in a deep kiss that I felt in my toes. 

Years of imagining this moment, and it was something so much more than I could have ever wished for. His hands gripped me tightly as I tangled my fingers in his hair. 

I grinded down on him feeling him begin to harden. He pulled away and started sloppily kissing my neck as I continued grinding against him. My dress was riding up and his warm palms ran up and down my thighs as he found my sweet spot and bit down. I moaned as my hands explored the planes of his chest through his shirt. I found the hem and began lifting it up and he pulled back enough to let me help him take it off. I immediately dove in kissing and nipping at his chest. His hands kneaded my ass then he began to lift me. It was a bit cramped but he managed to maneuver us so I was laying across the back seat, my feet planted on the seat knees up. My dress was bunched up to my stomach. Kirk knelt as he rubbed his hands over my legs. His pupils were blown, lips swollen. He looked hot as fuck. His hands traveled further until he was at the top of my panties. He began pulling them down and I shifted my hips up so he could take them off. He shoved them into his back pocket. He ran his fingers through my folds eliciting a moan from my throat. He slipped a finger in, then another, using his thumb to rub my clit. 

“Oh fuck… don’t stop.” I moaned. He smirked. 

“Does it feel good?” He asked.

“S’good.” I moaned louder as I got closer to my release. I squirmed as I came, a slew of curse words leaving my lips. 

“So fucking sexy.” Kirk commented. He pulled his dick out of his pants rubbing my release over it. My hooded eyes met his eyes as he moved closer. He rubbed the tip over my clit, I whined. 

“Want you in me.” I breathed out. He aligned himself with me and thrust in. He let out a groan.

“Thought about this for so long. Gonna fuck you so good you won’t get off to anyone’s cock but mine.” He said, and I believed him. The windows were fogging as he began pistoning his hips, our breathing heavy. He paused for a moment to lift my hips and resumed, I screamed as he hit my g-spot. The car shook with each thrust. I came again, my eyes rolling back. He continued dragging out my pleasure before pulling out, he fisted his dick and came on my stomach. He lowered my hips and rested his forehead on my knee. After a while in silence regaining our breath he sat up tucking himself back into his pants. 

“Stay there.” He said and got out going to the passenger door. I heard him rummage about the glovebox before coming back around to kneel between my legs. He had napkins and tenderly cleaned my stomach. 

“Thank you.” I croaked, my throat hoarse from screaming. 

He smiled and helped me sit up bringing my dress back down to cover me. I got out of the backseat and he rushed around to open the passenger door. He stopped me before I got in and kissed me, I immediately kissed him back. He pulled away, a goofy grin on his face. 

I got in and we resumed our voyage to the diner.

When we got there, Kirk opened the diner door for me, following behind and softly resting his hand on the small of my back. 

We were led to a booth and sat across from each other. I ordered fries and soda, while Kirk got a salad. 

“Do you want to go back to my place after and watch Halloween?” Kirk asked. I munched on a fry and nodded. 

“Can we watch Creature from the Black Lagoon after that?” I asked. 

“Of course.” He replied with a smile. 

We fell into comfortable conversation. Part of me wondered how the dork in front of me was the same one from 20 minutes ago that absolutely rocked my world.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

#metallica x reader #metallica #metallica imagines #metallica scenarios #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett #metallica smut #kirk hammett smut

[stararch4ngelqueen]

OR OR OR OR

soft!jason with reader with a chronic pain flare up??? (NOT self indulgent... 0vo)

Hopefully this puts a smile on your face!

—

Time written - 12:20 a.m

—

It would be a huge lie if Jason didn’t agree to the question of him going into huge research over your chronic pain. Stacks of books tucked neatly into shelves, each page worn and weathered with annotations filling each page. Multiple corners creased with neon tabs to note striking information.

Both his Google and Bing history littered with bookmarked tabs on how to deal with the pain on the heaviest of days, and how to cope when the unintentional inevitable happens.

For a man known for brawn first before brain, said in confidence via the eldest Wayne brother, Jason’s way of showing you love was acts of loving service. Whatever he could possibly do to make these flare ups just a bit more bearable.

How he’d know you were suffering first thing in the morning was your complete lack of movement. You always clung to him in some sort of way in your sleep, but raising your wrist in a desperate attempt to cover your trembling shoulders with a blanket seemed impossible. So a warm, soothing hand was more than happy to do it for you.

Jason would pepper your neck in kisses after murmuring a soft morning, then asking you a simple question: “One through ten, sweetheart?”

To him, anything higher than a three meant immediate care and aid.

Vitamins were first before breakfast, only being out of bed and out of sight long enough for him to prepare something easy for you to eat. Last thing you needed was an upset tummy due to taking pain meds on an empty stomach.

He’d become your personal heater for the next few hours, helping you change into one of your favorite shirts from his wardrobe before securely spooning you in bed, or on the couch. Arms gently cradling along your waist, fingers inches away from a heating pad’s settings along your most agonizing spots.

Whatever you wanted or needed, Jason wouldn’t mind to get:

Pain medication at the doctor’s specified dosage hour? Right after a small snack.

Heating pad not hot enough? Jason will guide his palm along the pad to gently press it onto the aching area, making sure it reached every desired nerve and muscle.

Everything tolerable enough to eat food without feeling like you’ll get sick from the pain? Jason has no issue in preparing or ordering in something he knows you’ll enjoy. He will, however, limit how much you eat. Just in case you get sick.

It’s a little challenging at times for Jason to carry you during the worst of it, as the slightest bend in your afflicted limbs can make it worse. Though sometimes, you despised laying so still for so incredibly long, feeling like a withered leaf in the sheets. Jason never pushed you, and while he wasn’t a fan of you pushing yourself, if you pushed that hard just to get a damn bath, he just had to comply.

“Just a little more,” Jason guides you with loving encouragement, allowing you to grasp along his forearms as tightly as you needed. You were haunched over, unable to fully stand at the expense of searing hot knives jamming deep into your gut, into various joints, and you couldn’t do a thing to make it go away.

“You wanna go back to bed?” Jason questions, concern spilling throughout his soft tone. You only muster the courage to shake your head before dragging your foot against the cold floor, determined to chase the promise of hot water in a confined space.

He sighs before gently reinforcing his hold on you. “Alright. Come on. My little babushka is so close to the door.”

Of course he’d make a joke here and there. Whatever it took to stoke the embers of amusement in your body.

The success of reaching the bathroom came at a cost; an agonizing cost.

An overwhelming mix of pure relief and heavy regret resorted you to tears the moment you catch a break, sitting down on a closed toilet while Jason filled the tub with hot water.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Jason cradled your hands in his, fingers damp after doing a temperature check. “You made it. It’s almost full, an’ it’s gonna feel incredible.”

“It hurts,” you freely sob, tears rippling down your flushed cheeks. “I can’t, Jason. It hurts so much.”

I can’t take it. That’s what you meant to say, that’s what Jason understands as he gazed upon you with heavily sympathetic eyes.

“I know baby, I know.” Jason cooes, rubbing his thumb along the back of your thumb before lowering his head, pressing a kiss onto your cradled hands. “But you did so good today. You toughed through it, I’m so proud of you.”

Not an hour would go by where Jason wouldn’t leave you alone, letting you rely on him for anything you needed. Which also meant he’d be your shoulder to lean on inside a scalding hot bath.

“I’d imagine this must be what lobsters would feel like,” Jason chuckles from behind you, letting your tender body settle back against his chest, your shoulders nearly submerged in warm, CBD infused bath salt waters.

“Think I’ll turn red like one after this?” Jason keeps the conversation going as his hands work along the areas of your body that needed the most attention. Your upper shoulders, your abdomen, your knees and ankles, along your outer thighs. Wherever he could, he’d work on with careful and gentle hands, watching your face contort as his efforts work to ease the debilitating tension.

After an evening of such treatments, another task Jason found the most … satisfying to help you with was skincare. You’d sit on the toilet again, dressed in fresh clothes which consisted of another borrowed shirt of his, skin moisturized with towel dried hair.

Your body felt more settled than before, allowing you to keep food down better and sit up a little more properly, with less of a slouch. Your eyes remained closed, a tickle of a smile growing on your lips as your boyfriend’s calloused fingers massaged calendula cream over your cheeks.

“What?” Jason spoke up, forming a smile of his own. “What’s with that look, pretty girl?”

“Nothing,” you say. You could’ve brought up how you joke about men and their fourteen in one products, but pure sentimentality got in the way of any attempt at humor.

“Uhuh,” Jason responds, gently tilting your head up with a finger under your chin. “Did I miss a step in your complex routine?”

“No. Just really appreciate you.”

Jason’s heart melts, the blooming fire bringing a warmth to his smile. He’s just doing his job is all. It’s the least he could do for the one that reassures him that he’s striving towards being a better person. A better man, one you deserve.

“Making me blush, princess.” Jason sets all your products back where they belong and begins the process of bringing you back to bed.

You woke up in this bed in total agony, only to sink back into its soft, cozy sheets and tear dried pillows in better shape than before. The pain wasn’t completely gone, it never fully would be, the stark reminder of your personal heater trailing little circles along your thighs as you slept would always try his attempt to say otherwise.

Vigilance never really dies, signified by every kiss laid across your forehead.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x #jason todd gotham knights #jason todd dc #I don’t have these problems and I’m sorry you suffer from it! #hopefully this little Drabble make you smile

[frogserotonin]

overthinker- lars pinfield x reader

a/n: short one bc im still in a slump rn many sorries. also sorry lawl this fic is so disconjointed and i’m really unhappy with it but whatever 😭 warnings: nothin proper i don’t think, most ooc lars to ever ooc, unedited; tell me if i've spelt smth wrong 😁

“Would you want to go out to get some lunch together on our break?” Your fingertips bounce off of the sides of your legs as you try to remain composed. You're so high-strung right now, you almost expect him to laugh in your face. Nerves and the effects of having slept a fitful two hours last night override your usually rational brain and you feel the need to just run away without receiving an answer bloom in your chest.

