#and how much does she already know is a lost cause

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Domestic Violence, Language, mention of death

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309. In this story the reader is a widow who has a 4 year old daughter. She’s dating a very abusive man, so she enrolls her daughter in preschool to keep her as shielded as possible. At the preschool we find her daughter has made friends with a set of twins. At pick up one day the reader realizes the parent of her daughter’s best friend is none other than Jensen Ackles. A friendship forms, and decisions are made after a particularly nasty fight with her boyfriend. 

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.

*This chapter sets up the story-it’s a bit long due to this.*

Minors DNI 18+

You sat on the side of your bed rubbing your arm, trying to get the sting of the pain to go away. Another night, another argument with Robert, your boyfriend. You’d only been dating about 9 months, and at first everything seemed perfect. You felt the sting of the tears fill your eyes 

Knowing how much he hated when you cried, you fought to keep them at bay. Crying after he hit you only made things worse. You were thankful, however, your four year old daughter, Jazmyne was already in bed. 

You did your best to keep her shielded from the violence that plagued your life now. Your late husband, Josh, was a kind, gentle man. He wouldn’t lift a hand to you and was an amazing father to Jazmyne. Josh was so gentle that if a spider got into the house he’d scoop it up and carry it outside. He died unexpectedly after a workplace accident. Your heart was irrevocably broken when the two of you lost him. 

Now Robert was in your lives. You met him at a house party and he swept you off your feet. The first time he hit you, the two of you were arguing and things got heated quickly. Then he slapped you across your face, drawing blood from your mouth. You made him leave and told him it was over. 

For almost a month you kept him at bay. Then loneliness, apologies and manipulation took over. You took him back. Things were fine, and then a switch flipped again. 

The latest fight was over dinner. You’d come home late from work and he was mad because dinner was late. After picking Jazmyne up at your friend’s house you decided to stop and grab a pizza. When you got home, he was there and became angry when he saw the pizza box.

“What the fuck is that?” He growled as he motioned to the box. “It’s dinner, and I’ve asked you not to use that language in front of my daughter.” He stepped closer to you and grabbed your chin hard, “I’ll talk however the fuck I want you stupid bitch!” You jerked your face away and set the box down. 

Looking at Jazmyne you spoke softly, “Go play while mommy gets your dinner ready, okay?” Your beautiful little girl nodded and bounded down the hall to her room. 

You grabbed a plate for your toddler and started to cut up her slice of pizza. “You’re a lazy fucking whore, you know that. What kind of mother doesn’t cook for her family?” You ignored him and kept getting Jazmyne’s food ready. 

He grabbed your arm hard, pulling you around to face him and causing you to drop her plate. “Don’t you fucking ignore me. I asked you a question.” “Robert, I’m not in the mood to fight with you. I think you should leave. I’m exhausted and I need to get Jazzy ready for dinner and bed. I don’t have time to deal with this.”

You tried to pull your arm out of his grip, but it was too tight. “Let me the fuck go!” You yelled. 

Robert got in your face, his eyes dark with anger, “I’ll let you go when I feel like it. You belong to ME!” He let go of you, grabbed some food and went to sit in the living room. You walked towards Jazmyne’s room and found her crying.

You ran in and got on the floor, “Oh baby, what’s wrong?” “He hurt mommy.” She softly said. You scooped her up and held her tight, knowing you needed to make a change before it was too late. “I’m okay baby girl, I promise. Let’s go eat our pizza and we can play with your new bath paint tonight.” 

She smiled wide and nodded. You took her into the kitchen, put her at the table and got her a piece of pizza. You cut her slice and grabbed you one too. You noticed she kept looking towards Robert and you could see the fear in her eyes. You knew exactly what you needed to do. 

After dinner, you got Jazmyne in the tub and she played with her new bath paint. She talked about her new friends at preschool and how much fun they were. You had recently put her in preschool to help her socialize and to shield her from the crap between you and Robert. 

“So, Jazzy, what are their names?” You asked her as she excitedly talked about her new friends. “Arrow and Zeppy, they are twins, well his name is Zeppelin, but everyone calls him Zeppy.” She said with a smile on her face. You almost choked on air. There was no way these children are the children of the man you’d pined after, Jensen Ackles. You’d been a fan of his for years and watched everything he was in, at least twice. You were heartbroken when you heard his wife died during childbirth. She was giving birth to the twins, and there were complications. 

Jensen disappeared from public life after the death of his wife. He still acted on Supernatural, but his appearances in public and at conventions stopped. It wasn’t until recently he had started to make sporadic appearances and going back to conventions. 

After her bath you got her ready and into bed. Walking into the living room you saw Robert sitting on the couch. “We need to talk.” You said as you walked in. He looked up from his phone and his jaw clenched. 

“I’m going to record this conversation for my protection and yours. I don’t want any confusion as to what is being said tonight.” You told him as you hit record on your phone and he scoffed.

“I deserve better than to be with someone who puts their hands on me. My priority is my daughter, and she always will be. I don’t want her to grow up thinking it’s okay to be hit or grabbed by someone who says they love her. I want you to leave, and not come back. I’m not doing this anymore. We aren’t good for each other, so this, (you motioned between the two of you), is over.” 

Robert sat silently. The eerie silence sent a chill through your body. He sat up and started to speak low, “If that’s what you think, then I guess there isn’t anything I can do about it.” “That’s what I’m saying. I need your key.” He pulled out his keys and took the house key off his ring. Then he stood up, grabbed his stuff and left. 

You let out the breath you were holding and quickly went and locked up the house. You called your best friend and told her what happened. She was glad you finally kicked him out. “Do you need me to come over tonight?” She asked. “No, he left his key, so I’m sure it’s going to be okay.” You reassured her. “Okay, well I’m proud of you, if you need me, let me know.” “I will, I love you girl.” “Love you too, bye.” 

Hanging up you grabbed your pajamas and went to take a shower. Climbing in you felt the pain from Robert’s abuse. You cried. Your tears mixing with the water that cascaded from the showerhead. 

After your shower you climbed into bed and scrolled on your phone. You found yourself on Jensen’s Instagram page, smiling at the pictures he’d posted of himself and his children. A new post popped up and it made your heart flutter. It was a picture of his twins and he captioned it with “These two are rocking their first year of preschool. Zeppy has a new little friend he talks about all the time. He said she’s a princess because her name is Jasmine.” Your eyes went wide, was he talking about your Jazzy? You smiled and put your phone down, falling asleep.

The next morning you got Jazzy up and ready for school. On the drive there she was really quiet. “Jazzy, baby, what’s wrong?” You looked in the mirror and met your daughter’s big green eyes. They were full of sadness and fear, “I’m scared mommy.” A frown formed on your face, “What are you scared of baby?” “Robert. He hurt you.” “Oh baby, I’m okay. I made him leave. He won’t be back. It’s just you and me now.” A small smile formed on her face.

Getting her out of her seat at the school the two of you walked hand in hand towards the entrance. Your daughter squealed in excitement and dropped your hand, taking off towards two children. “Arrow, Zeppy!” She squealed. The two children turned around and smiled, running towards her. 

You continued walking and made it to the very excited children. Hugs were exchanged and giggles filled the air. Then there he was, Jensen Ackles. He chuckled as he walked up to you and the three children, “Oh this must be the little princess.” You smiled as your eyes met his. He extended his hand, “Hello, I’m Jensen, and these two are mine, Arrow and Zeppelin.” You extended your hand to shake his hand, not realizing there was a bruise on your arm or on the side of your face. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N and this little one is Jazmyn. I’ve heard so much about your children from her. They are really sweet to her.” 

You noticed his eyes kept scanning you and that’s when you noticed the bruise. You pulled your arm back and felt the embarrassment fill your cheeks. Zeppelin spoke up, breaking the silence between you and Jensen, “Daddy, can we have a playdate after school? Pleeease.” The three children were looking up at Jensen and you. “Well, how about we plan something for the weekend, that way you three can have longer to play, I mean if it’s okay with you.” He looked at you. “Oh absolutely. Besides, I have to work late today and Jazzy will be at her Auntie Nichole’s house.” 

Jensen grabbed the twins’ hands and started to walk towards the door, “We probably should get them inside.” He gestured. “Yeah, don’t want them to be late.” 

