#I in real life like a normal human man I kiss him every day I don’t blame u

[endlessdreamworld]

God, I finally caught up on the HSR story and I'm so down bad for this man, this traumatized guy, my poor little meow meow.

So here's some yan! Aventurine X gn! reader headcanons that have been rotting inside my brain for the past few days. Bark bark bark rate up soon please haha!!

In the early stages of your relationship, his behavior matches his superficial self, the shell he shows everyone. One of his first gifts to you would be a credit card attached to his personal bank account. 'Don't ask! Just spend.' He'd get a hit of endorphins every single time he sees a charge coming through from you. He knows it's you because he named the profile attached to that card with some corny pet name with a slew of emojis beside it, taking up an obnoxious amount of space on the screen of his phone.

It doesn't take long for him to be utterly obsessed with you. How could he not? You're just so... everything! His everything. It's at this stage, the mask slips off. Material gifts are no longer enough, and the gifts he gives you are pieces of himself. He'll overrule whatever pet name you gave him in favor of honey -- a reference to his heritage.

And speaking of heritage, he's prepared quite the gift for your one year anniversary. Once the sun had long set on a sinfully indulgent all-day date, and after some desperate and incredibly needy sex when the two of you are tangled up in a knot of your sweat and burning feelings, he'll give you his present. Kakavasha, he'd mutter into the sensitive skin on the side of your neck mirroring his commodity code. It's one of the few things he owns that truly matter to him, and he can only hope you'll accept his humble gift.

He's needy, so very very needy in general, about everything, always, in every single way. Pathetically so. He can't hold your hand like a normal person, your fingers must be laced. Kissing? There's rarely a moment when you're not being kissed, and he's generous with the sheer variety he provides you with. Sometimes it's little soft sweet kisses that are more like whispers against your flesh. Other times, he'll kiss you on the hand or face only to never pull away as if he's moving into the real estate on your bare skin wherever he can find it.

And after a particularly horrible day, he'll return home without greeting you in his usual cheerful way. You'll immediately know something is up, even more so when he puts you into a vice grip, kissing you in such a way where it's like he's trying to suck the air out of your lungs. It's as if he believes you can baptize him with your spit and turn him into something worthy of walking around other human beings, a luxury he can never afford himself. On days like this, he feels so utterly unworthy of the life he's taken from the people who have been unfortunate enough to cross paths with him, one stolen day at a time. Of course, he's shameless enough to steal from you of all people -- the sweet little giving thing that you are.

He dreams about working up the nerve, or maybe stooping so low as to ask for your hand in marriage. Whichever comes first. It's something he would have thought a lot about up until that point. He's got more money than he could ever spend in his lifetime, even if one of his hobbies was lighting huge stacks of credits on fire just for fun. With that in mind, any gem no matter how priceless would be a bauble in comparison to what you deserve for putting up with him. Of course he could carve off a piece of his cornerstone, a piece of him, and give you a fragment of God to decorate your finger. But if life on Sigonia IV taught him anything, it's how quickly your most precious belongings can be taken.

So naturally, there's only one thing he could think of that would be more valuable than that, only one thing comes to mind that can't be taken. The idea came to him in passing, an idea that's quite literally staring him in the face.

He's tried getting rid of his commodity code in the past, but even with all of his money, there's nothing that can make it go away without leaving some sort of mark. It was just easier to accept it and it slowly faded into the background over time.

So what would be more valuable than a piece of him, a piece of God? Why, eternity of course, something truly priceless. It would only be proper to get your wedding band's tattooed. You'd even be considerate enough to encourage him to pick an Avgin pattern.

While the idea of a ring as a symbol of your bond is nice, a ring is an object. Objects can be stolen -- or worse, taken off. Countless times were the things he held dearest taken from him. Although those days are long gone, and even though he's a gambling man, he wasn't about to take any chances. Not now. Not with this.

Having your promise to love one another until death do you part sealed onto your skin would give him tremendous comfort. If anyone wanted to take this away from him, the symbol of his vow to you, they'd have to peel it off of his cold, dead body. But first, they'd have to manage to kill him, of course.

Aventurine is hard to get a read on, which is just how he likes it. He's been many thing: a scoundrel, a villain, a confidante, a friend, a rival, a whipping post, a beggar, a tool, a whore, a hound, a pawn, a con artist, and a killer; all things he wouldn't hesitate to become again if the situation demands it. It's in his nature to adapt to what he needs to do, and who he needs to become. But no matter how much of a shapeshifter he pretends to be, the core of his being is unchanging and inviolable, for better or worse.

He's still that scared, lucky, little shivering Avgin boy no matter how hard he tries to play dress up. He needs you to find Kakavasha underneath all of the masks and bullshit he hides behind.

Every day he bets on you to find him, the real him, and love him. The wager? Just the usual -- his life.

[sunsets-and-phantoms]

the way the BioWare fanbases try to moralise their blorbos and fave romances is so fucking funny to me. like I’m not reading your essay on why I should have romanced Kaidan or why liking Anders makes you a better real life activist I do not care babes

also if *someone making a post about how they think your normal human man in the alien game is boring* is the biggest problem of your day then I’d like to live your life

(that’s not to say you can’t have feelings about it or reply to said posts, I just do think that if other people’s opinions on fictional men really do ruin a day for you and make you feel that bad, you need to examine that and find ways to deal with it bc that’s not healthy or a nice way to experience fandom)

[rottenomelet]

yandere jjk thoughts

warning:: nsfw! i’m eighteen and you should be too! hints of kidnapping, non-con, and coercion. nothing is ever really explicitly stated but - still.

a/n: there’s no real rhyme or reason behind this - winter is just my favorite time to snuggle up and read about crazy ppl. also i wrote this in lowercase originally so u see a spot i missed, no u didnt. u can leave requests for different characters if u wanna

Gojo Satoru

In no world could I ever imagine Gojo Satoru treating you like a real human being.

He is the strongest. There is no one who could destroy him. He can see all. And the issue isn’t just that he’s the best, it’s that he’s been told that since the day he opened his bright eyes. He has a big ego and it’s justified because there is no one better than him.

And sure he’ll indulge you. He'll laugh at your jokes and console you when you cry. But in the back of his mind, in every kiss to your forehead, in every smile, there will always be a domineering aspect. Because he knows that you are insignificant in the grand scheme of the world. you are only important because he deemed you worth something.

You’re not quite a toy or a pet to him. You’re more like - an indoor plant to him. Something that needs nurturing from his caring hands, watering and sunlight granted to you by him. You adapt and grow according to his needs and his conditions. But at the same time, you are to be cherished. never handled too roughly, case you begin to wilt. You don’t have to do much but sit and be nurtured and be pretty while he gives you whatever he deems necessary for your survival.

It fascinates him, really, how simple your little life is. How much you don’t know and never will know because as a flower, all you need to understand is that water and sunlight and love are given to you before you’ll even realize that you need it.

But you still have a job to be pretty and sometimes that’s sitting on the bed, still, as he observes you or bouncing on his cock. It just depends on the day.

Geto Suguru

Suguru is a calm man, a quiet man. He makes decisions based on logic. He is not exactly one for emotional outbursts, and even at his angriest, he rarely raises his voice.

But you.

A little non-sorcerer that can’t even see curses somehow made him look twice. Little unimportant you constantly runs through his mind. What you’re doing, what you’ve eaten, what places you’ve gone to. Who you’ve talked to, who your friends are. Your hobbies, your interests. Your lips and your eyes and that special something between your legs.

Just thinking about you, even innocently, makes him harden. It’s uncomfortable, it’s infuriating, it’s maddening.

He thought, surely someone in your family was a sorcerer, a powerful one at that. But no, your family is normal. You are, genetically, as average as they come.

He doesn’t treat you softly at first, doesn’t have a mind to. You’re a filthy little nothing, after all. When he fucks, he fucks without care. Suguru treats you like a doll, not made of porcelain but made of cloth, one he can throw around and still be in decent condition. He keeps a hand pressed to your mouth, to keep your voice down. A blindfold around your eyes so he doesn’t have to look into them. Your hands are bound behind your back so you don't touch him even by accident. Flat on your stomach, unable to see or feel or say anything is how you find yourself every time. He doesn’t even come inside of you, the only thing you’re grateful for.

It’s scary, how roughly he treats you. But it’s downright terrifying when he begins to lay softer hands upon you, begins to kiss instead of bite, caress instead of pinch.

Nanami Kento

He is a very traditional and stern man.

You are, silly, to him. stumbling and bumping and in general, unsure of yourself and what to do. But he sees potential. Even when you’ve tripped over thin air or broken something by accident, there’s a certain grace to your movements. A grace he wants to harvest and invest in.

And while he wants to give you direction, he also doesn’t have the patience or time to teach you like he wants. So, it’s best to ‘learn on the job’ when it comes to Kento.

Learn how to cook his favorite meals and bake the sweets he loves just right. When he’s okay with speaking and when he needs quiet. Remembering to kiss him goodbye every morning and remove his coat for him every night.

Learn how to suck his cock right - which vein is most sensitive, when to suckle and gag and slurp, what noises to make, and remember to always always swallow. He hates messes after all.

Learn his favorite positions. The lingerie sets he like best. How loudly he wants you to be. Accept his cum in your tummy with a smile.

It’s not hard - please him and you will be rewarded. Rewarded with pleasure, with time outside, with gentle hands.

And if you stumble or forget, he will easily remind you of your job.

Mahito

You’re his personal entertainment. You’re an experiment.

Mahito is incredibly laid-back, even lazy to an extent. He lets you roam and explore and fall. He doesn’t care what you do as long as you stay within the four walls he’s placed you in.

It's hard to understand him. For a curse, he’s always laughing, finding almost child-like joy in the most odd things. Whether that’s watching an animal documentary or wondering if a human’s neck can extend like the turtles on TV.

One thing you do know is that he likes games and he likes playing with you. The only problem is you don’t when the game starts and ends, the rules or even if you’re playing right. Oftentimes, you find yourself playing a game that you don’t know the rules of and Mahito has named himself the gamekeeper.

He usually starts by asking a question. Something simple like “What time did you wake up?�� or “What did you eat today?”. You find out the hard way that no matter what you say, you’re always wrong.

Say you woke up at ten? Then you’ll find yourself pressing into the mattress, drooling on your pillow as he drills you, punishing you for waking so late in the day. You had a slice of cake earlier? Then don’t be surprised when you’re in the kitchen licking icing off his cock as punishment for an unhealthy lunch.

Itadori Yuuji

He's the jock that gave you a chance. That made you feel special and pretty and popular.

He's sweet. He gives you his hoodie when you’re cold. He drives you home after school. Buys you lunch when you can’t afford it. Takes you on nice dates.

He wants you sitting front row at all his games, wearing his varsity jacket so everyone knows you’re his girl. He twirls you and kisses you in front of the whole school when he wins, the whole thing right of a cheesy rom-com.

But, surely, you didn’t think he was doing all that for free? No, he wants compensation. He deserves a reward for treating you so sweetly. It's only fair.

It doesn’t matter if you’re ‘not ready’. No, no, you’re just nervous, sweetheart. But he’ll be gentle with you so calm down. Yeah, calm down when he slides a hand up your skirt on a date to the movies. Be quiet when he asks you for head in the janitor’s closet between classes. And don’t make a fuss when he slips his cock inside of you, raw, even though you begged him to use a condom.

‘Rubbers hurt,’ he says. ‘It feels better raw’,’ he pleads. ‘Don’t worry - I'll pull out.,’ he promises.

And you better be understanding when he comes inside of you. Afterall, he’ll buy you a plan b.

Choso

Whatever you do, do not stress this man.

He’s going through enough as is. The last thing he needs from you is any attitude or ungratefulness. Even an upset face will have you with your knees pushed beside your head and Choso making you scream, all while watching you with that same tired expression.

Choso is the oldest of ten siblings. He is used to dealing with bratty behavior. He handles your tantrums with grace - once you’ve finished throwing things and screaming, he’ll only ask if you're finished. And then he will be upon you.

But, beyond punishment, he is caring and quiet. He prefers it when you speak, likes it when you prattle on about your day or your favorite show. He likes it when you’re happy.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

your ghoul fics have me in a fuckin chokehold 😭😩 there's nothing i love more in life than a scary sexy man w questionable morals

not to be horny in anon but like... imagine the reader, after having been traveling together for a while, being an insufferable brat for a couple days, just tap dancing on coop's last nerve- but he's not gonna get rid of you, he's seen you in action, despite his lone-ranger status, you're too useful. too skilled. too good at surviving in the wasteland as a vaultie for this not to have been destined. at least that's what he tells himself to avoid facing the fact that, well, poor bastard caught feelings. basically this is a long winded way of me saying boot riding as punishment, cause the man deserves a free polish 😶

Grunt Work

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Vault Dweller Reader

Word Count: 3,920

Warnings: smut (18+), BDSM-style dynamics, boot riding, masturbation (male), begging, mild hair pulling, mild cum play, Cooper is a softie (but a pissed off softie).

Notes: Anon, I wish you would've been here to see me read this request for the first time. I think a small part of my brain exploded. How did this become 4,000 words? It may have turned out softer than you envisioned (not the first time I've given that preface/apology and it certainly won't be the last; The Ghoul is soft deep inside and you cannot tell me otherwise!), and if so, I hope you still enjoy. Thank you for reading!

Every day with this girl was an exercise in self-restraint.

Granted, the type of self-restraint varied greatly from day to day, hour to hour. From the moment he had agreed to do business with the vaultie, she'd been testing his patience, his boundaries, his sense of what was normal.