“I thought you usually brought lunch? If you forgot to bring some you can have some of mine, if you want.” Lars doesn’t even look up from what he’s working on, just adjusts his glasses and uses a vague jut of his elbow to point to his locker, where you know his bag is. Your heart simultaneously drops and stutters. 

“Oh, it’s okay, I just felt like going out to eat, thank you though.” You try to make your words seem more upbeat than you feel, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a rejection.

“Oh. Okay then.” It must be your imagination, but his words hold a hint of disappointment. You open your mouth again, then close it, and silence re-envelopes the room. Turning, you make your way to your desk and begin to work away, dejection slumping your shoulders forward and making time drag on. When eventually the lunch break arrives, you grab your bag and rush your way out of the lab.

A squeak of shoes on the concrete floor behind you almost has you looking back, but your brain is so addled you almost believe you’ve made it up.

Like a fool, you don't talk to him when you come back, or when you leave, the time you spend alone and in silence building up an anxiety in the back of your mind. The idea that he's all too aware of your feelings, and is made uncomfortable by them and your advances overtakes you completely. That night, you stay awake, tossing and turning, over analysing every interaction you've ever had with him, trying to make sure you've not overstepped and made a complete and utter fool of yourself.

In the morning, you consider it a miracle you leave the house at all, with how tired you are. The thought of calling in sick crosses your mind, but by the time you get up your body automatically locks itself into its usual routine, and you mindlessly get dressed and make your way to the Ghostbusters facilities. Through your drowsiness, the realisation that you’re at your desk and doing absolutely nothing sets in and you jolt. 

“Good morning.” If he didn’t sound so concerned, Lars would sound thoroughly amused. “You alright? Look a bit…off.” Your face flares, and you go to stand up, only to stumble and almost fall on your face. Hands out, you stabilise yourself, and then face him.

“Yeah. Morning.” You can only hope that he backs off, because his concern seems too genuine for your feelings to not expand exponentially the more he stands before you looking like he cares. “M’feeling just peachy, you?.” Belatedly, you realise your words are clearly not convincing because he doesn’t move an inch, simply studying you. He then sighs and shakes his head, chuckling a little bit, just softly under his breath, taking a couple steps closer to you. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” His voice is too gentle, too un-Lars-like, that you’re almost convinced you actually did fall asleep last night, and now you’re dreaming. You open your mouth to respond, but find yourself nodding off as you do so, the last thing you process before fully passing out is the feeling of arms around your chest and shoulders. 

When you come to, you sit up quickly, and slowly become aware of what had happened. Muttering cursing to yourself under your breath, you take in your surroundings, finding yourself slung over the small couch situated in the room reserved for taking time off from work briefly. Hurriedly, you rush out of the room towards where you assume Lars is working, apology already on the tip of your tongue. You approach him quickly and loudly, a fact that can be gathered from his head immediately snapping up when you enter the room. He starts to speak, no doubt to rattle off reasons why you were irresponsible and stupid for coming to work while being aware you weren’t at your fullest capacity, but you cut him off.

“God, I’m so sorry. That was humiliating, and I’m so, so sorry that it happened, it won’t happen again.” You bow your head, refusing to look him in the eye, but quickly look up again when you hear him laugh. 

“It’s fine, really, you just scared me a little bit.” His smile is small, but sincere and you remember fully the reason you were in the predicament in the first place. “Are you feeling better now?” 

You probably look a bit crazy with how vigorously you nod, but you barely care anymore. 

“Yes, thank you so much, really, I’m sorry that it happened.” He laughs again, and it sounds like heaven.

“You don’t need to thank me or apologise,” Lars’ eyes sparkle a bit behind his glasses when he properly smiles, and you can feel warmth rush to your face. He hesitates, like he’s calculating his words, then gently says “I-uh. I care for you a lot, it really meant nothing for me to make sure you were okay.”

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield x reader #ghostbusters frozen empire

[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Reader : ONE DAY

All week you and Jack were moving and settling into your new house in Louisville, it was a busy week of moving stuff around and lots of unboxing.

You were finally happy when you both decided to relax for the weekend since you both had it off, and didn’t have to report into the studio or fly out anywhere.

Jack had suggested a movie and takeout in bed, just spending alone time with each other. It was very much needed due the busy week, hell- even busy months.

“Babe, food is here.”

“Oh yess, I’m starving.” You throw on one of his tee shirts, and toss the wet towel to the side.

“I had something else for you if you were hungry.” He grabs at his crotch, smirking.

“Be for real Jackman.” You hop to your side of the bed. “Feed me please, and before you start, I mean with actual food.”

He laughs. “Here you go.”

You both eat, sharing your food with one another, all while watching a movie.

After a few hours, you’re both still in bed but scrolling through your phones. Answering friends and families texts, and scrolling through social media.

“Babe, you think this is cute?” You turn to face him, but you notice his eyebrows are furrowed and his nose is flaring, all signs to him being mad or annoyed.

“Jack? What’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath and tosses his phone at the edge of the bed. “N-nothing, just something silly.”

“It’s not nothing if it made you upset.”

“I mean, you’ll think it’s silly.”

“Jackman, just tell me what’s wrong.” You brush his curls back, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. “Your entire mood changed, and I just want to make sure you’re alright bubs.”

He sits up, reaches for his phone and hands it to you. “She’s talking about how I’m disrespectful and that my music sucks. A whole lot of other stuff and it just got me upset, that’s all.”

You listen to the video, and all you feel is anger and confusion.

You shut off his phone and toss it to the side with yours.

“Hey.” You face him but he’s not looking at you, you signal for him to lay completely on his back, and you follow on top of him.

“Look at me bubs.” You grab his chin and turn his face towards you so he’s looking at you. “Fuck her, fuck what she has to say.”

He rolls his eyes. “Easier said than done.”

You nod, “I agree. But baby, she doesn’t know you, she doesn’t know the real you. I know how amazing you are, how kind and well mannered you are.”

You place your forehead against his for a few seconds. “How you take care of everyone around you. No one knows the real Jackman. Your music? Bubs, your music is loved by all your true fans, you are loved here in your hometown. People who don’t have access to you can say whatever they want, but at the end of the day, they couldn’t be more wrong, you’re special, something out of this world.”

“You’re my girlfriend, of course you’ll say that.”

“Baby, I was in love with you even before we started talking. I fell in love with the way you carry yourself.” You reassure him, smiling at him.

“Y/N” He whimpers out, you can see his eyes are getting teary. “It was just stupid of me to listen to that.”

You shrug, “It happens, but don’t you go believing a word a hater has to say. I know you and I know you’re nothing like she went on about.”

“I’m going to marry you one day you know?” He smiles at you lovingly.

“I’m going to hold you up to that.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Nonsense, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else who isn’t you. Don’t let them get to you, because I have no problem calling everyone out, I’ll fight them all if I have to.”

He smiles, “You really do love me.”

“In and out the stars bubs.”

“It’s you and me?.” He asks.

“Always.” You lean down and give him a kiss on the lips.

“One day Y/N, and that day may come sooner than later. I’m going to make you my wife and we’ll have little mini us running around. You just wait.” He gives you a long and deep kiss, holding you close, heart to heart.

He meant what he said.

You two were finally settling in, and the next big move was a proposal, and he was already making plans.

•••••••

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x yn #jack harlow x you #jack harlow x oc #jackman thomas harlow

[gatorlovebot]

The long simping puppy Simon anon is back because you summoned me (totally didn’t ascend to heaven realizing you wanted more of my dumb thoughts). I’m having a flare up in some disability shit so I’m not the most coherent but I’m focused on the turning point of when puppy play starts to turn sexual. Like reader is still so conscious of Simon and his trauma and his boundaries, so they just tell Simon “take what you want. You’re always my good boy, and good boys get rewards.” Just showing him he’s always allowed pleasure, that it’s not something shameful or that needs to be earned, that you always want him to feel good, and his brain is just replaying “you’re always my good boy” on a loop. He starts off with just humping various parts of your body, or rides you thigh, but he’s staring at your clothed cunt and drooling a little. Him humping against your foot/calf before he finally just shoved his head up against your cunt trying to huff your smell through the fabric of your pants and panties and whining when he can’t. You have to shove them down to mid-thigh without moving your foot at all (don’t want him to think you’re leaving or punishing him), and he’s immediately there, panting and huffing and cumming on your leg, but he still continues to hump and when he finally gives a kitten lick to your dripping pussy? He immediately cums again from the taste.

After that day, he’s further obsessed with your pussy, the smell of it, the taste of it. His favorite way to cuddle is to be on the floor with his doggy bed beneath him for his knees while you sit on the couch and both your legs are over his shoulders, so his face rest right at your clothed cunt, letting him dream as he smells his favorite smell from his favorite place <3 he steals your panties constantly, huffing them and sucking on them. You don’t need to buy him any chews, just give him your used panties <3

Of course, the whole time you’re praising him, telling him he’s never done anything wrong, that you love him and how much he loves your fat cunt, that he’s welcome to do anything at any time because he is your precious good boy, and all that jimmy jazz.