After saying your goodbyes, you and Jensen walked towards the parking lot together. “Hey, Y/N. Let me give you my number so we can work out the details of the playdate, and if um, you need anything, please call me.” You offered him a soft smile, “That would be great, Jensen, thank you. I know Jazzy will love it.”

The two of you said your goodbyes, and as you started to walk away Jensen stopped and called your name. “Hey, Y/N.” He stepped closer to you, “He’s an asshole and you don’t deserve that. I promise we aren’t all like that. If you need anything, please call me.” “Thank you, Jensen. For everything, and just so you know I made him leave and broke up with him.” Jensen smiled and lightly touched your arm, “good”. 

Hours later your shift was done. Nichole had picked Jazzy up from school and she was going to bring her home later. You pulled into your driveway and walked in your house. Putting your stuff down you decided you’d take a quick shower before Jazmyne got home. 

Getting out of the shower and getting dressed you walked into the living room and turned on the television. Just as you sat down the doorbell rang. You thought it was Nichole with Jazmyne, but you were wrong. Standing in front of you with eyes full of rage was Robert. 

“Robert, what the hell are you doing here?” Before you could get an answer he came into the house and punched you across the face. You fell to the ground and he started kicking you and punching you. 

You put your hands up to defend yourself and screamed and cried for help and for him to stop. After what felt like hours, he finally left. You laid on the floor, bleeding and in so much pain. You found the strength to grab your phone and pushed the call button. 

“Hello?” The voice on the other end said. You were in and out of consciousness. You started to speak weakly, “Help me…” “Y/N!? Is that you? It was Jensen. You accidentally called Jensen. “Y/N! Answer me, what’s wrong?”

All you could get out was “Jazzy.” Before you passed out. Jensen hung up, called the headmaster at the preschool and told them what happened. They told Jensen they would call 911, he asked for your address but they wouldn’t give it to him. 

Panic filled his body. He called Jared and had him and Gen watch the kids. He was heading to the closest hospital to wait to see if you were brought there. 

The ambulance arrived and Jensen saw you. He tried to get the nurse to tell him what was going on with you, but she wouldn’t give him any information. He paced the waiting room floor and tried everything he could think of to get someone to give him information. 

About 30 minutes later he saw Jazmyne come in with a woman who was close to your age. Jazmyne immediately saw Jensen and ran to him. Nichole tried to grab her, but she was too quick. 

Jensen scooped her up and she threw her arms around his neck, “Hey Jazzy, are you okay? You’re not hurt are you?” Nichole stepped closer, “Oh hi, um how do you know Y/N and Jazzy?” “Hi, I’m Jensen. Jazzy goes to daycare with my twins, and that’s how I know Y/N. She and I just met today, but I’ve known Jazzy.” 

Nichole stretched her hand out, “Hi, I’m Nichole, Y/N’s best friend. Do you know what happened?”

“Not really. She called me and all she said was “Help me, then she said Jazzy’s name. I didn’t know her address so I called the headmaster and told her what happened. I can only assume this was her ex’s doing. She told me she kicked him out.” “She did, but I think he came back over tonight.”

Just then the doctor came out. “I’m here for the family of Ms Y/L/N” Jensen and Nichole stepped forward. “Hi, we’re her family. How is she?” “I’m Dr Fitzpatrick and I’ve been treating her. She has multiple lacerations, some broken ribs, a broken nose and orbital bone, and lots of bruising. She was beat up so badly we have to put her in a medically induced coma to help her body heal. She will be in it for a few days.” 

Jensen and Nichole gasped, “When can we see her?” Nichole asked softly. “You can see her one at a time, but I don’t recommend you take her in there.” The doctor nodded. They both nodded, “Nichole, you go and I’ll stay with Jazzy.” 

Nichole nodded, thanked Jensen and walked to your room. About 30 minutes later Nichole was walking back into the waiting room with red, puffy eyes.

Jensen walked up to her and gave her a hug. She sobbed into his chest. “Jensen, she looks so bad. How could anyone ever do something like that to her. She’s such an amazing person.” Jensen just held her tight. “Do you mind if I go see her?” He asked softly. She shook her head. 

As Jensen walked down the hallway his heart rate sped up. When he saw you laying in your bed, bloodied, bruised and broken his heart ached and anger filled his body. Robert had to pay. He sat beside your side and held your hand, “Hey Y/N, Jazzy is safe. We need you to get better. I can’t plan that playdate by myself.” He chuckled as he held you tight.

Before he left the room, he leaned over and kissed your forehead. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he felt the need to do it, “You’re safe Y/N, and so is Jazzy. I promise you both will be safe.”

Jensen walked back towards Nichole and Jazzy. He gave Nichole his number and told her if she needed anything, or any help with Jazzy to give him a call or send him a text. She nodded and said thank you. 

Jazzy clung tightly to his neck, and Nichole had to pry him off. Jensen stepped closer, “hey, Jazzy, maybe Auntie Nichole can bring you over tomorrow afternoon so you can play with the Arrow and Zeppy, would you like that? She nodded wildly, “Okay, see you tomorrow then.” 

Then Jensen was gone. A few hours later, when she was sure you were out of the woods, she and Jazzy left for the night. 

She was worried about you, but Jensen, oh Jensen was worried about you, Jazzy, and wanted to hurt Robert for hurting you. He couldn’t shake the feeling, but drove home. 

You were left laying in the bed, listening to the sounds of conversations and unable to react or speak to them. You heard Jensen, felt Jensen, and above all you felt his emotion behind his voice. That was something you were thankful to have heard and felt, at least that and Jazzy gave you something worth fighting for. 

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[brights-place]

Hiii I have 2 req ideas and I can’t really choose between them so could you choose for me??

1: miles42 finding out that his little sister has a bf

2: miles42 having a little sister that works at achemex too, but she didn’t really do what she’s supposed to do on missions and just messes around all the time

42! Miles Morales finding out that his little sister has a bf

Pairings: Miles & Lil Sister! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: I'd say that it'd be funny fr miles 42 staring down at his sister when she has a boyfriend and be like "Who you sneakin off to" like how rio acted to miles 1610 when he went off with gwen.

- You've recently started to date a guy your age and he made you feel happy about yourself and felt close - So obviously you had to hide it from your brother and mama rio because you weren't exactly to tell them since whats going on with the city - Here you were getting read for a date with him but as soon as you opened the door you had miles staring you down - you were like one year younger then him but here he was arms crossed and scowling "who you runnin off too" it felt like you were under investigation - "No one" as you try to move past he blocks it "uh uh you tell me where you going? who you going out with? is it genkie? I never liked that guy" "YES YOU DID AND HE'S YOUR BESTFRIEND?!" "Shush" (yall better get the refrence) - So here you were sat down as he pryed you off of every information - "So where you running off to?" "To a karoke place then bowling" "With who" "Lila, Mari, Will and [Guys name}" and here was the longer even worse stare down as he spoke "Does ma know" "of course she does!" - So when you left he was obvs in his prowler costume making sure you were safe walking around but when he noticed how you were holding a guys hand he was 100% gonna scold you and then tease you - As your older brother he was worried yet he made so much fun of you - If you go on dates he makes sure your protected properly with everything you need and make sure that he treats you right when he picks you up miles doesn't want any of that stupid bullshit - Uncle Aaron scared the shit out of your boyfriend Him and Miles was obvs staring him down and he 100% was scared but they welcomed him but reminded him that if he ever broke your heart they'd make sure he gets hurt - Miles 42 would be an amazing brother every version of miles is and he protects you cause your his younger sister even if its one year apart - Miles likes to tease you alot I mean you teased him about his partner so he had the rights to tease you back - def walks into your room when you and your bf are cuddling and makes sure to keep the door open as you shout at him to close the door - Broke into your room again when you were gonna kiss your bf but he was holding a shoe "Nah bro dont even try it or try me drop my sis" - Miles and your bf become gaming buds and the fact he makes fun of him when he loses oh how smug he is and makes fun of your boyfriend proudly - he's very supportive after awhile but is still defensive he already lost his dad and you along with your mother are everything to him he can't lose another uncle aaron and him also may have tabs to make sure that he never does anything shitty to ya.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ��(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2024 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[chaoticace2005]

Why Valentino needs to chill the fuck out (AKA a list of complaints on the pissbaby):

(By Velvette, the only one here with a braincell)

(Her list for Vox (to stop obsessing over Alastor) here)

1. I can’t stop you from being a dick to your employees but STOP RIPPING UP MINE

2. Can you keep your obsession with Angel Dust in the studio? Bringing him up elsewhere makes Vox think he can bitch about Alastor and I don’t need anymore of that.