Generally, he quite liked it. It was actually endlessly refreshing, he found, to spend time with someone who treated him like he was human, who he felt comfortable enough to actually relax a bit around. Someone who still had some sunshine left in them. Slowly, agonizingly so, they'd developed a bit of a rapport, then a genuine trust, which had eventually (and somewhat recently, given the scope of all the months they'd been traveling together) bloomed into more. What you'd call that "more", he wasn't really certain.

It had been the first time he'd allowed himself any sort of dalliance in that area since he'd divorced Barb all those years ago, and it had been both amazing and heartbreaking. Establishing that new attachment with his little vaultie had been the first time in lifetimes that he truly felt connected to his humanity, the way she'd kissed him and clung to him and sighed his name just like one would with any normal man.

He really had forgotten how wonderful it could be to be with someone, to let them get as close as they possibly could, even though he looked the way he did, acted the way he did, and refused to take off anything besides his duster, his gloves, and his hat.

He knew, deep down somewhere, that she wouldn't reject him simply for what his body looked like. Not at this point. Unfortunately, her feelings about his body didn't really change his feelings about his body. Still, getting to feel her and hold her close had been even better than he'd imagined.

But that new moment of connection, that next and first step, also meant he was fully closing the door on his time with Barb; he'd always been faithful to her, even after they'd split, since he'd really had no interest in dating again in the time after the paperwork was finalized. Then the world had ended and wasn't even a thought in his mind for ages. It had taken him months to even see the advances the girl had been making towards him, months more to reciprocate them.

As asinine as it would seem, becoming this close, actually giving himself to someone else physically and emotionally, made his two-centuries old divorce finally feel real. His ex-wife could still well be out there somewhere, as far as he knew, but they'd never be together again, even if by some wild chance they were reunited. Those special feelings he'd once held so deeply for her were no more.

When his companion had finally fallen asleep that night, tucked naked and warm against his side and wrapped in the tail of his duster, he had shed a few tears, something he genuinely didn't believe he was still capable of.

She didn't seem to be sleeping as deeply as she typically did that night, but if she'd overheard his incredibly vulnerable moment, she never let on or brought it up, and he was endlessly grateful for it.

Maybe he was just growing soft with old age.

She was also quite the burgeoning Wastelander, a shockingly good scavenger with a sharp eye for value and utility, small enough to fit in places that he couldn't, her little hands quick at hacking terminals and picking locks. But, despite her small size, she was quite strong, able to handle herself far better in most fights than he'd ever expected a vault-dweller to be capable of. He didn't necessarily need to watch over her every single second, but the urge persisted, nevertheless. Seeing her safe, seeing her happy, those things gave him a strange sense of inner peace that he hadn't felt in ages. It had become second nature to hover around her.

Besides, as of late, keeping an eye on her every second seemed to be his best bet to stay alive. He was genuinely unsure if his girl (Was that what she was?) had been dealing with an especially bad streak of luck over the last week, or what, but she was rapidly grating on his nerves much more usual.

First, she had managed to nose her way into a yao guai den and set the thing off chasing her, resulting in him taking a pretty nasty swipe to the side before they could put it down, several foot-long tears in his already worse-for-wear coat. However, she'd apologized profusely, spent a few hours that night mending and patching up his coat. He found it impossible to stay mad at her through either.

Then, she'd done the exact same thing a few days later, but with a pack of nightstalkers. He'd nearly lost a finger helping her fight them off, the shitty little things infinitely more tough than one might expect. After that, she was officially no longer in charge of picking where they slept, an arrangement he hadn't been fully aware he'd entered into until he'd had to put his foot down about it. Whatever, she'd pouted a bit and insisted it wasn't her fault. He didn't love how little she spoke to him when she was pouting, and her resolve for keeping at such things was irritatingly strong, but what bothered him more was how well it worked.

Eventually, he'd apologized for snapping at her. That night, she chose where they slept. He tried to not think too long on why he'd let her.

He didn't fully understand why he found himself acting this way around her, and only her. All he knew for sure was that he'd be devastated to lose her, as chagrined as the admission made him, and so he did his best to make things pleasant to keep her around.

What she'd pulled today, however, had managed to officially piss him off.

After a long week of iffy sleep and more scrapes with wildlife and fiends than usual, they had both been a tad testy by the time they'd reached the shabby little trading outpost at the edge of the Wastes, one of the last places you could reliably stop for clean water and supplies in this section of the desert going the way they'd come from. It was also a reliable place for him to obtain vials, and had come in handy to a life-saving degree more than once.

The girl had gotten slick-mouthed with the proprietor over the price of some fancy machine parts she'd scrounged up, insisting that they were worth far more than he was offering her. Granted, she was right; the man was attempting to swindle her, to some degree, but frankly, the damn things were cumbersome and heavy and he wouldn't even call the price she could theoretically get for them worth hauling them around in the heat. If it were him, he wouldn't have dragged them all this way, and would certainly ditch them now.

For reasons he couldn't fathom, though, her solution to the man offhandedly threatening to just keep the damn things had been to pull her pistol on him, which, of course, had set off an entire chain of unnecessary events. The owner's gun had come out, as well, then Cooper's, despite him actually trying to talk the situation down for once.

The man wouldn't relent, however, and he had been forced to shoot his hand off to end the conflict without her blood being spilled. Well, maybe not completely forced, but it certainly felt that way at the time. That particular trading outpost had been incredibly useful to him for well over a decade, and now he wouldn't be able to return.

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have shot them.

Not probably. He would have shot them.

But instead, here he was, tucked into a creaky old UV-eaten lawn chair, smoking and trying to disguise how unsettlingly happy he was to finally have some safe alone time with her beneath his annoyance at being inconvenienced. If there was one thing he hated, it was being inconvenienced. But, if there was one thing he greatly enjoyed, it was her company, so he was at a bit of an impasse.

It was moments like this where he wondered if he'd finally poisoned his brain with too much Jet or any other number of substances, the haze that consumed him every moment around her thick. Even now, when he was angrier with her than he'd ever been at any point in their travels, he couldn't focus on his legitimate grievance because he wanted her so badly. It was the single most irksome thing he'd ever experienced.

She was quickly sniffing out this weakness of his, perceptive little minx that she was. Increasingly, she was quick to soothe his bad moods with little touches and kisses, and it made him melt embarrassingly every single time. He'd been livid and silent as they'd trudged away from the building, both of them covered in rapidly-cooling blood spatter, when she'd brushed her hand along his back softly; a sort of apology, he supposed. Since then, his main source of anger had been himself and his lack of resolve when it came to this particular woman.

The old cowboy was determined to teach her a lesson today, though.

He'd spent the better part of an hour checking their perimeter once they'd come across this place, and the little sniper's nest where they were holed up had a great view of the area. It certainly wasn't much, little more than a rusty metal panel jammed between some rocks, a mattress, a chair, and a radio. But for the first time in a few weeks, things were safe, quiet, and calm. They had plenty of rations between the two of them, and water wasn't as much of a concern as it had been on their way in. She was so comfortable that she'd actually shed her boots and socks, her dainty little feet curled up underneath her as she nibbled away at something under the ramshackle "roof".

Now was the time. He just had to wait for the opportunity.

"You've been quiet since we left the traders." she said after a while of companionable, though mildly terse, silence. It wasn't a question, but at the same time very much was, and the casual, roundabout way she was addressing what was her own actions made him scowl slightly.

"You've been a pain in my ass these last few days, sugar." he said flatly, glaring at her as best as he could from under the brim of his hat. "Should be happy I've just been quiet now."

She actually rolled her eyes slightly, but clearly didn't think he'd seen it, keeping silent as she continued to eat. Increasingly bold for someone within grabbing distance. Cooper let a few seconds pass, studying her.

"Y'know, when I was in the marines, if you were a little shitheel, they'd make you do grunt work." he said eventually, voice matter-of-fact.

She pursed her lips at that, finishing up the can of beans she'd been steadily tucking into.

"I don't think I know what that is." she replied almost absentmindedly.

"It's the shit work no one ever wanted to do, so being assigned to it was intended as a punishment. Scrubbin' floors, toilets. Peelin' potatoes. Polishin' boots."

She chuckled at his anecdote as if it were meant to be entertaining, but the way he let her laugh hang in the silence, staring her down as she sat there curled up beside him, said otherwise. After a moment, she sort of narrowed her eyes at him, her tone low, almost conspiratory, when she asked:

"What're you playing at, cowboy?"

"I'm sayin' you're in trouble, cowgirl." he replied, reaching out to hold her chin solidly in his grip and watching her pout. "I'm sayin' that I think a little grunt work would do you and that attitude of yours some good, and I'm sayin' that I think you should polish my boots."

"Polish your boots?" she repeated, wrapping her tongue around each of the words like they were foreign to her.

"Pretty sure there ain't a functioning toilet within a hundred miles of where we're sitting, and I ain't got any potatoes. So…"

"You can't be serious." she said, her eyes full of curious suspicion as she looked him up and down.

Releasing her chin, the old ghoul set to removing his gloves, tugging his second hand free and using his naked pointer finger to draw a little 'x' over his heart.

"Serious as the grave, darlin'."

There were a few pregnant seconds of them staring one another down, waiting for the other to bend, to flinch. She even lifted her chin towards him, just enough for him to pick up on, an unspoken challenge. God, she was so like him.

"Now…be good and take your clothes off." he smirked, brows raising when she made to argue in response. Her lips worked their way between her teeth as she hesitated before slowly dropping all her armor from her arms and torso, then drawing the dirty shirt underneath over her head.

"Is that better, Coop?" she asked, letting her hair down out of the knot she'd tied it up into on top of her head, the strands framing her face as she worked him over again with those eyes of hers. Pulling herself up into a standing position, he did his best to ignore the way her bare breasts moved and dipped with gravity.

"Mmm. I think it would be more fittin' if you called me 'sir', frankly."

"You cannot be serious!" she insisted again, indignant as she slid the zipper on her trousers down, her tone making him chuckle despite himself. She just didn't know when to quit, and it was fucking adorable.

"Am I ever unserious?" he asked, ignoring the look she shot him back in favor of watching her slowly work the worn pants down over the curve of her ass, dropping them into a pile around her feet and leaving her standing there as naked as the day she was born. He felt his already-stiffening cock twitch slightly, resisting the urge to rub himself through the faded pinstripes of his pants. This was supposed to be a punishment for her, and doing that would give her too much opportunity to distract him.

"Aww, c'mon, boss." she sighed, pressing at a hidden button of his, cocking her head and sending that silky curtain around her face glinting in the light.

"I mean it, missy. You fucked up pretty bad today, and you need to be punished for it. And what did I just say?" he responded, fighting hard to keep his voice even and body still.

"Well…what else would you have in mind as a punishment, sir?" she purred as she stepped back towards him, batting those long, dark lashes his way. He managed to keep his eyes on hers and off of her body, a task that felt herculean as the ache in his gut grew more intense. For a split second, he wanted to give in to her, to pin her to the ground and fuck the attitude out of her like he'd wanted to for days. But there would be plenty of time for that later.

"I promise you that if you knew your other options, darlin', you'd choose this." he replied, finishing his smoke and tossing the butt away. Digging his inhaler out for a quick puff, he finally removed his hat and set it aside, reclining just enough to allow his feet to stick out a few inches in front of him.

She huffed at her little ploy failing to work, crossing her arms and cocking her hip slightly. Cooper's teeth dug into the inside of his cheek to keep back a grin.

"Well, are you gonna take them off?" she demanded.

He couldn't hold back his smirk at that, his head cocking as he continued to stare her down.

"Just how long are you gonna keep playin' dumb? You know it's gonna get cold when it gets dark."

Studying her face, he could see the faint lines of confusion there, and wondered if maybe she really didn't know what he meant.

"There's a reason I wanted you naked, honey, and it ain't just the view."

Though it certainly didn't hurt.

It took a few long, long seconds of her looking him up and down, wondering, but eventually the glow of realization lit up her face, followed by more brow furrowed confusion.

"How would that even work?" she asked, though her tone was more curious than argumentative.

"I suppose you'll figure it out, huh? Askin' an awful lot of questions for someone who's about to be freezin' their twat off in about half an hour." he said, watching with apparent glee as she fidgeted in place, pulling another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

Still attempting to make a stand, she didn't move, chewing away at that bottom lip as she hesitated there. He could smell that she was already turned on.

"Go on. Get to work." he ordered softly, exhaling smoke through his nose, staring into her eyes.

After a heartbeat, she seemed to accept her fate and slowly lowered herself down onto her knees in front of him. That, too, made his cock jump. Her cheeks had a visible rosy hue as she clearly struggled to arch herself at the right angle to make proper contact; after a few long seconds of her huffy sighs, he took mercy on her and tilted the toe of his boot more skyward, allowing her to begin to rub herself back and forth across the dusty leather in earnest.

He watched as her face slowly morphed from mildly confused concentration to blossoming arousal, the tint in her cheeks growing until it consumed her entire face.

"How does it feel?" he asked quietly, taking another long drag off of his smoke.

"It feels good." she huffed, a light sheen of sweat glinting on her soft skin.

He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair at that, squeezing just enough to make her gasp, her eyes flying open to gaze up at him, wide and wet.

"Feels good what?" he demanded. "Given you an awful lot of chances on that, kid. Y'know, insubordination usually calls for more severe punishment."

