#I like the idea that Nightmare picked up all these guys because he thought they were cool (ultimately that's his position)

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Error's Wacky Wild Plan)

Hi guys. So. Crazy Story. The crisis that stopped me from working on my banner art actually catapulted me into writing this drabble finally! (Also the wonderful @ancha-aus was also a life-saver and helped me hammer out a few plot points for this installment <3)

Currently my only context for this drabble is that Error is tiny, and ran away from home because Geno moved to Reaper's kingdom to make money to send back home, and Fresh spent too long away on his trip. Error was expelled from his magic academy and came home to an empty house, so he left! Now he's been on the road for about a month? Nightmare has been ruling for about 6-ish years now, almost 7.

(Hello @mutzelputz and @papiliovolens hi guys!!!)

     The town was bustling. 

   Error had been through a lot of towns since he’d left. Big ones, small ones, ones he was convinced weren’t even towns at all, just a few barns in a general closeness to one another who decided they needed to call themselves something besides the outskirts. Those people had been particularly hostile to his passing through.

   And, lately, they’d been really weird. People staring at him when he’d walk on the streets, or pass by shops. When they saw he had money from a different kingdom (he didn’t even realize he’d left his own, but he figured it meant he was on the right path) they’d squeeze their faces like they bit a lemon and hastily take his coin. Like it was cursed, or something. They were lucky it wasn’t cursed, honestly. He could probably figure out how to do that.

    This town, though, was filled so full with people that he imagined they couldn’t look at him weird if they wanted to. 

   People were riding horses, chatting in the streets, all sorts of stalls and merchants were peddling goods, and he was almost positive he could hear music lifting down the street over the general drone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d run into a place so busy. He’d always been told to stick to the side, out of the way, out of danger. 

   He didn’t have to listen to that anymore. Though, he did skirt the crowds. The mass of people seemed all too willing to bump shoulders or elbows with each other in the early morning sun, and the last thing he wanted was to have his magic act up in a crowd. He’d done well so far. 

   Every booth, every merchant, every passerby seemed jubilant, ebbing and flowing. It was like some sort of party. 

   That was, until, Error spotted it.

   A big building, something that Error recognized only vaguely. 

   It was an amphitheatre. 

   Geno had taken him to see one once. Or, at least, the ruin of one. It hadn’t been too far from their home, and it was pretty abandoned and lonely. Plants had crawled up its walls, stones had fallen off in chunks, animals seemed to have deemed its high windows a perfect spot to build nests. It had been breathtaking, and ancient. 

   This one? Seemed perfectly in-use. 

   The walls were all in-tact, stones, an easy to look at grey, smooth and covered in little intricate carvings. Spells, he had to imagine, in some language he didn’t know. Curtains hung over the huge arched entrances, and heavy gates seemed to be lifted, the spikes at the base loomed over the heads of every passerby. 

   He couldn’t help but marvel. Was this a restoration, or maybe it was new. Some sort of imitation. Regardless, he found that his feet carried him to one of the entrances, which stood largely empty aside from some folks who looked strikingly like guards.

   Two of them stood, long spears in-hand. They both stood stock still as Error approached, and didn’t move a muscle as he passed them. They were strange, definitely different. Not at all the town guard he was familiar with. 

   The inside of the theatre was even more impressive. Rows and rows of stands seemed to line up either side. Huge tapestry hung from the high arches past those seats, and down the runways of the bleachers, all a bright teal and dark navy blue. They seemed fancy, and much newer than the curtains which had hung in the entrance. 

   Beyond the walkway where he stood, was a set of stairs which led down a level or so, before it leveled out into an open space. Sandy, and very flat. It seemed like there were people there, too. A much smaller crowd, but still a crowd nonetheless. 

   Error was almost amazed he’d not been stopped by someone yet. Whatever was going on seemed important, and so far in his experience, people did not like him sticking his nose into important business. 

   With that in mind, he decided he’d stick to the entryway for now. He leaned his bag up against the wall and watched from a position where the sun still shadowed his form. He was often grateful for his miscolored bones. It made hiding in the dark a whole lot easier. 

   It took a bit for him to really process what he was watching in the morning light. 

   There were four people sat on a sort of raised box toward the front of a stage. A huge stage, raised up off the sand with wood slats. They had a long-table before them, and quills and ink jars in-hand. Well, three were sitting. One was standing. But the point is, they were all watching the stage very attentively. 

   On-stage there was… basically nothing. Only a simple backdrop Error had to imagine was there at all times, because it looked like it was coated in sand, even from the distance where he stood.

   A person would enter the stage, the people sat on the box would speak to them, and then there was a flare of magic. Another. Another. And then they were dismissed. 

   It wasn’t until he really bothered to think about what magic was being cast that he realized those were extremely simple spells being used. Levitate, Create Water, Mimicry. Or Flame, Gust, Light. All just three easy spells, and then they were off-stage. That was taught magic. It gave him memories of his entrance exam to his school. He’d been way overqualified to get in, Geno taught him after all…

   But, no, this didn’t feel the same. There were plenty of people who seemed to stumble at spells they didn’t recognize, or who couldn’t muster a simple breeze. Then others who were very old and obviously skilled. Obviously they found the three spells to be child’s play. Like Error would. This was no entrance exam, so what-

   “Hey, pipsqueak, what are you doing there in the dark?” A voice startled him, and it took all of his willpower to avoid jumping away from its origin. 

   Error twisted rapidly, just in time to avoid the thrust of an elbow in his direction. 

   There was a monster there. Three, actually. Two lizards, both bright green and tropical, and one who looked more like a dragon. The green one closer to him must have spoken, because he laughed at Error’s flinch. 

   “Why are you bothering me?” Error shot back haughtily. 

   The lizard seemed to grin at the response.  

   “Oh, so we’ve got a feisty little small fry here? Thinks he’s scoping out the competition?” The dragonish one hissed, voice deep. 

   The other green one tittered a giggle, “So cute! I can’t believe the King really decided to let just anyone try out for Royal Mage.” 

   Oh…

   The lizard before him seemed to take this silence as a weakness, and reached out quicker than Error could react. A flick to the middle of his forehead. 

   Error winced and pulled away, back and into the arena. He grit his teeth and clutched his skull, where at the same moment the lizard jumped back and shook their hand in the air a bit. His magic had reacted poorly again, and while it was better than it used to be, it still stung like 5 wasps touching down and stinging the same point all at once. 

   “Little freak.” Was all the monster hissed, before he fled. His two friends moving on behind him in confusion. Approaching the line to the stage. 

   Error stood there in the sun for a moment, rubbing at his forehead until the pain was more of a numb static. 

   If anything, he appreciated the little run-in with those wanna-bes. Now he knew exactly what this was, and why it had felt so familiar to him. 

   The Mage Trials. 

   Geno had to go through them, and he’s been very thorough about his every single detail while doing it. Even though he was the best mage Error had ever known, he’d still stressed and wrote page after page of plans and spells and had placed them into a folder that felt thicker than an encyclopedia. Geno had always been the only one of them who bothered studying. Fresh couldn’t go to school anymore, and Error… Well, Error didn’t need to. 

   Thinking about it, Geno had been very quiet about it, but Error had looked into his folder a few times. Just out of curiosity. It’d been split into three rounds, something Geno had said was standardized. The first was a test of someone’s basic magic skills, the second were more complex spells which the mage has practice in, and the third, the one that had given Geno the most grief, was the personal spell round. In the last one, there were no restrictions to what someone could do, so long as they had done the work themselves, and that it mostly used magic. 

   If he was right, and he usually was, then this was the first round. Eliminating those with nothing but a hope and a prayer in their pocket before they got embarrassed before the one looking for the Mage in the first place. In this case, whoever this kingdom’s king even was. 

   In just a few moments, Error had decided. 

   This was how he’d prove himself. 

   The line was already starting to get longer, and he didn’t want to be here until nightfall in a queue. He dusted off his scarf, his shoes, his bag, and set off into the bright sun to secure his place in this contest. No prep. No warning. Just with his raw skill and what he’d learned so far. Nothing could possibly go wrong. 

.

   Finally. 

   Error felt like it had been hours in the warm sun before he was finally up next. 

   He’d been watching, of course. Watching as the people before him were passed or failed. It was just as he’d expected, and he couldn’t help but be a bit giddy as the two green lizard who’d bothered him earlier both failed. Though their dragonish friend had passed, it was still enough of a victory for him.

   Along with that, he noticed that the three people sat were all in robes of nobles. Something the wealthy and lofty would think to wear in a blazing hot arena all day. The one standing, though, was wearing all black. A hood was over his head, but Error thought he might be some sort of cat-monster. Very stone faced, very still. The only time Error had seen him move was seemingly to veto whatever choice the other three were making. He thought it was interesting. 

   That didn’t matter, though. 

   Based on what he’d seen, these people wouldn’t have any qualms with his magic. He was much better than half the people who’d already been passed, and knew he could keep him calm up on the stage. It’d be just like his entrance exam. 

   He watched as the monster who’d gone before him, a skeleton who was twice his height and twice as animal-ish, bowed gratefully to the people on the boxes, the evaluators, and exited. She’d passed fairly easily, Error thought. Though, her focus seemed elsewhere based on how shaky the hold on her last flame had been. 

   “Next!” 

   The call was shrill, and Error had heard it over a hundred times already today, but this time it bounced in his ears as he lifted himself up the steps and strode onstage. 

   If he’d thought about it, he would’ve tried to find a place to stache his bag, but it was too late for that, and frankly he didn’t trust it not to get stolen once it was out of his sight. Not with how busy the city seemed. 

   When he was stood in the center of the stage, he looked out across the way to the evaluators. They seemed closer up here than they did when he was on the ground. Interesting. 

   “First spell,” The person on the far left called, though Error could tell now that it was a voice projection spell. So they didn’t strain their vocal chords, “ Levitate.”

   That was simple. One of the first spells he’d been taught as a kid. 

   His eyes skimmed briefly, there had been a few props on stage that he only noticed once he was closer that were meant to be used with this sort of spell, but Error wasn’t for that. Instead, he muttered the words under his breath, outstretched a hand, and felt his magic reach out around him. Beyond the stage. 

   There… There was a barrier of some sorts, pushing back against his magic, between himself and the evaluators. He furrowed his brow and urged his magic forward. He didn’t have to break through it. He just. Had to- His magic felt like it was looping and wriggling like a worm through the dirt, but when it broke through on the other end, it felt so much more clear. He could feel a potent magic there, something raw and wet, like the air before a storm. 

   That didn’t matter, though. None of it did, because he was on a mission. His magic finally found its target, the stacks of ink bottles which the middle evaluator had just before their parchment. The magic latched on, and Error finally allowed himself a grin as he tugged his hand upwards. They floated calmly into the air, three of them, and did a quick spinning motion, before settling back down just where he’d found them.

   He didn’t catch the looks on the threes faces, but he had to imagine they were priceless. He was more focused on letting the spell dissipate and preparing for the next. 

   It took a moment, before, “Second Spell,” They said, “Create Water.” 

   Another easy one. 

   Error held his hand out again, though this time his palm faced the sky rather than the ground. At the mutter of his words, he could feel the water manifesting. Tiny droplets leaking from his fingers and into the air above his open palm, where he let it gather into a nice, easy sphere. 

   It hovered, and for this one he could see the nods from the three evaluators. The fourth, the cat monster, didn’t move an inch. A good sign. 

   Error, after a breath, moved the orb of water and simply set it on the stage floor. If he had to release it, he didn’t exactly want to get his clothes wet. That orb tended to shoot outwards when he released it, and the water would go everywhere. 

   “Third spell,” They must’ve been contented with his simply setting down the water, for they continued, “Flame.”

   Ah, one of his favorites. He was never very good at it, of course, but it was certainly very fun. If nothing else it’d be a taste of his raw power.

   He rolled up his hanging sleeves, quickly using strands of string to wrap them in place, before he picked back up the water orb in one hand. With the other, he faced his palm toward the side of it, and spoke the words for the flame spell. 

   The heat gathered in his wrist, and all at once shot out of his palm, like a cannon blast. The heat was intense, and Error laughed quietly to himself in pure elation as the fire did exactly what he was hoping. All at once, his glasses fogged, and a burst of steam blew past his face, off to the exiting side of the stage. He’d evaporated his orb, no longer needing to risk someone seeing him fumble with it and soak himself. 

   He let the fire die after a few second, and quickly grabbed the hem of his scarf to wipe down his glasses from the fog left behind on their surface. 

   The moment the red rims were back on the bridge of his nose, the voice spoke up again. 

   “Name?”

   Error cleared his throat, before calling back his name in response. Just the first one, the last one didn’t matter anymore. 

   There was another few breaths of quiet, before, 

   “Age?”

   Error hadn’t heard them ask anyone else for their age, but he figured they’d noticed. How strong and talented he was at such a young age. 

  He puffed up his chest when he announced, “Twelve!” to the arena. 

   There were a few muffled murmurs from the line, but Error was too busy grinning across the way at the evaluators as they seemed to talk amongst themselves. 

   He was ready to hear the word that would mark him to continue. The next part was tomorrow, after this round was concluded and the king arrived. He’d heard about it in the line while he was waiting. 

   One of the evaluators lifted their gaze back to him. Opened their mouth.

   “Disqualified.”

   That.

   Huh?

   Error must’ve visibly glitched at the response, because one of the evaluators seemed to flinch. Ever so slightly. 

   “How come?!” Error called back, reservations immediately fleeing his mind.

   How could they disqualify him? He hadn’t heard them do that to literally anyone else so far today. 

   The evaluator on the far right spoke up, “Too young. Now please move off the-”

   Error might’ve let his mouth speak before his mind, if he hadn’t seen the way the mysterious cat monster seemed to slink forward. A simple tap to the evaluator’s side and they stopped mid-sentence, attention drawing to the person. 

   He waited with balled fists. Hoping, against it all, that this person was using his mighty veto powers to get him his passing review. 

   “The Knight wishes to speak to you further.” They said, when the person, the Knight, took a step back. “Exit the stage.” 

   Mm. 

   This was his chance. This was his moment. He was being allowed to move on, he was sure of it. It had to be. 

   He practically scrambled off the stage and down the steps, and found that the Knight had closed the distance very quickly. He gestured silently for Error to follow him off to the side of the arena, seemingly outside of the voice spell’s range, as the noise of magic and calling for the next viewer seemed all muffled and contained. 

   Something Error noticed about the guy, now that he was right beside him walking along, was also that he wasn’t a cat monster. No, he had some sort of mask shaped like a cat. Black spots painted on black fur, with piercing white eyelights hidden in the darkness cast by his black hood. A cloth mask covered the lower half of his face, so Error would’ve had no idea what kind of monster he was, if he hadn’t left his hands uncovered. They were grey and grimy, but they were most certainly bones. 

   The other thing he noticed, was the magic. That damp, airy magic was no-doubt from this guy. It practically enveloped the both of them until they were stood in the shade of the wall separating bleachers from arena floor. 

   “You said you’re twelve?” He finally asked, shifting on his feet to look at Error. 

   The last thing he noticed, which only happened once he was able to look past the aura, was that. Well. He was a bit taller than this guy. Not by much, but there was certainly something stark about having to look a bit downwards to meet his eyelights. 

   “Yes, I am.” He claimed proudly, still convinced this was to be his ride to the top.

   The knight seemed to skim him with his eyes. Surely taking in Error’s clothes, his bag, his glasses, the weird bones. Though, it didn’t feel pervasive. 

   “Impressively strong for a kid,” He praised loosely, “And probably talented in spells if the nerds were any indication.” 

   His voice was quiet and raspy, but Error had no problem listening to it. This strong and very cool guy who was called a ‘knight’ was praising him. This was much better than getting yelled at by his professors. Much. 

   “Does that mean I passed?” He asked impatiently. 

   He needed this. He needed this. 

   The guy’s eyelights lingered on his face a bit, and it was then that Error finally noticed how virtually unreadable this guy was. Impossibly quiet, posture unmoving, all facial features shrouded in shadow and covered by masks?

   “I’m not sure what kingdom you’re from, but you’ve got to understand that the folks up there didn’t say no because you’re bad. They said no because the king made a new decree. “No soul under the age of 16 shall be put to work under the crown.” They’ve gotta take it seriously, just like everyone else has to follow the new rules about their own shops and businesses.” He said evenly, eyelights never leaving Error’s face. “You’re a couple years too early is all.” 

   It felt like he’d been shoved into a ditch, and he could already feel his right hand starting to tremble with the beginnings of a glitch. He was furious! How could they possibly say no to him because of some stupid rule about his age? 

   “No!” He exclaimed, trying to bite back the distortion on his voice, “I’m not going to just walk away. If I could just move on to the next round, they’d see I’m different! I’m not some weak little baby!” 

   He clenched his fists, driving his jittering one forcefully into his pocket. 

   The knight didn’t even flinch at his declaration. 

   “They’ve already seen that.” He said easily. “Listen to me. Error, right?” 

   Error hesitantly nodded. 

   “Error, ‘m sure that if my Lord saw you in action, he too would agree that you are very strong and resourceful.” The knight said, and Error hated that it sounded earnest. “But, he set that law into place for very good reason. If by any means those folks back there were to let you through, to pass you, and you made it before the king next round? They’d have committed treason, and I’d have their souls on the end of my bone in three seconds flat.” 

   His voice was hard and serious, and Error held strong as a loud crack echoed out beside the knight. A bone raised from the ground, sharp and jagged on the end, absolutely radiating magic. 

   “Do you really want their blood on your conscience, just so that you get sent away by the King anyways?” The knight offered. 

   Error hunched his shoulders a bit, and he felt his static worsen as he let his eyes linger on the bone. Yes. He muttered inside his head. He wanted to scream it at the man before him. Tell him that this was his one golden chance to prove himself. 

   But to who? He would ask, and Error wouldn’t be able to say it. It’d be a wasted sentiment and wasted time and wasted lives just for his temper tantrum. 

   “...No.” He bit out meekly. 

   He stood there, feeling a familiar shame creep up his spine. The knight made no move to leave, though he did let his bone disappear. The ground looked untouched from where it had split out of. Just more sand. Sand that was getting into Error’s bones. That he’d have to clean out later. Swinging in his hammock, lonely and moping. 

   “Heh,” The chuckle was almost inaudible, and Error was almost ready to let his distress turn back into rage, but, “Better kid than I was.” The Knight mused into the open air.

   He seemed to shift his stance again, and Error took a half step back. 

   “You’ve got your life ahead of you, kid. Don’t let this keep you down. Take the road less traveled by or whatever.” He said then, waving a hand loosely before him. 

   Error stared at him, trying to even his breath, before he had an idea. 

   “The other two rounds will be here, right?” He asked, voice still harshly stuttering and screeching. The Knight seemed unbothered.

   “Yeah. Planning on sticking around to watch?” The knight questioned, though it felt more like a warning. 

   Error nodded in agreement without hesitation. “If these geezers can get the job, I need to see what kind of tricks they have up their sleeves.” He agreed. 

   That earned another little chuckle, before the knight looked back to the stage. 

   Up in the center was a new mage, a human who seemed to be making a pretty wild wind that was whipping the sand around, bothering the people in line behind him. Error heard the knight make a scoffing noise, before turning back towards the stage.

   “Go hang around somewhere else for a while, why don’t you? I have to go make sure those nerds don’t pass that guy.” 

   Error didn’t even get to say a farewell before the Knight was off. 

   It seemed like every stride he teleported a bit further, building speed until he stopped cleanly up on the pedestal. Just in time for the sandstorm to die down. 

   Error didn’t want to walk away from this, he didn’t, but staying would only waste his time. It only took a few more seconds, to watch the knight nudge the evaluator and hear the muffled call of ‘fail’ ring out across the arena before he was turning tail and moving out of the sandy paradise, back into the bustle of the living city. 

.

.

.

   It was impossible to miss it. The sounds of celebration as the monarch entered the town. 

   Error could see the royal carriage from his perch, an old temple tower that had at some point lost its bell. It seemed untouched, birds nests and cobwebs, so he’d set up a hammock and a little makeshift shelter inside using his strings just before night fell. 

   He’d snatched some food from the town as dusk was setting in, and he’d been comfortably whittling away the dark hours, working hard on his plan. 

   With the King officially in town, that meant the second round would be starting up shortly, taking the numbers of who would be in the third round down by hundreds. He hoped the king was stingy about it. He hoped that dragonish monster would stumble on his spell and turn someone into a frog. 

   The thought humored him, and he cackled quietly to himself from his makeshift room. 

   The sun was high again, and he was only a part of the way through. His spells required a lot of his magic to be woven into them, and while it was much much faster than what he’d heard was the usual, it was still difficult to make. 

   Weaving the blue strings from his sockets, to his fingers, around his fingertips, and into the shapes he needed. It was monotonous, and boring by all accounts, but with every strand there was a new flow of power. A new pump of adrenaline into Error’s soul as he recognized his creation becoming more potent. Intent, intent, intent, every loop and knot was filled to the brim with it. His frustration sat at the core. Much more volatile and destructive than his usual intent, but it would serve him well if he wanted this plan to go well. Around it was his determination. The strings woven in with a sense of stubbornness which refused to let go, like a snake swallowing its prey whole. This would compress the first layer into a proper state. Let it coil and coil and coil until it burst. It’d be big, and loud, and send out that message he so desperately needed to be heard by the king. 

   Skipping the second round would probably hurt him in the long run, but… That knight had said he’d have to kill those people if he showed his face in round two. So, he’d just appear in round three instead, and make up for missing the second one. A final act, of sorts. 

   He’d have to be at this all day to make the time crunch. The orb was hardly as big as his palm, not nearly big enough. Though, he had wasted time making the shelter and finding food. He’d just have to skip a couple meals to make up for it. He didn’t really need to eat that much anyways, he’d known that for years. He just tried to make an effort when he smelled something tasty. 

   He knew he could manage. 

   It was late in the night when Error finally started on the outer layers. Those which would be filled with his patience, so that the potent insides would not be sensed as he moved with it among the many magic users. 

   The town had begun to line the streets with torches and party as the stars arrived. No doubt celebrating those who would be at the third and final round tomorrow. The ones who would be competing to become the new Royal Mage. 

   To Error? Every single moment down there was dedicated to him. They just didn’t know it yet. 

.

.

.

   The morning came, and Error only had a few more layers. 

   By the time the sun was almost in the center of the sky above, he had finished it, and carefully tucked it into his backpack. He unraveled the strings and carefully wrapped them, shaping them, changing them into a thin net with long ends. This was shoved into his jacket sleeve, the ends clutched tight in his hand. 

   It took him hardly any time at all to get to the arena, and he was early. 

   Good.

   He settled himself up in the stands, as close to the stage as he could get. Many people seemed to be staying outside the arena, sticking to the streets, but there was still enough of a crowd in the bleachers that Error had to be careful as he worked his way along the edges. He needed to be closer. Closer…

   There. 

   He stood at the railing behind the stage. 

   From here, he could see the line to the left, and he could see the people who had finished lingering on the other side. None of them spoke to each other, only standing about, icily, waiting for the rest to finish so they’d know which of them was chosen, and who was not. Error had to imagine that these folks were just as lame and boring as the seniors from his old academy. No fun at all. 

   He waited, so, so patiently, for the next few people. The last few. 

   Though he couldn’t see the spells themselves, he could certainly feel the pressure coming off of them. The control that they’d need to balance it. How much it might’ve drained their energy to do it just once. He was attuned to that sort of thing, he had to be. 

   His assessment was that all of these last few folks weren’t bad, but they were no match for Error’s raw talent. 

   Each spell cast seemed to tick away at Error’s patience, until it finally happened. The last mage went on-stage. It seemed there had been 15 of them. 

   He’d have to make 16, then. 

   It felt like a blur as he jumped the rails and let his strings carry him across the open space, much to the shock of the few who had been watching the competitors from around him. The blue lines snatched at the wooden supports of the stage, and he swung right over top, landing a bit messily in the center of the stage.

   He didn’t have time to look at everything. All he knew was the crowd was much larger than last time, that there was a shout of ‘Hey!’’ from somewhere to his left, and that the box across from the stage now held only three people. Monsters. One Error recognized, the knight in shadows who’d spoken to him. The other two he didn’t know, but he had to assume the one in the middle, tall and imposing, and dark, with an eyelight the same colors as the tapestries, was the King he was looking to impress. That was all he needed to know. 

   “M’lord, my name is Error!” He called out across the sand, and in one motion he shrugged the bag off his shoulders and used his strings to tug the orb out of its canvas body. “I want to prove that I’m more capable than any of the adults who just went before me! I could be your mage!” He would be the mage. 

   The orb sat cradled in Error’s hand for only the briefest moment, before it was inside the little net he’d made. He swung it in circles. Again. Again. Again. 

   He had to be fast. He had to do this quick.

   Error spent one last moment, extending his reach through his strings, muttering words and igniting an intangible spark. 

   For a brief moment, he watched as the King seemed to ease forward. A hand now raised, seemingly calling off his knights, who had been almost in motion. 

   He released the orb directly upwards, momentum carrying it up. 

   Up.

   Up.

   Into the blue sky. Practically into the sun. 

   Error watched it rise above him. 

   Only. 

   “Shit.” 

