#I have a really bad nail biting habit sorry

[damsnackbar03]

somebody needs to take away my sketchbook privileges

[xosannie]

ateez’s reaction when you accidentally mark/scratch them bcs it feels so good and you just cant help it

☆a/n: sorry if this took so long I wanted it to be good🤞🏻also look at me posting fics back to back🤭

☆Genre: smut 18+ MDNI

☆Pairing: ot8xfem!reader

————————————————————

Hongjoong

He might not comment on it, but the feeling of pain definitely encourages him to keep going. Dare I say it turns him on.

~

It’s no surprise that Hongjoong likes to tease you. Giving you light touches and avoiding the area you need him the most, and if he does touch you where you crave him it’s at an agonizingly slow pace. So when finally, he has you pressed against the bed holding your legs open as he thrusted into you, you can’t help but gab onto whatever body part of his you can reach. In this case you hold onto his bicep, laying limp on the mattress as you let out whiny moans. It all just felt so good, finally having his cock slamming into you that you couldn’t help but drag your nails down his skin.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

You can feel his dick twitch in you and his hips drill into you at a faster pace (you didn’t know that was possible). In return he would lean down to dig his teeth in your neck, if you mark him he gets to mark you. You yelp at the feeling, clenching around his dick as you feel your orgasm creep up.

”You’re mine, remember that.”

If you had a dick you’d be so bricked up right now cause wtf he’s so hot for that.

Seonghwa

He doesn’t give it much thought when you scratch him, but once you start biting him… it’s game over

~

Seonghwa likes to hold you close while he fucked you, he loved the feeling of your skin rubbing against his as you moaned in his ear. In this particular situation you were trying to quiet down your moans while Seonghwa fucked you deep and slow. It was the middle of the night in your hotel room, you definitely didn’t want the other members sleeping next door to hear how good you were being fucked by their hyung. You held on to Seonghwa as your thighs trembled around him. You weren’t thinking when you suddenly dug your teeth in the crook of his neck to silent your moans. Seonghwa let out a choked moan and hips stilled as he pulled away slightly.

“Wait wait… don’t do that,” he whispered.

You looked up at him worryingly, afraid that you crossed a boundary you weren’t aware of.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I almost came,” he breathed out.

Holy fuck- YOU almost came after hearing that.

Yunho

He’s sort of in the middle ground, it doesn’t affect his deeply but he doesn’t hate it either. He does encourage it though, especially when he sees you resort to biting yourself.

~

You were always too scared to accidentally hurt Yunho during sex, you would just feel to bad. But you had this habit to want to bite on something when you felt too good. So when Yunho kneeled behind you while he fucked into you, you couldn’t help it when you raised your own hand up to bite down on it. Yunho noticed and he tsked at you, leaning forward so his chest pressed against your back. The new angle made you moan louder, this way Yunho was fucking even deeper in you. He reached forward to gently remove your hand from your mouth.

“No baby don’t bite yourself, here.”

He covered your mouth with his large palm, you were so fucked out that your brain didn’t fully process it when you bit down onto Yunho’s flesh. He grunted, kissing the side of your head.

“There you go, if you need to bite I’m right here okay?”

Afterwards, when you both finished and Yunho cleaned you up, you noticed the bite mark on his palm. You gasp, holding his hand gently to inspect the bite.

“I’m sorry baby, does it hurt?”

“No, it’s okay sweetheart,” Yunho chuckles.

You already felt a pang of guilt and Yunho noticed, cupping your face to reassure you.

“Heys it’s really okay baby, it honestly doesn’t hurt.”

“Are you sure?” “Yes I’m sure,” he kissed you softly. “Besides, it’s kinda cute when you feel so good you resort to biting.”

“If you call me cute I’ll get horny again.”

Yeosang

He doesn’t necessarily like the sting of the pain, but he wouldn’t want you to stop. He knows that if you’re marking him it means he’s doing a good job, and that turns him on.

~

Yeosang loved to pleasure you, one of his favorite ways was to have you sitting in his lap, back pressed against his chest as his fingers moved in and out of your hole. He loved to hold you, pressing soft kisses on your neck and cheek while you moaned at the feeling of his fingers fucking you. You threw your head back, resting it against his shoulder. You never purposefully hurt Yeosang, you weren’t thinking when you dug your nails in the skin of his forearm. He tries to hold back a whimper, pressing his lips together to keep the noise in.

“That feel good baby?” He asks in his deep yet soothing voice.

You nod eagerly, unable to form words from how good Yeosang fingers felt inside you.

“Yeah? I can tell. Mmm I love pleasing you.”

Of course after everything you apologize repeatedly while kissing the marks you left. He would just laugh and assure you that it’s okay.

“Don’t worry about it baby, you did it cause you felt so good. It means… I did good,” he says the last part shyly.

You pause at his words, heart exploding at how cute he looked.

“Im sucking your dick.”

San

He definitely doesn’t mind if you scratch or bite him, but his favorite if when you mark his body with pretty hickies. He loves the feeling of your tongue on him, lips sucking at his skin. It’s just so arousing and intimate.

~

You were just so horny, you haven’t seen San in days due to how busy he was. So when you both were finally alone, your grew too desperate when your soft kisses turned into a heated make out session. You both already tore each others clothes off before he pulled you closer to straddle his lap. You subconsciously rocked your hips against him, causing him to groan when he felt the way your wet pussy dragged against his bare thigh. He gripped your hips, guiding them back and forth making you to moan against his lips. You didn’t know if it’s because of how needy you were or if you’re just a sensitive slut, but the way your clit rubbed against the taut muscle made your head reel.

“I missed you so much baby, come on mark me up, let everyone know that I belong to you.”

You let out a small whimper, hiding your face in his neck to suck at his warm skin. You heard him groan at he feeling of your tongue, hands gripping tighter when he felt you nibble him just a bit.

“Yes there you go, good girl.”

”Call me a good girl again and I’m cumming on your thigh.” San laughs, placing a kiss on the side of your head.

Mingi

Honestly he doesn’t pay any mind to it since he’s too lost in the feeling of your warmth around his cock. Although, when he’s eating you out, that’s a different story.

~

You legs trembled around Mingi’s head as you entangled your fingers in his hair. The way he licked at your gushing hole while his long nose rubbed against your clit made your back arch. Your legs closed around his head but Mingi didn’t mind, he loved with when you trapped him against your pussy. You felt yourself getting closer to release, eyes rolling in the back of you head as you dug your nails in his scalp. Mingi whimpered against your core at the feeling, closing his eyes shut as you came all over his tongue. After your high was over, you realized how much you were hurting him so you massaged his scalp worryingly.

“Sorry Mingi, did that hurt? It just felt so good I couldn’t help it.”

“No don’t apologize,” he breathed out, pulling himself up to smash his lips on yours. You felt his throbbing cock press against your thigh.

“That was so hot, I want to fuck you but If I do I won’t last very long.”

Aaaand, you’re horny again :/

Wooyoung

Oh this man would looove it. He’s a pain slut just as much as you are. He loves the sting it feels good to him and he especially loves seeing the marks you left the next day. ~

You grasped tightly onto Wooyoung’s shoulder while you bounced on his length. He gripped your hips tightly, stilling your movement to drill up into your hole. You fell forward, hiding your face in Wooyoung’s neck as he grunted loudly. The feeling was so overwhelming you needed to ground yourself. You couldn’t help it when your nails scratched across his upper back leaving red trails on his tan skin. He moaned in your ear, hips stuttering for a moment.

“Do that again,” he commanded. You couldn’t comprehend what he said, getting lost at the feeling of Wooyoung fucking you just right. He slapped your ass making you yelp.

“I said scratch me again!” This time you did as you were told, scratching him without hesitation. The noises that came out of Wooyoung made you cum on his cock.

Like literally, you came so hard.

Jongho

He wouldn’t say much about it in the moment… but boy does it do something to him. He just doesn’t like to show it.

~

Jongho held your legs up while he thrusted inside you. You couldn’t stop squirming from how Jongho’s thick cock was hitting the perfect spot. You reached down, gripping his thighs and digging your nails in his skin just to drag it down scratching him. He would wince quietly but the sound would be drowned out but your loud moans. It wasn’t until hours later, when your both snuggled up on the couch after a shower that he speaks up.

“I really liked when you scratched me earlier.”

You turn your head to him, a little shocked by his confession. His gaze didn’t even meet yours, still fixated on the TV screen

“Really? I felt a little bad when I saw the mark I gave you when we were showering.”

“No don’t feel bad, keep doing it from now on.”

He pulled you in closer and you smiled at his attempt to sound nonchalant.

“Whatever you say bear,” you kissed his cheek and he fought back a smile.

Why was he so cute? :(

[rafeslutsblog]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ CONTENT ⊹ 18+, rafe x brattyfem!reader, silent treatment, smut (on his boat), p in v, creampie, degrading — m.list

slightly inspired by this tiktok edit of him saying “don’t shake your head”

first fic im sorry this sucks ૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎აㅤ

Once again, you’re giving your boyfriend the silent treatment. You’ve lost count on how many times you have done this. You can’t help it, he has a habit of getting on your nerves whenever you’re having a bad day. Even when he tries to make amends by taking you out on his boat, your frustration doesn’t go away.

You were sitting in the cockpit while he opened another water. “Seriously? Keeping your mouth shut?” His tongue flicked out, touching the corner of his mouth, and his eyes met yours. You inhaled and a heavy sigh escaped your lips. “I’m just tired today.”

“And so you ignore me?” He replied in a slightly irritated tone. “You know how much I hate when you do this.”

He glared at you, his eyes narrowing as they roved over you. Despite the bright sun shining down on the two of you, the only thing you could really feel was his gaze. "Come on," he spoke, his voice sharp and impatient. "Say something. I'm done with your bullshit."

You shaked your head, “Don’t shake your head at me.” His jaw clenched and the way he tilted his head, gave away how tensed up he was too. Before you can begin to respond, he’s already sitting beside you with his hands at the nape of your neck turning your head to face him, “If you don’t start talking, then I’ll make you.” He said sternly.

The waves are quiet and calm. You bite your lip slightly, “Christ,” he muttered under his breath. You feel his hands go and spread your thighs apart easily. “Rafe-“ You began but he shoved two fingers in your mouth to the back of your throat. His warm breath fanning your face as spit pooled from your mouth.

“Oh so now you want to talk?” His sneered mockingly at you as you stared at his piercing blue eyes, “No, I don’t think so.” Your eyes watered as you gagged on his fingers, face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. You tried to pull away, but this only leaded to him shoving his fingers deeper and deeper into your throat.

He grabbed a fistful of your shorts, yanking them down to your knees. With one swift move, he slid his hand to your crotch, cupping your wet pussy through your panties. "Fucking knew it, already so wet for me?"

You try to speak but get cut off, “I'm sorry, what was that?" He asked, his voice cold and harsh. His fingers kept working their magic inside your mouth, teasing and tormenting your sensitive flesh. You tried to speak again, but all that came out was a muffled sound. Your heart pounded inside your chest from the arousal you were beginning to feel. Even his presence alone was enough to make your breath quicken.

You could never resist rafes touch, and he knew that.

As your heart raced, rafe finally pulled his fingers from your mouth, leaving it feeling cold and empty. He quickly moved his hand downward pushing your underwear aside, rubbing his slick fingers against your swollen clit and into your wet pussy.

The corner of his lips curled up a little. You squirmed in pleasure as his finger entered you, pushing deeper and probing your wet folds. A soft moan escaped your lips, muffled by the sound of his fingers rubbing against your swollen clit.

"There we go,” rafe said, his voice husky with desire. "You're so fucking tight around my fingers. Let me hear you moan." And with that, he thrust his finger deeper inside you, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips. “Oh, God," you moaned, your head spinning with pleasure.

Rafe groaned as you clutched his wrist, your nails digging lightly into his skin. Your body arched into his touch, craving more. "Oh fuck," you gasped, feeling his fingers penetrate you even further. He let out a small laugh under his breath, “You like having your pussy stuffed with my fingers, don't you?" You moaned in response, not being able to form words.

He flexed his jaw, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. Subconsciously you licked your own, he stirred beside you and took out his fingers. He grabbed both your knees and laid you back on the soft cushion.

Looking down at you, he cupped the side of your face roughly. His other hand moved between your legs, spreading them apart once more. "You're so fucking beautiful," he breathed, “You look even better with my cock in you too.” He tapped the side of your face with his hand.

The anticipation was killing you as he stared deeply into your eyes, his hands roaming over your body possessively.

Your eyes darted as he started removing his pants. “Rafe, I’m sorry. I won’t ignore you again-but people might see," you managed to stutter out between breaths. "I don’t give a shit," he interrupted, his eyes darkening with lust. With that, he continued to unbuckle himself, his cock already hard and throbbing against his pants.

You gasped as he finally pushed inside of you, filling you up completely. He always stretched you past your limit. His hips almost immediately slammed against yours in a rhythm that made you moan out loud.

“Bought you clothes, brought you out here on this boat, got you lunch,” He groaned, pounding into you. “And you had to give me the silent treatment, huh?” He growled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hips driving relentlessly into yours.

You moaned loudly, your body shaking under his as you gave in to the pleasure he was giving you. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done that," you panted, your head rolling back more.

His eyes flashed with satisfaction as you apologized, your voice barely audible over the sound of your moans. “You’re sorry?” His fingers dig into her hips as he thrusts deeper into her, “But you’re always sorry isn’t that right? Fucking slut-“

His thrusts grew harder and more relentless as he took you on the boat's cockpit. You cried out his name in a mix of pleasure and pain, your body arching into him. "I'm really sorry, I was just-.." Your words trail off to a moan and you clung onto him, wrapping your hands around his biceps.

His pace picked up, and he started slamming into you with unrestrained force. You moaned loudly, practically screaming. Your walls clenching around him as he pounded into you.

You couldn’t be more thankful that no other boats were around. You wouldn’t know what to do if someone (or people) happened to see you getting dicked down by rafe cameron. Maybe at that point you wouldn’t care.

The pleasure was almost unbearable, and you were barely holding on. His hips pistoned against yours, driving his cock deeper into your core.

His hips stilled suddenly, causing you to gasp around his cock. He stared down at you, his eyes burning into yours. "Why did you stop?" you asked, surprise evident in your voice. His curtain bangs shifted onto his face as he’s panting.

"Oh, you want me to keep going?" He mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The grin on his face was wicked as he stared down at her. You feel yourself getting embarrassed, “Keep going..” you murmured.

"Can't hear you, use your words f’me.” He repeated.

Then, he punctuated his words with a hard thrust that buried his cock deep inside you once more before stopping again. You moaned and called out his name as he pushed deeper into you. You felt every inch of his length inside you, and you wanted more. "Please, keep going, rafe," you pleaded, arching your back in an invitation for him to take you even deeper.

“Keep begging," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes locked onto yours as he fought against the urge to lose control and just fuck you senseless right then and there.

“Please fuck me," you moaned, spreading your legs wider for him. Your body is aching for his touch, and your swollen pussy is ready to take him as deep as possible. "Fuck me, rafe," you lightly groan out, your voice trembling with desire. He always knows how to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

That was all it took. His thrusts became harder and faster, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythm that matched the pounding of his heart. His body moving him forward as his elbows found purchase on either sides of your head, pinning you beneath him.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the cockpit as rafe fucked you harder, his hips pounding into yours. Your moans and gasps filled the air, intertwining with his rough breathing as he took you to the edge.

He chuckles, watching your fucked out face and as your cunt parts and flares around him, fluttering walls hugging his huge cock. “Such a bratty little whore f’me.” He grunted, his voice thick with lust and satisfaction. “Fuck, yeah.”

You feel him pulsing inside you, you moan and beg for more, not wanting this pleasure to ever end. "More…" You whimpered, "Give me more."

Hearing your plea, rafes eyes glazed all over your face and body. His thrusts intensify further, his body practically shuddering with the effort to give you what you crave.

“See? Now you’re finally using that pretty mouth of yours." His voice raw with desire. “A little slutty pussy like this needs to be throughly fucked every day.” He laughed pounding into you, he reached down and began to rub your clit in rapid circles. The sensation is overwhelming, sending shockwaves of pleasure rolling throughout your body.

“Rafe, oh god, I'm so close…!” You moaned, your head thrown back in ecstasy as he continues to thrust and rub. Feeling the intensity of your response, rafe moaned in approval. He circled your clit faster and harder, drawing out cries of pure bliss from your lips.

"Almost there," he muttered through gritted teeth. His hips keep slamming into yours, causing sparks of pleasure to shoot through your entire body. "So fucking close," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire.