"It feels good, sir." she replied, her hips stuttering slightly as she struggled to move them with her head fixed in place, her eyes falling shut again. He found it a little surprising that the mild pain hadn't stopped her or made her complain more. If anything, she'd seemed to like it. He took note of that for later.

"Tsk. Well, it's supposed to be a punishment, but I guess I can't help it if a little freak like you gets off on polishin' my boots. Guess I did know a guy in the service who really liked bein' made to scrub the floor, but, between you and me, I think he might've had a little thing for bein' pushed around and told what to do." Cooper's voice fell to a secretive murmur as he spoke to her, watching her eyes dart away as he teased her.

However, as he watched her slide herself back and forth across his foot, he found it more and more difficult to resist the urge to touch himself. When her eyes didn't open for several minutes, focused entirely on the sensation, it would seem, he took the opportunity to palm his cock, his hips eventually beginning to rock against his hand. That movement caught her attention, her gaze burning into him as she watched; this was a button of hers for whatever reason. Feeling emboldened and somewhat sure that she was too distracted to cause trouble, he quickly undid his belt and fly and tugged his erection free, a shiver running down his spine as he gave himself a few experimental pumps in the cooling air.

Unfortunately, he'd underestimated how coherent she still was, her head remaining low, but her right hand creeping up his leg towards his hand. He jerked his chin towards her, sending her jumping back a bit. However, she didn't look fearful, more chastened.

"Don't. You. Fuckin'. Dare." he growled, his hand not stilling for a moment. "If you touch me, I'm gonna put you over my knee and spank your little ass until you can't sit right for a week."

His threats only seemed to make her hotter, a throaty moan leaving her as she began to hump his boot with increased speed, all attempts at preserving any semblance of her dignity abandoned in the pursuit of her orgasm. The grip he was maintaining on himself tightened, and a growl ripped out of his chest in response as he fought to keep his eyes open and on her. If he could still sweat, he'd be pouring it just like her.

Cooper's leg jerked involuntarily as a particularly strong wave of pleasure shot up his spine, digging the toe of his boot harder into her weeping little slit, and she keened in response, her body beginning to twitch all over like it did when she was nearing her end.

"You close, honey? You wanna cum?" he asked feverishly, rapidly sprinting towards his own finish line.

She nodded rapidly, her breasts heaving with her strained breath as her nails dug into his thigh.

"Please, please, please..." she breathed over and over.

"Look at you, just cleaned the thing and you're about to make a mess all over it because you're such a needy little slut." he chastised, breaking down into a harsh whisper as he seized her by her hair once more, his cig hanging loosely from his lips. "Go on, baby. Cum all over my boot."

The labored whine she let out as she lost herself all over him, and the blissful way her face contorted as she cried out, was more than enough to finish him off, his release spurting all over his hand and stomach. They both growled and groaned their way through their shared release, her collapsing against the inside of his leg as she panted heavily. Working to control his own breathing, he let his head fall completely back with a blunted "thud" against the frame of the chair, releasing his grip on her head.

After a few quiet moments, they both rather sheepishly peeked at one another. He held his spend-covered hand up in front of her face, the mess catching the fading light as he reached out towards her.

"You're gonna have to clean that up, too." he said softly, rubbing some of the slickness across her lips, barely holding back a groan when the little pink tip of her tongue darted out to lap at his fingers as they passed by.

"Mmm. Yes, sir." she responded, gently laying her temple against the side of his knee, those big, round eyes slowly slipping shut. Cooper reached out and laid his palm against her head, petting her now-rumpled hair with more affection than he'd like to admit, admiring her in the golden-red hue of the evening sun.

"Don't get too comfy there, sweetheart." he said after a few quiet moments, his cock beginning to stir again. "Don't forget, I've got another boot."

[verlaineszz]

"ALL I WANNA DO IS GET HIGH BY THE BEACH!"

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚— HUMAN FYODOR X SIREN FEM READER

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩SUMMARY: A man with a haunting past and a dead lover has already lost hope in all of humanity. He originally wanted to save humanity, not until the only person he loved the most perished because of it. Avenging of what he can, he does heinous crimes and carry a hatred towards humanity due to the loss of his lover.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ — ANGST + HORROR + ROMANCE + PSYCHOLOGY

A/N: Im gonna make this fanfic quite short since I've been busy and drained.. Please enjoy the read<3!

( ၴႅ��+WARNINGS! : DRUG USAGE, MURDER, DEATH (+ nickname usage, - Lyubov' (love) & Ангел (angel)

Being somebody who is considered 'immortal' wasn't easy, you see the people you love die easily.

Originally, fyodor wanted to save humanity, he believed that everyone needed saving except the people who abused the abilities that was bestowed onto them by the heavens.

He only loved ONE person, a woman who has gained his interest and his affection. The love he had was unconditional and affectionate, a raging storm that was shined upon with the everlasting moonlight. And that was all YOU.

But one day, you needed to visit a certain island due to your studies, being the lover fyodor was, he was quite skeptical and paranoid that something may happen to you, but he didn't wanna cut off your freedom as he does love you dearly.. So he let you off.

With a kiss on the hand and a cheek, you leave the house with a suitcase, on your way to the ship that you were going on, it was a ship controlled by a wealthy and powerful dictator, who the DOSTOEVSKY wasn't fond of.

The ship set sailed in ease..

A few days later, fyodor received a message that the ship went missing. Including you. And the only person who survived it was no other than the dictator himself.

Fyodor clutched his fists as he read through the letter, it wasn't often he was enranged like this, but the melancholic feeling of his lover missing consumed him, how could he let this happen? He should've never let you on in the ship.

Eventually thats when he becamd a ruthless man, he was already making ability users perish but the only thing he admired and adored the most has been taken away from him, he had a plan. A plan to kill the dictator.

He was used to hiding, but he didn't want to anymore. He'd do anything to avenge your death. Your body wasn't even found.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Years passed by, population went down due to his sprees, this void in him was eating him alive.

Every neck he slashed and every shot he has taken was all for you.

He walked through the jagged rocks of the beach, trying to get away from his past. He wanted to forget about it, but he didn't wanna forget you. He walked groggily, he recently took some Lysergic acid diethylamide, he wanted to lay off of life for a second and forget his surroundings. He wasn't normally this disheveled and unhinged, but your death really took a toll on him.

The wind howled through the decaying coastal town, carrying with it the scent of salt and the distant, mournful cries of the sea. Fyodors face gaunt and holloweyed, stumbled along the cobblestone streets, the weight of the past dragging at his every step. He had come to this place seeking something anything that could fill the void left by the death of his wife. But in his search for solace, he had found only darkness.

He took another blotter paper with LSD, he walked till the end of the coast line, nobody was around as the numbing feeling of the substance took over his chest, that dulled tha pain he endured. His legs were cut and he was pale and skinny, you were always the one who was taking care of him that he forgot what to eat, drink and how to sleep.

He looked at the moon with half lidded eyes and soft breathing before hearing a familiar voice. The singing was melodic and smooth to hear, a voice that had the same pitch, tone, and key to yours. This can't be real right?

He immediately walks over to the sound, trying to find it. The sky was oddly colorful today. It was a deep blue. He walked over and he hears it getting louder, he breathes heavily. Running towards the sound, he didn't wanna speak yet. He had to find out himself, were you still alive? After all these years?

With unsteady steps, he descended the rocky path to the shore, the waves crashing violently against the rocks. There, in the shallow waters, stood a figure, bathed in the ghostly light of the moon. Her hair tangled and damp, her skin beautiful and glistening with the spray of the sea. But it was her eyes. those familiar, haunting eyes—.. that stopped fyodor in his tracks.

"Lyubov'.." he muttered with wide eyes and disbelief, his sadness washing away from his chest.

His breath caught in his throat. It couldn’t be. Yet, as he looked at her, he was certain that this was his wife, that returned to him from beyond the grave. His heart swelled with a mix of joy and sorrow, his mind reeling with the impossibility of it all.

“fedya.. ” you whispered with a teasing grin, your voice a soft, melodic echo of the song that had called him. breath caught in his throat. It couldn’t be. Yet, as he looked at her, he was certain—this was his wife.. His beloved lover, That returned to him from beyond the grave. His heart swelled with a mix of joy and sorrow, his mind reeling with the impossibility of it all.

“You came back Ангел..!” he choked out, walking toward you with an admiring grin. “I knew you would come back."

The siren, his wife, smiled, a sad, distant expression that seemed almost… wrong.

“I never left, fedya. I've been here all along. Awaiting for your arrival, my dear." you whispered softly in his ear.

He fell to his knees in the icy cold water, reaching out to touch her. His hand trembled as it brushed against your cheek, you leaned into his touch, your skin cold, damp, and scaley..yet familiar.

He grinned gently, wrapping his hands on your waist, admiring your beautiful face. This is what dreams are made of right? Everything felt completely right. His eyes were filled with adoration and solace. The gaping void in his chest was filled once again, he was finally with you. His wife.

"I've done alot of things in the past, im afraid. But i did it all for you." he caressed your skin, but it felt.. Hard and cold. He ignored that, he just wanted to be with you, to touch you, to love you all over again. "I want you to understand, lyubov'. If you come back amd see the way things are now, don't be afraid."

His eyes were locked onto yours, tucking a piece of your hair behind your finned ears. He looked down, seeing your scaley tail. He didn't care of you weren't human anymore.

You lean onto him, "I'm back now.. Come with me instead, into the depths of the ocean." he nods, his gaze locked onto yours, "let go, and be with me.. Forever. In the sea. We'll love again,"— he nodded, his thumb caressing your cheek as he held your waist securely. "we'll laugh again, and we'll be together. Forever."

His heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He had yearned for this moment, to be reunited with you, to finally find peace and have you in his arms. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, cold and salty like the sea.. But how beautiful you were..

But as he kissed you, he felt nothing but bones. He felt something hard, it wasn't the soft lips that he would kiss every night.

No.

It wasn't.

The substances effect slowly faded away, he looked back at you.. his eyes wide with horror. The figure before him was no longer his wife, no longer the ethereal beauty who had called to him from the sea. She was something else!- something twisted and grotesque. Your bones were pale, bloated, mottled with decay, and your eyes.. those eyes.. were empty, hollow sockets.

This was not a reincarnation of you as a siren. It was your remains. Your rotting missing cadaver that had washed up on shore. Your boned were waterlogged and broken, her limbs twisted at unnatural angles. The crashing waves of the oceans was evident that it crushed your body. The waves and smell of the sea surrounded him as he held your decaying bones.

He looked at your ring finger. It still had the ring he proposed to you with, a patch of grey rotting skin was under the ring. Your skin, that he worshipped and adored the most. His breath was jagged and he held your hand, a single tear dropping down his eye.

The corpse stared back at him with empty eyes, her mouth twisted into a mockery of the smile he loved. He looks down and he held your decaying body close, leaning his head onto your shoulder.

"I.. I will then. If you want it, I'll do it."

It was all a hallucination. But he didn't want to believe that. He believed it was still you. He carried your rotting bones in bridal style, like he did during your wedding day.

He took another dose of his substances and he walked deeper into the ocean.

Deeper.

And deeper..

And deeper.

A/N: the color of the theme is blue and white, completely different from my theme which is red and black..but i wanted to change it up abit. Thanks for reading. This actually made me sad abit..

© All works by @Verlaineszz. Do not copy, redistribute, or repost on other platforms.

[floralcyanide]

𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 - 𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧!𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫

cillian murphy!oppenheimer x reader

DISCLAIMER: this is fanfiction. it isn’t real. Oppenheimer is a real person, however Cillian!Oppenheimer is not. he is a character. if you have something bad to say just keep it in the drafts (:

“let's all go play Nagasaki, we can all get vaporized. hold my hand, let's turn to ash. I'll see you on the other side.” - 137 by Brand New

warnings: spoilers for Oppenheimer, descriptions of nuclear bomb/ explosion, fear

word count: 1316

author's note: I love Cillian so much, and he did so good in Oppy!! I just had to write about it. please keep in mind there are spoilers in this, don't read if you haven't seen the movie. also, there's only like, one other fic on here for Cillian!Oppy which is sad but I'm sure there'll be more soon. (:

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

For the last few nights, Robert has woken up abruptly from his sleep. He’ll sit upright and pant, trying his best to catch his breath. It alarms you every time he does this despite him acting like it didn’t happen. But you know he doesn’t go back to sleep after because you feel him toss and turn until morning. Test day is tomorrow, and you can feel Robert’s nervous energy radiating off him. This was it- this was the epitome of his life’s work, and if it failed, he would be lost. And you’re torn between wanting it not to work for humanity’s sake and wanting it to work for Robert’s. 

You have worked alongside your husband for many years despite the pushback from society. But he knows your intelligence and insisted you be involved in the Project. He refused to have anything to do with it unless you assisted him. Lieutenant Groves reluctantly agreed, but he still knew just how capable you were to help with the Project. 

You’re very much a housewife outside of work, though. Despite being a knowledgeable person, you still have duties at home. You’re busy folding laundry when Robert exits the bedroom after getting ready for a meeting. It was the last one before tomorrow’s events. Robert doesn’t say much to you before bidding his farewell and heading out. It wasn’t abnormal for him to mumble a goodbye before putting his hat on and leaving without anything else said. He was reserved unless it was necessary to say something. That’s one thing you admired about Robert; he could be cynical and sarcastic yet humble and a man of few words. 

You would attend a later meeting that evening, so it’s possible you may not see Robert until bedtime. You aren’t worried about him not kissing your son goodnight or missing dinner. You mostly worry he won’t sleep enough.