Just becoming free use to your precious puppy to make sure he knows he is allowed pleasure <3

oh anon, i love your thought and want them all the time <3 and i'm so sorry you're going through a difficult time rn, sending you love and good vibes!!

i loooove the free use aspect of this so much because that's all i want to give him. he's such a good puppy, he deserves pleasure and i'll give it to him however he wants and needs it. i do think it might confuse him at first, not really understanding this dynamic because he's the puppy which mean you're the one that's supposed to be in charge and yet here you are...letting him use your body however he wants? it's not that he doesn't trust it at first, having spent months building trust between the two of you so you could things exactly like this, it's just not what he was expecting. but those thoughts quickly leave his mind as soon as you start cooing at him and he gets a whiff of your wet cunt.

he gets whatever he wants from you because pleasure is never going to be conditional. but even with that, he's the perfect boy, never does anything wrong. he sits at your feet without any issue, let's you fuss over him and takes praise and pets perfectly, when you hand feed him food he's so gentle, licking at your fingers in apology if he happens to nip them when eating a morsel of food.

he deserves anything and everything from you. the humping is just soooo <3 i want him to be at just his basic animal instincts, being so worked up and needy and desperate he just ruts his hips against any part of your body he's closest too. and he thinks about your pussy soooo much before this point. you've spent days and days just focusing on him, letting him know he's allowed to have these feelings and wants, allowed to take what he wants from you. but he's not sure he's allowed to have your pussy.

but he's just so desperate for you, can't help but shove his face against the warm heat of your cunt. he's messy with it too, but thick tongue drooling all over, slobbering all over your folds. he whines and yips at the way your cunt pulses against his tongue and writhe against the couch.

and YES he is absolutely obsessed with your used panties. i love to imagine its something that he doesn't open up to you about at first, not sure if it's a step too far. but one day he's left alone, you needing to step out for a few hours and he takes his chance. he roots around in your dirty laundry like a naughty puppy before he finds his prize. he brings it up into bed with him, curled up in sheets that smell like you before he rubs his face in the crotch of your panties, drifting off. he's startled awake when he feels something warm and something against his back, you've arrived back home to find him bundled up in his makeshift nest. he tries to hide the panties, embarrassed and ashamed at being caught, but you reassure him that's ok, that your panties are his to take if he wants them. you tell him how good it makes you feel to know he wants your scent when he's not around. you wrap yourself around and fist his weepy puppy cock, letting him hump in your hand, cooing in his ear as he's cums thick and wet in your hand.

he's just so perfect and i neeed him <3

#feel free to always send me your puppy simon thoughts anon they truly give me life #and feel free to claim an emoji or like sign off to your messages however you're comfortable with so i can keep better track of them #but only if you want to! #gator.writing #puppy simon

[everlasting-rainfall]

Do Katakuri next :3

Hey, Moonlit-Friend! So Katakuri, Huh? If I can find a way to tease you about this later in a call then I absolutely plan to, I hope that you know that...

But knowing our friendship then that’s probably going to turn around and bite me in some shape or form, not that I mind though

Anyways onto the story!! Sorry in advance if I didn’t do it good!!

MINORS DNI

!-Potential Trigger Warnings-!

Severe Delusions, Kidnapping, Broken Hearts, Forced Marriage, Imaginary Infidelity, Charlotte Family being the Charlotte Family, Pregnancy

!-Potential Trigger Warnings-!

MINORS DNI

So with Katakuri then I can imagine that he probably decided to change things up a little and pick up your books during his Merienda to read something while he was eating his doughnuts as the cover looked interesting enough

A Food Themed Pirate based upon Sweet Treats to the Left and a Food Themed Marine based upon Healthy Treats to the Right as a more human looking figure with their back towards the camera stared at both as they both offered hands to the human

As he read, he was intrigued by the story and found the mutual pining to be cute and words cannot describe the amount of happiness that he felt when it was revealed that the pirate had an affinity for donuts

He only ever read the story during his Merienda and could easily put it down but after a while, he found himself having more and more trouble pulling himself away from it as he wanted to see what would happen next and if the main character would get with the Sweet Pirate or the Vegetable Marine

Eventually though he would force himself to put the book down and get back to doing whatever it is that he has to do although he is looking forward to the next time that he reads it

By the time that he gets his hands on the last book, he is near completely immersed in this story as he’s been imagining the sweet pirate with an appearance very similar to his own complete with scarf and tattoos

You know when your brain looks at words too quickly and you swear that there used to be a different word there or another word? That’s what’s happening with him to an extent but his is moreso based on delusion as he’s making up entire new sentences in the book like a line could be “Alamode stepped out onto the deck with the sun hitting his head perfectly, he stared at their captive and their lovely hair” and Katakuri will read it as “Katakuri adjusted his scarf as he stepped out onto the deck with the sun hitting his head perfectly, he stared down at their captive and their lovely form”

Yeah, he’s got it bad to say the least... None of his siblings know that though... I mean, maybe Brulee does...? But that is besides the point!

The point is imagine this man’s shock when it turns out that the main character rejected the pirate love interest for the Marine love interest... He can’t believe it and you can practically hear this man’s heart snap as his face shadows over...

This has to be a lie, this isn’t right... This isn’t true but as he flips through the pages, he finds the epilogue and there’s no sign of the pirate love interest anymore...

He’s heartbroken as he stares at the picture of the author on the final page, your smiling face somewhat mocking him as you wave at the camera and bid your readers a happy day and announce that the story has ended and you won’t write anymore...

He stares at the picture of you for a good while and he sees you dressed exactly like how he envisioned the main character, long flowing shirt with a thin blue ribbon around the collar and flaring out pants of the same color with a blue ribbon around the ankles...

So this is it? The main character just leaves him for the Marine when he was clearly the better option? He could keep the main character safe, he could keep you safe and make you happier than that bastard Marine ever could...

And if you couldn’t see it? Well... He just has to show you...

Convincing his mother that you’re the one for him is an easy task especially when he tells her that you’ve been unfairly stolen away from him by Marines when you’re the only person that he could ever bring himself to ever love and give her grandchildren with

Cue LinLin demanding your name as fueled by the determination to get grandchildren and not just grandchildren but powerful ones at that, she tells Katakuri that you will be found and returned to him as if you’re some kind of object that was lost

Finding you won’t take long, it’ll take longer if you wrote under an alias or know that they’re coming but trust me... You will be found one way or another and they know it won’t take long

The family is already preparing for a wedding after all, they are preparing everything from the cake to the decor to nearly everything except the dress as no one has your measurements and the book and picture of you wasn’t clear enough for Katakuri to give an educated guess not that a guess from a book would be all that clear

If you’re stalked at all then it doesn’t last long as the stalking only lasts until they can figure out exactly where you are and once they’ve narrowed it down, Katakuri is going to be on his way

They show up at your door with a collar to keep you from running off along with plans to absolutely murder your partner if you have one as Katakuri is also convinced that the Marine Love Interest is someone to, they take your things and load them up so they can be moved to your new home with Katakuri

If you weren’t home when they initially showed up then you are in for one hell of a surprise when you get home, don’t try to run though as Katakuri has noticed you before you even noticed the giant tattoo’d man outside

So you’re captured and hauled off to Whole Cake Island, your measurements taken either as soon as you get there or on your first day on the boat which depends on where you live or rather lived

Your dress is made with little input from you as come on, do you really think that you’ll be cohesive enough to give input on a dress after you just now found out that you’re going to be married to a man that you’ve never met and who looks like he could stop a bullet train just by frowning at it?

It’s better to leave all hope for escape at the door as there’s not even the slightest chance that you could run as not only would Katakuri catch you, there’s the collar around your neck and believe me if this is after the Whole Cake Island Arc then they are without a doubt keeping you on a practically non-existent leash

Don’t be too scared though as your soon to be husband is a good partner though, he listens to everything you say and fulfills all your requests as long as they’re within reason but try not to bring up the Marines as he’ll get rather upset at the fact that you almost left him for one

When your wedding day comes, you’re put into your dress and taken to the place where you and him are to be married... All of his siblings are here, every last one and even Big Mom herself is here and you swear that you can feel her gaze on you like she’s daring you to make a move and daring you to even show the slightest hint of thinking about escape

You already tried to leave her son once and for a Marine no less, she’s not letting it happen again

Katakuri is asked if he takes you as his lawfully wedded spouse? Of course, he says “I Do”

You’re asked if you take him as your lawfully wedded husband? You hesitate for only a moment before you can feel the irritation in the air from the guests, you internally wonder if you should see if you can fake a faint to get out of this like pretend that you haven’t drank water or it’s very hot or your dress is cutting off all circulation to your brain

It’s no use though and after your soon to be husband clears his throat, you force yourself to give and say the words “I Do”

You’re bound to him forever now and your wedding night is imminent, I’d suggest trying your best to steel yourself and build up enough pain tolerance to avoid being split in half but also don’t worry about potentially drowning as lord knows that it’s all going to go inside of you

And if you want to continue writing stories? That’s fine by your husband, he doesn’t mind if you want to write he can imagine you sitting by him during his Merienda as he chomps on his donuts while you write your latest story

He just has three conditions...

The first? All of your stories need to be checked thoroughly for any signs of asking to be “rescued” from your loving marriage to him

The second? If you write anymore love stories then the pirate or the character that Katakuri has managed to identify with has to win

The third?

You can write all you want and for as long as you want but only once you’re good and pregnant with your first child...

#yandere #yandere male #yandere katakuri #pages au #yandere one piece #minors dni #the rain talks back #reader insert #y/n

[vidyagamereference]

I kinda have this headcanon that pact marks give more than just some demonic control switch to the pact havers

Like, the demons take on some minor habits you have and you take on some of theirs too but also you get things like increased sense of smell, or a sharply barbed tongue (like a cats), or sharpened teeth.

Nothing like full on tail and horns. But they all get eyes that do that thing that cats eyes do where they reflect light really well and are really good at seeing in the dark and they age slower proportionate to the amount of pacts they have

(hence why Solomon 100+ pact man doesn't fucking age)

Like for instance

Lucifer:

For a pact with lucifer you suddenly take a lot of pride in your work. Whatever you're setting your mind to, it matters that you do it right. You enjoy bitter tastes, and your eyes have a tendency to be redder the longer you are awake. The weirdest part is it doesnt even start with the whites. Its the iris. If you've stayed up a little later than usual, it's nothing major, hardly even noticeable. If you've been up for 3 straight days, your eyes are the same color as his and the color is going to start bleeding to the whites soon. Your teeth sharpen slightly at the incisors and your healing abilities become amazing. So good that any scars you may have are gone within a week of the pact. Hope nobody notices.

