#and it HAS to be in some random fuck off town in the middle of nowhere where the town are just a bunch of massive haters. to you

[missmonkeymode]

I love like those slice of life games where npcs just hate you for no reason. I need character to call me a massive cunt for no reason than just being poor and new to a town.

[yokelfelonking]

Post 9/11 Trivia

Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:

There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)

On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.

People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.

As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.

Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"

People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.

"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)

People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.

On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.

Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)

EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.

Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)

And if all of this seems batshit...well, it was. But I want you to think for a moment how people react today over even trivial shit. People send death threats over children's cartoons. They call for blood if the maker of a video game had an opinion they don't like. If someone made a racist joke a decade ago when they were a teenage edgelord, folks will go after people who even associate with them. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE HARM THEY'RE DOING!?"

Now take that same level of over-the-top histrionics and apply it to the unprecedented event of passenger planes crashing into crowded buildings in America's most populous city and killing thousands of people all at once. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WE WERE ATTACKED!?"

[yuujispinkhair]

Cowboy Sukuna (Part 1)

Sukuna became a cowboy so he wouldn't have to let anyone tell him what to do. And because he wanted to put some distance between himself and his little brother so Sukuna wouldn't drag him into his mess. Sukuna is made for the lonesome cowboy life. He doesn't need anyone by his side. He isn't looking for love. At least that's what he thinks until he meets you, a pretty girl in a flowery dress and cowboy boots who somehow knows how to tear Sukuna's walls down.

Cowboy!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Cowboy AU, fluff + smut Word Count: 7.5k Playlist: Cowboy Sukuna Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, fistfights, blood. Minors don't interact. This story is inspired by @sweetlandspos fanart of Cowboy Sukuna (also this is the selfie he sends Reader). I saw him and fell in love, and I just HAD to write a story about this sexy cowboy. Divider @/benkeibear. The art in the header was used with permission from @/sweetlandspos

Sukuna grew up thinking he belonged nowhere. He can't even remember his dad and his mama didn't want him either. He was raised by his grandpa, but Sukuna was a wild one, a rebel and troublemaker, famous in his small town but for all the wrong reasons. He got all those tattoos when he was far too young, got into all those fistfights, broke all those hearts, and even got into trouble with the cops once. His gramps told Sukuna he was a bad influence on his little brother, so when Sukuna was old enough, he left it all behind and bought this old ranch in the middle of nowhere.

He renovated the old farmhouse all by himself and built his own life out here. A life he could be proud of. It's a lonely life. No wife, no kids, not even a girlfriend. Just Sukuna and his dog and horse and the cows. And lots of hard work. But it's what Sukuna tells himself he wants. The bad boy cowboy never even considered getting married. He doesn't think he is made for love. He isn't even sure he deserves it or is capable of it. Sukuna enjoys life out here in the middle of nowhere and tells himself he doesn't need anyone by his side, anyway.

If he wants to fuck, he can drive to town and flirt his way into some pretty girl's bed. It's never anything serious. Just a few hours of fun and then Sukuna is gone again. No goodbye kiss, no exchange of phone numbers. The only thing he leaves behind are some muddy bootprints on her front porch, and some cigarette ash flicked out of his car window.

Sukuna doesn't expect to ever find love or even want to find it. And he certainly doesn't think that he will meet his future wife on a random Tuesday morning in the shabby old hardware store he has been frequenting for years.

He got into his pickup truck at sunrise, driving several hours to the small town to buy some things in the hardware store, and that's where he runs into you, a sweet little thing in a flowery dress and pretty cowboy boots, wringing your hands nervously when Sukuna has some questions regarding the pond supplies he wants to buy.

He grins at you, taking his cowboy hat off and nodding at you respectfully, all polite because contrary to what he looks like with all his tattoos and the intimidating height and muscular build, he can be a gentleman if he wants to, and you seem like such a sweetheart, Sukuna thinks you deserve his best charming self.