3. Bringing up the Radio Demon to win an argument just makes everyone suffer.

4. I know therapy is a lost cause with you but seriously?

5. Figure out whatever the fuck you and Vox have going on. You’re not dating but you have Radio Demon- related foreplay and Vox gets jealous whenever you bring up “Angelcakes.”

6. I’ll blow my brains out if I hear the name “Angelcakes” again.

7. I don’t want to keep replacing lights after you run into them head first

8. I don’t want to keep having to spend money buying mothballs so you won’t eat my clothes.

9. When you get pissed you get horny, and I’d prefer if you didn’t fuck anyone on the kitchen counter.

10. Or my closet

11. Can you stop crying about the fact I have (gorgeous) hair and you don’t? Not my fault your head looks like an egg

12. Also weird pheromones? Can you keep that stuff inside you until we need to make more Love Potions? The whole place stinks

13. Your rage bedazzling has begun to get out of hand. I took a shower and rhinestones came out of the tap.

14. STOP FIRING BEDAZZLED (OR ANY) GUN INTO WALLS. AND STOP SAYING ITS FINE BECAUSE YOU LIKE HOLES.

15. Chasing down your employee who is staying with the PRINCESS AND KING of HELL isn’t the best idea.

16. Also, again, Radio Demon. And he may be an ancient prick but Vox is so insufferable.

17. Seriously if anyone gets to kill you it’s me. And since I can’t nobody can.

18. We keep having to replace phones because of your tantrums.

19. And employees

20. And TV screens for Vox

21. When you get angry you put things in the top shelves which is really a dick move.

22. At this point I’m starting to worry if you’ll take the name “pissbaby” seriously given your recent fixation and I do NOT want to deal with that.

23. I know tormenting employees can be fun, but also Angel Dust gets us a lot of money. And if he finds a way to opt out then I’m making sure the financial loss comes out of YOUR funds.

24. I don’t want to go to any more shitty overlord meetings alone because Vox is busy having a mental breakdown and you’re busy looking up new forms of torture.

25. Unlike that Carmine hag I am NOT a wrinkly old mom so STOP making me act like it.

25. Apparently you can only be so “problematic” in Hell and you’ve definitely passed that point

26. Seriously? Do you know how often #CancelTheVees is trending? #CancelValentino is FINE but then you go dragging me into this shit…

27. I’m tired of being the responsible one. Why don’t you two old fucks get your shit together?

[teasel-backatitagain]

Thinking about her (Karina Braun)

[inkskinned]

it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.

it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.

you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.

it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.

your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?

it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.

your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.

it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.

literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!

it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.

but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!

get moving.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HI ILY!!! i was wondering if u could do a argument fic likeeeee katsuki and reader got into a argument and they are both DISTRAUGHT bc they’re so corny and in love and hate fighting but the argument was bad and they’re oh so sad whatever whatever !! and katsuki has to make it up to them EEE !! PLEASE I LIVE EAT SLEEP AND BREATHE UR FANFICS !! LOVE U CASHHH🤍

operation : trouble in paradise !

katsuki tries to get his boyfriend privileges back..

EEEE TYSM AND I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS ASK !! Its my guilty pleasure like both parties hating to argue bc they love each other so much im so sorry that’s adorable. and again ty SOOO much !!! hope you enjoy, ive actually gotten a similar ask, so that one ill try to have that come out soon !

FEM READER, katsuki is melodramatic, argument, fluff fluff despite argument, 3rd year bk squad boys !, kissing, making up yipeee, reader likes flowers,lemme know if i missed sum else !

“she fuckin’ hates me.”

for the past ten minutes he’d barged into kirishima’s room, bakugou has been moping. wallowing, even.

“no she doesn’t, man..” kirishima reassured. for the umpteenth time, he’s honestly lost count. he’d tried putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder earlier but said boy had shrugged him off angrily, grumbling out a dramatic “don’t touch me.” despite being flopped face down on his bed.

“i know her better, kirishima. yes she does.” the blonde insists, voice muffled by the redhead’s pillows. kirishima sighs, patting his friends leg before making his way to his office chair across from the bed, ignoring the muffled grumbles bakugou lets out.

“how bout you just..go apologize ?”

“i already told you i can’t. she—”

“yeah, she hates you. got it.” kirishima finishes his friends sentence, causing the blond to groan. “look dude, you’ll never know unless you try. you’ve been together for ages now.”

“a year.” katsuki corrects, he purposely forgets to mention he knows exactly how many months it has been too. kirishima nods excitedly, trying to get him out of his frankly sad state. “yeah ! so, this shouldn’t be anything man. arguments happen all the time, no matter how much you love each other.”

katsuki feels his ears burn at the word love on his friends lips, he’s told you he loved you of course. but it still felt weird to acknowledge it.

he turns just enough for his scowl to be visible to his friend, who sends him an encouraging smile.

“so what the fuck do i do then ?” kirishima grins wider, sharp teeth on display. “there we go, that’s more like ya, dude !” he exclaims. he quickly shuffles to grab a notepad strewn onto his messy desk (kirishima’s desk was so messy it made katsuki itch sometimes, a shiver almost passes through him whenever he sees the state it’s in)

kirishima drops onto the floor, placing the notepad onto his mattress and scribbling, with a pen katsuki has no idea where he fished out, a messy “operation: get your bf privileges back !!!!!!” bakugou fixes kirishima with a dead look, the other only tilts his head, still cheerful.

“what ?”

“what the fuck is this, kirishima.”

kirishima scoffs at the blonde’s dead tone, “listen man, you wanna win your girlfriend back or not ?!” bakugou squints at him, hard. but only let’s out a loud sigh. kirishima takes that as his answer and with a nod continues writing down notes.

katsuki groans to himself, looking down at his friend scribbling down his grand plan, and he better hope it works.

maybe you should call him..

no, you won’t. it was his fault you were like this anyway.

..but maybe you went a bit too far..?

ugh. you groan, rolling around in your bed. you’d tried to distract yourself by going through your tiktok feed but it seemed the world was against you or your fbi agent hated your guts. your feed was either overly cutesy couples content that made you miss your angry blond, or break up videos that made you miss him even more.

ugh. you shove your head even harder in your pillows.

you’re really trying to hold your ground, because you want katsuki to know he’d hurt your feelings, but now that you think about it you don’t even remember what you’d argued about. it was petty for sure, you’re about 80% sure it was a petty argument.

maybe you should—

you shake your head, steeling your nerves. so what if it was a dumb argument ?! that didn’t mean he could get away with everything!

“uuuugh,” you groan out loud, you miss your katsuki.

a knock at your door startles you. it must be mina, you’d texted her earlier that you were mad at your boyfriend and she’d told you that she “excepted all the deets of what his dumbass did this time as SOON as i get back !!!!” and you were waiting, maybe venting about it could make you feel better and less dramatic.

you open your door expecting to see your overly excited best friend. but instead—

flowers, almost whacking you in the face you might add, are shoved in your face before you can get a word out. you squeak in shock, they’re pretty though, your favorites. and you know only one person who knows what your favorite flowers are.

“wh-katsuki ?!”

and there he is, red faced and angry. scowl on his face and bouquet of pretty flowers in hand.

you can’t tear your eyes away from him, he can’t keep his eyes in one spot—flying from you occasionally to your door to the flowers and repeat. he blinks, you blink.

“here.” he grunts, waving the flowers towards you. “f’r you.” he glances at you.