Mammon:

On a pact with mammon, you become extra fidgety around things you want. The pull of it makes your fingers light, and suddenly, if you didn't before, you now have the muscle memory of how to pickpocket. Better have some legendary Impulse control. You find yourself craving seeds and nuts more, enjoying the crunch of them and they make a good healthy snack. Corvids follow you, bringing you things you couldn't possibly have told them you wanted but you definitely did want. You can move slightly too fast for human beings to accept as natural, it's directly in the uncanny Valley. Luckily it takes a lot of stamina up so you don't do it often.

Leviathan:

For Levi, you grow gills on your ribs and a few minor aquatic adaptations. It's a painful process that takes days of feeling like your lungs are being torn and your sides are being split open. Because they are. But afterwards you can dive deep with no consequences and breathe underwater. Your toes are also webbed now, for better swimming. You love the taste of raw fish, even if you didn't before it's one of your favorites now. Be careful of spending too much time in the water, your skin is still human and if it wrinkles too much it might slough off... and if it does there may be scales beneath.

Satan:

When you make a pact with Satan, you are shocked when almost nothing happens. You run a little warmer, any aversions to cats are gone, and you get irritated more quickly sure but that seems to be it.

Until your teeth start falling out. They are quickly replaced by much sharper ones, perfect for cutting flesh. Your lips sit strange and now you're worried about these new desires that flare up only when you're angry. Meat. Fresh. Raw. It's not about eating, it's a hunger for violence and the taste of copper on your tongue. Better keep that in check.

To be continued if i feel like it. Tell me if youre interested :]

#obey me imagine #obey me levi #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan

[duskwood-by-daylight]

Why Pity When You Can Party

Summary: You've finally had enough of everyone and their shit after movie night. This is mostly a poorly written vent.

Lewie x f!MC

Warnings: cursing, not super detailed oral (f receiving), kissing, lots of well placed anger, kinda nsfw

Word count: 1,240ish

A/N: As always, 18+, minors DNI. Don't steal or copy or whatever. Feedback always appreciated. If I forgot a vital tag, let me know.

You're curled on the daybeds, grateful to have a moment away from the loud arguments in the villa. Frankly, you couldn't give a shit less about what's happening between any of them but if you have to hear Grace whine her way through another double standard or Amelia turn another one of her fuck ups into a pity party, or God forbid Marshall say another snide comment about Oz, you might actually vomit on the astroturf.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

"No, Elliot. You're mistaken. It isn't me. But if I was me, I'd tell you to go fuck off someplace."

"Oh." He sounds dismayed, but Elliot is not one to give up. "I just wanted to check up on you. No one had seen you since the end of Movie Night. Are you sure you don't want company?"

Instead of immediately answering, you close your eyes, hiding resolutely beneath the sheet. "...fuck off someplace, El."

There's still chaotic sounds from inside and you wonder if they'll tear the building apart. More footsteps approach but you don't bother to move, neither wanting to see nor hear whoever it is.

"Y/N? Can we talk? It's about Ozzy. What he did really hurt me." Grace. Fucking Grace and her nonsense. On day one, she seemed so pretty and fun, but ever since has proven herself to be more toxic than the pool water at Casa.

Sitting up, you let the cover fall away and glare at her when she steps closer. "Don't sit. Don't stay. Go away. I don't want to talk to you."

"You're being rude."

Anger flares up in your mind and you grab the first thing you can, your water bottle, and fling it in her direction. "Are you deaf? I said go away!"

After a few minutes of peaceful solitude, Lewie comes down and sits on the edge of the bed. "Hey babe. It's just me." He waits half a breath before stretching out beside you and throwing his arm around where he guesses your middle is.

"Lewie, I'm out here so I can be alone."

"I know. I'm out here, being alone with you…and keeping everyone else away."

You smile a little, pressing against him, "Thank you."

"Do you want to talk or do you want quiet?"

You find his hand and squeeze, grateful for his solid warmth beside you. He takes your silence as an answer and cuddles you close. "I'm just so annoyed with everyone, Lew. I'm not having fun today. Movie Night was a drama and that was fine. It's just… everyone is being so stupid. I'm upset with everyone. I hated being at Casa. They made me go to the Hideaway with some pushy idiot and nobody even bothered to ask me. I keep getting dragged into drama that I don't give a shit about… I'm tired and I don't want to talk to any of them."

He kisses the top of your head, "I could tell something was off with you. Want me to tell everyone to fuck off?"

"Just be with me. You're the only person in here who doesn't make me want to rip my hair out."

"Lucky for me. I happen to like your hair." You shift onto your back, letting him join you beneath the sheet. "I like all of you, really."

"Do you now? Mm, how much?"

"Well, let's see." He traces the tip of his finger down your nose and over your lips before kissing you gently. You close your eyes and relax into his touch, his lips trailing down your neck, over your chest, nipping at your stomach, until he stops at the edge of your shorts. "Enough to eat you out on the daybeds in front of everyone if you want."

"Lew!" You hiss in warning, opening your eyes to gaze down at him.

He's grinning up at you, blue eyes wide and innocent, before he starts nuzzling along your leg and you can't help but giggle when his stubble tickles your thigh. "What do you say, babe? You can keep watch, I'll do all the work. Let me kiss it better."

Watching him softly brush his lips against you, whispering pleas into your skin pushes you over the edge and you nod. He eagerly unties your shorts and you glance around the empty yard before letting your eyes fall closed.

How long has it been since you've had this much alone time with Lewie? Too damned long. Then his mouth is on you, strong hands shifting your legs apart and urging one over his shoulder as you press back into the pillows. You arch your hips toward him but still when you hear dishes clatter in the outdoor kitchen. Roberto is walking back inside just as Lewie lays his arm across your waist to pin you in place, letting you know he has absolutely no plans of stopping until he's done.

It isn't long before your orgasm hits, your heel digging into Lewie's back while waves of bliss envelop you. He works you through it, his fingers and tongue slowing when your breathing settles. Everything feels too good and you smile at Lewie when he slides up to join you, looking very proud of his work.

"I needed that as much as you did, baby. Damn, I've missed you."

"And we're not done yet. Come here." Urging him into a needy kiss, you guide him to lay on top of you, already feeling his hardness brush your leg. "I'm gonna take care of you, too." His large hands cup your cheeks, deeply kissing you until a distinct sound, heels clacking on concrete.

Amelia interrupts, "So sorry, but I can pull you for a chat? It'll just be a second."

You break the kiss just long enough to glare at her, "No, but you can go fuck yourself. So try that and then get back to me. Or don't."

"Y/N!"

Rage washes over you. Finally, you've had enough. Interrupting your alone time with Lewie is the final straw. Giving him another kiss, you tap his hip. "Lewie, darling, give me just a second. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

The walk to the fire pit across the lawn might be the shortest you've ever had. Amelia opens her mouth to speak, but you light into her first. "I don't care what you have to say. Just listen. I don't care about Zeph anymore. I don't care about your new snakey crush on whatever boy you perceive as the most dramatic choice. You're so goddamn nosy! Not everything in this place is about you. You're upset that Marshall or Roberto or whoever was a snakey piece of trash? Newsflash, your type is snakey pieces of trash! Embrace your garbage. Not everyone deserves a good guy. Maybe your taste in men is from the universe giving you what you deserve."

Amelia's mouth is open in shock, but she still isn't interrupting, so you continue. "Amelia, unless you're pulling me aside for a chat that directly involves ME in immediate danger of being murdered, I don't want to hear it. We're stuck together 24/7 in here, you can find a better fucking time to talk to me than when I'm literally under my man! Now get the hell away from me! Go find someone else to feel sorry for you. Try Grace. She loves pity."

"Y/N."

"No. Don't want to hear your noise. I'm going to fuck Lewie on the daybeds. I'll see you tomorrow."

#litg double trouble #litg s6 #litg lewie #lewie x mc #litg ficlet

[devil-doll13]

(Don’t Fear) The Reaper

Ciarán x Gn!Reader.

Tw: Gender neutral reader, also reader gets kidnapped by Ciarán so yeah, somewhat Dark Romance, Stockholm Syndrome as the reader is imprisoned/isolated, Angst, reader is very autistic coded idk it just happened the fic was doing whatever it wanted, also you die at the end… Sorry. This is a bit of new territory for me so please tell me if anything else needs to be tagged!

I’m out of the writing block gulag and I present to you, this… Fic. It sort of ended up being almost fairytale-like in nature because that just made sense for this character. Hope you enjoy.

Dividers by firefly-graphics

Spring

One day, you must run away. Far away, into the wilderness of your country, and leave behind you the pains of the day.

The first sprouts of the year have perked up above the soil, but they do not bloom yet. The grip of winter still holds life captive, a thick white mist blanketing the ground in an eerie shroud. The stone walls of your haunting ground jut out of the land like the teeth of felled giants, grey and silent. Then down yonder, the slabs of the stone circle stand guard like sentinels, murky in the fog. What they protect, who can say; or perhaps it is something you are protected from, as the elders in your village have told you.

You wander over the moorlands and clamber over streams and bogs, well loved and well travelled. From time to time you sit and rest upon a rock protrusion, humming some innsong, feeling some tension leave you, watching the day go by and the birds fly free, unbothered by your quiet presence. Later you think you had better make for home again - though it may be unwelcoming to you - lest you find yourself wandering the countryside ‘till the wee hours of the morning, led astray by visions in the mist.

And strange visions you indeed have.

The air is thick with some unknown energy. Alive, it seems, with the buzz of a hundred thousand watchers. All peering at you, the foolish little mortal, who has long frequented their mushroom doors and ancient tree carvings and hidden glades glittering in the sunlight. You, so unaware, so painfully human. You have known them for almost as long, though you remain but a trifling amusement in their eyes. Only one - one as alone and bereft as you - sees you truly and wishes to know you truly, more than any fellow villager would care to know you.

Then, he appears before you; or reveals himself.