Later in bed, you and Robert both lay on your backs, staring at the ceiling wordlessly. 

“How are you feeling?” you suddenly ask, breaking the eerie silence.

Robert opens his mouth before shutting it again, shrugging.

You sigh, turning on your side to face him, “I can feel you have nightmares, you know.”

Robert cuts his eyes toward you before giving in and rolling over to face you as well, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you furrow your brow, “There’s nothing to be sorry for. What we’re- what you’re doing is incredibly stressful and world-changing. It’s normal to be anxious over it.”

“That’s exactly why I’m anxious.”

“Which part?”

“The world-changing part.”

You’re quiet for a moment before answering, “What do you dream about?”

Robert’s eyes study yours closely, searching for any instance of potential recoil from what he’s about to tell you. He searches even though he knows he won’t find it because Robert knows that you’d never leave him no matter what. Even if his nightmares were incomparable to even the most descriptive horror stories. What’s worse is that Robert knows no one has ever seen the results of a bomb the magnitude of the one he’s created. So it’s up to his imagination. And his imagination is one of grotesque imagery that he hopes won’t come to fruition.

“Death,” Robert says plainly, with a cold look, “Destruction. Everything in my dreams is obliterated by fire and disintegrates into ash, and even the ash turns into nothingness.”

You purse your lips, gently reaching your hand up to touch Robert’s cheek, running your thumb over his cheekbone.

“I don’t fear for me or for us. I fear for our children,” Robert gives a watery laugh, “And the world they’ll have to grow up in knowing that such weaponry exists.”

You tuck Robert’s head into your chest, “You are merely the creator, darling. You have no control over how they use your creation. And I know that worries you, but you cannot do much about it.”

“I know. You’re right. But the fact I’m the one responsible for such a destructive device,” Robert trails off.

“Your creation is for science exploration and nothing more,” you say, “Remember that tomorrow.”

When you awake at two in the morning to prepare for the test, Robert has already gotten up from bed. You figure he didn’t sleep and has already made his way down the street to prepare. You hurriedly get dressed, grab your son, and walk out the front door. You let your neighbor, one of the wives of another scientist, watch over your son while you and Robert are away. A vehicle has been sent to your home, probably by Robert, to retrieve you. The ride is quiet and bumpy. You figure they would take you to the main hall, but they keep driving into the desert. Everyone must already be at Trinity. 

Trinity is alight, with people who worked on the project scurrying around to find the perfect spot to watch the explosion. You climb off the vehicle and run to the tent where Robert resides with the others. A relieved smile grows on his face when he sees you walk in.

“I didn’t want to see this without you,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Did you sleep at all?” you mutter into his shoulder.

“Unfortunately, no. But sleep can come later,” Robert says, returning to the detonation station. 

You cross your arms and walk around aimlessly, watching the scientists scramble to take their places and put sun shades on.

“Ninety minutes,” Robert says from behind you.

You turn around to look at him, a half smile growing on your face, “I’m proud of you.”

“And I’m proud of you, too. Without your suggestions, we may not be here,” Robert plays with a loose strand of your hair.

“I doubt that,” you chuckle, “Your brainpower alone has done the job.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Robert says.

After a little under an hour and a half of checking that everything was perfect and prepared, everyone took their places where they wanted to view the test. You’re next to Robert, with goggles on your face that match his. Both of you have ports to get a fantastic view. The countdown begins.

Everyone becomes dead silent as the bomb is detonated. The flash causes you to gasp, your eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness despite the goggles. When the light subsides, you see a mushroom cloud of nothing but fire beginning to rise to the atmosphere. Beside you, Robert grabs hold of your hand and grasps it tightly. 

“Now I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds,” Robert says with a haunting tone.

You remove your goggles along with everyone else as you squint against the harsh brightness. Before you is the most terrifying, breathtaking thing you’ve ever seen. A firestorm that is capable of mass destruction. A scientific miracle. But before anyone can relax, the sound of air rumbling and rushing toward the tent is heard. The sound of the explosion hits the viewing base violently. The blast wave smacks everyone as they brace themselves against the high wind. Once the hot gust of air subsides and the explosion tapers down, everyone begins to cheer and clap.

“We did it,” Robert says in disbelief before he looks up at you, “We actually did it.”

You nod, smiling at him proudly before engulfing him in a hug.

“I have destroyed the world,” Robert whispers in your ear, and you pull away to see an odd flash of emotion cross his face.

“You haven’t,” you whisper back, as people begin to approach your husband, “But you’ve changed it forever.”

As colleagues surround Robert and move him outside, you remain in the tent for a moment. You replay the mushroom-looking explosion in your head. You begin to ponder what the Manhattan Project’s creation will do for the world. And whether it’s good or bad.

Either way, everyone has been forever changed.

[elsecrytt]

Kinktober Day 4

Pegging | Castration | Omegaverse

Pairing: Satoru Gojo/Reader

Warnings: reader is a yandere, gojo is into it, this is basically a comedy believe it or not, gore, a shocking amount of consent for a yandere fic

Pets can be wonderful companions, and a great addition to your family. Especially for a young, single woman like you – a dog can add a feeling of security, and also provide companionship while you’re at home.

But pets aren’t always all fun. Dogs act out for all sorts of reasons.

Bad training. High energy. Need for attention.

In your dog's case, it's separation anxiety.

And "acting out" means Gojo jerks off into your work shoes.

You don't even know how he's getting out of the cage every night. His crate training seems to have failed, but he always obediently goes into the cage at the foot of your bed. Granted, you had to move it so you could stroke his hair as he fell asleep (or pretended to, apparently).

It's not for the sexual release. You'd started jerking him off before bed and that just made him want to jump on you and lick you. You haven’t even started on those kinds of lessons. Gojo’s too quick a study, who knows what he’ll do if you give him access to your cunt and show him how to make you cum.

Fortunately for now, he doesn’t know, and probably wouldn’t ever figure it out. He’s definitely never given a woman head before, which you would normally find repulsive in a man, but you’re pretty sure Gojo’s attitude has just successfully repelled all willing pussy.

This left you, however, with the singular remaining problem of cum in your work shoes.

In a normal relationship, this is where you would talk to your partner about their behavior, explaining how much it bothers you, and convincing them to stop or adjust to make things better.

But Gojo’s not a person, he’s your pet. Even if he’s six foot six and human shaped, he’s just your sweet puppy at the end of the day. He doesn’t understand human speech, even if he’s capable of mimicking it sometimes.

“I’m a sorcerer, you know?” He’d said, “I teach at this one school. My students are going to miss me.”

You’d given him the benefit of the doubt, indulging him with the offer to demonstrate his ‘sorcery’.

Gojo had made a (very cute) concentrating face, then told you to touch him. He looked super surprised when you were able to.

“Wait, what?”

Snapping the collar around his neck, you’d led him off to the life he was destined for, the life of your cherished pet and companion.

Honestly, you’d really saved him. What was a guy like this doing in the real world? Of course he was filthy rich – lucky him – but it terrified you what sorts of people had taken advantage of him before.

What sort of relationships had he been in? He’d accepted the collar right away, even though you’d only just met! It was worrying, how easily he trusted you, even though you really were doing what was best for him. He’d just followed you without question, happily living as your pet.

You’re not protesting, but really, who does that? Satoru Gojo, that’s who. The love of your life who cums in your shoes and peppers your face with kisses as soon as he sees you.

It’s been another frustrating day. He’d messed up all your shoes this time, forcing you to try and wash some, getting to work late. Why does he have to be so difficult?

You spend all day at work thinking of a solution. Of a way to fix him.

It comes to you before you get home. And when you do, he’s waiting for you at the front door, sniffling and quivering like an abandoned puppy. It’s unbearably adorable, and wholly exaggerated.

As soon as you’re in, he pounces on you, hugging you like he hasn’t seen you in centuries, babbling your name and showering you with sloppy kisses.

It’s like he knows you’re a complete sop deep down, and you’ll forgive him for nearly anything if he’s cute and affectionate enough afterwards. Aggravating man. He really is more of a pet than a person.

The two of you spend your day going about various things – Gojo chatters, and you tune it out, humming and petting and giving him an indulgent kiss as you watch TV together, play games, or even cook.

He is useless in the kitchen, always making a mess, and you suspect it’s because he enjoys the fact that you usually opt to give him a bath afterwards.

Truly, more dog than man. It’s your life’s greatest misfortune that you are, thoroughly, a dog person. Or perhaps just a Satoru Gojo sort of person – you can’t imagine raising a dog on top of this. Mostly because you’d have to face the reality that a dog would probably be easier.

“…and I don’t know how you’ve been getting out to begin with,” You finish off your frustrated ramble, setting down the hair dryer as you finish up his hair.

He’s smart enough to clean himself, probably, but you know he likes being pampered. And it’s your privilege as a pet owner to bathe and dry him. Moreover, his hair is unbelievably soft – you run a hand through it, scratching, a sensation he easily leans into.

“Ah, I figured it out ages ago,” He hums, tilting his head up so you can scratch under his chin more easily, “Your technique only works when you’re awake, on things that you can somehow observe.”

Most of his words sound like meaningless barks to you, now. Which means it’s cute, and when he’s being cute, you call him Satoru.

“That’s great, Satoru, sweetie,” You move up to scratch behind his ear and he sighs in bliss, “But you know, you really put me in a tough spot today.”

Pretty blue eyes, wide and pleading, open up. “I’m rich, baby,” He whines, “I can give you all the money you need. Don’t go out every day. Stay with me.”

Boundaries and maintaining separate lives are important for a healthy relationship, but you can’t expect a dog to understand that.

“Baby,” You say gently, “Why do you feel like you always need me there? Are you not getting enough enrichment? I can get you more games to play at home, or books to read. You can even watch TV if you want to.”

He clings to your leg, sniffing, crocodile tears shimmering – but you can tell from how he’s angled that he’s sniffing straight into your crotch, and his legs straddling yours legs his groin rub up against you.

He’s actually incorrigible. You’d be genuinely concerned about someone showing up on your doorstep with a blue-eyed, white-haired child someday, except you’re pretty sure Satoru’s not capable of shutting up and not being annoying for the amount of time it would take to ejaculate inside a woman.

You’re also pretty sure he can’t even get it up with strangers. The only people you know he’s had sex with are – well. It was just one person, who he’d known for years in high school, and who now led a cult. You choose not to think about what that means for Satoru’s taste in partners.

You did stop being a stranger to him relatively quickly, but you’re putting that down to the natural chemistry and magnetism between you.

Even with a friend sneaking in to seduce him as an honesty test, Satoru had remained steadfastly loyal, as all good dogs should be. Your friend, however, didn’t speak to you for a week, and has serious doubts about your taste in men.

“I want youuuuuu,” He whines, nuzzling his face into your hand. Your heart squeezes in your chest. “I miss you so much when you’re gone.”

When you successfully fight the urge to fawn over him, he gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “I’m lonely here by myself, you know. I get separation anxiety. You can’t be mad!”

To his begging, you are immune (your life would have been very difficult otherwise). It is only his stupid thoughtless gestures of affection that move your heart and soul.

“You’re right,” You sigh, “It’s not fair of me to expect you to change your behavior.”

Satoru nods along, as if you aren’t arguing away his personhood. You’d say he’s too much of a pretty, mindless whore to use his brain, but you’re pretty sure he’s well aware of the implications and prefers pethood.

One of your friends had called you crazy, but they didn’t know Satoru like you did.

“Come here, baby, up,” A pat on your lap, and Satoru’s pretty blue eyes brighten right up – he knows what this is.

Gleefully wiggling out of his towel, he sits himself over your knee, cock already half-hard and bouncing against his well-defined abs. You’re going to need to put him on some kind of training regimen or gym time if you want him to maintain that. It’s ridiculously hot.

You take his dick in your hands – it’s a pretty thing. Just long and girthy enough to still look a little slender, all flushed pink at the tip like it’s blushing. Satoru does blush so very prettily.

He bucks into your touch, too, arms wrapped around your shoulders as he shoves himself towards you, but you allow him this indulgence as you tenderly pump him, up and down. Listening to his breathy sighs and moans he probably thinks he’s being very subtle about directing straight into your ears.

They’re still lovely, though. Everything about Satoru is lovely, even if he is terribly annoying sometimes. Everything about him is loveable to you, and always will be, no matter what.

An owner’s love for their dog is unconditional, after all.

Your other hand discreetly picks up the knife you’d left on the bedside table.

“Hhhh~ ahhh, you really are the best,” Satoru pants, clinging to you, nuzzling his face into your hair, licking over the shell of your ear. “Do I get this every night, now?”

You turn your head to place a kiss on his cheek – Satoru whines and chases your mouth with his, cheeks rosy as his cock grows redder in your hands, throbbing and twitching.

“You’re so frustrating sometimes, Satoru,” You say, allowing him his kiss, “But I still love you very much.”

Your hand squeezes harder, harder, thumbing over the slit at the head of his dick until he’s trembling in your lap. Squeaking cutely and half-clawing at the front of your shirt, “Shit, shit, fuck, hnngh, that’s so good – just a little – just let me – ”

Of course it’s good. You’d done it so many times before, after all. He squirms, body tensing as his breaths grow tight, short, his arms squeezing around you –

And then he cums with a sigh, spurting all over your hand. Satoru’s head lolls back, a shuddering gasp escaping him as he relaxes, lashes fluttering a brilliant white against his pink cheeks.

You have the knife at the ready. But first, you kiss his face, on the cheeks, on his teary eyes. He likes kisses, always wants to kiss you on the mouth, but you’re saving that to give him as a special reward, someday.