“o-oh !” you exclaim suddenly, whisking the flowers towards yourself. the bouquet is big, it’s definitely a bit bigger than your head. katsuki searches your face to gauge your reaction“i—uhm! thank you..” you utter shyly, katsuki grunts. he shoves his hands in his pockets the moment you’ve gripped the bouquet, kicking at something you can’t see on the floor.

your heart skips a beat. tentatively, you lean against the door “didn’t take you for a flower guy..”

he scoffs, kicking the toe of his sneakers against the floor “‘m not.. but you like these, right ?”

trick question. he knows you do, you mentioned in passing these were your favorites, unless you suddenly decided you didn’t like these anymore. then he’s fucked. but he decides to continue despite the worry growing in his lower belly, the plan was already a go now.

“i—uhm, listen..” your boyfriend fumbles, he throws his head back and groans when his words won’t come out right. you give him a tiny smile, his eyes soften just a bit.

“i fucked up, okay ?” he admits, scratching at his nape “shouldn’t have said all that shit to you, or whatever..” you can tell he’s beyond embarrassed. he’d melt if he could get any redder, he keeps scratching and won’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time and katsuki who’s always the loudest in the room can barely manage a mumble. you know he means it though, he never did anything he didn’t feel like doing. you wait for him to continue and he looks at you then.

“i don’t ever like arguing with you. ever.” he insists “so jus..forgive me, kay ?” he finishes quietly. your heart jumps and leaps and you can’t stand acting cold anymore. you walk a bit closer to him, the flowers block you from fully being close to him.

katsuki’s eyes are wide as you lean in to kiss right next to his lips, you laugh at his bewildered expression and his eyes soften when he snaps out of it. he rolls his eyes, you smile wider.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry too. i don’t like arguing with you either..” you admit, katsuki reaches for your hand, you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your skin, you give it to him and he grips it tight. then he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, it’s a sweet little apology kiss that turns a bit too passionate after a while, and you pull him towards you and into your room away from prying eyes. katsuki kicks the door shut behind him and pulls you closer by your waist.

“guess i gotta—thank shitty hair..” he mumbles in between kisses, “an’ i owe him twenty bucks.”

you make a noise against his lips and pull away, raising a brow and holding his shoulders when he tries to lean in to kiss you again. “what’s that mean ?”

your boyfriend huffs “told shitty hair i’d give him twenty bucks if his shitty plan worked.”

��plan, what plan ?” you ask, katsuki squints at you, a grumbling noise comes from his throat, almost a whine.

“yer really gonna make me spell it out aren’t you..” he mutter bitterly, shoving his head in your neck. he continues, “shitty hair helped me come up with a plan to make you not mad at me anymore. i told him it wouldn’t work, he said it would, and we bet on it.”

you laugh in disbelief, katsuki chomps at your neck to silence you, squeezes his arms tighter around your stomach to make you wheeze, but you can’t stop laughing. “that’s so cute !”

“shaddup.” he growls in response. you muffle your giggles in his shoulder. katsuki grumbles some more and you run your hands up and down his back.

“well then,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his nape, his arms around you tighten. “i guess we’ll both have to thank kiri then.”

[confused-wanderer]

No because I can’t be the only one who thinks that the other batkids mess with Damian’s non-existent knowledge of jokes and references. Each of the batkids already has their own niche of bad jokes they love saying. And Damian is just adding fuel to the fire by being an unsuspecting victim:

Dick: Knock knock

Damian *who’s seen Superman and Jon do this all the time* : .. who’s there?

Dick: Nobody

Damian: …nobody.. who?

Dick:

Damian: ?

Dick *keeping a poker face*

Damian: Grayson.. nobody who?

Dick *shaking with silent laughter before walking out of the room*

Damian: .. Grayson has lost what little brain cells he had left. Shame, it was the most anyone had in the family.

Alfred: Master Damian.. it is you who didn’t understand.

Damian: .. what?

Alfred *raises an eyebrow*

Damian:

Damian *realisation dawns*

Damian *marching out of the room while unsheathing his katana*

Alfred: Keep away from the carpet Master Damian.

OR

Jason: You know.. you always see flamingoes sleep with one leg lifted off the ground..why do you think that is?

Damian: .. you pose a good question for once Todd. I suppose it could be a form of protecting body heat.. what is the reason for this?

Jason *wheezing*: It’s ‘cause if they had both legs up they would’ve fallen over.

*doubles over laughing at his own joke*

Damian:

Jason *now fallen over, rolling on the ground*

Damian: This is why Father doesn’t love you.

It has also led to an unintended common ground between him and Tim, who are both just so done with the rest of the family. Stephanie is just waiting for the day Damian realises that Tim references vines almost everyday. She’s sure Tim’s going to lose a kidney when that happens.

Bonus points if Tim already does, but Damian just looks at him weird every time and just chalks it upto another “Tim thing” like:

Tim: .. it is Wednesday my dudes.. *screams*

Damian: … Drake it’s Friday. The only thing you succeed at is disappointing me.

OR

Tim: Do it for the vine.

*jumps into blazing fire with a bomb hidden somewhere in the building about to collapse without informing anyone or taking proper equipment to find said bomb*

Damian: Father told me I must not hate you, but if you were on fire, and I had a glass of water.. I would drink it.

And

Tim *driving while in a high-speed chase with a villain about to summon the end of the world while the car is on fire*: Road work ahead? Uh yeah, I sure hope it does

Damian *over the comms* : Father I fear Drake has more brain damage than he usually does. I have genuine concern for my safety. If I kill him, you should know it’s in self-defence.

————-////

Edit: The first joke is a knock knock joke but when Dick says nobody it means nobody is at the door, so no matter how much you say “nobody who?” you won’t get a reply because there’s no one at the door. Hope this clears it up😅

[lowkeyerror]

Talk it Out

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: Agatha All Along Finale Spoilers, Angst, I guess it's hurt/comfort, happy ending

Summary: The confrontation between Agatha and Rio goes differently with you there to mediate.

An: I've been itching to write for Agatha. I check the tags everyday for new fics, so I thought maybe I should contribute. Hope you like it

Masterlist

“Are you guys really going to do this? There has to be another way?”

Dark skies with ominous clouds loomed over Agatha's backyard. Rio was perched on the rooftop magic buzzing in her hands. Agatha stood on the ground exhausted from the trials of the road.

You found yourself standing in between the two.

“Darling, there is no other way. I don’t want to hurt you, don’t make me hurt you,” the rage dims in Rio's eyes as she looks at you.

You turn to the other woman. She’s trying to activate her powers, to no avail. You see a panic rise across her features. It's then that Rio begins her attack. When Agatha is flung back, you can’t help but scream her name.

“AGATHA!”

You attempt to run to her side, but vines snake their way up your legs keeping you in place.

“Rio please,” you plead with her.

Agatha answers, “She’s not going to listen to you sweetheart. Death is unkind, cruel even, and she cares for no one.”

Tears brim at your eyes hearing those words. Your whisper doesn’t get lost in the chaos, “That’s not true.”

“You can lie to yourself all you want Agatha, but she knows you’re full of shit,”  Rio hurls a vine at the witch leaving a nasty cut on her ankle.

“Look around Y/n, does this look like love,” Agatha spits out before her back connects with a tree.

Wires and vines alike start to wrap around Agatha, keeping her in place. Rio stalks towards her in a predatory fashion.

“End of the road Agatha, and you know where all roads lead.”

Agatha starts to beg for her life. This whole scene pulls your heart in two different directions.

Your magic was weak in comparison to most, but in this moment that didn’t matter. It was enough to escape the hold from the vines.

Just as Rio was going to blast Agatha out of existence you step between the two. Your hands outstretched to shield Agatha.

“Take me instead,” your gaze is soft when you meet Death’s stare.

“No,” Agatha and Rio speak in unison.

You shake your head, “You don’t get to say no. You need a soul and I’m offering mine.”

“It- it’s not your time,” Rio's excuse is flimsy.

“I’ve been around just as long as she has. I’ve sat by and watched her do the things that she did. I am your lover, just like she is. So you’re taking my soul.”

Agatha protests again, “She can’t have you.”

You turn to face her, “She already does, my love. I do not fear her as you do. I do not resent her. Spending eternity with her does not scorn me. I love her just as I love you.”

A scowl grows on Agatha’s face, “How can you forgive her?”

Rio wants to speak, but you place your hand on her chest, causing her to hold her tongue.