   His calculations must’ve been off. He must’ve added a layer too many, or maybe he released it a swing too soon. But he could tell that it wouldn’t clear the top of the arena. 

   Maybe if he had a few more seconds he could’ve used strings to boost it. He could’ve sent a magic gust to lift it further. 

   Not the case.

   He watched as the orb detonated, just like it was supposed to. 

   The wave moved horizontally through the air, and swept across the air above the arena so quickly that it sucked the sand from the top layer and threw it against the tall walls. Error’s footing slipped, and he stumbled to his knees on the stage as the wind whipped and tugged the heavy curtains into the air current as well. 

   It was an almost invisible force, Error had to imagine anyone without a solid grasp of magic would entirely miss it as it spread out. 

  He winced as it finally reached the edges of the arena, where he had just barely managed to fall short of clearing. 

   As the magic passed over the stone and mortar, he saw as it fell. Not in chunks, but crumbled like dust into fine particles. The upper half of every arch at the top of the grand amphitheatre, turned pitch black, then wasted away. 

   He hadn’t meant for it to come in contact with anything. It wasn’t supposed to do anything but harmlessly wave over everyone’s heads. As a show of his strength. That was all.

   Error could only think back to when this had happened before. When he’d accidentally exploded Geno’s favorite mug while metering the strength of his strings. When he’d broken the wheel of a carriage passing through the woods with a wayward slingshot blast. When he’d broken all ten of the large windows in the lecture hall of the academy when he failed to complete a spell the way it was written. When he’d done it too well.

   As he rose to his feet, he half expected the nagging voice of his older brother to be there, chastising him for not being more careful, before taking him home and making him dinner. 

   It wasn’t that, though. 

   He watched out across the sand. The king had his head tilted only slightly, looking up at Error’s lofty mistake. At the clean cut where stone now met unbothered air. His knight, the one in all black, was leaned ever so slightly towards him. They must’ve been speaking. Or, at least, the knight was. 

   About Error, he had no doubt. 

   He stayed in place, watching, swaying a bit with the residual force of his own spell lingering in his fingertips. Every instinct which told him to run and to hide were smothered and stamped out by the ligering fact that he had nowhere to go. Without his brothers, there was no one to help him. He knew it. 

   Even in front of this crowd. These mages. This King and his knights. He couldn’t bring himself to move offstage. Some part of him, deep down, childishly wanted the King to announce that he was impressed. To parade him offstage and let him experience what Geno had. Let him know why Geno left. 

   The King’s single eyelight swam back over to look at Error in the silence. 

   Error felt like the world had stopped. 

   It hadn’t.

   There was a clattering of armor and rustling of fabric, suddenly loud in his ears, and he had no time to react as everything came rushing in all at once. 

   Hands. Heavy, gloved hands. Two sets, two hands each wrapped one of his upper arms, and immediately lifted him off the ground. Into the air. 

   Pain flooded into his bones from his soul, like twin lightning strikes, trying to singe the bone and the magic in its core. The pressure wasn’t much, his mind knew that, but his body usually didn’t listen to him. He tried desperately to hold it in. The rampant part of his magic that had been hurting him since he could remember. That made it hard to touch anyone. To shake hands. To hug his brothers. 

   “Let go!” He pleaded, though he wasn’t sure if his voice made any sense. Fresh always told him they couldn’t tell what he was saying when his voice got too bad.

   More pain. He kicked his legs at the open air, and tried to muster control over his strings, just for a moment, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t focus. 

   And all at once it stopped. 

   Error’s feet were on the ground again, though that promptly became his knees again as he swayed and wavered in the sudden aftermath of his active magic dying down. Receding back into his soul. Because it didn’t need to ‘protect’ him anymore.

   He spotted then, as his vision returned to something aside from the gloves or the sky, that the King was no longer in his throne. In fact, there was a heavy, encompassing, magical weight behind him now. Somewhere very, very close-by.

   He took a deep breath, grounding himself. 

   “We are taking a recess.” Announced a booming voice. Very nearby. It was deep, and felt almost the same as the projection spell from two days prior. Then, more quietly, “You will leave the boy to me. Go ensure no one was injured, then manage the crowd. I’ll make my choice tomorrow at sunrise.” 

   The second bit felt quieter, an edge to the tone that Error didn’t quite like. Considering he must be the boy in question. 

   It was a moment, a few muddled ‘Yes, my king’ s, before Error found a pair of boots stepping before him. His head swam as he looked upwards. 

   The King, he figured that had to be him, was dark. Very dark. Like a living, dripping, shadow. Magic seemed to be all he was made of, an aura radiating from him. Dripping off his back into long slimy worms, twitching as they sat near the ground. He wore a fancy cape, too. One with huge gold clasps on his shoulders, one was shaped like the moon. 

   Error looked to his face last. In hindsight, something that could’ve been very, very bad. He was met with a dripping face. Skeletal. The place where his right socket should’ve sat was covered in that dark substance. The other hollow, with that bright cyan orb staring right back at him. 

   “Can you stand?” His voice came easily, and Error braced himself. 

   Could he?

   He had to, he didn’t want to be touched again. 

   Error took another breath, and managed to rise silently to his feet. 

   “Good,” the King said once he was standing, “Follow me.”

   It was an order he didn’t dare refuse. 

.

.

.

   Error found himself in an odd position. 

   He’d been given time to sit and recover from his magic’s outlash, and now he was sat in a room beneath the bleachers of the arena alongside the King and that knight he’d met before. The other one was guarding the door, he thought. 

   It’d been silent for a while, and it was almost expected when the silence was finally broken. 

   “You said your name is Error, correct?” The King asked, and Error gave a nod of yes. He forced himself to meet the King’s gaze.

   “Dust says that you’re only 12, and our people disqualified you in the first round. Is that right?” 

   Error nodded again. 

   “And Dust even explained to you why you were disqualified?” 

   Another nod. It seemed he’d at least made an impression on the knight. Dust. 

   The King tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, eyelight holding Error’s tightly. 

   “Then, I’ll ask, what brought you to think this was a good choice? To try and become Royal Mage above any cost it might bring?” The king asked, and Error was surprised to find it was a shockingly gentle tone. “Your home, your family, your life. You are so young, why put it all on the line like this?” 

   Oh. 

   It was almost funny. Was this whole thing because the king was some sort of charitycase? So disillusioned by his perfect life that he couldn’t even think of the hardships any random kid could go through? He almost grinned at that, barely keeping his mouth from twitching in a mix of frustration and humor.

   “I wanted to prove myself,” He muttered, “And besides, becoming the Royal Mage would be great.” 

   He waited, waited for the King to inhale, to say something, before, 

   “I’m an orphan.” He spat, finally. “Family abandoned me, house is left behind, expelled from school. I don’t want to keep wandering.” 

   It was basically the truth. This was his big break. His one last chance before he became a hated little vagabond. Maybe even a criminal. Maybe he’d have to go on the run for the rest of his life, live as a nomad. Join a caravan. Those people got stopped a lot though, kingdoms didn’t like them. He’d probably explode some city’s bakery by mistake and get put in jail for-

   “Wait!” Error suddenly exclaimed, breaking free of his thoughts, “Am I in trouble? Am I going to jail??” He asked then. 

   His worries slammed to a grinding halt and he stared wide-eyed at the two before him. Geno had always told him not to go making his big stuff near town, because if the guard caught him he wouldn’t be able to bail him out. He’d end up in jail. Of course, it’d never happened back then because he was always fast enough. Always smart enough to get out of dodge when he broke something or made poor decisions. Here? Here he hadn’t run when he had the chance. 

   The King stared at him, his one eyelight nearly mirroring Error’s in surprise at the question. 

   “I mean,” he started, “You’re young. If I wont let you work for me, I wouldn’t dare put you in prison either.” The King stated, “Though, you did do quite a bit of damage to the theatre.” 

   Error watched him break eye contact finally and look over his shoulder to the Knight stood there. He’d been silently watching Error too. 

   When he had no insight, The king seemed to heave a sigh, and the shadowy extra limbs which draped around him twitched. 

   “You’re sure you have no family? No home?” the King asked him again, and Error nodded.

   The king muttered something under his breath, and shot the Knight another look. The knight shrugged. 

   “I… Will not employ you. Though, I do see talent in you, Error.” the King said carefully, a bit slower in his words than he had been up until now. Almost… unsure. “I will, however, extend to you the title so that you may conduct…” He waved a hand before himself, as though searching for a word, “ You may conduct independent research. If you accept, of course.”

   “You would be free to resend your acceptance at any moment, no strings attached, and may take any work you complete along with you, and any pay you receive would be given to you after your 16th birthday, if you stay that long.” He added, “I’ll have to rewrite the contract, but-”

   “I accept!” 

   Error couldn’t help himself. He was so excited he could puke. The last thing he’d expected was to pull this off. This shitshow of a scheme actually got him the job? He could scream. He could jump up and down for joy. He didn’t, he sat eagerly and tense in his seat instead, but he could’ve. 

   The King seemed to hesitate, for a few breaths, before relaxing. He stood, and offered a hand out slowly to Error. 

   Error stood too, grinning. He could manage this one. He could do it. 

   It was brief, but he grasped the King’s hand and shook it firmly.

   “Dust, will you help Error locate his belongings, and escort him to wherever he is staying tonight? I’ll send Cross to swap with you a bit later. We’ll reconvene in the morning just before sunrise.” 

[somegrumpynerd]

Before I forgetttttt

So color thinks Killer is brainwashed, BUT, what if one time when Killer's soul is normal and he can feel and think for himself again, what if they are chilling at Color's place and then Killer gets up and says something like "I have to go home, don't want to worry dad"

What would Color think ? Would he rethink everything because "wait, why did you call him dad ???" Or would he think that damn, this brain washing is even worse than he thought because apparently Nightmare makes them call him dad ?? Which is weird even for Nightmare that could be a manipulation method ??

Okay that's it byyyeee

OH I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THESE GUYS OKAY SO!!!!!

(I'm still new to Color so if I'm wicked super wrong let me know!)

I feel like no matter what Killer said about Nightmare, Color wouldn't believe it. If somebody's been held captive so long they no longer think they want to leave, of course they're going to say they like living there. No matter how much Color cares about him, I think he has to consider Killer an unreliable narrator as far as his own situation is concerned.

But! Color's main concern is giving Killer his autonomy back and helping him learn to make his own choices. This unfortunately means if Killer keeps choosing to go back to Nightmare, Color has to respect it.

I feel like the only way he would begin to slowly unwind and trust that Nightmare had good intentions would be to see it for himself repeatedly. It's going to take more than a few good turns to prove that he isn't just putting on an act when Color is watching and then turning the whip on them again when nobody's looking. That's going to be hard to set up though since neither of them want to be around the other very much lol

I do think a good start for it would be Nightmare giving Killer the choice though. Like, not that they don't get to choose things regularly, but Killer isn't really one to think much about what he wants or come forward with it so Nightmare kind of assumes he's content and doesn't really think to check in with him. So if he actually made a point of asking Killer what he wanted and he said he wanted to spend a day with Color, I think that would be a good start. Obviously Color's not gonna jump to trusting him after one day, but hearing that Nightmare is also giving Killer his own choices and actually respecting them might give him a bit more reason to trust him.

That said, the image of Color's face as he asks "he makes you call him dad??" is sending me lol

[ruggiezz]

— EMBARASSING THINGS THEY DID IN THE PAST : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] embarassing things they did when they were younger that now haunt them whenever they are trying to sleep

[characters] deuce, cater, trey (+chenya), leona, ruggie, jack, malleus

[extra] my last 3 posts are literally so unserious, so here's another one, for the funsies (ily guys)

★﹕DEUCE SPADE

When he was in elementary school, he would chat with his friends while waiting for his mom to come pick him up and take him home. That particular day, his mom was late, and 6-year-old Deuce freaked out. He was convinced that his mom didn't love him anymore, and that's why he wouldn't pick him up—that he was going to be homeless and would have to live on the streets in a cardboard box. He even started crying, which made his friends cry. They started saying goodbye to Deuce because how were they going to see him again if his mom wouldn't bring him to school?

Anyways, his mom came to pick him up 10 minutes later.

★﹕CATER DIAMOND

Back then when he actually tried to make friends whenever he moved schools, he had a huge crush on one of his classmates. One day, he overheard his crush talking about how they "would love to be with someone who loves nature as much as them". Cater wanted to impress his crush so badly that he made a Magicam post with him posing next to random trees and captioned it with "I love nature so much omg😍".

The photo is still out there on the internet because he forgot the password for the account, and the idea of someone from NRC finding the account terrifies him.

★﹕TREY CLOVER (+CHENYA)

Another one that takes place in elementary school. Trey and Chenya were walking around the city after classes when they spotted an electricity pylon. They thought it was the Eiffel Tower (the equivalent of it in Twisted Wonderland), and they got all excited about it, so they came back with Trey's parents so they could take a picture of them next to it.

Their parents bring up the topic from time to time just to laugh at their innocence back then.

★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

When he was a little kid, he had a nightmare where he was being chased. He was tossing around the bed, mumbling while sleeping. Falena was walking around the halls when he heard noises from Leona's room, and when he saw him clearly having a nightmare, he tried to wake him up. Leona got so startled that he screamed and kicked his older brother in the face.

Sometimes he remembers when he's about to fall asleep, and suddenly his sleepiness is gone from how much he cringed.

★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI

He needed money, so he decided to work as a party mascot. It went well the first couple of times; it paid well, until he had to work at this particular kids party. The parents told Ruggie to walk down the stairs, greet the kid, wish him a happy birthday, and then just stand there to greet the children whenever they talked to him. Keep in mind that he couldn't see well in the mascot suit. So when Ruggie tried to walk down the stairs, he tripped and fell. The suit's head fell off, and there was just silence for around ten seconds, then the kids started crying. They thought their favorite character had just died right in front of them.

The birthday boy was inconsolable. Needless to say, Ruggie didn't get paid, and his party mascot careed ended that day.

★﹕JACK HOWL

It happened when his parents weren't home. His younger siblings were playing around with paint, and they asked him if they could paint his face. Jack said yes because it was harmless and would wash off, right? Wrong, it was permanent paint.

He had an important exam the next day, so he just showed up to school with his face looking like a kid painting that parents would display on the fridge door. Jack had to go to school like that for three days.

★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA

Malleus has known Lilia for as long as he can remember; he basically raised him. One day, he had the genius idea to copy his hair. He waited for a moment when he was left unsupervised (in Lilia's defense, Malleus faked being asleep), grabbed some scissors, and cut his own bangs. It was awful; it looked like how you would think a little kid would cut their hair. He was so proud of himself until Lilia saw it. To little Malleus dismay, Lilia laughed his ass off, and whenever his laughter would stop, he would look at Malleus and start laughing again.

He got so upset he burned Lilia's bangs off.

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter eight ⭐︎ Say my name and everything just stops

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! jealousy, angst, low self-esteem (kinda?), mentions of the upside down. weed and alcohol consumption. I will not spoiler anything here, so read with caution

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You blindly began to follow your feelings, hanging onto a hope that died just as quickly as it came.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with this whole idea and we kept talking about this moment for weeks and now its finally here, I hope you guys are gonna enjoy it as much as we did hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

The spring wind blows through the open windows in your room, touching your skin and slightly lifting the ends of your new dress. The smell of vanilla and the floral scent of your perfume lingers in the air. You’re leaning closer to your mirror as you apply your favorite gloss to your lips. 

A tingling, exciting feeling bubbles in your stomach, your heart jumping every few seconds or so at the thought of seeing him today. 

Steve’s reactions were everything you were hoping for when you teased him at the diner and in his car, yesterday. His blushing cheeks and the wide, darkened eyes filled you with victory after you had placed a kiss upon his flushed skin. You are still not sure what had caused you the sudden rush of courage, but you’re glad that it hit you because the way he looked at you, the way he reacted, the way his breath hitched in his throat finally gave you the last push to do what you had always wanted to do. Today, you’re finally going to give in to your feelings. 

The nervous, insecure part of you is telling you that there is still a big chance that he might reject you, that you will ruin this thing between you both by making the final move. 

And usually that weak part of your mind would win, it would fill you with enough humiliating images to pull back, to make you rethink your decision, to keep you hiding in the shadows, the way you always did. 

But you’re no longer letting it win. 

You will do this, even if you might lose your dignity. 

Placing the lip gloss back on your vanity, you reach for your favorite necklace, and put it on. You touch up your hair one last time, fixing your bangs before you take a step back, eying the red and white sundress, the little bows on the straps, the dainty flowers on the material, the shortness of it that exposes enough of your skin to drive him crazy… you hope. 

‘Just make your move, babe. Do you really think King Steve would reject you?’

Your smile falls a little when Billy’s voice echoes in your mind. 

Every memory of your best friend brings a hurtful pang to your heart. 

He was the only one who knew about your feelings for Steve and surprisingly he kept encouraging you to ask him out, to make your move. 

Would he be proud of you now? 

Or would he still make fun of you for liking someone like Steve? 

You step away from the mirror and walk over to the window, closing it before you leave your room and make your way downstairs. Eddie isn’t picking you up for once, even though he called you three times already, asking if he should come pick you up and if you’re truly feeling good enough to drive yourself again – you are. The headaches are gone, the dizziness is gone too. All that is left are the nightmares and the sudden rushes of anxiety but you are okay, you feel okay. 

You walk over to the dresser in your hallway, reaching inside the key bowl to retrieve your car keys when something else catches your eye. The one single key, lying in there, you reach for it, furrowing your brows as you trace your finger along the metal, letting it fall in your palm. 

You still remember the day when Max had showed up at your house, asking for you to take Billy’s car before Neil would destroy it in a moment of rage. 

‘He’d want you to have it anyway.’ She said as she handed you the keys. 

You remember how you broke down crying the moment you got into the driver's seat. You missed your best friend and it felt so wrong to sit in the place that once belonged to him. 

You got the windshield fixed and anything else that needed to be repaired, before you parked it in your garage, planning to never open the gate again and just leave the car there until Max would ask for it back. And, you did leave it there, for a few weeks at least. 

Your car broke down on a hot Friday afternoon and the mechanic at the local shop told you that it would take a few weeks to get it fixed. You walked and used the bus for a few days, and then the rain and the storms crashed upon Hawkins, giving you no choice but to take the blue Camaro.

Max even joked about it, she told you that it was Billy who caused your car to break down and who somehow let it rain and storm over the town so you would finally take his beloved car out for a ride because it’s just too pretty to be hidden and locked away in a dark, cold garage.

You’d sometimes drive around at night, when the streets were empty and no one was around. 

When you visited your sister in Indianapolis, you took his car. 

But now it’s been a while, the last time you sat behind that steering wheel was right before the apocalypse almost hit the town. 

A sigh falls from your lips as you stare at the key. 

“Not today,” you murmur as you place it back where it laid before and reach for your keys. 

The drive to Eddie’s new place isn’t a long one, he only lives a few streets away from you now, it would only be a ten minute walk but you desperately waited for the moment when you could finally drive again, and you didn’t want to pass up on the opportunity today. 

You missed this, sitting behind the steering wheel, instead of the passenger seat, longing to be the one in control. You missed picking the music yourself – not that Eddie’s music taste is a bad one, you just need a mix of everything, not just rock and heavy metal, sometimes you just need a girly pop song – not that you would ever admit it to him. 

When you arrive at your destination and you pull up to Eddie’s driveway, you notice that Steve’s car isn’t there yet. Only Jonathan’s car is parked next to Eddie’s Impala. 

Steve is never late, yesterday being the first time that he was the last one to arrive, so he is either still waiting for Robin or… running late is his new thing. 

“There she is!” Eddie chuckles as opens the front door at the same time as you get out of your car, “and she’s here in one piece!” 

A laugh tumbles from your lips as you close the door and lock your car before you make your way over to him, eying the new shirt he’s wearing – which is just another band tee that you have never heard of before. His curly hair up in a bun and a can of beer in his hand.

“I’m a good driver, what are you talking about, Eds?”

He furrows his brows, lips curling into an amused smile, “are you?” 

You walk up the steps to his porch, greeting him with an eye roll, “you know what, next time I’ll pick you up.”

He smirks, using his index finger to point at your car. 

“What, with your baby Mustang over there?” 

You squint your eyes at him, “nope, I’ll take the hidden gem in my garage.” 

“Wait what… What hidden gem?” 

“You’ll find out,” you wink at him, trying to brush past him when he stops you, placing his hand on your arm, he pulls you back softly. 

“Wait.”

You raise your brows at him, “yes?” 

He’s got the twinkle in his eyes, the one he always has when he’s happy about something. His lip twitches, pale cheeks slowly changing color, he’s barely able to contain his excitement as he bounces on his feet.

“Guess who scored a date?” 

Your eyes widen, lips parting as you remember the pretty waitress from the diner. 

Eddie is blushing, lips now curling into a full smile. 

“Oh my god, really?” You ask as a grin appears on your face. 

“Yeah! I’m gonna take her out tomorrow night, I can’t fucking wait, sweets.” He says with a dreamy look in his eyes. “She was so sweet a-and fuck… she’s gorgeous, don’t know how she said yes to me.” 

You frown at him, reaching your hand out to pinch his cheek, “you’re a handsome, sweet boy, Edward, now shush. You’re gonna knock her off her feet. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” 

His eyes soften, he rubs the back of his neck before his fingers trace the scar on the side – you know that it’s now an insecurity of his, just like it is one of yours. Scars litter your skin from where a bat had left a gnarly wound on the back of your shoulder, from where Jason had hurt you, from where he had left reminders for you that he was the one who did this to you. 

But your scars aren’t nearly half as bad as all the ones on his skin. 

“I’ve never been on a date before,” he murmurs, eyes flashing with doubt. 

“So? It’s gonna be even more special then,” you shrug.

“I just don’t wanna mess it up.” 

“You won’t,” you smile at him, “you’ve got that special charm, one that makes others like you right away, you’re funny and you’re sweet, now stop doubting yourself or I’ll kick your ass and hunt down every asshole who ever made you feel otherwise.” 

He chuckles at your words, though his eyes are still soft as he looks at you. He doesn’t doubt you, he knows that you would actually hunt down every name on the list of people who hurt him. 

“Got it?” 

“Got it.”

“Good,” you say, sternly.

“Good,” he nods. 

You stare at each other for a moment before you both burst into giggles. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and he pulls you inside his house, narrowing his eyes as he takes in your dress.

“Who’d you dress up for, sweets?” He asks, “there’s no hot guys here.” 

“Well, aren’t you humble?” 

“No hot guys besides me, of course,” he corrects himself after clearing his throat, smirking at you. 

You only shake your head in response. 

You pass by the kitchen and the big shelf that was specifically customized for Wayne’s mug collection. Vinyls are on the walls in the long hallway that leads to the living room where you hear the chatter of your friends and the faint music that sounds through the house. 

The smell of weed already lingering in the air. 

The sound of Nancy’s giggle, followed by a voice you hadn’t heard in a while makes you furrow your brows.

“Argyle is back?” 

Your surprised voice along with the wide eyes you look at him with make him chuckle. He knew you weren’t paying attention when he told you about it days back. You were too distracted by whatever daydream you were stuck in as he let both you and Steve know that Argyle was coming back to spend the summer in Hawkins before going off to college in September – something that Eddie definitely won’t be doing, he won’t be going to college, he won’t be going anywhere, at least not now, not yet, maybe not ever, even though it’s all he ever wanted. 

He walked the stupid stage, he snatched his diploma and he finally flipped Higgins the bird, despite the glares, despite the whispers of the people who still blamed him for what had happened weeks back but it doesn’t matter, he tells himself. It doesn’t matter what they say or think because he got people who believed him, people who care about him, people who were willing to fight for him, people who are worth staying for. 

“Yeah, he’s here the whole summer.” 

“Ooh, means we’re gonna get high a lot, cool,” you giggle. 

“Like we don’t do that all that time,” Eddie rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at his lips as he pushes towards the living room, your feet carrying you closer and closer to your friends. 

Despite Steve not being here yet, you already feel the rush of excitement mixed with the nervousness of what you plan on doing, flushing through your veins. 

Your eyes first fall on Jonathan and Nancy who are standing by the door that leads out into Eddie’s backyard, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, a smile tugging at her lips when she sees you. 

“Hi!” She waves at you, a friendly look on her face. 

“Hey,” you smile at her before you look over at her boyfriend, greeting him as well. You then turn your head to your right, your smile widening when your eyes meet Argyle’s already very dazed ones.

He stands up from his seat on the couch, his hair falling in front of his face a little, he opens his arms, revealing his Bob Marley shirt to you. 

“Well look at what the cat dragged in,” he jokes as he steps towards you, “come here, chica.” 

You chuckle, leaving Eddie’s side to greet Argyle, who instantly pulls you into a tight hug. The smell of weed enveloping you, right away.

“I didn’t know you’d be back so soon!” 

“So soon?” He slurs, patting your head when you pull back again, chuckling when you swat his hand away. “You didn’t miss me?” He jokes as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, just the way Eddie did before, he pulls something out of his pocket, handing it to you, “here, got you a little gift from California.” 

Your eyes lighten up in amusement, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at the blunt he’s holding, you take it, holding it up as you look up at him with a grin, “why thanks.” 

“You gotta share that one with me,” Jonathan grins at you, lazily. 