For the next few moments, you let him sink into the pleasure, feeling how the pulse in his cock slowly ebbs away, his breathing evening out. He’s always been a beauty in the afterglow; it’s no different this time.

When he’s finally soft enough, you bring the edge of the knife right up to the base, coming up from under. Pressing down with your thumb further on his shaft, you yank it upwards by the handle, HARD, enough to make a clean cut. You wouldn’t want this to be too painful, after all.

The gasp he makes is one of pain, but it’s not too unlike his other noises. His whole body shudders against you, and he pants heavily, eyes glassy as his head tilts back in blissful agony.

You hold him in your arms, shushing his sobs tenderly, whispering all the praises you know he loves (that would have made him hard).

“Shh, there’s a good boy,” Hand in his hair, stroking gently, positive reinforcement that he leans into helplessly, “You were so good for me, my sweet darling, you were perfect. My perfect boy.”  

Satoru nuzzles against your hand, pretty eyes and squeezed shut, those fair lashes glistening with tears. Sniveling so pitifully that you can feel yourself getting wetter.

Your hands are gentle now, for all the good it does him, wrapping the bandages around the wound on his crotch.

Oh, what a shame you won’t be doing much with him, soon. He’s so beautiful, all wounded and weepy like this. You’re itching to eat him up… but you’re not so irresponsible as to try that when he’s injured (even if he’d probably want you to).

There’s painkillers, many more hushed words of comfort and reassurance and praise. Satoru doesn’t care for any of the drugs or bandages, but he clings to you when you tell him you’re proud of him, that you made him happy.

That’s your boy. Your darling Satoru.

You let him sleep in your bed that night. After all, he has been a very good boy.

The cage hadn’t been stopping him anyways – but surely this would keep him in bed, too, the appeal of your company, your arms wrapped around him.

When you wake up, Satoru is sleeping peacefully, right where you left him.

Then again, he always is – but you’ve got a good feeling about this one. There’s a special charm – its own reward – seeing him curled up into your side, long limbs sprawled and twined with yours. It’s a little hard to extract yourself.

Really, you’ve got to get a dog bed or something, you think, as you get yourself ready for your day. If you let him sleep in your bed he’s bound to get up to more antics, but it was clear the cage wasn’t really holding him…

It’s something to consider. At least now, one problem is solved. You’ll miss his cock for sure, but not as much now, since you’d never had it in the first place. You love Satoru for himself, after all, and not his body.

You get out your work shoes, and –

“God damn it, Gojo!”

[roboticspacecase]

You should write Nun Dipper and Demon Bill trying to tempt Dipper into gay kissing (This is not a request, but a demand bozo)

Fine, fine, I'll write something

Stepping out to get fresh air had always been a way for Dipper to calm himself after a long day. Sleep never had been a close friend, so walking the temple grounds in the cool night air helped pass the time.

He had grown up there and knew every rock and twig on his path, easily stepping over them while keeping his back straight and head held high. Dipper enjoyed not having to think about every step he took. It gave him time to work through some of the problems his people had brought to him, which often had to do with their crops taking their sweet time coming in.

They could do plenty of things to help themselves, but with the school in town being no better than a few bookshelves with an old, loud librarian, it was up to him and his family to help them. Dipper took pride in his work in the temple, and having the time to think about it all made the following day easier to get through.

Of course, that time only helped when he was alone.

"Hey, Pine Tree," a voice echoed through the trees. "Didn't think you'd come out so early. Normally, you give laying in bed a shot for at least a few hours."

Dipper waved a hand at the empty path in front of him, still walking forward at his even pace. "I didn't want to bother with that tonight. I have too much to think about, and lying in that stuffy room with the sound of my sister snoring down the hall never helps."

"Ooh, I see. Someone's mind is busy tonight, then?" A faint, yellow glow flickered behind one of the trees up ahead. "I could take a peek in your head and help sort it out! I've always been a master of puzzles. Or, I could just take your place tomorrow and help them face-to-face! Bet they'd love to see me!"

"All are welcome in the temple if you embrace our teachings. So, it might be a bit hard for you to saunter in." Dipper stopped walking, watching the dim light grow stronger. "And we both know that I have no interest in letting you into my head."

A suave, neatly dressed man stepped out from behind a tree, the glow from before completely disappearing as he did. His yellow suit had such a stark contrast to the dark trees, however, that Dipper always assumed he made the thing out of whatever made the light. "You still don't want to let me in? It's been years, Pine Tree. How long is it going to take for you to realize what they're selling you is bogus? Everyone knows that what I've got is the real way to live life."

Dipper rolled his eyes. "You know as well as I do that your tricks aren't going to work on me. We've been over this, like, a million times, Bill. You're more than welcome to spend time with me, though. Maybe some of the true meanings of life will start to rub off on you."

The demon walked right up to Dipper, standing less than a foot away from him. "I like the sound of rubbing you off." He wiggled his eyebrows, earning a groan from Dipper.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Isn't it, though?" Bill lifted a hand, his black, leather glove softly tracing over Dipper's cheek. "I see the way you look at the human shape I take," he said in a low, rumbling voice. "How could I not notice, when every time we're together, your heart rate picks up and your holy eyes wander to my lips?"

"That's not true." Dipper's voice came out strained, though he held his unimpressed expression. Bill's eyes were locked onto his, no doubt looking for the slightest flicker of interest in his words. "I don't look at specific parts of your fake body on purpose. Sometimes I just happen to look there."

The shrill laugh that came from the demon bounced off the trees, scaring a few birds away. "Don't you know that lying is a sin, my little Pine Tree? I can see the want in your eyes." Bill pressed their noses together, his skin hot like the fiery pits he had crawled out of. "You might think your thoughts are pure, but you're still just a soul trapped in an animal's body. That meat suit you're wearing chooses what it wants, and right now, it's begging you to kiss me."

Every word the demon spoke brought with it his warm breath. It fell over Dipper's lips and cheeks like a warm blanket, his cinnamon and lemon scent inviting him to dive underneath to wait out the chilly night.

"Part of being a nun of the temple is learning to restrain any sinful whims of the flesh. I'm an adult, and therefore have already gone through the training needed to easily refuse you." Dipper's lips had gone dry, but he dared not lick them while Bill was so close.

Bill hummed, once more using his hand to stroke Dipper's cheek. "That's such a shame," he sang softly. "You've been stubborn for so long, it almost makes me believe you. But I know you, Pine Tree. I know you better than you know yourself. And I know that you're smart enough to see through all the lies that temple tells you." The demon leaned forward, nearly closing the tiny gap between their lips. He pulled back at the last second, his sharp grin filling his face. "You'll see one day. You'll all see."

With room to breathe, Dipper let out a sigh. The heat that had filled his cheeks remained, warming him more than the thick robe he had thrown on. "Well, if you're done being tempting and cryptic, then would you like to join me for the rest of my walk? I believe it's my turn to try and tempt you. Into joining the temple, of course."

The demon's grin somehow grew wider. "Of course, of course. The usual, then."

He moved beside Dipper and the two began to walk, the demon managing to whistle a tune while also humming and speaking. Each note lingered for longer than what Dipper thought could be possible, but then again, demon magic never did make much sense to him.

"Alright, your turn to tempt me, then. Go on, my Holy Savior, get on with it." Bill's intense gaze stayed on Dipper while they walked, the demon effortlessly stepping over any obstacle without turning his head. Perhaps he had also grown used to that path.

"Tonight, I'll tempt you with silence. Keep your mind clear and listen to the world around us." Dipper glanced over at Bill just in time to see the scowl on the blond's face. "I know, it sounds boring. But trust me. Sometimes hearing the gifts of nature we've been given by our god can help remind us that we are treasured by him."

Bill gave an exaggerated eye roll. "Fine, whatever. I'll listen to the birds and the bees. Even though you won't let me demonstrate them."

They both chuckled at that, then fell into silence.

Dipper had no idea how many more years the demon intended to try and tempt him, or even how long he would stick around that night. But he did know that walking next to Bill in the shaded moonlight, listening to the rustling of the leaves and the quiet wildlife, had been better than walking alone.

[konata-izumi-kinny-writes]

Rescue Bots x Reader romantic hcs

Seperate

[A/n: I know its weird that i like these four. Shish.]

Anyways here yall go.

Heatwave

Beeg frumpy man

Literally just picked you up and said, "I love you. You're mine now." And walked off with you

Hes a tsundere at first but grows softer the longer you're with him.

Fr he needs someone who'll listen to him rant or smth without making fun of him

Give this big boi a hug

He'll be confused, but he'll grow to like it

Kiss the big man.

He got BIG soft lips, well, big compared to you but you get the point.

You may be wondering how the flip they're soft.

The answer is, 'a flip ton of bendy cords and fuel lines layered with some memory foam and waterproof carbon fiber cloth' (same goes for the others)

Another thing you can do is pepper his face plates with kisses

Automatically starts blushing.

VERY protective and lowkey jealous

He carries you around like a baby. Theres no reason for it, thats just what he does. If Kade has any snarky remarks to say about it, you bet Heatwave is gonna clap back with something better.

Treats you like glass.

You're just so teeny tiny compared to him and he doesn't want to hurt you.

He'll feel absolutely terrible if he does.

Despite all of that though, he does generally treat you like a normal person. As well as letting you have your own life.

Do NOT make self deprivating jokes around this dude. For multiple reasons.

1, they make him stressed and sad (he won't admit that hes sad in front of the others tho)

2, It automatically triggers him to be even MORE protective

3, Heatwave will aggressively tell you how much he loves you and how pretty/handsome you are

For example,

'*Squishes your face with his fingers*, "Shush. You're fragging amazing. Say anything like that again, and i'm snuggling you for the entire godamn day."'

He doesn't yell at you though. Just has an aggressive tone.

He does the same for any insecurities you have too.

Oh, and he means every word he says when it comes to his bellicose praises.

"...I warned you, Dear."

*proceeds to pick you up in his hands and lay down somewhere while holding you against his chassis*

LOTS of kisses. Like for real you'll be out of breath when he's done with you.

It doesn't end there either.

He sometimes puts you in the passenger seat if there's an emergency so he can still keep an eye on you.

Depends on the emergency

He gets angrier than usual if you're the one in danger, he only calms down once you're safe.

Chase

He loves and supports you so much aaa-

He was VERY blunt when he confessed to you

"(Name). Forgive me for saying but I have fallen in love with you, and wish for you to be my conjunx endura. You don't have to feel the same, but you have the right to know."

He was lowkey surprised when you said you felt the same

Chase proceeded to kneel down and pull you into a hug. You responded with hugging him back along with a kiss on the faceplates, the rest is history.

He loves any kind of affection you give him, just don't use sarcasm, he can't pick up on it.

His love language is usually physical touch, words of affirmation, and quality time

Chase only wants three things from you throughout this relationship.

Your happiness, your affection, and your safety.

Though he does want to keep you safe he's not really overprotective.

He insists on carrying you if you're somewhere where one of them could step on you.

You used to go on patrol with him...

Until you almost got merc'd by a haywire lawn mower.

Since then you stay at base, and he always looks forward to seeing you run up to him when he gets back.

Hes not a fan of scary movies, but he'll be fine if you're holding his hand or hugging him.

Bring an inhaler, you'll need it for how much he'll make you laugh

At this point he's still trying to learn human culture... that (un)fortunately includes slang

"(Name), look. I have acquired an 'annelid on a string'"

"Dearest conjunx, what is 'Goated with the sauce' and why does a caprine have a condiment?"

"(Name), what does it mean to 'simp' for someone?"

Whether you feed this fire or not is up to you.

Pet names include; Dearest, Honey, Love, My Light, My Conjunx Endura, ....scrinkle (I'm not sorry)

Despite the mixups with slang, hes still pretty damn blunt.

Not to mention, even with how monotonous Chase is pretty romantic when hes talking to you.

This means that you can tell that he's being honest whenever he starts whispering sweet nothings to you.

And Chase mean everything he says.

And he always looks you in the eyes when he says one specific line, just so you know he really means it.

"I love you"

Blades

Oml hes so friggin nervous.

He didn't confess to you... Kade did

He heard Blades talking to Dani about you so he decided to mess with him.

"HEY (NAME), BLADES TOTALLY HAS A HUGE CRUSH ON YOU!!"

"NO I DON'T, SHISH!!!"

He only admitted it once you said you felt the same

"...you do!? This isn't a cruel joke right?... I.. love you too."

He leaned down and gave you a kiss on the forehead

HES SO SWEET TO YOU

Lots of snuggles, hand holding, kisses, hugs, carrying you around, you name it!

Flip, he loves touching you in general.

You're just so squishy compared to his kind, he can't help but be enamored

Big touch-starved snugglebug

He likes watching tv with you on his chest

Sometimes the baking shows he comes across motivate him to bake something for you.

Half the time its good, half the time it isn't.

Pet names are; Sweetie, Honey Bunny, Cupcake, Lil Squisha, and My Spark if he's feeling really romantic

Don't yell at him please :(

He will be more anxious and sad if you do.

Its enough from others, it hurts more if its from you.

Unless you're happy and excited. He'll be yelling with you.

Very protective and jealous

He isn't too overbearing with it though

Hes just nervous and scared

Nervous about something/someone hurting you, and scared that someone will take you from him.

Thats why he doesn't take you with him on missions, even with how much he misses you.

Please comfort him when hes scared, he REALLY needs it.

Blades loves your laugh so much

He'll find the cheesiest jokes to say just to get the smallest noise out of you.

