#Yeah they’re going to cause a lot of trouble

[euthymiya]

camera roll — ft. ryomen sukuna

sukuna doesn’t appreciate how often his annoying little nephew comes over and takes up your time—until you share a few pictures of you and him to little yuuji. maybe the runt’s starting to grow on him

before you read: fem reader ; non curse au/modern au ; established relationship ; uncle sukuna and nephew yuuji ; mentions of itadori jin and kaori ; mentions of reader wearing heels and being carried by sukuna ; sukuna being a terrible influence to children (and being a softie on the low)

Sukuna doesn’t like children. They’re little troublemakers. They’re nuisances. They take up space and cause chaos. They whine. They cry and kick and scream. They don’t pay bills and eat away at your wallet. They’re clingy and talk a lot. They don’t have jobs and never contribute to the economy. The list goes on.

(You like to point out this mindset is just a byproduct of his upbringing, and that he should heal. He thinks that’s a load of bullshit. He grew up just fine. He doesn’t need to heal from anything—he’s just right. Kids are weird and unsettling).

Yuuji is no exception. The kid is an irritating spawn of his brother—they even have the same smile. Too happy, too nice, too talkative, and too bubbly. So what if Yuuji is his nephew? He doesn’t have to enjoy the runt’s company just because he’s family. (You like to really put emphasis on the family part).

And you’re persistent. You invite the little runt over every chance you get. You always agree to babysitting so his brother can have his date nights and spend quality time with that equally as annoying wife of his. (It’s Jin’s fault for not thinking things through. If he just kept it in his pants, he could easily find time to have dates and spend time with his lousy wife, but no. He decided to knock up the woman and make it Sukuna’s problem too).

It’s an eyesore to say the least to walk into his living room and see a small, useless child curled up in your lap, taking his place where he should be resting his head, and giggling to yourselves.

Irritating. Nauseating. So outright infuriating.

Sukuna hates kids.

“And that’s uncle ‘Kuna and me at the beach,” you grin, “see that castle? He helped me build it. Don’t tell him I told you that, though or he’ll eat me.”

“Woah,” Yuuji gasps, staring in awe at the photo in your phone. Sukuna’s eye twitches. You promised not to tell anyone he helped you build that stupid sand castle. He just wanted you to be quiet when you kept whining for his help. “Uncle ‘Kuna’s got big muscles!”

“Yeah, he does,” you nod, grinning. You swipe through a few more photos before stopping at another one. Yuuji’s eyes bulge even wider. “See? That’s him at the gym. Sometimes I go and watch him. Doesn’t he look so strong?”

“Uh huh,” the kid nods furiously. “He’s so cool,” he adds, voice laced in admiration.

Well, at least the runt has a brain. He definitely didn’t get it from his father, but it’s there. That’s a start.

“And that’s us on our first anniversary. See how sweet your uncle is? He’s carrying me to the car because my feet were hurting.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes. He told you those shoes would hurt your feet, and then your whining would make it his problem. Evidently everyone he surrounds himself with likes to make things his issue to deal with. And he was right—you did end up whining about those damn heels. (They did make your legs look good, he’ll admit that much. But still, you didn’t need to go through the trouble of wearing them only to bugging him with your complaining. He finds your legs hot regardless of what shoes you wear).

“Uncle ‘Kuna’s so nice,” Yuuji nods, giggling before he looks up at you, poking a chubby finger into your cheek and says, “so pretty!”

“Aw Yuuji,” you grin, “aren’t you the sweetest little man?”

You lean in and press an attack of kisses to the brat’s cheeks. Sukuna crosses his arms and glares at the way the runt laughs in glee at your affection. Who does he think he is, feeling your lips on his skin?

Once you settle down, you pull him flush against your chest again, back pressed to you as an arm wraps around his tiny frame, holding him close.

“Look, this is when we went on our first vacation! See how your uncle likes to sleep on my chest? He says he hates cuddling but he’s a liar.”

“Lies are bad!” Yuuji gasps, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod seriously, “super bad. You’ll always tell the truth right Yuuji? Don’t be like your mean uncle, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, nodding like he means it.

If it was up to him, Sukuna would grab the kid off your lap and set him out on the streets to find his own way home. How dare the brat sit on his couch with his girlfriend and act holier than him?

And it’s not a lie. Sukuna thinks cuddling is stupid. Using your chest is a pillow isn’t cuddling, it’s getting comfortable. You’re the liar.

“And see this one? That’s us having a picnic. You know your uncle ‘Kuna surprised me with that? He can be really sweet, y’know. He just likes to pretend he’s all tough.”

Yuuji giggles again—and then his eyes land on Sukuna at the entrance of the living room, brightening at the sight of him.

Great. He’s been spotted. Just want Sukuna needed after a long day of work. More annoying people.

“It’s uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points his pudgy little finger at him before waving a tiny hand. “You’re back!”

“And you’re still here,” Sukuna’s eyes narrow, “why?”

“That’s no way to greet your nephew, Sukuna,” you scold, earning an eye roll from your boyfriend.

He trudges over, (carefully) pushing Yuuji to scoot over on your lap so he can lay his head where it rightfully belongs on your legs and settle on the couch. He sighs and closes his eyes as your fingers gently weave through his hair.

“Had a long day at work, I don’t need this brat still taking up my space. Tell ‘im to pay bills if he wants to stay so bad.”

“Oh c’mon, he’s been waiting for you all day,” you grin, “haven’t you Yuuji?”

“Uh huh!” The runt nods, leaning down to hover over Sukuna’s face. He opens an eye, peering up at the kid as Yuuji pokes a finger at his cheek. “Wanna play?”

“No,” he grumbles, pretending to bite at the finger.

Yuuji shrieks, pulling it away quickly and earning a low chuckle from Sukuna while you glare.

“Hey!” You scold, “you be nice to—”

“Again! Again!” Yuuji laughs brightly, holding a finger to hover over Sukuna’s lips. You blink and so does he, staring at the child before Sukuna’s lips curl into a small, smug grin.

“If you say so, ya runt.”

He snaps at the tiny finger Yuuji holds over his lips again, this time getting in a (gentle) nibble that makes the child squeal and laugh brightly.

“Uncle ‘Kuna’s gonna eat me,” he laughs.

“S’right, I’ll eat ya like you’re dinner. So quit comin’ over, you wretched brat.”

Yuuji, as innocent and hopeful as a little child is supposed to be, takes Sukuna’s smirk as a sign his uncle is happy to play. So he crawls off your lap, plopping himself to sit on Sukuna’s chest and smile happily down at him while you coo at the sight.

“Oh my gosh, he’s too cute! Sukuna don’t even think about moving—I’m getting a picture. Jin will love it!”

“Don’t take a fuckin’ pic—”

“Do not curse in front of a child!” You follow your scolding with a smack at his head, making him grunt angrily.

“I swear if you get a damn photo of—”

Click.

The sound of your phone’s camera going off cuts him off, silencing him with a wicked glare he sends up at you from your lap. It’s not so menacing when you take in the fact that his hand has securely planted itself at the base of Yuuji’s back, keeping him from falling over.

Sukuna hates children—he reminds you of this fact constantly. He has a soft spot for his little nephew, though. You don’t point it out so he can keep his facade up for his sense of dignity, but you know the facts.

Yuuji’s favorite snacks are stocked up in the cabinets for his arrival today—and you certainly haven’t had a chance to grocery shop this week. A small, tiny little inkling tells you that your boyfriend is developing something of a soft spot for his nephew.

“Look Yuuji,” you grin at the small child, ruffling his hair as you turn your phone to face him, “it’s you and uncle ‘Kuna! Your very own picture together! Isn’t that nice?”

“Yay!” He claps, eyes crinkling excitedly as he smiles happily at the picture.

Sukuna’s eyes soften just a bit before he’s back to frowning, a grumpy crease of his forehead as he huffs.

“I’m sick of this darn brat.”

————— bonus —————

“Fuck!” Yuuji says as he drops his sippy cup.

Sukuna freezes, eyes quickly darting over to you from the sink where he’s washing the dishes. You stop, stilling where you’re clearing the table. Your hand pauses mid air from its path to pick up glass, head slowly turning to look over at the child.

“Yuuji,” you say slowly, “where did you learn that word?”

He better not—Sukuna stares holes into the kid’s head. The runt better not rat him out or he really will eat him. Maybe even do worse. He’d better keep his annoying little mouth shut before—

“Uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points to Sukuna, as if he wants the man to die.

Your eyes instantly glare over at him. Sukuna tenses, clenching his jaw as he shoots a dirty look at his nephew.

“You damn snitch! They ought to teach you about tattling at that fancy day care of yours—”

“Quit yelling at him for your doing! Just you wait till he’s home,” you glower, “I’ll deal with you later.”

Sukuna scowls, returning to washing the dishes with a sulky frown on his face as you bend down and gather Yuuji into your arms.

“Is that awful man being a bad influence on you?” You coo, “he is, isn’t he? Don’t worry, I’ll teach that terrible uncle of yours a lesson, okay? But don’t use that word, Yuuji. Only non self respecting people use that language.”

Yuuji doesn’t even understand what that means, he wants to say. He holds his tongue, though, just to save himself from even a little of your wrath—but the runt is never welcome back to his home again, Sukuna thinks, grumbling to himself under his breath as you offer Yuuji the last of his ice cream.

High key I don’t know how to write children so Yuuji’s parts might be cringe but just look away OKAY

[floralstorms]