His shadow falls onto you in the fading light of the setting sun, and you can do little but stumble into the bogwater and scream before this dusky knight and his dark mare are upon you. He reaches out and captures you in his arms, deathly cold like you imagine the inside of a coffin. You struggle in vain, but his grip is a vice, cutting and metal, hard. All goes dark as you imagine you have been killed; been taken by the reaper, perhaps God has come to destroy you for your wickedness, your sins and abnormalities.

It remains dark when you awake. But no longer are you held so tightly; you lay on soft, blanketing bedsheets. Adrenaline jolts you upright and you cry out in panic at the ghastly sight of your kidnapper, the icy fire hissing and flaring at the base of his neck, the only dim source of light to illuminate the room you’re in. He towers over you, imposing, stealing your breath from your chest.

“Please, please don’t hurt me…” You choke out.

The flames hiss louder, sharper, which only makes you more frightened, but he makes no moves to harm you. He gazes over your trembling form, seeming almost nervous in the way his gauntlets fumble. Still, you grimace away when he steps closer and reveals a small handkerchief, glowing. But it is not the fabric, you realise, but what is held inside.

Golden apples, their scent so sweet and intoxicating, and water from the clearest spring. He nudges you, though not forcefully, to eat and drink; still you have no choice, you think. As you bite into the fruit, you feel it numb your senses, and soon you give in to tiredness and fear and go to sleep, hoping and praying you had been dreaming; imagination wild and disturbed.

But no Springtime dream is this; you awake there, but mercifully warm. The soft bedsheets are still draped over you, lovingly arranged. A single source of light sits atop a podium, carved in a strange, circular fashion unlike any mortal design you have known. You sit up and see it is a glass bauble full of fireflies.

Your captor is nowhere to be seen. For a while you languish in your foreign bed and feel no desire to leave it, but fear of his return spurs you to leap from it, still dressed in your travel clothes. There must be some way out of this shadowy place, you reason, and with a feverish sweat and pounding heart you seize the flickering glass ball and try to navigate your way out of your room.

You cannot tell how much time has passed since you were taken here, for you are surrounded by grim, rocky walls overtaken by black ivy. It smells of damp moss and ancient dust, and the dark, cavernous space echoes your unsure footsteps back at you. Soon, you begin to suspect you must be trapped in the bowels of some dungeon, imprisoned here. Your heart, so heavy in your ribcage, sinks ever further into the abyss as you realise there seems to be no clear path back to your home. It is a labyrinth, your route only discernible by the uncanny murals etched across the stone.

You then feel a sudden itch urging you to turn back, to seek out the safety of your new cage, and the foreboding metallic steps sounding from the end of the gloomy hallway hastens your flight away from here. You hide underneath your sheets, as if a child again, and cry bitterly. You are not brave enough to face your kidnapper, nor are you willing to endure whatever tortures he will subject you to. You, so young, so full of life before, can see no way out of this all-consuming darkness.

Summer

After some further attempts, your hope fades into apathy, and you give yourself to grim resignation. You sleep as much as you are able, and dream of better things, of your village. Burrowing into your sheets like a worm into soil, feeling twice as wretched. You wonder if you are missed - or at least if your work is missed - or if your absence is noticed at all. For years you longed to disappear off to somewhere quiet and peaceful, but not like this.

Now you regret those wishes; your most desperate plea to God is that he spirit you back home.

Your captor visits to give you food and drink, though you have lost all appetite and eye the apples warily, remembering your sleepy daze when you ate them last. More unnervingly, he lingers in your room and watches you, sitting or standing. He does nothing to you, so eventually you start to feel a little safer in his presence, but no less anxious. Sometimes you try to speak to him, to reason with him:

“Who are you?”

“What do you want from me?”

“Why won’t you let me go?”

All met with silence. He has no head; you suppose he cannot speak. You are certain now that he is not human, and though his appearance is that of a knight, you see no heraldry to mark his allegiance to any kingdom. You begin to wonder if he is some vengeful or sorrowful spirit, accompanying you in death; or if he is the Devil, subjecting you to your own personal tormenting Hell. Your nervous thoughts quickly spiral out of control, and you toss and turn without rest.

Soon you tire of laying in bed, of the neverending sleep, and with your little light source venture out again into the labyrinth. This time you take a thread from your clothing - as worn and frayed as they now are - and use it to remember your way. You still fear what may happen should your captor meet you outside of your room; though he has been docile and calm for all the time you have known him, you know the nature of such otherworldly beings can be fickle.

Perhaps now the overworld has been cast in balmy Summer, the April showers past and gentle breezes blowing fresh, warm air into the fields, crops swaying. For an unknown amount of time, you have been stuck here, and seen no face but your own, reflected back at you in the Spring water. As far as you can tell, the only other being in this place that is not your captor is his beautiful black mare. She resides sometimes in a sort of rock stable, which you come across during one of your tentative trips outside your room.

In life, you felt an affinity for animals, preferred over other people, demanding and loud. She is rarely without her rider, but in those odd moments you creep into her living space and offer her your gilded apple. You braid her black mane and comb your fingers through it, all the while wishing you were back home and with the steady workhorses. She is like none other that you have seen in your memory, strong and dark and with wise, inquisitive eyes.

One of these times, you happen upon your captor doing the same. It is far too startling to see him dote on the mare as you do, with gentleness you have never seen him display before; or never cared to notice. You leave quickly and try to dispel the memory of it, so little does it fit your fearful perception of him.

Now you begin to study the mysterious murals by light of the bauble full of fireflies; simply for lack of things to do. They tell strange tales, but they all seem interconnected somehow, and though they resemble no Christian creation, you can still recognise their unearthly beauty. Over many trips outside to decipher them, you piece together the story of a knight who, seemingly having committed a great sin, is banished from the fair courts and made an exile, cast into the dark realm you now live in…

Only too late do you recognise the knight as your captor. It hits you unpleasantly, for you spent some time filled with pity and empathising with his plight. Both of you, prisoners of this place, and now he sees fit to chain you here in fetters alongside him.

Of course. No one, human or not, would wish to live in this awful place. Not willingly. An eternity of being alone, surrounded by this gloom and reminders of your own failures, would be unbearable. You understand this so keenly, for weren’t you alone before? Loneliness, A frighteningly human sentiment to associate with that terrifying figure. How could you sympathise with him, your jailer? You remember again the gentleness with which he tended to his horse, and feel disgusted, confused.

Your stomach ties itself into knots as you stand there, thinking and feeling too much. But then, you hear again the sound of footsteps approaching, and in panic you almost drop the bauble filled with fireflies. It is too close. You sprint back along your path of string, and there you see him towering over you, and flee fearfully back to your room to drag the great door shut and prevent his entry. Far too soon, you hear a great weight thrown against it that reverberates in your very bones. You recall that sword that lies by his hip, lethal-

“I’m not letting you in!” You cry, shivering.

He stops. There is quiet from behind the door.

For a moment, you feel an icy wave of terror wash over you. Have you overstepped? Will he force his way in now, and kill you for your insolence?

“I-I’m not letting you in until you agree to let me go.”

You swallow thickly, holding fast to your momentary courage; if you have dug your own grave by now, you may as well lie in it.

Silence. Then, you flinch as you hear the metallic step of his sharp sabatons, scraping against the floor. They become more distant and faint, until you are certain that he is walking away, away into the labyrinth to do God knows what, only you hope he does not come back to punish you.

You cannot sleep after that. Fear and hunger gnaw at your senses; you fed your apple to your captor’s mare. Miserable, you try distracting yourself by humming that innsong, but you find you have forgotten the tune. Little by little, your past life is slipping away from you.

When he opens the great door, you cannot stop him. But this time, he does not pass the threshold. You watch as this massive armoured being does the most unexpected thing: he kneels before you. His flames burn brightly, as deep a blue as Summer’s night sky. In his sharp, unsure gauntlets he offers up a bundle of fabric you quickly recognise as a collection of your old clothes, and between his fingers he clutches a beautiful red poppy.

This… You stare at him, unable to think or speak.

He does not move, only remains bended at the knee, awaiting your response. Your mouth is dry. Even you recognise this as a romantic gesture. Your captor is trying to court you, his own prisoner. You want to laugh at him for his absurdity; laugh madly.

“…I’m not taking it unless you let me out.” You say.

But he does not agree; or he cannot communicate without action. Still you know that your attempt to escape is futile, and that refusing the gift would ultimately be pointless. Slowly, hands shaking, you receive the gift. The fire on his neck hisses, flaring so suddenly it would’ve made you jump in the past. Now, you expect it. As a show of defiance, you still shut the great door on him, and he makes no effort to stop you. Soon, you hear his footsteps again, fading into the dark unknown.

You look down at your hands full of items. The poppy almost appears as if it will wilt in your fingers; in this place without life or light. You know now that it is Summer, and some sense of peace and calm washes over you. Now, with your old clothing, with a reminder of the overworld, you feel at strange ease.

Autumn

By now, you have adapted well to your new routine.

There is no sun, and the only way you can measure days or weeks is by the frequency of his visits. Each time he returns, he kneels upon his knee to meet you, offering a poppy. Each time you reject him, only you ask if he will let you go, or let you see your home again. He refuses, then leaves to resume his duty. Thus begins and ends the cycle of day and night.

Your suitor is not forceful, but he is persistent. He brings you other things, too, to make your cage more homely. It is the most comfortable and warm place you know in this underneath, catered to your fragile human body. You feel betrayed by your own emotions, as you find yourself touched by his consideration. You know you are a prisoner here, but somehow you see him in new light; with no others to talk to, you have started to confide in him despite your risky position here. He stays close and endures your occasional insults, and now you suspect he delights in your better mood, or at least in the idea that you have accepted your fate.

You speak, he listens, and watches you. Before, no one would ever do this, and dismiss you. All your flights of fancy, no matter how strange, are humoured in a way you never expected. When you express a desire to see something that will grow still in this barren place, your idea for a mushroom farm is fulfilled. It gives you something to do and look at; you adopt hobbies and pastimes you never considered before, too burdened with your work.