You squat down to Agatha’s level. Your hands caress her face, “I am grateful for what she gave us Agatha. Are you not? We’ve been alive for centuries, yet nothing has ever come close to those 6 years.”

“She took him from us.”

You shook your head, your voice was delicate, “He wasn’t even meant to take his first breath. We might’ve made him from scratch, but there’s only one person that gave him life, and you hate her for it.”

“He was my son too,” Rio speaks, no longer in her fighting stance.

Her eyes boring into Agatha, with a sorrow only death could convey.

Angry tears welled in Agatha’s eyes, “In the middle of the night. When we couldn’t even say goodbye. I was going to- I was going to do better for him, Rio.”

“I had to take him, and if either or you asked me not to… I don’t think I would’ve been able to do it. Don’t you think I would’ve loved to see him grow, Agatha? He was so much of all of us even at that age.”

“He was smart and cunning like you,  Agatha. He had your affinity for nature and balance, Rio. And he.. .”

“Was kind, just like you sweetheart,” Agatha finished your sentence.

Rio frowns, “I took no joy in taking him. In fact, taking a soul has never hurt so much. I didn’t just lose Nicky, I lost you too.”

“Tell her the truth,” you say to Agatha, who shifts a bit under your gaze.

“There’s nothing to tell,” her sentence falls flat at the end, in the way it does when she's lying.

Your tired eyes look at her, “Agatha, please.”

“I ran because I’m scared. Not of you, but of facing Nicky. If he saw who I am, what I’ve become he would-"

“Love you anyway,” Rio spoke with certainty.

It’s then that Agatha fully drops her mask, vulnerability on full display, “How are you sure?”

“You never hid yourself from him. He knows what kind of person you are, he always did. Maybe he wanted you to change, but he still loved you the way you were,” Rio spoke it like a fact.

It broke Agatha. She began to sob, “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I’m sorry.”

You began to free Agatha from her spot against the tree. Rio instantly broke the binds after watching you struggle. She was cautious in her approach, of the two of you.

Rio wraps her arms around Agatha. Agatha melts into the embrace, the warmth comforting her. Rio begins to wipe away the woman’s tears.

You watch with a tender gaze and relief flooding through your features.

“No more fighting,” you look between the two of them.

“What about Billy?” Agatha clears her throat, trying to regain her composure.

Rio deflates, taking a step back from Agatha, “I still-”

“I told you to take mine,” you speak up.

Rio’s eyes darken, “I won’t.”

You invade the woman’s personal space. Your arms settle around the back of her neck. You lean into her, forehead resting against hers.

She breathes you in calmly. Eyes fluttering close. You kiss her, deeply. You don’t focus on the pain coursing through you, but rather the softness of her lips, the eagerness of her hands, the warmth of her body.

You can feel yourself slipping, but it doesn’t go too far as you are roughly shoved away from Rio.

“ARE YOU CRAZY!” Agatha yells.

Your breath is ragged as your life force slowly returns to you, “Maybe.”

You don’t think as you shoot your magic at Agatha. You know her instincts, you’ve seen them in action. Without thought she begins draining you of your powers. As you crumble, she rises.

“AGATHA!” Rio’s voice echoes something deadly.

It knocks Agatha out of her trance and she quickly cuts the line between your power and hers. You lay flat on the ground with your eyes open towards the sky. You’re breathing is minimal but present.

Rio looks at Agatha, “You need to give her some back or she won't make it.”

Agatha’s hands are trembling and she tries to out the power back, but nothing is happening.

“She’s- she’s not taking it,” Agatha begins to mumble.

“Y/n you have to receive the power, you have to do it or you’ll die,” Rio says sternly.

“The soul,”  you mumble.

Rio growls, “Forget about the soul, I’ll figure it out, just please.”

Before Agatha can put the magic, back into you again, you’re hit with a bright blue ray of energy. The force with which it hits you makes you jolt into an upright position.

“Is she going to be alright?” Billy jogs over to the scene in front of him.

It’s not what he thought it was going to be originally and for that he’s grateful. Fighting Death was not anywhere near his bucket list.

“Did you-”

“I-I came to fight and then I saw… everything. It just made sense to help,” Billy’s eyes search all 3 women.

You answer him first, “I’m alright, everything is fine.”

“A-are you sure?”

You look to Rio, who is already looking at you, she tells the teen “You are free to go.”

He looks at Agatha first and then you.

“We will around if you need us, don’t fret. This is not a journey, you have to walk alone,” you tell him.

The boy is quick to wrap his arms around you in a hug. You squeeze him back and whisper in his ear, “We will help you find him.”

He nods at your words. He takes one more glance at Agatha and Rio before leaving the yard.

“When are you going to tell him about the road?” Agatha questions you.

“Later, after I’ve spent some time with the women that I love. Both of them,” you say hopefully.

Rio looks at Agatha, you both knew it was her call.

The woman let out a dramatic sigh, “Nothing too strenuous I'm exhausted from all of that hard work.”

“A bath would do you well,” Rio bites back.

Agatha rolls her eyes, “You just want to see me naked.”

Rio chuckles, “Well, it has been quite some time. I’m sure Y/n wouldn't mind an intimate moment with both of us either.”

You shook your head, “Not one complaint.”

“You’re both ridiculous,” Agatha speaks.

“You love it,” Rio counters.

Agatha looks at you and then Rio before letting out a sigh, “I love you both.”

[haztory]

['sex' by the 1975]

⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)

“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.

“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.

“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”

the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed. 

“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.

atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”

“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”

“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”

”some people take a minute to figure it out.”

”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”

“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room. 

his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities. 

its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment. 

its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have. 

there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does. 

there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.

atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort. 

its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years. 

pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.

right. 

“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.” 

“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”

“you’re being mean.” you tell him. 

atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”

“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“

“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”

“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you. 

you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard. 

(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.

[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.

[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.

[9:20] you were our biggest argument. 

[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.

[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip

there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.

you don’t tell atsumu about it.)

“alright. sit up then.”

his voice startles you. “what?” 

suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.

your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.

it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.

“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”

its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.

“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod. 

lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw. 

his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale. 

his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away. 

“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.

“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.

it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.

“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips. 

“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”

“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”

“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”

“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend. 

and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should. 

“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”

“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”

“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet. 

satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear.  “does he touch ya like this?” 

the gasp you release is guttural.

the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.  

his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.” 

its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.

“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.

“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words. 

and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.

you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.

“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room. 

his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise. 

a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in. 

“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension. 

“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”

he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.

there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off. 

but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight. 

there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.

your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.

osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth. 

but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to. 

he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.

you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.

“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”

a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!

[scoops-aboy86]

Steve as a late night radio DJ, with Robin as his producer (because my partner has made me watch so much Frasier lol). He's got the sexy voice and Eddie, frontman of successful metal band Corroded Coffin, still remembers him from Hawkins and, ugh.

But, well, his manager set up the interview and it would cause more of a stir to no-show than it would to turn up and bicker with some washed up former high school bully. It's a different city, a different decade; maybe King Steve won't even remember him.

So Eddie turns up, and he actually beats Steve there. To the point of the show starting and it's just him in the booth, chatting awkwardly with Robin to fill the air. It gets less awkward the more they talk, idly catching up on old small town bullshit and what it's like to go from isolated baby queers ("I thought I was totally alone!" "Really? You didn't clock the black bandana hanging out of my pocket for five of my six years in high school?" "Sorry old timer, I was still in middle school for part of that." "Oh fuck off, Ms. 'I went to Sarah Lawrence and all I got was this awesome girlfriend.'" "Sorry Eddie, we can't all be super late bloomers like you.") to Actually Successful And Functioning Adults. (She's kind enough not to mention his single but unfortunately well known brush with rehab, other than to congratulate him on his seven year chip.)

And then Steve bursts in, huffing and puffing and diving for the headphones and mic to apologize to both them and the audience for being late. He doesn't even try to offer an excuse until Robin asks, "Uh, Steve? Want to share with us why your arm's in a sling and one of your eyebrows looks like it got flambéd right off your face?"