tehe I have. An au. For The Characters

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU 3

Masterpost

So this one is a bit longer, but that's because part of it is the same phone conversation from the other side.

~~~~~

“Road trip!” Dick calls out. All of the- siblings(?)-younger people start to scramble before Bruce calls out for them to stop.

“This is going to be a 12 hour drive one-way, which means we won't be back until dinner tomorrow at the earliest. Not all of you can go.” This causes a lot of frowns and Danny holds in a chuckle. They start arguing over why they should be able to go and Bruce pinches his nose, right between his eyes as they shout at him.

“First and Foremost, I do believe that Masters Duke, Damian, and Stephanie have school tomorrow.” Alfred inserts. Everyone quiets to listen to him, Danny notes. Everyone else they’ll talk over, he must be important, be extra nice to him.

The three must sigh and sit back down at the table. 

“Cass, if you wouldn’t mind staying to keep them out of trouble overnight. I’m sure Alfred will see them out to school.”

Cass shrugs, then signs at Dick who responds “Of course!” Danny hadn’t realized that she was speaking sign language this whole time.

Bruce then turns to face Dick and Tim. “You have absolutely no way to keep us from coming.” Dick sing-songs.

“You both have work tomorrow.”

“Actually, Dick and I called out ten minutes ago, family emergency.” Tim shrugs. “We won’t be in for a few days unless things change.”

“Alright, go grab your things.” They both whoop and you can just tell they were both about to start running when they catch eyes with Alfred and just start walking really fast. “Pack light, and grab some changes of clothes for Jason!”

Before they can leave a phone starts ringing. They all look around before all eyes settle back on Danny. He feels around his pockets for where the phone is, before pulling it out and seeing his own number on the caller ID.

“Oh, it’s me!” Danny hurries to pick up as he hears someone mutter “Why didn’t we think of that?” from the table. Dick and Tim are almost immediately right next to him as he mumble out a hello.

“Um, hello, Jason?”

“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?” His heart thumps when he hears his own voice coming out the other side of the phone. It somehow makes the whole situation seem a bit more real then it did before.

“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”

“Hey, we’re his family”

“We’re all his brothers and Cass is his sister.”

“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?” 

So much talking at once, Danny tries to focus on his own voice coming through the phone. It’s a little deeper than it usually is, gruffer and lilted like it’s trying to talk in an accent the mouth isn’t familiar with shaping. Danny supposes the voice he’s speaking with now must be doing the same.

“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason sighs loud enough to hear over the phone and Danny chuckles at the response. 

“Right, well your name is Danny right?”

“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?” They were all home the last he checked, and Jazz usually tells him before she heads out. 

“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”

“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Danny rubs a hand down his face just thinking of that - his homework- being his soulmate's first real impression of him. 

“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”

Danny shakes off the embarrassment “I think so?” 

“Of course we are!”,  “Was he not paying any attention as we decided who should go?”, “We were just planning.” There are so many people talking at once again.

 Danny pulls his face away from the phone and turns to the room at large “Stop it, buzz off!”. He turns to face a wall and takes a few steps away.  “They said yes.”

“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”

Danny hums, focused on something else. “Look, I do need to warn you…” what if he goes ghost, can he go ghost with Jason in his body? What are his parents working on today? “ about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”

“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?” Weird ice mist coming out of your mouth would be pretty unexplainable at the moment, but random things shooting at him can be avoided!

“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.” Almost everything in that lab is to be avoided, although since he is already in Danny’s body he shouldn’t be bothered by the potential radiation.

“Kid, what?” 

“This is really an in-person talk.”

Danny does not know how he would explain this over the phone, with a room of eavesdroppers behind him. Although they’ve become respectfully quiet, more whispers than anything now. 

“Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”

“Yep!” That would be best, Jazz will definitely help him. “Is there anything I should know?”

“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”

Danny laughs and puts the phone on speaker before calling out to the room, “You’re on speaker!” so everyone in the room knows as well as Jason. 

“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick has bounded back over to Danny, right up in the personal space. 

“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells from the table, where she continued eating at some point.

“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”

Danny starts laughing so hard he doesn’t register everyone else in the room having frozen at the outburst.

“Oh, wow, same.” Danny gets out once he can breathe again.

The room is staring at him again, but they seem to do that a lot.

“You must be Jazz.” They hear coming through the phone. “I’m Jason.”

“Jazz!” Danny calls out. 

“Danny would like to talk to you.” There’s a small shuffle. 

“Danny?”

“Hey, Jazz! So, apparently I’m the younger, so today’s the day. I’m with his family right now.”

“You have a plan? Are you coming home?”

“Yeah, just. Would you mind keeping an eye on Jason until I get there? It’s going to be a long drive so could you make sure nothing shoots him and that he gets edible food?”

“I’ll take him to Nasty for dinner, don’t worry.” Danny sighs in relief, he knew Jazz would help, but he did not need his soulmate food fighting with dinner.

“Sounds good, he’s in my body so he shouldn’t really be poisoned but Mom and Dad still can’t really cook. Speaking of which! He is in my body so if anything happens with the, um, medical condition, help him through that as well.”

“Of course, Danny.”

“Thanks Jazz! We were just deciding who was coming along, but apparently, it's about a 12-hour drive? So, you guys won’t see us until tomorrow.”  There’s a lot unspoken in this conversation, but Danny knows she’ll do her best. “Try not to interrogate him, and no psychoanalyzing!”

[formulawolff]

vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

prev. | next.

“it’s fine, mom. really.” 

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure. 

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake! 

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.” 

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo. 

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.” 

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will. 

“where is dad? is he asleep?” 

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan? 

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?” 

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers? 

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.” 

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel. 

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.” 

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks. 

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.” 

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you. 

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent. 

fuck, were you homesick. 

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time. 

you always did when it came to your parents. 

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion. 

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen. 

you had to make that happen. 

you had to. 

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top. 

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home. 

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home. 

this man was billionaire, after all. 

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text. 

from none other than toto wolff. 

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door. 

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter. 

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you. 

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival) 

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers. 

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race. 

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair.. 

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind. 

a crisp knock rang out, startling you. 

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting. 

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy. 

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull. 

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears. 

this was really happening. 

you were really staying with toto. 

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.” 

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness. 

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries. 

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual. 

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows. 

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up. 

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest. 

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?” 

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll. 

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?” 

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.  

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold. 

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay. 

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you. 

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there. 

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back. 

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind. 

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole. 

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress. 

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back. 

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you? 

downright filthy. sinful, even 

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on. 

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread. 

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him. 

god, you were absolutely breathtaking. 

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark. 

you were so fucking beautiful. 

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come. 

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck. 

could this moment last forever? 

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god. 

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure. 

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you. 

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words. 

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you. 

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through. 

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching. 

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia. 

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth. 

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two. 

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god. 

oh, fuck. 

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space. 

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure. 

you unravel, coming undone. 

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out. 

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple. 

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent. 

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks. 

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.” 

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring. 

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.” 

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot. 

well, not so little these days. 

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?” 

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat. 

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears. 

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision. 

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts. 

“i’m right, aren’t i?” 

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head. 

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?” 

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings? 

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper. 

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm. 

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?” 

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished. 

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision. 

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision. 

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season. 

you were finally going to be by his side every day. 

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel. 

he had you. 

you were all his now. 

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @joalslibrary @martwll @prettiest-at-the-party @pucksandpower @kravitzwhore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @annewithaneofthegreengable @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010 @whoisss @sinners-98-world

if i missed anyone, please let me know! also, you are more than welcome to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

[babiebom]

bachelors and their weird kinks/turn ons perhaps 👀

A/N: it took a LOT for me to find weird things that arent gross(literally shit or dead people sorry if you’re into these) and even then I don’t even think these are weird but there’s only so many sites that I can go on to find weird kinks or even kinks in general. Fun fact there’s a kink for watching people fall down the stairs!! Keep in mind I’m talking about these fetishes and kinks from my own memory from looking them up lmao.

Tw:nsfw like all of it, cursing etc let me know if I should tag anything else!!

Bc: at least 4 for each? One for what the kink is and one for the explanation?

Stardew Valley Masterlist

Sebastian

Dacryphilia the kink or fetish for watching or causing someone to cry(positive or negative). A kink for tears if you will

I don’t know if I’ve talked about this before (I might’ve?) but dude has a major crying kink. Like he needs to make you cry while having sex. In this instance it’s a good crying. Like from how good his dick feels inside you. How good it feels when he moves, when he touches you. It’s like overstimulation but the crying is the main thing he wants.

Somnophilia the kink or fetish for having sex with someone while they’re asleep.

AGAIN this is all consensual but he likes the way you look when you’re asleep. You’re fully content and relaxed, no troubles or worries. He just wants to make you feel even better to send you to a new level of paradise. And the way that you are free in your reactions instead of holding everything back. All of your sounds and the way you move…it just gets him off in a different way.

Sam

Katoptronophilia the kink or fetish for watching yourself or others have sex in a mirror

I think this kink more so has to do with his partner. I do think he would get off with watching you or him fucking you in a mirror. Like you both can see your own faces and it’s just hot how you can see how good he’s making you feel and the other way around. It’s like his recordings kink but in real time.

Claustrophilia the kink or fetish for tight spaces literally the opposite of claustrophobia

I think he would like the whole stuck in a small closet together thing or the whole (if you’ve seen kdramas bc this is the only time I’ve seen it) hiding from someone in a tight space and being forced to be close or touching.

Shane

Shibari the fetish or kink of Japanese bondage. It’s more artistic than regular bondage and can sometimes be nonsexual(meaning it can just be for the act of being tied/tying someone up)

I do think Shane might have a artistic side to him, he loves his blue chickens and even though he hasn’t particularly shown that he likes art I think he’d appreciate this form. Like yeah it has bdsm tones and he likes that, but he likes the time taken to tie you up, the time it takes to make the ropes look pretty on you. It gets the both of you riled up so the sex might be more passionate.

Electrostimulation the fetish or kink to being stimulated or stimulating someone with electricity

Oh dude is definitely a sadomasochist. He wants to shock you, he wants to be shocked (partially because he wants to feel something other than mental and emotional pain). It’s never so much that it hurts too much but it’s a little stinging sensation that he can’t get enough of.

Harvey

Quirofilia the kink or fetish for hands, but well taken care of/pretty hands

Oh I think Harvey HAS to take of his hands. As a doctor I think he would be happy if someone complemented how soft his hands were or how clean they looked. And on the other hand(heheheh) he would appreciate how nice your hands look, how soft they feel, how good they feel when touching him.

Breeding/Pregnancy the kink or fetish for pregnant people or getting someone pregnant. It has nothing to do with the child itself but the person carrying the child.

NGL I think once you two come to an agreement about pregnancy(in this case you agree to start trying for kids) Harvey is absolutely going to go batshit insane with this new development. Before he would’ve never said that this is something he’s into but once you two agree he’s so pumped up and actually starts talking dirty if he didn’t before. It’s crazy how different he is during this time.

Alex

Anasteemaphilia the kink or fetish for extreme size differences so either a giant or a dwarf(I hope this word isn’t offensive it’s what the website used)

Dude would NEVER reveal this but actually would love a giant girlfriend. I think because of the lowkey misogynistic views he has he would like a bigger woman and a smaller man. He would LOVE lady dimitrescu from resident evil. Like bffr.

Food Play the kink or fetish of involving food during intercourse so either eating it off each other or involving it in some way

Oh absolutely would love to eat food off of you and would want you to lick stuff off of him. Like whipped cream and chocolate syrup are MUSTS if you’re having a particularly long night. He thinks it’s so erotic to eat and consume stuff off of each other that don’t really have anything to do with sex.

Elliott

Psellismophilia the kink or fetish for stuttering

One of the weird ones I found. I think he would think it’s cute and if you do have a stutter or happen to stutter when you’re nervous he’s going to have such a confidence booster because of it. Like YES keep stumbling over your words and stuttering it actually is cute to him and he feels like he’s in a book or a movie or something.

Podophilia the kink or fetish for feet

I think this one is obvious? I think he’d prefer beautiful people and that includes feet. In a lot of erotic movies and books and even in romance books feet have some sort of importance to them. Whether it’s used to dominate someone or to pleasure someone he likes beautiful feet. He wants you to step on him(not in a rough way) and tbh I could see him wanting to recreate the scene in that one tarentino(is this his name) movie where he casts himself in the role that drinks I think alcohol from that woman’s food after it runs down her leg.