You tell him it's your first day working here and you have to check with your boss. You apologize profusely to Sukuna, and he can't stop the smirk from spreading over his tattooed face because you are so damn cute.

He tells you, "It's okay, ma'am, I have time.", and watches you get all flustered before you hurry to the back of the store.

You return a few minutes later with a warm smile on your face and answer Sukuna's questions, showing him around and also helping him pick some other things he says he needs (which he doesn't, but he likes the way you smile at him and the way your sweet flowery perfume fills his nose anytime you move).

You even insist on helping him load the items into his pickup truck,

"See it as compensation for my earlier lack of fishing pond knowledge."

And Sukuna laughs and thanks you,

"There is nothing you have to compensate for. I am very pleased with your service."

He eyes the nameplate attached to your dress and addresses you by your name, letting it roll off his tongue in his low, velvety voice that he knows girls find sexy. Sukuna can see that you are affected by his charm, and he grins broadly at you when he tips his cowboy hat in a farewell. And you smile so sweetly at him, and Sukuna is pretty sure you really mean it when you tell him to come back again soon.

Sukuna is back in town only a week later, picking up a new saddle he ordered at the local saddler, but he drives past the hardware store on his way back, and something makes him slow down, makes him take one last deep drag from his cigarette and then flick the cigarette butt out the open window before Sukuna pulls into the small parking lot.

Sukuna tells himself it's a good idea to have a little look around when he already made the long drive into town anyway. He could use a new toolbox. The old one is still functioning, but this new one comes with a sweet girl in a cute little skirt and those shiny cowboy boots. Sukuna spends thirty minutes in the little shop until he finally sees you coming out from the back.

Your gaze meets his, and he sees the way your eyes widen just as Sukuna grins at you, tipping his cowboy hat in greeting and casually strolling over to you.

You smile brightly at him, remembering him (Of course you do. Sukuna knows he always leaves an impression), greeting him by his name, and asking him how you can be of help.

Sukuna cocks his head, a lazy smirk spreading over his handsome, tattooed face, letting his gaze travel over your pretty face and cute curves, thinking that he definitely knows some things you could help him with. He is pretty sure he could have you in his truck in no time at all, his calloused hands slipping under your cute little skirt while your pretty mouth moans his name. But something makes him hold back.

It's untypical for Sukuna. He drove all the way to town and will only be here for a few hours. Usually, he makes good use of that time to get his fill of some sweet pussy wrapped around his cock to keep him satisfied for the long lonely nights to come once he is back home again, riding over the plains, herding his cows.

But Sukuna looks at your sweet smile and your genuine kindness, and it doesn't feel right to only fuck you and then leave again to never see you again.

And so Sukuna doesn't try to get under your skirt but instead leans down to grin at you and ask you to help him pick a nice new toolbox.

He walks out of the store an hour later, not just with a new toolbox but also a new BBQ grill, some lawn chairs, and a saddle bag he could have gotten in much better quality at the saddler he just came from. But it's okay because it meant that he could spend a whole hour with you in the shitty little hardware store, letting you show him around, talking to him in your sweet voice with the thick accent, while Sukuna watched your little skirt sway around your knees.

You accompany him to his truck again, and Sukuna smirks at you like the devil that he is, asking in a teasing voice,

"Is this some new service your store offers? Helping every customer load their stuff into their cars? Or is this a special service just for me?"

His smirk grows bigger when he sees how flustered you get once again, and he adds,

"No need to get all shy on me, sweetheart. I like being your favorite customer."

You giggle nervously but smile that bright smile at him again and quickly ask him where he lives and what he's doing for a living. And Sukuna laughs and points at his cowboy hat,

"This is what I'm doing. The hat isn't just a sexy accessory."

"Oh? So you're really a cowboy?"

"Yeah, as real as you can meet one. I have my own ranch a few hours from here. Just me and my animals."

You smile at him, getting a slightly dreamy look in your eyes, telling him,

"That sounds nice."