He'll be very impressed with whatever talent you have, and will try his best to support you.

KISS THE BEEG NERVOUS BOIBOI

He needs it... badly.

Will immediately turn blue and get extremely flustered, but he loves it and won't stop you

He gives you little trinkets he finds at random... well, they're little to him.

"Y/N! I got something for you :3" *Proceeds to place the biggest tumbleweed you've ever seen right in front of you*

Sometimes, Blades legit out of nowhere picks you and and carries you somewhere where nobody else is around

He proceeds to lay down and put you on his chest

Totally peppers your face in kisses before looking you right in your eyes and saying how much he loves you.

"I love you so much, Honey bunny. You're my little cupcake and i won't give you up for anything or anyone. I promise."

Boulder

Hes so sweet to you

It took some encouragement and advice from Gram for him to confess to you, but he did it!

He went out and picked a bouquet for you too

He sat down criss cross applesauce and told you how he felt after taking a deep breath.

"(Name)... I have.. developed some strong feelings for you.. romantic ones. You don't have to say yes, but i still want to ask.. will you please be my love for life?"

You of course said yes and gave him a hug before he could even give you your bouquet

He closed his eyes and returned the hug, all the while rubbing your back.

Dates at the zoo are a must. Obviously. Like cmon now. This is Boulder we're talking about.

Will bring you random plants and animals and ask if he can keep them

If not that, then he'll pick flowers and other plants for you. Ofc he makes sure theyre not spiky.

He paints for you.

GIVE HIM SMOOCHES

Theres nothing he loves more than your lips

Well- he loves your tummy too.

Its a tie

ANYWAYS-

SNUGGLE THE BIG HIMBO HE NEEDS IT

(They all do but you get the point)

Like Heatwave, he carries you like a baby. But he just does it because he thinks you're cute.

Like for real, to Boulder, you're the cutest little fleshy he's ever seen.

Until he sees a baby.

He looks at you with the most "🥺" expression ever

"[Name]-"

"No we're not having a baby, bubbas. Sorry"

"🥺"

His pet names for you are; Dearest, Bunny, My Flower, Small one, Sweetie, Dove, Angelfish, Wifey/Hubby/Lovey (whichever you prefer or identify as)

He loves you, but no. You can't go w him on emergencies.

Literally on the verge of tears if you're the one in danger

If that happens, prepare to be snuggled for 3 days straight.

[dinums]

Secrets and Broken Hearts

-----------------------------

Chapter 4

Thomas Shelby x (Writer) Reader

"I am a woman in love, I wear my heart on my sleeve and smile with not a single thought. I am a woman in love, happily content to where I shall be and where I shall go, as long as I am with him."

Authors Note: I made this story with not much thought, but I wanted to portray the reader and Tommy living their separate lives to have you, readers, have a gist on what its like, to make the character, Ms. Bennett feels real. I don't really know if that makes sense or if I'm doing it correctly, but please enjoy :)))

Two days and six hours, it's been exactly two days and six hours since I've started this investigation that I burdened myself with. All I've been getting are bits of information from the men and women. Women loved to gossip, so much so that they became one of the sources of said information. These missing wives, they had nothing in common with one another. They were just normal working women before they got married and settled down. What would society even do with them? I feel like a jester, juggling my social life together with this secret double life. I never really got used to such taxing activities mentally. This whole investigation, could it be some murderer? Human Traffickers? Surely, this culprit had a motive, a reason, something these women had that they wanted, something these women can give, choice or not.

"Why does everyone call you by your last name?" Andrew suddenly asked, which made me look over at the small child playing by the racks of clothes in William's shop.

Tilting my head, I seem to not know the reason behind it either. Andrew is the son of the man I visited to get close to have more information about the missing wives rather than relying on gossip alone. The child himself was quite entertaining to be around. He spoke so freely about his mother, telling stories of how loving the woman can be.

"Well, if you want, you can call me by my first name," I said with a smile. Walking over to crouch down to his eye level, I gave him a pat on the head, which earned me a smile in return

"Isn't this a sight, hm?" I heard the familiar voice of William from behind. He was at the back with Catherine earlier, presumably sorting out fabrics and dresses.

"C'mon, I've only offered to let this little guy stay here while his father worked, for the assurance that nothing will happen," I said softly though assuming from their reactions, it wasnt taken quite kindly. The statement itself was considered a lie. I lied. Lying straight to the face of the man I love, like how I would every day to everyone, including this child.

"So you don't want me here... Ms. (Y/N)?" Andrew asked me, his face looked sad, eyes like melting glaciers about to fall.

"Of course not, I just meant that I couldn't risk you being alone without your father, even though -"

"So you care for me.. right?" The little child said, hopeful, which made me think, how can he care about my feelings towards him in such a small amount of time we've been together? Children truly are innocent, things to be kept safe from the world we live in. Furthermore, care. To care is to help, a genuine action done out of the kindness of one's own heart. I do that, correct? I think for a moment, my actions, words, and emotions all contradict one another. Both men in the room seemed to take notice of my silence, which in turn made me aware. Aware that they can never know these thoughts, to Bury it, to hide. Breaking from my thoughts, I smiled at the child.

"Of course I do, but later your father will pick you up, I'll have William stay with you since I need to go for a bit, yeah?" Standing back up, I walked over to William. He then wrapped his arms around my waist, leaning against him while I looked back at Andrew. Understandingly, the child nodded, which made me smile.

"Eh? Where will my heart go? Guess she'll leave me alone once again..." William joked, kissing me on the cheek, which made me chuckle.

Seeing the display of affection, the child grimaced and then ran off to play somewhere else, which made me and William laugh.

"I promised you a date. Therefore, you must let me go for a while to prepare," I giggled. Going to dates on Friday was kind of like our tradition, a simple act to show love and to feel it radiate from each other. Feeling his lips on mine for a brief moment, I smiled.

"Alright, I'll pick you up at our place," William smiled. He's always such a loving man, doing more than beyond.

"See you later, love," I said, parting with a kiss before I headed out. Love was something I wasn't familiar with, which sometimes led me to be confused on how to act around William, though lucky enough that he guided me through it.

Walking down the street, I'm greeted with familiar faces. Some I can't remember the names. The smoke filled air, and the mud on my shoes did little to dampen my mood. Suddenly, people started to run about, screaming and shouting.

Confused, I slowed my footsteps. There, on a shop, a lifeless man was dead with Danny holding a bloody knife. My eyes widened, I tried to move, but nothing came out, I held my breath, and though I investigated crimes like this, I never saw a man dead right in front of me. From this day, I'm sure I'll never get used to this.

Someone passes by me, but it can be considered more like shoved. It was Thomas Shelby. He went over, took the knife from the man's hand, and calmed him down. The scene deescalated just as quickly as it happened. Once Thomas got Danny to go away, coming with some surge of confidence, I began to walk towards him with his hack turned to me.

"Mr. Shelby..?" I said softly as to not startle the man, whipping his head back, he looked at me without uttering a word, he simply raised a brow which I took as a cue to keep going.

"What will happen to Danny now..? He just -" stopping myself to look at the dead body in front of us, he followed my gaze and just shook his head. Taking a cigarette, he lit one up and placed it on his mouth, blowing the smoke in the corpses' direction. "Mr. Shelby, I worry for him and his family.."

"Don't stick your nose into others' business, saves you the trouble, eh?" He said, as he was about to walk past me. He took my hand and gave me a few quids, which caused me confusion. Was this for my silence? Though that seems rather odd since a quarter of the town already saw what happened, or was it so I'd stop with being so nosy?

"For the bread."

"Bread? What bread?" I asked, my brows furrowed as I looked up at the man. The more he acted, the more he perplexed me. Seeing his face, he tilted his head as if he should be confused

"You dont remember, again?" I shook my head, remembering what he gave me moments ago, i tried to have him take the money back, but he refused, saying he already gave them, so it'll be no use. In the end, he walked away and left me be, confused, I placed the coins inside my coat pocket before walking home. What did i forget again? No matter what I have other things to do at the moment, I need to get the memory of the dead body out my head.

After preparing for my date, at eight o'clock sharp there was a knock on the door, I smiled and opened it. William appeared with a bouquet and fresh smile, I'm taken back to memories when he was still courting me.

"Flowers for the beautiful lady?" He asked, which I gladly took. Holding up his hand, I held them. I locked the door, and we began to walk towards the pathway to a small restaurant.

"Thank you for this, for everything, Will," I said while we kept walking hand in hand.

"Then I should thank you too"

"For what?"

"For letting me love you"

"Then, you're welcome."

With that, we spent the rest of the day together, I told him about what happened earlier, and he's told me of stories he heard and so on. Everything feels nice. It feels like home as we both made it out to be.

...

That night, Ms. Bennett was content with her lover. Everything played out perfectly. She lived a good life and was happily in love. Maybe fate can say the same for the man she bumped into earlier as he's inside the Garrison, enthralled by the singing Barmaid before him. Surely both Ms. Bennett and Mr. Shelby will live their lives with love found in someone else's eyes.

[mymultiverse00]

Left Behind

This is my first ever Twilight story. I hope you like it!

There are no hiding spots for humans in Volterra Castle, especially when considering its residents. Oh, I can find a dark corner to huddle in for a little while or even go outside to bask in the blazing hot sunshine, but no matter where I go, someone will always find me. They follow my voice, or my scent, or the sound of my wheelchair on the ancient stone floors, and like magic, any hope I had for some blissful solitude is completely shattered. But today is different. Today there are visitors in the castle from far away covens, and suddenly, no one around me can spare me a second glance, not even my mate. That part hurts the most.

I met my mate only six months ago while working in town at the old Volterra library. At the time, I had no real home, no living family, and really, no hope. I was barely eking out a living, limited by both my mobility and my inability to speak the local language. I was depressed and crippled by low self-esteem and severe anxiety. I barely had the will to go on, but then I met Marcus, and everything changed.

Every day for three months the tall, somber man visited me at the library, and slowly the two of us developed a relationship that blossomed into love. He confessed his feelings and his secret one rainy night in my tiny apartment and offered me a future I couldn’t possibly turn down. He moved me into his home and introduced me to his family, and never once was my disability an issue for him. In fact, he went out of his way to make things easier for me. Every day he told me he loved me, and brick by brick, he helped me rebuild my self-confidence and push the depression away.

As soon as I agreed to move in, Marcus started renovating and redecorating his rooms, adding low-profile furniture and other accessible fixtures. He remodeled the bathroom completely, adding grab bars and a roll-in shower with a sturdy teakwood bench across the back wall. He brought in a new bed that had the ability to be raised and lowered at will, along with a mountain of pillows designed to take pressure off my back, hips, and knees, and never once complained about his own discomfort.

He also considered my other human needs, expanding doorways and lowering work surfaces, creating unobstructed pathways to the garden and conservatory, and even convincing Aro to hire a full-time chef to cook my meals. He made it very clear that he wanted to make the remainder of my human life as simple as possible and would stop at nothing to make me happy.

There was only one thing he couldn’t change, however, and I have a hard time holding it against him: the stairs. Volterra Castle is full of ancient stone staircases everywhere you look. Stairs going up to Athenadora and Sulpicia’s rooms; stairs going down to the kitchen and the activity room for the lower guard; stairs keeping me firmly planted on the first floor of the castle at all times.

Normally, stairs are not a huge issue. Marcus took great delight in lifting me up into his strong arms in order to ferry me anywhere I wanted to go. He would loop my arms securely around his neck and pick me up like a bride, sneaking kisses and snuggles all along the way. I would giggle girlishly at his roguish behavior, and he would smile, and maybe we would be late to our destination if we ever made it at all. Today, however, the stairs won.

——————

The morning had been a busy one, with everyone buzzing around the castle, preparing for the arrival of some very important guests. Marcus and his brothers were holding a summit of sorts, and covens from all over Europe would be arriving at noon for two days of festivities. There would be a grand reception this afternoon and evening, and after the meetings ended tomorrow, there would be a lavish ball. This was the first time I would be introduced to such a large group as Marcus’s mate, so I was extremely nervous, but my love had assured me that I would be welcomed by all.

Or at least I would have been, had I been in the throne room with the rest of the group. Somehow, in all the excitement of handshaking and backslapping during the arrival of our guests, everyone forgot about the half dozen steps required to enter the gathering hall, subsequently forgetting about me too.

After 45 minutes of rolling back and forth in front of the doors and occasionally speaking Marcus’s name out loud, hoping to catch his attention, I decided to give up. Obviously, he was too busy to miss my presence, as were Aro, Caius, my sisters, or my friends in the guard. My feelings were hurt, undoubtedly, but seeing no other option, I decided to return to my room and wait for someone to realize I was absent.

No one noticed.

Hours went by without a peep. No one came to look for me, and no one brought me dinner either. I couldn’t get to the kitchen myself because of the goddamned stairs, so there was nothing left for me to do but stay exactly where I was, hidden in the furthest corner of my room’s veranda, trying not to be hungry and trying not to sob out loud as I cried. My heart was aching as the heavy feeling of abandonment settled over me, and my old friend, self-loathing, started creeping in. The next several hours were filled with ugly thoughts and horrible sadness, and though I wanted to resist that darkness, it completely overwhelmed me once more.

——————

It was nearly midnight when I finally heard my mate’s frantic voice calling out for me from our shared bedroom.

“Y/N!” Marcus called, a hint of desperation in his tone. “Y/N? Where are you my love?”