[lunarfleur]

Earth 42! Miles Morales Datings Hcs

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin

Warnings:Mentions of his job as the prowler

A/N: I’m literally in love with him help

This is x gender neutral reader!

This boy is not your sugar daddy. Be fr.

Does he have extra cash? Yeah.

But he’s not your sugar daddy. That is a child.

He’s honestly not that different from Earth 1610! Miles, he’s just been through a lot more shit

He’s still a dork, deep down.

But let’s get the inevitabilities out of the way

Spanish nicknames, for sure. I don’t speak Spanish, but it’d just be the ones everyone in the community thinks he would use 😭

As well as baby and babe.

This boy is a hugger in every universe

He would never openly say, “I need a hug.” But, he’d pull you in or bury his face in your neck

It gets the point across

I think for both versions of Miles, he keeps his room clean for you

His mom always gets on him for it, so it’s just habit to have his room clean

Picking up any and all dirty clothes, vacuuming, dusting, that kind of thing.

It’s typically clean anyways, but he makes sure it’s as clean as possible for you

Movie nights whenever he doesn’t get called into work. You’re tucked against him. One arm is around your shoulder, the other hand is rested comfortably on your thigh.

This boy loves loves loves forehead kisses, both giving and receiving

A lot of times he gives them as apologies

He couldn’t make a date, so he’s kissing your forehead after kissing your lips and apologizing so so genuinely

But you give him one? He’s dying.

You’re in his lap, and you just *mwah?*

He’s a goner

Let’s be honest, he’s young and in love. You make him excited.

Make out sessions are both common and enjoyable

He knows not to take too far, of course, but he can’t help but love on you

But make outs are never for public

He’s not ashamed of PDA, but he doesn’t think anyone else should see something so intimate.

But he’ll kiss you, hold your hand, leave his arm around your shoulders, and basically all the other toned down displays of affection

The only people that are afraid of him are the ones who have caused problems with him

He’s lived in New York all his life. A lot of kids know him. A lot of kids know that he just changed after he lost his dad

The ignorant ones start fights with him. The ignorant ones lose fights with him.

Because this boy can scrap

He’s not really some big, bad bully who runs his school or whatever

He sticks to being a loner, with the exception of you.

He still maintains good grades and behavior and all that

He doesn’t really get in trouble for fighting because he’s never the one who starts it

It’s self defense, you know?

There’s only 3 people in his life that he genuinely cares about: You, his mom, and his uncle.

Of course, he wants you to meet them

So he brings you home one day

And, luckily for you, they’re both easy to get along with

But he’s okay with not meeting your family

If you don’t want him to, he doesn’t have to

Fights with him go one of two ways, depending on the severity of the situation.

A:It’s a very serious, tense discussion. He doesn’t put any distance between you two, maybe holding your hand or keeping his knee touching yours. He speaks carefully and he listens to you.

This Miles doesn’t yell. Not at you, not at his mom, basically never.

B: You two give each other space. He makes sure you’re home safely, leaving you with a kiss on the forehead, before giving both of you time to calm down and think everything over.

And then once you two are ready, you talk things over and he apologizes. This leads to soft make outs and/or cuddles.

But we all know he’s The Prowler

He’s not a villain, necessarily. He doesn’t kill people for the fun of it. He kills people who deserve it. Criminals, people who have genuinely hurt others.

He didn’t wait too long to tell you, actually.

It was only a month or two.

He liked you, genuinely, and it shocked him to his core. He knew his job would put distance between you two. He didn’t want that. Miles wanted things with you to go right.

He told you cautiously, and made sure to explain what he did and why.

It made sense, it really did. And he made sure to keep you away from it all.

It was hard to handle at first, but eventually you came to terms with it.

He was honestly terrified that you’d be scared of him. He’s still a kid, remember.

Sometimes, he gets called in and can’t make a date.

But Miles hates it and makes damn good sure he makes it up to you

He keeps tabs of everything he’s missed

He’s a sweetheart, honestly.

He gives you things, like gifts and his clothes and full access to his room

And he’s always making sure you’re in the best of moods

You’re crying? He’s doing everything he can to fix it.

Miles isn’t a bad boyfriend, it just takes some time to understand him.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 5

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 5.9k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, drinking, sub!beomgyu, dom!reader, blowjob, edging, overstimulation, degradation, nipple play, cum eating, fingering (female receiving).

Haeun’s appearances increase along with the band’s gigs, inviting herself to all the afterparties and mingling with the new crowd Beomgyu curated.  

It's a cause of contest between you. You keep telling him that she's using him but he doesn’t care. He just wants her attention. Besides, every time you bring her up, he brings up Yeonjun and the whole thing just devolves into a fight, and so bit by bit you just learn to shut up and keep your distance–to protect yourself from the pain and to stop fighting with him. 

You’re once again at one of the band’s gigs, but this time you’re wearing Yeonjun’s merch. You’re here to cheer for him, not your asshole best friend, who by the way was so obviously drunk he keeps messing up, even to your woefully untrained ears. 

You can see him struggling and see the band shooting him dirty looks every time he messes up. You'd feel bad for him if he wasn't such an asshole. Actually, you still feel bad for him. You can't help it. You’re so worried about him that you can’t even enjoy the performance. Not that anyone can really when the vibe is so off with the whole band. 

And this isn’t a one-time thing even. It has happened a few times now. Beomgyu seems to be slipping. You blame Haeun. Ever since she came into his life, he became like this. 

As soon as the last song ends, Beomgyu storms off backstage. His band members awkwardly stay behind to say goodbye to the crowd but you can tell they’re fuming. 

You quickly go backstage, hoping to catch Beomgyu before the members do. For what? You don’t know exactly. You just know your best friend is in trouble and you want to help him. 

But unfortunately, the band makes it back before you do. You go there to find them already ripping into him. 

“For fuck’s sake man. If you wanna get drunk, by all means do it, but on your own time. We’re trying to get signed here. We can’t have you ruin it for us.” Soobin curses at Beomgyu.

“Oh, like you’ve never performed drunk or high before.” Beomgyu retorts, clearly defensive. 

“Yes, but we’ve never let it affect our performance.” Yeonjun interjects, and Beomgyu looks at him with such venom, you think he might lunge forward and punch him. “No, you let your shitty singing and botched notes do that for you.” 

“Oh, yeah? Is that what you’re gonna tell people after you’re kicked out of the band?”

That does it. Beomgyu lunges forward, but Taehyun was anticipating this and he grabs Beomgyu and holds him back. Luckily, he is much stronger than your scrawny best friend. “Hey, hey, let’s calm down.”

“What is he talking about?” Beomgyu demands, and the boys look at Soobin. 

“It won’t come to that.” Soobin tries to calm him down but Beomgyu will not have it. “Won’t come to what? Are you thinking of kicking me out?” 

“No. No, we won’t because you are going to get your shit together and clean your act up.” Soobin deadpans, “Right?” 

Though Soobin was trying his best to reassure Beomgyu, there was also a clear threat there, and Beomgyu shoves Taehyun off him. 

“Right.” He says darkly, grabbing his guitar and walking out. 

You try to run after him but Yeonjun grabs your arm to stop you. “Let him go. He’s an idiot.” 

But you shake your head. “I can’t. He’s my best friend. I have to be there for him.” 

He sighs in disappointment, letting you go, and you run to the parking lot, wondering if you’ve missed him and Beomgyu had taken a taxi home already. But thankfully, you find him standing in front of one, just… waiting? 

When he sees you, he gets into the car and leaves the door open, obviously waiting for you to get in so you do, closing the door behind you before the driver pulls off. 

“I thought you might’ve left.” You say awkwardly. 

“I was waiting for you.” 

Yeah, you definitely did the right thing. If Beomgyu had waited and you didn’t come, you know he would’ve been super pissed, probably thinking that you chose Yeonjun over him. 

You don’t say anything else for the whole drive home. You didn’t want to get into it in front of a stranger so you wait until you’re back inside your apartment to speak up. 

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this,” You start nervously once you’re back home, “But you really need to focus. You can't risk your future like this."

"Like you fucking care. It's all because of you." He accuses you and you reel back in shock.  "What?" 

"Why did you have to fuck my friend?"

"Oh my god, I can't listen to this again." Your hands fly to your head, already feeling a headache coming because of this tired point. What does this even have to do with him getting drunk and ruining the band’s performances?

But Beomgyu doubles down on his stupid point. “Well, you’re going to have to because your boyfriend wants to kick me out of the band.” 

“You are crazy! This has nothing to do with me and Yeonjun.” You shout, exasperated, “They will kick you out because you’re going on stage drunk and playing like shit.” 

“Wow, thanks for the support.” Beomgyu snorts, looking hurt, but you won’t let him get away with guilt-tripping you for his questionable behavior. “No. You won’t do that. You won’t make me feel bad for calling you out on your shit. What the hell are you even doing? You’re jeopardizing your whole career by acting like a goddamn idiot. What has gotten into you?” 

He looks down, not answering you.

“You weren’t like this. Not before she came along.” You mutter and his head snaps up to look at you. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

Fuck, why did you even bring it up? Now you’ll get into an even bigger fight. “It means that maybe she is a bad influence on you, with all the parties and the drinking and shit.” 

“That’s fucking rich coming from the girlfriend of the party animal himself.” And there it is. 

“Why are you so fucking obsessed with Yeonjun? I thought he was your friend.” 

“He is not my friend anymore. Not after what he did.” Beomgyu speaks as if Yeonjun has stabbed him in the back when he may have given him a warning before it’s too late. If he hadn’t said anything, Beomgyu wouldn’t know the band is even considering kicking him out. 

“You’re bringing it on yourself. If you would just not drink on the fucking job then your career wouldn’t be at risk right now.” 

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side.”

“I am not taking anyone’s side.”

“Well, you should!” He screams, clearly getting emotional. “You’re my best friend. You should be on my side! They’re fucking threatening to take my dream away and all you can think about is defending your boyfriend.” 

“I am being your best friend! A real best friend calls you out when you’re making a mistake before it’s too late.” You try to clarify, “Beomgyu, I don’t know why you’re doing this but I don’t want you to ruin this for yourself.” 

“I’m just stressed out.” He says slowly, “Which you would know if you had bothered being a friend and asked.” 

Now maybe you shouldn’t get into it now, but you can’t help being peeved by what he said, and you just blurt out, “It’s hard to ask when you’re so busy getting your face sucked off by her.” 

He’s been hanging out with her so often that you hardly even see him anymore. How the hell are you supposed to know what he’s feeling if you don’t even see him? 

But of course, Beomgyu takes it in another direction, the direction where his dick is doing all the talking. 

“Aw, are you jealous, baby?” He goads, getting all up in your face. “You miss kissing me?”

“Jealous?” You laugh forcefully, the jealousy indeed burning through you and firing you up. “Yeah right, I can have you begging for me any time I want to.”

“Oh, please." He scoffs, his denial irritating you. 

"It's not like I haven't done it before. All I have to do is give your cock a couple of pumps and you'd be whining like a bitch."

His breathing hitches for a second before he counters back. "I was just humoring you. It didn’t even feel that good."

Oh, hell no. The only thing you managed to have with Beomgyu is getting him to need your touch the same way you need his love, and you'll be damned if you let anyone take that from you, even Beomgyu. 

You curse him out under your breath as you charge forward and push him against the wall, crashing your lips together. 

And for someone who just basically claimed to not want you, he sure as hell is eager to reciprocate… damn it, this was bait, wasn't it? That whore. 

Oh, well, now that you started, you can't get yourself to stop now. You've fucking missed the feeling of him pressed needily against you and the all the little noises he makes when he's turned on. You need to have him again. You need him to admit he's addicted to your touch. You need to hear him beg. 

And it doesn't look like it's gonna be hard when the first thing out of his mouth as soon as you part is, "Touch me." 

“You’re so fucking needy.” You mutter, hand trailing up his thigh slowly, intentionally teasing him. “I thought your girlfriend lets you fuck her everyday.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He says, shocking you, and against reason, that makes you happy. “We just mess around.” 

"Sad." You say with faux sympathy, finally grabbing his cock, making his breathing waver. "What about you? Is he your boyfriend?"

Maybe you shouldn’t be having his discussion with your hand cupping his dick. You don’t know if you should tell him the truth, but he did so you should too, right?

"He's not my boyfriend. We just mess around." 

“What… what do you do with him?” He asks slowly, “Do you let him touch you?” 

“Yes.” You admit, watching his reaction closely. You know he’s asking it because you never let him touch you, and if you wanna annoy him, you’d tell him the truth. Which you do. "I let him touch me. I let him eat me out too." 

His face changes just like you hoped it would. "Slut.".

You laugh, hooking your finger into the chain link on the collar he’s wearing and tugging on it a little. "I'm the slut? Not you who is practically begging for me to touch your cock when you’re already getting off with another woman?"

"Whatever. I don’t want whatever STDs you caught from Yeonjun anyway." He tries to walk away but you shove him back against the wall, your body pressed tightly against his. "Really? You don’t want this?"

"No.” He tenses, but his body betrays him, leaning into you. 

“Oh, really? So you don’t want me to pull your pants down and jerk you off just the way you like?” You pull tighter on his collar while feeling the exact imprint of his hardening cock through his pants. 

“No.” He gulps, uncertainty clear in the way his voice wavers. 

“Hmm, and if I were to offer to take you into my mouth, you would say no to that?” You brush your lips against his as your thumb swipes across the head of his cock. “You’d say no to my hot, wet mouth around your needy, pathetic cock?” 

“Shit.” He shudders, his breathing getting ragged and his eyes getting hazy–tell-tale signs that he’s a goner. 

“What is it, baby? Want me to let go?” You feel wetness gather under your thumb, soaking through his pants. Is he not wearing any underwear? Fuck.

“No, fuck. Want it. Want your mouth.” He finally admits, his eyes fixed on your mouth. 

“Okay.” You swipe your tongue over your lips, teasing him. "But first, admit you're the slut."

He blinks, a moment of clarity shining in his eyes. "No."

“No?” You laugh, bringing your hand to your face and licking it before you slide it under his pants, taking a hold of his cock and giving it a firm stroke, feeling his knees buckle for a second. 

“You don’t want my pretty mouth wrapped around your dick?” Your face is so close to his, lips brushing against his every once in a while but every time he tries to close the gap and kiss you, you pull him back by the collar away. “No. Bad dog. If you want it, you have to play nice.” 

“Shit…Okay. You win. I want it.” He confesses, but you don’t give in as easily as he does. “Say it. Tell me what you are.” 

“I’m a slut.” He whimpers and you smile, squeezing his cock as a reward. “That’s right, Beommie. You’re a slut who goes all dumb over the promise of a warm mouth. Isn’t that right?” 

“Yes. Please. I really want it.” He begs, hips timidly thrusting forward. “I need it. I need you.” 

Okay, it doesn’t matter what went on before this. Just hearing him say those three words, that he needs you, is enough for you to get on your knees. “See? I told you I’d get you to beg.” 

But Beomgyu doesn’t care, only focusing on one thing which is you pulling his pants down,  letting his cock spring up before grabbing it in your hands and bending forward to give it a few licks–getting it wet just like Yeonjun showed you. 

But it’s not hard to get Beomgyu wet when he’s already dripping precum for you. Fuck, even his body is slutty.  

“There you go. Now that wasn’t so hard.” You tease, brushing your lips back and forth over the head of his cock. 

"Please, put it in your mouth." He chokes, bucking up into your hand. “I want it! I really want it. Please!” 

You open your mouth, only taking the tip, not just to tease him but get yourself ready for more. But the virgin doesn’t have the self-restraint of Yeonjun, and his hips shoot forward, gagging you on his cock. 

You immediately pull back, glaring up at him. “Do you want me to stop? Do you want to go back to your room and fuck your cum into my panties like you’ve been doing before?” 

His eyes widen and he shakes his head vigorously. “No. No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Keep your hips still or I’ll stop.” You hiss, and he nods pitifully. “Yes, baby.” 

There he goes again, calling you baby as if you were his lover. Though you guess he calls Haeun the same and she’s not his lover either. 

You take him in your mouth again, this time daring to take more of him, knowing whatever you do, he’ll like it anyway. And he does. You can see his nails scraping against the wall behind him as he struggles to keep his body still. “Oh, thank you. Fuck, thank you.” 

He’s such a loser. You love it so much. 

Spurred on by his pathetic display, you make yourself go further and further down his cock, your tongue swiping back and forth on the sensitive underside, getting him so worked up. And he doesn’t even try to hide it. 

"Fuck, so good. You’re so perfect.” He gushes, staring at you taking his cock. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth."

"Do I?" You pull back to answer before taking him in your mouth but this time, you don’t move, just letting the weight of him rest on your tongue.