Still, you refuse his love. But as time passes, you feel less discomforted by his presence. His aura is calm and steady, reassuring like something ancient that has been in existence forever, like the stone circle you remember from your home. Then, as you feel more secure in your standing here, you leave your room again to explore the labyrinth.

Now when you meet him here, you greet him. You are no longer afraid, for you have learned with time that he detests to harm you. He starts, as if he is just as surprised as you yourself are. Together you sit in the dark, two prisoners at peace. When you feel tired, he extends a hand to you, offering to pull you up. You hesitate for a moment, remembering how he snatched you before. Still, you take it, and though it is cold it is not discomforting like you expect, but solid and cool. Without thinking, you hook your arm into his, though he is tall and dwarfs you. He leads you happily back to your room so you may sleep, and when you watch him leave you find yourself wondering what his hand, underneath the gauntlet, truly feels like.

After that, the connection between the two of you begins to strengthen. The barrier that kept you from touching now has seemingly been broken, and when you walk to and from your chamber it is together, arms linked as if you were both on a leisurely stroll. When you pretend that it is, it makes things simpler, so that you can forget the gloom that surrounds you. Better shackled as one than divided and alone, left to rot in this desolate place.

So your affection for him is not only of the heart, but rational. You make the most of your shared imprisonment. Perhaps you forget that it was he that dragged you down here, but as he caresses your face so lovingly, it no longer seems to matter. You learn then that his embrace is strong and enveloping, and see ashen skin beneath the armour which you kiss, falling further into the abyss, losing sight of all that you had sworn to fight against. He is, to you, as devoted and passionate a lover as any human man could be, and far greater still. You no longer have the willpower to deny your heart’s desires.

Perhaps now the outside world had begun to wither and die, as the seasons change and the leaves begin to fall, rotting into the dirt. You, a trifling mortal, should see fit to be buried with them; but your fate has been altered, changed now. Loving so utterly has transformed your heart and mind, your soul, and you still eat of the sweetest fruits and drink from the clearest spring, boons earned by your lover’s exploits. You now wish to become like him, without end. To become deathless, and forget, forget it all…

Winter

Still, you recall the sweetness of spring, the fruits of summer, the colours fading in the harvest, giving way to cold and deathlike winter.

This time, when you ask him once again to bring you back to your mortal world, it is not to leave him, but to experience these joys once more before you must let them go forever. To be his forever. He agrees, though reluctantly, as if you are terribly fragile and sick; though you feel so feverishly cheerful, as if you have gained new life and new being now. Only he bids you to hold on tightly to him, gripping your hands firmly in his as he holds the reins. You obey and bury your face into his travel cloak, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. The atmosphere shifts, the air is fresh, and you breathe in deeply, crisp and serene.

Your eyes, accustomed to darkness now, sting painfully in the light. Even though the skies are grey, sombre clouds brooding over the land, you see life once again for the first time in an aeon. Dying now - or already dead - to be reborn in the next life.

“I want to see my-my old home...” Your teeth chatter. He squeezes your hands that tremble against his chestplate. It is cold; not like he is cold, but from the bitter chill of winter. Under your shared shroud of fog, the grass is frozen, you see all around you the pale glaze of white. All is still, and the howling gale quiets in your lover’s commanding presence, pacified.

Together you ride across the moor, concealed by shimmering mist. Though you still recognise your country, you soon realise it has been changed. Then, with horror, that your old house has long been gone. All is replace now with new, alien structures and colours and brightness, a future so grotesque you are repulsed by it. You regret coming here now.

How many years have passed? The familiarity, the comfort you expected to find here, is gone. All that is left now is urgency and confusion and noise. Time has abandoned you as readily as anyone you have ever known; except for him, your lover. You no longer belong here, but to him, to his world.

You look at your hands. What is your essence, now not human, but also not like him? Now you feel that you wish to turn back, return to the dark and quiet of the underneath. But your folly leaves you untethered to your lover’s cloak, and in that moment his mare draws up and you slip off her back.

Then, you fall from the horse. You hit the ground.

As your body touches bitter soil and earth, you revert entirely; for you always have belonged to the overworld, a mortal fool. Your hands soon appear gnarled and withered, your hair overgrown and grey, as you age into a feeble elder, returning once again to the dying land. The last thing you see is that black gauntlet reaching out for you, as longingly as it did on that Spring day. But Death takes you first and steals you away, a cruel twist of fate that ends your story, as pitiful and as unfortunate as it had began.

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @soupbabe, @bluecoolr, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @flower-crowned-lady, @solmints-messyocdiary, @probably-a-plant-thing, @myers-meadow)

#the seasons idea came from the whole Hades and Persephone myth #the ending was inspired by Irish myths/folklore though #Ciarán #🗡️ #Ciarán x reader #oc x reader #slasher oc #horror oc #dullahan #fic #my writing

[write-r-die]

Man's World - Part 6

I finally figured out what I want to do with this story! Get ready for a real plot to form!

masterlist

It was the middle of the night for us when the flare happened.

People who were outside at the time were the ones who died right away or got an aggressive case of sun sickness. People indoors got slightly less, people on the lower floors of buildings got less, etc. 

I was in my parents’ basement when the flare happened. The accompanying earthquakes jammed the door to the stairs shut. It was a few hours before I finally made it out. 

In the end it was sheer dumb luck that I survived, that I didn’t get sick. 

Evolution, survival of the fittest – that didn’t factor into it at all when the world ended. Just your location.

I’m sure down the road I’ll have some sort of horrific health problems, that everybody will because you don’t encounter that much radiation without some of it infecting you. But I’m still alive and healthy for now. 

I don’t know about the rest of the world, though. Nobody does, since all the technology was simultaneously fried and there’s no real way to get across an ocean anymore. 

Usually I try not to think about it, but the soldiers accompanying us are talking about their travels while in the military. Two of them were stationed in Japan for a while; a third was stationed in South Korea. It was the middle of a sunny day in those countries when the flare hit.

One of the men from Japan shakes his head, smiling sadly. “I’ll never have sushi like that again,” he says mournfully.

The other frowns. “It’s a fuckin’ shame.”

We’re mostly on bikes or horses. A pickup truck accompanies us to carry back anything of value we find, but August tries to minimize car usage whenever possible, so we have a single truck with us to lug back whatever valuables we find. 

We all pull off to the side when we reach the neighborhood. A bunch of identical little houses on cul-de-sacs that were once full of yuppie commuters. Now it’s empty.

“Each of you will have one guard,” August says to the six of Miss Ally’s people. “You will not leave their side. You will wait for them to clear each and every room before you enter it.” He pairs them up and sends them all in different directions, telling them to return to this exact spot in two hours.

They all head off. Only August and I are left.

“I don’t have a guard,” I say once everyone is out of earshot.

August gives me a shit-eating grin. He’s my guard. Of course. He motions me toward a one-story home with a detached garage. “Come along. We’ve got things to do.”

The first house we enter has no front door. The windows have all been blown out, but the treadmill and stationary bike in the living room appear to be going strong.

August picks up a discarded magazine from the floor. “Health nuts,” he says sadly. “Not known for having full pantries.”

“You’d be surprised,” I say.

He cocks a dark eyebrow. “Oh?” He gestures toward the kitchen. “In that case, take the lead. I insist.”

Health nuts can be similar to squirrels in terms of stashing food for a rainy day. We don’t bother opening the freezer or fridge because whatever was in there was either eaten by now or has turned it into a mold jungle.

August and I work in silence, scouring the kitchen for anything that might be of use. August immediately finds a bottle of wine, which he looks over, then seems to contemplate deeply. He puts it in his pack and I have a feeling he’ll be adding it to his private collection.

I pause in the middle of ransacking a drawer full of oatmeal packets. “You really couldn’t wait until I was out of the tent to fuck somebody else?”

August doesn’t miss a beat. “I could and I did. Andie came in unannounced and uninvited,” he says, pulling out a plastic jar of protein powder. “You woke up before things got too interesting.”

I square my shoulders and return to sorting. “I take it that sort of thing happens a lot.”

“Often enough.” He shuts the cupboard and sticks the powder into his backpack. “Find anything?”

“Oatmeal packets mostly. And this.” I hold up the plastic jar of trail mix. “It’s mostly empty but –”

“We’ll bring it. We need everything.”

His choice of words gives me pause. Need, he said. But I’ve seen the supply trucks myself and we seem to have plenty of almost everything. Nobody in the camp goes hungry or lacks in basic necessities, at least not as far as I know. But I’m also not part of the inner circle. 

The pantry upstairs boasts two value-sized bottles of shampoo and three bars of soap, plus about a thousand toothbrushes still in their packaging. “Jackpot.”

“I’m checking the bathroom. Start on the bedrooms when you’re done.” 

My bag is brimming with floss picks and antiperspirant. 

The nearest bedroom once belonged to a woman. I can tell by all the expensive - and now very expired - perfume and makeup.

“Do we need clothes?” I call over my shoulder. 

“Underwear and socks,” August calls back. 

 I head for the dresser. I don’t love the idea of wearing someone else’s panties even if their clean but I guess beggars can’t be choosers. 

There are plenty of socks, so I grab a bunch of those. As I reach back to access the underwear, my hand brushes against something else. 

I grab it and pull it out and see a familiar book cover. I used to have a copy on my Kindle, not a well-worn paperback like this. But it’s the same story. I want to squeal with delight. Of course that’s when August comes in. 

“Find anything good?” he asks, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb. 

I reflexively hide the book behind my back which is of course a dead giveaway. 

He raises a dark brow, a smirk growing on his incredible lips. “What’s that?” 

I don’t reply. I know he won’t believe anything I say until he sees it for himself. 

He crosses the room to stand in front of me and holds his hand. Reluctantly, I give the book over. He watches my face, reveling in the embarrassment for a moment before looking at the book in his hand. 