“You’ve had enough already,” Nancy rolls her eyes, though not without a smile on her lips. She pats his chest, “come on, let’s go outside.” 

“Yeah, you guys go ahead, I’m gonna grab some more drinks,” Eddie says before he leaves the living room. 

You all step out into the backyard, walking over to the little fire pit where the flames are already glowing, surrounded by the comfortable seats. The sound of water flowing from the stream filling the air with a fresh scent, the smell of flowers and the trees giving you a sense of peace. 

Eddie’s backyard is comforting and nice, despite being close to the forest, it’s making you feel safe. He wouldn’t have this now if he hadn’t been dragged into a world of darkness – unlike you, he didn’t grow up in wealth, he didn’t have a fancy house, a fancy backyard with a pool. No. Eddie grew up in a lonesome house, one that certainly wasn’t as luxurious as yours or the one he lives in now. The house he grew up in was haunted by painful memories of his mother that he lost at a way too young age and his father who came and went as he pleased, it was the only thing that he had, the only thing he called his own, but that was taken from him too and he had no choice but to move in with his Uncle Wayne, who had done everything to give him a home – and now, Eddie gave him that back, he gave Wayne a home, a nice house with a nice roof over his head, a garden that he always wanted to have. Eddie had tried to keep the upside down a secret, he didn’t want to talk about what was out there, he didn’t want to worry him, he didn’t want to tell him where all the money actually came from but Wayne isn’t stupid and Eddie isn’t exactly the best at keeping secrets from the people he loves and cares about. 

You wonder what you would have told your parents if they were still here – would you have told them the truth about what actually happened at the Creel house? Or would you have kept it all a secret? You are certainly much better at keeping secrets hidden. Eddie couldn’t even look Wayne in the eyes when he told him that the bite marks on his skin came from a rabid dog and not from interdimensional bats. 

Something cold touches your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise. You tilt your head up, meeting the eyes of your best friend again, “where’s your head at, sweets?” He chuckles, holding the can of diet pepsi out to you. 

With furrowed brows, you look down at the drink and reach for it, “thanks,” you murmur, “and uh, nowhere. I’m just fascinated by your backyard.” 

His dimples show when a laugh escapes him, he takes a seat beside you, snatching away the blunt from your lap, he places it between his lips and uses his red lighter to light it up. He lets out a content sigh as he leans back, puffing out the smoke into the sky before he takes a look around, “it’s nice isn’t it?” 

You nod, pulling the tab on your pepsi, it opens with a pop. 

“It’s better than mine.” 

He turns his head to look at you, a bewildered look on his face, “you’re crazy, sweets. You got a pool.”

“You got one too!” You chuckle, pointing to the pool that has yet to be used, it’s warm out, not hot yet. 

“Yeah, well yours is fucking huge, and you got a hot tub too!” 

“You got a hot tub, chica?” Argyle gasps from your right, “oh, you’re rich rich.” 

“Correction, my parents were rich.” 

“Correction, we’re all rich now,” Jonathan adds, pointing at you with a dazed smile. 

“Rich isn’t exactly the term I would use,” Nancy mumbles as she takes a sip of her soda. 

“Then what term would you use, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, shaking his head at her, “enlighten us.” 

Nancy clears her throat, placing her elbow on the wooden armrest, “we’re taken care of.” 

Jonathan snorts, putting his hand on her thigh as he gives her an amused smile, while she already rolls her eyes at whatever is about to leave his mouth – there’s no annoyance behind her eyes though, no tension in her body from where he touched her, unlike with Steve, who she always looked tense and irritated with. Back then you didn’t understand why, there were so many questions in your mind when you watched them and when she left him – how could anyone be irritated with Steve? How could anyone be tense with someone that provides so much love and warmth to the people he so deeply cares about? How could she leave him? How could she break his heart? Who could ever hurt Steve Harrington? 

“Just admit it, we’re rich.” 

A groan echoes through the backyard, one that doesn’t belong to Eddie, Nancy or anyone else sitting in the circle. You all turn your heads towards the house, finding a very annoyed Robin making her way over to you, a six pack of beers in her hand, sunglasses perched on her nose even though the sun is starting to go down already. 

Eddie isn’t surprised at her barging into his home, she does it all the time, to him, to you, to Steve, he doesn’t mind it though. 

You straighten your back, holding your drink tighter as you look away from her, waiting for Steve to walk through the door. 

The feelings inside of you start to rise again, your heart picking up the pace as your skin starts burning from the excitement.

Robin plops down in the seat next to Eddie, placing the beers on the ground as she slumps back, sighing loudly. 

Everyone’s watching her, expecting a rant already but you’re still fixated on the door, waiting for him. 

“Buckley, why so angry?” 

She pulls her sunglasses up into her hair, turning to face him, “I’m glad you asked,” she murmurs as she reaches for one of the beers, “Dingus ditched me, so I had to walk all the way here!” She throws her arms up dramatically. 

You furrow your brows at her words, the burning on your skin beginning to die down just as fast as it came. 

Argyle and Jonathan chuckle at her. 

“You live 3 blocks away from here…” Nancy mumbles. 

“Not the point, Nance,” she argues, glaring at her friend. 

“Wait, so Steve isn’t coming?” Jonathan slurs. 

Your eyes are wide and hopeful, your hand clutching the can tighter as you dig your feet into the grass beneath you, a weird feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. 

“Wetting his dick with Heidi seems more fucking important today,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes as she raises the beer to her lips. 

Your heart drops. 

The burning in your skin disappears completely as the fire is replaced by ice, the coldness of it freezing your whole body, stopping your heart and taking the false hope away as it kills every feeling that had taken home inside of you just seconds ago. 

Your eyes are stuck on her like you’re waiting, waiting for her to laugh and say it was a joke, that he will be here soon, that he isn’t out with some other girl after what happened between you and him yesterday. 

“Whoa, what?” Eddie mumbles, holding his hands up, “so… he’s on a date with the girl he didn’t want to keep seeing?” 

“Yep.”

Every ounce of excitement is now replaced by the sickness in your stomach, the lump in your throat that makes you struggle to breathe. 

What were you thinking? 

That the game you played wasn't just a game to him? That it was something more than that? That he wanted you just the way you always wanted him? That he could ever feel something for you? 

You don’t know whether you want to laugh at yourself or cry. 

How saddening it is to long for someone who was forced to like you. 

While you were getting ready, making yourself look pretty for him, thinking that he might like you in this dress – he was getting ready to take out another girl, a girl that he chose to like. 

You slowly slump back in your seat when Eddie’s laughter pulls you back into reality. You blink, masking the shocked, pained look on your face with a relaxed one as you take a sip of your drink, hoping that it will get rid of the lump sitting in your throat – it doesn’t. Nothing does. 

Your friends move on to another topic, while you stay there, where you will stay for a while now. The pain of the rejection that has never even taken place, slowly sinking in and everything around you begins to suffocate you – the dress you are wearing, the necklace around your neck, even the presence of your friends. 

You don’t want to be here any longer, you need to be alone. 

But you can’t go, not now, not yet. 

It would be too soon, too obvious and they can’t know, no one can know about your feelings for Steve, about how much it hurts to feel that way for him. 

So you hide the pain as best as you can, you nod along to your friends' conversation, you speak and you laugh when you have to, even when everything inside of you wants you to cry both out of sadness and anger. 

You’re not even angry at him, you couldn’t be angry at him even if you tried to be. He doesn’t know about your feelings – if he did, he wouldn’t have filled you with false hope, you know he wouldn’t. 

He wouldn’t string you along, you know he’s not the type of person to do something like that, not even to you. But you really thought that you had something, that there was something between you, that’s why you let your walls crumble, that’s why you started acting upon your feelings, that’s why you were ready to do more than just the subtle touches and the flirtations. 

You wait, you wait for the right moment to leave, when everyone is distracted enough, you get up, after whispering an apology, a lie into Eddie’s ear, knowing that he doesn’t believe you, that he will probably call you later or even show up to check on you. But he lets you go. 

And as you leave your friends, making your way back into the house, their laughter echoes in your ears, their happy voices and the cheerfulness they’re all feeling, that you were supposed to feel too. 

You blink back the tears, not wanting them to fall just yet. 

You make your way back to your car, not wasting a second to start it and drive home, your vision blurred and your throat hurting from how much you want to cry. 

How foolish it was of you to think that you could ever stand a chance – there was never one to begin with. You will always be the one in the shadows, the one to secretly watch him, the one to secretly want him, the one with the jealousy and the heartache, the one wishing to be anyone but herself because maybe then, he would want you too. 

The smell of smoke from the campfire is now lingering on your clothes and in your hair, tears are now falling freely, ruining the makeup that you have spent hours on, the makeup that you can’t wait to wash off now. 

You don’t even want to think about him. 

You don’t want to ask yourself what he’s doing now. 

He touched you so softly, so subtly, and yet it did everything to set your insides on fire, to make you feel special, even if only for a short moment. 

Now he is touching someone else, in far more special ways. 

A frustrated sigh falls from your lips when you step inside your home, it’s cold and empty, something that you have felt like for a very long time until he started the fire inside of you, only to make it die again… and all without his knowledge. 

You walk up the stairs and past your room, going straight into the bathroom, feeling the need to wash away the day, as though it could ease the aching in your chest. You start the shower before you turn to the sink, not even bothering to look at your reflection in the mirror, it would only make you feel more pathetic. 

You can feel the hot tears rolling down your cheeks, the quivering in your bottom lip. 

You hate this, you hate the sadness that you shouldn’t be feeling in the first place. 

You got no reason to be sad, you should have put your feelings aside, knowing that nothing would ever come out of it. 

It was all so obvious, it was just teasing, nothing more, nothing less. Nothing ever happened, so why would it happen now? He just found another way of messing with you, so that you two wouldn’t go at each other's throats like before.

You just have to go back. No more teasing like this. No more letting yourself get sucked into delusions. He is just having fun while you crave something more with him and get hopeful. 

You aren’t having fun. You wanted more.

You have no choice but to go back to how you were before this… thing started. 

Once your makeup is off and your dress is now laying on the bathroom floor, you step inside the shower, letting the warmth envelope you, hoping for a sense of comfort from it. 

Standing there for a moment, you let the water rain upon your skin, matching the pace of your tears that you’re willing away. 

You will hunt Billy in the afterlife for making you believe that King Steve could ever want you. 

You use your scented shampoo, hoping that it will get rid of the smell of smoke in your hair. You love campfire’s but you can’t stand the stench it leaves on your clothes and your hair. 

Your hands run over your smooth skin as you wash your body, reminding you of the fact that you even shaved this morning – you couldn’t feel more stupid than you do right now. 

Despite the loudness of your own voice cursing at you inwardly and the water hitting the glass, you hear the sound of your doorbell going off – multiple times. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur in confusion. 

It keeps ringing again and again – once, twice and it stops after a third time before it turns into rapid knocking. 

You know it isn’t Eddie, he wouldn’t even have the patience to ring your doorbell and wait for you to open, he’d just barge right in. 

You’d choose to ignore it if the person outside wasn’t so goddamn persistent. 

You turn off the shower, squeezing the water from your hair before you get out, and wrap a towel around your body. The mirror is fogged, as the rest of the room is, you open the door and step out into the hallway, that now feels colder than before. 

The knocking continues, filling you with anger. 

Who shows up at night, knocking like a mad man? 

Maybe you shouldn’t make your way downstairs now, maybe you shouldn’t open the door to whoever it is on the other side. It could be anyone or anything but you doubt that Vecna came back from the dead to knock on doors now and hunt you of all people – he could have done that weeks back, you went through enough trauma, he could have easily chosen you but even he didn’t want you. 

You rip open the door, ready to curse and yell at whoever is terrorizing you at this hour but every word gets caught in your throat and even your breathing halts for a second as your glassy eyes meet the hazel ones that you have been missing all day. Frustration and anger swirling inside them, blazing fire raging behind his eyes. His cheeks are slightly flushed, his chest rising up and down heavily as he stands on your porch, looking better than ever. 

“Steve?” His name tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it as you stare at him in confusion. 

He eyes you up and down, taking in the sight of your exposed skin that is still dripping with water before he clenches his jaw, raising his hand to run his fingers through his hair, tugging at it. 

Steve Harrington is fucked. He is utterly fucked. You have cursed him in every way possible, he can’t get you out of his mind, he can’t get you out of his system and the thought that you were only playing with him drove him insane. His hunger for you made him desperate, desperate for release. 

So in his state of frustration and desperation, he called up Heidi, thinking that a date and sex with a girl he had been with before would help him move on and stop thinking about you but who was he fooling. He couldn’t even kiss her when she leaned in to greet him with her lips, he dodged her. He couldn’t even listen to the things she was telling him after they ordered their drinks. He couldn’t care less about her. All he could think about was you. All he wanted was you. He wanted your lips to kiss him, he wanted your hands to touch him, he wanted your body under his and the more he thought about it, the more he stopped caring about a possible humiliation after he’d finally make a move on you, he needed you, and he needed to try – if you’d reject him, then so be it, at least he would know and not live with the what if’s in his head. 

He canceled the date in the middle of it, not caring about how messed up that was. He drove her home and without a second thought, he drove here, he came to you. 

And now, you’re standing in front of him, in nothing but a towel, water rolling down your soft skin, big eyes filled with confusion, lips parted, lips that he wants to kiss until he grows breathless. 

The sight in front of him does little to make any of this easier for him. You look like you’ve just walked out of one the dreams he had about you. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” he murmurs under his breath, surprising you when he invites himself into your home, brushing past you with an intensity that almost knocks you off your feet. 

You blink, turning around abruptly, a bewildered look replacing your confused one. 

As you take in the sight of him, your sadness begins to dissolve as the anger you started to miss floods through your veins the longer you look at him. 

You slam the door shut when the wind causes goosebumps to rise on your skin, you hold the towel tighter against your body as you glare at him, “what the fuck?”

“I have to be the one to say that!” He argues.

“Excuse me?” You scoff, your face now burning with rage. Every second that passes now makes you forget about the tears you just shed over him, irritation sparking inside of you so wildly that you want nothing more than to kick him out of your house for behaving that way towards you for no reason. “Weren’t you on a date with… Heidi?” 

Steve clenches his jaw at the mocking voice, at the smirk now tugging on your lips. He chuckles, though not in amusement, he points a finger at you, “see, that’s what I’m fucking talking about!”

Your brows knit together at his outburst, the fire in his eyes growing stronger and bigger. 

“Harrington, if you came to yell nonesense at me, just fucking leave!” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, making your way back towards the stairs. 

But his scoff stops you. 

“Oh, so you keep running away huh!? Didn’t you already get over that!?” 

You turn around with nothing but anger boiling inside of you, “running away!? From what!?”

This should have been enough to make him turn around and leave, because clearly nothing changed, clearly this is still just a game to you – but he has hope, and he is desperate enough to throw every bit of his dignity away and risk something. 

“Oh, don’t play fucking dumb right now. Acting like that for two weeks and pretending to be stupid is not a good look on you, Blondie.” 

You take in a sharp breath, digging your fingers into your towel as you frown at him. 

What does he want from you? 

Why did he come here? 

Was the date so bad, was the sex so awful that he had to come here to torture you? 

Without another word, you turn around and you stomp up the stairs, not wanting to see him, not wanting to hear his voice anymore. 

Your heart starts pounding in your chest again, and you can’t help but wonder – did he figure you out? Did he figure out your feelings? Is that why he is here? To confront you about them? To reject you?

You feel more and more stupid about what you had wanted to do when you woke up this morning. 

Just when your feet carry you up to the second floor, and you rush across the hallway to walk into your room, his footsteps echo behind you, making you more irritated than before. You turn around to face him, but before you can even say anything, Steve is suddenly right in front of you, and his hands reach out to grab your waist, he pushes you against the wall behind you, gently, careful not to hurt you. 

The gasp that falls from your lips startles you. His hands that touch the only thing that covers your body leaving your skin on fire. Your heart rate picks up so rapidly that it nearly steals your breath away. You look up into his golden brown orbs, the ones that are nearly black as he steps even closer, invading your space completely, making you breathe in the scent of his cologne, the one that has butterflies swirling in your stomach. 

He catches you off guard completely. 

You feel so vulnerable, so exposed as you stand there, caged in by his arms, his breath on your skin, his eyes that are filled with so much hunger. 

The words die on your tongue, and yet, after you breathe in more of his scent, you open your mouth to speak. 

“Shut up, Blondie… Just shut up for a second,” he murmurs, interrupting whatever words you had prepared to lie to him with. 

His right hand leaves your waist, inching closer to your stomach as his fingers trace the hem of your towel, drool already forming in his mouth at the sight of you, he is ready to take you, ready to devour you and make you scream his name before he fucks you for only this time. 

He notices the way your chest is moving, the way your breathing stutters. 

“W-What are you doing, perv?” You stutter as you watch him play with the opening of your towel. 

He can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at your insult. 

“Perv? Are you going to continue to play fucking dumb?” 

“Dumb? You are the dumb one if you think that I’m going to be the one to break into your teasing.” 

Steve’s eyes flash with satisfaction. 

This is what he wanted – to hear you admit that you were playing that game with him after all and not because you were playing him and stringing him along just to turn him down to gain something from it, whatever it might be. No. You were doing just what he was hoping for, all along. 

You want him just as much as he wants you and that’s all he needs to know. 

You roll your eyes at him, turning your head as you try to push your way out of his grasp but before you can even step away from him, his hands stop you but not on your waist this time. His large hands cup your cheeks, making you freeze. You stare at him wide eyed when he brings you closer, and you can’t even react before his whole body is suddenly pressed against yours, your heartbeat lurches into your throat. 

As though his touch wasn’t shocking enough, his next move almost causes you to collapse, because now it isn’t only his body against yours, his hands on your cheeks or his breath on your skin, now it’s his lips… his lips on yours, his lips moving against yours in desperation as he takes every last of your breath and makes it his own. 

You can’t do anything, you can’t move, you can’t breathe, you can’t even blink as you stare at him – how his eyes are closed and his cheeks are flushed, the furrowed brows as he kisses you with a kind of passion no one has ever kissed you with before. 

Steve is kissing you. 

Steve Harrington is kissing you. 

His lips are moving roughly against yours, his hands holding your cheeks so softly, yet with an intensity. 

This is all you ever wanted, to feel his touch and his lips on yours but you are too stunned to move, too surprised to kiss him back right now, too distracted wondering if this is real or not.

Along with the shock, you feel the slightest bit of insecurity flooding through you because even though he is kissing you, you can’t help but wonder why. Why isn’t he with Heidi? Why isn’t he kissing her right now? Did she turn him down? Did he come here because he just needed someone? Because he knew that you would fall for this? Or is this just another way for him to tease you? 

Those questions prompt you to push him away, forcing him to break the kiss that he was so deeply lost in. 

You notice the way he begrudgingly pulls away, the way he seems so drawn to your lips, the way his brows furrow in confusion now, his face is flushed and his pupils dilated as he looks at you with nothing but desperation in his eyes – he isn’t teasing, he wants you, he wants you right now and isn’t that all that matters? That he wants you?

His eyes stare into yours as he is breathing heavily. A flash of rejection takes over his features and by the look in his eyes, you can tell that he is beginning to get lost in his anxious thoughts – thoughts that you quickly shut down by making the move that he just made. You cup his cheeks and you pull him down, closing your eyes as you slam your lips against his for the very first time. 

Unlike you, he wastes no second to reciprocate the kiss, a sigh of content leaving him as he presses you back against the wall. 

Warmth blooms in your stomach, one that doesn’t stay the same temperature for long because the moment he deepens the kiss, the moment his hands hold you tighter and his knee parts your legs, sliding his thigh in between yours as the kiss gets rougher and rougher, you feel the warmth evolving into a deeper, burning sensation – a fire inside of you that only he can mend. 

You can’t believe that this is happening, that something that you had been craving for years is now here. 

And Steve, he feels his heart pounding in his chest from the rush, from the adrenaline, from his desperation that grows bigger and stronger when he feels just how much you want him as your lips move roughly with his. 

You're hesitant with your touch, but when he grabs your face and pulls you even tighter against his body, his thigh pressing stronger against your core, you can’t help but throw your arms around his neck, digging your fingers into the hair that you’ve always wanted to touch. 

You can feel him smirking against your lips when you moan into the kiss, which prompts you to tug at his hair and press your tongue against his bottom lip.

He welcomes it into his mouth so eagerly, his tongue now clashing against yours as his palms slide down to your waist while your hands reach for the front of his shirt, fisting the material tightly as you begin to drag him into your room. 

You both know, you both feel where this is going, what this is leading to – what the past few weeks have been leading to. 

You want this, you need this, you need him, even if just for tonight. 

And you know, you already know that you will be done for, that he will ruin you for anyone else but you couldn’t care less, right now. Especially when he kisses you with so much roughness, everything about this setting all your insides on fire, leaving your skin burning and yet aching for more. 

Steve is careful not to step on your bare feet as you lead him backwards into a different room. Excitement bubbles in his stomach and he grows even more breathless than before, he pulls away and breaks the kiss but doesn’t hesitate to latch his lips onto your neck, kissing and biting your flesh, “I fucking hate you, Blondie. I hate that I want you so much.” 

Your lashes flutter as you close your eyes, tilting your head to the side as you feel your stomach and your heart fluttering at his touch, at his lips on your skin but especially at his words. 

Your knees grow weak and a needy whimper falls from your puffy lips. 

All that echoes in your mind now is I want you. I want you. I want you. 

You don’t even care about the other things he said to you, you only care about the three little words you have only ever dreamt of before. 

You almost fall when you feel the back of your legs hitting your bed, but he keeps you upright, not pushing you down just yet. He keeps nibbling on your neck, kissing, biting, sucking as he breathes heavily against you, growing harder against your stomach. 

“Couldn’t even finish the fucking date, couldn’t do anything cause I kept thinking about you, Blondie,” he speaks into your neck, fingers now dangerously close to your bare skin behind the towel. 

Your heart nearly explodes at his words and you can’t help but sigh in relief, knowing that nothing happened between him and Heidi. And all because of you. 

“You drive me fucking crazy, I want to rip the towel right off–”

“Then do!” You whine, not caring about how eager and desperate you sound, “show me how much you hate me, Stevie.” 

He pulls away from your neck after placing another wet kiss to your skin, strands of your hair getting caught in his as he faces you again, with flushed cheeks and almost black eyes he looks at you and takes in the sight of you, the pout on your lips, the flustered look on your face, big eyes that you are begging him with. 

He doesn’t even bother to look around the room, just caring about the bed behind you. 

He rips the towel off your body, letting it fall to the ground, his hands find your bare waist that he grips tightly as he throws you on the bed, smirking at the gasp that leaves your lips again. 

Without hesitating to, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and rips it off. 

Just like back then on the boat, when he took his shirt off before he jumped into the water, you stare at his chest, almost drooling at the delicious sight in front of you. His broad shoulders, the scar around his neck that makes him look even hotter, the hairs on his chest, the muscles in his arms that have visibly gotten bigger since high school. You bite your lip as your eyes move down, almost whining when you see the bulge in his tight jeans. 

You wish you could run your finger down his chest and his stomach, tracing every little scar that the bats have left behind, but instead, you push yourself up, blushing at the fact that you are completely bare in front of him. You reach for his belt, fingers beginning to fumble with the metal when he stops you with a simple touch and a headshake. 

“None of that,” he murmurs as he leans over, his hands digging between your ass and the mattress as he suddenly pulls you to the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees before you, he throws your legs over his shoulder and looks up at you with hooded eyes, “I need to hear you first.” 

You nearly combust when you feel his breath on your pussy and his lips on your inner thighs. A whimper falling from your mouth as you try to close your legs out of instinct, blushing even harder than before. 

“You’re fucking soaked,” he smirks, holding your thighs open as he teasingly slips a finger through your folds, “all for me, huh?” 

You don’t answer but you don’t need to, the loud moan that you let out when he dives right into you with his tongue, gives him everything he needs to know. 

He moans in content as he grabs your ass roughly, eyes rolling back when he tastes you for the first time, he almost starts drooling over you, finding pleasure in this. 

He teasingly licks a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, circling the tip of his tongue around your already aching nub as he uses his fingers to part your lips. 

You scrunch up your face as his tongue pleases you in ways your fingers never could, sighs and whimpers start escaping you as he now presses his thumb against your clit and he starts eating you out, his moans vibrating against you. 

Your mouth falls open as your back arches in pleasure, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as you fall apart completely. 

No words are spoken as you both just enjoy this moment of bliss, him getting lost in you, you getting lost in the pleasure he blesses you with. 

You focus on everything and also on nothing – his whimpers send shivers through you, his tongue that he fucks you with making you gasp and drool, and despite the heaviness in your eyes, you manage to open them, wanting, needing to see him. 

He eats you out slowly, yet desperately, fingers and tongue now working together to unravel you. His eyes are closed and he keeps moaning and whimpering as saliva runs down his chin. He looks so content, so pleased from only this. 

Steve curls his fingers inside of you as he keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles on it. 

Tears of pleasure prickle in your eyes as needy sounds keep escaping you. You hold the sheets even tighter now, closing your legs around his head, caging him in between them. 

Steve finally opens his eyes, they darken even more now when he sees how you are falling apart for him, it only prompts him to fuck you even harder with his tongue and his two fingers. 