"Fuck, don't do this to me. Please move." He whimpers, but doesn’t dare to move you. You keep still, but swallow around him, making his thighs go rigid with the effort to not thrust forward and fuck your face. “Fuck…fuck… you’re gonna kill me.” 

You smile, humming around him happily, making him go delirious. “God, I wanna take a picture of you like that." 

“Pervert.” You glare at him, finally pulling back. "Does she let you do that?"

He shrugs, making you more angry. What the hell does that mean? Is that a yes or a no? Is his phone just full of pictures of Haeun with his dick in her mouth?

“Is that what she does?” You prod, grabbing his cock a little too tightly, punishingly. "Or is she too good to suck your dick?"

"Yeah, she does.” He scoffs, puffing his chest out. “She always sucks me off after the shows." 

Is that where they disappear to? Why did you even ask? Why do you have to hurt yourself this way?

"And I guess she didn't get the chance to today." You mutter, hoping he doesn’t hear the bitterness in your voice. 

"Uh-huh. Doesn't matter. I wanted to try your mouth anyway." He confirms, so casually crushing you while making you feel like nothing but a fucktoy in the same breath.

"Fucking whore." You scowl, pulling back and watching him bucking in the air, seeking the warmth of your mouth again. Are you just a mouth for him? A pair of warm hands? The girl who’ll get him off even if he treats her like a toy? 

"I know I'm a whore but please. I need it." 

There it is again. 

You know you should just get up and leave him all high and dry, but you can’t. Not when he looks at you like that, long hair all tousled and lips inexplicably bitten raw despite the fact that he has made no effort to hide his noises so far, moaning and gasping and whimpering so loud you’re sure the neighbors think he’s a camboy or something. 

“Yeah? You need me?” You prompt and he nods harshly. “Yes, need you so bad. You don’t even know.”

You suppose you can’t blame him for treating you like a toy when just a little cry and whine is enough to get you to give in to him. 

"Are you going to be a good boy?" You taunt as if you had any real power over him. Still, Beomgyu reacts as if you do, nodding again. "I'll be good, I swear." 

“Lift your shirt up.” You order, and he obeys, pulling his mesh shirt up. 

God, he’s becoming as much of a flirt as Yeonjun, wearing these revealing outfits on stage and teasing the fans with winks and lip bites. You’re sure he’s collecting his own groupies now too, and soon it won’t just be Haeun you’re competing with. 

Suddenly, you’re filled with the urge to punish him. 

“Higher.” You tell him, instructing him to lift his shirt up until his pretty nipples are in view before reaching out to play with them. “Good boy.” 

The effect on Beomgyu is instant, his hips shooting forward, his cock seeking some relief which you don’t give him for a while, choosing instead to watch him squirm as you thumb and pull at his nipples until they turn puffy and red. 

“Fuck, please…” He cries, cock weeping in need. 

“You’re so sensitive, Beommie.” You lick up some of the precum dribbling down his cock, just light touches that drive him even more insane, teasing him until he’s almost crying. 

You know you shouldn't compare. Yeonjun has a lot of experience while Beomgyu is a horny virgin but you thrive off how enthusiastic and needy he gets whenever you touch him, like he would die if you stop. 

“Please, please, please…” He keeps repeating, holding his shirt up to expose himself to you like a slut as he pleads with you to put your mouth on him and end his suffering. “I need you. Please.” 

You finally wrap your lips around him once he says the magic words, bopping your head up and down his length, relishing in the taste and feeling of him on your tongue so much that you don’t notice at first that he’s trying to get away after only a few bops of your head.

“Stop. Stop!” He squeals, his hands flying to grab at your hair, finally catching your attention. 

“What is it?” You ask, worried. Did you do something wrong?

“Was gonna cum.” He gasps as if that explained anything. 

“So? You can cum in my mouth.” You offer, thinking maybe he wanted to give you a warning. But of course that’s not what the horny bastard is worried about. 

“Oh.” His cock twitches, and you swear he almost came right there. “But… I don’t wanna cum yet. Don’t want it to stop.” 

Immediately, you pull back, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the wall. “You don’t get to ask for things. You just stand there and keep your hands to yourself and take whatever I give you. Understood?” You hiss, and he tries to argue, “But baby–”  

You ignore him, grabbing his cock and jerking him off. “Shut up, Beomgyu. I don’t want to hear anything from you except those slutty moans you love to make.”

Even that turns him on, and he squirms under you.  “No. No, please, too fast. Don't want it to stop." He cries deliriously and you laugh evilly. 

“Don’t you wanna cum in my mouth, baby? I’ll open wide.” You smirk before letting your mouth fall open and sticking your tongue out, mimicking what you know is one of his favorite parts of porn videos as you had seen on his non-so-secret nsfw twitter account all too often. 

And just as expected, the pervert loses it with a loud broken cry, spurting his cum all over your tongue and parts of your face. 

You pull your tongue back with a grin, and he watches in rapt attention, waiting for you to swallow it just the way he likes. But you don’t. Instead you spit it back on his cock, grabbing the sensitive member in your hand and jerking it off quickly and cruelly. 

"What are you doing?" He panics, writhing harder in your hold. 

"You said you wanted more." You act innocent, but your hands are all but, twisting around him just like you learned from Yeonjun.

“Not this!” He squeaks, trying to pull away. "Hurts!"

“Suck it up. You said you’ll be a good boy. Are you going to disappoint me?” 

You didn’t expect that to work but it did. He bites down on his lip, swallowing down most of his pained cries, his hands pulling so hard on his shirt, it tears, but he doesn’t once try to push you away. 

He takes it so well, you actually start feeling bad for him and rethinking your punishment. But when you try to pull away, he lets out a loud sob. “No. Please! Need it. Need it, baby."

“But I thought you wanted me to stop?” You ask, confused, and he shakes his head, sparkling tears falling off his eyelashes. 

“Is it feeling good again? You coo, massaging his tense thigh with your free hand. 

“Uh-huh. So good.” His mouth was almost permanently hung open now, a little bit of drool dribbling out. “You’re so pretty.” 

Even though he’s all dumbed out and you’re sure he doesn’t even know what he’s saying right now, it still makes your heart flutter. He thinks you’re pretty. 

But then an ugly thought comes into your mind. Is he like this with her? Is he just as loud and desperate? Will he just say anything to get what he wants? You haven’t heard him be like this the tortuous couple of times you have had to endure listening to them, but maybe he is the one in charge when he’s with her. Maybe he has her to fuck and has you to fuck him, so he’d be getting the best of both worlds. You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that’s why he keeps pushing for more from you even when he has her. 

“I’m–I’m there, b-baby.” He stutters out, his hips moving a bit, but you don’t punish him for it because you don’t think he’s even aware of it. Besides, you don’t feel up for this anymore. 

“Cum for me, Beommie.” You order, taking him in your mouth, and it doesn’t take long for the wet heat of it to have him cumming again. You take it in your mouth like last time, not swallowing it. 

Instead, you get up, grabbing him by the jaw and kissing him, forcing him to take his own cum. But Beomgyu doesn’t even flinch, kissing you back hungrily, letting you push your tongue into his mouth as he sucks on it needily. 

When you finally pull back, you see the mess you’ve made of him–panting heavily, his lips swollen and red, coated with your saliva and his own cum, some of it smeared along his chin. 

But he doesn’t care, smiling at you.  “Fuck, that was hot.” 

You frown at that. You don’t know what you expected him to say. That you sucked him off so good, he now realizes you’re the one for him? That he’ll ditch Haeun and be with you only? You’re a disaster. 

“Get cleaned up and go to bed.” You tell him, heading towards the kitchen, suddenly in desperate need for some water to clear your mouth. God, what are you even doing? 

But Beomgyu isn’t done with you, and he follows after you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your neck. “Beomgyu…” You warn. You can’t deal with this right now. You’re too fragile. 

“Please…��� He begs sweetly, knowing the way to your heart. His hands slither up your waist to cup your breasts, his fingers ghosting over your nipples causing a burning white sensation to shoot down between your legs. 

“Just let me take care of you for once.” He pleads, pulling lightly on your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, fanning the fire brewing in your belly. 

You can let him just one time right? You’d be getting yourself off in bed dreaming of his touch anyway so why can’t you let him help you rub one out just this once? That way you can head straight to sleep and let your tired bones rest so you wouldn’t have to think about what you just did, so you’d get one night’s relief from the crushing feeling of your unreciprocated love.  

“You can’t take my clothes off.” You finally relent. Yes, you’re out of your mind but you’re still deeply insecure and worried what he’ll think. 

“Just the shirt.” He growls, pulling on it. “Want it off.” 

You’re confused for a second by his aggression before you realize you’re wearing Yeonjun’s merch. 

“No. The shirt stays on.” You insist, partly due to your insecurity and partly to annoy him.

He’s not happy about it. You can tell by the way he bites down on the junction between your neck and your shoulder, but honestly that just turns you on more. 

One of his hands leaves your breasts to go down your body, shimmying under your waistband to reach your pussy.

“Fuck…” He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how wet you are. He immediately starts rubbing your pussy, not attempting to tease at all. “You’re so wet.”

You freeze. Is that good? Is it bad? Does he think you’re too wet? 

“So sexy. Driving me crazy.” He groans, sucking on your sensitive neck and rolling your nipple between his fingers, dispelling your ridiculous doubts. You spread your legs a little, giving his fingers easier access to your pussy, and his long fingers rub along the entire length of your slit, not leaving one part untouched, overwhelming your poor body, all while his mouth never ceases to kiss and such along your neck. “Yes, baby, just like that, spread those legs for me. Let me make your pussy feel good.” 

Fuck, he’s so lewd, it’s so sexy. You don’t even care that he’s probably leaving so many hickies along your neck that in the morning you’ll look like you’ve been ravaged by a wild animal. All you care about right now is his relentless attack on your body. 

His words and touches have made your brain go fuzzy that you let him unbutton your pants, shoving them down your thighs so he can squeeze two fingers inside you at once. 

“Oh god, you’re so tight. So soft. You’re perfect.” He moans as if he’s the one getting pleasure. You don’t know who is more desperate here, you or him. His words feel almost as pleasurable as his hands. You've never imagined Beomgyu saying this to you. You were always so insecure of what he'll think. You were worried about him even touching you. If you knew this is how he would react, maybe you would’ve let him do it sooner. 

Or maybe not. You don’t know what this will do to your heart once your pussy gets its fill. But it’s hard to think about that when he’s panting against your neck. “Fuck, fuck… You like it, baby? Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes, Beommie. You’re such…such a good boy.” You praise, and he keens, one of his hands returning to your breasts. "Can I see your tits? Wanna see your pretty tits." 

Fuck it, you’ll give him what he wants at this point. You just really need him to make you cum. 

“Okay…” You relent, and as soon as the word is out of your mouth, he’s pulling the shirt up over your breasts to expose them. 

“So pretty.” He whines, wetting his fingers before returning them back to your nipple, rubbing the poor sensitive thing until you can’t hold your own body weight anymore. You lean against him, the wet sound of his fingers fucking your pussy open reaching your ears, but you feel too good to let the embarrassment or security in right now. 

“God, I wanna fuck these.” Beomgyu grunts, pulling at your other nipple, his hips grinding against your ass as if he’s imagining doing just that. “Can I, baby?” 

"No. Be good." You warn. You’ll go crazy if he stops. “I’m close. Don’t ruin it now.” 

“I won’t. I promise, I won’t.” He lets go of your abused nipples and grabs you by the hair, turning your head towards him so he can kiss you. “Need you to cum on my fingers, baby. I need it more than anything. Please. Will you cum for me?” 

“Y-yeah… I’ll cum for you..” You say as if you had any choice in the matter, as if your body would’ve let you retain any dignity. 

You break down on his fingers, clenching around them as the orgasm shoots through you in little pants and needy mewls which Beomgyu hungrily devours with his mouth. 

“You’re so hot.” He heaves against your lips, kissing you again and again long after your orgasm is over. 

“Beomgyu–” You start to say, the brain fog clearing up. 

“I need more.” He moans, the words jolting through your brain as it’s waking up. 

What? 

You feel his hands messing around with your pants, trying to take them off your body completely, and when he drops to the floor to pull them off your leg, you quickly stop him. 

“What are you doing?” You exclaim, grabbing onto your pants and trying to pull them back up. But Beomgyu holds onto them tightly.  

“Please, want to taste you.” He begs, clearly still in the throes of lust. 

“No.” You hiss, and he whines. “Why not? I’ve become really good at it. Had lots of practice.” 

God, you feel sick. 

“No!” You push him away and he falls on his ass. 

“What? So he can eat you out and I can’t? You can suck me off but I can’t taste you?” He asks angrily and you roll your eyes. “Yes. That’s exactly it."

As if his horny brain could ever understand how all of this makes you feel. All he cares about is that Yeonjun got something and he didn’t, like you’re a piece of candy Yeonjun swiped from him. 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite.” He huffs, getting up. “Why won’t you let me taste you?” 

“I don’t need to let you do anything.” You shout at him, putting your pants back on, hoping that would lessen the humiliation coursing through your veins. “I don’t owe you anything and you need to get that through your fucking head. But it’s my mistake because I keep letting this happen. This has got to stop.” 

"Why? I like it and you like it too." He looks at you for confirmation and you look away, but Beomgyu is not deterred, grabbing you by the shoulders. "Come on, I know you feel it too. It's different when we're together. I know it is for me. It doesn't feel like that with Haeun. Does it feel like this with Yeonjun?"

“What feels different?” You confront him, daring to ask the forbidden question. “What is this?”

He frowns, stumbling back and taking his hands off you as if you’d burned him. “Sex?” 

Right. Typical guy behavior when faced with the remotest possibility of intimacy. 

You laugh sadly. “Beomgyu, are you with Haeun or not?” You have to know. You have to know what he’s even doing. Are both you and Haeun just a way for him to get his dick wet? 

"Do you not want me to be?” He answers your question with another question, catching you off guard. 

“N-no–you can do whatever you want. Why would I care?” You immediately deny, fear and anxiety gripping your heart. You can’t let him know how you feel, especially not after he just basically confirmed he’s just here for the sex. 

He’s silent for a few moments, just staring at you as if he can see through your lies. God, please no. You can’t handle the shame of it. 

But he just shrugs. “Well, if you don’t care then what’s the problem, right? Me and Haeun aren’t exclusive so you and I can keep doing this.”  

His words make you feel disgusted. That’s all he thinks of this, that’s all he thinks of you–just some fun to be had so he can get his rocks off 

“I don’t think so.” You finally say and he frowns. “Why not? I thought you said Yeonjun isn’t your boyfriend.” 

"He’s not.” 

He smiles widely, moving to grab you again but you stop him. "But I want him to be. I want to try it seriously with him." 

“Why? What do you even like about him?” He asks, irritated. 

“He’s sweet–” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, preparing to protest but you keep going, not giving him a chance. “He cares about me. He’s charming. He’s talented. He’s funny.” 

“So? I’m all of those things.” 

Yes, you are. And much more. But you don’t love me the way I love you. 

“So I want a boyfriend, Beomgyu, not a fuckbuddy.” 

“Right.” He scoffs, “Good luck getting that from Yeonjun.” 

With that, he turns around and leaves you feeling sick in your own skin. 

___________________

A/N: feedback gives me the motivation and energy to write more so if you want the next chapter as quickly as possible, drop in a message or a comment telling me what you think 😘

As some of you know, this might've been the last gyu smut scene, but if I were to include another one, would you rather it be sub!gyu or dom!gyu?

i can't include another poll so i'll skip the "who do you want oc to end up with" this time, but you can let me know anyway

taglist: @sanasour @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

[joeybsversion]

Trouble

Joe Burrow x Reader

Your friends and family aren’t fond of Joe

“Seriously, he’s trouble. I can’t believe you’re going out with him.” Your friend scoffed, turning off the end of the Bengals game.

“He’s not trouble!” You defend him. “Really, he’s a nice guy!”

“Oh really? Is that why you’ve refused to tell your parents you’re dating him?”

“They’re just not big Bengal fans. It has nothing to do with Joe.” You lied as your friend rolled her eyes.

You had been secretly dating Joe Burrow, the Cincinnati Bengals Quarterback for 7 months now. It’s true, most people weren’t fond of Joe. He comes across as cocky, rude, and privileged. Plus his current bad boy edit doesn’t help much. Joe had recently gotten himself into trouble. He’s found a love for partying, blowing his money, and being reckless. All causing excess fame and a negative spotlight, something you wanted to avoid.

“Are you sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he got suspended from games for legal trouble? Or has shown up to practice violently hungover?”

“How’d you hear about that?” You questioned.

She laughed, “It’s all over the news. He’s gonna get himself into some real trouble and not have a career here soon.”

“He’s working on turning things around. Really. I swear.” You do your best to defend him again. You seem to be doing that a lot lately. “Plus we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months. I’m just having fun.”

“I know, and I’m happy for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” She reaches out and takes your hand. “But I know none of that is going to change your mind, so go have fun tonight.”