Your moans grow louder, echoing on the boat as you feel the impending climax. "I'm cumming! Oh god, don't stop!" Each word is punctuated by a sharp intake of breath and a quivering sensation throughout your body. Your pussy gripped tightly around him, pulling him down into you, milking his cock with every thrust. Your legs tremble and your body shivers, wracked with pleasure as your orgasm crashes over you. "Fuck, I’m cumming!”

Once you cum, rafes eyes rolled to the back of his head, a mix of lust and satisfaction etched on his face. With a low groan, he releases his seed into you, filling you up with his thick, hot cum. "Shit.." he drags out the word, his body trembling.

You lay there, your chest heaving as you catch your breath after the intense orgasm. You're twitching and aching all over, both from the pleasure you've just experienced and the fullness of your boyfriend still inside of you.

His pace slows down, his thrusts growing shallower, softer, as he catches his breath and began to come back down from the high.

“Mm..rafe,” you groaned softly, barely above a whisper. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him down closer to you.

He gazed down at you with loving eyes, his hair falling onto his face as he leaned in to kiss you. "That’s what happens when you ignore me," he murmured, a charming smile playing on his lips. His fingers run through your hair, pushing it back gently before he captures your lips in a kiss again.

[luveline]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬? | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you have a bad habit and miguel finds a solution —a begrudgingly in love miguel deals with his gf’s oral fixation. 1k. requested here

cw mildly mature themes/love bites. mdni

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel knew when he passed you his hand that you'd start some weird shit like this. You withhold for a while, but eventually his fingertips end up by your mouth. You brush them against your lips absent-mindedly. He knows you like the feeling, knows you draw an unconscious comfort from being able to chew on something, and he's not interested in demonising you for something you can't help. 

What he can't abide is your using him like a dollar store chew toy. The second he feels your breath against his fingers, he pulls your joined hands down into the gap between your thighs on the workbench and warns, "Don't." 

"Sorry, Miguel," you say, blinking back to attention. 

"Can't you chew on a pencil like a normal person?" 

"Sorry," you say again, not really sorry. Miguel's not really mad. "I forget that it's you." 

He likes the sound of that, even if he's still disapproving. It's hard to be mad when the level of trust you have for him extends so far, the comfort he gets from your mere presence reflected in you and your lack of shame surrounding a bad habit. Miguel sighs and goes back to his sketching. You squeeze his hand twice and do the same. 

If you can't bite him, you'll bite yourself. It starts with your nails and stretches to your cuticles. You've hurt yourself doing it before, and Miguel doesn't want to see you do it again. He winces at way you nibble your skin.

"Could you cut it out?" he asks. 

"I'm not doing anything." 

"You're trying to start the next apocalypse." 

"It's not hurting anyone," you insist. 

"It's hurting you." 

You let go of his hand to take the computer mouse, dragging and dropping a file from the first monitor onto his. He doesn't bother opening it. It's some flirtatious drivel or tech he doesn't want to deal with,  undoubtedly. 

"It's okay," you sing-song quietly. "You're such a worrier."

He thinks, Fine. Leaves you to your work, gets on with his own, and tries not to worry about your poor fingertips. Ten minutes become an hour, and he forgets what you'd been squabbling about, distracted by work. You drop file after file onto his screen until he gives in and opens one, finds a note drawing done with a jagged cursor of him, he assumes, frowny-faced with a bright red heart drawn around himself. The majority are the same, though the first one you sent him is Miguel with a smile, his cartoon version captioned, "secret softie :3". He puts a couple in his files and the rest in the recycling basket. 

He's retrieving the ones he deleted guiltily when you hiss. He checks on you from the corner of his eye, and notices the little red line of blood building in your cuticle. 

"There's actually something wrong with you."

"Ouch," you murmur, waving your finger around. "Stings." 

"I told you." 

"D'you have a bandaid?" 

Miguel doesn't have a bandaid in the workshop. His first aid kit is half nano tech, half traditional wrap around bandages, all overkill for your surface wound. He takes pit on you and your crinkled face and pulls your hand toward eye level to inspect the damage. You've pulled the cuticle skin up toward the bed and torn skin that should be left alone, blood quick to congeal in the air. He should've just let you bite him. 

"Idiot," he says, and kisses the side of your hand. "Don't do it again."

You grumble at his name calling but seem otherwise appeased. It's not long before your hand is going back to your mouth, but you must remember his demand, choosing to tuck your hands between your thighs. You squirm in your seat and can't focus on your work. 

Miguel thinks, Fuck it. 

"Alright, come here."

You wheel your chair closer.

"What, I have to do all the work?" he asks, holding out his arms. "Come here." 

You stand and slide between the desk and his legs. His thighs are big, and your own press to the top of the desk from the lack of space. You put a hand on his arm curiously. 

"Kiss me," he says. 

You lean in quickly and kiss him. A tentative thing where you're usually confident laying one on him. 

"What was that?" he asks. 

"A kiss?" 

"Kiss me properly," he says. He bracelets your elbow in a big hand, a soft touch to reassure you. "You've wanted to all day." 

You have the decency to pretend (albeit weakly) that he's wrong. "Whaaaat? Who told you that?" 

Miguel sighs and takes your face into his hands instead. He takes in your expression slowly, your eyes, your pupils like black dimes, lashes kissing in the outer corners as you look down to his mouth. You bite the inside of your lip and he loses it —Miguel tugs you against his chest and kisses you firmly, hand at the small of your back and pulling urgently upward in an attempt to bring you closer. 

He can feel the little line from your own biting on your lips as he presses against the seam of them, and he doesn't know what he's going to do with you besides kiss you: he won't let you chew on him, no matter how nice your mouth is. He'll just have to kiss you until you can cope. 

Or you could always bite him in other places. 

"Wait, wait, I can't breathe," you say, pulling away. 

Miguel works his fingertips under the back of your shirt, feeling the slope of bare skin there absentmindedly. "My bad. How's your compulsion?" 

"Wanna play vampires?" you ask. 

He laughs and leans away from you, a feigned disapproval. "Wanna play get a grip?" 

"Grip on your neck?" you ask. 

"How about I bite you? See how you like it." 

You pull your knee up, socked foot digging into his thigh as you lay your cheek on his collar, straining up every time you want to kiss his neck. You press sweet, chaste kisses into his skin, seemingly unbothered by the pretzel-like position you've twisted yourself into. 

"You act like I'm a chair."

"You told me," —kiss, kiss— "to sit here, Miguel, I don't know what you want from me." Third kiss, then a fourth. 

He tamps down goosebumps and gives up. "Can you chill out while I work?" 

"... I can keep kissing you?" 

"Do what you like. I need to finish this net." 

You lounge. Miguel struggles to keep it together, but at least you aren't biting your nails anymore. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed!! if you did and you have the time, please think about reblogging <3

[sucker4colby]

Party’s over

Part 1

Summary: Colby fucked up bad. Choosing his girl best friend amber over his girlfriend on his girlfriends birthday.

Warning: cussing, angst, fluff between best friends, insecurities.

Pairing: Colby Brock x female reader.

I could feel jakes sympathetic gaze on me as I paced back and forth biting the nail on my thumb, a habit I exhibited when in distress. There was no way you could miss how uneasy I was, the anxiety stinking up the room. “ maybe he’s caught up in traffic.” His voice broke the silence in my bedroom. I closed my eyes in annoyance letting out a sigh, I wasn’t annoyed at Jake I was annoyed at my boyfriend Colby. We had been together 2 years and for some reason he chose today of all days to flake on me, my 25th birthday. I turned to face the boy who sat on my bed trying to comfort me. “ he hasn’t messaged me all day Jake. I woke up and he was gone. No happy birthday nothing.” I told him blinking rapidly to push back the tears threatening to spill over my water line.

He nodded dropping his head knowing we both knew Colby had forgotten my birthday so there was no use in giving me false hope. I stared up at ceiling trying to make sure no tears dropped on my makeup I had worked hard on. I wouldn’t lie but I was hurt, I never cared to make a big deal out of celebrating my birthday as long as I was surrounded by the most important people in my life, Colby being the most important of them all had convinced me to make a fuss this year only for him to leave me hanging. The clenching i felt in my chest traveled up to my jaw as my feelings shifted from being sad to being furious.

A knock broke the silence causing Jake and I to look at who was entering my room. “ hey, sorry, i couldn’t get a hold of him.” Sam waved his phone at me giving me a sympathetic smile. I nodded reaching up weakly to smooth my hair down from me running my hands through it so much. “ I’m sure he’s fine , you should come down and enjoy your party.” The blonde boy tried consoling me. “ he better be lying in a ditch bleeding out.” I snapped instantly feeling bad but I was angry his location was off and he wasn’t answering my calls or messages. I never checked Colby’s location but we had shared it in case of emergencies back when we were just friends. I just couldn’t believe he wasn’t here , I had brushed every red flag off indicating he had forgotten thinking maybe he was planning a surprise trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I followed the two boys out of my room and downstairs to where my birthday party was being held. The loud bass of the music vibrating throughout my body dulling the already present ache there.

I was wished a happy birthday by hundreds of people but none of them being the person I really wanted, only spreading the sadness throughout my body. I faked a smile and cheered along with everyone accepting a couple drinks to help me forget why I was down. Honestly fuck Colby wherever he was, I didn’t need him to enjoy myself, I found myself thinking as I threw my head back downing a shot of tequila earning cheers from a couple people surrounding me. I laughed throwing my arms up and cheering along with them momentarily forgetting my concerns.

I felt my phone buzz in my left pocket so I reached down to grab it walking away from the make shift bar in the kitchen. I furrowed my eyebrows in confused at the notification stating that Colby Brock had posted on his instagram. I had alerts on for whenever he posted so i thought it was odd since he wasn’t responding. Clicking on it his posted showed up, a mirror pick of him and amber, amber smiling big and leaning her head on his shoulder. My smile dropped and my body ran cold making me freeze in the middle of the room. He had forgotten my birthday because he was hanging out with amber, I knew they were friends and I didn’t have a problem until they started getting flirty with each other.

I was fighting back tears faking a smile at a friend who cheered walking past me. How could I be so stupid of course he would forget the moment he was with her. She’s beautiful and I’m just me, she had full plump lips, flawless skin, her body was to die for and here I am, plain and ordinary me. My skin all of sudden felt dirty and I felt like I looked ridiculous wearing these jeans and revealing shirt, my makeup felt heavy and caked on now and I know you could see the pimple I had on my cheek. Wiping the stray tear on my left cheek I put my head down and rushed to the bathroom to recollect myself.

My arm was tugged back making me fall into sams chest where he wrapped his arms around me. I looked up at him not able to hide my watery eyes and pouting lips. “ I’m sorry bubble, he fucked up and I let him know he isn’t aloud near you when he gets home” he comforted tugging me towards my original location. I guess he had seen the post as well but I’m just glad he knew his best friend fucked up. I couldn’t stop the water works once the blonde boy called me by my nickname, and I couldn’t help but think why was Sam here and not Colby. I sobbed clinging onto him wishing I was dreaming and I was hugging my blue eyed boyfriend instead of crying over him. He shushed me rocking us back and forth patting my head hoping it would calm me down which it did for a bit.

“ Katrina will come up with you while I try to kick people out ok ?” He asked making me look up at him. I nodded thankful that I could count on Sam to be there for me. I raced up the stairs hoping not many people saw me and rushed into my room changing into some sweat pants and big hoodie. Katrina had walked in with some water and snacks as I was rinsing my face off placing them on my bed and walking into my bathroom.

“Hey bubbles, how are you holding up.” She asked handing me my towel to dry off my face. I pouted at her looking at her with my bloodshot eyes knowing she already knew the answer. “ come on, Colby’s a dumbass.” She pouted back bringing me in to hug her. “ I didn’t think he was this big of a dumbass.” I sniffled angrily nuzzling my head into her shoulder. My phone started ringing from the bed making us both look at it. My lip trembled as I saw the familiar caller contact pop up, a picture of Colby and I smiling into our kiss reminding me how much It hurt that that I loved him so much when he was doing the bare minimum. Kat reached out turning my phone off causing me to raise my eyebrows at her.

“ he’s been ignoring you all day, we’re just matching his energy.” She shrugged guiding me towards my bed tucking me in and making herself comfortable as my big spoon, I couldn’t help but giggle at her accepting her cuddles. “ you know, if it doesn’t work out with Colby I could break up with Sam and date you.” She whispered causing me to close my eyes and let out a laugh. Of course kat would be the one to cheer me up, I considered her my best friend for that reason. Ever since we met, we hit it off always being there for each other and being each others number one fan.

We laid in silence her arms wrapped around me providing the warmth and love I sought from Colby. It broke me that my best friend was setting the standard higher than Colby was but it was opening my eyes. Maybe I loved Colby more than he loved me, and maybe that’s why it was so easy for me to show him and harder for him to show me. Maybe I had been so in love with him I was turning a blind eye to what was in front of me, he had gone out of his way to get amber tickets to a show she wanted to see for her birthday and I so stupidly had helped him get them calling around to different vendors to get them. Was I keeping him from being with the person he really wanted to be with? Amber wasn’t a bad person so I know she would never try to purposely ruin my relationship but this was on Colby.

Tears dropped down my cheeks as I laid there silently hoping I wouldn’t wake Katrina who had just fallen asleep. I wanted to sink into the bed and disappear, was I really that replaceable or forgettable. I could hear Sam downstairs making an announcement that the party was over, somehow that made my heart break even more. The party was over and he was still at her house, he had been with her all day not even bothering to let me know he was ok.

Pretty soon all you could hear were Kats light snores and the crickets outside as everyone had left. Sam had some in to say goodnight before making his way into his own room deciding to let kat sleep with me since I seemed to need her more. As I laid there for a couple hours in self pity I heard the familiar engine of his red corrola pull into the drive way and the door shut. I screwed my eyes shut trying to fight even more tears from falling at each sound of his footsteps climbing the stairs. I honestly didn’t know what I wanted from him, did I want him to leave me alone or did I want him to make things right. Did I just want the chance to be petty back or did I want to fix things. My breath caught in my throat as he stood right outside my door his shadow visible from under the door my heart pounded and I could hear it in my ears. I don’t know how I kept myself from shaking as he opened the door to peak in, I pretended to be asleep hoping it was make him go away.

He never did come in, he shut the door and walked away.

____________

Hi guys ! I know I haven’t been posting but Ive had writers block 😭

Im hoping to make this a two part series so stay tuned ! Let me know if you have any suggestions!

Also It’s been weeks and I can’t wrap my head around the fact that Sam and kat are broken up 💔

As for the nickname bubbles I literally just pulled that out of my ass, I’m trying to refrain from giving my characters a name or using y/n.

[yolli-es]

I love jinx she’s my everything and my comfort character so I’m really insecure not even in normal insecurity like I’m on an deep level and I have a really bad eating disorder was wondering how would yandere! Jinx handle that I’m insecure about everything about me and i hide all my body I can’t eat or look in mirrors if I did I’ll break them (you don’t have to do this request I think it’s absolutely ridiculous also I’m okay I’m in therapy now)

Is it my fault? 🧊

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, mention of blood, theme of uncertainty.

Well, I was gone for quite a while, lol, but I was able to fight off the teachers and come back 💪🏻 I hope you are glad to see me again, and I also have to say that I wrote about this from my point of view, and I am sorry if I did not understand your state of mind. This topic is not so close to me, and I really tried 🙏🏻

Jinx knew from the start that something was wrong. You were always too shy, closed off, and scared. You never exposed your body. The world saw nothing but your palms and head. Is this your style? No, you always look embarrassed when your clothes suddenly ride up and just a little bit more is visible. She thought that society, all those people around you, were to blame for everything. They must have just rammed their shit into you and are enjoying themselves. Jinx won't let them trample you that easily! But nothing changes even when you become a couple and Jinx becomes your rock and protection from any unwanted contact. No, she cut you off from the world. Seeing your insecurities seemed right to her. Jinx just makes your life easier, doesn't she? You didn't change.

It seemed to only get worse.

Mirrors. It took Jinx a moment to realize you were doing this. Everything in Zaun was broken, even the people. And yet there was something strange about the mirrors in your house. She resisted for a long time and attributed everything to her new quirks. Then she counted the number of cracks on all the mirrors you could reach. And she knew. Her stomach twisted, her pupils dilated, and she wanted to pass out. No, she was going to do it right now. You were breaking mirrors. Everywhere you could reach. How could she not notice? There's blood in the cracks that can't be washed away. Damn, did you do that with your bare hand? No, no, no.

"It's my fault."