Your moans and whimpers are enough to drive him crazy, enough to make the erection in his pants feel painful but he wants more, he needs to hear his name falling from your lips and he gets what he wants only seconds later when your body grows tense and your back arches again as a tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Steve!” You nearly scream as you come undone, writhing beneath his touch. 

You tilt your head to the side, bringing your hand up to your face, you bite your teeth into your knuckles as hot tears run down your flushed cheeks. 

Steve laps at your pussy, moans still falling from his mouth. Only as you whimper weakly does he pull away from you, but not without giving your clit another teasing lick, causing you to spasm which only makes him chuckle darkly. 

He carefully removes your legs from his shoulders and lets go of you before he rises back to his full height. 

You instantly press your legs together, breathing heavily as you try to calm down from the orgasm he just gave you. 

What Steve didn’t do before was take in the sight of your bare body, and now as he does it, he has to swallow harshly, his dick twitching in his jeans, begging for release. He finds himself aching for you, even more than before, he not only wants you, he needs you in ways he can’t even describe. 

He watches the way your chest glistens with sweat, your nipples hard from the pleasure that curses through your body, your eyes are shut, your brows pulled together. He licks his lips before he bites down as his eyes trace every inch of your skin, the scars that make you look even more attractive. 

It takes everything in him not to drop to his knees and taste you once again. 

He needs you, he needs to feel you wrapped around his dick, he needs to hear your moans as he fills you to the brim, he needs to fuck you. 

Steve unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking against each other, causing you to open your eyes at the sound. 

You look at him through your glassy eyes, pushing yourself up on your elbows as you watch him unbutton his pants but before he pushes them down, he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket and you watch him curiously. 

He opens it to take out the condom he had prepared for a different… less exciting occasion. He hastily pushes his pants and boxers down, his dick slaps against his stomach and he fails to notice the way your eyes widen or the way your lips part in surprise at the sight, at the size of him. He steps out of his shoes, cursing under his breath as he pushes them aside before he uses both hands to part your legs, getting on the mattress.

Before he rips the foil apart, he looks into your eyes, wanting your consent first but no words have to leave his mouth because you are the first to make the move, you sit up slightly, taking the tiny foil pack from his fingers, surprising him by bringing it up to your lips and ripping it open with your teeth. 

Despite the streaks of tears on your skin, the fucked out look in your eyes, the shakiness in your body, you look at him so dangerously. 

And he can’t do anything but watch you in awe for a moment, how you wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, pressing your thumb against his slit to tease him. 

“O-Oh fuck…” He shudders, eyes nearly closing at only that. 

You bite your bottom lip, trying not to drool as you roll the condom over his length. You look up at him again to find him staring at you with flushed cheeks and lust in his eyes. It’s dark in the room, but you can see each other just well enough, the moon shines brightly into your room tonight. 

You can’t even help yourself when you cup his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss, closing your eyes when your lips meet again. 

He grabs your waist, making you crawl back until you’re far enough on the mattress for your head to hit the pillows when he pushes you down. He presses his hands on your knees and you part your legs eagerly for him. 

His fingers trace your skin as he brings his hand up, passing your hip bone and your waist and grabbing your boob with roughness as he slips his tongue into your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself. He pinches your nipple with his fingers, smirking against you when you whine and writhe underneath him. 

You reach your hand down, not wanting to waste any more seconds, you wrap your hand around his dick again, jerking him off a few times before you line him up with your entrance, whining desperately again. 

Steve breaks the kiss and opens his eyes to look at you, “you’re so desperate for my cock, huh?” He breathes, still playing with your nipple. 

You raise yourself up a little, pecking his lips again as you nod your head. 

He can’t believe that you are this needy for him, that you are giving him those eyes. 

If only he knew how many times you have dreamt of this moment. 

“Please,” you whimper. 

“Please what, Blondie?” He teases you as his hand now slides down your stomach, fingertips brushing your clit, making you shiver. 

You blink and you breathe heavily as you place your hand on his shoulder, “please fuck me, Steve… Please…”

A satisfied smirk appears on his face, your desperation making him feel smug – but the smugness quickly dissolves into something else when he pushes inside you and feels your tightness around him for the very first time. 

You breathe in harshly and hold it, shutting your eyes when you feel him stretching you out. Nothing could have prepared you for this moment, not his tongue, not his fingers, nothing. The stretch is both painful and delicious, it makes you gasp but it also makes you drool as he inches deeper and deeper. 

Steve can only curse and whimper in pleasure as he watches his cock disappearing inside of you, he doesn’t push in fully though, too scared to hurt you. 

He bites his bottom lip, bottoming out again before he pushes back in, listening to the wet sound and the neediness in your voice as you moan. 

“M-More,” you whine, your eyes now watching him, “please…”

His dick twitches at the sound of that and at the look on your face. 

“Fuck me, Steve.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, he pushes in deeper than before, until he’s buried inside of you completely. Usually, he would take a moment to catch his breathe, to adjust to the tightness but he is too eager, too desperate for this. So he grabs your hips and he starts thrusting, slowly at first, not wanting to hurt you. 

You gasp, hands finding the sheets beneath you again as your eyes follow the movement of his hips, watching the way his dick slides in and out of you. You throw your head back and look at his face next.

Strands of his hair fall in front of his eyes, his lips are puffy from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed. He is moaning, for you, because of you. You are in utter bliss, feeling pride swell in your chest when he moans even louder as you clench around him. 

He watches the way he fucks you, eyes growing darker and darker and then, he looks at your chest, the way your tits bounce from the movements, something that prompts him to move his hips even faster, fucking into you harder now. 

“F-Fuck,” you whine loudly. 

His eyes meet your face and the pleasure on it is suddenly not enough for him, he wants to throw you over the edge, he needs to hear you scream for him. 

He curses under his breath when you clench around him again. 

Steve’s knees dig into the mattress, his fingers now holding you even stronger than before, he is sure to leave bruises but you don’t mind, you would never mind. He fastens his pace, railing into you and thrusting in and out of you, making you fall apart in the matter of a few seconds. You can’t speak, even if you tried. All that you can do is moan pathetically, letting him use you. 

“You take me so well, holy shit, Blondie,” he whimpers, voicing out his thoughts, brows scrunching together as he watches you, your lips parted, moans that he only ever dreamt of leaving you. “L-Look at you, fuck. If I knew that my cock would shut you up, I would’ve done this a long time ago.” 

“S-Steve!” You whine with a high pitched voice, something that only leads him to pound you even harder even if a tiny part of him wants to mock you. 

Your eyes roll back, the tension in your stomach rolling back in, only stronger and hotter this time, and you already don’t know what to do with yourself, but when he suddenly reaches for your legs, hooking the back of your knees around his forearms, your eyes widen when they meet his again and a wicked smirk appears on his face as he starts fucking you from a different angle, snapping his hips into yours so wildly that you can’t help but cry out as your eyelids become droopy, tears now begging to be released, just like the drool that starts coming from the corner of your mouth. 

The room now filled with nothing but the dirty sounds of your skin slapping together, the squelching noises from your pussy and his pleasing moans. 

Steve watches you in awe, eyes growing wide when he sees just how cockdrunk you are for him. 

He fucks you recklessly, eagerly and as though it is the last thing he will ever do. 

Your tears fall freely, your whimpers turning into cries the moment his thumb finds your clit again. 

He feels your walls clenching around him, gripping his twitching cock tightly – and he knows you’re close, he knows that he is close but he doesn’t want to stop, he doesn’t want this moment to be over. 

Steve savors every second, pounding into you roughly and harshly, grabbing your face with his left hand when your head falls to the side, he needs to watch you, he needs to see you when you cum around him. 

“You wanna cum for me?” He asks breathlessly. 

You nod eagerly, without letting a word fall from your lips, you only nod and whine. 

You feel the overstimulation rushing through you, the fire in your stomach that is about to burst into something bigger. You can feel him everywhere, he is so deep inside of you that it makes your body shake like crazy, but it feels good, so good that it almost wants to make you cry for different reasons when you think about how this could be a one time thing. 

His hand leaves your face, he throws his palm into the pillow next to you, holding it tightly as his own eyes fall shut now, moaning your name as he picks up the pace of his fingers against your clit, his hips snapping faster into yours now. 

“I-I’m–”

“I know, I know…” He coos, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck. 

You feel the urge to feel him even closer, so despite the weakness in your body, you use every bit of your strength to lift your hand and press it against his warm back. 

“Cum for me,” he whimpers into your neck before he bites into your flesh, marking you up for anyone to see. 

A loud gasp tears out of you as his last thrusts grow rougher and his fingers move faster, you can’t help but dig your nails into his back, scratching him as stars blur your vision and the shockwaves grip your body so tightly as you cum around his cock, just as he spills into the condom, moaning into your neck. 

You can’t even feel your tears nor the drool still coming out of your mouth, all that you can feel is him. Your arm now falls back onto the mattress and your eyes shutting as the darkness starts to envelope you. 

“F-Fuck,” he whispers as he stops moving, pressing another kiss to your neck before he pulls out of you, hissing at the feeling. 

He can feel your trembling body beneath his, the sighs that keep falling from your lips, he smugly pulls away to take a look at you, only to see your eyes dropping as you start to lose your consciousness. 

“Shit,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks, “you okay, Blondie?” 

You nod as best as you can, slapping his hand away as you snuggle into the pillows, not even bothering with the blanket. 

He scratches the back of his neck, pressing his lips together as he watches you fall asleep so quickly. He can’t help but feel smug as he looks at the way your thighs are trembling still. 

He stands up, leaving the room to walk into the bathroom, where the light is still turned on. He steps inside, noticing how the mirror is a little fogged, the smell of vanilla and strawberries lingering in the air, making his stomach flutter ever so slightly. 

Discarded clothes lay on the ground, he picks them up and puts them on the counter before he rolls off the condom, tying it up before he throws it into the trash. He turns towards the sink and washes his hands before he walks back into your room, a smile tugging on his lips. 

He plops down beside you, pulling the cover over you and himself, scooting closer to you. 

He doesn’t know where this will go or what is going to happen tomorrow but as he looks at your stained face, and every single previous second replays in his head, he is sure of one thing. 

There is not a single fucking chance that this is going to be a one time thing. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

[mrsmnsn]

My valentine

Summary: You and your best friend found a way to get away from all the valentine’s day by doing your own program. But, being alone for a long time only meant you two were horny and needy for affection.

wc: 3.3k (i got a little excited writing it, sorry)

warnings: friends to lovers; smut!!! +18 please (you’re responsible for yourself babe, but i warned you); fluff; masturbation (m!reciving); inexperienced!femreader. Tell if something is missing.

authors note: I know i’m a little late with valentines thing but i couldn’t help myself. I really liked the result and i hope you do too. It’s a new thing writing smutty things but i hope it’s not terrible. <3

*update*- i just posted a part two!

**********

It was valentine’s day and you felt like you were the loneliest person in the world. Everyone was with their partners when you were all by yourself. Of course you were being dramatic but you were tired of having to pretend that it was okay to be single because you don’t needed a boy to make you happy. But you wanted to.

The same thing happened to your best friend. Eddie was all by himself. He was never the guy the girls would die for. They were too scared to see how pretty he was. But he also had been feeling kind of alone. He would walk in the market and see all the decorations he hated so much. Not only in school, everywhere, people would be all over each other. He always hated valentine’s day but he never knew that was because of his jealousy and would always blame in the capitalism and its ways to persuade people.

As you both would be alone, to distract you from thinking about couples making out, you created your own thing. You would go at each other’s house to watch movies together, eat junk food and talk about stuff. For two years you’ve been doing this and this year was your time being a host. At this time, you got lucky your parents weren’t home for the week. In the first year, you brought Eddie home and your mom kept asking non stop questions about him and how did you finally realized you were made for each other.

“You’re late.” You opened the door for him, taking the boxes off his hands.

“I’m sorry my lady, is my butler work not good enough for you?” He said in a english accent mocking you. “There was a lot of people ordering pizzas too. They copied our idea.”

“Fine. I just took the cookies out of the oven.” You pointed to the baking sheet “What movies did you pick?”

“Well, let’s see.There is the movie you asked for with the cats”

“Did you take the right one? Or just some movie about a cat?”

“Is the Disney one, right? The Aristocats? I got this one, nightmare on elm street and fast times at ridgemont high.” Eddie only took this last one because Steve said ’there’s some very interesting scenes about a girl, if you know what i mean’. Of course Eddie knew the girl’s titties would show up, he’d never watched it because he thought it would be a shitty movie. “If i want to see boobs i’ll just watch porn or i’ll buy a magazine” he would say. But he really thought about it and that would be the only way to make you watch something like that with him.

Once he asked if girls watched porn and you just ignored the question. He wanted to see your reaction and he knew you would never watch something like that, let alone with a guy. It would be the closest thing to porn you’d watch.

Also it was a secret to no one that he had a little massive crush on you. Maybe it was a secret only for you. Eddie don’t even know when did it started. One day you were just a girl who he was friends with but suddenly you were much more then that. You were hot, interesting, cute, smart and he couldn’t help but be enamored with you. But he never did anything to change that, to afraid of making you run away from him. To him, in that situation, your relationship as friends was more important. He wouldn’t stand to lose you. So he buried his feelings deep down and pretended it that never happened.

“Eddie it’s not Halloween. We’re not watching that, you know i can’t sleep afterwards.”

“Alright, no horror movies” He discarded the movie

“So is gonna be aristocats and this other movie. Is this even good? I never saw it.” Of course you saw it. Since Dustin told you guys his girlfriend was a hotter version of Phoebe Cates you had to. You scolded him after.

“It was on the recommendation board so we’ll have to trust in that”

********

Eddie had never seen the Disney movie before. It was for kids but you always loved it since you were a little kid. And if you loved, he’d watch it for you (he would not admit but he loved it too). There you were in the second movie. You had seen it two years ago so you were focused on the movie. But with that, you forgot about the boobs

“Oh…” Your cheeks got red. Seeing that by yourself was ok. But right by Eddie’s side, you got embarrassed and tried not to look at the tv in front of you. In the meantime, he was looking at you to see your reaction.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen” He said trying to sound like he was surprised

“Don’t worry, i see this every day.”

Eddie didn’t payed attention in the movie anymore. Were you talking about porn?

When the movie ended you went to bed and Eddie came with you. Being friends for a long time made you so accustomed to be around each other that now you would insist that he would sleep with you in your bed and not on the couch.

He would not sleep if he kept the question to himself. He had to ask.

“Good night Eds. Thanks for today. It was really nice!”

“Sure sweetheart, i had a good time too!”

And the place got quiet. It was now or never.

“Hey… can i ask you something?”

You just hummed

“Well… Earlier, when we were watching the movie you said that you would see it everyday when we saw the girl’s titties. With that do you… you know, d’ya mean you see boobs everyday in like, porn?”

“What? Why would you say that?” You said looking at his face even though the room was dark

“I don’t know why it just came in my head like, come on!”

“Eddie… i’m a girl. I see them everyday because i have them. Just like every woman. Go sleep, will ya.”

Eddie don’t know if that make it better or worse. Not that he didn’t know you had boobs. Of course you had. But now, you had boobs, you’d watch them and everything came to Eddie as a movie. Or as a dream in witch it really did. Right by your side, in your bed, in your house. Eddie had a wet dream about you. I wasn’t the first time. But it was in you house, close to you. Till then, he was sleeping and his mind was working on making him hard by the images of you touching your boobs while you were fucked by him.

You had woken up first, not realizing his morning wood, you went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen to take a glass of water and came back. But now he’d moved and, in his sweatpants, his “situation” was pretty obvious.

That scared the shit out of you. What would you do? Should you go back to sleep? Or try to pretend you never saw it. You weren’t a boy, but that seemed to be very uncomfortable. Suddenly you got hot. Seeing his dick poking out in his pants, his bare torso shown by his shirt that was lifted up. His wild hair that framed his face. Of course you knew you had feelings for Eddie, but you never did anything to let him know. It was a secret only for you and you only. You couldn’t do anything about your best friend. Even if he had a boner and got you all worked up.

He started to move around and to wake up when he saw you sitting on the bed and looking at the ceiling. Before saying anything he felt it. “Holy fuck!” that’s what he thought. He started to panic. Did you saw it. Would he be fast enough to run to the bathroom and try to work on it. “No, you shithead, you can’t jerk in her bathroom”

You realize his movements and looked at him. You knew that he knew you knew. Now the blanket were covering him.

“Mornin” He said casually and you nodded you head, trying not to lend your eyes on his cock to see if you could still see his bulge. “You saw it, right?”

“Saw what? I-I just woke up!” You said a little to fast “I mean, i barely opened my eyes and- yeah, i saw it.” you stopped when you saw his expressions getting amused. If you already saw it, there wasn’t a reason to be concerned anymore.

“Don’t worry, that happens sometimes” he said as if he didn’t have any dreams. It was just normal

“What? Out of nowhere?”

“Yeah, sort of…” He said remembering you in his dream and resisting the urge to touch his cock

“Can’t you like, turn it off or something”

He laughed at you face. You were getting more and more uncomfortable and in the same time, a bit horny. “It’s not like the tv we watched last night. You can’t turn it off.”

“But…” You saw his face. He was looking at you “I don’t get it”

“Well, i don’t know how to explain it” He tried to sound confident about it “It’s like when your nipples get hard when you women get cold. It not a thing you control” That part was true. He couldn’t control his dick or his mind so he wouldn’t find you attractive.

“But it seems to be painful” You said looking at him getting up.

“It is a little. I’ll go to the bathroom to try to ‘turn it off’” He said giggling

“Wait Eddie!” He turned to you and now you could see how big he was. Even with his pants, it was visible. “You don’t have to do it by yourself. Can i do something? Like, can i help you?”

Eddie froze in place. He would go take a cold shower and have thoughts about random things that wasn’t you. He was not going to masturbate in there. Was he still dreaming?

“Sorry! Oh i’m so so sorry. I don’t know what i was thinking about” You regret when you saw how his face got to serious.

“No no no. Don’t be sorry. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He sat again looking at you cover your face “I mean, we’re friends. Last time i checked, friends don’t usually give a handy to other friends.”

“I’m so fucking stupid and embarrassingly alone that i let this stupid date get in my mind. I don’t know…”

“Were you willing to do it? For real?” He was really curious to know if you would jerk him off. That had to mean something, right?

“I’m sorry, it’s fucking crazy!” Hugging your knees, you looked at him and forced your arms to open

“Come on, don’t be so harsh. Were you?”

You nodded to scared of his reactions to your horny attitudes

“I thought you were virgin and said you were inexperienced in everything”

“It can’t be that hard” You whispered and looked at his eyes. Those pleading eyes that were begging to go back in time but were just reassuring Eddie that the shower would not ‘turn it off’ anymore.

“What if i said i wanted you to do it, huh? Would that be to weird?”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. Now he was asking you to do it. Was it to weird? Maybe a little, but only because you never did it before and because it was your best friend.

“I don’t know Eddie… I think you just as crazy as me” He laughed at that

“I might be a little. But it’s a good thing” You were feeling more comfortable now. It was your Eddie again and not some guy you had a crush on. “I know what you’re thinking. But, don’t you think i never wondered how would it be to kiss you? You are the most amazing friend i could have and with that comes this feeling too. But i don’t want to lose you. You’re to important for me”

“You too. Honestly i’d be lost without you. But i also wonder how would it be, you know…”

You kept looking at him and he did the same. You were making sure that it was the right thing to do. The he closed the gap between you two. Bodies bonding and connecting to each other. Your lips were so soft. Eddie was sure he was in his dream now. His hands that before was holding your face, now went to your back, caressing your waist. And your hands ran from his shoulders to his hair, tugging some locks of it and making him groan.

Things heated up and he pulled you to his lap. His bulge was now touching your crotch. With his hands on your waist, he took advantage of that and encouraged you to move back and forth making you feel so good. The friction was perfect. His lips were perfect. The way he was kissing you like he waited his whole life for it. Separating to breathe, you leaned on him, your foreheads touching, but your movements continued slightly.

“For a very inexperienced girl, you’re a hell of a kisser. Damn, are you sure you’re telling the truth?” He said panting with his eyes closed and his lips curled to a smile. You smiled back

“Yeah, i assure you. Don’t make me feel like i’m too good though. I’m gonna get too cocky.”

“Tell that to him” He pressed you down on him and, once again, you felt his hard dick. ‘How can it be so hard?’ you thought

“Can i take of your pants?” you asked a little scared

“Sure thing, sweetheart” He was smiley. He helped you to take it off and wow. You were a little shocked. It was big. You thought about it for a second and you honestly thought he was not average.

“Can i say something too?” He nodded while he pulled you back to him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now but i just wanted to tell you so you don’t have any expectations. I don’t even know if you have any-” You were talking super fast, Eddie had to shut you up with a kiss. “Sorry. I was saying that, i think i still need some time, you know, if you want to have actual sex.”

“It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here”

“But i really wanted to do this. To help you here.” You said running your hand from his chest to his lower belly and his cock twitched. You wasn’t expecting that to happen “Is this normal” He nodded and giggled

“Are you sure you want to do it? You know, i’m not proud to say it, but have jerked off before. Plenty of times actually. If you’re not comfortable doing it, it’s not a problem for me to do it by myself.” It was melting your heart in the way he was talking to you. Caring about you.

“Yes i am! I’m just… insecure about it. I don’t know how to-.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how, alright?” It was you time to nod you head. “A’right then. First thing, we need it to be wet, so you’ll have to spit on you hand.”

You hesitated but gathered a good amount of saliva on your mouth and spited on your hand.

“That’s right. Very good. Now you can wrap your hand around it” You just didn’t know where to. Was he talking about the tip or the base. You went for the tip.

Groaning low, he cleared his throat “Good girl. Now you can just make some circles around the tip and then go down.” You did what you were told to and that seemed to work. Your foreheads, that were glued to this time, separated a little before he came back. Both of you looking at your hand moving around his red tip leaking pre cum.

“Is that normal?”

“It means it’s fucking good” Even his voice changed. It was getting rougher and lower.

“Can you guide me a little. I’m scared i’ll squeeze you too hard” you said and his hand wrapped around yours.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s better when is tight. I’ll let you know if it’s to much” He let you do it by yourself when you got the right rhythm and grip.

Your hand were moving tightly up and down. You didn’t know if it was there before, you didn’t notice because you were to focus, but his hands were squeezing your tights hard. You could feel your panties getting soaked. How come you were excited by jerking him off.

More of the liquid you saw before came out and you ran your thumb over it. He let out a moan that rambled inside you body.

“Can you, please, go a little faster than that” And that’s what you did. The moan you heard was the first of many others that came along. You had gathered, again, more saliva and thought that it would be nice to be even wetter than it was. So you separated a little from him, looking at his confused eyes trying to read you. You separated enough to bend down and to spit on it again, looking at his eyes roll back, throwing his head back. You came back to your position, proud that you did something good without him telling you.

Your movements got faster than before and he, restless panting, kissed you. You wanted to make him cum hard. So you separated the kiss, kept up the speed, flashing him your boobs. That was the final push for Eddie.

The way he grabbed you and moan at your ear was insanely hot. You watched ropes of cum come of his dick. Your hand were now with white and sticky cum.

“Holy fucking shit!” He panted for the last time and let go of his grip on you. “Are you really sure you’re inexperienced?”

“I might’ve heard some advice about it from some friends” You said getting out of his lap, but he stopped you

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve been up here for a while, i don’t want to hurt your legs. Besides, my hand is a little dirty.” He laughed a little

“Let’s clean up and come back here then.”

That’s what you did. When you came back, he pulled you to his chest and you started to talk.

“You know, i got hard because i had a wet dream about you. Probably because of the movie. But you were in a bikini like hers and, well… you know the rest.”

“Really? What a perv.” You laughed together. You couldn’t be more happy to let this felling out of your chest. You didn’t know for how long you could keep that from him.

“What i mean is that, i really hope you don’t think that i’m doing this just because i was hard and you were there to help. I like you, not in a friend way and, if you let me, i would like to make you my girlfriend one day, if you want. For real. Take you out to dates, stay together doing whatever the shit we’ll want, give you things that i know you will love. This kinda shit.”

“If you want to, i would love to be your girlfriend. And all of the things you mentioned. Well… you know, you already do all of that. The sex is new though.”

He laughed and kissed you passionately

“Great. Now, you’ll get see how much fun we’re gonna have” You spent the rest of your valentine’s day like this. Laughing and kissing each other.

[dellalyra]

ʀᴏꜱʏ ᴘɪɴᴋ - ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ

pixie says: another request from my wife @soraya-daydreams coming thru with an absolute banger. family formations or can be standalone <3

“Y/N!” Came a scream from down the hall.

You were almost asleep, bed so comfortable and sheets so soft until your door flung open and three bodies stood in the entrance before barging in.

“Shoko stop bullying Satoru.” You reflexively reply.

“Y/N! Thank god you’re here! A voice of reason! These two,” Satoru says, pointing to Geto and Shoko beside him “are trying to get me to dye my hair!”

You just look between the three of them. Geto is on your desk chair, fiddling with your pencils. Shoko is perched on the desk beside him and Satoru has flung himself face down on the foot of your bed.

“Okay, and… you don’t want to?” You ask.