“I love you. If my mom asks, I’m here!” You remind her and head out the door, “Your pizza should be here soon and I logged into my Netflix account!” You figured if your friend has to spend the night posted up in her room to cover for you, you might as well take care of her.

You hopped into your car and headed over to Joes house, he was throwing a party after the game. Joe’s parties were always fun, usually a little wild, and typically ended with the police kicking people out and shutting things down. As much as Joe was trying to work past his bad boy edit, he couldn’t help it. He’s young and having fun.

The loud music from Joe’s house is rattling your car as you pull into his driveway. He’s outside on the porch with some teammates smoking a cigar.

As you walk through his thick cloud of smoke and clear the air in front of your face with your hand, Joe pulls you into a hug.

“There’s my baby.” His words slurred, you’re unsure if it’s from alcohol or the thick cigar pressed between his lips.

“Hi, Joey.” You wrap your arms around his waste and snuggle into his chest. “Good game, congrats on the win.”

He pulls the cigar from his mouth, “I want you to come to the next one.” He smiles.

“Me? At the game? Isn’t it in a different state?” You question, suddenly nervous. You and Joe had been casually dating, nothing was public yet.

“The next home game.” He laughs, blowing a thick cloud of smoke over your head. “2 weeks.”

“I’ll think about it.” You try and reassure him.

“Think about it?” He asks offended.

“Well, yeah..I don’t… I’m not sure…” you feel his arms drop from around you. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go public yet.” You nervously tell him.

“It’s a football game. Not a red carpet.” He says annoyed.

“I know but…”

He cuts you off “It’s fine. Don’t come.”

“Joe I want to!” You reassure him.

“Seems like it.” He scoffs before heading inside, you following close behind.

“Joe I do! Really, there’s nothing I’d love more! I just still haven’t told many people about us, and you know, you haven’t had the best press lately and I don’t want to mess that up anymore for you and I just worry that-“

He presses the cigar to your mouth “take this.” He laughs cutting you off. “I’m sorry about the press. I’m working on it. Tomorrow I have a fun event at the elementary school. Next week, the high school. And the whole team is volunteering at the blood drive. Nothing but positive press up until the game.”

“Wow, what’s next? Taking a shift at the old folks home? Serving in the soup kitchen?” You tease.

He rolls his eyes, “So are you coming to the game or not?”

“I guess you better find me a Burrow jersey, because I’ll be there.” You smile.

The rest of the night is a blur. Lots of drinks, lots of dancing, too many sweaty bodies, and even louder music. You wake up the next morning tangled up in bed with Joe. His heavy arm around your waste and soft breathing on the backside of your neck. You slowly loosen his grip and start to make your way out of bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He grumbles, barely audible.

“Home.” You slip your shoes on. “And you need to get up too. Your elementary school meet and greet starts in 45 minutes.” You sit down on the side of the bed again. “I don’t think the elementary school principal appreciates his guest of honor showing up smelling like a mini bar.”

“You’re probably right.” He slowly starts to sit up. “I’ll reserve some spots for you for the game.” He says. “Any request on where you want to sit?”

All the nerves come back. “Doesn’t matter.” You smile at him, wishing you could avoid the game all together. It’s not that you were ashamed to be with him, you were just anxious about what people, especially your parents will say. “I’m gonna get out of here.” You quickly excuse yourself, not sure if the sudden butterflies in your stomach are from drinking too much, or the next home game.

You call your best friend on your way and tell her all about the game.

“You’re gonna have to tell your parents.”

“I can’t! They will freak if they find out I’ve been dating him!”

“So are you going to keep your relationship a secret forever?”

“I don’t know I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Well scratch that thought, it’s not a secret anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Check your phone.”

As you pull in your parents drive way, you pull out your phone to see a news article your friend sent you, a picture of you and Joe is on the front page. “Where did you find this?” You panicked.

“I was just checking E! News. It looks like every major magazine is covering it now!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” You sigh, “I have to tell them now. I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you later. I’ll probably need some support.”

“Good luck!” She says and ends the call.

“You’re WHAT?” You dad hollers, slamming down the news paper he was reading.

“Dad, he’s a nice guy. Really I -“

“No. The little romance you guys having going on is over. I can’t believe this. You’re such a good girl, why would you want to be with someone like him?”

“He’s nothing like what the press makes him out to be. He’s actually really kind, and supportive, and is volunteering a lot for the community.”

“I don’t care if he’s the president. You are not being seen with someone like him.”

“About that..”

“What?”

“Well the news got pictures of me at his house last night and leaked a story.” You hide your face in your hands.

“At his house?” Your mom questions. “So you’ve been lying to us? Clearly he’s a bad influence to be hanging around.”

“I lied because I knew you would react like this. You’re not even giving him a chance.”

“I’ve never seen you defend someone like this. What is going on?”

“I’m…”

Your dad crosses his arms across his chest “I’m in love with him. And I’m going to be with him and support him no matter how you feel. You don’t know him like I do.”

“I’ve never seen you fight for someone like this.”

“Because, I love him.”

Your dad sighs, “I don’t know if I like the sound of that. But I’m willing to give him a chance. Why don’t you invite him over.”

“Really?!”

“Like I said,” he pauses, “I’m not crazy about him, but I can tell that you, and for that reason, I want to get to know him.”

A few hours later, Joe shows up on your front porch and confidently knocks on the front door.

“Hi Joey.” You greet him with a smile and hug. “You look great… did you iron your shirt?” You tease him, brushing a hand across his perfectly pressed shirt.

“Steamed it actually.” He smiles, “I wanted to make a good impression.” He nervously takes your hand and follows you into the house.

“Mom, Dad, this is Joe.” You awkwardly present him to your parents.

He politely shakes their hands and takes a seat at the table next to you.

You feel his hand find its way to your thigh, his palms are sweaty, and his fingers are nervously tapping across your leg. You reassuringly take his hand into yours and lightly rub across the top and share a confident smile.

At the end of dinner, you and Joe excuse yourselves and you walk him to the porch.

“They loved you.” You kiss him.

“I’m so relieved.”

“My dad even wants to go to the game with me!”

He laughs, “I’ll get extra tickets.”

Relieved that your parents were pleased with Joe, you walked him out, he kissed you goodnight, and you sent him on his way home.

It’s official and the world knows, you’re in love with Joe Burrow.

[yuurei20]

Short translation from the second Twisted Wonderland novel: Yuuya and the rumors

“'What's the matter? You look a bit down,’ says the ghost.

‘No…mm. It's nothing, but...' Yuuya’s reluctant response trails off in a sigh. ‘I just remembered that tomorrow is the start of another week.’ 

‘Ah, I get it.’ Ace nods in understanding. ‘You're all gloomy cause you don’t want to go to school.’

‘…yeah.’

‘I get that,’ Grim says with a knowing nod. ‘I hate all those boring classes.’

‘Nah, it’s cause he doesn’t want a bunch of guys he doesn’t even know giving him trouble again.’

Yuuya gives a weak nod.

Yuuya and Grim have been students at Night Raven College for a month. He’d assumed that everything would settle down in time, but after a certain incident things are more shaken up than ever.

It is as though there is no one at the school who has not heard the rumors surrounding Yuuya. Everyone is talking about the incident.

Riddle Rosehearts, the housewarden who reigned over Heartslabyul Dorm, and his excessively strict rules. His authoritarian regime may have continued until his graduation but then, disoriented, he had unleashed a torrent of magical power that resulted in his overblot. 

Blot is a byproduct of using magic. While a phenomenon that can pose a deadly threat to mages who allow it to accumulate, it is very rare for it to ever reach that point. For an overblot to occur within such a prestigious, traditional school for mages was unprecedented.

It was a major incident that involved both the students of Heartslabyul, and those of another dorm entirely.

A dorm that was most recently dubbed ‘Ramshackle.’ Its two members are Kuroki Yuuya, a human from another world incapable of using magic, and Grim, a magical beast.

They are special first-years, having received permission from the headmage to enroll due to unusual circumstances.

‘Well, it’s not like the rumors are wrong, but they leave out a lot of important parts.’

Listening to Ace explain, Yuuya starts to feel dizzy.

‘I wasn’t really that caught up in everything with Riddle-senpai, I just happened to be there with you two…I don’t really think ‘special first year’ is the right way to put it.’

‘I guess the main point is that they’re not just rumors.’ Deuce seems to be thinking hard, and Ace laughs aloud.

‘I get asked about you all the time, too, but it’s not like I can say they're wrong or refute them, right?’

‘It’s okay to refute them! People are even coming to our classroom, now, to look in. I thought I was just imagining it at first, but…it’s probably the rumors.’

‘Well, you hear something like that and of course you’re gonna think, ‘I wonder how amazing that first-year really is,’ right?’

‘Speaking of which, on Friday, when I saw you talking to someone from another class,’ Deuce blinks as if having just remembered something. ‘I thought it was someone you knew―they were just hassling you?’

‘Yeah...I might have fainted if you hadn't walked up.’

‘That's a bit dramatic...but then again, not for Yuu, I guess.’

While he is an ordinary human, there is one thing that sets Yuuya apart from others: he detests fighting. 

Even witnessing a conflict sets him on edge, and hearing the slightest argument makes him anxious. There is nothing that Yuuya would not do to avoid a fight.

And yet, it seems that a considerable number of students now view him as a rival. Night Raven College students have a lot of pride. Rumors about a special first-year student must have sparked their competitive spirit.

There is no end to the openly hostile students. Whenever he hears, ‘Hey, are you Yuu?,’ he gives an evasive answer and runs away.

‘What? Someone pickin’ a fight? We can’t just let ‘em mock Ramshackle Dorm.’ Grim growls, wrinkling his small, black nose. ‘Tell me who it is an’ where they are. I’ll knock ‘em right out!’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘Well, don’t let it get to you.’ Ace pats Yuuya on the back. He hasn’t stopped chuckling. ‘People will forget about the rumors sooner or later. Hang in there!’

‘That’s easy for you to say…’

If any of them were significantly involved in the situation with Riddle, it was Ace. But with the gossip about Yuuya spreading like wildfire Ace has been able to avoid any negative attention, skillfully keeping himself out of the trouble.

Perhaps he feels guilty about it. ‘You actually seem to be fitting in with the class more,’ he offers in assurance.

‘You think so? Nothing feels different.’

‘Yeah, I think you’re starting to fit in, too.’ 

Yuuya remains glum, even despite Deuce's encouragement. Ace and Deuce exchange glances and shrug."

[zebulontheplanet]

A lot of people don’t know this because I don’t really talk about it, but I’m talking about it today!

I’ve been to three psychiatric hospitals in my life. Three. That’s quite a lot. I went from ages 12 to about 15 maybe younger, and was in for months at a time. People don’t realize how utterly terrifying and traumatizing psych wards are and it shows. If you even dare to say “psych wards aren’t that bad” then get the fuck out cause we had two different experiences.

It’s constant fighting, screaming, violence, sedation, med trials, seeing people getting restrained and getting restrained yourself. I’ve never personally been restrained or had more than a voluntary pill sedative, but still. Seeing those things, witnessing those things, is traumatizing. Seeing constant violence, being in constant fight or flight mode is not fun.

I would never go back, nor do I think I can ever go back due to my current support needs and the fact I need access to constant AAC which a lot of places deny.

I have severe psychiatric issues, and I think it was a good choice that I went when I did, however I will never be the same because of the experiences I went through while there. Yes, I had some good experiences, yes I had some bad experiences.

I’m tired of the constant romanization of psychiatric hospitals. I’m tired of the quirky “grippy sock vacation” shit because like, what the actual fuck? Do you know what psychiatric wards are like? Do you know how traumatizing they can be? Do you know that you can’t show an ounce of misbehavior or you will get in trouble. I couldn’t meltdown, I couldn’t shutdown, I couldn’t show anger, hurt, anything without getting in trouble! That sucks!

Please stop glamorizing it. Stop trying to make it silly and fun because it isn’t and you’re causing real harm. Instead, educate about psychiatric hospitals, tell the truth. Tell your experiences.

This post is not at all to deter people from getting help. If you need help then get help! If you think it’s the best option for you then go for it! Psych hospitals are great for getting stable on medication. That’s what they’re made for. To get you semi stable so they can do outpatient care or residential care.

I’ll speak more on this later but yeah. This was just my current thoughts.

[2knightt]

Omg omg hi i like never do requests but i really like your stuff like it is so so so good so i was thinking maybe how the gang would react to finding you crying or something 🙈

↳we’re good at being troubled₊˚���

➬ the gang x crying!reader

!!MASSIVE WARNING, CONTAINS ABUSE, ALCOHOLISM AND OTHER SENSITIVE TOPICS.!!

Johnny Cade ;

johnny thought he’d surprise you by visiting you unannounced, thought it’d be a cute couple moment.

so, he just welcomed himself into your house and was about to shout something—until he heard you sniffle and break into sobs.

he rushed into your room in fear, just to find you curled up on your bed, sobbing.

“hey—love, what’s wrong? hey, hey, hey…you’re okay.”

he said, crouching down beside your bed to get to eye level.

“j-johnny! you didn’t say you was comin’. sorry, i really am..!”

you basically shouted, sitting up right and wiping your tears.

“you ain’t answer my question. what’s wrong?”

he looked right into your eyes, and you broke down again.

“it’s just—all too much, johnny. all of it is, if this is what life has to offer..i-i can’t do it.”

johnny teared up at hearing you speak like that.

“well jeez, y/n.”

he jumps up onto your bed and throws his arm around your shoulder as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“it’ll get better, it always does.”

“everyone says that, but they’re always wrong.”

“well, have you stuck around to see it get better?”

you haven’t, you’re still real young.

shit, johnny cade was your first boyfriend. you ain’t experience everything, or anything.

“shoot, you got me, the gang, and your friends. we’ll be here with you.”

..yeah. you ain’t alone.

“yea, you right.”

johnny kisses the top of your head and hugs you tightly, as to show that he cares.

he was never good with his words, you and him both knew that much.

“it’ll be alright, love.”

Dallas Winston ;

you had been at the lot, drunk and crying for god knows how long.

your dad had yelled at you and said nonsense not even you wanna think about.

so, you drank to forget. like always.

when you heard the slightest bit of noise, you’d whip your head up in fear of someone noticing you.

but dallas was always sneaky, he had to be.

“whatcha cryin’ for, doll?”

you jumped at his voice that came from right behind you.

you turned so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, but before you could even look at him, he sat next to you.

“well?”

“..i ain’t cryin’.”

dallas just shook his head and chuckled.

“stop lyin’ about the most obvious shit. what’s wrong?”

he said, looking directly at you, inching closer.

you hiccuped due to the several booze you downed earlier, and possibly to the crying you’ve been doing.

“my dad, again. he-he said some stuff even i don’t wanna say. it jus- got to me, man.”

all dallas did was sigh and kiss your temple as he brought you in for a side hug, which caused you to cry more.

the alcohol just made you feel your emotions even more.

“i’ll beat the tar outta him. he ain’t nothin’ compared to you. he’s just some trash that so happens to be related to the most wonderful girl in tusla.”

while you cried into dallas’s arms, he rubbed his thumb on your arm, up and down, while having a firm grip on it. almost like you were gonna run away at any moment.

you passed out not to long after, dallas carried you off to bucks where the both of you spent the night there.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

your mom had slapped you across the face during an argument.

she had never hit you before, only yelled.

you were scared, angry, and disgusted. so, you stormed out of the house.

while walking, it had occurred to you that you had no where to go.

with all the overwhelming feelings that were surfacing, you started to tear up. tears turned into cries, and tears turned into sobs.

you thought about what ponyboy would think if he saw you like this, then it hit you.

you’re so stupid! the curtis house is right there!

so you got up and started to walk, while crying. just..not as hard as minutes, no, seconds before.

you knocked on the curtis door and prayed to whoever’s up there that your boyfriend would answer.

and lady luck was on your side, because he did.

but she soon left when ponyboy saw you.

“oh my glory, y/n?! what’s wrong, what happened? are you okay?”

when you heard him say your name, you have to admit, that lump in your throat came back.

you looked up at him and enveloped him in hug.

“my mom—she..she hit me. i can’t believe it, she actually hit me, man.”

his eyes widened and he held you tightly as he slowly shimmied his way inside.

he rocked the two of you back and forth. left foot, then right foot.

until you calmed down is when he finally started to talk.

you crying made him freeze up, he didn’t know what to do.

he was worried, scared, angry, sad, everything.

the love of his life was crying and he just froze.

“are-are you okay? do you need water?”

“i’m fine now, pony. can i stay the night? i’m sorry to bother.”

you answered, in between sniffles. you looked up at him with bloodshot eyes as he nodded his head aggressively and smiled at you.

“ye-yeah! definitely! come on.”

Sodapop Curtis ;

you were staying the night at the curtis house after a fight broke out with you and your sibling.

you were too mad to go back, but too sad not to cry.

you sat in the curtis bathroom and cried, until you heard knocking. then that shut you right up.

“y/n, love, are you okay? you’ve been in there an awful long time.”