Slowly, his smirk widens. He flips to a dog eared page and begins to read and I want to die. 

“He gripped her wrists in one of his hands, pinning them against the wall above her head. With his other hand, he cupped her sex over her dress and squeezed – not enough for it to be painful, but enough to make it clear that he was in charge, and this would go exactly the way he wanted it.”

I hate him. I hate the way he reads it in that deep sexy voice and I hate the way he smirks up at me and the fact that it’s getting me going and I hate him. 

He’s smirking again when he looks up at me. “Is this the sort of thing you’d like?”

“It’s just a smutty book.” I try to sound dismissive. 

He turns back to the book. “Her pussy throbbed under his touch —“

“Jesus Christ, stop that!” I snatch the book out of his hands and I’m way too turned on just by the fact that he said pussy and he’s still smiling and I hate him. “You’re acting like a teenager, trying to embarrass me.”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” he says. “I’m trying to turn you on.” He takes a step toward me; I take a step back. “Get you wet.” Another step and I’m pressed against the dresser as he looms over me. “I have a feeling it’s working.”

I hate him. 

And then he’s leaning in slowly, lowering his head as I turn mine up. 

And his mouth is on my mouth, his fingers digging into my hips and I can’t breathe around the lump in my throat, the ache between my legs, that God-awful feeling in my gut that I will regret this.

But it doesn’t matter right now. Because right now all I can think about is the man pressed against me, the way his fingers are tugging at my hair enough to cause the slightest bit of pain that somehow makes me want him more. 

My right mind isn’t in control – I know that – this sort of aching need is primal and weird and frankly a little scary because I’ve never felt this out of control before. 

And then a shout comes from outside. “Boss!”

August pulls back enough to shout, “What?” My mouth is slightly open because I can’t get enough air through just my nose and all the while, August’s eyes are on that mouth, and I know he’s imagining everything that he could do to it and that it could do to him. 

“We found some people in one of the houses. They’ve got Draven’s mark.”

That snaps us both out of our lusty haze. 

Michael Draven is one of the six most powerful warlords roaming the continent. Besides August, he’s probably the scariest. Maybe even scarier, since August at least takes people in and protects them. From what I know, Draven only takes warriors and prostitutes into his group, and they’re not necessarily warriors and prostitutes by choice. 

August’s soldiers have rounded up a man and a woman – a boy and a woman, more accurately. The woman is around my age but seems much older, and she glares at us hatefully enough to make me shudder.

They each have a tattoo on their forearms that identify them as Draven’s people. Some of August’s people have similar tattoos to identify them, but not all. Bearing any warlord’s mark is a gamble because people are about as likely to attack you for your allegiances as they are to show consideration for it.

“We’re not his people anymore,” the boy says. “I cut the mark. See?” He points to a few still-healing cuts slashing through the crow tattoo that marks him as one of Draven’s. It’s how his followers got the nickname crows. The girl’s mark is pristine.

August takes the man’s wrist in his hand and angles his forearm to get a better look at it. The man winces at his touch.

August drops his wrist. “And why are you no longer his people?”

“He . . . wasn’t a good guy,” the boy says slowly.

“Warlords aren’t known for being good guys,” Miss Evaline – one of Miss Ally’s people on this outing – says. “Except for the Boss.” She sounds more than a little condescending. 

“I’m certainly not a good guy,” August says dismissively. He really isn’t and him saying so really shouldn't be hot but I still clench my thighs together. 

After weeks of ignoring him, of keeping my legs shut and my vagina as dry as the desert, he reads one teeny tiny snippet of a bullshit Kindle Unlimited-esque romantasy in front of me and here we are. 

“Give me details,” August says.

The two crows exchange a look. 

“I wasn’t asking.”

“There were rumors of something going down. A merger, a trade, I’m not sure exactly what,” the woman says.

“A trade with who?”

The boy swallows. “John the Revelator.”

John the Revelator, who earned his nickname back before the world ended through apocalyptic religious and political rhetoric, is pretty freaky, too. He was somehow elected to the House of Representatives a year or so before shit hit the fan, and when it did, he knew just how to play it. His followers, now called Thoroughbreds, were ready to flock to him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a muscle tick in August’s jaw. He keeps his eyes on the crows when he addresses his soldiers. “Tie them up. We’re taking them back with us.”

The boy’s eyes widen in panic. “We’ll tell you anything you want to know!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” August says. “Blindfold them, too.”

***

Our little mission has been cut short. Whatever information those two people have is worth more than anything we’ll find in these houses.

I go back into the house to grab my shit. I hurriedly stuff the book into my bag and bury it under a bunch of shit. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving this thing behind. 

“Still have that book?”

I jump at the sound of August’s voice; he neither notices nor cares. 

“Why?” I challenge. “Gonna make me put it in the library truck?”

“Of course not,” he says. “That book is yours.”

I quirk an eyebrow because I find that difficult to believe. “Really? You want me to keep it?”

“Really,” he agrees. “In fact, I insist.”

“Why?” He can’t possibly just want me to keep it out of the goodness of his heart.

His eyes travel down to my mouth and linger there before returning to mine. “Because I know you’re going to think about me every time you read it.”

Fuck. Why am I turned on when I know he has every intention of torturing those two crows if they don’t give him what he wants? 

He’ll torture the boy, at least. I heard a rumor that he doesn’t torture women – at least not physically – and I don’t know if that makes him a gentleman or a chauvinist. 

***

August Walker had an unfailing ability to keep himself in check.

He was especially grateful for it at times like these, when he was simultaneously interrogating prisoners and imagining Delilah Reid pleasuring herself as she thought of him.

How did she like to pleasure herself, he wondered? Was she the sort of woman to rub frantic circles around her swollen clit, desperate for release, or would she take the time to tease herself?

Perhaps she put fingers into her tight cunt. Two at a time, he guessed, and only up to the first knuckle. He was very good and guessing the little details that brought women pleasure.

When he had her, which he inevitably would, he would start with one finger. He’d penetrate her slowly and deeply and only give her enough time to catch her breath before plunging in and out, steadily increasing his pressure and pace. 

Thankfully, he stood with his back to the rest of the men in the tent, bent forward at the waist to mark the maps laid out on the tabletop. If anyone saw the impressive bulge in his pants, they assumed it was because he was in the middle of an interrogation, that his subjects; fear and his own power were what turned him on.

Not that a random, rude blue-collar twentysomething had him in knots – especially since that rude twentysomething wasn’t at the level of drop-dead gorgeous that was required for most men to withstand such high levels of bullshit.

“Where did you hear the rumors?” Sy asked the boy. He was in a wooden dining chair with arms, as was the woman. Neither of them were tied or taped down, though most of the soldiers in the room had rope or duct tape – a clear threat of what would happen should they cease cooperating.

“One of the other soldiers said he saw Draven meeting with a Thoroughbred at a stopover,” the boy said, using the nickname for John the Revelator’s followers. 

One of the other soldiers in the room produced a knife and started tossing it up into the air and catching it by the blade. The boy saw and started speaking faster.

“One of them should’ve killed the other but they didn’t. They passed things back and forth; I don’t know what.”

“There’s not enough food in Draven’s camp,” the woman said, her words stumbling over the boy’s. “It’s not sustainable. Draven would only trade if he absolutely had to.”

“Is that why you left, then?” August asked without turning towards the captives. “You were hungry?”

“I left cause all Draven has to trade is women,” the woman snaps. “I’m not gonna be a whore for a bunch of white supremacists.”

Sy turned to the boy. “And you left because?”

“Because he’s in love with her,” August said dismissively. He finally turned to look at his prisoners. Judging by the look on his face, the boy had never voiced his feelings. Judging by the look on hers, the woman was fully aware of this and chose to ignore it.

“You were a whore in Draven’s camp?” August said. The woman looked him up and down, eyes briefly catching on his groin, and nodded once. “Would you like to be a whore in mine?”

The woman’s eyes went back to the bulge in his pants.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” August said. “It’s not for you.”

Lilah was probably fucking herself right this second while the rest of the camp was sleeping, he thought. She was probably doing it under the covers on her shitty cot in her shitty tent with at least ten other people in there. 

Maybe some of them were awake. Maybe Lilah knew they were. Maybe she was too desperate to care.

“If I don’t want to be a whore?” the woman asked.

“Then I would hope you have something else of value to offer,” August said. “Otherwise, well . . .” He shrugged casually. “Take the night to think about it. Sy, put them somewhere secure for the night. I have other things I’d like to get done.”

[obsessedwithallthingsbookrelated]

Everybody hates you

Chapter 2-

Cassian all of a sudden gets a little protective

‘’I have loved you ever since I first set eyes on you,’’ Esker confessed. He stroked his thumb gently along her cheekbone, such adoration in his gaze. Dyaness leaned into her mates touch, refusing to break eye contact with him. Finally she thought, they could be together at long last.

Nesta shut her book with a happy sigh. She loved this part the most, when the couple got their happy ending. Despite what he thought, she did not read romance novels for the smut, although that was a bonus, she read them because at heart she was a hopeless romantic. She yearned for the type of love story she often read about. But that would never happen for her. She had accepted that.

He was waiting with a soft smile when she made it to the roof. She always tried to be a couple of minutes early. Not wanting to piss him off.

She kept her eyes on her feet.

‘’How are you feeling sweetheart? Think you’d be up for a little dagger practice today?’’

‘’Yes.’’ Nesta always said yes now a days. Whatever he wanted.

She could feel him tilting his head at her, a frown had started to form on his handsome face. They had been practicing balancing and stretching for weeks now. He had obviously been expecting her to say no when it came to daggers, to put up some sort of fight. But she no had fight left in her. Hadn’t he realised this by now?

‘’Rhysand is coming for lunch today, so you don’t have to help out at the library after training.’’ He attempted to smile at her but it was tense, he waited for the refusal to eat with them, waited for the insult against his high lord, his family. But she gave none, only stared blankly ahead and nodded to show that she understood her orders.