“Why? Do you think I should?” Satoru asks, and you wonder why Geto and Shoko snicker.

“It’s your hair, Satoru! If you wanted to you could do a temporary dye in like - a really fun colour. Like the pink in the ends of my hair!” You wave your strands at him.

“See! I told you she would like the idea! C’mon Gojo, let us dye your hair.” Shoko pleads.

“You won’t even need’ta bleach it or anything, man.” Geto chimes in.

“But guys! My white hair is like - my thing!” Gojo is flailing his arms.

“I thought your eyes were your thing?” Geto questions.

“I have many things!” The muffled voice replies.

“Y/N, what do you think?” Geto prompts.

“Why am I the deciding factor?”

“Because Satoru would jump into a burning building if you asked him to.” Shoko adds, blunt as ever.

You blush and hear a weak attempt at a protest from the end of your bed.

You’ve no idea where your friends got this idea that Satoru is interested in you the way your are him but they seemingly won’t let it go.

“I think it would be fun - but Satoru chooses the colour. Is that okay, Satoru?” You poke him.

“Okay.” He says, lifting his head from your comforter.

“Cool! Shoes on then. Let’s go.” You say, swinging your legs out of bed.

“Where on earth can we get hair dye at 10pm?”

So that’s how you ended up at a 24 hour store checkout at 10.30pm with your three best friends. After much deliberation, a temporary box dye was found that would last about 6 washes and wouldn’t stain. Satoru was being uncharacteristically sheepish about the colour he chose, keeping the box close to his chest, until he dropped it and you picked it up to see the top of the box was a soft, rosy pink.

Your favourite colour.

You handed it to him, blushing as he looks straight at you.

“It’s gonna look really nice on you, ‘toru.” You say, smiling softly.

The two behind you gag at the sweet exchange.

At 11pm, Satoru was sitting on your desk chair - towel on his shoulders as you and Geto worked the pink through his white hair - Shoko (the instigator) sitting on your bed.

“Okay! Koko, set a timer for 10 minutes.” You say, pulling the gloves off your hands.

“What happens in 10 minutes?” Satoru asks.

“We wash your hair!”

“Wait?! You need to shower with me?! At least buy a guy a drink first, Princess.” He smirks at you and you roll your eyes.

“No, you incorrigible man. Just your hair. Plus, you don’t drink.”

Finding a way to wash his hair was a logistical nightmare since everyone insisted on being in the room but Satoru’s long limbs were difficult to contain - but eventually, the shower head was rinsing pink streams down the drain and his head was free of dye. You wrapped a towel over his head and told him to go style it how he normally would.

He proceeds to shake his head and say “I just let it dry?”.

Which sickens you.

He’s just that perfect, that beautiful - naturally?

What an asshole.

He turns to take the towel off and looks at you three and you melt inside.

His blue eyes shine in excitement as your face turns the colour of his now rosy pink hair.

Seeing him decked out in your favourite colour? Did all kinds of things to you - though it would never compare to his natural, snowflake coloured hair that visits your dreams each night. That will always be your favourite, because it’s a sign of your ‘Toru.

“Look at this marshmallow man!” Shoko says, jumping to try and ruffle his hair.

“Marshmallow?!” Satoru says, spinning to the mirror.

“Bro - that actually looks really good. I like it. Turned out real nice. What do you think, lil’ lady?” Suguru says, turning to you.

“I love it.” You say, hands clasped under your chin.

You didn’t just mean the hair.

[canthelpit0]

Enemies (With Benefits) PT4

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Wordcount: 4K +

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: Smut, language, mentions of insomnia, mentioned nightmares/dreams, slight facial dysmorphia (if u squint), mentions of crying, slightly toxic, party, use of y/n, nickname (cherry), pet names (ma, sweetheart, etc), fight (not graphic), switching, unprotected, creampie (she’s on the pill)

(A/N: hope you guys like this! got the idea from this request. Tysm again <33)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

Everything with Chris is so unnecessarily complicated.

Why does he act like a little bitch sometimes. Coming to my house, begging me and than being all sassy and annoying.

I let out a harsh scoff when I accidentally smudged my mascara a little bit. Rolling my eyes I pick up a make up remover and a cotton pad to clean up my mistake.

I’ve gone back to ignoring Chris, for my own sake. And he’s stopped attempting to talk to me fully.

I’ve been sticking to Ethan a lot recently. Just staying by his side and all.

We were both invited to this party. But we were both gonna Uber there separately.

I was thinking of getting wasted tonight. I haven’t done that in a while. The last party I’d been to was the party Evelyn forced me to go to.

Evelyn and I haven’t talked much, due to me distancing myself. But she hadn’t tried to reach out either. I’m sure though, that she’ll be at the party.

Having finished my make up now, I look at myself in the mirror. I color corrected my red eyes from crying, well. That as Well as my dark eye bags from sleeping bad.

I was never the type of person to cry a lot. But recently… i was crying because of Chris. But I hate him. Yet he was making me cry, wishing that he was here to comfort me

I hum a tune that’s been stuck in my head.

I just wanna rub my eyes harshly, and just start crying again. I’ve been dreaming of Chris. All in different scenarios.

Sometimes we fucked, cuddled, or even argued. Other times he was with charlotte; or someone else. And other times I was with someone else and saw him in the corner of my eyes.

I’ve been sleeping bad at night, so occasionally I’d have naps after school. Wich didn’t really help much since I’d dream again.

I sigh staring back at myself. And it feels like the more I stare into the mirror, the more my face morphs and changes. That doesn’t look like me.

I purse my lips. My hands slam on my vanity as I aggressively get up.

I let out a harsh sigh moving away from the vanity.

I get a notification from my phone, notifying me that my Uber is here. I snap out of my trance. Honestly I’m so glad that that caught me off guard because I actually might’ve broken that mirror if it hadn’t.

I grab my tiny handbag and shove my phone into it. Then I just walk outside.

Once I’m in the Uber again I drift away in thought.

Chris had done nothing but mess with me, since I’ve known him. Since forever.

Now I’m in my tiny dress, my ass probably showing slightly when I walk, and I’m gonna get laid from someone other than Chris.

Maybe I can obsess over someone else.

And maybe I can finally remember that Chris is not the only human with a dick. And not the only one who can use it.

Before I knew it we were already there. I could hear the slight music from outside blaring into the car.

I tip the dive and finally get out the car.

I heard the car speed say behind me. While the house party in front of me had loud obnoxious music playing.

I swing open the door. I sigh at the tight crowd of people and just decide to card through them.

I’m getting Deja vu from this really. But last time I’d been here I’d seen Chris almost fuck charlotte, and than proceed to fuck me.

Chris..

Chris?

I raise an eyebrow staring back at a person across the room. He was dancing a solo cup already in his hand.

Okay so I was extremely late, so what.

I need to stop going to parties ‘fashionably’ late. By the time I arrive everyone is already wasted.

I purse my lips pushing through the drunk teenagers to get to the kitchen. From where I was standing I could still see Chris.

I need to stop thinking about him.

But how could I do that when he is just a few feet away, probably drunk and dancing with charlotte.

I turn to the counter grabbing some random liquor and pouring it into a, presumably, clean solo cup.

I down half of it in seconds. I need to feel the rush. I need to get drunk.

Honestly I could go looking for Ethan, but than I’d probably hang out with him in the backyard and smoke all light. Or I could find myself some good dick.

★ ★ ★

After a good few drinks I was dancing with some dude. I don’t know his name, and I don’t care to.

This would be a simple hook up.

Before I know it he starts to guide me outside mumbling something to me about how we can fuck at his house.

And honestly I don’t know why I let him drag me out of the party.

I don’t really want to hook up with him, I want Chris. But I won’t stop him either. I don’t care to.

Suddenly we stop walking. And within seconds I feel his hands off of me, and a loud cry echo through the night air.

I turn around to see what’s happening.

It was Chris. He’d punched my possible hook up guy. My mouth falls open. I want to say something. To tell Chris to fuck off and leave. But I want Chris.

I don’t pay attention for one second and suddenly the guy is on top of Chris beating him up.

I can see from their faces that Chris had gotten a few punches in too though. The guy was taller and bigger than Chris. And I remember something about him being an American football player or something.

Chris manages to flip them around beating up the guy. They wrestle on the ground while I just stand there stupidly and watch.

My drunk brain was processing this way too slow.

Suddenly I see Ethan come into my field of view trying to separate the two on the ground, without getting involved.

I feel another presence next to me. And it’s charlotte. The girl looks as shocked as me. but she also looks more sober.

I snap out of my trance, my slow brain having finally caught up.

I put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder to tell him to back off. And once he does I pull them apart. And they let me.

I yell at both of them about how stupid they are to make a scene like this. Both of them look down in shame.

I turn fully standing in front of the random dude. I slap him across the face and tell him to fuck off.

After that everything is a blur really. Once I somehow got Chris to my house, and up the stairs without waking my siblings, we stand in my bathroom.

Chris is sitting on the closed toilet seat. I sprint downstairs really quick to get him some ice, because, half his face was definitely going to be blue by tomorrow.

Once I’m back I put some alcohol on a cotton pad gently dapping it in his skin as he occasionally takes in harsh breaths.

“Why would you hit him?”

I sigh. That’s the first question I’ve asked since we’ve gotten here.

He holds the ice on his cheek, while I tend to a wound on his forehead. He wasn’t cut up too badly though. It was just a fist fight after all.

“Because he was going to take advantage of you” he scoffs as if the answer to that was obvious.

I purse my lips. Honestly I was subjecting myself to it. I was literally begging for anything, I would’ve been fine with that.

“You had no right to intervene.” I purse my lips. I take the alcohol from the sink and put it back in its place in the cabinet.

I help him up. Chris wasn’t walking bad, I just wanted to touch him.

We walk to my bedroom where he sits down on the bed, and I once again stand between his legs.

I take the ice out of his hands to look at his cheek to see how bad the damage is.

And after a moment I feel his arms wrap around my waist. He berries his non-bruised cheek into my stomach.

“You don’t get it cherry” he sighs, relaxing more as he touches me. “He was looking at you in a weird way.”

“Like what?” I ask. My hand goes to his head. I card my fingers through his messy brown hair.

“Like an object.” He mumbles so lowly, I barely even understand it.

“Oh and you don’t?”

The question is asked flatly. I just look down at him blankly not thinking anything of it.

“No.” He pulls away to look up at me. He looks at me like he is insisting he’s telling the truth.

“I may be rude, but I never look at you like you’re an object.” He scoffs at the accusation. He rolls his eyes hard.

“You don’t?” I ask flatly, not bothering to even act surprised. As much as in hate Chris, he doesn’t treat me bad. Necessarily. He’s just a dick.

He grumbles disagreements turning his face fully into my stomach as he keeps holding me closer.

He starts to complain about his head hurting, and how he fought someone for me and whatever.

I pull him off of me slightly. I was still holding the ice in my hand. It was a bunch of ice cubes I had put together onto some towel.

I slowly sink to my knees between Chris’ legs. I look up at him through my lashes.

“Want me to take your mind off of things baby?”

I ask in a mildly mocking way. But I was dead serious.

Chris lets out a shaky breath. He tugs his shirt off, quickly throwing it off to the side. “Please” he sighs out.

I tug at his belt trying to undo it slowly, to tease him more.

“God I’ve missed you so much.”

His breaths are shaky. His eyes close for a moment. He was getting so worked up and bothered already.

“Have you?” I ask teasingly. He purses his lips slightly staring down at me. He undoes the button on his jeans and finally slides them down.

I help him take them off fully. Then I toss them away.

I look up at him watching him, as he sat only in his boxers in front of me.

“Fuck, you gonna be all submissive like last time?” I mock still looking up at him.

“Cherry, don’t tease please.” He sighs looking down at me.

I stand up quickly and turn to face away from him. Since the dress was a halter dress. I pull my hair to my from teasingly.

“Be a sweetheart and undo this for me real quick.” I don’t wait for long. His hands find my upper back undoing the string of the halter.

I turn back around again letting the top fall, revealing my lacy bra underneath.

I wiggle the dress around a little bit to slide it down. I slip out of it and then kick it away. I was standing in front of him in my matching lacy bra and thong sent.

His eyes trail my body. He looks hungry and needy. Looking submissive as ever.

I lean down to help him take his boxers off. And once he does I sit back down between his legs.

I look up at his dick. And it’s the only one I’ve seen in a while. It’s the only one that I’ve ever found pretty.

Never thought that was possible. But here we are.

The tip was the same red as he has on his cheeks. He was painfully hard and it had pre cum leaking.

I cup it in my hand starting to teasingly slowly jerk him off. “Y/n/n, cherry, please” he whines loudly, to wich I stop my movements.

“Chris” I hiss under my breath my expression harsh. I slap his thigh for a moment to catch his attention. I squeeze his cock lightly.

“My siblings are home. Shut the fuck up”

I hiss. Usually I wouldn’t mind, but my siblings are younger than me. 4 and 5 years. Me being 18, they’re 14 and 13. They don’t need to hear my childhood friend that they have also known for ages get fucked.

“Sorry, sorry” he huffs under his breath. I watch as Chris leans back in his arms looking down at me.

I take one of the ice cubes from the ice in the towel. I then proceed to put it right on his aching tip.

He flinches at the contact of the cold ice in his burning hot skin. I grin at the reaction, watching the way his dick twitches.

“You’re such a tease” he scoffs, to wich I just chuckle.

I drag the ice cube down his shaft before putting it back on the towel with the other few ice cubes. I knew it was gonna melt but honestly I couldn’t care less.

I start to jerk him off slowly again. I lean down to place a peck on the tip, and then proceed to suck him off slowly.

I swirl my tongue only keeping the tip in and staying teasingly slow.

I hear Chris let out a sharp huff, throwing his head back.

“Come on, ma” he says under his breath. His hand snakes into my hair, Slightly gripping at it. And then he harshly pushes me down, making me deep throat him for a second.

I choke on it for a second. Chris starts to move my head, yanking on my hair. I was deep throating him roughly.

I keep my hands on his thighs and pull off. “Don’t” I huff pushing away his hand from my hair, And then smoothing it down again.

I go back to licking a teasing stripe up his shaft, before I go back to deepthroating him, jerking off what I can’t fit in my mouth.

“Ma- I’m-“ he sighs. He was leaning back on his arms his head thrown back. He was trying so hard to keep his moans and groans minimal and as quiet as possible.

I pull off and chuckle. I kiss up his sensitive shaft while looking up at him. Then I get up and hover over him.

I connect our lips in a deep passionate kiss. And while I continue kissing him I lean over starting to straddle him.

Still while kissing him, I start to slowly sink down on his length making both of us moan.

When he bottomed out in me I pull away. My hands go to his shoulders as I just sit there for a moment.

My cunt was aching at the stretch. I had to get used to it again, since we hadn’t hooked up in a while.

I haven’t hooked up with anyone other than Chris in a while. And the last time I had it was not nearly as pleasurable as when I did it with Chris.

“So good for me, baby” I mumble under my breath leaning in more as I wrap my arms around his neck.

His hands trail over my thighs to my hips to hold me.

“Just for you ma.” He mumbles back. We’re so close I can feel his soft breath in my face. He just looks so kissable right now. With his lips plump and swollen like that.

“Oh yeah? Didn’t get pussy from someone else, hm?” I say again my tone low and harsh.

I start to gently grind into him. His hands on my hips don’t stop me or help me either.

“Fuck-“ Chris’ breaths are heavy as he tries to keep his voice low. “You’re the only girl I’ve been fucking.” He admits lowly, the blush on his cheeks only deepen.

“Oh, am I?” I mock as I start to slowly lift myself. I start to ride him, his hands on my hips only being there to steady my movements.

“God- you’re gorgeous” he breaths out staring up at me. His eyes stay locked on mine.

One of His hands starts to trail up my side. And once he reaches my bra, he pulls my body closer to him so he has better access to undo it.

Both his hands back down to my waist now actually helping me ride him harder.

I clench my teeth my moans coming out as sharp breaths as I try to keep quiet. I’m doing a better job than Chris is though.

I put a hand on his mouth to muffle his groans further.

“God- you’re doing so good for me baby.” I pant under my breath, still trying to keep as quiet as possible. My hips pick up pace even more. I continue moving, his tip pressing against my cervix repeatedly.

He mumbles back an agreement, my hand still keeping him quiet.

I continue to ride him at a harsh pace until I feel the knot in my stomach get tighter, ready to snap.

“Chris- I’m so close-“ I breathe out trying to keep myself from moaning.

Chris gently takes my hand from his face putting his own hand on my mouth to muffle my sounds.

“C’mon ma, come for me” he bites his lip. leaning back slightly, he watches as I do all the work. “Go on, get off on my cock”

My pace starts to become more messy and uncontrolled. Chris was also not helping, doing nothing except keeping his hands on my face.

With a muffled moan I slam myself down one last time. My head falls forward as I feel my orgasm wash over me. I feel warm and so relieved.

He takes his hand from my mouth, he then leads me to him by my neck and presses our lips together.

His hands both go back to My waist. just holding my body close to his.

I could still feel him rock hard in me. I knew we weren’t done, but I was appreciating the break.

Chris pulls me off gently and picks me up. He turns us around so he is on top of me.

Us fucking in missionary was always rare as hell. Because we’re there for the benefits. -And according to Chris, he hates my face so much he doesn’t want to see it.

well at least that’s what he used to tell me.

He slides his dick through my folds, before slowly pushing in.

I sigh feeling him fill me up again.

In our enemies with benefits situation we never did anything that felt intimate. The sex felt like sex, and not love. And that’s how it worked. It was good like that.

But like this, Chris, his blue eyes staring right into mine. The way he kept his hand at the curve of my waist, his other hand holding him up placed next to my head.

We were so close, I could practically feel him breathing on my face.

This felt so intimate, like something we, as people who hate each other, shouldn’t be doing

And that’s exactly what it was.

Well I guess we already made the first mistake when we first hooked up.

We were never meant to be. Not like that. Not like this.

So why did it feel so good though?

“You good ma?”

Have I been staring? Probably. But how can I help myself when he is so close to me, looking ever so handsome.

“I’m good. Please move” I whine trying to keep my voice low.

He sinks down, his face burying in the crook of my neck as he starts to move. All slow and sensual.

we barely ever did missionary, and when we did, his face was as far away from mine as possible. But right now it seemed like he was trying to be as close to me as possible.

He occasionally groans into my skin, sending tingles down my spine and right to my aching core. I try to keep my voice low, but still let a few soft moans slip.

“Y/n?” He says abruptly. He keeps up the slow sensual thrust, keeping himself buried deep. Yet he sits up slightly, his forearm next to my head holding him up.

“Mhm?” I say lowly not really trusting my voice.

Our eyes lock. Chris swallows. My eyes trail his features, trailing down to his chest, to his lips and back to his eyes again.

“Can I come in you?”

I raise my eyebrow at the question. Usually we used condoms. I mean I’m on the pill but according to Chris he ‘doesn’t want to take any risk’. But recently we had done it like that more than we had since the whole arrangement started.

“ ‘corse” I mumble back.

And before I know it Chris is picking up pace. He doesn’t move back, keeping himself hovering right above me our eyes connected.

My core was aching from all the over stimulation. So I shudder when he picks up pace.

He still keeps his strokes sensual and deep. I moan lightly, cautiously keeping my voice low.

He re-adjusts my legs, wrapping them around his torso for a deeper angle.

He picks up pace even more. I throw my head back at the overwhelming pleasure, my eyes closing, my mouth falling open in a silent moan.

Chris doesn’t even bother to make me look back at him. He just lets me enjoy this, and watches. Watches the way I look with my head thrown back in euphoria.

“Chris, Chris- chris-“ I keep my voice low but the more I chant his name the higher and squeakier my voice gets.

Chris takes that as a telltale sign that I’m close, but so was he.

He cups my mouth shutting me up. or atleast muffling my moans and whines.

He picks up pace even more. My eyes go back to meet his, my eyebrows scrunched in pleasure.

I tap his wrist to tell him I’m close. He licks his lips. Of course he knew I was close without me telling him.

His hand stays firmly on my mouth, keeping me quiet. “You’re doing so good, cherry”

His other hand goes to my clit in order to finish me off quicker. He rubs it harshly.

Suddenly I throw my head back again, clenching around him. I feel my release wash over me again.

He keeps pounding into me. But his thrusts get more sloppy and uncontrolled. Until his hips stutter. He gives me one last thrust before his spurts of cum shoot into me.

My legs are tense around his torso from the overwhelming pleasure.

I feel warm and so filled. It felt way more intimate than the countless times we’ve hooked up before.

And the fact that he stays there, collapses on top of me, his face in my neck, gently kissing, And not moving off, only made this feel even more intimate.

After a long while of just cuddling, and being in each other’s presence, Chris sits up. He gently and slowly pulls out, making me wince at the loss of contact.

He stares down at my cunt for what feels like a long time. Until his pointer and middle finger meet it again. Pushing the seed that was leaking out of me back in.

“Chris” I hiss my body shooting up. I was now half sitting my arm propping me up, my other hand going to circle his wrist to stop him from moving his hand.

“Awe poor baby does that hurt?” He huffs in a slight mocking tone. But for once it doesn’t seem menacing.

“Yes. don’t do that” I roll my eyes.

He chuckles at the sassy tone. “Well I gotta make sure you don’t waste it.” He sasses right back.

Chris already prepared for the worst outcome.

“I’m still on the pill.” I huff. I then slowly pull his fingers out of me, seeing the way they were covered in a whole lot of our mixed juices.

He chuckles popping his fingers into his mouth.

Matserlist

A/N: I loved writing this series. But it’ll probably only have one more chapter (so 5 in total). This was my first ever series, and it was so fun to write. Love y’all. My dms & req are open 🩷

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @t1llysblog

[wolfiesmoon]

A valid excuse

Floyd x gn!reader

I have been consumed by tweel brainrot there is no turning back

Anyways here's something i thought of in 5 mins lfmaooo

You were awakened from your peaceful slumber by loud and oddly agressive knocking at the door to Ramshackle dorm.

What in the world? Who is trying to visit at this hour?

You groan, gently pushing Grim off you and slowly making your way to the door to find out who your late night visitor is.

"Finally..." Floyd mumbles when the door reveals your slouched figure. He makes a mental note of how you look in your sleepwear.

"...Floyd?" You mumble sleepily, hoping you didn't say the wrong twin's name. It's kind of hard to tell which one it is in the dark.

"You sure took your sweet time answering the door, Shrimpy." He invited himself in, casually walking past you into the lounge . Yup, it's definitely Floyd.

"Why are you here?" You yawned.

He squeezed you really hard all of a sudden, which woke you up almost instantly. You felt your bones cracking, you swear. Way more effective than an alarm clock. Or Grim.

"I had a nightmare... Can I sleep in your bed?" He pouted at you almost comically.

"That's why you came banging on my door at 2 AM?" You raised a brow at him, slightly annoyed. And besides, Floyd wasn't even your boyfriend or anything. He's just that one guy who gets really excited when he sees you for some reason. Why is he coming to you with this overly childish request? Jade works just fine.

His pout increased and he squeezed you even harder. As a warning, no doubt.

Seems there's no way out of this...

"Okay, okay- Fine-" you sounded strained due to your innability to breathe. You kinda don't want to die because of Floyd's squeezing, though it would certainly be a unique way to go.

"Yay~" he let go of you, prancing over to your bedroom like an excited child.

You followed behind him, worried that he might throw Grim out the window to make space for himself. If there's one thing you know about Floyd, it's that he's unpredictable. Not that that's a bad thing, you just don't want to end up with catlike casualty tonight.

"Ehhhh, why is Sealie all cuddled up on your bed?" he sounded offended, like someone just took his well deserved space.

"...He always is." you smile to yourself, thinking of how Grim is actually kinda like a real cat when he's all curled up by your side. You always feel the urge to pet him when he's like that.

Floyd takes a step forward (to "remove" Grim, no doubt) but you quickly pick up Grim and place him down on the rocking chair to prevent a premature death. Grim so owes you for this later.

"Here, the bed's all yours." you point to it somewhat nervously, watching his expression soften. I mean, were you seriously just going to let him sleep with you? You're honestly so tired you don't even care anymore.

He flops down on the bed unceremoniously, waiting for you to join him. As soon as you do, he hugs you tightly. "My dream was soooo bad... It was just horrible..." he mumbled into you with an overly dramatic undertone.

You still have no idea if the nightmare was just an excuse or if he actually had one. Either way, he is squeezing you right now and seems quite satisfied. You let your eyes slip closed.

"Wanna tell me what it was about?" you whisper.

"Later... I feel like squishing you forever for now..." he swung one of his lanky legs over you, sighing happily.

"You know Azul will get mad at you if you squish me forever, right? Cuz you won't show up to work..." you surrender yourself into his embrace fully, noting how smooth his arms are.

"I don't really care, to be honest...."

You suddenly felt a kiss on your cheek and you jolted slightly. Did Floyd just kiss you?

No, no. That was definitely just your imagination. You're half asleep, after all.

it's late at night as i'm proofreading this and i just got a rook card when i wanted the vil one😭😭😭😭😭😭my unluckiness knows no bounds

[grudgecollector]

Afterglow | Nam-gyu / American!Reader

You're reading part five

Story Summary: Nam-gyu gets a new job and finds himself falling for the girl behind the deli counter.