It took all her strength not to lose the last fragments of her sanity. She honestly didn't understand why. You weren't threatened, you didn't talk to anyone, and you were always under Jinx's supervision. Unless....no. She would never have affected you like that. Jinx held back then and didn't tell you anything. No matter how much Mylo screamed, Claggor was right. This would scare you; she had to act rationally now. She needs to give you time and herself time too. Jinx needs to know the real reason for your behavior. Now she will be even more attentive.

Jinx had no idea then that the broken mirrors were just the tip of a deeper problem.

You rarely dine together, usually having to eat on the run or while working. But today is a special day—your anniversary. You've been together for a year. 

Jinx bites her lip, Her nails make an audible sound as they scratch the tray with the rich cake on it. She baked it herself. But right now she's not thinking about the cake or even the anniversary. Jinx can't sleep, can't work, and even explosions don't bring pleasure. What else are you hiding? She's been watching you for weeks now after she found out about your horrible habit, but Jinx still hasn't found out anything new. But there's something else going on with you, something she doesn't know about. She feels it. Mylo chuckled. Jinx hissed. She smiled tensely before starting the conversation.

"We've been together for a long time, haven't we?" She forced herself to smile, but it came out ragged and menacing. "I mean, we're like family now. Do you consider me your family?"

Jinx, trying not to make it too obvious, leaned forward. It looked menacing. You certainly noticed it. She's just trying to keep herself together, not to give away the pressure that's built up inside her.

"Hmm, yes, Jinx, I've told you that many times! You mean a lot to me." You smiled, sincerely as always.

But Jinx doesn't believe you now. No, she just can't. Anxiety, fear, and misunderstanding are eating her up from the inside.

"Good," Jinx sat down on the chair, creaking it closer to the table. "Then let's eat."

But Jinx doesn't even try to start eating, just looking at you. A new thought flashed through her mind. Strangely, despite her obsession with your existence, she's never watched you eat.

"Are you okay? You're looking at me like that," you swallowed nervously. The atmosphere was definitely not friendly.

"Oh, sorry," she didn't even try to put on a happy face this time, "start without me."

You hesitated, looking down at the plate. Jinx carefully cut a small piece of cake and placed it right in front of you. It was fluffy, with lots of cream, and covered in food coloring. It looked beautiful and delicious. You picked up a fork and began to break it into pieces.

"So.. how's your work?" You looked up, suddenly more confident and clearly in high spirits. This confused Jinx. She responded without really thinking. Her gaze was glued to you and your hands. You didn't like it and began to distract her in various ways. This had been going on for ten minutes now, and you still hadn't put a bite in your mouth.

Jinx's eyes, which had been looking at you emotionlessly until now, suddenly narrowed in concern. And you realized. Your seat suddenly became uncomfortable, and the room was hot.

"You don't like it?" Jinx asked quietly, cautiously, almost scared. Shyness, hiding your body behind baggy clothes, breaking mirrors, and not wanting to eat your once favorite cake. Was it ever your favorite? It seemed like the puzzle was coming together in her head.

"What? Oh, no! I'm just not hungry." You were caught off guard. Is this the end? Has she figured it out, and is she going to leave you? Will she be angry or cry? You couldn't stop thinking, going over all the possible reactions Jinx might have. Unfortunately, your girlfriend wasn't stupid. She noticed it was evident on her face. The trick that worked on everyone else had no effect on her.

You can't eat. Every time you eat something like this, your conscience gnaws at you. You want to spit out everything you ate.

"I'm so sorry," was the first thing Jinx said. "I'm sorry; I should have noticed. Are you... is this because of me?" Jinx spoke softly, but there was no hint of tears on her face. There was no emotion at all. You were hurt by what was happening. Any reaction she might give would hurt you.

Jinx is about to explode with emotion. She's trying so hard to be "normal" right now so you can rely on her to open up. It's heartbreaking, but it's having the desired effect, and you're plucking up your courage.

You took a breath. This is going to be hard.

Of course Jinx thought she was just taking shitty care of you, cruelly ignoring your problems and leaving you to suffer alone.

But that's not true. You never shifted responsibility to others, realizing that you were simply insecure in yourself. You certainly met shitty people—more than you wanted. But who in Zaun pays attention to them? You just suffered from constant comparisons to others and couldn't do anything about it. You honestly fought with yourself, your shyness, and other shit that was dragging you down. Jinx only helped you along the way, without realizing it. Every time she proudly held your hand walking along the busy streets, every time she unashamedly said, "Yes, this is my future wife," and every time she ignored the advances of a conventionally beautiful girl.

Your silence and her speculations brought you here.

And yet you came to understand Jinx. How could it be otherwise? She will never let you go.

But you will never want to leave.

"Oh, I'm always here," Jinx hugged you, and you did the same in return. It was a pleasant ending after several hours of relentless altercations. You were silent, whispering, screaming, crying, and didn't understand each other. But now everything became clear.

Jinx, on her yandere side, is not ready to leave everything just like that. Now in your house there is only one whole mirror, specially stolen from Piltover. You often eat together, and Jinx tries to make each meal as relaxed for you as possible so that you simply forget about the food itself. She will definitely not let you go, love you less, judge you, or make the situation better by force. Not with this problem. She will do everything you ask to make you feel better.

Jinx loves you.

In her strange way.

That's all! I hope you haven't forgotten about me 😅 This work is quite short, but I hope I was able to convey the main points and mood.

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 1)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Arguing, and Name Calling

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Five years later, Rafe makes an unplanned stop at a diner that reveals a secret that Y/N has been keeping from him.

Masterlist

Y/N wipes the counter with a clean rag, looking up at the clock across the wall. Three more hours until Stella is dropped off from daycare. “If you think rubbing that spot over and over again will make a genie appear and you can wish for her to be here faster, then I’m sorry to say that you are going to be disappointed,” Harvey jokes, following her gaze to the clock. She stops cleaning, “Sorry, I just miss her so much. I think I’m PMSing.” “Sure, we can blame it on your period,” he laughs. Y/N pushes him over in annoyance, escaping to her back office to hopefully make the time go faster. 

She smiles at the picture of the grandma on the desk, settling on her chair to order more inventory. Her life plans weren’t exactly to take over the diner, yet it’s not like she was planning on having a baby at twenty either. Y/N was left the diner in her grandma’s will and she took it so that it could stay in the family. There are no regrets in either of those decisions. Sure, she didn’t get her big break in LA or New York, but she would never dream of trading her daughter for anything in the world. Stella Y/L/N is the light of her life, even if she is the spinning image of her dad. Stella is all Y/N’s and that’s all that matters. She may have Rafe’s eyes, but she has Y/N’s sense of humour. Her lips are the same as his, but she loves the same movies as her mom. Her hair colour may match his, but she also has the same bad habit of biting her nails as her mom. 

Y/N focuses on the words on her screen when Harvey comes running into her office. “A total hunk just came into the restaurant and I have been ordered by Patty to come get you. She thinks he can be your soulmate. Says to let you take his table,” he informs, pointing behind him with his thumb. Y/N shakes her head, “I’m the owner. I really should be the one telling you to take tables, but I won’t disappoint Patty. I’ll be out in a second.” Harvey nods and heads back out to check on his customers. She finishes up the order she was working on, fixing her shirt before heading out the door. 

The sound of a door opening draws Rafe’s attention and his heart stops at the scent of vanilla he hasn’t smelt in five years. Even if it was only one night, he has been haunted by the wearer of that scent for years. His eyes land on her and he can’t believe he gets to see her again. Her smile is still as brilliant. Y/N heads behind the counter to get an apron and his insides collapse in on himself as he watches her smile dim at his sight. He doesn’t know why she would be upset at him. She was the one who left in the morning without a word. Suddenly, the face on his watch needs to be constantly adjusted.

As Y/N exits her office, she has to stop herself from screaming at the man sitting in the booth. She could never forget him; a living reminder of him literally came out of her vagina almost four years ago. Fear creeps into her brain. The only possible reason he could be here after all these years is because of that living reminder.  With the resources he has, he would most certainly win custody over Stella and Y/N couldn’t allow that to happen. But maybe he doesn’t know about her. If he did, then wouldn’t it make more sense to bring a lawyer with him? She decides to find out why he is really here first before she goes on the defence as she walks over to take his order.  

“What are you doing here?” she grits through bared teeth. He gives her a confused look, “I had a meeting with clients. I thought I would stop to get something to eat before heading back to the Outer Banks.”

Her expression lightens up at his words. “So you aren’t here to see me?” His head moves from side to side, “No. I mean that night was amazing, but I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I’m just hungry.” He notices that her eyes keep glancing towards the clock and the nail of her thumb is being gripped by her teeth. He wonders why she looks so worried all of a sudden. 

“Okay, good. I mean cool. What can I get you? A burger? Salad? Pie?” 

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, Buttercup. Why are you in such a rush? Aren’t you going to get my drink order first?”

“Right. Of course. What can I get you to drink?”

“A coffee, please.” 

Rafe had never seen a woman run away from him so fast before and he has got to say that he is offended. He doesn’t know what he did to garner such a reaction from her, but he vows to make it up to her. His hand goes up to his mouth, so he can check his breath. Smells fine. The mug of coffee is quickly placed in front of him and she practically forces him to give her his food order right at this second. 

Y/N hands the order to Patty in the kitchen, “Pat, I need you to focus on this order, please. Get it out first and as fast as you can.” The older woman’s eyebrow shoots up. “That’s a little unusual, but I can do that for you, honey. Can you watch the other food then for me, please?” she asks. Y/N does as asks and makes sure the chicken tenders in the fryer don’t burn. Patty gets Rafe’s food done in a jiffy and Y/N takes it out to him. She stays behind the counter, looking between the clock and Rafe eating every so often. She swears she has never seen someone eat so slowly. He has to be doing this on purpose. He can feel her gaze on him and he has pieced together that something must be coming that she doesn’t want him to see. His curiosity gets the best of him, so he decides to make this lunch last.

The jingle of a bell above the door catches his attention. He turns to see a little girl run into the diner and round the counter to the woman standing behind it. “Mommy,” she screams, jumping into Y/N’s arms. With a clear view of the girl now that she is being carried by her mom, Rafe can now see her in more detail. 

The long locks that frame her face are the same muddy blonde colour as his. Her eyes match his ocean-blue ones. And she definitely inherited the shape of his lips. He tries to do the math in his head. He isn’t great at guessing kids’ age. She looks about three, maybe four. So four years plus the ten months of pregnancy, that child is almost certainly his. He feels like his world is falling in on itself. How could he not know that he had a little girl? Did she know she had a daddy? He promised himself if he ever had a kid that they would never feel the same way about him as he does about his dad. But he did one step worse by not even being in his daughter’s life. Anger starts to fill him and he knows he needs to find a way to manage it before he lets it out on the wrong person. 

“Stells, what are you doing back so early?” Y/N questions her grinning daughter, moving the hair out of the girl’s face. She nods along to the explanation about daycare ending early today, so Mrs. Winters dropped her off early. Her eyes are focused on Rafe and she watches as he pieces the puzzle together. She observes as he slaps money onto the table, quickly making his exit. “Shit,” the mother whispers. “Can you go to my office, please? Mommy will bring you a snack, baby.” Y/N makes sure Stella is making her way to the office before running after Rafe. Her feet slap against the concrete and she spots him entering his truck. She goes to chase after him, but he drives off in a blink of an eye.  

——

He had a daughter. He had a little girl that he could cherish and watch grow that she kept a secret from him. He doesn’t even know their daughter’s name. His anger fills him to the brim and he needs an outlet to get rid of it. The white powder in the small baggies calls to him, so he rushes to his coffee table. He draws the cocaine into lines and brings his nose down to snort the powder. The drugs start to affect him; his judgement starts to be clouded. 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to dial a number, “Barry, I need you to find an address for me.”

——

“So how was daycare, Stella?” Y/N questions her daughter, cutting up a cucumber for a snack. Stella runs up to the counter, “It was good, Mommy. I got a rainbow sticker for being a good girl.” The girl pulls at the front of her shirt to show off the sticker on it. “That’s great, Baby. You must have worked hard today to be a good girl. I’m proud of the effort you put in. Now, why don’t you go get ready for your snack? Mommy is almost done getting everything ready,” she suggests, moving on to get the cheese cut. Stella yells an okay and runs to the bathroom. 

The hard knock on the door reverberates around the open floor plan of the small house. This stops Y/N in her tracks and she goes to answer the door. When she sees who it is, she tries to shut the door in his face, but his foot stops her. “How come you didn’t tell me I had a daughter?” he growls, pushing his way into her house. His force causes her to stumble backwards and luckily, she is able to catch herself before she falls on her bum like on the night they first met. She shuts the door, turning toward him, “I was going to tell you. But by the time I found out I was pregnant, I had already learnt the type of person you truly were.” 

“The type of person I truly was? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Can you keep your voice down, please? She is just down the hall.”

“What do you mean?” he snarls, approaching her so they are chest to chest. The dark look in his eyes and the towering figure over her should’ve scared her. She can see the abnormal size of his pupils, so she knows he is high. However, she can’t stop thinking about the man that she met. Not about the stories of his anger issues or how he beats people to a pulp. Not about how he not only does cocaine but sells it at parties too. All she can see is the man who lost his button and ranted about how his father is an asshole. Passing the anger of her hiding Stella, she can see the sadness he feels about missing out on her life so far. Yet, the fact that he shows up at her house, high and yelling while Stella is there causes her to feel her own fury as her maternal side starts to show. 

She stands straight, taking a few steps forward that makes him walk backwards, “What do I mean? I mean that I found out that you not only do drugs, but you sell them. I found out that you beat people up who aren’t in the same financial circle as you. I found out that you have anger issues that you don’t seem to want to change. Rafe, you weren’t the type of father I wanted for my daughter.” Seeing such a sweet person say all those vile but true things about him sends a pang through his heart. 

“You never gave me a chance to change! I would’ve done anything for her if I knew she existed.” 

“Really? Because from where I’m standing right now, you are proving me right. Look what you did when you found out about her. You didn’t try to talk to me like an adult. You went out and got high then barged into my house demanding answers.” 

“You know what? All of you bitches are the same. You think that you are so much better than everyone because you don’t do drugs or get angry. Well let me tell you something, you are just a poor slut who got pregnant on purpose to have a permanent cash cow. You aren’t better than me. You are just better at hiding it than me.”

The volume she was about to talk at was not one she had ever used before, but she wasn’t about to let him talk about her or her daughter like that. “GET OUT! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN UNLESS YOU HAVE A LAWYER WITH YOU!” She storms toward the door and throws the door open. Rafe didn’t think someone with such a nice personality could be so loud. It helps bring him back to reality and he realizes what he just did. His shoulders relax with his anger. He looks at her sadly as he follows her pointed finger out of the door.

Y/N shuts it once he is out the door. She runs her fingers through her hair, giving a tug to the end of her roots. The frustrated sigh she lets out is the only sound in the room until a small voice catches her attention. “Mommy, are you okay?” Y/N turns to her teary-eyed daughter and concern floods through her. She rushes to her, bringing her up to rest against her hip. Her forehead rests against the younger girl’s temple, “I’m okay, Stells. Mommy isn’t hurt, just angry. Are you okay, Baby? I know hearing Mommy yell might have been scary. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Stella’s arms circle her mother’s shoulders and she gives her mother a kiss on the cheek as comfort. “I’m okay, Mommy. The scary man is gone now. Who was he?” 

Y/N wishes she could pretend like there was no man, but Stella had obviously seen Rafe. There is no denying it. Y/N just has no idea who she wants Rafe to be to her daughter. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii

[killsaki]

final girl. ☆ surely all the girls being murdered in your town having something that fits your own description is a coincidence… right?

izuku midoriya x female!reader

4k words | part 2 (tbp)

cw/tw : yandere!izu, quirkless/loserboy!izu, stuttering, stalking, drugging, thighfucking, facial, male masturbation, noncon, somnophilia (kinda), alcohol, oc side character, kidnapping, murder (mentions).

“you’re not seriously going out, are you?” comes from your doorway, you turn towards the voice in just enough time to catch sight of your roommate inviting himself into your room, as he always does, before plopping himself down on your mattress.

you sigh before answering, knowing he’s about to spout some of his repetitive nonsense.

“of course i am, fuzen.” he blinks at you with his usual unamused expression, heterochromatic eyebrows slightly raised in a way that you’ve come to learn is a signal for you to ask more about what he’s saying. you take the bait. “but, why do you ask?”