“Out here, Marcus,” I replied listlessly, barely raising my voice as I knew he could hear me. I was mentally and physically drained from the emotional upheaval of the day and made no real effort to emerge from my safe little hiding spot. I could hear how upset I had made him, and I was unsure if I could face him just then.

“My darling!” He cried, finally spotting me and speeding quickly to my side. His eyes quickly scanned me for injury. “Where have you been, little one? I couldn’t find you.”

I looked down at my hands as I answered him, too afraid to look into his eyes. “I’ve been here, Marcus. All day.”

“But why, tresoro?” He took my hands in his. “Did you not want to meet our guests? Many of them came here just to see you.” I could tell he was disappointed in me and my heart broke just a little bit more.

“I-I-I… did want to…” I stammered, “But I couldn’t. There was no way for me to get into the throne room, Marcus. I was left behind,” I concluded quietly, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

“Left behind?” He questioned.

“Yes.” I paused. “How long, Marcus?” I asked dejectedly.

“How long for what, Y/N? I don’t understand.”

“How long did it take for you to realize I wasn’t there with you, Marcus? 2 hours? 4?”

He closed his eyes as it finally started to sink in. “Y/N, I’m…”

“Disappointed in me?” I whispered. “I understand. I’m sorry, Marcus. I have not been a very good mate to you today, and I have shamed you. I understand why you and the others did not look for me. I have not been an asset to the family.” Tears streamed freely down my face as I tried to apologize for my shortcomings.

“Y/N, no. Please don’t cry.” Marcus begged, crouching down to my level as he tried to comfort me. “It is I who should apologize. It is my duty to look out for you and to protect you. I have failed in that today; I should have remembered you needed help with the steps. There were so many people, and I got caught up….”

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” I interrupted with a sob. “No one came for me all day, and I thought I had done something wrong! Maybe I have become too much of a burden on you..”

“Never, amore!” He said with conviction, bending his head low to kiss my hands.

“But it’s true, Marcus! I know it is! Every day you are forced to do things you would never typically do, all because of me,” I said sadly. “You’re the King of Volterra, Marcus! And I have you spending your days babysitting me. You help me in and out of bed; you help me dress; hell, you’ve even had to help me in the shower a time or two! You’re forced to carry me around this castle all day long - and my wheelchair - because I can’t even get myself to the kitchen to feed myself. I’m asking you for too much, and I don’t want you to resent me for it.” My tears were hot and burned my cheeks as they continued to fall. “I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

“Oh, Y/N,” he soothed. “Come here, darling.” He scooped me out of my wheelchair and into his arms, hugging me tightly to his chest. “Y/N, my heart, I love you! More than anything in the world. You are my mate, and I do all of those things you mentioned before because I want to. I am honored that you allow me to help you throughout the day, and you could never be a burden to me. If anyone should be apologizing here, it should be me! I disappointed you today, and I am sincerely sorry for that. I never want you to feel left behind or unwanted again, and I will spend the rest of our eternity making up for my error today. I will also speak to our contractor about adding some wheelchair ramps where we can and an elevator as well. I should have done so long ago.” He wiped my tears away with the sleeve of his robe. “Can you forgive me, sweetheart? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I nodded slowly against his chest, taking in deep, ragged breaths in an attempt to calm my feelings. I love him so much that not forgiving him was never really an option for me. After a long time, I spoke to him again.

“Marcus?” I asked quietly. “Do you think things will be different… after you change me?”

He smiled at me, gently moving some stray hair out of my eyes before he spoke. He sighed softly, resting his forehead against my own. “I don’t know for sure, my precious one. We have seen vampire venom heal a number of injuries and ailments in the past, sometimes even snatching someone back from the brink of death, like dear Jane and Alec. Every change is different, darling. I want you to know, however, that no matter what the outcome of yours, Y/N, I will always love you and will work to keep you by my side forever.”

“The world’s first vampire in a wheelchair.” I scoffed. “Some claim to fame.”

“How about ‘Queen of Volterra, Mate of King Marcus’ for a claim to fame?” He suggested, gazing at me adoringly.

“That could work,” I giggled, moving to bring our lips together in a tender kiss. “I’m sorry I let my anxiety get the best of me, Marcus.”

“And I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me, my darling girl. Now, I know it’s late, but we need to get some food for you, and then I believe I can come up with some more… creative ways to apologize to you. Interested?”

“Always.”

The end

[scoonsalicious]

I’m gonna be honest but seriously for the first time i thought about how i would react if i was Bucky. surprisingly I’m not mad at him anymore. Tbh if my boyfriend set me couple rules and told me they give me a second chance after i did something bad and THEN i saw them(is their pov an article) that he and MY best friend are hooking i would be fucking furious and in the heat of the moment maybe would do the same.

Like why would you give me hope when you gonna vividly cheat??in the chapter it said the photos looked like they were kissing so it was like a solid proof of cheating and given Steve interest in her i honestly don’t blame Bucky. Give him a break that guy went to hell and back. And then found the shittiest coping mechanisms to deal with his trauma which only hurt him more and then seeing his golden best friend with his gf? Every sane human can see Bucky never actually were interested in jade he just kinda used her to act like he is a normal man that can be actually wanted and not just someone with troubled past that many would want to nothing to do with.

And pocket should be off mission . She is unstable and an addict at this point and needs therapy, her boyfriend and a hug.

And it’s funny i always thought Bucky is the most realistic character in marvel and i feel the same with him in your story.

Love your writing you make them seem so real that all of us get lost to it for a min🤍

Jesus Christ, thank you so much! That is exactly where he was coming from! Like, he tried-- he really did. He was doing what Pocket wanted, he was staying away. And then Carthage is just.. thrust upon him. And he does the right thing. He tells Pocket, immediately, and lets her know what's up, he talks about it with her, gets her advice, and they come up with this gameplan, together-- he will only speak Jade about the mission. And then! Just a few hours later, those articles. For him, it looked like she (Pocket) couldn't wait for him to be out of the country. I didn't explore it in-story (so much stuff that I make up doesn't end up in-story, lol), but one of the things I had had him think about was wondering if Pocket faked being sick so she could stay behind. It's literally his worst fear come to life, after he felt like a failure for not keeping through on his promise to stay away from Carthage. He felt he was being punished, and so he made a stupid, angry decision to get back at her. It's dumb, but he's flawed. He's never wanted Jade (she IS the Unwanted in Unwanted, lol).

And Pocket should definitely be off mission. I can promise it's not going to last much longer (hell, the whole fic isn't going to last much longer ::weeps::), but there's maybe only two days of the mission left.

[connectionterminated13]

We haven’t talked in a bit soooooo

Any new Elizabeth headcanons that you want to share?

Yes it has been a while. And I do have a couple.

Inferno au-

Liz cannot do ballet to save her life. Like she's extraordinarily bad at that.

Elizabeth used to try to take her toys apart and put them back together again the way her dad does with robots because she hoped that maybe he'd pay more attention to her if she did so.

Every Friday her and Michael would have movie night! Mike would make a big bowl of popcorn and they watched like soap opera movies And adventure films.

Elizabeth used to bake cookies with her mom on Sundays, For church. They used to sing together while they worked it was a lot of fun

Elizabeth tried to "run away" after Susie disappeared to go and find her, William stopped her, Saying that Susie would be back in like a week and that her disappearance was nothing to worry about.

Elizabeth after you're the missing kid's incident Started sitting on the far side of Freddy's as far away from chica as she could get. She doesn't like the way Chika looks at her. It makes her want to cry for some reason.

Elizabeth would never admit it but she was a little bit scared of Evan when he was alive. There was just something different about him she used to actually make fun of him a little bit for being "slow" And stirring off into space. She'd even join Michael in spooking him occasionally.

One of her first thoughts win stealing Michael skin as Ennard Is now she could kiss women!! Since now she was Michael she was technically a man so she didn't Need that plausible deniability thing her dad told her about. She ended up kissing no women though because turns out Mike didn't have a girlfriend sad :(

She went through and was going through in emo phase as scrap baby. Like she's listening to My Chemical Romance on repeand being like "it's just like me for real for real"

As scrap baby she hidden in alley drink a pride parade once

Elizabeth liked to sing and run around her room really really fast when she was bored or grounded.

Elizabeth was going to go to visit her family on her mom's side, The year her mom got sick and later died.

Death swap-

Elizabeth and Susie are semi open with their status as a couple. Like they hold hands and hug outside but they rarely if ever kiss. It's hard being lesbians in the 1990s in Utah....

Elizabeth is a little bit scared of ghosts after getting her organs ripped out by one. Like she tries to be brave but FNAF one is fucking scary for her. Doesn't help that she doesn't like working and hates doing sitting in a chair nothing work more than she hates normal working.

Susie Wants to have kids when they're older like 30-40, Elizabeth kind of does too but She doesn't think she could be a good mom and also gay marriage wasn't legalized yet let alone gay adoption.

Even though Mike Scares her a little bit after the whole scoop thing she still accepts him as her brother and eventually charlie's partner once they get there. Even though it is hard for her to look at him without Illusion disks or human suit on.

Elizabeth cannot do taxes this nearly leads to her death more than once drank fnaf 6.

Lizzie is terrified of the idea that 1 day Suzie will die and she won't. Sure Elizabeth loves her brother and Charlie and their other friends but life without Susie doesn't feel right at least the way she imagines it.

Elizabeth is the professional cool aunt to Michael and charlie's son Gregory. He thinks she's awesome :)

Lizzie and Millie au-

Liz will never admit it but she prefers to spend time with Jen As opposed to her own Step mom.

Liz isolated herself from like having real friends for a long time since she feared that if anyone got too close she'd hurt them the way Her dad hurts Henry.

Elizabeth tries to reason with any horrible monster things her parents have made before like getting rid of them since she genuinely believes that at least most of them don't want to be horrible murder Creatures.

She thinks no one knows that she's a lesbian everybody does.

She knows how to fence! You see William and Abigail put Her and Evan in a lot of extracurricular activities because they didn't want either of them around.

She can and will sit through a horror movie with a completely blank face. She's just not scared easily. For the majority of her life she's been surrounded by glimpses of monsters so movie ones don't really freak her out.

She has a distinct disdain for Evan's friend Andrew because he's annoying and evan start springing him around the house like often just to annoy her .

Elizabeth envies Millie a lot since she comes from a relatively normal home and Can Express herself more

I imagine that Elizabeth and Millie au, Is like a mystery of the book kind of thing. Like you know it's formatted like a book series of maybe 10 books and each 1 there's 1 big overworking spooky monster that they need to fight/figure out the weakness of. (Not really a head cannon just wanted to add that in here)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I will not add anything to that last reply because it was absolutely CHEF’S KISS— we love our sad man getting some well deserved cuddles from his baby <3

But I will go back to our talk from this morning/last night/whatever time it was for you then about Joel’s wife

I actually realized I got my math wrong (very surprising 😐) and Sarah was actually FOURTEEN when she died in the show which makes Joel becoming a dad at TWENTY TWO!!!!!!!! Anyways

Totally agree on everything you said but if I can just add: if the mom (let’s call her that because it’s shorter and I’m a lazy ass) had ever voiced the SLIGHTEST discomfort or fear or whatever, Joel would’ve been right next to her, trying to figure out a way to lighten the weight on her shoulders.

She says she doesn’t feel like herself anymore? It’s okay babe, take a bath and I’ll put the baby to sleep and make you some dinner

She says all her friends are traveling and having fun and enjoying their 20s? No problem, I’ll watch the baby tonight and you can catch up with the girls

She says she feels depressed—probably postpartum depression— and being around the baby is too much because she feels like she’s failing? Joel makes sure to help whenever and wherever he can, reminds her that she’s a real fucking force of nature and he’s proud of her; he doesn’t care if he has to say it ten times a day, he’ll say it how many times she needs to hear it

She says she doesn’t know how she can handle all this when he’s away all day? He’ll take all his lunch breaks to spend some time home even if it means barely eating anything and he’ll try to come home as much as he can AT THE SAME TIME he will be taking as many shifts as possible because let’s say the mom is finishing college or she wants to finish her studies or whatever so she can’t work and bring money

Joel doesn’t care about exhaustion or sounds cheesy or whatever, all he cares about is his family.

BUT THEN she just gets tired of it. This is not the life for her. She didn’t even want a kid in the first place and now she has to sacrifice her entire life? She kept it because Joel seemed so happy about it, because even if they would be tight on the money and he’d give up the “young, married couple” phase, they’d have a baby— a mini human half him, half her and he couldn’t see the bad side to that.

And when she leaves, Joel is so lost.

Every night, baby Sarah wakes up and she misses her mama so much. She asks for her constantly. She cries. Piercing screams that break his heart over and over again. Joel has no idea what to do. How can he explain to a baby what’s going on?

And he’s exhausted. He works days and nights, barely has time to eat or shower or do any normal human thing. He’s up for night bottles and he has to figure out how to care for the baby when she’s sick and no one can watch her.

But, the worst part are the night when she wakes up and all she wants is her mommy. Because it’s the moments where joel feels the most useless, the most incapable of dealing with it.

He can’t replace her mom, he can’t calm down his baby because what she needs is the only thing he can’t give her.

And it makes him feel so powerless.

There are some night where he feels like giving up. It’s too much for one person to handle. Sarah deserves a real family. A mom and a dad who know what they’re doing. Not some 20 something fucker who gets the wrong diaper size half of the time.

But then…then he brings her to bed with him and she falls asleep on his chest, tightly holding onto his thumb.