Words: 2.3k

Tags/Warnings: Nam-gyu and Thanos have PTSD, canon divergence, Thanos lives, Nam-gyu doesn't know how to process negative emotions, angst, self harm, fluff, smut, dry humping, p n v, unprotected, creampie

A/N: Haiii what a whiplash of tags

It's been absolutely forever since I've written smut so I apologize if this isn't good LMAO

I just felt I might as well give you guys a little gift after last chapter

Anyway I'm not sure if this is going to be the last chapter. But I feel like it's a fitting end for these two. I might do some little tid bits in the future, I've got some ideas already, but you'll just have to bare with me.

I'm a little iffy about this chapter. I have no idea if it makes sense or if it's actually good, but I think that's only because I kind of struggled to write it and have been staring at it WAY TOO LONG.

MASTERLIST

Lightning strikes rippled through the dark rainy skies above Nam-gyu’s apartment. Streaks of yellow light blooming before each thunderous boom echoed above. The awning above shielded Nam-gyu from the downpour that fell in thick drops, smacking against the ground in quick succession. 

Nam-gyu’s chest felt hollow, emotions numb, but his head still had a storm raging inside. He felt terrible. You had been so excited to show him and Su-bong all that Halloween had to offer in America.

He would be lying if he said he didn't share your enthusiasm, but the events of this morning had ruined everything.

A particularly bad nightmare had woken Nam-gyu up. Sweat was covering his chest and the back of his neck. He blinked several times trying to register where he was, your horrified screams still echoing through his head. 

He had wanted to call you, to receive the comfort your voice always brought him, but he didn’t want to worry you so early in the morning.

Throughout the day his thoughts ran wild, the nightmare playing over and over in more and more gruesome scenarios. Nam-gyu felt like he was being sucked back into that nightmarish place with each minute that passed. 

Nam-gyu flicked the flimsy ashes of his cigarette onto the pavement below. He picked at the skin around his fingernails carelessly. His eyelids sagged a little, his lips downturned in a cold expression, irritation jabbing itself into his side. 

He honestly felt embarrassed, a brief insecure thought of “Am I overreacting?” passing through his head. Nam-gyu was used to acting like this around Su-bong, having witnessed each other at their very worst many times. But to have you see this part of him? It made him want to crawl out of his skin.

You shouldn’t have to be with someone so broken. 

Nam-gyu didn’t want to admit it to himself, but his friend was right. 

He couldn’t keep tearing himself apart like this. And he knew once he fell down that slippery slope, he would drag you down right alongside him.

He would become the worst version of himself all over again. The self centered, arrogant, careless asshole he always became when he was high. 

The cherry of his cigarette was so bright against the blackened night sky, the white paper burning back, peeling into a burnt black before turning grey as he took another slow drag. 

Just one more score… One more hit… Just one more bump… One last time…

The cigarette sizzled against Nam-gyu’s wrist, he sucked in a loud hiss through his teeth. The burning pain bloomed through his skin as he let the remains of the orange filter fall to the ground pathetically, an angry red burn staring back at him. 

~~~

The next few days dragged on at an agonizing pace. You hadn’t seen Nam-gyu or Su-bong since that night, and it left a pit of hopelessness in your stomach. You constantly had to remind yourself to put your phone away, rereading the text Su-bong had sent you over and over again. 

“Just give us a few days and I promise you’ll get some answers.”

Each passing second you waited for that chime to come. Glancing back to the black screen of your phone more often than you would like to admit. That nausea stirred by anxiety bit at the back of your throat for hours on end during the second day, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

In a way you were terrified that this would somehow result in the end of your relationship, overthinking every possible outcome that could happen once Su-bong finally does text you. 

You knew deep down that you were being ridiculous. But in the past your relationships have ended over much more trivial things. Stupid things that could have been talked about, solved with a simple conversation. 

No, this couldn’t be what ended things with Nam-gyu. You couldn’t let someone like him slip through your fingers like that. No matter how broken or bruised he thought he was. 

But as you sat on his couch listening to Su-bong recount the events they experienced while in South Korea, you finally started to understand. 

The blood and carnage they witnessed, it would have been unbelievable if Su-bong didn’t show you the articles to back up everything he said. 

“BREAKING: Underground deathmatch operation in South Korea finally comes to a halt, forty two people rescued, number of arrests unknown at this time.” 

You looked over at Nam-gyu who was at the other end of the couch, legs tucked into his chest as he smoked a blunt lazily, looking everywhere but at you. He hasn’t said a word since you sat down, his fingers dragging across his bottom lip softly as he listened to his friend talk. 

A tense silence hung in the air after Su-bong finished. His eyes lingered on Nam-gyu before looking at you. 

How does someone even respond to something like this? Where do you even begin? You have never watched someone die, let alone be murdered. In all honesty you thought that Nam-gyu might have just relapsed, and that he was too scared to tell you. 

You could have never guessed it was something as horrifying as this. 

Nam-gyu cleared his throat, “Please don’t feel like you need to pity me. The stuff we went through was… It was bad but-" He was quiet for a second, stuck on his own words, "Fuck I don’t even know how to talk about this shit, nevermind.” He laughed bitterly, going back to smoking. 

Being stuck in an environment like that can fundamentally change a person for life. Preyed upon at their lowest points, broken down into the worst versions of yourself. Hundreds of people ripping each other apart lest they fall first, having to fight your way out with no guarantee that you would live to see the sunlight again.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like for them. 

“All we’re asking is for you to be a little patient with us.” Su-bong said finally, picking awkwardly at the strings on his pants. 

You realize that they both must have felt extremely vulnerable right now. One of their darkest secrets finally out in the open, revealing the throbbing gash that was their minds. 

“Of course.” 

~~~

Nam-gyu’s room was freezing. A fan humming loudly in the corner of his room, the notch turned to the highest setting. The curtain over his window fluttered, the streetlights from outside briefly lighting his sparsely decorated walls, illuminating your soft gaze. Nam-gyu could almost trick himself into thinking stars were in your eyes, sparkling as they stared into his soul. 

Your fingertips kissed the skin of his cheek, your lips a sweet caress against his as you whispered softly to him. Words that soaked into his skin like sunlight on a summer’s day, he could almost hear birds chirp in the back of his mind as his eyes slipped closed.

That storm raging inside of him slowly turned into a soft drizzle, and for a brief moment Nam-gyu almost felt like a rainbow could bloom from behind the grey clouds of his mind. 

You made everything feel right. 

Every thorny fear stabbed into Nam-gyu’s quickly beating heart kissed away by each touch. 

“I love you, Nam-gyu… More than I have ever loved anyone.” You whispered against his cheek. 

His blunt fingernails scratched oh so softly at the skin under your shirt, drawing meaningless patterns as you continued showering him in your adoration.

Nam-gyu swore that his heart was going to beat out of his chest, the only thing that plagued his mind now was you. 

“I’m really sorry…” Nam-gyu finally spoke up, his voice weaker than he had expected it to be. 

You looked at him curiously, fingers combing through his hair gently. Goosebumps rose up on Nam-gyu’s arms as he tried to think about what he wanted to say next. 

“I know that you were really scared a few days ago… And I just feel bad, I should have told you about all of this sooner, but…” He took a deep, shaky breath, “I was terrified that you would see me differently. Like I'm some broken… thing that needed fixing.” 

A kiss was pressed softly to Nam-gyu’s forehead, then to his cheek, there was a long beat of silence. Nam-gyu could tell you were carefully figuring out how to word your response. 

“Don’t apologize for not telling me. I’m just thankful that you felt safe enough to let me in like this.” 

~~~

Over the next month things started to settle back down. Nam-gyu still struggled, as any normal person would in his circumstance. But eventually your usual routines were slowly restored, and things felt like they were back to normal again.

Nam-gyu was smiling a lot more, his usual playful attitude finally shining back through. It seemed as though a weight was finally being lifted from his tense shoulders, allowing him to relax back into his life. 

And as a way to provide a helpful distraction from their troubles, you got them into one of your favorite shows that you watched as a teenager. 

It was an American show that neither man had heard of before, they were interested enough to start watching it, and now they were hooked. You wished so desperately you could watch for the first time all over again. Wishing you could share their shocked reactions when their wide eyes would meet yours. 

“Oh my god- get this bitch out of my face.” Nam-gyu groaned, a particularly annoying character walking on screen. 

“He’s really not that bad.” Su-bong commented, crunching loudly on a piece of popcorn, “At least he killed that one guy.” 

Nam-gyu glances up at you from where his head was laying on your thigh, as if to say “Can you believe this guy?” before rolling his eyes and saying,

“Yeah that was the most useful thing he’s done this entire season.”

A small laugh leaves you, your fingers softly playing with his hair. Your fingertips softly brushed against the shell of his ear, making him shiver a little. There was a certain heat to your touch, grabbing his attention as you trailed closer to the base of his neck and around to trace the side of his adams apple. 

You watched him carefully. Watched as his hand slowly came up to your thigh, gripping just above your knee, his body was more tense than before. But his eyes didn’t leave the screen for a second, not even as your fingertips dipped below the collar of his shirt and your fingernails scratched against the skin just below his collarbone. 

~~~

His lips whispered across your skin, fingers gripping harshly on your hips as he brought you closer. You could feel how hard he was against your clothed center. You could feel the heat of his cock pressing into you as you grind down against him, small moans slipping from his mouth between breathless kisses. 

Your neck was wet with his spit, bite marks already blooming into delicious bruises. One of your hands weaved through his hair, deepening your desperation as his tongue made its way past your parted lips. 

He guides your hips with precision, the press of him making your desire heighten with each salacious movement. You felt like a woman starved, every fibre of your being craving him. With every sound that left his lips, every time your name dripped from his tongue. 

“Fuck, honey.” He whispered against your lips, he braced a hand on your back as he flipped the both of you over, his hips working against yours harder than before, “Fuck…”

Nam-gyu separated himself from you for just a second, pushing his boxers down just enough. You were quick to remove your own underwear, throwing it to the floor. Your legs quickly found their way back to his waist, your hands pulling him back down for another kiss. 

You couldn’t keep your hands off of him. Your lips pressed soft kisses to his jaw when he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, pushing himself inside of you so slowly. The stretch of his cock made your lips part with a gasp, your nails bit into his shoulder as he started grinding into you, the tip kissing your cervix. 

“Shit, baby, always so fucking tight.” His words sent jolts through your whole body, “So good...” He whispered into your ear. 

His first thrust almost pushed the air from your lungs, a steady pace being set as his hands explored your chest. He squeezed your breast before he brought his hand to brush his thumb against your throat. 

Sweet moans poured from his mouth as he pressed messy kisses to the side of your throat. His hips slapped yours loudly, his cock ramming so deep inside you that it leaves you breathless. You felt like you were vibrating with pleasure. 

“‘S fucking good- shit.” His hand trailed down between your sweaty bodies, his middle finger finding your clit. Sparks traveled through your body to the tips of your toes, his fingers massaged against your bundle of nerves softly.

“Please…” You whine out pathetically. 

“You gonna cum baby?” You could see the smirk playing at the corner of his lips. 

His hips were slamming into you harder now, fucking into you like it would be the last time. He was savoring every single drag of his cock inside your velvet walls, squeezing against him so tightly, pulling him back in. 

“Nam-gyu, oh fuck!” Your thighs shook against him as your orgasm crashed into you, your fingers clawing against his shoulders. 

“Shit.” He gasped, his hips grinding into yours and you could feel him twitch as he finally came, hot spurts coating your insides. 

Nam-gyu’s eyes met yours. They were soft, swimming with unspoken emotions, a small smile tugged at his lips. His fingers brushed away the sweaty strands of hair from your cheek, fingertips grazing your jaw as he brought you into a crushing kiss. A kiss that said, 

I love you… I love you… I love you…

[pyrodolls]

this isn’t paw-some… (bi-han, tomas x gn reader)

WARNINGS: slight angst to comfort in both, established relationship in bi-han's, slight spoilers for mk1 story mode, gender neutral reader

SUMMARY: bi-han and tomas vrbada somehow turned into animals! but you have no idea it's them, so you end up telling them a secret... (both separate)

A/N: heyyy so um i had no idea what to write yesterday bc i hated every draft i had but i FINALLY got this one done. idk why but i'm in a phase where i hate everything i write. thanks for your patience guys!

bi-han

bi-han woke up to his bedsheets completely engulfing him. in confusion, he tried pulling them aside, but it barely moved an inch.

“what is this…?” he tried mumbling, but instead it came out sounding like the meows of a cat.

in a panic, he immediately rolled out of his bedsheets and tried to stand up, but his legs weren't strong enough to hold him up.

in fact, he didn't even have his legs anymore. he had little legs and paws.

this had to be a nightmare. there's no way he just woke up as a cat. fortunately, he happened to have a day off. but he still had many questions. why did he wake up as a cat? is this a permanent change?

but he knew there was no need to stress. bi-han needed to chill out. panicking doesn't solve anything. he must find you, surely you can recognize him immediately.

first, he must learn to walk as a cat. walking on all fours felt so strange to him, especially because his new paws were so sensitive to the hard, wooden floors. but he can get used to it for now.

you heard a quiet scratching noise at your door. thinking someone probably just accidentally brushed up against your door, you ignored it. until you heard it again. and again. louder each time.

you groaned, getting up and opening the door to a cute black cat.

"oh hello there! what are you doing in a place like this?" you giggled, immediately picking it up and petting it gently.

the cat purred in contentment, and rubbed its head against your hand.

while bi-han enjoyed the close proximity to you, he still needed to find out how to let you know *he* is the cat you are holding.

"i wonder if bi-han would approve of you wandering around." you sighed.

bi-han meowed as loud as he could, tapped on your chest with his little paw, then pointed towards himself. he hoped you understood what he was trying to say.

"it looks like you're trying to stretch. maybe we can go for a walk?" you offered, setting him down.

'this is gonna take a while.' bi-han thought. for now, all he could do was grumpily walk beside you.

-

"...and then, bi-han told me he was too busy for a night out. i understand that he's the grandmaster and stuff, but i just wish i could spend more time with him. you know?" you ranted to the cat walking beside you, *still* unaware it was bi-han himself.

he listened intently to what you had to say. it was true, he was very busy most of the time and couldn't spend much time with you. but he had no idea it was affecting you this much. once he turns human again, he'll make sure to fix the problem.

after an hour or so of walking around, you finally got tired and walked back to your home. once you reached your bedroom, you picked up the cat you spent your day with and placed it on your bed.

"i hope you don't have any diseases, that wouldn't be very good for me." you laughed nervously, as you climbed into bed next to the cat.

bi-han looked at you in annoyance and scrunched his little nose as if you just called him something offensive.

"anyways, goodnight little one. i hope we can find your owner tomorrow. if not, i can take care of you! as long as bi-han allows it..." you trailed off. "in fact, i'm really scared of displeasing him.."

bi-han's ears perked up at what you said. why would you be so scared of pleasing him? is he so intimidating that he even makes his significant other frightened?

"i mean, it's not like he's aggressive or anything, i just don't want to disappoint him. i feel like i'm walking on eggshells around him. if i say the wrong thing, he would think i'm unworthy of being with him. sometimes... i'm not sure if he really loves me. if he really loved me, he would put more effort into spending time with me... right?" you whispered, as a small tear escaped from your eye.

bi-han's heart broke a bit when he heard that. he knows that he is a bit.. judgemental. but he never meant to make you feel unloved.

he crawled up to you and licked your tear away. he hoped that it would make you feel a bit better about your situation. he made a mental note to talk to you as soon as he was human again. the last thing bi-han wanted to do was hurt you. even after all the people he has betrayed, hurt, and even killed... you were the only person he never wished to harm.

he cuddled up beside you and made himself comfortable. surely a bit of physical touch would make you feel better? it's not like he has been doing that in his human form anyway.. which he notes to fix soon.

soon you both drifted off to sleep peacefully, with bi-han curled up comfortably in your arms.

the next morning, you woke up to bi-han sleeping right next to you. when did he get there?

“bi-han?” you whispered.

when he woke up, he immediately checked his arms and legs. thankfully, he was human again.

“good morning, beloved. how did you sleep?” bi-han asked, strangely casual even though he magically appeared in your bed.

“i slept.. fine. but i had a cat with me. it was a cute little black cat, it showed up at my door out of nowhere yesterday. it was kind of grumpy, but it listened to me when i ranted to it. it kind of reminded me of you.” you giggled.

“about that…” bi-han sighed. “…i have some explaining to do.”

tomas vrbada

tomas had invited you to madam bo’s for dinner, and he was planning on confessing his feelings to you there. but unfortunately, he couldn't exactly make it.

he accidentally fell asleep, and when he woke up he realized he was late. he immediately got up from his bed and tried standing up, but he couldn't stand on his two legs anymore. because his legs were now full of fur, and he had paws.

this could not be happening. the first time he gained the courage to make a move and ask you out, he ends up turning into a dog.

he had to find a way to get to you and do something. what if you think he stood you up on purpose?

-

you were sitting at a table at madam bo's, waiting for tomas to arrive. you get that he's probably busy, so you were being very patient and decided to wait a bit. but you were sitting there for so long, the place was going to close soon.

you were about to get up and leave, until a golden retriever dog ran up to you with its tail wagging intensely.

it didn't have a collar, so it seemed to be a random stray dog that took a liking to you. but it also seemed so well-behaved, how could it be a stray?

tomas was relieved to see that you were still at the restaurant. he felt bad that he made you wait for nothing, but at least that was a sign that you cared about him.

"oh, hello there. what could you be doing in a place like this?" you greeted, petting the dog in front of you.

tomas felt a bit strange getting petted by you, but it somehow felt really good.

"i was waiting for someone, but he never came..." you sighed. "this place is about to close. maybe you can accompany me while i walk home?"

tomas didn't hesitate to walk beside you, but he couldn't help but feel extremely guilty for wasting your time. he'll find a way to make up for it.

-

"i know he's a busy guy, but wouldn't he know if he couldn't make it today? i kind of got myself all dressed up for nothing.." you admitted, opening up to the loyal dog that never strayed from your side throughout your walk.

tomas's heart broke when he heard how you felt. if only he was human at that moment, he would've been apologizing profusely and trying to make you feel better.

"i really, really like him. i think he's so kind, fun, and he has always cared about me. i was so excited to go on this date with him, because i thought that maybe it was a sign that he liked me back. i'm trying to stay positive and hope that he was probably just busy, but what if he just doesn't actually care about me?" you sighed.

tomas whimpered in response, feeling extremely guilty about hurting you. he never meant to make you feel that way.

"i don't know if you are sad for me or if you're just hungry.. but you're a good listener. you remind me a lot of tomas..." you mumbled, feeling appreciated by your little companion.

-

once you arrived to your house, tomas felt very creepy. he was walking around your bedroom, looking at the little trinkets you have and sniffing around. he couldn't help it, it's like he had an instinct to snoop around your living space now that he was a dog.

"i'm really tired... stay here, and i'll find you some kind of blanket to sleep on. i have to put on my pyjamas first, though." you said, silently regretting that you wasted such a good outfit to be stood up.

when you returned to tomas, he was still sitting in your bedroom and patiently waiting. you laid out a blanket for him, and then you crawled into your own bed.

"goodnight. hopefully i can find your owner tomorrow, if you have one. even though you probably can't understand me and i'm just talking to myself.." you mumbled, rolling over and going to sleep.

tomas tried to think of a way to make it up to you when he was human again. he felt so guilty for hurting you. he hoped you didn't lose feelings for him, it would make him feel even worse if you did.

-

the next morning, you woke up and you were expecting to see the same golden retriever from last night sleeping on the floor.

instead, you looked down and saw tomas himself peacefully asleep on your floor, wearing nothing but a blanket over his privates.

you immediately pinched yourself. this had to be a dream. you had so many questions. what happened with the dog? did tomas break in while you were sleeping?

"tomas?" you whispered.

he slowly opened his eyes, and he let out a sigh of relief as soon as he saw he had his regular body back.

but that sense of accomplishment faded as soon as he noticed that he was pretty much naked on your bedroom floor.

"good morning..." tomas greeted awkwardly.

"good morning." you replied, trying to look respectfully.

you both stood in awkward silence for a solid minute before you finally spoke up.

"so.. what brings you here... naked...?" you asked.

tomas blushed. "well..."

-

"so.. you were the dog from last night?" you questioned.

"yeah. i'm sorry for uh.. you know, turning into a dog and accidentally leaving you alone on that date." tomas apologized.

"did you hear everything i said last night?" you said quietly, embarrassed that you practically poured your heart out to him without knowing it.

"i did. i am still so sorry that i hurt you. i'll make it up to you, i promise. i'll take you out for dinner again, but i'll show up this time. and i'll pay the bill!" he offered.

hell yeah, free food. who could resist that? you instantly agreed to his offer and you had hope that the date would go well this time, and then maybe you two can become something more.

"great! i'll go get ready right now!"

"tomas, you have hours to get ready, there is no need to rush. and you're still naked, by the way." you sighed.

[residentrookie]

NFU 

a messy exes/right person, wrong time jegulus microfic inspired by the song NFU by del water gap for my bb @static-radio-ao3 as my thank u for the introduction :))

“Hello?” 

“Regulus,” a hoarse voice rasps on the other end of the phone, drawing out the syllables of his name. Rough and low and… drunk. Extremely fucking drunk, by the sound of it.

Regulus stiffens. “James. Are you-- you’re drunk calling me. Again.” 

“Very astute. You’re always so astute, Reg.” 

He checks the clock on his nightstand with bleary eyes. 3:30 AM. God. Not this again.

“I thought we talked about this,” he sighs, sitting up and rubbing a hand over his eyes. 

“We don’t talk much these days,” James points out rationally. “I think I would have remembered.” 

Regulus rolls his eyes. Not fucking likely. 

“Since you were in a similar state the last time we had this conversation, I’m not surprised you don’t remember. Just so we’re clear that doesn’t make it okay, James. This is— you have to stop doing this.” 

By ‘this’ Regulus means getting wasted and calling him when James is too far gone to talk himself out of the idea. And, if Regulus were smart, he would stop picking up when James’ name flashes across his screen. 

“Like I said. Astute.” 

Drunk James is his worst nightmare, truly. Drunk James is a walking, talking reminder of everything he doesn’t have anymore, everything he will never have again. When he calls, lacking crucial social skills like self-control and any modicum of a filter, Regulus is forced to be the rational one, reminding them both that this boundary exists for a reason. A very good reason.

“Okay. Well I’m glad— it’s good that we talked about this. But this is— this has to be the last time. I’m hanging up now, okay?” 

James continues as if he never spoke. “How’s your um— your boyfriend doing?”

Immediately no. 

“I’m not talking about this with you—” Regulus attempts to shut him down, but James is nothing if not obstinate. 

“You’re still dating the guy with the dumb fucking name, right?” 

James knows full well that he is. Sirius would have informed him otherwise. He just wants to hear Regulus say it because he’s fucking sick and twisted. Naturally, Regulus can’t give him the satisfaction, so he avoids the question. 

“You can’t think Regulus is a perfectly normal name and then turn around and shit on a guy for being named Kingsley.” 

James scoffs on the other end of the phone. “I can shit on him as much as I want. Fucking hate that fucker.” 

“You’ve never met him. You can’t hate someone you’ve never even met.” 

“Sirius hates him.” 

“Sirius doesn’t hate him—” Sirius just wishes he was you. 

“Mhm. Told me so. Said he’s a little bitch who can’t hold his liquor.”

Now it’s Regulus’ turn to scoff. “This coming from you right now? You sound so fucked up, I doubt you can even see straight. Not that you could before, but—” 

“I’m not fucked up,” James insists, then says calmly, “I just missed the way that you talk.” 

This. This was why they had to stop. In his worst moments, Regulus loathes the fact that Sober James all but ignores him most of the time, only bothering to text him on important holidays or birthdays. That is, until he’s reminded that Drunk James wants to ruin him— completely and thoroughly— by the casual cruelty of speaking his mind and expecting Regulus to go on peacefully with his life as if he didn’t just upend it entirely. 

“James…” he starts shakily. 

“Shit, that sounded stupid. This was,” James hiccups, “not my best idea, I fear. Rash. Extremely rash feeling.” 

“What, drunk calling your ex? Yeah, I would say it’s one of your worst.” 

James is quiet for a moment. “You kill me, you know? I-I hate talking to you.” 

Rage wells up in Regulus’ throat so fast he nearly chokes on it. “You called me—”

“God, you sound good. You always sound sexy when you’re angry, did you know that?  Rougher… hotter. All red in the face and your neck…I can almost see it, if I squint.”  James pauses, presumably squinting like a drunken idiot. “Maybe that’s why I called you— to make you angry. To hear you be angry at me again. Stupid fucking thing to miss, isn’t it?”

Yet again, Regulus is at a loss. 

“You— I’m— God, you’re a real fucking bastard, you know that? Do you have any idea how excruciating it is to talk to you when you’re like this?” 

But James ignores him, saying ruefully, “Sirius told me, he always tells me, he says, ‘Don’t do it, James. You always regret it, you always yell at me the next day for letting you call him,’ but he can’t stop me,” a childish giggle bursts from him. “I’m too fast. Much, much faster than him, just for the record. He’s never once beat me in a foot race, and if he says he has he’s a big, fat fucking liar—”

“James, I sincerely don’t give a fuck about that— be honest, did you run away from him at the bar?” 