your boyfriend, sodapop, was always carin’. of course he’d check up on you!

you ran to the mirror and looked into your own eyes that were terribly bloodshot and puffy.

how can you go outside like this? you thought to yourself, until you heard knocking again.

“y/n? are you okay? you aren’t answerin’ me, im worried.”

“ye-yeah! i’m alright soda. i’m sorry to worry you.”

“well, come out. you ain’t gon’ be sleepin’ in the tub.”

you sniffled and rushed to find something, anything, to hide your eyes.

unfortunately, sodapop heard you sniffle, and once again, unfortunately, you had left the door unlocked.

“woah! hey-y/n, what’s wrong? you alright?”

soda basically shouted and he rushed to you, grabbing your face with both hands.

you just looked up at him, feeling pathetic.

“you know.”

“awe, i’m so sorry, sugar.”

he whispers as he grabs you into a bear hug.

ponyboy took after his brother, because he does the same rocking back and fourth while hugging you.

sodapop lifted you into the air and wrapped his arms around your waist, with your legs around his waist.

“i’ll take ya to bed, okay? sibling fights are normal, shoot, i hear ‘em basically everyday!”

you nodded your head as you smiled, your tears slowly drying up.

sodapop had an aura that could make anyone cheer up, even when they’re breaking down in sobs.

Darry Curtis ;

you were a smart grease, one of the only hoodlums that could leave the east side and make a name for themselves.

but you couldn’t. your mother is ill and father’s a no good dead beat.

you had to stay and take care of her, couldn’t take that full ride to the best college in state because of that.

one fateful night, all your emotions came crashing down.

your sadness, anger, and fear couldn’t stay hidden anymore.

but, you were at the curtis house, in your boyfriends bed.

you got up as quietly as you could. you’re used to getting up without waking darry, he was a real light sleeper.

you walked out into the porch, trying to not make a sound.

you sat down on the step, head in your hands, and cried.

you cried and cried until you heard the door open, the curtis door wasn’t particularly quiet.

“y/n, what’s happening? is everything alright?”

you tried to stop tearing up to face darry, but you couldn’t.

he sat down on the steps next to you and sneaked his arm ‘round your waist, closing the few inches between the two of you.

“…it’s nothin’, dare. go back inside.”

you practically demanded, but your body disagreed with your words as you leaned your head to rest on his body.

“it’ll be okay y/n. it’ll be just fine. you’re strong, brave, n real smart. you can push through.”

your tears dried and turned into small sniffles.

you held darrys free hand as you stared at him while he stared off into space.

he finally looks down at you and kisses your head.

darry stands up, and extends his arm out for you to take.

Steve Randle ;

you were just, crying in your car.

no rhyme or reason, just felt like it.

plus, being parked in a empty mall parking lot while it’s raining seemed fitting.

you just sat there, head held high, staring at the roof with tears streaming down your face.

you were in your feels, you have to admit it.

well—until you heard knocking on your window.

you looked over to see steve, your boyfriend, freaking out.

arms all over the place, screaming, panicking.

you rolled down the window and shouted,

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”

steve opens the car door, from the inside, and welcomes himself in.

“WHY ARE YOU CRYING??”

he shouts back, turning to face you in the blink of an eye.

“CAN I NOT CRY??”

“NOT WHEN YOURE WITH ME!—which will be forever but that’s another story.”

you giggled to yourself, with tears still streaming down your face.

“you ain’t answer me, babe! why are you crying?! who’s ass do i gotta kick?!”

steve always reacted so violently when it came to you.

but, it was comforting to know that someone cared enough to kick the shit out of someone for you.

you started up your car, and held Steve’s hand.

“no reason.”

“…what.”

“yea, no reason. just felt like it, it’s good to get your emotions out.”

steve was silent as he stared at you.

“you’re crazy, y/n.”

he said, shaking his head as he extended himself over the arm rest separating the two of you.

he grabbed your face so you can face him, and kissed your forehead.

“if i ever see you cryin’ like that again with ‘no reason’ i’ll actually start cryin’ myself.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

failing a test worth 80% of your grade is never good.

and it sure as hell wasn’t good for you.

you worked and worked so hard for that test, just to freeze up and fail.

when you got home, all you did was cry on your couch.

you didn’t bother doin’ nothing else, not even to tell two-bit that your date is canceled.

you only remembered because you heard him struggling to put his spare key into the doorknob.

shitshitshit.

you bet your eyes are all puffy and red, how’s your boyfriend gonna react? he doesn’t do well with anyone showing any negative emotions.

“WHAT’S U—oh shit. y/n, are you alright?—wait that was a stupid question to ask. what happened?”

you giggled through your tears as you heard two-bit freak out.

“i’m an idiot, two. i failed the biggest test of the year. i tried so hard.”

two-bits face scrunched up at your words.

“you ain’t an idiot! compared to me, you’re a genius! well, you are a genius. but shoot, i don’t even know what 8+9 is!”

he got up on he couch and sat beside you while he spoke, only to get up again.

“look at me.”

he demanded, and you obliged.

you looked up at him, only for him to pick you up and swing you around some.

you laughed. two-bit always does this with you to catch you off guard.

he stopped after a few seconds and just held you.

“you ain’t gon’ talk about yourself like that! it’s an insult to me and you! and you know i don’t take any sort of disrespect!”

you still were teary eyed, so two-bit ran his thumb across your cheek and smiled.

“how about i treat ya, huh? the dingo’s calling our name, sweetheart, can’t you hear it?”

he said, throwing his arm around your shoulders and throwing his free arm in the air, like there was supposed to be writing as he moved his hand.

taglist: @diorgirl444 , @typereader

a/n; IM SO SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING LMFAOO I’VE BEEN PLAYING RDR2 FOR SO LONG

[ghoastixx]

Bringing your slashers/horror characters to Thanksgiving

Includes: Michael Myers (OG), Beetlejuice, Billy Loomis & Stu Macher, J.D., Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Poly Lost Boys, Carrie White

Includes: gn reader, swearing, pet names,

———————————————————————————-

Michael Myers

In reality, this man is not going to your family’s Thanksgiving. He’s not even taking his mask off.

But let’s pretend!!

Let’s say you DID get Michael to take off his mask and venture out of your home for Thanksgiving.

You told your family that he was mute, some understood that better than others.

Grandma? Loves him for some reason.

“Hi baby, is this Michael? Oh hi sweetheart, how are you doing, come let’s get you guys seated.”

She’s so sweet he’s so unused to it other than from you.

He would freak out a lot of people by sitting there and just staring at everyone.

He’s so big and tall compared to everyone, grandpa would ask if he could help him move a dresser or some shit.

“Come on Michael, we’re gonna be late!” You called, waiting patiently by the door.

When you both arrived at your family’s home where Thanksgiving would be hosted this year, Michael was very tense. Very rarely did he ever take his mask off and he hadn’t had a thanksgiving in years. You took his hand and brushed your thumb over your knuckles as you walked inside, taking your shoes off. Your grandma greeted you with a hug and a comfortingly sweet voice.

“Sweetheart! So glad you could make it! Is this Michael? It’s a pleasure to meet you young man,” your grandma said with a smile, touching his hand which made him tense. “Come now, let’s get you guys seated before the food gets cold.”

Mikey was nervous walking through the house, seeing pictures of grandkids and uncles and cousins, seeing everyone seated.

Your grandpa took liking to his muscles,

“Yeah! Looks like you could get the job done, you mind helping me move some boxes in the garage? My back isn’t as nice as it used to be and my kids are pieces of shit.”

“Dad😡”

———————————————————————————

Beetlejuice

Yeah he can pretend to be problematic for thanksgiving.

Would purposely scare the shit out of your cousins.

Your family calls him musty..

Your emo cousin likes him though!!

“Y/N…get him out of here he stinks!” Meanwhile your dead boyfriend is sitting across from your emo cousin who’s lowkey studying him over. He’s just letting them too, he says it reminds them of Lydia.

Your family is boring to him, he’d much rather have thanksgiving at your own house with Lydia and Adam and Barbra.

“Come on babes, this is boring, we’re out of here,” he states as he takes a Turkey leg and promptly leaves the home, hand in yours.

———————————————————————————-

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

Your parents and family do not approve.

They’re mostly confused as to why you brought two boys with you. They call it slut behavior.

Billy’s family most likely can’t even get through a normal dinner, let alone Thanksgiving, so he was down for coming.

Stu’s family were out of town and he didn’t want to go to some fancy thanksgiving with a lot of people he didn’t know. He’d rather stay in Woodsboro and get drunk for Thanksgiving, but being with his partners worked too.

Your family is way turned off by Billy, they think he’s rude, where as they think Stu is too energetic.

Billy and Stu would find any excuse to dip, letting them have private time, away from everyone.

Stu would make dirty jokes at the table in you and Billy’s ear.

You get a lot of side eyes from everyone..

You knock on the door with both of your boys, only to be greeted by a strange look.

“Y/N, baby, you brought your friends? How..nice..”

When you were all sat down at the table, your aunt started,

“Two boys Y/N? You friends from school?” Your uncle interjected

“I recognize you Loomis. You better not be causing any trouble.” He practically growled. Billy just nodded.

Lots of apologies to your boys after.

“It’s alright baby, it was bound to happen,” Stu said, grabbing a beer from his fridge

“It’s alright puppy, the food was good,”

———————————————————————————-

J.D

Would genuinely probably be the politest to your parents and family,

Got to make a good impression!!

He’d stay close to you the entire time, making sure to show off who he was to you,

God don’t even get him started on his opinion on politics PLEASE..

I feel like he’s the type of guy that your parents would be nice to in person but when he leaves everyone’s like “he’s so weird?😀”

The type of guy to call older relatives ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’

Would hit the deserts HARD

“Sweetie your new boyfriend is very nice,” your grandma hums as you help with the dishes, he sits in the other room, arguing about politics.

“Yeah, he sure is something,”

“I’m very glad you could bring him,”

Your aunt walks in the room, shaking her head, “he’s really weird honey,” you looked at her with a confused facial expression, “I don’t know how to explain it. He’s just.. odd.”

———————————————————————————

Otis Driftwood

You’re eating dinner at his house. Nothing else.

——————————————————————————-

Baby Firefly

Would actually try to go to dinner with you if that’s what you really wanted.

Would probably make an okayish impression on your family,

They think she’s energetic and odd,

She knows…a lot,

I like to think that she does like domestic feelings, so she might actually love to go to your thanksgiving,

You’re holding her hand as you drive back to the firefly home, smiling as your stunning girlfriend rambles next to you.

“It was so fun! Thank you for taking me baby,”

“Of course,” you hun as she continues to speak very highly of the little tradition.

———————————————————————————-

Poly Lost Boys

Your parents are very thrown off when you tell them that Thanksgiving needs to be a little later than 1:00 this year because your boyfriends get off at 5:00.. (when it gets dark)

They are even more thrown off when four bikers walk in with mullets and frills and no manners at all.. well, the quiet one has manners.

David would try and make a good impression while keeping up his ‘I’m the top dog’ behavior.

Dwayne just wants to help out and actually make a good impression.

Marko will spend most of his time with any pets and Paul will follow in foot.

They house down food. It’s sort of embarrassing

Your parents are so thrown off it hurts.

“Sweetie where did you meet them again?” Your mom whispers to you from across the table,

“So, boys, what do you do for work?” Your father questioned, each boy having a way different reaction it looks suspicious.

Your parents just nod and try there best to get through the dinner.

After dinner it gets even worse, they’re all over you, touching and giving little kisses during conversation, right in front of your parents.. god it was going to be a long night.

———————————————————————————

Carrie White

Genuinely would do her best to come to your thanksgiving if her mama let her.

She’d be all dressed up and pretty, silently so excited that she gets to go to someone’s thanksgiving.

She’s so polite and quiet around your family,

If you all say grace, she’s an active part of it.

She’d be so flustered and happy to be there,

She thinks your family is so nice!!

You knock on the door of her house for her to rush down, saying goodbye to her mama. You would say hello to Mrs.White, but very uncomfortably.. you didn’t like Carrie’s Mama.

You smile upon seeing her. She looks so pretty.

“Hey darling, you look great,”

She blushed, looking down a little flustered, “thank you,”

You open the passenger door, letting her get in and closing it for her. She felt so nice, being treated so kindly. She’d remember this day for a while.

Please send me any slasher requests,

(Although I’m more prone to write for Billy & Stu at the moment)

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time | Chapter Fifteen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: You and Tommy head to the races.

Warning: language, assault (again, nothing explicit just not fun), death, ethnic slur

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 15: Left Hand Free

Well, your left hand’s free, and your right’s in grip, with another left hand, watch his right hand slip towards his gun. Oh, no.  – Left Hand Free, alt-J

What you knew about horse racing could be counted on exactly one hand. You knew there were horses. That their riders were jockeys. That rich people owned and trained the horses. That the fastest horse won. And that most of the horses had really weird names. 

That was it.  

You’d never been to a race. Hell, you weren’t even sure you’d even seen a real race on tv outside of movies or shows. 

The drive to the racetrack wasn’t long. You knew you were still in Birmingham, but that was the extent of your whereabouts. You pretty much stuck to Tommy’s side as the two of you entered the track, your eyes taking in all of your surroundings. 

“So,” you’d started as you made your way inside, “this is a Kimber track, yeah?” 

Tommy nodded, looking around slightly at the people around you. 

“And you said someone was giving him trouble?” you asked, this time a little softer. 

“Aye, the Lees,” he replied, more comfortable with your volume level. “They run Kimbers chalkers.” 

Your brow creased, “And that means?” 

“The men taking the bets. They gang up on them in the rouse of selling them chalk. Steal their money and leave them with a stick.” 

You hummed in understanding. Before you could ask any more, he distracted you by leading you through a side door and approached a man. He shook his hand and gave you both a tight nod as he opened the gate and let you through. Your feet met a floor of gravel and hay, and you realized you must be down in the stables. A row of stalls lined with horses caught your eye. 

“What do you think?” 

You turned back toward Tommy, brow knitted confused at his question. “Of the horses? They’re beautiful,” you replied. 

He looked down with an amused huff, the action reminding you of the black horse in front of you. “Yes, they are. But which do you think will win?” 

You nearly scoffed, “Pff, how should I know?” 

“Take your time.” 

You rose your brow, but he nodded toward the line up, the smirk on his face not yet convincing you that he was serious. But you took his challenge, starting from the end closest to you and moving slowly down the lineup. 

At first glance, they all looked the same to you aside from the color of their coats. They were big, intimidating creatures. But as you took a closer look, you began to see some differences. You began to weigh the pros and cons of size and muscle mass, whether that would make them faster or weigh them down. If taller horses could go farther distances than those with shorter legs. Soon you were even wondering if their hair ever got in their faces while they raced, and if that would eventually cause a problem. 

And yet still, you had absolutely no idea. 

When you reached the black horse again, he pushed his head over the railing and huffed, stomping his foot. You chuckled, reaching out to give him a pet. 

“I don’t know, Tommy. Does it even matter?” 

Tommy, who’d been watching you quietly at the end of the line, furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?” 

You shrugged, running your hands along the horse’s hair. “Aren’t all the races rigged?” 

He breathed out another amused scoff. “Not all of ‘em, love.” 

“That’s not fair, is it?” You asked the horse in the same voice you used on dogs. As if understanding you, the horse shook his head. “See, he agrees.” 

“These horses are up for sale. One of the dealers owes me, so he’s given me early access to take one off the lot.” He walked a few stalls down until he stood in front of a speckled beast, one on the larger end of the spectrum. “I was considering this one. He comes from good breeding and has a good chance to rank.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement, looking up at your horse. He blinked at you and leaned his head against your shoulder, causing you to stumble a little and laugh. “I like this one. He’s got a little attitude.” 

Tommy made his way back to you, his hands in his pockets as he reexamined your horse. “Attitude doesn’t make for good competitors. We want a winner.” 

“Well, you’ve got attitude,” you teased while keeping your focus on the horse. 

“And what does that mean?” He asked, turning all his attention now on you. 

As you met his eyes, you could tell his cheeks were fighting off the smile that his eyes conveyed as he peered down at you. The sight of it made you smirk as you turned your body toward him. “Are you planning to lose?” 

You watched those pale blues move between each of your eyes before dropping to your lips. “Not today.” 

You pulled your lip between your teeth before you replied with, “Neither will he.”

“Hmm,” the battle against his cheek muscles finally lost as he matched your smirk with one of his own, looking back finally toward the horse. “Well, he won’t be racing today, anyhow. None of these horses here will. They’re just prepping for the auction.” Tommy clicked his tongue and the horse turned his attention toward him. He reached out and pet him, “You are a beautiful beast.” 

You smiled as you watched him press his forehead against the horse’s, his voice low as he talked kindly to him. 