“you’re the target of that serial killer.” you purse your lips at his immediate and dramatic response to stop yourself from laughing, you really shouldn't entertain him all the time. he’s mentioned a few things that could probably cost him his job for disclosing the, in his words, eerie similarities, that you have had with all the victims of recent murders.

it started with things like how they all had your eye color, or that they were all described to have your height and build. you passed those off as generic things, but fuzen didn’t. it spiraled into things as specific as one of them having your hair. well, their hair, but it was the same length as yours, the same color, and her body was found with it styled with the same way that you’d fallen in loved with and wore repeatedly that week. one girl was found with copies of the jewelry that you frequently wore, another even had her nails done almost exactly like your new set.

the longer it went on, the more insistent your roommate became about you listening to what he had to say. but you always changed the subject, figuring that the less you know the easier it’ll be to shake off the cold feeling on your back you sometimes get after leaving the apartment.

“i thought you were a stealth sidekick,” you laugh him off, yet again. ”when did you get demoted to a detective?”

“why does your room feel weird?” he asks suddenly, adjusting his sitting position like he’s been made uncomfortable while he looks around your space. “has someone been in here?”

“uh, yeah, me.” you suck your teeth at him before turning back to your vanity and get back to finishing getting ready.

“why don’t you believe me?” he asks, you can tell he’s a little irritated and it makes you feel bad for always brushing him off.

“‘zen… i know you care about me, i’m sorry.” you meet his gaze in the mirror, finding him already looking back at you. “maybe you’re just overthinking because you care about me?”

he nods slowly, before cracking a grin and shaking his head, “nah, i’m probably just jealous because i don’t have a stalker.” he rolls his neck and you wonder how much truth is in his words. “though i’d probably prefer it without the murder.”

“i don’t have a stalker.” you retort while he chuckles to himself before standing.

“you know,” he stretches his arms, fingertips touching the ceiling as the hem of his shirt lifts to reveal his toned stomach, something you quickly look away from. “that habit of immediately denying stuff that you’re anxious about is gonna bite you in the ass one day.”

his mouth is good at keeping you from being attracted to the rest of him.

“but not today,” you speak matter of fact, “because i do not have a stalker.”

“right, yeah.” he sniggers, clearly not believing a word from you. “didn’t you say you felt like you were being followed home the other night? you should think harder on the description—”

“anyways!” you cut him off, knowing that he’s not going to stop talking unless you make him. sometimes you’re not sure if he actually likes having conversations with you or just the sound of his own voice. “shouldn’t you get back to tying some red thread between the pictures and articles hung up on your wall mr. detective.”

“fuck off.” he flips you off from where he’s now lurking by your dresser, leaning against it as he’s focused on checking his phone. “i know you think i’m joking, but they put me on the west end so i’ll be patrolling over by the party if you–”

“oh! my rides here,” you lie, jumping up to slip past him and out of the conversation. “so, i’ll text you when i make it back home since you’ll be on patrol and i won’t see you again tonight, right?”

“wait!” he calls after you, annoyed by your sudden escape, as you slip on your shoes. “text me if something happens with your ride and i’ll walk you back!”

“bye, fuzen!” you yell back, walking out the door. “love you!”

/// /// ///

maybe… fuzen wasn’t just talking to hear his voice. maybe, there’s a small possibility that you do have a stalker.

you could chalk it all up to your roommate giving you anxiety about the whole situation, or that you’ve had a few too many already. but you can’t deny the fact that from the moment you stepped out of your apartment building until you climbed into your ride’s car, you felt something watching you.

it was a hot gaze, a familiar one. it could’ve been a neighbor, you reasoned to yourself as you waited for kirishima to arrive, and that theory sounded best as you repeated it to yourself at the party, laughing with him and his friends and downing drink after drink. until the chill on the back of your neck reappeared, despite how warm your blood is from the alchol. and no matter how much you looked over your shoulder to try and find some kind of source for it, there just wasn’t anyone there.

“you good?” sero asks when you fail to reply to your name being called.

“huh?” you turn to him to find the whole group looking at you with concern, your face flushes at how ridiculous you must look, being so skittish. “oh, i’m fine,” you force a laugh, hoping it seems genuine. “think i just had a little bit too much.”

“no sweat.” kirishima nods towards the glass door behind him and you try to ignore how sero and denki exchange glances. “let’s go get some air.”

“yeah, okay.” you hope the earth swallows you whole as you follow behind him.

you regret coming, regret not shutting your door while getting ready, regret letting fuzen talk his mouth off at you for so long about it. you’ll chew him out about it tomorrow.

you take a deep breath as you walk out the glass door, kirishima’s large palm rubbing soothingly on your back helps settle the nerves. there’s a comforting warmth that takes over the anxious heat as you lean into him.

“sorry i’m being weird.” you mumble as he guides you into his chest, melting into him and the sound of his steady heart beat.

“you’re fine,” you feel the arm holding his cup raise, the pause between his words meaning his downing the rest of his drink that smells way too strong. “don’t worry about it.”

the two of you sway for a bit, his arms around you and your head on his chest with the muffled music as ambiance.

it could be blamed on the alcohol but in this moment, you’re thankful you have kirishima. thankful for how it took absolutely no time at all for you to get comfortable with him, how it felt like an instant connection when he silently prompted the two of you to play tictactoe in the margine of your notes. something that quickly snowballed from passing messages to walking you back to your dorm, and then hang outs as his frat house.

he’s always offered himself as a stress relief for you, making sure you’re comfortable while you’re with him and pressing you about it any time that you seemed tense. there’s been a few awkward moments where you thought he’d tried making a pass at you but he’s always been quick to clarify. plus he’s so warm, like… really warm. his arms feel like a blanket around you. god, how is someone so big and bulky also so soft? you could probably fall asleep like this, surrounded by him.

“hey.” you’re pulled from your thoughts, and from where you were tucked into him. “you knocking out on me?”

“sorry.” you giggle, at his ever playful expression. “you’re just so comfortable.”

the smirk on his face is a harmless one, you think. and it’s awfully pretty.

“bakugou needs me at the beer pong table.”

“i don’t need you, fucker.” you hear the blonde shout from where he stands at the door. did he yell at him before too? “they just don’t want me to embarrass them by beating their asses by myself.”

kirishima laughs. ”you stayin’ out here?” you hesitate, but nod. you feel better, but the thought of facing his friends again so fast is a little too intimidating. “i wont let anyone come out here and fuck with you.” he squeezes your hip before chasing his friend inside. “come watch me when you’re ready!” the redhead calls to you from where he now hangs out the door, his toothy grin clear as day even from this distance.

you only wave back, your dizziness telling you it’s not a good idea to raise your voice right now.

you let yourself stumble back against the wall before pulling your phone out. you try three times to call fuzen and it immediately cancels before you realize you have no service where you’re standing. you curse under your breath as you push off the bricks and force your legs to carry you around the corner of the house. finally a full bar of service, you have to focus on the blurry phone icon while your thumb finds its way there.

why is everything so hard?

you manage to fumble your phone before you’re able to start the call. it feels like there’s a brick in your skull with how heavy your head becomes as you bend over to reach for the device. just as your finger tips touch your screen, there’s big, rough ones which grab at your hips. you don’t have time to scream before your arm is wound behind your back and used to press you against the brick of the house. you lose any hope of grabbing your phone and yelp as your chest and cheek sting at the harsh contact. your vision spins as you blink in the dim light, you can’t even make out the shape of the person behind you.

”don’t scream.” the stranger speaks in your ear, though slightly muffled, it still makes you freeze all the same. the adrenaline delays the recognition of the cold blade at your back, a knife. how were those girls killed again? you immediately nod, further scraping yours skin against the jagged edges of the brick. fear courses through your veins as he takes hold of your free arm and brings it back with the other, wrapping a large hand around both to keep them in place.

you try to plead with him when his knife moves from your back, the threat of it gone, or maybe all the alcohol making you bold enough to speak.

“i haven’t seen your face.” you whisper, hoping it was low enough for him to allow it. “you don’t have to kill me, you could just let me go.”

“let you go?” he asks, surely it’s your intoxicated mind, but he sounds genuinely confused, almost hurt by your words. “i can’t,” he mutters and you whine as your heart hammers in your chest. “i f-finally have you.” you hear the man sigh behind you before he presses his face into your neck, you can hear the echo in whatever metal he has wrapped over his face as he inhales deep against your skin and your body instantly reacts with chills shooting up your spine. “you smell so good.” he begins to pant as his free hand gropes at your body. “so m-much better than any of them did.”

“please… don’t,” you beg when he reaches your breast, where he squeezes it just enough to hurt before clumsily rubbing his fingers over your nipples through the cloth.

“but i knew you would.” he continues as if you didn’t speak, as if your words don’t matter. “you’re the b-best, the only good one, only you.”

his hand drags from your chest down to your waist where he starts to struggle with your bottoms. and your eyes begin to feel with tears at the inevitable.

“please just let me go.” you try again, hoping for just an ounce of pity. “i really won’t tell anyone.”

“i’m sorry.” his body pressed up against you, shoving you farther into the hard wall, ”i’m sorry, angel,” you finally realize just how much bigger the man is than you. “im just–i can’t stop. i need you.” his grip on your arms disappears as he opts to use his large stature to keep you pinned, with both of his hands to work your bottoms down to your knees before he’s humping against your ass. “i wanted to wait– wanted our first to be special.”

the deadweight feeling at the back of your mind aches to takeover, the dizziness, the fear, the effor it takes for you to just breathe right now it far too much, so you succumb to it all– making you completely helpless. all you can do is stand there and hope he’ll let you go once he’s had his fill. not that it’s easy, there’s bile churning in your stomach when you hear the click of his belt, feel the shuffle of him tugging his own pants down.

you have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from crying when you feel the heat of what has to be his cock prodding between your thighs. the only thing keeping any distance between its heat and your most vulnerable parts is the underwear holding the last bit of your dignity together. but once he wraps his arms around you—which squeeze you so tight you think you’ll burst— and he angles you so your hips stick back enough for him to rub between your thighs while pressing up against your cunt, you’re sure you’ll throw up regardless.

he, however, groans at the contact. “s-so warm.” you can hear him begin to pant as his hips start rhythmically pressing into yours, the force alone enough to jolt your body against the wall. “f-feel so good.” you can taste blood as you hold back your sobs. it feels like an eternity passes, each groan and inhale against your nape makes you more nauseous until your body has had enough.

being pushed too far from the fear, the drinks, and the pain, it causes you to collapse on yourself. everything seems like it fades as you fall slack in the stranger's arms. maybe if you die while unconscious, it’ll be okay. at least you won’t feel the pain.

sounds come in and out like you have bad radio service, your eyes too heavy and body too weak to get a good sense of what’s happening, but you hear—

“t-this? my girlfriend drank too much s-so i’m j-just—“ comes from somewhere around you, somewhere close.

“awww!” you hear, whiney and dragged out from some girl who definitely had more than you tonight. “you’re such a good boyfriend for babysitting.” your heart aches when you try to fight, to move, to scream and you’re far from successful.

“i wish my boyfriend let me drink that much.” if you could just tell one person what’s happening, if you could just show even a little bit of struggle, someone could save you. “you’re even carrying her! so cute!” if someone could just see your face, maybe they’d see that this is not who you arrived with, someone could tell kirishima. “you guys get home safe~!”

you feel like a boulder is set on your chest, the weight of your failure weight bearing on you when everything’s quiet again.

/// /// ///

you don’t know how much time passes before you’re able to bring yourself out of your useless state until you’re finally able to blink your eyes open and take in your surroundings. it’s all blurry at first, but the furniture in your line of sight slowly starts to resemble that of the setup you have in your room. there’s your vanity, your nightstand, this is your comforter, a weak smile works its way onto your lips.

you could cry from the relief. whatever happened, whether it was all a dream or something you won’t be able to remember, you don’t care. you’re home.

you toss your head back into your pillow, taking in a deep breath, catching the smell of what's likely your own sweat before you try to stretch your arms out, the needles stabbing into your hands making you feel the need to shake them to fix your blood flow. but they don’t budge, and the sound of metal clanking makes you shoot your eyes open and then you feel it.

your grogginess to blame for you not being able to the cuffs that encase them before. nor the sinking weight that kneels beside you, a large figure looming over you looking that much more daunting with the light behind him illuminating only his towering figure as he hunches over you, huffing and whining with his cock only inches from your face.

your lips tremble when the false sense of safety washed away and you look up past the movement of his hand, slowly taking in the dark green mess of hair that falls around his face, the chunky metallic mask that causes each of his heavy breaths to be echoed before you meet his eyes, the wide, terrifying green gaze that burns back at you makes you wish you were still unconscious.

“o-oh.” he’s so loud as he shoots out his load across your face and the bare parts of your chest, thick and hot where it lands. you cringe as your name is chanted off his lips and you squeeze your eyes and mouth closed, not wanting to let yourself be any more violated than you already feel. your head pounds as you feel the urge to cry, but you can’t seem to force yourself to.

“i didn’t—i didn’t finish earlier,” you hear him mutter above you, “and it hurt—looking at you,” a hand smoothes along your hairline, making you jump at the contact, and he retracts. “s-sorry… you’re just… so pretty.”

“can i…” he starts and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to answer if he actually asks you a question. “can i take a picture? it’ll only be for me, i promise.”

“please…” your voice is weak and you have to try and gather some spit to swallow to allow yourself any more volume. “don’t…” your request is sure to be ignored, he’s seemed to do whatever else he’s liked.

“you’re r-right,” you feel the mattress rise once he disappears from beside you, “another time.”

you try to test your voice again, you’re not sure how long it’s been since what you can last remember, but if fuzen wasn’t on patrol, he’d be in bed. if only you could scream.

“i’ll clean you up, is that o-okay?” you don’t reply, only tense when the warm cloth wipes at your skin. “sorry, again. i feel like such a pervert.”

you open your eyes again once they’re clean, and staring at your curtains, you try to think. you can’t even speak, can’t move, can’t fight. how long are you going to be so helpless?

“are you okay? i know i probably scared you…” you wish you could scoff. “could you at least look at me?”

you don’t move to face him, not wanting to look into those horrifying eyes again. just the thought of him, next to you now, staring at you with them makes you shudder with fear.

“look at me.” he grips your jaw, reminding you how big his hands are as he forces you to turn towards him. you avoid meeting his gaze. not wanting to know if it’s just as piercing as before, instead, you take in the green mess of curls, how they stick about and fall into his face. you can see him staring at you, but still, skip over making eye contact and make out the freckles at peek out from behind the metallic mask that seems to be slipping, making you close your eyes again.

if there was any small chance of you getting out of here alive, there’s no way you can see his face.

“hey–”

“your mask,” you whisper, and his grip loosens as soon as you speak.

“oh,” he mumbles back. you can hear what you guess is him toying with it, but you realize as you peek up, was him removing it. “guess i don’t need this.”

with his face fully revealed, you can feel yourself sinking into acceptance of your fate.

“you’re staring…” you can visibly see him swallow, his eyes darting between yours and the floor. “am i attractive?” a soft smile grows on his lips at him complimenting himself as if you’d really said it. “i’m happy you think so.”

“i have a roommate,” you speak, voice cracking.

“what?” his eyebrows drawn together, face set in a scowl before he pushes himself from your bed. “you need some water.”

“he’s a hero.” you try again, even as he walks away and you’re sure you’re out of earshot. “a strong one, and he’ll be home soon.” you pick your head up to watch him throw the door open, and all of your hope for your roommate saving you drains as you stare down a hallway that doesn’t belong in your apartment; you’re not home…

if you saw any typos, no you didn’t !!&lt;;33

reblogs + asks + feedback appreciated !

[trashmouth-richie]

𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗

pt 2 of do you like the way the water tastes?

eddie x fem!reader

summary: eddie walks you home but doesn’t do what you expect, when you try to confront him it doesn’t go as planned.

Your work shoes were rubbing at your ankles, friction from the water and the inability to never really feel dry after spending the afternoon at the pool, prevalent on your reddening skin. 

  But you could care less. 

  Eddie and you had been walking home in small awkward silence for the last ten minutes. Every once in a while his boot would crack a rock down the sidewalk and you’d kick it back to him, playing again, like children. 

  The silly boy at the pool with you was now being coy, rosy cheeks hiding behind a curtain of curls when your knuckles brushed his while you walked. 

  He clears his throat a few times, maybe the chlorine was making his throat scratchy? Or possibly his bravado fell once the two of you were alone?

  Either way, you focused on the way his fingers went to his mouth to bite the nail in a nervous habit, the click of his tongue ring on the back of his front teeth in another little routine for him. The noise makes your belly burn. so you break the ice.