And Joel knows he can’t give that up. It’s hard. It’s so hard he can’t see the end of it. But he adores that little girl. She’s all he has. She’s his entire world and he would snatch the moon and all the stars in the sky if it means seeing the toothy smile and hear the soft “dada” and have her lay on his chest a bit longer.

So Joel carries on. He becomes the dad and the mom, the nurse, the hairdresser, the teacher. Everything a child needs.

Sometimes he messes up, sure. But he learns from his mistakes and yeah, he even gets some help.

The nice teacher notices how Sarah’s pigtails aren’t quite on the same level but she knows about Joel’s situation so she tells him “hey, if you bring her a bit early in the morning with a brush and some hair ties, I can do that for you or at least show you”

The dad next door makes sure to invite Joel for BBQs and always invite Sarah on saturdays to play with the kids, that way Joel can go to work and come home with a bathed, fed and happy child.

Tommy always helps for tea parties, birthdays, whenever he can give a hand because yeah, his big brother has been through too much shit to just deal with everything all by himself—even if sometimes he’s too proud to ask for help

So my point is, Sarah’s mom, really screw you. And Joel, baby, I’m proud of you and I love you, you’re doing a great job <3

Now all I can think about is Joel with a baby on his chest... damn you!!!!!!!!!!! 😫😫😫😫

I feel like the fact itself that he tried so hard and she still left him would absolutely break him. Because he would be there thinking that maybe he missed something, maybe he still didn't do enough, maybe he is just not good enough as it is. It would mess with his head so bad. But yeah... Joel has to stay strong for Sarah and I feel like all the little smiles, giggles that she would give Joel would make it all one hundred times better. He knows that he would never be able to give Sarah up. Now it's Joel and Sarah against the world.

[rbelle310]

Sakusa Kiyoomi is a man of habit and discipline, the kind of man who only hits the snooze button once (to show just enough humanity but not too much weakness), carries a water tumbler of a designated colour on each day and finishes his leftovers every week.

He finds comfort in the mundane. There is no such thing as 'same old' for Kiyoomi who infamously wears the most tatty boxers known to man. Nevermind the fact that the elastic has all gone out of the bands so he can't even wear them standing up without them almost falling off. To Kiyoomi, they are the most comfortable pair he owns.

They're just barely hanging on by virtue off his ass and hips. Atsumu splutters when he discovers this one day in the locker room when Kiyoomi starts changing, his boxers are clearly falling down even before he gets his pants off.

"What is with those boxers?!"

Kiyoomi scoffs defensively as he changes into his compression shorts, "They're my favourite. They're the most comfortable."

"They weren't even covering your ass when ya took yer pants off! That looks like the opposite of comfortable! In fact, if y'opened a dictionary and looked up "uncomfortable" there'd be a picture of those boxers!"

After much nagging, persuasion, and unsolicited gifts of Calvin Kleins, Kiyoomi would finally be persuaded against wearing the tatty old boxers out. And all is well. Or so Atsumu thinks until they start dating.

Then he realises that the ratty boxers and equally ratty t-shirts are pretty much Omi's go-to lounge wear. He wakes up to see Omi shuffling around with his ass half hanging out. Normally that would be hot, but the boxers are so ancient that they deeply disturb Atsumu.

Atsumu makes it his life mission (or at least, for the next month) to get rid of the boxers. But he can't just throw them out. Not even secretly because:

1) that's not what a good boyfriend would do in a healthy relationship 2) Omi would totally know it was him anyway.

His first Plan is to bury the boxers deep in the back of the drawer. He reasons that the Real Reason Omi wears them so frequently is convenience, like how most people would just take the first article available to them.

He underestimates Omi's persistance in digging out and rearranging his underwear drawer, which he does with great enthusiasm.

Atsumu's second Plan is to simply "forget" the boxers in the washing machine. It's the peak of the rainy season so boxers sitting lost in the damp machine for a day or more will probably smell so gross that Omi would have no choice but to toss them.

Unfortunately, he comes back from a run to find the boxers hanging accusingly on the big plastic rack with the rest of the small laundry items.

"You missed one." says Omi, glancing at him over the pages of his magazine.

"Oh! Haha! Oops! Sorry bout that Omi! Haha… Ha…" Atsumu laughs, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with his boyfriend.

Thwarted again, Atsumu glares at the underwear as soon as Omi's attention returns to his reading.

Plan Three: destroy them during sex.

Yes, he'll just rip them off. Look, they're so threadbare, he could probably shred them like stripper pants.

Orrrr… They could just fall off between kisses as he urges Omi into the bedroom. Atsumu's own libido is his undoing as he doesn't even notice that Omi steps smoothly out of the scrap of fabric that falls around his ankles as they stumble along.

"They're so hideous, Samu!" Atsumu laments to his brother one afternoon, "They're so holey ya could strain ramen with'm."

Osamu rolls his eyes and gives his other customers an apologetic shrug for his embarrassment of a twin. "Why don't ya just tell him that, please I beg ya. So ya can stop talkin about underwear durin my lunch rush."

"But they're his favourite! He says they're comfy!" Atsumu whines around a mouthful of food.

"Then maybe they're really comfortable. Now finish yer food, I got customers lined up…"

Atsumu sulkily chows down and takes a bag of onigiri to go for Omi's dinner.

The apartment is still empty when he gets home, Omi's clearly still at his media interview.

Atsumu puts the food in the fridge, washes his hands and goes into the bedroom where the hated boxers peek out of the dresser drawer.

The horrible, threadbare and faded thing seems to stare challengingly in defiance of all prior assassination attempts.

Just how bloody comfortable could they be? He wonders. Omi keeps insisting they are. It's not that Atsumu doesn't want to believe his boyfriend…

He furtively looks around (despite so obviously being home alone) and shucks his jeans and briefs.

Stepping into the ratty boxers feels like stepping off a cliff. They're so thin they honestly feel like he's hardly wearing anything at all, but being of a slightly broader build than Omi, they're not as loose.

Actually, they probably fit him a little better. The ancient cotton feels really soft too. Atsumu thought that the holes puncturing the seams would make him feel exposed, but he barely notices because of how light the boxers are.

"…Huh." Atsumu mumbles to himself, "They're actually kinda nice."

Atsumu tugs tentatively at the waistband, wary of damaging what little elastic remains. It stretches with hardly any resistance.

He really should take them off, Omi will be home any minute…

"I told you they were comfortable."

Atsumu screams. He jumps and screams like a girl and covers his backside as if he could hide the obvious crime of wearing his boyfriend's underwear.

Omi is leaning against the door frame of the en-suite bathroom, still wet from the tub and clad in nothing but a towel and a smirk.

"I-- WHEN WHEN DID YOU GET HOME?!"

"I've been home. Didn't you see my shoes?"

Atsumu hadn't. Omi's so neat that if he doesn't go out of his way to open the shoe closet, he wouldn't have noticed. Omi was neat and fastidious about everything except these boxers.

Omi looks Atsumu up and down. The setter, thoroughly embarrassed, pulls the hem of his t-shirt down over the boxers.

"Nice to know they still fit though."

"…eh?" Atsumu blinks.

His boyfriend's expression is a peculiar mix of bashful amusement.

He saunters over, hooking a finger on the fragile waistband again and tugging gently on the battered elastic so that Atsumu can see the very faded lines of some sort of marker on the inside.

If he squints he can read the kanji:

侑

"I didn't steal them. Our last training camp in Tokyo, way back then. You were in such a hurry to go home and see your brother, you started shoving things in my bag cause nobody could leave till everyone was ready…"

Atsumu… sort of remembered that. Those camps were the longest time he'd ever had to spend away from Osamu. By the end of them, he'd be homesick and ready to run all the way back to Hyogo if he had to.

"Ya coulda tossed them…"

"…I was going to give them back, but suddenly in the crowded gym in the middle of Nationals… I wondered what the hell I was thinking. There wasn't a good time and… Well…"

Omi's more red than amused now that the gravity of what he's admitting finally hits him.

Atsumu doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. He stops pulling on his t-shirt and insteads puts his arms around his silly, sentimental and kinda pervy Omi to instead pull him into a hug.

"So… You'd rather just wear my boxers fer 8 years than tell me ya liked me?"

Omi buries his pouty cheeks into his shoulder. "I thought you knew when you saw them."

"How am I supposed to recognise boxers I lost when I was 18?" Atsumu huffs a laugh, especially when Omi slides a hand around to squeeze his butt through his long lost underwear.

"They really are pretty comfy though. " He adds.

"The comfiest." Omi agrees.

"They just don't make them like this anymore. I wish I could remember where I got'm…"

A couple of months later, after a short vacation, the rest of MSBY happen to look over as Omi and Atsumu are changing. Whatever they're wearing under their slacks aren't exactly branded, which is extremely unusual for Atsumu, but they are matching.

Most hilarious or perhaps cutest of all is are the characters scribbled in marker on the waistbands. A 侑 on Omi's and a 臣 on Atsumu's.

[magical-mistakes-vm]

11

By the time that Baldur and Elmar came back into the room, Mahala was sitting up on the couch and leaning against Vollrath’s shoulder with his arm around her.  Elmar’s jacket was now on the back of one of the conference table chairs and had been replaced by Vollrath’s.  The two friends looking over at the couple couldn’t remember any time in their long friendships that they’d seen Vollrath like that with a woman.  They could only hope that this wasn’t a mistake on any of their parts.

“Is she feeling better?” It was Elmar who spoke and walked in to slip on his jacket again.  He stood at the end of the room, not really wanting to test the waters after earlier. Even having noticed the jealousy building in Vollarath, he could not have anticipated the reaction that had eventually happened.  Normally when irritated, his friend had a more verbal or physical reaction.  That it had ended up being a mystical one, and one that injured an innocent party, did bother Elmar.

“I am.  And from now on when you two piss him off, he’s going to take it out on you, not me.” Mahala’s voice sounded tired, but at least her head no longer felt like it was in a vice.  Vollrath had at least remedied that for her in ways that she still did not fully understand.  Magic was real, she was a witch, and the man that she was inexplicably drawn to was a powerful warlock…that was going to take a little bit to sink completely in..  “I don’t appreciate what either of you did, even if that hadn’t happened.  I want that completely clear. I was nothing but polite and respectful to both of you, and did not deserve to be used in some…” her eyes closed as she sought for the right word to use.  She was frustrated and that and the remnants of the headache made it hard for her to be as eloquent as normal.

Vollrath leaned over, kissing her temple and adding some extra healing as he did, to try to help. The look he was giving both Baldur and Elmar made it clear that he was still enraged, but controlling himself for her sake. He was not going to cause her one drop more of pain, even if he could remove it afterward.  The two men, well, that was a different story for a different time.

Finally Mahala’s eyes opened and she stood, a bit unsteady and using Vollrath’s shoulder for balance.  “Baldur, Elmar, her head turned slightly as she addressed them each.  “I am not a pawn to be used in some kind of game that you play with your friend to see if you can cause a reaction.  I am not a button to be pressed or a toy that can be manipulated to see if you can make him have a temper tantrum.  I am a living, breathing, human who also just so happens to be a witch coming into your coven, and what you did was not only unfair, it was insulting and demeaning. My mother fled from the Codona mansion either slightly before or right after I was born, she hid my abilities as well as her own from me for my entire life, and now I’m wondering if she was fleeing this Coven.”

Both Baldur and Elmar realized their gross miscalculation in their earlier actions on both a personal level and as leaders of the Coven.  While they had just seen how it was affecting Vollrath and been acting to get a reaction at his expense, they now saw how that looked to Mahala.  She was a new witch, who had faced off against Vollrath, of all warlocks, in the dark the night before and came out with him almost worshiping at her feet.  Yet she walks into their office the next day and they treat her as something just to get a rise out of their friend.  

“Mahala, I’m sorry.” Baldur said.  He now felt the regret he had seen etched in every line of his friend’s face when he’d left the office.  “We made a grave mistake in how we treated you, and I feel bad about it.” It was an honest statement and he knew that there was no way to step back and make it better now.  Forward would be different.

“You damn well should.” She was not going to give an inch, and she wanted that clear to both of them. “You behaved so juvenilely in this office that you should both be ashamed.  Save any further words, because the only redemption you’ll earn will be through actions.”  She looked at both of them and sighed heavily.  Mahala was feeling exceedingly tired, no doubt lingering effects from what had happened a short time prior in the office.  “I had really hoped to come here today and for things to go well.  It seems…I hoped in vain.” Her eyes and head tipped forward simultaneously, feeling a bit of defeat.  The previous night had shown her that she could not handle everything herself, she had hoped that the three of them would help her.  The only consolation was that Vollrath still would, even if the other two decided to bow out.

There was a slight wobble in Mahala’s balance, and Vollrath was on his feet in an instant with his arm around her waist to steady her.  Both of his friends had seen the kiss to her forehead that had almost seemed a completely natural action, and now how quickly he had just reacted was unlike anything they had witnessed as well.  There could be no missing that there was more at work than just simple attraction.  Physical attraction alone did not make such drastic changes to someone’s behavior overnight, not to someone as set in his ways as Vollrath was.  Mistakes had certainly been made on their part to agitate him. 

“Please sit and rest sweetheart, let me get you a snack and some tea.  You need to get your blood sugar up.”  Vollrath helped her to relax back onto the couch before placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.  Then walked towards the other men, his eyes hard and face serious.  “Walk with me gentlemen.  Let’s talk in another room for a minute.  I think the three of us have upset her enough for one day.”  His brows rose as he passed them and headed through the door.  Both men followed without a word, they knew an order when they heard one.