Sukuna doesn't know why his chest feels so fluttery and warm the whole drive home. He even catches himself humming along softly to one of those stupid, catchy lovesongs playing on the country station on his shitty old car radio.

Cowboy Sukuna doesn't know what it is, but lately, he keeps coming to town more often than usual. It's Friday night, and he's sitting in the small bar with the roses on the wooden sign above the old-fashioned saloon doors.

Sukuna is drinking whiskey with some rancher who wants to buy several cows from him, when Sukuna suddenly sees you. All pretty and sexy without knowing it, in your blue jeans and the cropped blouse, laughing unrestrainedly with your girls after a long work day.

Sukuna can't take his eyes off you. He watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, feeling that strange warmth in his chest again. He's about to put his glass down and walk over to you when he sees a guy bump into you.

The asshole is acting as if it was by accident, but he is far too handsy for Sukuna's taste. Standing much too close to you, his shoulders brushing against yours, his mouth at your ear, saying something to you.

Sukuna grits his teeth.

You smile politely at the guy, laughing awkwardly, not at all like when you laugh with Sukuna. You are uncomfortable. That much is clear to see, but Sukuna can tell you are a good girl who was taught to always be nice and polite, even to that guy with the grabby hands. That pathetic worm puts a hand on your hip, and Sukuna sees red.

He slams his whiskey glass down on the table and crosses the small bar in a few large steps, grabbing that handsy guy and pulling him off you with an angry growl. Sukuna slams him into the wall, glaring at him, his voice low and dangerous,

"Get your dirty hands off her, or I'll fucking kill you!"

Your wide, surprised eyes stare at Sukuna, and that nameless guy screams and tries to punch him, but Sukuna just laughs about the pathetic attempt and drags him further away from you, grabbing him by the collar as Sukuna's right fist connects with the asshole's face.

Sukuna has always been good at fistfights. He is a rough guy, a dirty fighter, sadistic when someone pisses him off. He tried to stay out of trouble those last few years, but tonight, he is not restraining his anger, not when it comes to protecting you.

He smirks devilishly at the guy when that asshole manages to land a hit on Sukuna's face. It just manages to rile Sukuna up even more. He laughs and taunts that loser for hitting like a little boy before Sukuna attacks again and sends the guy tumbling to the floor with the next hard punch.

It's then that your small, soft hands wrap around Sukuna's tattooed biceps, and your sweet voice says his name with so much worry that it makes Sukuna stop going after that guy on the floor. He just jerks his head at the guy, telling him to get lost,

"If you know what's good for you, you better stay a mile away from that sweet lady in the future. Now apologize to her."

And the guy scrambles to his feet, mumbling a sorry before he flees from the bar and from Sukuna.

Sukuna slowly turns around, running a tattooed hand through his pink hair. He wipes his split lip on his sleeve, gives you a lopsided grin, and asks if you are okay.

And you stare at him with big, worried eyes, taking in the blood on his tattooed face, but a small smile plays around your lips as you tell Sukuna,

"Thank you for getting him away from me. I am fine... but what about you? Your lip... let me fix that, please."

You take Sukuna's large hand in your smaller one, tugging gently on it, and Sukuna follows you out of the bar.

You lead him down the road to your small house, inviting him in, not to have sex with him, but to patch him up, and somehow it feels a lot more intimate than all the times combined that Sukuna went home with another girl.

You are so sweet to him, scolding him for getting into a fight and getting himself hurt, but your fingers are so gentle when you wipe the blood off Sukuna's face and put a band-aid on his split lip. You smile softly as you trace the tattoos on Sukuna's jaw with your fingers and whisper a thank you to him.

"Thank you for protecting me from that guy and teaching him a lesson. You're a good guy."

And Sukuna laughs roughly, grinning at you and shaking his head,

"That's a first. Usually, I get called the opposite."