Which turns into a very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson ("Oh damn, Henderson! I fell outta touch with him ages ago. How is that little shit?" "Married. He didn't end up converting to Mormonism, but they still have enough kids to make up half a basketball team." "Is that... a lot?" "Six, Munson. They have six kids." "Which is funny, because he made soooo much fun of Steve for wanting that many back in the day." "Yeah. Showed him." "Fuck, my condolences to his wife if they all inherited his big head. You gotta give me his number after this. Or—DUSTIN, if you're listening to your babysitter's show, come to my next concert and there'll be two backstage passes with your name on it! Or, well, that embarrassing nickname your radio girlfriend used to call you, since I think I've blurted out your full government name by now." "That girlfriend is actually his wife now." "No shit?! Wow, I can't believe one of my little lost sheepies has managed to keep the same girl for over a decade. Is she really hotter than Phoebe Cates?" "Oh, she is smokin." "Robin, don't make it weird." "Oh it's okay, she already knows. I told her.") ... A very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson coming over to discuss plans for Ma Henderson's birthday, and bringing a cherries jubilee that Suzie had made so he could literally demonstrate the flambé presentation ("Listeners, I swear I did not know, when I asked Steve about his flambéd eyebrow, that it was a literal flambé accident. Eddie, can you confirm?" "I can confirm, Robin. We received no heads-up calls or messages from Steve before or during the show. It was serendipitous irony, 100% pure.") but poured waaaaay too much brandy on, and then Steve tripped in his mad dash for the fire extinguisher ("He was no help at all, just stopped dropped and rolled right there in the middle of the damn kitchen." "How are his eyebrows?" "Ugh, I have more of them than he does right now but at least his match. Don't worry everyone, he's fine. No nerds were injured in the course of this improv slapstick comedy routine that is my life. I swear to god, I need a girlfriend or a boyfriend or someone reasonable to hang out with besides all you weirdos." "Aw, you love us." "Yeah Stevie, what would you do without your loving nerd squad?" "Yeah, yeah... But don't try to leave yourself out of this Munson, as far as I'm concerned you're still the king of all nerds. And if you're reconnecting with Dustin, you're stuck with us too.") and had to stop by urgent care on the way to work.

Throughout all of this, Eddie is not twirling a lock of hair around one finger... but only because it's tied haphazardly back to keep it out of his face for the day. Steve is different from the guy he remembers strutting the halls of Hawkins High. Still all freckles and hair and charismatic grin, but he carries himself differently. More solidly built in his mid-thirties than his late teens, with a layer of softness that suits him. Calmer and settled, with the kind of confidence that comes with growing up. And the girlfriend or boyfriend thing? Holy shit. Holy shit. King Steve? Who knew? But, well, it explains why Steve and Robin are so close, Eddie guesses.

The Steve Harrington that Eddie had known back in the day hadn't exactly been the worst of the bullies, but he'd been friends with them, and they had spouted plenty of homophobic shit. And Steve had been looking right at him as he'd said it, like he's aware that Eddie is terminally single and maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of a question in his eyes.

Eddie has been publicly out for a while now, and the thing is... Steve is definitely his type. So he leans into it a little, testing the waters. And Steve responds to it like a sunflower greeting the sunrise.

By the end of the show Robin is slapping post-its on the glass partition that read "Get his number dingus" and "Get a room" and Don't make that face at me, yes I do know that he can see these too and I don't care, GET IT or I will recruit Dusty-dun to my cause" and "To clarify, the cause is getting you laid. Eddie, take note, he's allergic to latex."

Permanent tag list (ask to be added, but since I have gotten an influx of new followers lately just know that I write a lot of weight gain kink so like... just be aware): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

[jamespotterismydaddy]

The Prince Regent

aemond x sister smut

A/N: I haven't given yall smut in so long :( pls forgive me

WARNINGS: smut!, incest, murder (bye bye aegon)

WORD COUNT: 1,475 words

You feel ill when your brothers come back from battle. Your husband, Aegon is a step away from death and Aemond is… different. It all unnerves you.

You spend hours visiting your husband on his sickbed but there’s only so much you can take before you have to retire to your own chambers. You hated Aegon sometimes but you truly never wanted such a thing to befall him. You miss when he was healthy.

“Sister.” You don’t think you even heard Aemond knock before he’s in your room.

Your eyes well with tears when you see him, knowing it’s okay to break a little when in the presence of your dearest brother. “Aemond…” you let out in a whimper.

His face softens as he immediately makes his way over to you, pulling you into his strong arms. “It’s just all so awful.” You say.

“Oh my poor, dōna riña.” He murmurs into your hair, rubbing circles on your back. You’re such a fragile little thing. Aegon was terrible to you. Your twin can hardly understand why you’re so upset that he’s bedridden.

“I just… don’t want my children to grow up without their father. They’ve already lost their brother. They don’t understand why he won’t come to play with them anymore. There’s no way for me to explain it to them… I don’t know how to help them.”

“Aegon was a shit father anyhow.” He comments.

“Aemond.” You give him a scolding look through your tears.

“You can’t say I’m being untruthful. Besides, I can care for and love your children better than he ever could.”

“You are so careful with them. I am appreciative of it of course.” You murmur, feeling comforted by your brother’s gentle touch. “But you shouldn’t speak so unkindly of our King while he lies on what might be his deathbed.”

“If it is his deathbed, then I am the king.” Aemond responds.

“Would it not be Jaehaera as queen?” You question. Should it not be your daughter who would rule next?

“It would be difficult to have a girl heading our cause when Rhaenyra is also a woman. Besides, i’ve been named Prince Regent. I’m the king in all but name… and all kings need a queen.” He gives you a look that you can’t quite place.

“I am sure the Baratheon girl will be ever so pleased when she is informed of her rise in status.” You murmur.

“I won’t have dark haired, Baratheon mutts as my heirs.”

“Then who shall you marry? One of Vaemond’s granddaughters perhaps? I don’t think a Velaryon is worth breaking such a beneficial betrothal.” You don’t see it yet. You haven’t caught on to what his words mean, his treasonous words.

“I shan't break my engagement for some woman I care not for... I’ll break it for you.”

Your jaw drops. “Aemond, that is absurd.”

“I will quell their anger by arranging a match with Daeron. A third son is as good as a second.”

“You know that isn’t what i’m shocked by.”

“Are you truly shocked?” He tilts your chin up so you have no choice but to look him in the eyes. “I know it is I that you desire, not Aegon.”

“Aegon is my husband.” You protest.

“Aegon is a useless cunt who will be dead soon.” Aemond says firmly. “And when he’s dead, i’ll be king.”

“He might yet live and if he does, i’ll still be his wife. I won’t be an adulterer.” You push away from your brother, creating an appropriate distance. 

“I would never make such a woman of you. All I ask is that you answer my one question. If Aegon were dead, would you choose to marry me?”

There’s a long pause as you think about your answer. It would be treasonous to respond truthfully… but it is Aemond asking the question. You can’t lie to your beloved brother.

“I would.”

There’s a certain glint in his eye when you give him your answer. He leaves the room without saying anything else.

Over the next few hours, you try your hardest not to overthink. The way Aemond phrased the question, the way he looked at you after you answered, it was unnerving. You know your brother wants nothing more than to take care of you but he could never harm Aegon, could he?

Your question was answered by morning. Aegon is dead.

It wasn’t Aemond. You tell yourself, repeating it for a week. You only left your room when it was time for the funeral. You don’t speak to anyone, especially not him. Tonight, you don’t sleep, trying to distract yourself with what most would call silly feminine interests.

“Sister?” You look up from your needlework to see him standing there, stoically in the middle of your room.

“The hour is late, Aemond.” You say, confused by his presence and more than nervous by it.

“I know. You should be sleeping. I thought you would be sleeping.”

“I couldn’t find my rest.” You whisper.

“Why?” 

He knows why.

“It was by your hand, was it not?”

“I hardly know of what you speak.” He brushes you off.

“I am no fool.”

“I know you aren’t. That is why you’ll never say it aloud.”

“Is that a threat?” You ask and there's a visible pang of hurt shown on his visage.

“I would never do anything to harm you.” He states firmly, getting closer and taking the needlework out of your hands so he may hold them instead.

“But you would covet your brother’s wife as he lies on his deathbed. He has been cold for but a week; have you already come to claim me?”

“You desire to be claimed by me.” He states, irritated by your current disdain for him.