Drunk James will do that. He’s a runner. Well, not when Regulus was around to keep him on a tight leash, but it seems that without him, James is turning back to some of his worst habits. 

The line goes quiet. Then, “A little bit.” 

“It’s a yes or no question, James.” 

“Mm.” He seems to think on it. “Yes, then.” 

Regulus tosses his hand in the air, forgetting James can’t see him. “Go back and find him!” 

“Don’t want to,” James sniffs. “Tryin to make my mistakes in peace.” 

“You— I’m hanging up and calling Sirius.” 

“No, no don’t!” James yells into the receiver, making Regulus wince and pull his phone away from his ear. James’ voice is much quieter when he speaks again. 

“Don’t, I have to say— I wanted to tell you. I have to tell you that I’m sorry, Regulus. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

A pit of dread forms in his stomach. James sounds wretched. He sounds like how Regulus feels when he thinks too long about how far they’ve drifted apart, how little they speak to each other anymore. For one infinitesimal second, Regulus gets the satisfaction of knowing that he’s not alone in this specific shade of misery— dark blue and bottomless. And then he reminds himself that he’s sober and his ex-boyfriend is drunk and they shouldn’t even be fucking talking right now if they knows what’s good for them. 

“James, look, you’re drunk, you’re emotional—”

“‘S not what I’m apologizing for.” 

“What, then?” 

“Everything. All of it. I never—I wanted…” 

Don’t say it, Regulus begs silently. Please don’t say what I—

“I still love you,” James breathes out. “I love you so much I can’t breathe around it.” 

Regulus lets his eyes sink closed, firmly shuttering the tears forming in his eyes. He can’t let himself say it back. He can’t. If he does…

“James…” Regulus lets himself savor the sound of his name on his tongue. Then says softly, “It’s okay.” 

They both know it’s not. 

______________________________

James looks down at the number on his phone. Blinks, just to make sure he isn’t imagining… but, no, he isn’t making it up. He picks up his phone, his apprehension growing. 

“Regulus?” he asks, unsure. 

A snort sounds on the other line. “Hm, fffancy seeing you here.” 

James blinks again. “...We’re talking over the phone.”

He doesn’t have to see Regulus to know that he’s just waved James’ words away with a flippant hand. “Metaphorically, then.” 

It’s been weeks since the last time they spoke. James remembers very little of that ill-conceived conversation, except of course for the part where he said the one thing he promised himself he would never say again because his brain hates him. It’s played on a loop in his head everyday since, his ragged, sincere words and Regulus’ noncommittal response to them. 

It’s okay, he had said. 

It was anything but okay. They both knew that. 

He had been doing so well, had been training himself to think of other things besides his ex boyfriend and his ex boyfriend’s new boyfriend and what the two of them were getting up to together, all the fun things they were probably doing while James was just focused on getting through his day. On getting to the next one. The next. The next the next the next the next the next—

“You don’t have ‘nything to say? Hm?” Regulus’ words slur. Unusual for him. Regulus was always so in control of himself. 

James frowns. “Are you okay? You sound—”

“Drunk? Well, that’s because I am. Royally, massively fucking toasted. Thought I’d return the favor and call you for once. ‘S your lucky day.” 

“Oh. I guess— I deserve that.” 

“I’ll say. Taste of your own medicine. Drink up, Potter.” 

James huffs a humorless laugh. “You must be drunk if you’re calling me ‘Potter’. You never call me that.” 

“Never say never, Potter,” he spits out meanly.  “It’s never a good idea to say never, remember? Remember how not good of an idea it is to use the word never? My therapist, she says I need to stop talking in absolutes. Never and always. Never say never, I learned that from her. Shame you didn’t, too.” 

James sinks into a kitchen chair, burying his face in his free hand, rubbing out the headache growing in his left temple. “You were right,”  he admits. “This is excruciating.” 

This conversation is making him feel awful for every single time he’s dialed Regulus drunk, the barrier between his thoughts and his words nowhere to be found. Regulus was right. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. He deserved this for every single second Regulus had to keep his cool on the other line while James was busy fucking them up a little more than they already had been. 

“Like remember when you said we’d never break up? Or when you said you’d always love me? Hilarious. Really, really funny stuff.” 

Regulus’ voice is liquid rage, red hot and acidic. James swears it’s burning him through the phone. 

He sighs. “Regulus. Can we not?” 

“No, no, we should talk about it. It’s been long enough. We can be rational adults and have a damn conversation. Here, you know what, I’ll even go first. I wanted you to come with me, you know. I should have asked you. To come with me.” 

James feels his heart stutter in his chest at those words. “You did ask me to come with you,” he murmurs. 

Regulus was waiting for that, like a snake rearing to strike. “Wait. Yessss, that’s right. I asked you to come with me and you said no! Now I remember. You said fucking no.” 

James clenches his jaw, his own anger slowly rising up the column of his throat. “I didn’t say no. I asked for some time to decide if I wanted to upend my life and move across the country, which is a pretty sane response to a question of that fucking magnitude. You’re the one who decided my hesitation meant I didn’t love you.” 

“Well, it sure didn’t feel like you loved me when you let me leave.” 

“Let you—?!” James cuts off, knowing he’ll blow a gasket if he doesn’t calm himself.  “Regulus,” he starts, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but no one lets you do anything! You do whatever you please and damn the consequences! I just never— I didn’t want to be one of those consequences.” 

Regulus, to no one’s shock, does not attempt to calm himself. In fact, James fears he’s only stoked the flames. 

“You are hands down the most infuriating human being on the face of the goddamn planet! Of course you’re blaming me! Of course, like you were just an innocent bystander while I went about ruining our relationship! Like you had nothing to do with it! You had no part in it, no, not perfect James Potter, never him! I cannot believe— I just— it’s all so— fuck!” 

His voice breaks on the word and then the rest of him breaks too. His tears sound painful, like they’re fighting they’re way out of Regulus’ body with each sob. He cries loudly and messily and James can’t pretend like the sound doesn’t break his heart all over again. 

“Regulus?” He makes his voice gentle. Soothing. “Hey, don’t cry. Listen, you’re drunk. Why don’t we try talking when you’ve sobered up?” 

“No, James,” he sobs, gasping for breath. “You don’t understand. I fucked up. I fucked up.” 

James sits up straighter, alarmed. 

“Are you okay? Are you safe? What’s going on—” 

Regulus sniffles. “No, I’m— I’m at my place. I’m fine. It’s just… it’s Kingsley.” 

James’ mind goes still in a way that should scare him but doesn’t. “Did he hurt you?” He doesn’t  bother keeping the cool rage out of his voice. 

“No!” Regulus nearly shouts. “No.. the opposite, actually. I hurt him. Badly.” 

James closes his eyes and takes a deep, slow breath. “Look… I’m sorry you’re upset but I really don’t want to listen to your lover’s spat—”

“I said your name last night,” Regulus whispers. 

“You—what?” 

Regulus doesn’t hold himself back. “He fucked me and I said your name. When I came. Yelled it, actually. No way to hide it. James and Kingsley don’t sound remotely similar.” 

And that— well. James has lost the ability for rational thought. “Oh,” he manages.

“Yeah, oh,” Regulus mimics him harshly. “He stormed out and we haven’t talked since. And I think— I think he’s going to break up with me now. He should break up with me. It’s— what I did is unforgivable.” 

No matter how hard he tries, James can’t think of a single thing to say to this information. Naturally, Regulus won’t let that stand. 

“James? Are you gonna say something?” 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks weakly. 

“Say you’re sorry!” Regulus shouts. “Say you’re sorry for drunk calling me all the fucking time, for reminding me that you exist, for reminding me I still fucking love—” 

He cuts off, but not quite quickly enough. James still heard everything he didn’t say. 

“I am sorry,” he says, voice rough. “I’m really, really sorry, Reg.”

He hears the hitch in Regulus’ breath. If he closes his eyes he can see Regulus before him, see the pain take up residence on his beautiful face, the way he scrunches his nose when he cries, his eyes going stark red, his cheeks staining themselves pink. 

He can see Regulus so clearly in his mind. But he didn’t see what was coming next. 

“I-I just want to be with you again,” Regulus cries softly. “I want to be with you, baby. I’ll move back, I’ll quit my program, I’ll move in with you like you wanted, I’ll do anything— but I can’t live like this anymore, James, I can’t, I can’t—”

James’ own tears slide down his cheeks silently, falling off the cliff-edge of his chin. 

“Regulus,” he says as firmly as he can manage. “Stop it. Please. You didn’t move away on a whim, okay? You’re in an amazing program. You love Chicago, you love the city and the river walk and the Art Institute and that bookshop across from Grant Park—” 

“You can’t— I didn’t tell you about any of—” 

“I pay attention. I know you love it. And I love where I live. I love my job here.” He forces the next words to leave his mouth, even though they taste like poison. “We’re… in the right places for ourselves. I have to believe that.” 

This doesn’t satisfy Regulus. The most twisted part of him is glad about that. 

“Why don’t you get it, James? I can’t be in the right place if I’m not with you. The right place doesn’t exist if we aren’t in it together.” 

James squeezes his eyes shut tightly. Regulus can’t know how badly this is hurting him. He can’t know that James feels like dying every day they spend apart, that James has applied for over ten jobs in Chicago just to hear nothing back, has looked at apartments in Regulus’ neighborhood enough times he’s saved the site to his favorites bar. Even when Regulus was dating someone else. Even after Regulus had moved on from him. 

He's looked at it from so many angles, tried to reconfigure it so many times in his mind, and nothing made sense for them. One of them would always be giving up something, making sacrifices for the other, letting the resentment build.

Even thought Regulus is saying everything he’s been wanting to hear for an entire year...

He’s drunk. He’s drunk and he doesn’t know what he’s saying. Doesn’t know what he wants. 

“We’re happy, Regulus,” James tells him stiffly. “We’re both happy.” 

Maybe if he keeps repeating it, he’ll finally start to believe it. 

“If this is what happiness feels like,” Regulus snarls, “then I don’t want to be fucking happy.” 

No. And James doesn’t either. 

“You’ll feel differently in the morning. I promise.” 

Regulus laughs without humor. “I’ll still want you in the morning. Being sober doesn’t change that. It just lets me hold on to a shred of my dignity and not call you to tell you about it. But it doesn’t change a damn thing. You have to know that.” 

He’s drunk, James reminds himself. He’s just drunk. 

“Goodnight, Regulus,” he chokes out. 

“I still love you, James.” 

“It’s okay, Reg. It’ll be okay.” 

They both know it won’t be. 

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Age Line-up)

Hello guys, I decided that I would put the guys into a (loose) comprehensive list of ages. This is all relative to whenever Nightmare first became 13 again. This is set 7 years after the coronation and Dream's banishment. (More Explanations below the cut)

So I'll start in the order of when these goobers met Night.

Ccino! He met Nightmare when he was born, and is 7 years older than him when they were children. Now, thanks to the gap in time (in which Nightmare appeared somewhere between 20-30) they have 14 years apart in age. Ccino is 27 at the start of the main plot.

Killer! He met Nightmare one year into his rule, almost on the dot. He is 25 when the main plot begins. (They met when Killer was 19. Killer was the correct age to be put up for death, a legal adult, while his partner in crime was too young and therefore was still imprisoned.)

Dust! He met Nightmare during his second year of rule. He is 30 when the main plot begins. (Dust was about 25 when Nightmare released him from imprisonment to help him learn about the black market.) Dust is the oldest of the Knights. Yes he gets teased ruthlessly about it by the others.

Horror! He also met Nightmare during the second year of his rule (though later in the year than Dust). He is 28 when the main plot begins. (He met Night when he was about 23, almost old enough to take over his family's farm, but his brother could handle it, so he chose to accept Night's offer and teach him to improve farms across the kingdom.)

Cross! Cross met Nightmare 5 years into his rule, and is 20 when the main plot begins. (His home kingdom collapsed when he was 16, he spent 2 years wandering with Ink, then met Dream. Dream asked him to spy on Night, and he was caught, so he met Night when he was just 18 and spent 2 years with him.) He's young, and he always kinda felt out of place, but the others adopted him in really easily, and the bond between a family is something Cross won't risk losing, so he's ultra loyal.

Error! Error met Nightmare 6 years into his rule, and is 15 when the main plot begins. (He ran away when he was 14 when Geno left, and was almost immediately scooped up by Nightmare within the same year. Hence why Fresh couldn't find him.) Error has very little time to acclimate to Nightmare's adult habits before he's slammed with the Young Night information (therefore he didn't have as many weird apprehensions)

The others and their connections to the others start... here!

Dream! Dream has been aging normally, so he is now 20! (He left the kingdom harboring him at age 15 with Blue, and when he returns to finally face Nightmare he's about 21.)

Blue! Met Dream during his second year in exile, and is now 21. (He left with Dream when he was 16.)

Ink! He has a crazy backstory, but he met Dream when he was 17, and brought Cross w/ him and stayed when Dream was 18. Start of the plot? He's 24! (Ink my beloved, he's crazy, and might be lying about his age, but for the sake of this, he's generally 24.)

Fresh! Age 22 at the start of the story. (He's only 7 when Error is born, and 21 when Error runs away.)

Geno! Age 32 when the plot begins! He leaves when he's about 30 to move and work with Reaper. (I'm retconning some things here, to say that the news of Error disappearing took over a year or two to finally reach Geno's ears. There are a few years worth of conflict between Dream and Night that need to pad out before Geno enters the narrative, so we're gonna say Fresh took a LONG time searching for Error before he finally told Reno the truth.)

Reaper! He's actually so so old. Like. Dusty musty old guy who acts/looks young <3. No canon age for him because he's so outside the range :)

[pinklotushere]

Gotham’s Most Insane Love Triangle (That’s Not Even a Triangle)

Tim Drake has had enough.

Not of being Red Robin—no, he signed up for that nightmare. But of this absolute clown of a villain who has decided to make his civilian life hell. The dude isn’t even a real villain, just some rich, eccentric, probably-a-little-deranged Gotham socialite with too much free time and very questionable taste in romance.

He has been through a lot in his life.

He’s fought assassins, taken down crime lords, and survived the literal Lazarus Pit. But none of that prepared him for this.

Because, apparently, being a billionaire CEO means attracting a very specific brand of problem—namely, a very rich, very persistent, very theatrical stalker-suitor who has decided that Tim is their one true love.

And the worst part? They have no idea he’s Red Robin. They just think Tim Drake, boring businessman, is the ideal romantic partner.

Tim has tried to get rid of them. He’s shut down their advances, ignored their ridiculous gifts (including a whole building—seriously, what was that?), and even considered faking his own death. (Bruce did it like six times. It’s an option.)

Nothing worked.

the courtship? Is aggressive.

Think:

• Giant, embarrassing billboards with love poems that definitely sound like they were written by someone’s AI assistant.

• Dramatic, unsolicited “gifts” (one time, it was a tiger. A real one. In his office. He had to call Damian to get it out).

• Showing up at his press conferences to declare their love, completely derailing everything ("I AM WOOING YOU, TIMOTHY! SAY YES TO DESTINY!" "Sir, this is an earnings call—")

So, in a moment of desperation (and supreme bad decision-making), Tim panicked and told the press that he was already in a relationship.

With both Superboy and Wraith.

Because Tim Drake does not do things halfway.

(Kon does not hesitate. The second Tim says, “Hey, will you pretend to date me?” Kon’s already slinging an arm around his shoulders, grinning, and saying, “Obviously, babe.”

And, okay, maybe he’s having too much fun with it. Maybe Tim gives one kiss on the cheek in public, and suddenly Kon’s cranking the PDA up to 11.

Tim swears Kon is just doing this to annoy him. (Spoiler: He is. And also because he’s in love. But mostly to annoy him.)

Dani has no idea what’s going on. One day, she’s just vibing, and the next, Tim is begging her to be his fake girlfriend in his civilian life while also fake-dating Superboy in his hero life.

“So you’re publicly dating both of us?” she asks. “Yes,” Tim says, exhausted. “At the same time?” “Yes.” "Love that. Love the drama. I’m in.”)

And that’s how he ended up in a very public, very fake, and very annoying love triangle where he is “dating” two of his best friends.

Which prompted the start of plan : get rid of creepy guy

—

Step One: Make the Villain Regret Their Life Choices

If Tim thought this was going to be a subtle plan, Kon and Dani immediately proved him wrong.

Kon goes full Superboy mode. Dramatic rescues? Check. Carrying Tim around way too much? Check. Way too many kisses on the cheek? Check.

Dani (Wraith) is the wildcard. She literally picks Tim up in public like he’s a prize, occasionally phases through walls to randomly show up at his meetings, and once materialized into existence just to kiss Tim’s forehead in front of the press.

Tim cannot do anything about it. Because if he protests, the villain wins. And also because, unfortunately, he kinda likes it.

The villain loves this. It becomes a challenge. They start sending hate letters to Superboy, promising to “win” Tim’s heart from him.

Kon gets way too competitive about it. (“I dare you to try, buddy.” “KON, STOP ENCOURAGING THEM—”)

The media loses their minds. Suddenly, “Tim Drake’s Shocking Super Love Triangle” is trending.

Bart starts a betting pool on whether Tim actually survives this ordeal. Cassie is taking bets on when the fake relationship stops being fake. ("Wait, you all think this is fake?"—Cass, genuinely confused.)

—

Step Two: Turn the Public Against the Villain

The villain’s new strategies are straight out of a soap opera.

They show up at Tim’s press conferences, interrupting him mid-sentence.

( “Timothy! You don’t have to settle! You deserve true love!”

Tim: "I deserve peace.")

They try to out-romance Kon and Dani by sending ridiculous gifts.

• Kon: "Oh, you sent him roses? That’s cute. I carried him to France for pastries this morning."

• Dani: "I made him a custom necklace out of ectoplasm. It glows when he’s in danger. What did you do?"

Tim is so tired.

So, so tired.

For weeks, he's been playing damage control while Gotham's most deranged suitor escalates his antics. What started as embarrassing billboards and ridiculous gifts has somehow escalated into a full-blown public stunt designed to "prove" their love.

The disaster of the day?

A flash marriage proposal.

Tim barely has time to process what's happening before an entire choir descends on him in the middle of a press conference. They begin singing a dramatic, original ballad about love and destiny while the villain (dressed in a tuxedo and cape, because of course they are) strides forward. With an engagement ring, the size of Tim’s suffering.

"Timothy!" they declare, their voices booming through a hidden microphone, because this is obviously being broadcast. "I've waited long enough! Accept my love! Marry me and together we will dominate Gotham's social scene as the couple of the century!"

Tim's eyes twitch. He's two seconds away from making this a Red Robin problem.

fortunately for everyone involved, Kon and Dani have zero chill.

Kon lands from the sky, draping an arm around Tim with the most obnoxiously smug grin imaginable. “Oh, wow. A public proposal? That’s adorable. Almost as adorable as the six months I’ve already spent dating this guy.”

Then he just kisses Tim’s temple like it’s nothing.

Before Tim can recover (he absolutely did not freeze), Dani materializes next to him, grabs Tim like a princess, and kisses the other side of his face.

Timothy Jackson drake-Wayne did not squeak. What?

“You really don’t get it, do you?” she sighs.

And that is the moment the villain realizes they have lost.

Because Gotham? Gotham loves drama. And right now, the story isn’t “Determined Suitor Wins Over Tim Drake”—it’s “Homewrecker Tries to Steal Gotham’s Most Beloved Power Couples” (because, yes, the media still refuses to acknowledge this is a throuple).

The crowd turns on the villain.

• “You’re breaking them up? Boo.”

• “Have you seen the way Superboy looks at him?”

• “Sir, how do you respond to the allegations that you are a clown?”

#TimsuperWraith4Ever trends within minutes.

And the villain, realizing they are rapidly losing public favor, does the only thing they can do—

They flee

(“…Well,” they say, trying to regain some dignity. “I can tell when I’m in over my head.”

(They can’t.)

“I’m going to retreat—for now.”

(They're not coming back.)

And then, with a dramatic wave of their capes, they run away.)

Tim is still being held.

By both of them.

In front of every reporter in Gotham.

Kon, still smiling, pulls Tim even closer to him. "So, babe, how about we go celebrate our victory?"

Dani smiles. "Ooh, yeah. I'm thinking date night."

Tim, who physically can't escape, groans. "I hate you both."

Neither of them let go.

And, okay, maybe he doesn't really mind .

—

Step Three: Realize You’re the Only One Still Pretending

Later, after the chaos dies down and Tim finally gets a second to himself, he turns to Kon and Dani with a sigh.

“Well,” he says. “That was exhausting, but at least it’s over.”

Kon raises an eyebrow. “Over?”

Tim frowns. “Yeah. The villain’s gone, so… y’know. We can drop the act now.”

There’s a long silence.

Then Dani just… tilts her head. “Wait. You think this is fake?”

Tim stares. “What.”

Kon grins. “Oh, babe. You really thought we were faking?”

Tim.exe has stopped working.

Because, oh no, he did think this was fake. But now Kon is looking at him like he’s an idiot, and Dani is smirking like she knew all along, and—

Oh.

Oh, he’s so dumb.

Because this entire time, they weren’t playing a role. They were just—being them. Touchy, affectionate, protective—except now, they had an excuse to be obvious about it.

Tim buries his face in his hands. “Oh my god.”

Dani pats his head. “You’ll get there, babe.”

Kon leans down, kissing the top of his head. “Take your time.”

Tim groans.

(But maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t mind so much.)

—

Bonus: Cassie & Bart, Watching From Afar :

Bart: “You think Tim actually figured it out?”

Cassie : "probably. It was fun watching him suffer"

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

The Nightmare Before Christmas Lost in The Book: Over The Spiral Hill

{1} {2}

-

“ “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.” “ You quote as Jack sang opera to your group, the earlier events of discussing music and dances for the festivities. 

Riddle comments at the words, “I never thought’d you’d be imitating Rook on this… Event.” The dorm head mumbles. You grin at the red-head. “He wishes, the song reminded me of a playwright in our world.” You gesture to Yuu. 

“ “Just because I can’t see it, doesn’t mean I don’t believe it.” “ You say the phrase easily, recalling it for this occasion. “That wasn’t from the playwright though… Still a good quote though, you think?” You ask your group, turning away from them. 

…

You felt your face become warm at the line, embarrassed.

-

“Yuu! Grim, Skully!” You happily show off the different details your outfit held. Reminding you of home, hints of Ramshackle hinted in a few stitches.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t realize your’s was a bit stranger than ours.” Grim says, circling around you curiously. 

“It looks good!” Yuu replied, keeping close to you, you laugh.

“It’s very beautiful!” Skully compliments as you blink. An idea forming into your head..

“Hmm, Yuu, I wanted to ask. Do you remember any holidays from ‘Home’?” You ask carefully, knowing the answer. You pick up Grim, watching the other human ponder.

Yuu eyes you back, eyes glazed over thoughtfully. “No, not as much as you.”

“Oh? What do you mean?” Skully joins in, listening attentively.

“They’re not from Twisted Wonderland!” Grim pipes up. “Grim, shush!” Yuu scolds, while you hand the fur-ball to them. Skully’s lips part slightly, shocked a bit.

“T-Then.. Where is it are you two from?”

Yuu shrugs, clearly not as comfortable as you were about ‘Home’.

“Uh- Let’s say, very far.”

“Worlds away-” Grim is interrupted by Yuu shoving their face his fluffy neck. “OI! Yuu! Quit it!” Grim swats at their hair as you take Skully’s attention away. Linking hands with his as the four of you walk.

“I wanted to say before, that our holidays are sorta the same and different. A few don’t even exist here.”

“Don’t bring up Chr- ACK! AGAIN?! Stop!” Grim whines at Yuu’s affectionate gesture.

“What is “Chr”?” 

“Oh- That’s a holiday from where from and it’s called-”

You pause. “Let’s say, it’s kinda like… “The opposite”, or more of.. Colorful, cold. Instead of pumpkins and autumn leaves. We have snow, depending on the region, along with carols instead of spooky-sweet melodies!” You wink.

“Instead of a “Pumpkin King” we have this guy called S-.”

Interrupted once more by Grim’s whines, you roll your eyes playfully. “There’s another one too, where we celebrate those who are…” You summarize the best you can. Smiling sadly, “it’s paying tribute to those we miss. To keep them remembered.”

You go on to another holiday, something along the lines of a rabbit and marshmallow birds…

Skully remains quiet, intaking all the knowledge you gave to him. The memories held within your mind, wishing to be shared. Just as precious as Halloween was to him.

Resolved settled within him as they walked further down the path to Jack’s house.

-

After the fiasco with Skully and the Oogie-Boogie squad, Jack had awoken from his slumber while Skully apologized. 

Halloween was back on!

Music played all around town, joining in on the merriment without a care.

Dancing with everyone, you twirl around with different dance partners. Grim, the fluffy beast, tried his best with taking lead with the waltz.

Settling down, you find one of the stray flowers beside you. Plucking it without much thought, pinching at the petals as you stop at a familiar voice.

Tossing the flower away, you readily take Skully’s hand. 