And you laugh with him, your soft fingers still cupping his chin and touching his tattoos oh so gently, insisting that even though he looks like a bad boy, Sukuna seems really nice.

Sukuna is so close to just pulling you on his lap and kissing you, but he refrains from doing it. Because he knows where it would lead, and for once in his life, Sukuna doesn't want a one-night stand. He doesn't want to fuck you and then drive back to his life out on the ranch to never see you again.

He doesn't want that with you. He wants to see you again, and he wants to take things slow. He wants to court you in an old-fashioned way.

Sukuna eats the homemade pie you bring him and drinks the coffee you insist he should drink before he drives back home. He thanks you politely for playing nurse for him and for feeding him, looking at you with the most charming smile he can give you with his split lip. And you tell him he is welcome and that he knows now where to find you if he ever needs someone to patch him up again.

Sukuna returns a week later to the hardware store, not because he needs to buy anything, but for you. He sees you smile when you spot him leaning casually against a wooden fence display, twirling his cowboy hat in his fingers and smirking that lazy grin at you.

You only have eyes for him, forgetting what you want to say to the customers you are serving. Looking at them in confusion and stuttering an excuse before your gaze wanders back to Sukuna. And Sukuna's smirk grows bigger.

He didn't even dress nice. He is just wearing his typical black jeans and cowboy boots, and one of the flannel shirts he always wears on the ranch. But he knows he looks good anyway. Sukuna knows the ladies love his handsome face and his tall and strong body with all those well-defined muscles from all the hard work. And his pink hair and tattoos are very popular with the country girls, too. They all get weak in the knees for a bad boy like Sukuna.

But somehow, he doesn't want to be a bad boy when it comes to you. A strange warmth spreads through Sukuna's chest when you leave the other customers standing and come over to him with that big smile on your pretty face, greeting him and telling him that it's nice to see him again.

No, Sukuna doesn't want to be an asshole or a bad boy when it comes to you. He wants to be a good man for you. He is polite to you, sweet, and respectful. A true cowboy and gentleman.

He grins his boyish grin at you, cocking his head and drawls,

"I thought I should stop by to check on you. Make sure there aren't any weird guys I have to fistfight for you."

Sukuna flirts with you and makes you laugh and giggle until your boss gives you side eyes and informs you that you shouldn't pester customers. But Sukuna turns to the man, towering over him,

"She is just helping me decide which products to buy. You shouldn't berate her but rather give her a raise. This sweet lady is the best thing about this shitty store. The only reason I keep coming back."

You burst out laughing the moment your boss has left and Sukuna thinks his stomach has never felt so fluttery. He asks you when your shift is over and if he can take you out for dinner. He is delighted when you say yes.

Sukuna waits until your shift is over and then leads you to his old pickup truck, holding open the door for you, giving you a hand, and helping you climb into it. His hand rests a bit longer than necessary on the small of your back, but you don't seem to mind.

He takes you to a cozy little restaurant that he has been to several times before. Always alone because Sukuna never went on dates in the past. But the elderly lady who owns the restaurant always tells Sukuna that she knows the type of cowboy Sukuna is from the time when she was still a young girl.

"Oh, I have had several boys like you in my life. Y'all are such handsome devils, but always breaking hearts everywhere you go because you are always running from something, and you don't even know from what. I wish for you to find the right girl one day. And if you do, bring her here."

And now Sukuna is here with you, walking into the restaurant with his arm wrapped lightly around you, catching the knowing gaze of the old lady behind the counter. She leads the two of you to a table on the patio, all romantic with wildflowers in a mason jar and fairy lights overhead.

Sukuna has never been on a real date, but he likes this. He likes to be here with you, chat with you, laugh with you, and hold your hand on the table, watching his long tattooed fingers interlace with your smaller ones, which feel so soft.

The hours slip by without either of you noticing how late it is.

When it is time to bring you home, Sukuna drives you to your house, parks the truck in front of it, and turns to you to say the typical flirty stuff that he usually says to girls, but he stops when he sees your smile, and somehow anything he usually says seems so hollow and fake, and it wouldn't be right to say it to you.