  You bump into his shoulder, one hand twirling the ends of your hair, the other taking advantage of the heated skim of his skin on yours, “really had me fooled at Benny’s.” 

  he chuckles quickly, exasperating a small snort that he covers with a cough, “ ‘m sorry, probably should have said something better than that— just thought you’d like to ditch work and swim with me— I mean us.” The pretty blush creeps across his cheeks again and you can’t help but grin. 

  “Well,” you joke, stretching an olive branch out to him, “I’m glad your sick little plan worked.” 

  The heat creeps up to his ears and he chances to look down at you. Your smile widens and his gaze has you turning away, suddenly sheepish. 

  His eyes never leave you, but his better judgment stops him from grabbing your hand.  “yeah,” he manages, hot tongue licking his own lips. Daring to stare at the way the sun catches on the slope of your nose and sweat beads on your cupid’s bow, “lucky me.” 

  —

  “No kiss or anything?” Stella squeals through the end of your phone a week later. 

  Eddie had walked you all the way to the door of your apartment building. The small talk was sweet along the way, and you thought when he paused on his way to leave and looked at your lips that he would lean into a kiss. 

  But he never did. And you felt stupid. 

  Surely he’d ask for your number? 

  But he didn’t do that either.

  Instead he leaned into the door frame, ghosted his nose along your chin and whispered into your ear, the same clink of his tongue ring on his teeth, “see you around, sweetheart.” 

  What probably took a matter of 5 seconds lingered on your skin for hours. His smell; all chlorine and cigarettes. The way his cheeks burned in a crimson tinged tan from the sun. 

  It was intoxicating. 

  Addicting. 

  And you were left confused. He had almost kissed you at the pool… so why was he shy when you were alone? And even worse, silent. 

  “Nancy Drew couldn’t crack this case,” you explained to your best friend, “I thought we would… I don’t know.. go out? Maybe sneak a kiss?” 

  You were annoying yourself. Why was this bothering you so bad? It’s not as if you had a ton of boyfriends in your lifetime, but you knew when someone was flirting. 

  And Eddie Munson was laying on the charm, hot and heavy. 

  “Maybe he has a girlfriend?” Stella quipped, “maybe he was just letting you down easy?” 

  Sweet Stella was always so genuine, she'd tell it to you straight but deliver it in sugary goodness. And even though she was sweet the words cut you like a knife. 

  “Fuck, who knows, I gotta go… see you at work?” 

  She says her goodbyes and you slam the receiver down, the ding satisfying to your ears. 

  Was Eddie playing you? Your stomach twists at the thought and you nearly kick yourself for letting him get the best of you. You didn’t even know him enough to be this upset. 

  Pushing him out of your mind the best you could for the rest of the afternoon you wait tables, pocketing next to nothing in tips because you won’t crack a smile. Coffee stains your apron, and ketchup coats the toe of your shoe, the smell making you gag in disgust. 

  Anything and everything that could go wrong at work did. At least to you. Stella and Dawn seemed to be having a great shift but you were brooding in your own head about the audacity Eddie Munson had to not even call, or have the balls to tell you that he wasn’t interested. 

  Being led on was worse than rejection. And this stung horribly, wedging the stinger into your chest further with every huff of annoyance you let out. 

  Stella’s smile cheers you up, her uniform cinching her curves in all the right ways, her pockets nearly bursting with loose change and folded bills in tips.

  “Maybe he’s shy?” She says over a shared cigarette in the back near closing time, her brain had been working overtime trying to make you feel better. 

  Shrugging your shoulders you scoot onto the plastic bucket you’ve used as a chair since starting at Benny’s junior year. “I dunno Stell, I feel like a giant fucking loser.” 

  It was true, you hadn’t heard anything from him since he walked you home. You even made an embarrassing call to Gareth to see if you would bring Eddie up. But he never did. You were annoyed with yourself for giving a shit when clearly he didn’t. 

  “Well how about this,” she says sliding down next to you, “I’ll close up tonight and you go home and rest. No sense in feeling like shit  and being at this dump .” 

  —

  The drive back to your apartment is short, and hot, the air conditioning that hasn’t worked all summer in your car suddenly driving you mad.  The old radio that fuzzed and only came clear in one station decided to quit indefinitely right in the middle of your favorite song. 

  Before the transmission is thrown into park, you’re on the verge of screaming, and when the key sticks in the ignition you slam your hands into the steering wheel. Could this day get any worse? 

  Frustration brews when you finally finagle the key just right so it pops out of the vice and your elbow catches the dash, hard. The last straw. 

Smoldering tears well in your eyes, but you swallow them down. And it’s in that moment that you decide you need answers right the fuck now. 

  —

  Forest Hills Trailer Park was on the outskirts of town, nestled up against a vast, thick tree line. You didn’t know which trailer was his, taking a chance on a tan one that had a van parked out front that looked similar to his. Only to be embarrassed beyond belief when an old lady with missing teeth and tight curlers cursed you out for interrupting Oprah, a slam of her shitty screen door in your face. 

  Stomping down the steps you narrowly avoid a nail on the second step. Causing you to lose your balance and topple over into barely-there grass covered lawn. Face first into the dirt.

  Great. 

  The drag of soil  and the pull of grass snapping from the earth rings into your ears and shoves under your nails as you scrape your hands on the yard of lot 11, pushing yourself up. 

  The first rogue tear slides down your dirty face and you don’t even bother to wipe it away. Simply shifting to sit on your butt while you dust gingerly at the gravel and fresh blood from your knees. 

  You were wrong before: today could get worse. Much worse. Coffee, ketchup, grass and dirt all paint your work uniform. You were a mess. A pissed off, mess. 

  You hear your name in a question. And when you look up there he is. The one you had been searching for. Standing above you with a concerned expression, trying hard to hide a grin. He’s wearing a bandana around his head, the pungent smell of grease and sticky oil wafts to you when the wind picks up and he gets closer, a socket wrench gripped lazily in his hand. 

  The dirt on your cheek and bits of twigs stuck in your hair only add to the messy glamor of how you already looked. But Eddie can’t help but stare, the same heat in his cheeks and swimming in his stomach from the day at the pool when you look up at him, tears ready to fall. 

  “Didn’t know Miss Jeanie had a granddaughter,” he says with a slight tease, “thought she was too damn mean to ever be married.” 

  When the scowl set on your face didn't budge he changed his tone, shifting his weight from laid back and almost cocky with a hip out to standing like he was getting scolded. Both feet locked in place and his head down, shoulders sagged, peeking at you through his bangs, he stammers, “a—are you okay?” 

  A loud sniff leaves your body as you shove yourself up from the ground, not seeing the hand Eddie threw out to help you, “yeah,” you spit, wincing slightly as the bend in your knees stretches open the broken skin, “just peachy, I try to spend my Saturdays falling down the steps of some rickety ass trailer in hopes of avoiding a nail through my foot.” 

  Eddie only stares, mouth set in confusion as he tries to think of a quick reply, something witty, maybe something to make you laugh, but you don’t give him the time. 

  Turning on your heel, you stumble over a rock but catch yourself. Again, not seeing the way Eddie had ran forward with an outstretched hand to help. You’ve never been more mad and embarrassed in your entire life, and all you wanted to do was get the hell out of here. 

  It’s not until you have the door of your car open does Eddie register what he wanted to say, “what are you doing here?”

  It comes out wrong, accusing compared to the way he thought it would fall flirty from his lips. And you’re stunned, the tears falling freely now. 

  “Fuck, I mean— shit—” he stutters through his explanation, tongue tied and twisting in on itself, “n—not like ‘what are you doing here?’ but…” embarrassment works up his neck and hides on the tips of his ears, “I—I meant, Uhh— shit, d’ you need a band aid?” 

  The tears make clean streaks down your face and you wipe at them angrily. “N-o I don’t need a f-frickin’ bandaid, Eddie!” You needed a hot bath, a nap, a fucking cigarette; anything but this frustratingly awkward conversation with you resembling a bum and Eddie looking like a Greek Mechanic God.

  “Well, you’re bleeding,” he emphasizes and points to the bloody scrapes on your knees. 

  You knew they were bleeding, they stung and burned with each step you took, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of helping you out. 

  “I’m f—fine,” you stutter.

  “Shh, c’mon sweet girl,” Eddie says, closing the steps between you both and shutting your car door, his forefinger curled to catch a tear from dripping down your cheek, “lemme clean y’ up and then you can tell me what brought this cute little face down to the slums.” 

  You had come here to give him a piece of your mind, demand to know why he was so hot and cold. Instead you had made a fool out of yourself, and were a blubbering mess. 

  —

  Eddie’s trailer was the one next door to Miss Jeanie’s. Misjudging the yard his van was parked in as hers, you silently kick yourself as you follow him up the three steps leading inside. 

  His trailer is welcoming in a young bachelor type of way. Comforting outdated trinkets, guitar amps and cords strewn across the surfaces— keeping the dust and empty beer cans company.

  “Sorry,” he says, picking up some beer cans and tossing them into the trash, “roommates a slob, have a seat Uhh— wherever,” he says gesturing around with his hands and disappearing down a narrow hallway. 

  You look around and take a seat at the table, “didn’t know you had a roommate,” you call out, looking around the small cluttered living space. Tapes and magazines cover the small table along with a faded green homemade ashtray filled almost to the rim. 

  Eddie comes bounding back down the hallway, carrying a small first aid kit and a washcloth, “I don’t,” he quips, delivering a wink that has your stomach somersaulting. And when he notices the heat rise on your cheeks, he gives you a toothy smile in an attempt to hide his own blush. 

  And it was like no time had passed. Like he hadn’t been avoiding you for a week, but rather that you were still swimming in the cool blue water of the pool, kissed by the warmth of the sun and his arms around you when he pulled you in. 

  His thumbs trace the edges of the kit in a nervous habit, “Alright, let's take a look at those knees,” he looks from you to the kitchen counter, “do you uh.. here—” with a sweep of his arm he shoves the magazines and scattered tapes in a dusty cardboard box and tossed it on the table, “sit up here.” 

  Quirking an eyebrow at him, you give him a puzzled expression, which he answers with a laugh, “Dr. Munson needs to be able to see what he’s doing.” 

  For the first time since arriving in the trailer park, you let out a small smile, “doctor huh?” you question hoisting yourself onto the counter. 

  Eddie works beside you filling a bowl with warm water, “shyeah, I’m the band's primary caregiver,” he explains in a mockery tone, “even gave myself stitches a few years back after hiding from the cops when Jeff’s party got busted.” 

  He extends his pale arm towards you brandishing the silvery crook of a scar on his forearm, “twelve stitches, not the prettiest thing but it did the job.” 

  The air of your giggle was exactly what he was looking for, and his dimples dip into his cheeks with a smirk, hiding behind uncombed curls. 

  Thick fingers open the lid to the kit and he pulls out the old packages of gauze and bandages. Dipping a washcloth into the warm water he whistles a tune you haven’t heard, wringing the cloth out, the water splashes gently into the bowl. 

  He glanced over at your cut knees and winced, “not gonna lie to you, ‘s gonna hurt like hell.” 

  Nodding with a sniffle you quietly say, “I’ve had scraped knees before… doctor.” The grin he tried to hide spreads and tickles the corners of his eyes. 

  “Just want my favorite patient comfortable,” he says leaning into the joke.

  “Favorite or only?”

  His laugh is loud and boisterous, a thousand leagues away from his gentle touch on the delicate raw skin as he presses the cloth carefully around the scrapes and cleans the wound. 

  “Both,” he says, looking up at you through the thick black weeds of his lashes, holding your gaze for a second longer than he should have, pushing the limits. “Ya gonna tell me what you were doin’ playing in the dirt by my trailer or should I guess?”

  “I— I was,” you think quick of a lie, but you almost tremble when his head lowers and his curls tickle the tops of your bare thighs, the feeling sends prickles of goose flesh in its wake. All senses on overload, and you squirm when his warm hand sits atop one of them. 

  “I heard that there was a place to rent here, and well yeah if you must know— I was researching that information for Molly and Gareth.” 

  The sensation is quick lived as he hurriedly empties the bowl and struggles to open the bandaid package, using his teeth instead and spitting the paper to the floor.

  “Really?” He questions, in almost a whisper, after expertly placing the bandaid over the cut. Leaning with palms on either side of you, his stare is playful, “cause Gareth told me they already found a place.” 

  Your blood runs cold and you can smell the brine of sweat on his bandana as he gets closer and boxes you in. Stuttering out a phrase somewhere between, ‘I-was-looking-for-my-other-friend’ and a muttered gasp, he only laughs. 

  The same click from his tongue ring you heard at the pool on the back of his teeth as he clucks his tongue sang in your ears, you’d do whatever you could to hear that again. Shaking his head, he looks at you with the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen, “you sure about that?” 

  Here he was again, laying it on thick and juicy. But two could play this game. 

  “Yeah,” you counter back, leaning forward into him, not giving him the upper hand but wanting to tease him— unable to forget the week of silence. 

  Whispering and curling your lips close to his ear you can hear the way he shudders, “thanks for the bandaids Doctor Munson,” your breath fans on his skin, and you ghost your lips across his cheek, “but, I gotta go.” 

  You didn’t. But the satisfaction of having him close and then you being the one to to push him away was fucking satisfying. 

  Eddie scoffs and pushes off from the counter, crossing his arms across the stained front of his once white shirt, “Two lies from those pretty little lips, sweetheart you’re just asking for trouble.” 

  “I’m not lying,” you say innocently, hopping down from the counter and walking towards the door, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

  You were. 

  “That's three,” he says, eyes following you like he was lost. The flirty vibe he had been giving was falling away from him. 

  Turning the knob you glance over your shoulder, “looks like I’m out.”  

  In two long legged strides he’s beside you, pulling the door shut with a big hand over your own, his face looks almost flustered like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of you, “Go for a drive with me.” 

  “No,” you sing-song to him looking at your bare wrist as if you were wearing a watch, biting back with a teasing hint of venom of your sour attitude, “it’s late, maybe next week.” 

  He snorts a laugh and the dimples he had tried to hide earlier appear, making you almost melt into the worn linoleum. 

  “Ahh c’mon Pinocchio,” he teases, reaching to your cheek to brush a smear of dirt from it, “maybe a little fresh air will help you remember why you came here in the first place.” 

  “I’ve already ridden in that death trap on wheels, screw boy,” you say pointing a finger into his chest. 

  He crowds you again, licking his lips and biting his tongue ring through his perfect teeth to show you the silver bulb. 

  “Oh baby no, we aren’t driving the van,” his fingers wrap around the hem of your sleeve on your work uniform and he looks down at you with a devilish grin, “we’re taking my bike.” 

tag list: @em-guitar-pick @joejoequinnquinn @raven-rust @hiscrimsonangel @josephquinnsfreckles @strangerfreak @bebe07011 @b-irock @chloe-6123 @whenshelanded @take-everything-you-can @mandyjo8719 @parmawiolets @mommybaby-witch @hellfirefiend @nevermoreraven1 @emmaisgonnacry @secretdryrose @eddiemunson4life420 @littlegingerbat @tlclick73 @definitionwanderlust @yvedesi

[jenniferjareauwife]

r has a bad habit of biting their fingernails and picking at the skin around them, and jj always prevents it by holding r’s hand and letting them fiddle w jj’s fingers instead. she has to do it at least three times a day🥲

You've Gotta Stop

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader

category: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

word count: 819

summary: you pick your nails and the skin around them when you're anxious so your girlfriend helps you and calms you down

My leg bounced as I picked at my nails. This case had been going on for far too long and the body count was stacking way too high. Were we ever going to solve it or were people just going to keep dying? Were we really making a difference or were we just making everything worse? "Y/n?" I heard JJ's soft voice in my ear.

"Hm?" I turned to look at her with an anxious look on my face, still picking at my nails.

"Take a breath honey, it's ok." She put her hands over mine to stop me from picking. I took a deep breath and leaned closer to her, wanting everyone's eyes off of me. "Let's go somewhere private, yeah?" I nodded and stood up, letting her lead me to an unoccupied conference room. Since her hands weren't in mine I started picking again, eventually drawing blood.

"I need a band aid." I mumbled. JJ pulled a few out of her pocket, knowing that I usually needed them while we were on cases.

"You've gotta stop that honey. You're hurting yourself." She tucked my hair behind my ear while I put on my bandages.

"I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry." I started pacing around the room, trying to pick my skin around the bandages. "Why can't we figure this out why can't we-"

"Sweetheart. It's gonna be ok." She put her hand on the small of my back and caressed it with her thumb.

"How do you know that?"