“I desire a good man by my side.”

“Then why do you think of me when Aegon fucks you?” Aemond grabs your wrists, pulling you closer to him. You gasp. He’s never spoken to you like this before.

“Aemond…” You breathe out, appalled. 

“You toil with this decision so i’ll make it for you.” His right hand slides down to your waist and he pulls you flush against him. “We will consummate tonight.”

He kisses you with rough passion, stealing your breath from your lips. Your brother has waited too long for this and will not wait a second longer. He pushes you back until you reach the bed, the two of you falling atop it.

“I will have you now, my wife… my beautiful bride.” 

“This is… we can’t.”

“The King can do as he pleases.”

He wastes no time, reaching his hand up your skirts until he finds your small clothes. He rubs gently through the fabric, smirking as he feels the wetness before he pulls the garment down.

“Be gentle, Aemond.” It was never a request you would make of Aegon. Such a sentiment would do you no good with a man who takes pleasure in pain.

“Of course, my dōna riña but by the end of the night, my babe will be in your belly.”

You gaze up at him as he unbuckles his trousers, such a sweet nymphet was wasted on a bastard like Aegon.

You wince as his cock splits your tight cunt and he marvels at the grimace. He must be much more well endowed than the dead king to warrant such a response.

“Shh, I'm sorry. I know it hurts. Poor sweet angel.” He lets you adjust to him, wanting you to enjoy the times you will lie together just as he does.

When he no longer sees pain strewn across your face, he begins to thrust. A little choked gasp leaves your throat as he does; you never expected to enjoy such a feeling.

“Hmm, you like that?” He taunts, beginning to pick up to a pace that you can’t handle.

“Oh, it’s too fast.” You whimper, but he doesn’t slow. Your big brother knows what you can take. Besides, there’s a bit of sadism in every Targaryen man.

He begins to pound into you, relishing each moan his baby sister makes. It’s sick, but nothing brings him more pleasure than knowing he will be a better husband than Aegon in every way possible.

Aemond hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and the new angle lets him get even deeper inside you.

“Gods, you’re just sucking me in.” He wanted so desperately to last longer as he begins to furiously rub your pearl but the way you squeeze around him makes it hard.

His hips stutter but he knows you’re close too as you begin to spasm around him. He digs himself into you with one final thrust before painting your walls white with his seed.

“We will have the wedding this week, my darling. I’ll wait no longer for you.”

comment to be added to the taglist

[stillfrownyclownlol]

Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-

Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)

The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.

Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)

He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.

The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-

It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?

He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀

And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.

And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-

He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.

I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.

That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.

It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.

And what makes you feel more alive than love?

Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.

He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.

He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.

Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.

Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.

He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-

Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠

The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.

I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.

Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.

Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher

[poppy-metal]

constantly wanting skin to skin w daddy!art and mommy!tashi. it gets so bad that art has to cockwarm you for hours bc your insufferable and tashi doesn’t like touch constantly T-T

imagine when they go to his matches and you're home all day alone <///3 you're so desperate just imagining them coming home and art immediately seeking you out to fill you up. you've been texting them like crazy, art mostly, cause he's always more likely to reply - are you almost home? I miss you. can you please fuck me when you get here? I'm so empty I miss you so much I just want you inside.

tashi rolls her eyes - she takes her time settling into her at home clothes - meticulously taking off her jewelry, her rings and earrings and bracelets - sliding out of her outerwear into something more comfortable. brushing out her hair. she also gets herself a glass of wine.

then she goes to find her two lovers - by the time she steps into the guest room arts already inside you on the bed. you're spread out underneath him with completely naked, legs and arms hooked around him like a koala. she can see her husband is barely moving inside you - his balls pressed flushed to your cunt, snug there. you're embracing mostly - just with his cock inside you. it's cute.

she sets her glass on the table next to the bed and settles in. your head lolls lazily to her, eyes already fucked out - face flushed. art is mouthing at your neck, probably slipping into his own headspace - subspace or domspace or daddyspace - probably the last one, he gets so lost in you like this, especially after you express need for him - art donaldson loves nothing more than being needed and wanted. and you a very needy girl. you want so much.

she cards a hand through your hair - you lean into the touch. cheek in her palm. "feel good, baby?"

you nod - your mouth opens and she knows what you want. she sinks her fingers into your open orface- the slick inside of your mouth warm and wet. she presses down against your tongue and licks her lips at the way your mouth closes around her - starts sucking immediately. tashis an independent woman - the whole concept of a third had been brought into light for art and art alone, to feed that dependent, hungry part of him starved for love and attention - but she found herself falling for you too. and it was nice, she had to admit - to feel needed and wanted by you too.

she lets you suckle on her fingers and watches the way you and her husband move together. he's moving now - slow motions of his hips - and she can't see it from this view, nothing but the rise and fall of his ass as he pumps - but she knows what it looks like. can imagine the view of arts pink cock sliding in and out of your tight hole. she wonders if you're getting him creamy yet. decides to ask.

"how does she feel?"

art moans. his hips stutter. he always likes it when tashi asks him questions about you while he's inside - something about her being involved abosloving him of guilt that he's doing anything wrong by her, even though she's told him a million times it's impossible for him to cheat - given you're their girlfriend - her approval just spurs him on regardless.

"so wet." he sighs. noses along your jaw. "she's all swollen inside - hot and tight - god, -"

"aw," tashi coos. "she missed her daddy, I bet."

that's another thing that gets art going. he groans, you whimper around tashis fingers, in agreement, at the sudden pace of arts hips snapping into you - both, probably.

"missed her too." he leans down to kiss you, can't because your mouth is filled and ends up mouthing at your cheek, kisses down to your throat - "m'here baby - fuck - I've got you -"

[woso-dreamzzz]

Teeth

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Pernille does it again

"I don't want to talk about it," Pernille says as Georgia slides into the cubby next to her.

"I wasn't going to say anything!" Georgia lies.

"I still don't want to talk about it," Pernille insists," No comment. I'm not talking about it with anyone. I'm not answering any questions."

"You don't need to," Georgia assures her," Because your kid is letting everyone know what happened."

Currently, you're on Sydney's lap, pealing back your upper lip to show off the gap that your two front teeth used to occupy.

They'd both come out last night.

Only one had been wobbly.

Pernille buries her head in her hands and forces herself not to scream. "I need to teach her that not everyone needs to know our business."

Georgia chuckles. "I don't know," She says," She seems pretty happy to tell everyone. You'd take that joy away from her?"

"It's humiliating."

Georgia keeps giggling, especially when you gesture wildly over to Pernille to accentuate your story.

It was an accident again, like the first time you lost a tooth. Thankfully, a ball hadn't been kicked in your face but this time it seemed liked it was much worse.

It had been hot out yesterday and Magda insisted on a barbeque while her family was visiting.

You'd been inside, dragging your new schoolwork down to show your grandparents because you'd gotten a certificate for it.

You'd taken your time so Pernille thought it would be a little funny to scare you as you came out.

She'd jumped at you when you came through the door and you'd shrieked, jumping in the air before stumbling.

Everyone was laughing before they realised you had gone face first into the steps of the outside decking.

Magda sat you up which was when you spat out your two front teeth into her hands.

It was mortifying that it had happened a second time, Pernille accidentally being the cause of your teeth falling out.

This time though, a little older than the first, you didn't seem to care much about the pain in your mouth, just that you were going to get a big cash out from the tooth fairy.

You also seem incapable of keeping the story to yourself, having come into training today ready to show off your tooth gap, your newly acquired lisp and the amount of money you got.

It's the money bit that has Magda staring daggers at Pernille from across the locker room and Pernille agrees that she may have gone overkill but she'd already set a precedent and she doesn't want you staging a revolt against the tooth fairy for your lack of money this time.

No matter what Magda says about explaining the concept of inflation to you, Pernille knows that you won't accept anything else then the ten euros you got previously.

Plus the amount added on that Pernille knows will wave her feeling of guilt.

"The tooth fairy gave me thirty euros!" You tell Sydney and Scottish Sam," Fifteen for each tooth!"

"So cool!" Sydney tells you while Sam's mouth hangs open in shock.

"Because of inflation I got more!" You continue," The tooth fairy wrote me a note saying so. I don't know what inflation is but I like it!"