His smile was completely gone now. And she began to tremble. Nesta Archeron. Trembling. What a pathetic sight she had to become. But she was frightened. Didn’t want to upset the general or high lord because gods know what else they would think of to do to her.

Oh how she wished she had died in the war.

‘’Whatever you want Cassian.’’ She forced out, her eyes remained on the floor, she knew her face was pale but her attempt to appease him only seemed to make it worse.

Cassian stepped towards her, he looked like he was in pain.

‘’Sweethe-‘’

Thunder boomed. The roof filled with darkness. Cassian let out a curse whilst Nestas heart clenched.

Rhysand was here.

He emerged from his cloud of night with as much dramatics as she had to come to expect. It was clearly meant to send a message, to intimidate. Little did the high lord know that he was just wasting his energy. He had won. She would not fight him anymore. Surely Cassian had already reported that she was no more than a broken shell.

Cassian quickly stepped in front of her. Wings flared wide, a low growl sounded from his chest.

Rhys’s eyes widened slightly as he quirked a brow.

‘’Brother.’’ The high lord greeted but confusion laced his words. He looked at her then and she shrank back. The scent of her fear only seemed to piss Cassian off more.

The two males continued to stare at each other. A silent conversation clearing occurring. Rhysand glanced at her then brows furrowed, surprise was etched onto his features. She tried to keep her eyes down.

It’ll be over soon. I can go back to my room soon.

Then she felt it. The claws lightly scratching at her mind, asking to be let in. No no no

She was going to be sick.

Cassian was snarling now and advanced quickly towards his brother.

Like an animal protecting its favourite toy.

The brothers collided in a violent crash. Both disappearing into thin air.

Nesta attempted to catch her breath, tears were threatening. Why had Cassian reacted so strongly? He just told her that Rhysand was coming to lunch. She didn’t understand his sudden anger, sudden need to protect. Perhaps he felt guilty or possessive of his captive. But at least she no longer had to look at him.

She quickly exited the roof, making straight for her sanctuary.

#nesta archeron #nessian #acotar #acosf #pro nesta #anti ic #nessian fanfiction #angst #nesta and cassian

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Do you think you could write a snippet, for any of your fics?

Have multiple snippets! Guess which each is from!

.....

This felt like his past, like the painful ache of everyone he’d known before the Calamity haunting him. He didn’t know their circumstances, he didn’t know what had happened to them, he’d barely been able to start piecing it together. He’d barely even resolved to try to piece it together, stories and people from another life a century ago gnawing steadily at his sanity.

But Sky wasn’t a phantom from a past he couldn’t remember. Sky was a part of his life now, and he was terrified he’d become another lost Champion, another piece of his life that just vanished into thin air with no explanation, no closure, nothing.

Wild hugged himself a little, feeling ice cold and alone. Goddess, he hoped Sky was okay. He wanted to get up and look for him now. The sunlight was beginning to make the horizon glow, and he shot to his feet to wake the others. He doubted they’d mind the early start.

A bush rustled and snapped, and Wild grabbed his bow and arrows in a heartbeat, yelling, “Everybody up!”

Snores and yelps sounded around the camp, and a figure shot out of the bushes with its hands held high in the air, eyes wide and terrified.

“Easy!” the figure said shakily, and Wild recognized the skinny, muscular physique and voice after a few seconds of confusion. The postman took a steadying breath as Wild lowered his arrow while others scrambled for weapons and then froze in bewilderment. “I have a letter for a Mr. Rusl, I’m just passing through to get to Ordon.”

Legend dropped his sword to throw his hands in the air. “Do you ever sleep?!”

........

“Is that why you sell my stuff?”

“One does have to make a living—”

“You have a job, Ravio.”

“B-but what if it isn’t enough, you know I need comforts and the world can be so unpredictable and scary—”

Legend’s phone buzzed again. Sighing even more heavily than last time, Legend snatched the blasted object to put it on do not disturb when his eyes caught some of the words in the texts.

—help and I don’t know what—

Furrowing his brow, the travel nurse unlocked his phone to read the messages fully.

hey need a a favor wellaact ually actually maybe more of yeah I need a favor look I might be a liytle tipsyandd cant drive ok hang on swearica n type ha stnadby Ok. Typing slow. Need a drive. Ride Whatever I can’t drive myself an I need help and I don’t know what else to do Don’t want Wind to see me like this pls

Legend stared at the mess of texts. He… what? Why was Warriors drunk texting him of all people? He typed, Can’t you call Time? Or Sky?

Time would fuss Sky would worry Pls Ledge?

Legend frowned. You think I won’t fuss?

You alwayssfuss

His ire flared. I do not!!

LEDGE RIDE PLS

This night couldn’t get any worse. UGH FINE YOU MORON JUST TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE

......

His mouth became a thin line. “And I… I screwed it all up. I cursed everything, everyone. I cursed them.”

“Link,” Zelda said, caught off guard. She was struggling to understand how Demise had survived as well, but she wasn’t blaming either of them for it as he seemed to be. His worries were clearly eating him alive.

“Don’t,” Link immediately hissed, growing stormy. “Don’t even try it. You did everything right, you did your part, you trusted me to finish things and I didn’t.”

“What are you talking about?” Zelda asked, putting a hand to his cheek. “Link, you defeated him. We had no way of knowing—”

“I did,” Link spat, pulling out of her reach and turning away, his hands shaking as he clenched his fists. His shoulders hunched and his entire body was so tense it was ready to snap. “He said it himself. I thought—I was such a fool, Zelda, I—I thought—he started speaking about how his hatred would follow my spirit and your bloodline, and it sounded like the dying words of a monster, I—I didn’t realize it was a curse, that he was—I didn’t—I d-didn’t—”

Link’s body stiffened even further as shuddering gasps and hiccups interrupted his words, and he bowed his head, hugging himself. Zelda immediately rushed around him to face him fully once more, dragging him into the tightest hug she could muster, willing all of her love into it.

“You had no way of knowing,” she repeated as she processed what he’d said. “And who’s to say it was a curse right in that moment? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have happened whether he spoke it or not? Who’s to say there was any stopping it? Link, I was a goddess. I was a goddess and I couldn’t stop him. You did everything you were meant to do – you solved the puzzles, you tempered the Goddess Sword and made it into the Blade of Evil’s Bane, you traveled through time, you got the Triforce and used it to kill him. You beat him. It was Ghirahim who screwed everything up.”

#you ask skye answers #lovely anon #writing #also since this is the only way I can communicate this to everyone: #I JUST WATCHED THE MOST RECENT EPISODE OF HERO'S PURPOSE BY MAJORLINK #AND I AM S C R E A M I N G

[thatonegayship]

OTP post: 11, 25, 43 for billdip please👉👈

Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell?

It really depends on what it's about, honestly. I don't think either of them would be shy about spitting rage after someone cuts them off on the freeway while the other sits idoly, or nearly throttling the other for eating the last slice of pie labeled "Do Not Eat;" Dipper probably wouldn't do that last one unless he was certain it was safe to consume without something unspeakably horrible happening.

They're both one to hide their emotions, but Dipper's who hide's them specifically if they're "bad" emotions, so to speak. We already know Bill has a hard time admitting when he's completely fallen for his little Pinetree, but I doubt he'd cover his moping if his world-conquering plan with friends was cancelled last-minute, or his rage from any number of things.

Most I can give you is if something bad happened to Dipper, bad enough to be bad, but NOT bad enough to be really, really bad, there'd be a hard squeeze in his chest and a few double takes. He absolutely covers his concern with a smile and some jokes, but underneath, he wishes he could make his partner feel better. Dipper notices the subtle difference in his demeanor, but he doesn't realize for a while that it's actually him feeling bad on his behalf.

Dipper tries to hide his feelings. If he does, it's because whatever's making him so upset, he feels it shouldn't upset him, and he's embarrassed to admit otherwise. It's more-likely than not internalized bullshit or just general body image stuff; maybe some jerk from his highschool years thought it was a good idea to drop by the Mystery Shack and be especially condescending. Bill also notices these changes, and he's as reassuringly annoying as ever about it.

Do they have hobbies they share?

I'd say annoying each other counts. Also, watching RuPaul's Drag Race.

Who would give their life for the other without second thought?

Again, this is kind of situational, because the default answer would generally be "both of them," and while that's entirely true, there are still acceptions to the rule. Sure, in a hypothetical scenario, if some guy's got a gun pointed at one, the other's gonna slow-mo run in front of the bullet without second thought.

That's the difficult thing about them, though. They aren't usually ones for showing their love in dramatic flares of constant self-sacrifice (even if they tend to unintentionally do just that). They're more practical. They didn't find each other thinking they'd die for one another; they mean to live.

Say Dipper dies, and some creature comes to Bill saying he'll bring his lover back to life if he turns over all of his life force and join the cosmos as some robe-wearing pencil pusher. He wouldn't do it, because the whole point of their relationship is that they're spending all of eternity with one another, and dying just means he's given up on that dream.

Bill's a lot more than just jumping in front of an obstacle to protect his lover; he does that sort of thing all the time, since he's not really one for dying. But he has too many resources at hand to just die. When you're as ancient and as powerful as he is, there are plenty of different options for him to bring Dipper back without actually having to sacrifice his own life. Call him selfish, but he'd much rather go completely feral trying to resurrect the love of his life so that they can continue on together, than shrug his shoulders and take the L. He's very stubborn.

Dipper feels a similar way about this hypothetical. Aside from him just generally not wanting Bill to die, it's kind of frustrating to imagine him taking the easy route out instead of fighting for their relationship. (Yes, he does see Bill trading his soul for Dipper's as 'not putting in the effort.') Bill can warp time, kill God, level universes, and he'll put in the work to get it done too, but here, he's just gonna roll over? That's dumb. He'd rather just stay dead and wait for the reunion. Humans die. That's normal. Letting someone with God-like powers just keel over without even trying to go even more insane is kind of a waste of resources, though.