"Because it's always ok. When have we not solved a case?" I shrugged. "See? It's gonna be ok. You've gotta stop picking at your nails though, it's really not good for you."

"I'm sorry." I mumbled.

"I know."

"I can't help it, I just do it."

"I know honey, I know." She pulled me into a much needed hug and I tried my best to just relax into her. "Just a few more hours and then we can head back to our hotel room, ok? Just a few hours." I nodded and tightened my grip on her.

"Can we stay here? I don't want to be around everyone else." I mumbled against her chest.

"I'm sorry babe but we have to go back with the others. We have to do our job." I groaned and buried my face into her further.

"I know." She kissed the top of my head. "Just hold on for a few more hours."

Three hours later we were back at the hotel and I was back to picking at my skin. JJ was on her laptop so she didn't notice until a few minutes later. "Come here." I moved closer to her with an anxious look on my face, one I always seemed to have the past few days. She held my hands in hers and rubbed her thumb over my knuckles. "Just play with my fingers, ok?" I nodded and leaned into her, immediately starting to fidget with her fingers. We stayed like that for 20 minutes and I was finally starting to calm down. JJ had been giving me kisses all over my face while I held and played with her hands.

"I'm sorry." I whispered.

"For what?"

"For picking my fingers. I know it's super annoying." I sighed and looked down at her hands.

"Hey. Look at me." She grabbed my face gently to turn me to look at her. "It's not annoying, ok? Everyone deals with anxiety differently and that's just what you do. Is it healthy? No. But we can work together to find something else that helps you that isn't hurting you in the process, ok?" I nodded and leaned towards her so she could plant a kiss on my forehead. "Do you know what it is about this case that makes you so anxious? I've had to stop you at least five times today honey."

"Just...don't know if we're ever gonna solve it. What if we're hurting more than we're helping?" I shrugged and started playing with her fingers again, feeling my anxiety creep back up on me now that I was thinking about it again.

"How would we be hurting more than helping?"

"We haven't caught him and now he's probably figuring out how to stay under the radar since we're onto him. If we don't catch him soon...the case might go unsolved and he can just keep killing for the rest of his life." She shook her head.

"That's now how that works."

"You don't know that." She raised her brows after my retort and I quickly apologized. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok. Let's get some rest. You definitely need it." I nodded and watched as she laid down, resting my head on her chest and still holding her hand in mine so I could play with it if I needed to. She kissed the top of my head and gave my hand a soft squeeze. "I love you."

"I love you too."

[mschoiyuki]

Fragile

Nanami Kento x F!reader

Sometimes Nanami also had a bad day and you will always be there to comfort him.

tw : comfort. SFW

wc : 1.8k

It’s pitch black when you arrive at home. It’s already 7pm and your husband hasn’t come home yet. That’s so unusual, Nanami always comes home before 6pm.

You switch all the lights up, puts away your belongings and get ready to make dinner. Your phone rings when you wash your hand. Nanami’s name pops up on the screen.

“Hey honey, not done with the mission yet?” You put on speaker so you can prepare the dinner.

“Hey, sweetheart. I think I’ll be a little late tonight. But I’ll be on my way home soon.” Nanami voice sounded a little bit ragged.

“What happened, Kento? Where are you now? Are you okay?” You pick up your phone and put it on your ear, biting your nails, pacing back and forth.

“I’m okay, just a little injured. I’m at Jujutsu High right now getting treatment from Ieiri - san. It’s nothing serious, darling. Stop biting your nails.” Nanami try to calm you down.

You pause and stop biting your nails, been together for too long makes Nanami knows your every little habits. “Do you want me to pick you up, honey?”

“Ijichi will send me home, don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” You can hear Nanami hiss from the treatment he gets from Ieiri.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you. Be safe, Kento.”

“I will, darling. Love you.”

“Love you too.” As you hung up the phone, you try to distract your mind from the news you just heard with trying to make dinner. It’s really so unusual for Nanami to get injured from work, because he is Grade 1 after all. Does it involve with the recent accident? You can’t stop biting your lips now as you try to making dinner.

Minutes turn to hours, when you hear the front door being open you run to greet Nanami. As soon as Nanami sees your face he still gives you smile. Then you see Nanami clutching his stomach, “How bad is the injury, Kento? Show it to me.”

“No welcome home kiss for me, sweetheart?” Nanami caress your cheek, still trying his best to hide his injury from you, he doesn’t want to make you worry.

You sigh and scowl at him, but still tip toeing to kiss his lips for his welcome home kiss, “Come on, let’s sit first and let me see the injury, Kento. I want to know how bad it is.” Nanami takes off his shoes and slips into the home slippers, he takes your hand and follows you to the kitchen.

You slowly sits Nanami on the bar stool, and starts unbuttoning his blue shirt carefully, you furrow your eyebrows when you see the big patch at Nanami’s right stomach. You reach his cheek and caressing it, “What happened, Kento? How did you get this wound? Is this has anything to do with the recent accident?”

Nanami slither his arms to your waist, bringing you closer to him, “Yes, it’s the same curse that does this. Itadori - kun and I finds the culprit, I told Itadori - kun I would handle it, but in the end he also saved me from the curse. The curse can perform Domain Expansion, and I trapped in it. Although I ashamed that I had a thought to give up. I’m sorry, darling.” Nanami looks up at you, his eyes glassy with the tears that forming.

“Why are you sorry, Kento? It’s okay. Don’t be sorry, we all know the risks as sorcerers.” You still caress his cheekbones, looking into his hazel eyes.

“I know that thoughts is hard for you, what if I really gave up and leave you alone?” Nanami tighten his grips on your waist.

“One of us could die from missions, we talked about this before. And yes, the grief is hard to handle. But it’s the risks we take as sorcerers, right? To save human from curses, even though they don’t know about it.”

“Yes, you’re right, darling. But the worst part is…” Nanami pause, and looks away from you.

You pull his face towards you, “What is it, honey?” You look into his eyes, searching something behind it.

Nanami let out a defeat sighs, “The worst part is, the transfigured human, that the culprit transformed human into curse, they still have a lingering feeling as human. They cried and asked help from me, darling. Ieiri - san said that we had to kill them, that’s the only way to help them. But it feels so wrong. I don’t know what the purpose of being a sorcerer if we have to kill human.”

You stare at Nanami with wide eyes, can’t believe with the information that he just shared to you. But one thing you know, Nanami is feeling torn and weak right now and he needs all the support from you. Because whenever you are feeling down from works or from other silly things, he will be there for you. He will give his all for you, his times, his attention, his love, just for the love of his live in a heartbeat. And you will also give everything for him too in a heartbeat, no doubt.

“Kento, I know you will choose a safe way to save them if there’s a way. But this is beyond our control and yes the only way to stop this is to defeat the culprit. Don’t be so hard on yourself, honey. I know you really try your best for them, and I know they must be thankful for you because you helped them, freed them from their misery. So don’t look on the negative side, because there’s also a good side from it. Isn’t it like we also help them as human, honey? Hm?” You wipe Nanami’s tears at the corner of his eyes before it can roll down.

Nanami place his hand on yours that caress his cheek, he leans in on your touch, “Yes, that’s may be right. I just can’t help this uneasy feeling.”

You sighs and smile, you peppered his face with kisses. His forehead, his temple, his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, and lastly his lips.

Nanami tighten his hold on your waist and chuckle, “What’s that’s for, darling?”

“To distract your minds.” You give him a quick kiss on his lips again, “Despite everything that happened you’re doing good, Kento.”

Nanami sighs and hug you tightly. You kiss the crown of his head and lean your cheek on it. One hand rubbing his back and the other caressing his scalp.

“Go take a bath, Kento. Should I help you?” You pull away and check his wound again.

“It’s okay, darling. I can manage it.” Nanami slowly stand up and groan from the pain, you hold his hand to support him. Nanami kiss your temple and head to bathroom. And you start plating the dinner for both of you.

While you wait for Nanami done with his shower you prepare his pajamas and brings a new patch, walking to the bathroom sitting at the vanity holding the hair dryer

When Nanami walks out from the shower holding the towel around his hips and another towel at his head and sees you waiting for him, he chuckles and ruffling his hair.

“Come, Kento. Let me dry your hair so you won’t catch a cold.” You pat the gap between your thighs, ushering him to come close.

“I’m so lucky to have you, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’ve become if I’m alone now.” Nanami stand between your thighs and place his hands on it, rubbing your thighs slowly.

“I’m always here for you, Kento. Through ups and downs. Isn’t that our vow?” You smile and ruffle his hair with towel and starts drying it with hair dryer, sometimes gives his scalp a massage.

“All done. Handsome as ever.” You giggle and give him a quick peck in his lips.

Nanami leans his forehead to yours and reach your cheek, “Yes, darling. Through thick and thin. In sickness and health. Thank you for coming into my life.” Nanami graze his lips with yours and he gives you a slow, deep kiss. As he pulls aways he gives your forehead another kiss.

Is it because Nanami coming home with a wound or the atmosphere is making you mellow, his words makes your heart tingle, “Now let’s change the patch. I know Shoko - san gives you the best treatment for you so I don’t have to worry, but we still need to change the patch, right?”

You jump down and tells Nanami to leans on the sink and you slowly peel the patch and grimace when you see his wound. You apply another ointment before wrapping it with a new patch, “I already bring your pajamas. I’ll wait for you at dining room.” You kiss his cheek and walk out from the bathroom.

Dinner went well and both of you decide to rest since today is a little bit chaotic for you and Nanami. The worrying tired you out, and the fight and wound also drained Nanami's energy.

Nanami groan when he lay down, he stretch his arm to you so you can lay with him. You carefully lay on his chest and put your hand on it.

Nanami let out a long relieve sighs and tighten his grip on your arm, "I really glad that Itadori - kun saved me. Even though I know the risk as sorcerers, I still want to spend my life with you." You looks up at Nanami and find him gazing at you with his usual loving eyes.

"Don't say something negatives, Kento. I don't want to imagine it. I just glad that you are coming home safely." You propped yourself up on your elbow.

“Should we just retire and go to Kuantan, darling? Enjoying the beach there. Sounds good?” Nanami caressing your back, giving you an apologetic look for saying something to makes you worry like that.

“You think Gojo will let you retire so early?” You chuckle as you brush his hair with your hand.

“Well he is the strongest, I think he can manage it. Thank you for today. You are the best thing that I ever had, my love.”

“I’ll always have your back, Kento. Like how you always there for me.”

“I love you, sweetheart.” Nanami pulls you down so he can give you a kiss, a slow deep kiss that he always give you to remind you how much he loves you.

"I love you too, Kento. More than anything." You slightly pull away and mutter the words, you lean in again to kiss him and you can feel Nanami smiling against your lips.

From the outside Nanami might looks so strong and reliable, but deep inside you know Nanami has a very soft and fragile heart. That's why you will be always there for him whenever he feels down, just like how he will always be there for you when you are at your worst.

Even though it's just a small gesture, Nanami really thankful for you being there for him. Because he can feel your love through your small actions.

dividers by : @saradika-graphics

[deadguywalkin]

seb+sam+alex hcs because i am STILL gay and extremely evil + some pre t seb hcs because… sigh

( sam+alex centric!! aside from the last part )

cw: dramatic switch from ‘yeah alex and sam are traumatized’ to ‘sam likes boobs’. that pretty much sums this up. (minimal nsfw and most of it is jokey)

jewelry:

alex: minimal. no rings or bracelets because they get in the way. ‘does sam’s pick count? c’mon, i’m an edgy boy too!!’

sam: medium. face piercings and some rings

sebastian: not actually that much, but he only wears silver. gothic necklaces of dragons on swords, silver rings, and the likes. maybe even a blood vial.

hands:

alex: missing his whole index finger?? big big hands with some little scars. engulfs whoever’s hand he’s holding.

sam: calloused fingers, tiny scars from hurting himself a lot on accident. he has very shaky hands. also has his little memory bands

sebastian: thin fingers and careful, steady hands. chipped black nail polish. there is more of a reddish tint on his knuckles.

—————

sebastian carries bandaids on him because sam is an idiot and alex is also an idiot (they’re not idiots they just have 0 spatial awareness)

alex wears sam’s guitar pick as a necklace. i refuse to draw him without it

alex carries their band equipment when sam whines about being too lazy to do it

seb never gets scared during horror movies or any horror experiences. however samalex are gripping onto each other like they’re about to die

alex cannot bear to watch super violent graphic stuff for obvious reasons. sambastian will always skip those parts ahead in movies for him because they already know. not that he can’t do it himself, but it’s just a small gesture.

alex is a huge ‘i’m sorry, did i do something wrong? I’m really sorry. you can tell me if i did.’ kind of guy when the vibes are off. he just has a fear of being useless or annoying and needs to be reassured.

sam needs to be reassured that he doesn’t have to always take care of everyone or constantly be the emotional support beacon. he also needs some support and to take a break!!

sam just has his best friends memorized by heart. ‘you were gonna ask abbie to hang out..? bro, don’t you know? she’s gonna have a headache tomorrow.’

sam has a habit of biting at his lips, ‘my mouth gets bored!

samalex are insanely emotionally intelligent, compassionate and understanding even if they’re not all there. they’re more tender and sweet when it comes to someone opening up and just know exactly what to say and what they need to hear.

on sebs end, he’s pretty bad at reading people and understanding everyone even if he’s smarter than the other two are. he’s quick to get it but doesn’t know how to comfort people and is more of a chill ‘oh.. that sucks, dude. me too, anyways, wanna light a blunt and talk about it?’ kind of guy

^^ he’s only good at that stuff when it comes to understanding books/movies/music. that’s where it’s over for samalex (sam aside from the music part

“what are you watching?”

“a 6 hour commentary video about sonic.exe”

“adventure time!!”

“black mirror.”

“oh..”

(sam has a short attention span but locks in when it comes to commentary videos about random niche shit)

pre-t trans seb down here

alex to pre top surgery seb: “c’mere.. stress balls”

post top surgery seb to alex: “c’mere.. stress balls.”

sam just enjoys having his face stuffed in boobs. doesn’t care wether they’re pecs ‘boobs’ or regular boobs.

seb is confident in his gender pre t or not. he’s more of a ‘i genuinely believe and know i am a man’ than a ‘i want to be a man’

..as confident as he is and as much as he loves them, he feels a slight resentment to samalex because he just feels this hint of jealousy and insecurity around them. they’re just such big representations of masculinity. it makes him feel a little sick that he feels that way because he knows he should love and appreciate them for being patient, he just can’t help it. he will find himself comparing them to him.

sebastian randomly showed up at sam’s house on a random night when he was younger and came out to him before he asked for help cutting all of his hair off. he already had his emo shag but ended up keeping it 

seb has a hard time remembering to take his binder off.. though it makes him feel better in his skin, his ribs are about to explode.

cuddling and then a hand just reaches up and.. squeeze (seb doesn’t even question it)

this ones a bit of a shorter dump;p

[d-romanov]

Do you do like self harm reader? Maybe wandanat are together and have adopted or just taken in a 16 year old 🤷‍♀️ idk am in one of those moods but I get if it makes you uncomfortable or triggers you or something!

Love your writing btw!

even when we're goin' under.

[ 1.2k words ]

[ natasha x teen!reader ]

summary: it's a bad habit, but it helped at first and now you can't stop. natasha offers comfort and understanding.

notes: hi! ty so much for the prompt 🫶 sorry i took so long to write it. this fic leans more towards vent fic and i definitely won't write things like this often. i switched it up a bit cause that's just how i wrote it. so, sorry no wandanat this time

TW!!: semi-graphic descriptions and discussion of self harm, past abuse (hydra/the red room it's vague)

this fic is heavy!! please don't read if you're triggered by self harm. stay safe and take care of yourselves ♥️

It started with an itch.

A small biting at the back of your neck, the sides of your arms, the inner sides of your thighs.

It wasn't a real itch, that you knew, but you were compelled to scratch anyways.

It always happened after a long day. The stress and overload of your senses would hit at the end of the day, and you felt like ripping your skin off.

The biting never went away. No matter how hard you scratched, your dull nails never did enough. A nervous habit of biting your nails left them too short to do any real damage to your skin, even when the itch felt bone deep.

There were other times it would start up again. After a particularly clear nightmare, a flashback to a kill you had no conscious part in. The guilt sunk your heart to your feet and filled your veins with poison. Burning and itching and begging to be released, begging for relief.

You found your relief, of all places, while cooking. A misguided blade chopping vegetables had nicked your hand, and in the bite of pain and rush of blood your skin stopped burning. You hadn't thought about it too hard in the moment, but when the itch returned later you finally had a way to get it out.

--

It went on for a few weeks. Far more than you intended.