“How about a bet?” He asked, this time to you. “We go upstairs and watch the races. We each place a bet. If your horse wins, I’ll buy this boy here. If yours doesn’t win, I’ll buy my first choice.”

“So it’s me against everyone else? That hardly seems fair,” you said with a chuckle before pausing. “Hold on, you said we both place a bet. What if your horse does win?” 

Tommy rose a challenging brow, “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Again, not fair,” you pressed. 

“That’s the weight of gambling, love. You want the horse?” He nodded to the black horse who was nudging you for attention again. “That’s the cost of your faith.”

“Should we do it?” You asked the horse, giving it your most serious face. He neighed playfully, causing you to giggle. “I may not know a thing about horses, but I know a keeper when I see one. Deal.” 

You shook Tommy’s hand, very reminiscent of that first night in the Garrison when you played your first game. He smiled as he squeezed your hand, telling you to say goodbye to the beast before pulling you back toward the crowds of people. 

——

Tommy’s horse won. 

“You knew,” you demanded, nudging a laughing Tommy as he led you down the corridor with the rest of the drone of people. “I’m never gambling again.”

“I did say I wasn’t going to lose today, didn’t I?” He countered. 

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled again, leading you to the bar and grabbing two champagne flutes. 

“Maybe that’s what you should do,” you quipped, taking a sip of your drink, “fix races.” 

“Now, now — that would be illegal.” 

You chuckled, the drink calming you slightly as the room began to fill with dancing. Ever since you and Tommy left the stables and joined the rest of the crowd, you’d begun to feel uneasy. 

At first you thought it was the crowd itself. Even in your own time, you hadn’t been the biggest fan of high-traffic places. The chaos of it all caused you anxiety, especially when it was a place you weren’t familiar with. And while this place wasn’t anything like some concerts or sporting events you’d attended, it was still a whole group of strangers who knew what they were doing far better than you did. 

On top of that, you felt yourself revert slightly back to how you felt when you first arrived at Small Heath. Like everyone could tell you didn’t belong, that you were different. You could feel yourself trying to hide, much like you had in the first few months of being here. 

Though this time, you had Tommy. 

That reassurance for some reason made you feel a little more comfortable. And yet, here again, as you stood on the outskirts of the dance floor, an anxious chill ran down your spine. 

“Remember what I taught you?” 

Tommy’s question pulled you back to yourself. You met his eyes, sparkling uncharacteristically as he gestured toward the dance floor, offering his hand to you. 

You smiled, forgetting your uneasiness for a moment and letting him pull you. This time, when he wrapped his arm around you, you didn’t take your eyes away from his as he took the lead. And surprisingly, you did remember a good bit of what he (and Johnny Dogs) had taught you that night with the Delphi. 

“A bit different than a gypsy camp, eh?” He jested. 

You shrugged, “I mean, besides the attempted assault, I kind of preferred it. This all feels a little, I don’t know… staged. There it felt,” you met his eyes, “real.” 

His eyes moved down to your lips again as you felt his grip at your back tighten. 

You heard someone call for him, demanding his attention behind you. 

He huffed slightly before turning back toward you. “Will you be alright without me for a moment? It’s time for me to go collect my horse.” 

You nodded as he promised not to be long and found yourself on the outskirts of the room, grabbing another flute. 

The band wrapped up their song as the MC took the mic and introduced the players. With all eyes forward, you gasped as you felt a hand wrap around your arm. 

“Not a sound,” a gravelly voice whispered against your ear, “or this blade goes in all the way.” 

You suppressed a whimper at the sharp tip pressed against your waist, the hand around you tightening. The band roared to life again as the room jumped back into formation, giving the stranger behind you an opportunity to pull you backwards and through the back doorway. 

Squinting into the daylight, the man who’d grabbed you pushed you forward, causing you to stumble into the empty alleyway. 

“Tsk tsk, Tommy should have known better.” 

Your eyes adjusted to see another man walking toward you, gasping slightly when you recognized him. “Benji–”

“Shut up!” He smacked you across the face, sending you backwards. You caught yourself on the ground, chancing to look back up and clutching your bag. 

The door flew open with a frantic Tommy. He ran toward you, lifting you up. “Y/N, you alright?”

Benji chuckled darkly, “The great Thomas Shelby,” he taunted. “Did you think I was going to let that bitch get away with stitching me up? After everything I did for you— for your family! I was a Peaky fucking Blinder!” 

“You tried to steal from us, and you got caught. You know what we do to those who double cross us, Hancock,” Tommy said calmly, trying to subtly position his body between you and the two other men.

“Well, now you’ll get to see what I do to those who threaten me!”

Tommy pushed you backwards just as he grabbed for his gun. You hit the wall as you heard a shot, then the sound of one of the men running toward Tommy, tackling him to the ground and knocking his gun away. Quickly, you reached within your purse and grabbed Polly’s handgun. In an instance, all the training your father had instilled in you came back as you turned, your gun ready. 

The man who had grabbed you was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Benji had Tommy by the hair and a blade to his throat, Tommy’s gun kicked to the side. 

“Drop it, Benji!”

He pressed it harder, enough for blood to begin to trickle down his skin. “The only thing this bastard understands is blood and money. You think he cares about you? Nah, love. You’re just another pawn in his payroll, just like the rest of us.” 

Tommy snarled, struggling against his hold.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for years,” Benji said, emphasizing the word in Tommy’s ears. “First I’m going to finish you, then I’m going to take my time with her.” 

“Let him go!” 

Benji laughed, “What do you think, Tommy boy? Think she has the guts?”

You shared a look with Tommy, who barely nodded before pushing away from Benji’s grasp. Not a second to waste, you pulled the trigger. 

—-

Your hands were still shaking by the time you and Tommy returned to Small Heath. You attempted to calm them by playing with the tattered hem of your dress, but it was just another reminder of the horrible events that’d just occurred. You looked over toward Tommy, the strip of your dress wrapped around his neck to stop the bleeding from Benji’s blade when he’d pushed him away. 

“This is why.” 

Aside from some reassurances that each other were okay (physically), the two of you had been relatively silent for most of the evening. So Tommy’s words made your brow furrow as you questioned him. 

“You wanted to know why I pushed you away— what was the phrase you used?” 

“Ghost. I said you ghosted me,” you replied, slightly amused despite your seriousness to the conversation. 

“This is why. I was worried about putting you in this exact situation. When I couldn’t find you in the hall tonight, I–” he shook his head. “Death seems to come for everyone but me, and I can’t bare to think of you dying because of me–” 

“What happened back there wasn’t because of you,” you rationalized. “He was coming after me. If it hadn’t been for me, you’d be safe–” 

“But you were only in that situation because of us. As long as you work for us, you’ll never be safe.�� He took a deep breath and met your eyes. “Though I’m a little less worried about you being able to protect yourself now. Where did you get the gun?” 

“Polly.” 

He scoffed, “Figures.” 

You looked down at the gun, sitting on top of your bag in between you and Tommy on the seat.

You’d killed someone. It’d felt like an almost out of body experience, watching yourself pull the trigger, and the bullet flying through into another man’s chest, ending his life.

Shaking, you took the gun and shoved it back into your bag. 

Tommy pulled over and moved your bag, pulling you across the bench and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry you had to do that. It’s never easy, deciding to take a life.” 

Despite the tears that’d begun to fall as soon as Tommy pulled you in, you sniffed and shook your head. “I’m not sorry,” you surprised yourself. He let go of you enough to see your face as you continued. “He wasn’t going to stop. He was going to hurt me, he was going to hurt you.” You swallowed hard, nearly afraid to say your next thoughts out loud. “I would do it again to protect you, or your family.” 

Tommy watched you as you said your words carefully. Instead of responding, he lifted your chin to meet him and kissed you. 

It was dark when you returned to town. Tommy said he had a couple more items to take care of that night and asked if you wanted him to drop you off. You declined, asking if you could accompany him. Truthfully, you didn’t want to be alone after the events of the day. He seemed to understand and agreed, telling you that he needed to drop the car off at the Yard and check on an expected delivery.

“Evening, Miss,” Charlie greeted you, with Curly offering a big smile as you and Tommy drove into the Yard. 

“My delivery?” Tommy asked as he helped you down from the car. 

“Aye, this way.” 

You followed the trio through the yard as the rain began to fall lightly. Luckily, Ada had forced you to purchase a hat to go along with your outfit tonight, keeping the rain away from your face. You were wrapping Tommy’s jacket around you tighter as they approached a huge crate. 

“Geeze, what’s in there?” 

Tommy didn’t answer you as he examined the crate, his brow creased. “This isn’t right. Crowbar?” 

Curly and Charlie opened the crate and pulled out one of the many smaller crates inside. He lifted the item inside and your mouth involuntarily fell. 

“Tommy, that’s—”

“A machine gun.” 

The three men looked at each other, equally as dumbfounded as you felt. 

“Thought you said these were supposed to be motor bikes and petrol?” Charlie asked Tommy. 

“They were. Must have picked up the wrong fuckin’ crate.” He looked at the crate for a moment as you watched, curious what was going through his mind. 

“Tom,” Charlie said cautiously. “This says it’s destined for Lybia. This is– what are we going to do?”

Tommy took a deep breath and finally turned back toward his men. “Get it out of the rain. Put it in the stables for now.” 

“In the stables– you can’t be serious–” 

“That’s what we’re going to do for now. You, me, and Y/N are going to inventory the crate. Curly, prepare for a new horse.” 

—-

A week went by, and you hadn’t said a peep about the crate sitting in Charlie Strong’s Yard. The crate bound for Lybia that contained 25 Lewis machine guns, 10,000 rounds of ammunition, 50 semiautomatic rifles, and 200 pistols with shells. Tommy had sworn you all to secrecy, even from Polly. 

So when Tommy invited you to the Yard after an early shift, you were slightly nervous. 

“Thought you’d want to meet the newest Shelby racehorse,” Tommy finally said when you got to the stables. 

Honestly, you’d completely forgotten all about the horse Tommy had purchased at the races with all the other stuff going on. Between the sleepless nights dreaming of a gun in your hands, and the looming sword of those rifles hanging over your head, you felt like you’d collapse if one more disaster struck. 

But instead, you were pleasantly surprised when you walked through the arch to see the black horse you’d befriended at the track. 

“Hey,” you greeted sweetly as you began to pet him. He neighed a greeting to you before pushing his nose against your shoulder. “What is this, Tommy? You won the bet.” 

He shrugged. “I changed my mind. He has his first race Monday. I’m going to take him down to Garrison Lane tomorrow.” 

“Why?” 

“Gonna have a Chinese woman do the powder trick. Apparently she’s a fortune teller as well,” he smirked at you, causing you to roll your eyes. “Whether it’s true or not, it’ll convince everyone to place bets on him.” 

You still didn’t completely understand, but you went with it. “Will he win?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good,” you smiled up at the horse. “What did you decide to name him?” 

“Monaghan Boy.” 

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

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[once-in-a-blood-moon]

Jooooo!!! Hiya!!!! Can i request solomon + tell no lie? I just think this prompt kinda suits him lmao. Lots of love!! 🫶🫶🫶

Solomon - Tell No Lie

Solomon x GN! reader

Prompt: It’s impossible to lie to your soulmate.

AN: Hi Ven!!! Much love to you as well!! 💜 Sorry for the delay, but anyways this is kind of a silly fic based on a thought I had of Solomon sometime ago, and thought it worked well with the prompt...or at least I hope it did 😅 I really hope you enjoy it! Thank you for being patient and take care of yourself!!

Warnings: Solomon referring to reader as dear, darling, and beautiful, Solomon being Solomon shenanigans (I promise!), slight miscommunication but nothing angsty, established soulmate connection/relationship

Another stressful day babysitting the Avatars of Sin, you can hardly wait to go back to Cocytus Hall where it’s significantly more peaceful and quiet…as long as Solomon hasn’t snuck into the kitchen while you were away. 

You have your D.D.D. up to your ear as you wait for the sorcerer to pick up, wanting to let him know you’re on your way and that Lucifer is escorting you this evening. You hear the faint shut of the door behind you as Lucifer joins you out under the front awning, staying quiet as he notices your ear-to-phone stance. 

The phone goes to the last ring, and you don’t think Solomon’s going to pick up – which is odd because normally he picks up in less than two if it’s you – but he does at the last second, sounding as carefree as ever. 

“Ah, hello, my dear. Ready to come back home?” 

“Yeah, though Lucifer offered to walk me back,” you reply, giving Lucifer a quick appreciative grin, which he returns as he waits patiently beside you, “we’re just leaving now.” 

The sorcerer hums softly. “I see. I’ve…had something come up, so that works out perfectly then.” You pick up his nervous tone with ease and know automatically something’s troubling him.

“...Is everything okay?” You know that a question like that is his weakness. Really…any and all of your questions are his weakness. They’re inescapable, unavoidable, and you like that you can use that to your advantage often. 

He answers a hair too quickly, probably hoping you won’t interrogate him further, while still being truthful. “Yeah! Yes. Everything is great, I think.” 

“Uh-huh… So, what is this “something,” Solomon?” 

There’s a delay in the answering this time. You can almost even hear him trying to physically restrain himself from saying anything, but it’s no use. He cannot lie to you – not that he likes to anyway, but there are things better left unsaid sometimes. 

Solomon sighs into the phone as the truth pushes past his lips, “I have a kid...” 

To say you are dumbfounded is an understatement. You’re silent for longer than is comfortable, blinking slowly and unable to formulate any questions. Once you gather yourself, you fill your lungs as you try to grapple with what he just said. 

“I’m sorry… What?!” The alarm in your voice is quite apparent, causing Lucifer to glance over in worry, wondering if he should get involved or not. 

On the other side of the line, there’s some crashing sounds and light scolding from Solomon that’s hard to make out. It seems he’s holding the phone away from him. He soon brings the phone back to his ear with words coming out in a rushed flurry. 

“I need to go, I’ll see you when you get back home!” Before you even get the chance, the sorcerer hangs up on you, and you’re left just as clueless as you started. You pocket your phone, your body tense and thoughts nervous for what you’re about to go home to. 

Lucifer picks up on this as the both of you start your way towards the iron-wrought gate. “Is everything alright?” 

You sigh in response, shaking your head as you try to sort out the conversation in your head. “Honestly…I have no idea.” 

Due to how shocked and concerned you are, with millions of questions buzzing in your head, the walk to Cocytus Hall is silent. You also feel your heart in the pit of your stomach as you wonder what this means for Solomon and yourself. Lucifer doesn’t prod you any further, which you’re thankful for because what are you supposed to tell him? 

Once you arrive, you thank Lucifer for escorting you before heading directly inside to see for yourself just what the hell is happening. 

The first thing you notice upon entering is the odd smell wafting throughout the hall. It doesn’t smell anything like the chemical warfare Solomon cooks up in the kitchen with its distinct odor, so that’s at least a relief. You venture further in, making your way to the common room to see if the sorcerer is there. 

Your foot crosses the threshold, but pauses mid-step as your eyes land on something black and fuzzy laying on the couch. 

“Me-e-eh.” 

“What the-” you start, but you recognize the sound of footsteps approaching from behind and you quickly glance over your shoulder to see Solomon with a little metal bowl filled with water. His eyes are trained on the bowl, simultaneously lost in his thoughts while making sure not to spill any, so when you clear your throat to get his attention, his head snaps up instantly.

He plasters on a cheerful smile which reaches his eyes upon seeing you home. “Welcome home, darling.” 

You say nothing, now standing with your arms crossed as you stare at him with a blank expression as if waiting for him to explain why there is a baby goat sitting on the couch. Solomon lets out a sheepish chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck, indicating that he knows you know now.

“What do you think? He’s cute, no?” 

“He’s cute, alright…” you pause, taking a peek at the little thing which is staring back at you in curiosity. You turn back to Solomon. “Is this the “kid” you mentioned earlier?” 

A beat of silence passes between you two before he replies, “...yes.” 

Your brows knit together so hard you might just start knitting a sweater with them. “Solomon, why didn’t you just tell me it was a baby goat? Wouldn’t that have been, oh I don’t know, simpler? I thought something else was going on!”

His eyes dart from yours to the bowl in his hands, feeling a bit ashamed of himself for worrying you so much. “I suppose so, but I didn’t lie to you. He is technically a kid.” 

The sound of tiny hooves clicking against the wood floor draws your attention back to the goat, who trots its way over to the two of you, looking almost expectantly at Solomon. He smiles softly as he crouches down to set the bowl of water before the small creature. 

“Here you go, little guy.” The goat sniffs at the bowl, inspecting it, before tentatively lapping at the cool, fresh water within. Solomon reaches a hand out and gently strokes its fuzzy back, gazing at it fondly. It seems the two have already bonded. You almost can’t be mad with how cute this scene is to you. 

A little smile tugs at your lips as you start again. “Where did he come from?” 

Solomon glances back up to you. “Would you believe me if I told you I honestly just found him wandering around down here in the street?”  