-

Flowers in hand, you walk back to Ramshackle. The graves greeting you as the wind slowly becomes small wisps. A book held tightly in hand, purchased immediately before everyone left Foothill Town. A melody humming on your lips, adorn in a familiar costume you commissioned Vil and Crewel for earlier. Vil even looked… Pleased at the flimsy sketch, seeing the vision easily. As it reminded him of something lost to him. Yuu and Grim follow a few steps away.

Grim held a can of tuna while Yuu carried a  small basket of candies. 

Ramshackle, alight with decorations of purple and green tinsel, along with Diasomnia’s own decor. 

Kneeling by a few unnamed graves, the three of you place the items down. Heading back inside for the rest of the Halloween party.

The ghosts greet you three excitedly, as your guests a few doormates chatter and relax. 

Letting your frown fade, you smile, hands craving over the edges of the portrait that laid above the unlit fireplace. The mantle covered in small decorations of colored skulls, candles and candies. The familiar pumpkin-colored eyes roaming down from above you and your guests.

-

[YALL IM SO PISSED THAT SKULL IS WRITTEN OFF! Im HOPPING TWST decides to put him in the game and give him a card.I’LL SAVE UP FOR IT! HANDS DOWN. I’ll probably be trying to cope a bit with small one-shot drabbles based around him. YALL I CANT!!! If anyone got my references at all let me know, Im so… AUGHHHHHHH! Anyway, thanks for reading!]

[viridescentelf]

A Festive Kiss - SDV Elliott x Reader

hi guys! happy holidays :)

i always wanted a stardew valley winter event mod where you can pick a bachelor who will save the winter star play. based on your choice, other bachelors will also randomly have to fill in two additional roles lol

it would be so cool to see different versions of the play based on who you pick haha. in my head it sounds like a fun idea, might be a nightmare to mod idk i've never done something like that before.

anyway lol i wanted to write a festive Elliott x Reader fluff piece! enjoy <3

Summary: The Stardew Valley Winter Star Play is tomorrow and poor Gus, who normally plays Santa Claus, is sick with the flu. Your job is to find someone to reprise the role for the saloon owner. You pick Elliott, your secret crush.

Word Count: 3k

-----

Gus coughed so loud that it rang in your ears. Lewis couldn’t help but twitch every time the poor saloon owner had one of his fits, while Harvey calmly measured his temperature. You stood by the door, having entered to buy some recipes from your friend, only to find him bedridden.  

“Yup, this looks like the flu. Gus, you need lots of fluids and rest. I’ll bring you some cough sirup and medicine.”

“B-But-“ Gus coughed again while he attempted to contest, sitting up slightly and holding a wet handkerchief to his mouth.

“No buts. You have a high fever,” Harvey interrupted as he pushed his patient gently back into his pillow. “I’m sorry, Gus, but you won’t be able to do anything other than sleep for a while.”

Lewis approached the bed and sighed sympathetically: “Don’t worry about the play, Gus. We’ll figure it out! You take care now and get lots of rest.”

Gus grumbled into his handkerchief. He spied you in the doorway and waved defeatedly.

You waved back and furrowed your brows sympathetically. He looked terrible, poor guy. You would brew some tea for him from Caroline’s saplings once you returned to your farm.

Lewis finally took notice of you, while Harvey packed up his bag and simultaneously gave Gus some recovery advice. The mayor walked up to you, somewhat forcing you to step out of Gus’ room a bit.

“Ah YN, good morning. Seems we’ve got a flu epidemic. Clint and Demetrius are both sick in bed as well.”

You heard Harvey call out from Gus’ room: “This is why I keep reminding you all every year to get your flu shot!”

Lewis rolled his eyes, out of Harvey’s line of sight. You grinned slightly. The seasonal Doctor Harvey post on the notice board was usually ignored and mocked by most villagers.

The mayor indicated that he wanted to speak to you a bit further away from the door way. You followed him.

“Listen YN. As you know, the Winter Star Play is tomorrow. I would hate to cancel it, the children have been so excited. Although no one can play Santa Claus as effectively as Gus, I think we need to find a replacement.”

You tilted your head slightly, looking at Lewis’ quaffed mustache: “What about yo-?”

Lewis held his hands up, protesting the idea immediately: “No, no, that’s not possible. I’m already the narrator. It’s a huge role with way too many lines. Giving it to someone else so last minute would be cruel!”

You thought about just giving the person the story book from which the play originated from, because those were most of Lewis’ lines anyway. But he seemed very set on his role. Perhaps it meant a lot to him, just like the Santa role meant a lot to Gus.

“Alright, who already has a role? Who could we ask?”, you crossed your arms and waited for Lewis to respond while he thought.

“Hm, Willy’s already the shepherd guiding the visitors to the summit. Kent and Pam already took months to convince to just play some of the visitors. Clint and Demetrius were supposed to be a shadow person and the wizard respectively, I wonder if we can also find substitutes for those roles…”

You pictured Demetrius wearing that shabby wizard’s hat, while Clint would be draped in a black bedsheet. Would Krobus or the real wizard approve of that? You took a mental note to visit your friend in the sewers today.

“I think our only options are the younger people in the village. Sam, Abigail and Sebastian are supposed to do the music, but I’m sure they’d survive without one of them. Elliott, Shane, Harvey and Alex don’t have roles.”

You thought of Linus. He also didn’t have a role. It was sad to see that Lewis didn’t even think of him.

“YN, can you decide for me? I don’t know who would really do Gus’s Santa Claus justice. You know them all better than me. Please?”

Internally, you were screaming. You had so many other things to do on your farm, your actual job. In addition to preparing everything for the play, you had been doing your farm chores until the late evening, collapsing in bed.

“I know you’re already making the mulled wine and spiced punch for the feast. And you helped Marnie prepare the animals for the play. And you helped Leah and Robin gather the wood for the set pieces and stage. And you helped Emily and Haley make the costumes with the wool from your farm…”

And you foraged for 100 pine cones and collected 50 gems from the mines for the Winter Star display.

“But think of the children! We can’t have a play without Santa Claus! Please, YN.”

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh. Gus coughed in the background and you felt sad he couldn’t play the role he loved so dearly. You remembered how much Vincent and Jas lit up during the play. Penny worked really hard all year round to prepare art for the background.

“Fine. I’ll figure something out.”

Lewis smiled from ear to ear, patting your shoulder triumphantly: “I knew I could count on you! I’ll try to find someone to reprise the dwarf and the wizard in the meantime. Thank you, YN!”

Lewis thrust the Santa Claus outfit and fake beard into your hands. You had no idea where he had been hiding it this whole time. With that, he walked down the stairs to leave the saloon.

You only had the rest of the day to convince some unknowing villager to play a jolly mythical creature with important dialogue in a play that meant the world to the children in Stardew Valley. Easy, right?

And you still had to do your chores. And hope the wine and punch were ready.

-----

You wandered up to the mountain to forage some winter herbs for the punch. The chill air kissed your nape, making you pull your hat down a bit further. The soft thuds of your boots in the snow accompanied you on your way, as your mind raced on who you dared ask to replace Gus last minute.

Bending down to snap some rosemary twigs off their stems, you mumbled a few curses at Lewis.

“Hello YN.”

You recognized Linus’s voice and looked up at the hermit, who smiled down at you. He was carrying his trusty basket full of winter berries and pine leaf twigs.

“Hey Linus!” You returned a warm smile, as he crouched down next to you to pluck some rosemary off as well. “How are you doing?”

“Can’t complain. My tent’s nice and warm. Marnie kindly gave me a little space heater. Going fishing later, feel free to join. Lingcods are going crazy up by the pond.”

You watched him put the rosemary on top of his other forages.

“I wish I had time, Linus. I have a bit of a tight schedule today. Gus is sick and Lewis asked me to find a replacement Santa.”

“Oh, for the play? Gee, that sounds like a task.” Linus remained crouched beside you, while he observed the other bushes in the vicinity for herbs.

The hermit seemed to be avoiding eye contact with you. You stared at him anyway.

“Don’t you dare ask.”

“But you’re perfect! You at least have a real beard!”

Linus chuckled and finally met your gaze: “It’s sweet of you to want to include me. But I prefer to stay in the background and observe. It’s only recent that the villagers accept me more now, thanks to you. Sorry, sport.”

He smiled warmly, while straightening up. You kind of knew he would refuse, but you wanted to ask anyway. He was your friend after all.

“I’ll see you at the play then, right?”, you rearranged your crouching position to look up at him better.

“Yup, see you there. Good luck on your Santa mission.” He waved, making his leaf poncho rattle a bit, as he walked further up the mountain.

You stood up and headed in the opposite direction, as you stuffed the herbs into your backpack. You knew asking Sebastian wouldn’t lead anywhere, you two only became friends recently. He wasn’t too keen on being the center of attention to begin with. Plus, you felt both Seb and Sam were too young.

Shane just barely tolerated you now. You didn’t want to risk that budding comradery, although… he would probably do it for Jas.

Alex would probably do it, but would he do a good job? He would probably adlib everything, refusing to learn the lines.

Harvey. Hm. You didn’t really know him too well. Maybe he’d be up for it? He did have a very sweet nature about him.

You stopped walking, as the image of a handsome writer flashed in your mind. Someone with a knack for words and a deep appreciation for the arts and theater.

Elliott.

You felt your face burn and your stomach curl up into a ball. You already had a massive crush on him. You weren’t sure if you could risk it, although a part of you felt it would be a great choice. Would he be angry if you asked him? Would he see it as beneath him?

But Elliott had told you he was in a theater group in school, so he was probably used to learning lines fast and possibly even substituting other roles.

Your legs started walking on their own. If anything, it was another reason to see him. You had a pomegranate in your bag anyway.

-----

You found yourself in front of the writer’s cabin before you knew it. The lights were on and you heard some scuffing on wood. He was definitely home. It took you a bit to muster the courage up to knock, even though you had done it countless times before.

The closer you grew to him, the more nervous you became.

Your hand moved on autopilot, before your brain had time to process.

You knocked three times.

The scuffing grew more frantic. You could hear him gather something and run across the room, while shouting “Just a minute!” at the door.

Your stomach was doing summer saults. Was this a bad time?

The door opened suddenly and you were met with a handsome and fabulous smile. His hair was tied together for once, sleeves up to his elbows. A more casual version of the put together author your heart yearned after.  

“YN! I was just thinking about you!”

Your knees wavered slightly. He was thinking about you.

“Hey Elliott I-“

He opened the door a bit further, indicating that he wanted you to come inside. You halted your prepared speech that you had been crafting on your way down to the beach. Stepping over the landing, you were met with a lovely warmth and the subtle scent of sandalwood. His cabin was relatively clean today, except a few lone flower petals and individual stems sprawled haphazardly on the floor.

Elliott stepped in front of you, blocking your view of the littered area. You saw his foot sneakily scrape the plants into the cracks.

“Would you like some coffee? I was just about to make some.”

“Sure, thanks.”

He invited you to take a seat on his made bed. You obliged after gifting him the pomegranate you had been carrying, which he took with delight etched across his face.

As Elliott busied himself at the coffee maker, you two exchanged some minor pleasantries. He spoke about his newest chapter development, while you talked about your favorite chicken, Phil, who had managed to get a bucket stuck on his head this morning. You felt your nerves calm down. You were only really anxious when you were about to see him. You felt extremely comfortable in his presence and every fear faded into the distance. It was nice to have someone in the valley who genuinely took an interest in your day-to-day life, just like you took with his. He meant a great deal to you, because of that fact.

The writer handed you a mug of fresh coffee, as he sat down on his chair across from you. You both took a sip at the same time, enjoying the rich flavor together. It was delicious.

“You really know your coffee, Elliott. It’s amazing, as always.”

His face lit up even more, as he thanked you for the compliment.

“Listen Elliott. Gus has the flu...”

“Oh no! Poor Gus. That’s terrible news. I heard Clint was sick too. There must be a virus in the valley.”

“Yeah, Demetrius is out as well.”

“How tragic. Especially with Gus. He always plays Santa Claus. He really looks forward to it all year. What a shame…is Lewis restructuring the play? Oh no, don’t tell me he asked you to play the role! After everything you’ve done for the show?!”

“Well, no. Not exactly…” You took the opportunity to take the Santa costume out of your backpack.

Elliott’s brows furrowed, in confusion.

“I was hoping…well…you can say no. I don’t want to force you to do this. I can ask someone else! I just thought… with your theater background… and, uh… This is too much to ask last minute, I know! It’s just- I don’t know who else could pull it off. Look this play-”

“Of course I’ll do it.”

His immediate readiness took you by surprise. You gaped at him, while he returned a determined gaze.

“What. Just like that? I had a whole speech prepared.”

He chuckled, taking the red and white costume from you without hesitation. He stood up, letting it drape down in front of him. It was a bit large for him. He started mumbling to himself. You distinctly made out ask Marnie for some hay for the belly.

You stood up, still holding the fake beard.

“Elliott, you really don’t have to do this. I remember from last year, it’s a lot to memorize on such short notice.”

“Oh, that’s no problem. I memorized Richard the Third’s entire first soliloquy in two hours back in High School.”

Your face turned into a tomato, as Elliott started unbuttoning his shirt in front of you. He swung the coat on, leaving it half-open as he took the beard from you as well. It took you some time to form a coherent sentence as you watched him pose in front of the mirror, comically mismatched with his red hair and a fake white beard strapped to his chin. The coat remained open, his body reflecting the sunlight.

“W- what are you doing?”

“I have to get into character, YN. Playing a jovial, older and mythical fellow needs preparation time. Could you fetch the lines for me? And could you help me practice?”

Your too fast “Yes!” shot out of your mouth, as your eyes tried to stare at the reflection of his face and not his abs. You lingered a bit and you spotted Elliott grinning under the beard, watching you. You shook your heard to clear your mind.

“Thank you, Elliott! I won’t forget this! I’ll go get your lines from Gus!”

You stormed out of his cabin, wanting to return to him as fast as possible.

-----

The play was about to start in the town square on the stage that Robin had diligently crafted. You stood with Marnie behind the curtains, feeding the cow and sheep to keep them calm. Lewis had forced Alex and Harvey to play the wizard and the shadow person, who were both grumbling annoyed in their makeshift costumes.

Elliott was in his full attire and had been diligently repeating his lines in low mumbles. You tried not to stare at him and constricted your laugh, because the comically stuffed costume crunched as he walked. The hey had definitely rounded him out.

Peaking through the curtain, Vincent and Jas were both bouncing excitedly on their benches. Shane was sitting next to his Goddaughter, listening to her joyful exclamations with a warm smile on his lips. The rest of Valley had helped themselves to some food and snacks while they settled into their seats. Linus was talking with Robin. Penny, Maru, Haley and Emily sat together snugly, to keep each other warm in the wintery air. George sat with Evelyn, listening genuinely to her boast about the beautiful chrysanthemums she prepared for the stage decorations and bouquets. It warmed your heart to see everyone happy together. It truly was a shame that Gus, Clint and Demetrius had to stay home and rest. You decided you would bring all of them something after the play.

The band tuned their instruments and you waved at an obviously nervous Sebastion, who smiled sweetly while practicing a section on his keyboard. Sam waved too while Abigail looked over her notes.

Marnie and Lewis had disappeared somewhere, so it was just you alone with the animals. You knelt down to pet the sheep.

You heard a crunching mass approach you from behind. Someone tapped your shoulder gently.

You turned and saw Santa Claus with Elliott’s kind eyes. He was hiding something behind his back.

With his other hand, he pulled the fake beard down and grinned at you.

“Hey Santa”, you teased.

The writer laughed, making the hey in his belly shake a bit.

“I have something for you. I wanted to give it to dressed as myself and not… well… this, but now that we’re alone…”

He was fiddling with something behind his back.

Funny. You also wanted to give him a gift tonight. It was lying behind the animals, concealed away so they wouldn’t accidentally eat it.

“Wait! I have something too!” You shoved yourself behind Marnie’s cow, and took something out of a box. The stems were still wet.

You hid it behind your back as well. Standing across from each other, you were both unsure how to start.  

It seemed he was gathering courage. With his other hand, he removed the red and white hat from his head. Now his head was fully Elliott, just everything below his neck was seasonally jolly.

He was blushing. You felt your heart run a marathon.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You had been wanting to give this to him for a while. Even if it wasn't what he wanted with you, you needed to know. Right now.

With one fluid motion, you produced the beautiful poinsettia and chrysanthemum bouquet you had bought from Pierre’s this morning. The blooms sparkled in the stage light and you saw Elliott’s eyes twinkle with surprise.

He stared at it for a moment, then laughed.

Bowing slightly, he revealed the same bouquet from behind his back.

Sweet relief flooded your senses. You joined in on the laughter.

“It seems we both had the same idea” he jested. Walking towards you slightly, the belly was in the way of a hug he wanted to give you. He awkwardly tried to maneuver his way around it, but couldn’t find the proper angle.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.

“Here, let me help.”

Getting on your tiptoes, you leaned slightly over the belly. The costumed writer placed a mitted hand on your cheek. Elliott stared into your eyes for a brief moment, then pulled your face towards him and pressed his lips into yours.

It was everything you imagined it would be. Firm and intense, but gentle at the same time. Time seemed to slow as you both sunk into each other. The butterflies seemed to be dancing inside you.

The lights flickered, indicating that the play would start soon. The chatter outside quieted down and Lewis had already walked on stage.

Releasing from him at the changing environment, Elliott looked down at you, longingly.

“Not how I imagined our first kiss”, he laughed again. “But it was even better for it.”

You couldn’t stop smiling. This was the best Winter Star Gift you could’ve asked for.

"It sure was festive", you grinned.

“That's a way to describe it.” he chuckled and put the hat back on his head, with his other hand readjusting the scratchy beard onto his face, his eyes not leaving yours. "Let’s do that again after the play, hm?"

You nodded excitedly: “Count me in, Mr. Claus!”

Elliott laughed, and the stringy hairs around his mouth danced in his breath: “Showtime!”

[yuri-is-online]

hi, i'm not the same anon but i would like to hear more about the fyuuture kid au 👉👈 especially about riddle!!

hello new friend, you picked someone who is having a real bad time in this au (ﾟωﾟ；)

I am going to give some general information about Yutu and then move on to some Riddle specific stuff.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, general au explanation can be found here, and the posts can be found on my masterlist under the series section.

General Yutu Facts

"Yutu" is supposed to be a fake name fyuuture kid is using to help hide his identity, but I am open to suggestions on that. Originally he didn't remember his name and Crowley picked it out for him, but I like the idea of "Yuu two" being a nickname he had in both your world and Twisted Wonderland and picked as his alias to honor his parent. Yutu really admires Yuu, he has nothing but empathy for your situation and respect for your strength, and while he certainly fought with you from time to time (some Yutus more than others) he wants to be like you.

That desire was very much cemented when he heard about how you won against the overblot phantoms. Yutu's unique magic changes depending on who his dad is, but all Yutus have extensive experience in combat magic and have fought a lot of monsters. Including overblot phantoms, same as you. His fights didn't go as well though... he's extremely afraid of the Great Seven's phantoms and has regular nightmares about them.

Back to the names... I didn't have names picked out for every version of Yutu, but Riddle does happen to have been one of them. His real name was supposed to be March, yes like the march hare but if I'm honest I was more thinking about the saying "in like a lion out a lamb" because I thought that described Riddle's temper pretty well.

The other ones I picked out I still like are Merrin (I swear I found it on a list of mountain themed names??? But it means sea born or pearl of the sea), Laurie (yes like little women, his unique magic was supposed to something to do with painting), and Roland (I have an unironic love for French peerage ok please do not judge me).

Some of the Yutus were meant to have older siblings who stayed behind in Twisted Wonderland (Riddle! Yutu wasn't one of them), but that was very much an idea I didn't develop extensively since it was more left over from Fire Emblem Awakening. I wanted there to be a Lucina type older sibling character who was very protective of Yutu and wanting a future where he gets to stay in Twisted Wonderland and they get to be a happy family. But again I didn't cook this idea extensively so idk how to feel about keeping it as a part of the ayuu.

Anyway on to the Riddle specific stuff ¬‿¬

So that bit about Yutu's real name coming from a description from Riddle's temper: I like to leave what Yutu looks like up to the reader, but Riddle! Yutu if nothing else took two things from his father, his (lack of) height and his temper. His facial expressions when pouting and angry are eerily similar, and they both have a strong affinity for fire. Riddle! Yutu is a lot like Riddle Tsum now that I think about it? Very high energy and likes to jump around all over the place, but determined to be at least somewhat dignified.

Since traveling back in time Yutu has been "studying" with Grim to try and get his flames hot enough to burn blue to flex on his dad and to bond with the monster. He usually just ends up watching him though, the mental image he had of Grim vs what the little guy is actually like is really wild.

Back to the temper, unlike Riddle Yutu wasn't home schooled so he got into a lot of trouble for losing it on other students. He had a chip on his shoulder about not having a dad, having a parent with amnesia, and especially about being short oh god he is so spiteful about that. He got sent to detention a lot, and shamefully it made him fight with Yuu a lot too. Not that he hates Yuu, he was just very emotional and not always the easiest to deal with. His last few interactions with Yuu before they died were very strained, and he is filled with remorse for a bunch of stupid things he said.

When he gets to the point where he has to admit to Yuu who he is there is going to be a lot of crying and begging for forgiveness. He was a stupid, angry kid who just wanted to know who he was and didn't feel like he belonged lashing out at the one person who he knew wanting nothing but the best for him. He doesn't really feel the need to ask for forgiveness from his dad (yet)... by the time Yutu was isekaid into Twisted Wonderland Riddle had been corrupted by his overblot phantom and was wrecking the Queendom of Roses so he never really met the real Riddle until he traveled back in time.

He also got compared to Riddle a lot, Yutu isn't stupid by any means but because of all that time spent in detention he is a bit behind on the fundamentals. Not to mention all Riddle has done up to this point is practice magic and Yutu only just found out it was real so of course there was going to be a skill gap! But still, he's Riddle's son and Riddle was a very memorable student for Crewel, so Yutu was guaranteed to hear some comparisons. It didn't help the daddy issues though...

Speaking of Yutu's time at NRC, he did get placed into Heartslabyul by the Dark Mirror and he does know all 810 rules of the Queen's rules. He's not as obsessed with them as Riddle is but he still knows what he's supposed to do and tries to be on his best behavior. He was not interested in being dorm leader and wanted to instead focus on the things Yuu always encouraged him to do, like controlling his temper and getting good grades.

I sort of like the idea of his unique magic being the ability to grow/shrink because in the book Rule 42 of the Queen of Hearts says “All persons more than a mile high to leave the court" and I like the idea of him trying to use his spell to get out of arguments with his dad.

Riddle has no idea that Yutu hates him... at first. This is partially because Yutu is usually very polite to him and partially because he is utterly unaware of how much people are afraid of him in general, but he starts to pick up on it when he tries to interact with Yuu. He wants to have a private tea party with just Yuu? Well Yutu immediately starts acting like this is somehow scandalous and calls him out on his feelings in front of the prefect and he wants to lose it so badly- Yuu agrees anyway and Riddle immediately gets unreasonably smug while Yutu pouts. Take that sucker! He's going to study with the prefect all alone and since it's Riddle you know you really are just going to study.

I don't think Riddle really considers Yutu a rival for Yuu's romantic attention, partially because he isn't fully aware of what it is he feels for Yuu, but even if he was. Riddle knows that Yuu sees Yutu as someone under their care similar to Grim, they actually talk to him about it quite a bit and he has no issue with that. He is actually sort of grateful for Yutu's existence since it has given him an excuse to talk to Yuu more and let them know how he respects them.

Yutu's academic struggles are something that actually bring him closer to Riddle ironically enough. Riddle has created study guides for Yuu and Grim before, he has no problem doing that for Yutu and inviting himself over to give instructions.

"Did you not get a lot of help from your parents?" Riddle sounds nervous, and he should it's an invasive question to ask. Yutu wants to be angry, but when he looks at Riddle, he just feels sad. "Not that it is any of my business really but well. I just noticed you never really talk about them, even to Yuu."

"My dad wasn't really around." He forces himself to look at Riddle when he says it, but it doesn't make him feel any better. If anything it makes Yutu feel worse, he knows about as much about Riddle as Riddle knows about him now that he's forced to look at him. "And my other parent... they tried really hard. But I wasn't always willing to accept it."

"I can't say I understand what that would be like." Riddle looks like he is trying to and that should be what he wants, right? "My mother home schooled me so it's hard for me to understand that someone's parents wouldn't be a constant figure in their schooling."

"You were home schooled?"

Yutu didn't know anything about his grandmother, it didn't even really occur to him that he had one and once he learns about her... well it certainly makes things make a lot more sense. He doesn't want to meet her, but he is curious about what she thought about his parent. What would she think about him? Does he even want to know?

My last concrete thought is that Yutu doesn't really get the whole horse girl thing. He is sort of afraid of horses actually, but I can see him maybe wanting to ride with Riddle once their relationship gets a bit better just to do something with him.

I like the idea of Riddle! Yutu being very into baseball for some reason and there's no way he's going to convince his dad to do that with him ha. Well not in this timeline anyway, I can see good timeline Riddle doing a bunch of research on baseball so he can talk to his kid about it. And showing up to all his matches to scream in support of his kid instead of at the coaches. He is breaking the cycle we love to see it.