It was a temporary solution, a quick fix. A messy fix that layered you skin with more scars than had already been there, but they felt better.

It was easier to reconcile to new marks on your flesh, because these came from you. Not a beating or a fight or experiment of any kind.

No. These new, thin, horizontal lines along your shoulders were purely your creation.

It was stupid. A terrible habit, bordering addiction because you just couldn't stop. Every time, that same burning itch came back, practically with a vengeance. A burning, blistering want to be released, for the guilt to be acknowledged, for some self punishment?

You no longer understood why it happened, just that it did and cutting yourself dulled the feeling and cleared your head.

--

You tried to hide it, for a while, but you were caught out eventually.

You didn't know what had changed, what part of you has suddenly raised alarm in Natasha's eye, but she was somehow even more perceptive than she usually was.

You'd always been close with the redhead, since the day you entered the tower. She got you through the hardest parts of adjusting, the loneliness of a widow adjusting to a semi-normal life. She cared for you like her own child.

So really, she'd be the first to notice your withdrawing. The baggier shirts with longer sleeves, the subtle hunch, the flinch when something grazed your shoulders. Of course she knew something was wrong.

--

It comes to a head one day. You've locked yourself in the bathroom after a nasty night terror left you panicking for the better part of an hour. Hastily cleaning and covering the new cuts on your arm. The sting of antiseptic grounds you and the smell of it drowns out the smell of iron.

You reach for your discarded hoodie when you hear a knock at your bedroom door. Your heart rate picks up.

The only person who would be at your door this early in the morning would be Natasha. The only person in the tower who's so in tune with your feelings well-being that she has to know what you've been doing almost daily for nearly 3 weeks.

"y/n? Honey, I need to talk to you."

A few more tries and your bedroom door opens. You quickly throw on your hoodie but you can't bring yourself to even unlock the bathroom door. Natasha is just outside. You hold your breath.

"y/n?"

"Yeah?" You ignore the croak in your voice.

"Can you open the door?" She asks softly.

You don't want to, but you're so tired of hurting. You shakily unlock the door and open it, not meeting her eyes. Unconsciously, you tug your hoodie sleeves over your hands.

Natasha doesn't say another word. She barely moves, she just breathes softly and keeps her body relaxed. You feel like crying.

You blink and traitorous tears escape your eyes. Natasha brings her hands up slowly and pulls you in. The rough feel of fabric pulls against the fresh cuts on your shoulder and you flinch as she pulls you in.

"Oh, детка."

Your breath hitches and you fall into her arms. She squeezes you tight to her chest while your body is wracked by silent sobs.

"I-, I'm sorry," You can barely get the words out, but you need her to know. You need her to know you wanted to stop and you couldn't because even when you felt better you still felt awful and it never helped. "I tried to stop. I-I wanted to-"

"I know, малыш, I know." She sits the two of you on the bed behind her, stroking your hair and never once letting go.

You just sit for a while. Natasha's solid form and gentle words of encouragement help to calm you down. Enough to pull back, wipe the snot and tears from your face and prepare yourself for her inevitable questions.

"Can I see?"

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. You hesitantly pull off your hoodie, and Natasha reaches out to help when the fabric catches uncomfortably on still-drying blood.

You feel exposed while Natasha moves to your bathroom. She comes back out with your first aid kit but you still refuse to meet her eyes.

You know what she sees. Angry lines of red, criss-crossing over old and new scars. In the back of your mind you hear a voice like Madame call you weak minded.

Broken.

With a tender hand, Natasha treats your self-inflicted wounds, cleans them softly and kisses each new bandage. She presses one final kiss, feather-light on your forehead. You let your tired body fall into her again.

"I know it feels good, in the moment," Her hands comb through your hair again, smoothing and braiding it mindlessly. "It doesn't really last though, does it?"

you shake your head, butting her chin lightly in the process.

"I can't ask you to stop, I know it doesn't work that way," You feel her take a deep breath and you copy the motion. "But will you tell me? The next time you feel the need?"

You shrug, because you truly don't know. "I'll try." It's as much a promise to her as it is to yourself.

It's really the best you can do, in the moment, and Natasha gladly accepts the answer.

Later, when you aren't so emotionally and physically drained, Natasha will sit you down again. She'll talk you into therapy, or at least to trying it out. She'll help you process your guilt, your grief, all with a steady hand holding your wrist. A promise not to let go.

But for now, Natasha pulls you under messy covers and holds you close, humming an old Russian lullaby as you settle against her.

As you drift off, you hear one more promise.

"I'm always here for you, y/n. I'm not going anywhere."

[notmorbid]

cuckoo.

dialogue prompts from cuckoo by gretchen felker-martin.

i've never liked my daughter.

something in my life, in my home, is very wrong.

are you going to cry now?

can i do anything to make it up to you?

you have every right not to trust me.

i just want to stop hurting you.

it's okay if you can't believe me.

it's so easy not to trust success when we've grown used to failure.

our hearts want what's familiar.

you think i'm that shallow?

you weren't supposed to follow me.

am i dead? did i have a stroke?

i bet you're pretty angry right now.

this is something that happens in horror movies.

you don't want to try so you won't be able to fail.

i don't want to have to be brave.

my grandma says i don't know when to shut up. i guess she's right.

i hope that bite gets infected.

you're like a cat. you only want what you can't have.

you think the world owes you something just for waking up.

there's something cold between my mother and me. something ugly.

___ doesn't love me. doesn't love any of us.

hey, you okay?

what, are you gonna narc?

this is real. it really happened.

something's really wrong. i'm not crazy.

i wish i looked like you.

have you been having nightmares?

i don't know how, but we have to get out.

something bad is happening. something is wrong.

it was nice to forget, for a minute.

what do you know about surviving on your own?

hoping for anything better is just daydreaming.

i'm going to become someone you can be proud of.

what happened to you out there?

i'll give you my address. we can keep in touch.

being tough doesn't mean shit. it won't save you.

you'll never be alone again.

am i dead? is this hell?

take a walk.

this seems like a sad place.

this is how people die in horror movies.

it feels like someone is watching me.

it felt like the kind of thing good people were supposed to do.

you said i'm brave, so i must be brave.

i want to be nailed to a cross and burned. and i want everyone to think how beautiful i look, and how sorry they are.

don't worry. i'll show you how i like it,

are you here with me? is this real?

i'm here with you. i'm here.

everything feels like it's moving too fast.

living means making sense of what happened.

you're the tom cruise of fucking up.

i would have done anything. believed anything.

what would you do with my face? my life?

aren't you tired of being afraid?

go. i'm right behind you.

aren't you tired of being so strong for everyone?

i told you i wasn't lying.

nothing will ever feel normal again.

it felt like you were with me.

if you don't have anything useful to say, just shut up.

can you do anything but run your mouth?

are you going to finish that?

i can practically hear you blushing.

do you like me? i honestly can't tell.

i'm sorry i couldn't protect you.

what did they do to you?

feels like you don't want to see me.

do you have a lot of thoughts like that?

you have me confused with someone else.

fuck you. i've got my own problems.

it wasn't a dream. i can't pretend anymore.

you're not going to hurt me. we're the same.

do you even care how i feel?

are you going to start crying now?

trouble in pussy paradise?

you look like a movie star.

you look so different.

what if the drugs don't work?

smoking is a dirty habit.

nobody cares. no one is coming.

you really haven't changed that much, have you?

i didn't want to come, and i still don't want to be here.

how did you do this alone for so long?

no credit cards. we can't leave a trail.

it's like picking glass out of bathwater.

i'm so sorry. for everything.

do you think we have a chance?

would you ever try again? with me?

i keep thinking of you. i'm always thinking of you.

if i die, no one will miss me.

we bring out the best in each other, when we aren't ruining each other's lives.

i'm so scared, i'm not even angry anymore.

people are dead because of me.

we're all going to die, aren't we?

i can feel it. they're close now.

it wants us alive.

let's start some fires.

i love you. be good.

i'll take you home, if that's what you want.

i can't sleep in the city.

[peterbarnes]

Maybe Season 2: Chapter 2

Summary: You work at the TVA as an analyst. Every day is the same- boring case after boring case- but your entire life changes one day when a new variant shows up.

Word Count: 4k

Catch up on season 1 of the series!

A/N: She's a long one - thanks for your patience. In this chapter, we dig deeper into the reader and Sylvie's unique relationship dynamic. Lowkey proud of the character/relationship development.

The chaos of the world faded away as he held you.

The TVA no longer shook, Mobius wasn’t running around like a madman with O.B., the universe wasn’t collapsing. How could it, when you were holding your universe so tightly you thought you would break his ribs? 

You had feared his anger, his resentment - mostly because you knew you deserved it. But Loki didn’t hesitate to gather you in his embrace, arms twisting tightly around you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

“I missed you, too,” you whispered back.

“I’m so sorry,” you both blurted simultaneously.

Loki pulled back from you, chuckling with that mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said, caressing your cheek. “You were only doing what you thought was right.”

“So were you.”

“And, about Lamentis -” he started.

You knew what he really wanted to say: ‘About Sylvie.’

“Let’s not talk about that now,” you interrupted. 

The image of He Who Remains flashed through your head. The memory of him telling you about the nature of Loki and Sylvie’s relationship. All mere hours after Loki told you he loved you for the first time. You subconsciously rubbed your chest at the heartache. 

“We have time,” you continued. “Right, now I’m just happy to be back here.”

Loki’s smile faded to a grimace. You watched as anxiety invaded every inch of his body. He started to bite his nails, but you slapped them away from his face before he could do any damage. 

He shot you a look that read: really?

“Bad habit,” you told him.

As a distraction, you slipped your hands into his. He interlaced your fingers before pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 

“We might not have as much time as you think, my dear.”

Suddenly, the ground between you and Loki split open. The two of you shot back in opposite directions. The TVA shook violently underneath your feet. Your home was being destroyed in front of your eyes - monitors falling to the floor, screens cracking, windows shattering. 

The TemPad in your pocket shot out bright sparks. You shrieked, racing to grab it from your pocket and throw it aside. As soon as it fell to the TVA floor, it exploded, with pieces of metal flying everywhere. A piece of shrapnel was inches away from your face when it suddenly froze, surrounded by a bright green mist. Your eyes turned toward Loki whose hand was outstretched. 

“Nice catch,” you said.

The shrapnel fell to the ground, and Loki rushed over to you. He soothed his hand up and down your forearm, and a chill ran down your spine. 

Slowly, the ruckus in the TVA simmered until it eventually stood still. 

“I need to show you something,” Loki said softly. 

This can’t be good.

- – -

You stared out the glass of the observation room. Dox’s bombs had turned the timeline into a horrifying sight. Pieces of pure time floated away into the ether, the lives of those in it forever lost.

What if one of them was where you were originally from? Before the TVA kidnapped you and wiped your memories. You might’ve lost everything, and you wouldn’t have even known. 

“So you need He Who Remains’s aura?” You asked, not taking your eyes off the timeline.

“Yes!” Said the chipper voice of O.B., who stood behind you at one of the computers. 

“How are we supposed to find him? He didn’t exactly exist in the normal constraints of time. Is there even a past variant of him to find?” You ran circles in your head through all of the variables, all of the possibilities. Nothing made sense, not anymore. 

“Renslayer’s working with him - I heard them,” explained Loki. “Casey’s working to track her TemPad, so wherever - or whenever - we find her, we find him.”

“This is such a mind fuck,” you scoffed in frustration. 

“Tell me about it,” Mobius laughed. 

You jumped as the doors of the observation room opened, slamming against the wall. Casey ran in frantically, TVA guidebook in one hand, TemPad in the other.

“I found her.”

- – -

“I don’t mind a nice skirt, but this corset is eating me alive,” you wheezed, pulling at the fabric across your stomach.

“I, for one, think you look rather stunning,” Loki flirted, shooting you a wink.

“Charmer,” you teased.

“I can’t take you two anywhere,” Mobius groaned. 

The three of you stood in Gilded Age clothing on the streets of Chicago. While the 1800s were hardly your favorite era from the timeline, it was beautiful up close.

Mobius walked ahead, but your and Loki’s steps fell in sync. You linked your arm with his, briefly leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but -”

“Loki -”

“I need you to know how much you matter to me. You. No one else. Never anyone else,” he hollered loudly. Passerby stared at the two of you, whispering to one another. 

“Apologies,” Loki said to them, tipping his tophat. 

“I know you care about me Loki, but if you feel the same way for her…” you trailed off, unsure of what you would do. You didn’t even want to think about the possibility of his head turning. 

“I don’t,” he exasperated, as if the words pained him to hear. “I thought I was going to die on Lamentis. I’d faced death before, but there was always a way around it. There wasn’t then - I was staring into the face of an inevitable apocalypse. Neither of us were thinking straight and all I did was hold her hand. It was for comfort and reassurance. Not lust, not love, not even affection. All of my affections are reserved for you.”

He put his hand over his heart, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no hesitancy or distraction. The eye contact made you squirm internally, consumed by the bright blue swirls. 

“I believe you,” you whispered, softly smiling at him.

Loki’s eyebrows shot up, almost like he was startled.

“Really?” He asked in disbelief.

“Why is that so surprising?” You chuckled, pushing a stray strand of raven hair behind his ear. 

“People rarely trust my word,” he said, slowly grabbing your hand from his hair. “God of Mischief and all.”

“I trust you, Mischief,” you said.

I’ve never said that to anyone before. 

His eyes glazed over as he smiled at you. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.

“I trust you, too.”

“Hurry the hell up!” You heard Mobius yell from down the block.

You and Loki burst out into laughter. He rarely laughed - it was a beautiful melody to hear.  

“Come on then, lover,” you said, pulling on his hand. “We have a fugitive to catch.” 

- – -

The three of you had split up, searching the festival for any sign of Renslayer or He Who Remains. Loki and Mobius had wandered off to this magic show by a man named Victor Timely. You, however, decided to walk around the grounds, searching the ins and outs of the crowd. 

You smiled at the sighs. Children running freely, laughing with their friends. Families spending quality time together, sharing drinks and popcorn. Couples who got lost in their own little world. You wondered if Loki looked at you the way those men looked at their partners. 

Everyone looked so happy. At peace and unaware of the coming war. These were the people you had sworn to protect. It was one thing to watch over them from the prison that is the Citadel, but to see them face-to-face was glorious. 

A little girl with blonde hair parted into pigtails ran up to you and crashed into your legs, squeezing them tight. 

“Oh!” You startled, looking down at her. “Hello there.”

You bent down to the girl’s height and waved. She waved back with her chubby little fingers.

“Are you alright?”  

“She wants to see you,” the little girl said.

“Sorry?”

“She wants to see you,” the little girl repeated. She was so young, her teeth hadn’t even fully grown in. She smiled at you with her gums. “Go to the ferris wheel.”

“Who wants to see me?”

She opened her mouth, as if she was about to answer, but shut it quickly. She giggled before running off into the crowd. 

It was like the air had turned cold. Every bone in your body told you not to follow. 

Run. 

But, before your mind could come to a decision, your legs started to move. You ran after the girl, ducking and dodging between people. The girl ran up the steps of the ferris wheel, disrupting the line of people who were waiting to ride. You ran into a few of them, and could hear their angry calls from behind you. 

Once you reached the ferris wheel platform, you went to grab the little girl’s arm to stop her, but your fingers went right through her. You pulled your hand back, before reaching for her again. It wasn’t real - she wasn’t real. Then, she disappeared right between your fingers.

“I know illusions are more Loki’s thing, but I knew you sure as hell wouldn’t have followed me.”

You whipped around to see Sylvie leaning against the rail of the stairs. She looked different than the last time you’d seen her - which, coincidentally, was also when you tried to kill each other. She had grown her hair out into a mullet and ditched her traditional Loki armour for slacks and a long green jacket. 

“Well, you’re right about that,” you retorted. 

The air was tense between you, but you could tell she wasn’t here to fight. Her eyes held a level of despair and loneliness you knew all too well. She wasn’t even holding a knife, which was a rare occasion.

“I mean you no harm,” she whispered.

“I know,” you started. “Look, I’m sorry. About everything. That wasn’t how I wanted it all to happen.”

Sylvie bit the inside of her cheek as she stared at you. You could’ve sworn you saw tears build up in her eyes, but she never let them fall. 

Stubborn girl.

“You don’t have to say it back,” you added. “I know you’re-”

“I’m sorry, too,” she blurted. 

“Is that the first time you’ve apologized to someone?” You asked, chuckling. 

Sylvie shrugged, unable to hide the smile on her face.