“I kinda have to. You can’t lie to me.” 

He chuckles in response. “Indeed I cannot. Though, you can’t lie to me either, my beautiful soulmate.” 

“Hey, you can’t just throw some sweet words my way and think you can get away with this. You really had me spooked earlier,” a faint chuckle weaves its way through your words, finding this whole thing ridiculous. Still, you can’t deny how flattered you are, because you know it’s the truth. 

He truly does see you that way. 

“I know, I know. Flattery will get me nowhere… But you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he says as he shrugs with a hint of a smirk. “Anyways, I plan on looking into some notable farms in the human realm and contacting them to see if any of them are interested in taking him. He can’t stay here, unfortunately, as this wouldn’t be a sustainable life for him. But for now, he’s ours.” Solomon stands to full height and snakes his arms around your waist. 

You grin as your hands come up to rest along his shoulders. “Ours?” 

Solomon chuckles softly with a nod. “Yes,” he pauses for a moment, glancing down at the little goat who looks back up at him and “mehs” at him loudly. “I’ll think I’ll even let you name him.” 

[ladykailitha]

Soft 2 of 2

And finally part 2! I haven't written more on Grief because guess who got an ear infection over the weekend? If you guessed me, you'd be correct! Who knew that symptoms included neck pain, headaches and sore throat...yeah...

Also I should probably warn for smut. Under 18 you've been officially warned.

Part 1

***

Eddie was vibrating out of his skin when his present was finally ready. It had taken a week and his excitement bubbled out all of the place.

He had already preformed his bet pay out. Jeff was positively gleeful about the whole thing.

Jeff and the rest of his band were even more gleeful about Eddie’s surprise for Steve. More than once one or more of them expressed their desire to see the look on Steve’s face when he realized what Eddie had done for them.

They only stopped when Eddie told them that if everything went to plan then they’d probably would be having sex right after.

And since none of them wanted to see that part, they stopped teasing him about seeing the first part.

He walked into the apartment that afternoon like he always did, jaunty and carefree. Jeff had whined several times that Eddie spent more time at Steve and Robin’s place then he did their own.

Robin was bopping to her music in the kitchen and Steve was on the sofa watching a game show of some sort.

“Eddie!” Steve greeted.

Eddie grinned. “Looking good, Stevie. I’m glad you head is feeling better now.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks for stopping by so that Robin wouldn’t worry about me.”

“It was no trouble,” he said. “You needed looking after and I was more than happy to be of service.”

He pulled something out of inner pocket of his leather jacket and handed it to Steve.

“I wanted to get you a little something as thank you for the chain and picks you got me.”

Steve frowned. “You didn’t have to do that, Eds. I like buying things for you.”

He said it so easily, as if that didn’t make Eddie’s heart speed up faster then anything caused by his nervousness.

He opened the box and pulled out a pair of light blue sunglasses, so clear that you could see in and out with a relative ease.

“Oh, Eddie...” Steve murmured. “They’re gorgeous.”

“They’re your prescription,” Eddie explained. “Which means you can’t wear you contacts when you have them on.” He tapped the space between Steve’s eyes.

“Wait, really?” Steve murmured. “What? How?”

Eddie tapped the side of his nose. “That’s my secret. But I remembered that your senior year of high school you were wearing sunglasses all the time. Everyone thought you were being too cool. But none of the teachers said anything. So it got me thinking...you wore them because you needed to, didn’t you? Too many concussions made you sensitive to light.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit! I didn’t realize anyone noticed.”

“And I bet I know why you stopped wearing them,” Eddie continued. “It’s because Scoops wouldn’t let you and then you would just forget to put them on the rest of the time.”

Robin tapped Steve’s shoulder and pressed something into his hand. He opened it to find his contact case.

“But I–” he protested and she handed him the bottle of solution. He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

He took out his contacts and carefully put them away. He handed them back to Robin.

He pulled the glasses out their case and put them on. They fit perfectly.

“The frames are the same style as your regular glasses,” Eddie said. “You can wear them all the time or just when you know you’re going to be in a situation where there are a lot of lights. Say...a certain band’s metal concert.” He winked at Steve.

Steve let out a giggle. “They’re amazing, Eds. I love them.”

“Looking good, dingus,” Robin said affectionately. She kissed his cheek. “I’m heading out. Please no sex on the sofa. I have to sit there too.”

She waved by to Eddie and then slammed the door behind her.

Steve blushed furiously. “We aren’t even dating…” he pouted.

“Yet.”

Steve’s head shot up. “Wha’?”

“We aren’t dating yet, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. “Robin and my band both think this little trinket,” he plucked at the necklace around his neck, “is a declaration of true love. Are they right?”

Steve ducked his head again, pursing his lips. “Yeah, Eds. Of course it is.”

Eddie tapped the glasses. “Back atcha, big boy.”

Steve raised his head again, this time much slower. “You really mean that?”

Eddie gently pulled Steve closer and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut, melting into the kiss. Eddie leaned backward onto the sofa, Steve following to keep pressing their lips together in kiss after kiss.

Eddie tenderly removed the glasses and set them on the table before he resumed kissing Steve. The pace slow and languid. Just the two of them exploring each other’s mouths and bodies. Not really heading toward sex, just feeling the euphoria of finally getting together.

Soon they drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

They woke a couple hours later, to an alarm on Eddie’s watch going off.

Steve looked up at Eddie blearily and still soft from sleep. “Wha’?”

“Hey beautiful,” he cooed. “We have a dinner reservation at seven, it’s now five. Go get yourself a shower and change so we can go, okay?”

Steve smiled. “Okay, baby.” He kissed Eddie and then deftly rolled off the couch onto the floor.

Eddie smacked his ass as he passed. “Show off.”

“For you?” Steve said. “Always.”

Eddie blushed.

*

“Hey, Eddie!” Steve called from his room. “Can you come here a moment?”

Eddie hopped to his feet and was at Steve’s door to his bedroom in a flash. “What’s up, dar–” he stopped when he saw Steve standing in the middle of his room, dripping wet with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

Eddie gulped.

Steve must have realized his state of undress, because he blushed furiously. “I, um... couldn’t remember what you were wearing and didn’t want to be too overdressed for dinner.”

Eddie grinned. “You sure, sweetheart? Because this looks like a ploy to get me into that bed of yours.”

Steve looked up through his eyelashes, coy. “Well...if you’re interested, I could make it about that if you prefer.”

He removed the towel and dried himself off. The towel just barely covered his modesty as he dragged it over his body.

Eddie’s mouth dried with it.

And then towel dropped and Eddie was faced with the reality of a naked Steve Harrington.

He drank in his fill, eyes darting across every line, every plain, every freckle.

“You like what you see, babe?” Steve purred. He took a couple steps back and threw himself on the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked over at Eddie through half-lidded eyes.

Eddie licked his lips. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart. I just have to do two things and then I will happily join you in the bed.”

Steve grinned. “Hurry back.”

Eddie nodded and ran out to the front room. He locked the front door, and then quickly called the restaurant to cancel their reservation. Screw dinner, Eddie was going straight for dessert.

He walked back into Steve’s room to find him with hands tucked behind his head, pulling his already taut body longer.

He kicked off his sneakers first and then pulled off his shirt. Steve watched him strip with eyes blown wide and lips slick from licking them.

Eddie grinned. He dragged out pulling down his zipper, nice and slow. He saw Steve’s Adam’s apple bob. He took off his pants and was standing in front of the bed with just his underwear on.

“Babe,” Steve moaned. “Let me see. Please.”

And who was Eddie to deny Steve anything. He pulled off his boxers, dropping them to floor.

Steve reached out and Eddie went willingly into his boyfriend’s arms.

Like with their languid kissing on the couch, this too was slow and tender. Mapping each other’s bodies with their hands, their lips, their tongues.

Soon they were coming and they laid next to each other, covered in cum and giggling like children.

“I can now confirm that the rumors about your prowess in bed is absolutely not a myth but a god damn fucking legend,” Eddie breathed, his hands draped over his belly as his willed his heart rate back to normal.

Steve laughed. “Well, you’re certainly no slouch in the bedroom either, sunshine.”

Eddie sat up and started scanning the room for the towel.

“Where are you going?” Steve whined. “I want to cuddle with my boyfriend.”

Eddie chuckled. “Just grabbing the towel to clean us up, princess.”

Steve hummed and he took that as permission to get the towel. He grabbed it and cleaned himself off first before using it on Steve. He tossed it into the laundry basket.

Steve curled up into his side. “Hey, I thought throwing things into laundry baskets was my job.”

Eddie chuckled. “Oh it is.”

“Let’s make a deal,” Steve said sleepily. “You stick to the guitar playing rocker, and I stick to the throwing things in laundry baskets.”

Eddie laugh out loud. “Yeah, baby. We can do that.”

Steve snuggled closer. “Good.”

Later they would get up and dressed. They would order pizza and watch trash movies on late night TV.

And when Robin came home that night, she found the two of them curled up on the couch, asleep again in each other’s arms.

She grabbed a blanket off the back of the armchair and draped over them.

“I’m happy for you dinguses,” she said softly into the still room and then went to bed, content her soulmate had found his person at last.

***

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[itshype]

Navigate any storm, with nothing but the stars to guide you (DC x DP)

Hello! My other dc x dp notfic blew up overnight so here’s another one (this is not a part 2 but here is the link to Kingmaker, Kingbreaker, Crowntaker, Realmshaker where Danny is an important political ghost figure)

So, there are only a few Astronaut!Danny fics and most of them don’t quite land with me. They’re really good, but a lot of them have Danny getting his job at NASA because of his ghost powers. And like, nothing about Danny’s arc/s ever hints to me that he would show up to a government agency and give them a full rundown of his abilities – even for his dream job.

So instead of a protection-obsessed Danny, his Obsession develops as wanting to go to space. So, he’ll still fight the ghosts because he’s not a psycho with no regard for human life, but these fights aren’t a priority to him the same way in canon. Instead, Danny fights a lot dirtier, goes to 10 a lot faster – instead of it being a rarely used ability, his go-to is the Ghostly Wail in round one of a fight because it’ll get everything over nice and quick. He needs great grades to even enter the space program let alone astronaut training.

Because of this, Danny isn’t getting involved in problems just because ghosts are involved.

Did he turn the portal on for the first time? Yes.

Is it his responsibility because his parents refuse to add security or even just turn it off when not in use? Absolutely not!

There’ll definitely be a short-term dip in Danny’s grades but he plays up the “I was in a lab accident” thing to his school (actually more like he just didn’t cover it up) and can get extra credit or whatever (in Australia they’d just ignore the assignments you missed/failed and make your average from everything else but Teen Wolf fics often go on about extra credit so lets whack that in for Cultural Authenticity). But after that, Danny only gets involved if it’s getting really dangerous out there because he can’t skip this test/miss this homework etc.

Because of this, Phantom would probably be a lot more popular. Instead of running around and chasing ghosts and causing damage, he shows up like a Deus ex Machina when people are terrified, and lives are at risk. Downside is probably that Amity calls him Invis-o-bill for a while longer – he still wants to go by Phantom but correcting people isn’t his priority.

Also, his obsession makes his crush for Paulina turn off because I never found that a fun storyline. Also, when he gets in trouble for Dash’s bad behaviour he fights back against Dash and/or the teachers because “There’s a new documentary about theoretical White Holes tonight and our DVR gained sentience and ran off, so I have to watch it live.”

Downside of all these great changes? Jazz. In canon it takes ages for Danny to find out she saw his death-event. But in this, Danny’s personality changes are a lot more evident and drastic. I still don’t think the parents would suspect anything because my opinion of them is so far down it popped out of the other side of the Earth and spun off into the cosmos.

Jazz wants to be a psychologist. ‘Drastic changes in behaviour and personality’ are the early warning signs for hundreds of things from bipolar disorder, to drugs, to schizophrenia, sexual assault or joining a gang. She would be less likely to blow this off I think than in canon where his personality changes can be explained a lot more easily with “moody teen being taught by teachers who are on the bully’s side.” She figures out what’s happening a lot earlier. She doesn’t love that her baby brother is a ghostly hero, but his grades are great and it’s pretty hard to say “No you should let the town be destroyed and get a part-time job instead.”

So then, when the GIW come to town to try and set up, everyone is like “oh yeah, sure, go for it, except for Phantom, he’s our little meow meow.”

The GIW try to attack him anyway and the responding retaliation from Casper high students and most adults is so violent and extreme that the GIW mark the town as being completely 100% possessed with the hopes that they’ll get carte blanche to attack anyone they want in Amity (mostly because they’re petty manchildren).

However, declaring open season on an entire town is a bit much and all this ecto-nonsense is pretty new so the fear hasn’t 100% set into the administration. So instead, the President contacts the Justice League who call in the Justice League Dark (the magic department of the Justice League).

They’re probably freaked out but then Oracle finds footage of the ‘Possession attack on government agents’ from a security camera or something and Constantine is immediately like “None of those people are possessed, hope that helps, I have to go I’m late for a booty call with Beelzebub.”

MEANWHILE!!! Jazz has started coming to fights when she can (dressed like a real Fenton ghosthunter – Dad is so proud) and loudly announcing their insecurities because we know that psychic damage can actually cause ghosts to physically change (i.e. when Cujo is threatened he goes Big, when Spectra is satiated she appears more human, Amorpho’s whole thing). Within weeks, the less-evil ghosts want to make deals. I mean skulker and walker probably won’t want to concede, but the others get day-passes from the ghost zone like:

Ember can throw a concert and hypnotise everyone attending or streaming online but she has to let them go when the show is over.

Maybe Kitty can possess Jazz for a few hours for a date, or Tucker can build her a robot body assuming ghosts that aren’t Technus, master of all technology can possess electronics if they want to.

Eventually, Danny goes “Why is coming here so important, why do you go to so much effort and constraints to leave the Ghost Zone?”

And that’s when he finds out that the Ghost Zone is a ruthless, desolate place that’s awful and dangerous.

So, he calls the Justice League (Tucker gets him the number and he dials right into the Watchtower PA). And he essentially goes:

“I am Phantom, bridge between worlds. The ghosts of Amity Park were interfering with my Ghostly Dream and I have recently discovered that this is because the Infinite Realms is a sucky place to be. Can you fix it?”

The Justice League are thinking ‘wow two birds one stone and we get free amazing publicity!’ Then they talk to Constantine for two-point-five seconds, and he is all “It’s infinite, you morons, you can’t patch it up one villain at a time. Anyways I have to go sell my soul to a sixth party to prevent a magical demon war, peace out.”

So then, the Justice League are in Amity and tell Phantom that they’re very sorry but what he asked isn’t really feasible. And immediately they figure out that something is slightly off.

Now I stand by my headcanon that the Justice League wouldn’t immediately figure out Danny’s secret because there’s no real reason to think a ghost would have a secret identity.  But just speaking to any of the halfas you can tell they’re different. Less obsessive, don’t go violent as fast etc.

Now, just because they don’t realise Danny is 50% human, does not mean they did no research. They looked him up and came across historical records made during his time travel jaunts and immediately reach the fairly reasonable conclusion that he’s special, more powerful and more human because he’s just that old. So they ask him why the ghost zone is like that and if it could be changed or fixed – even just a small portion of it for use by less aggressive ghosts.

Danny admits he has no idea, but they could all go find out because it was Sunday. None of the Justice League know why the day is relevant but through the combined powers of Sam, Tucker and Jazz, they manage to get his parents onto the other side of town while they enter the ghost zone.

They quickly find Ghost Writer, because he’s an under-utilised character. He explains that long, long ago the ghost zone was a much brighter place with a golden sunrise sky and an overflowing font of ectoplasm under the rule of the powerful King of the Infinite Realms – Inferna the Bright. But he was brutally overtaken by the disgusting Pariah Dark. Inferna never recovered and the entire zone changed, becoming dark and harsh like her master whose obsession was subjugation. Pariah was sealed away, but by a large group instead of in single combat. So technically he was still at the helm of the entire dimension.

If only there was another ghost, brave and powerful enough to defeat Pariah Dark. One strong enough to bear the helm of the Crown of Fire. One with an obsession that would transform the ghost realm into a place of wonder once more.

If only…

(TBC??)

(IN CASE IT WASN’T OBVIOUS, each King makes one artifact: Inferna was obsessed with the Sun but expressed it healthily, Pariah Dark was obsessed with winning and beating other people and expressed it terribly)

Also, fyi Inferna doesn’t just sound like Inferno but is also Latin for the Underworld, so the implication is that they were king for FOREVER before Pariah.