"I'm sure you do," Magda says, picking you up and setting you back on the floor," But let's put the money away now."

"Thirty euros?" Georgia hisses at Pernille as you and Magda go off to put your money because in your little puppy purse," Can you be my tooth fairy?"

"Don't," Pernille groans," It's guilt money. I feel really bad."

"Why? They were bound to come out at some point."

"That's not the point! They weren't ready and now she's got no front teeth."

"But she's thirty euros richer. That has to count for something."

"It counts for me not sleeping in my bed tonight," Pernille mutters.

You're back to flitting around the room now, practically skipping on air to tell everyone how Pernille made you smack your face against the decking steps in front of the whole family and how you had to have your barbeque cut up for you instead of just scoffing it down like everyone else.

That seems to be your main annoyance with this whole thing. How you couldn't eat your barbeque like normal. In the grand scheme of things, Pernille supposes, you could have had a much worse reaction.

She should take the small wins when they come.

The small wins like now as you sit on the bench next to Magda and inspect your gap with your tongue.

The space from the wobbly tooth is already being filled in, its replacement already coming in.

You seem to be fairly distracted by inspecting your mouth rather than complaining about your gums hurting so Pernille will take the win for what it is.

"Momma," You call out to her," Next time, can you knock out three of my teeth so I can get more money?"

[nottsangel]

artrick who end up blackmailing camgirl reader that they know and will tell all their frat bros if she doesn't let them join on a live hehehegehehehejdjd 🔮

— artrick and camgirl!reader

ugh i love dark stuff like this…. patrick and art would be so sneaky with it though, you wouldn’t even realise they’re basically blackmailing you. they’d be so sly and manipulative, each in their own way.

like imagine getting ready, with roughly an hour left before going live again as you were finishing your make-up, already clad in a red lingerie set— a viewer favourite. staring at yourself in the mirror, lost in thought, you clumsily dropped your lipstick when loud knocks resonated through your dorm room, making you flinch momentarily. fuck. you cursed at yourself, instantly knowing it was your two best friends on the other side of the door, as they were the only ones you hung out with but god, their timing couldn’t be worse.

and when you opened the door after quickly putting on a silk robe, the atmosphere immediately felt… different? both patrick and art eyed you with dark, intense eyes, in a way you’d never seen before, and it made you extremely nervous.

“uhm… what’s up? sorry, but i don’t have much time…”

“we know you don’t.” patrick began as they both casually walked into your dorm room as if it was their own. “what? what does— what does that mean?” you gulped. what if they…

“what patrick is trying to say, is that, uhm… we know about your… how do i say this… side hustle.” your eyes widened in an instant, heart pounding in your throat, making each breath a struggle. all the worst-case scenarios flashed through your mind, causing your breathing to quicken and your knees to weaken.

“oh… my god.” was all you could utter before both patrick and art rushed over to you when you began to panic, an expression of faux empathy on their faces. “hey, hey, it’s okay. it’s just us that know... for now.” patrick reassured you, muttering the last part under his breath as they both gently set you down on your bed, one on each side of you and both their hands resting on your bare thighs.

“how do you…”

“doesn’t matter how. what matters is that, others might see it, you know? like, our friends? i mean, you know how they are…” patrick moved his hand to your face, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, meeting your glossy eyes as tears welled up. “yeah… we all share the same laptop and we might, you know, forget to delete the browser history and they all would see the stuff you do on there…” art added, his hand inching closer to your cunt, causing you to instinctively spread your legs slightly wider as you tried to control your fast breathing.

“bet they would jerk off while watching you like fucking creeps. hand wrapped around their cocks as they watch you undress… or worse… they might share it with everyone. and soon the entire school would know about the things you do late at night, all alone in your little dorm room.” at this point, panic overtakes you completely as your hands clutch the edge of the bed so tightly that your knuckles turn white and you firmly bite your lip to stifle your sobs.

“shhh, baby, don’t worry. you know we won’t let that happen, right? i mean, we got a plan… but you gotta calm down for us, okay?” art cooed as he rubbed his thumb over your cheek to calm you down and wipe your tears. meanwhile, outside your vision, patrick eyed you lustfully as he bit his lip, feeling his boner grow at the sight of your red lace bra peeking out from your robe. you sniffed, feeling yourself gradually calm down at his reassuring words before nodding, desperate to end this nightmare.

“so uhm… how about you let us join, hm? that way we’ll make sure it’ll never get leaked. i mean… if we’re also involved, we’ll work extra hard to make sure no one else gets to see it, you know?” patrick explains, squeezing your thigh as his eyes shift from yours down to your lips. “yeah, yeah, then it’ll be just as much of a risk for you as it is for us… what do you say, baby?”

and without thinking twice, you nod eagerly while hurriedly wiping your tears with the silk sleeves of your robe, feeling happy and grateful to have such caring best friends who always look out for you… <3

ੈ♡˳

[yourdandelionofthedeathknell]

The Theraprism: Good or bad?

Ya know, i've never been sure how to feel on the Theraprism, as shown in the Book of Bill. This is in large part because we get very little info on it, from any perspective other then BIll's own at least (and he is...Not a reliable narrator). Personally, I see three possible interpretations and I don't know which one is correct. To be clear, I think all of these are fairly valid: 1. Their methods seem insipid, but are actually quite effective. They seem to have been effective in the past (one of Bill's fellow patients is slated for release in the near-future apparently), and the Axolotl (who, while not exactly rich characterization himself, has, generally, been portrayed as wise and benevolent) referred to it as "what [Bill] needs the most", which would be weird if it doesn't have SOME merit. I, myself, honestly prefer this one, because I think it works better with the narrative of the Book of Bill (a book which, generally, does not encourage the reader to sympathize with Bill's plight. Pity, maybe, but the framing is very clearly that he kinda deserves this) and the schadenfreude the reader is encouraged to feel if Bill's hellish afterlife is, largely if not entirely, a self-inflicted one: That it wouldn't be particularly bad if not for his own combo of being unable to accept that he lost, that he shouldn't be allowed to do whatever he wants whenever he wants to anyone he wants, inability to form meaningful bonds with others, and, most of all, his total inability to admit to being wrong. He COULD leave at any time, if he would just actually repent, but...He's Bill, so...He won't. It just works best for me if his hell is largely self-inflicted. 2. They are harmful, possibly deliberately. This does have a fair bit of support textually. Mandatory therapy is already a pretty major ethical grey area at best (a major tenant of modern psychotherapy is that you can't make someone change unless they take the first step), they definitely engage in toxic positivity, and, of course, the "Solitary Wellness Void" is...Solitary confinement, which is a practice most modern medical institutions oppose and consider to be psychological torture. So, fair bit of support for this. 3. This is what I think was probably Alex's intent: They're a bunch of oblivious obnoxiously happy morons (as Bill himself would probably describe them) whose attempts to treat eons-old eldritch horror bad guys with puppet shows and arts and crafts is meant to be amusingly-inept rather then actively malicious, and whose effectiveness (such as it is) is down to having literally eternity to try. Kinda like what Mabel might do to rehabilitate someone. To use an analogy, think Charlie Morningstar from Hazbin, at least in the first couple episodes, where the fact that she's treating adult criminals like misbehaving children is the joke and is meant to indicate incompetence rather than malice. I get that isn't that much different from the proceeding (except in terms of "how seriously are we supposed to take this"), but still. I think all three of these have support, and, to be clear, I go with the first one not because I think it's the most supported (might be the least), but because it jives most with how I think about BIll's narrative IE as a character we're meant to, at best, pity, but not really sympathize with. I think the intent is "Bill is suffering a karmic self-inflicted punishment after all the pain and suffering he's caused", not "Bill is being medically abused and we should feel bad for him". The Book of Bill does invite readers to sympathize with Bill occasionally, but mostly past Bill, not current Bill. All viewpoints are valid, this is just trying to organized some thoughts on the subject. I sincerely hope I haven't said anything harmful here. Uh, cards on the table, I am neurodivergent, but i've never had therapy, forcefully or otherwise (although I did have an irrational fear of the possibility of institutionalization for a bit), so i'm sorta going off vibes here, sorry to say. If I said anything insensitive here, I apologize.