“I mean, I’m not sorry about trying to kill He Who Remains. After everything he did…to everyone, to me. What did you expect me to do - believe him, trust him?” she sighed, trying to contain her frustration. “But I shouldn’t have hurt you. I never meant to hurt you, you must know that.”

“I do,” you whispered, nodded profusely. “I shouldn’t have hurt you either.”

You walked toward the blonde, drawing her into a hug before she could protest. She didn’t hug you back, but she did drop her head onto your shoulder. 

I’ll take it. 

“I really am sorry about what happened,” Sylvie said, pulling back from the embrace, eyes pleading with you. “And I hope you don’t hate me for what I’m about to do.

“What -”

Suddenly, footsteps boomed up the stairs and screams pierced your ears. A man emerged from the line, tripping over the stairs, and falling onto the platform. He stood up clumsily before rushing over to you and hiding behind your shoulder.

“What are you doing?!” You scolded, shoving the man off you.

“Victor!”

The familiar voice echoed throughout the platform as Loki entered your view. He pushed past people, running over to you and the man, prying him off of you. Loki held the man up by his collar, towering over him.

“Don’t touch her,” Loki threatened. “You’re clearly very good at getting away-”

You caught a glint of emerald in your periphery. Sylvie had drawn a blade from thin air, pointing it at the throat of the clumsy man.

“Sylvie!” You and Loki both shouted.

Loki moved in front of the man, shielding him from his variant. He held his hands up, trying to reason with her.

“Sylvie, no,” he spoke. 

“You stay out of this,” she snapped.

Using her magic, she lifted the man and Loki off their feet. She threw them backwards into one of the ferris wheel cars. She marched over to them, with you right on her heels. The car door slammed behind you.

You ran over to Loki, who was lying on the floor, clutching his side. You slipped your arm around his torso, sitting him up. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, moving the hair out of his eyes.

He nodded, gripping your waist as he stood. 

“Just wait,” he said to Sylvie. “Just wait one second!”

The blonde woman inched toward her prey. 

“You’ve done enough,” she spat. “Now, get out of my face and let me finish my job.”

She swung her blade ferosiously toward Loki. Instinctively, you pushed him out of the way. The blade met your shoulder, cutting through your dress and across your skin. You cried out in pain, gripping your shoulder. Blood dribbled down the fabric of your arm, painting it a gruesome red.

Sylvie’s eyes widened, and she stepped back, dropping the blade to her side.

“No, no,” she whispered to herself. “I’m sorry.”

Loki looked at your arm in horror, and in a blind furry, summoned all his magic. With a flash of bright green, Sylvie had flown back into the window. The glass crunched at the impact, slowly cracking as she fell to the floor. 

Sylvie growled as she pushed herself to her feet. 

“When you showed up out of nowhere to ruin my life,” she yelled at Loki. “You asked me what I would do if one of his variants turned up. And I told you then, I’d kill him.”

Confusion prickled your mind, and you knew you had missed a step. You turned to look at the strange man Sylvie had been trying to kill.

“Oh my god.”

You had been so distracted by the chaos, you’d never looked at him - really looked at him. Behind the glasses and the large hair, it was clear as day. He Who Remains stood before you.

“It’s not him,” Loki said. “[Y/N], my dear, meet Victor Timely.”

The strange man awkwardly adjusted his tailcoat before bowing his head at you.

“Pleasure,” he greeted. 

“Uh huh,” you said, frozen in shock.

“Look, Sylvie,” Loki said. “We need him. Without his help, the TVA will be destroyed.”

“Good. Let it burn. Do you care about anything but the TVA?”

“Of course I do!” He shot back, eyes flickering toward you. 

“The TVA,” Victor stuttered, grabbing something from inside his coat. 

He pulled out a small orange booklet and started flipping through the pages. The TVA guidebook.

“How did you get that?” You asked him. 

He didn’t get a chance to answer before Sylvie lunged at him again.

“I know you just want to be left alone to live a life on your branch,�� Loki stopped her. “I understand that. But if the loom fails, and the TVA is destroyed, there won’t be a life to go back to. Not for you, not for anyone.”

Sylvie clenched her jaw. 

“It’s true,” you chimed in. 

Sylvie looked at you and you saw some of the fight disappear from her body. 

“We can’t fix this without him,” you continued. 

“Stopping that place from being destroyed and fixing it are two very different things,” Sylvie told you. “And working with one of his variants is not going to get you either.”

It was like she was pleading with you, begging you to be on her side. But this wasn’t about sides - it’s life or death. 

“Your machete hasn’t solved any problems thus far,” Loki sassed, and you slapped him on the arm. 

“Cut it out,” you whispered. 

He raised his hands in surrender.

“Do you really think I want to be here?” Sylvie asked you genuinely. “Do you think I’m going to get any joy out of killing this man?”

“Of course not,” you shot back. “You’re doing this because you think you have to, but I’m trying to tell you that you don’t.”

Sylvie summoned the TVA guidebook out of Victor’s hands, holding it out to you.

“Where do you think he got this book?!” She cried out. “If you - the ultimate timekeeper - and the TVA hadn’t messed with him, he’d have remained harmless. But instead, you weaponized him!”

“I didn’t do this,” you asserted. “What are you talking about?”

“Renslayer set him on a path that he wasn’t meant for. And now you are waltzing him right back into the TVA. What, are you trying to get him to replace you? You finally realized you couldn’t hack it?”

“Watch it,” you spat, trying to act like she hadn’t hit a nerve.

“He’s the thief of all free will,” she whispered, her tone cold like ice. “The most dangerous man who ever lived.”

“I’ve never met him in my life!” You screamed at her. “He’s not He Who Remains. Just like you aren’t Loki.”

“You haven’t got a clue.”

Sylvie ran around you, swinging her blade at Loki and Victor. Loki used his magic to move you into the corner of the car, out of harms way. 

They were so quick in their movements you could barely see them fight. All you saw was swirls of green magic and wind rushing beneath Sylvie’s blade. 

At one point the two shot blasts at each other simultaneously. The intertwined magic exploded like a grenade. The windows shattered and glass rained down on you. You tried to shield your face, but weren’t quick enough to avoid the first few shards. They scraped at your face before falling to the floor.

You heard Loki yell as the force flung him and Victor from the car and down the platform stairs. You quickly ran to the ferris wheel platform, eyes widening in horror at Loki lying still in the dirt. 

“Loki!”

You ran toward him, dropping your knees into the dirt beside him. You were so focused on him, you didn’t notice Renslayer creep out of the crowd and run toward Victor. 

Bystanders started to surround the four of you, helping Victor and Loki to their feet. Murmurs of questions and concerns rung through the festival. 

“Are you alright?” You asked Loki, holding his cheek.

“Where is he?” Loki asked.

“Timely?” 

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure, I-”

A bright light flashed before you, Loki rushed in front of you, pushing you behind him.

“No fucking way.”

A retro-decorated Miss Minutes stood 20 feet tall before you. She laughed manically as the crowd of people screamed and ran from her in horror. She stomped after them, ripping down flags and lights and throwing them to the ground.

“You better run!” She shoutered in that southern accent.

“She has a lot of audacity,” you said to Loki, rolling your eyes.

“Tell me about it.”

Loki was shoved from the back, and you were about to whip around and yell at whoever did it, before Sylvie marched past him, body-checking his shoulder.

“This is your fault,” she said to him before walking away.

“Honestly!” He groaned in frustration. It was like watching two siblings fight.

“Don’t take it personally,” you tried. “She’s like a moody teenager.”

“Loki! [Y/N]!”

Mobius rode around the corner in a idiotically small tricycle. He patted the seat behind him, as if to say hop on.

“Fuck no.”

“Absolutely not.”

- – -

After running around Chicago for an hour to no avail, you had tracked He Who Remains and Renslayer to a small, wooden lab in Michigan. You walked through the orange glow of the TimeDoor to find Renslayer strapped with a pruning gun, as Victor cowered before her.

While Loki and Mobius shouted at her to stop, you had waited far too long to confront Renslayer to merely use words.

You charged at her, tackling her to the ground. The gun went off in the struggle, pruning random items around the room - a chair, an invention, a mannequin. 

“Get. Off!” Renslayer grunted below you. 

You drew your fist back and punched her right in the face. Renslayer shrieked and clutched her nose, which now had blood flowing from it and onto her cheek.

“You sent me to the void!”

You punched her again.

“You betrayed us!” 

And again.

“I actually thought you were my friend!”

Again.

“You tried to kill the man I love!”

Before you could punch Renslayer again, arms wrapped around your waist pulling you off her. You fought against the hold, twisting around to find it was Mobius. Loki simply stood by the door, beaming at you proudly. 

“That’s my girl.”

Ravonna lay on the ground, unarmed, slipping in and out of consciousness. She tried to push herself up on her forearms, but failed, falling back to the floor.

“You’ve lost your way, Renslayer,” you spat at her. “And you lost everything because of it.”

“You don’t know what it takes to lead,” Renslayer groaned between spits of blood. “You failed.”

You lunged at her again, but Mobius held you back.

“Think happy thoughts,” he tried to soothe. “Puppies, unicorns…jet skis.”

“I don’t know, Mobius, I think you should let her have another go.”

Sylvie appeared from behind you, drawing her sword from her side. She walked over to Timely who recoiled to a corner of the lab. Her blade scraped across the wood as she dragged it over to his quivering form. Loki went to stop her, but you threw your arm out, blocking him.

“Wait,” you told him. 

Something felt different this time.

Sylvie held her blade up at the man’s throat - just close enough to feel like a threat, but not strong enough to pierce skin. 

“Please,” Victor begged softly, looking up a Sylvie. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Oh, you will. You’ll do terrible things.”

“That isn’t me. You don’t know the heart I have beating in my chest,” a tear slipped down his face. “I can make my own choices.”

You watched as the words diffused into Sylvie’s mind.

I haven’t done anything. 

That isn’t me. 

I can make my own choices.

Victor Timely wasn’t He Who Remains. He was simply Victor Timely. And if Sylvie slaughtered him for something he could do, or someone he could become, wouldn’t that make her the same as those she despises? Wouldn’t that directly contradict the free will she preaches? 

“Come on, Sylvie,” you whispered to yourself. 

Sylvie’s bottom lip quivered and her grip on the sword wavered. She breathed heavily, as if she was at war with herself. Slowly, she turned and looked at you, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“Get him out of here.”

You nodded, retracting your arm and letting Loki rush forward. As him and Mobius gathered Victor, you walked toward the somber woman. You wiped the tear staining her cheek. 

“The right things are always the hardest to do,” you spoke. “But we must do them anyway.”

She leaned into your touch and closed her eyes, nodding slightly. 

Mobius opened a TimeDoor and instructed Victor to walk through. Loki followed him, glancing back at Sylvie.

“Don’t make me regret this,” she told him.

“I won’t,” he said before disappearing through the door, Mobius tailing after him.

“What are you going to do with Renslayer?” You asked Sylvie, nudging your head to the woman sprawled across the floor.

“I’m going to take her somewhere she can’t hurt anyone.”

A blanket of silence fell over the two of you, and you wondered if you’ve ever shared a moment that wasn’t at least slightly uncomfortable. 

“Be safe, Sylvie,” you told her, touching her shoulder. 

You walked away. And you didn’t look back.

Tag List:

@bethany2002 @jordynhouston   @decadentwastelandtrash

@mrs-obrien   @darlingyoureperfection   @sadandabadbitch

@wizardcherryblossom  @vampiregirl1797  @heelsh1re

@poubxlle   @naturallyathief   @burntchicken231

@imabadbiatchh  @elisebuitron @senuritaawsome226

@jordynhouston @morganmofresh @themightypiggo

@itsybitchylittlewitchy @druellaavery

@mayemperess @shadowluna25

@essencess @a-laufeyson

@the-obelisk @lokidokieokie @rythethesythe

@scoliobean

[thetommoway-oioii]

For Buddie, what about an established relationship prompt where they tell Christopher they're engaged? 💕

Hi @iced-coffee-jesus (love the pfp)!!! thank you for the ask! since there aren't many details I'm gonna assume you want me to take creative liberties! :D

anyway here it goes! apologies for any mistakes, I'm not a native English speaker or a good editor.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Me Until The End

Buck paced a hole into Eddie's living room. It was like watching a clock pendulum. Eddie was sat on the sofa, warily watching Buck. Buck came to a halt, gave Eddie a look that either read 'I'm nervous and scared' or 'I'm about to punch something'. Eddie was about 87% sure that it was the first one. Buck went back to pacing around. Eddie continued his brainstorming for making Buck stop.

"It's gonna be fin-" Eddie started but Buck was staring at him as if daring him to continue.

"Don't you dare tell me it's gonna be fine." Buck stated and continued walking around nervously, his hand now at his mouth, biting nails. Not a thing he often did but a bad habit he'd picked up as a kid whenever he was scared.

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. He was fond and worried about how much Buck was overthinking. Fond because he couldn't believe that the blond loved him enough to be this anxious and worried because he was certain Buck was overthinking too much.

"Babe" Eddie spoke gently and patted the empty couch space beside him.

Buck stopped in his tracks and contemplated what to do. He sighed heavily and plopped down next to Eddie, immediately leaning on his shoulder. Eddie wrapped an arm around Buck and pulled him closer, running his fingers through the blond's curls.

"You know he loves you to death right?" Eddie started, pressing a kiss to Buck's temple.

"I know.. what if he thinks I'm trying to replace Shannon though?" Buck hid his face into Eddie's abdomen. He loved Christopher so much. He didn't wanna lose the boy. He had been scared to tell him about his relationship with Eddie even though, rationally he knew Chris was secretly rooting for it. Relationship was one thing, engagement was another. This was serious now. He was afraid that even though Chris loved him, he wouldn't feel comfortable having someone replace his mother's place.

"Honey, he knows how much you love him and respect him and that you'd never ever try to do anything that he wasn't comfortable with. Plus he already sees you like a second parent Buck. You're not replacing Shannon in his mind or heart, he is gaining another extra parent. Someone who will love him just like I do and just like Shannon did. Please stop worrying so much." Eddie continued stroking Buck's hair, trying to comfort the man.

"I hope you're right because I canno-" Buck stopped when he heard keys rattling behind the front door. He sat up straight and immediately took off his engagement ring and slipped it into his pocket. He took a deep breath in as Carla opened the door and Chris walked in, his face lighting up immediately seeing both Buck and Eddie at the couch.

"Sorry boys, can't come in, I'm running late." Carla said from the front door before slipping out and shutting it behind her. Chris slowly made his way toward the both of them. Buck moved to the side and made space for Chris between him and Eddie. Chris sat down and gave a hug to each of them.

"Welcome back buddy. Did you have fun at school?" Buck asked, all his anxiety carefully placed behind a unbreakable mask.

"Yeah! We worked around in school's terrace garden today. It was really cool and fun!" Chris said enthusiastically.

"That's great buddy! Listen, there was something Buck and I wanted to talk to you about." Eddie sat up a straight, the mood shifting to a more serious tone.

Chris looked between Buck and Eddie and nodded, "Is it about the engagement?" He asked, shocking both the firefighters.

"You.. uh you know about that?" Buck asked, the mask slipping ever so slightly.

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "I saw the ring besides the kitchen sink a few days ago. I figured you'd tell me soon." He smiled brightly. If his expressions were anything to go by, he didn't seem upset at all.

Buck let out a half relieved sigh, though not completely sure if this was gonna end badly or not. "And.. how do you feel about that? Like are you okay with me and your dad getting married?" Buck asked tentatively, not sure if he was ready to hear the answer.

Chris looked at him with a weird face before turning to Eddie and giving him a look that read 'Is he serious?' Eddie half managed to contain his chuckle at Chris' expression. Chris turned to Buck and gave him a big smile.

"Of course Buck! I love you and Dad loves you too! I'm happy that you're officially gonna be my family now. I can have two dads now!" Chris moves closer to Buck and gives him a hug. He wasn't sure why Buck looked so scared but hugs always made everything better so he decided to give his Buck one too. Maybe now he'll be more at ease.

Buck slowly relaxed as he held Chris in his arms. Logically he was about 90% sure that this was gonna go well but his mind had spewed all kinds of doubts all day. Now, seeing the smile and love on Chris' face, he could let go of those doubts. Buck looked over to Eddie over Chris' shoulder and saw the most adorable, softest look on the man's face. He beckoned him forward to join in the hug as well and when Eddie held them both in his arms, Buck knew, nothing in the world could ever take this away from him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(title from The Greatest by Louis Tomlinson)

that's it! I hope you like it. if you have any other requests or prompts please don't hesitate to send an ask.

again apologies for any mistakes.