Sukuna closes his mouth again, gulping hard, the bad boy cowboy at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

This feeling is new to Sukuna. All of this is new to him. This warmth in his chest and the fluttery feeling in his stomach. And how he is so damn scared to fuck things up and lose you before you even are his.

How can Sukuna even say anything at all to you when everything he wants to tell you is so fucking raw and loaded with feelings he has never felt before? When it all makes him feel so fucking vulnerable?

Like the fact that Sukuna really enjoys spending time with you and that he wants to see you again. Or that he is pretty sure he gets butterflies when hearing your laugh. Or that he never believed in love, but he thinks he is starting to do it now.

He can't say those things, can he?

In the end, it doesn't need any words from him. You smile at him and thank him for the lovely evening, adding a bit shyly that you aren't used to going on dates, and then stutter because you realize what you said and you are worried that it wasn't really a date and you made a fool of yourself by assuming it was one.

And Sukuna can't help but grin and then do the one thing that will shut you up and hopefully ease your worries:

He kisses you right there in his truck. Cups your chin with his calloused hand and brushes his lips softly over yours. Careful, gentle. Something Sukuna usually isn't, but you bring out some part of him that was dormant until now.

Sukuna wants this kiss to be special. He wants to be gentle with you because you are gentle with him, too. You are sweet and kind. You treat him as if he is deserving of tenderness.

You make a cute, surprised sound, but don't pull away. Instead, your hand lands on Sukuna's neck, caressing the short stubble of his undercut, pulling him closer as your lips begin to move against his, too, and Sukuna can't help but smile into the sweetest kiss he ever had.

When the two of you pull apart again, Sukuna smiles at you, a genuine, soft smile, and tells you,

"It was absolutely a date. And I had a lovely evening, too, princess. Let me take you out to dinner again soon."

Sukuna watches you get out of his truck and walk to your front door. He lifts a hand to give you a little wave when you turn around in the open doorway to smile at him once again, whisper-shouting to him that you wish him a safe drive home.

Sukuna stays in his truck outside your house until the light in your living room goes on, and he knows you are safe and sound before he finally pulls out of your driveway and makes his long way home, his thoughts filled with your smile and the taste of your sweet lips and tongue in his mouth.

Sukuna stays true to the promise he made to himself and really takes things slow with you. He has to work anyway, look after his ranch, fix some fences, and ride across the plains, where he meets no other human being for several days. But you are on his mind the whole time.

He sends you pictures from his rides when he is lucky and gets a signal. Selfies of him on horseback, grinning at you with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. And some pics of some of his cows, smiling when you ask for their names.

"They don't have names. I just numbered them. But you can give them names if you like, sweetheart."

And you do. You send Sukuna the stupidest names you can think of, and he can't stop grinning,

"I sure hope you won't be in charge of naming any kids."

"Well, I will let their daddy help choose the names if he has such a problem with my name-giving skills."

And Sukuna's head spins at the implication. You're a tease in such a sweet way, and it drives him completely insane.

But Sukuna knows he drives you crazy for him, too. He knows that as much as you like the normal pictures he sends you, you also love the thirst traps he blesses you with.

The pictures where he is shirtless, all his tattoos and defined muscles on display for you, sweat glistening on his strong body, his faded, ripped jeans sitting low on his hips and doing nothing to hide the massive bulge throbbing in them.

You send him pictures, too, not as shameless as the thirst traps Sukuna sends you, but enough to drive him crazy. He has never held himself back so long, but damn, he thinks you are worth all the hard-ons he has and only his own hand to take care of them. Sure, Sukuna could drive to the next bar and find a random girl to ease that pressure, but he doesn't want it. There is only one girl he wants.

Sukuna can wait. He knows you are worth it.

And as much as he wants to have you under him, leaving scratches on his back and squealing his name in pleasure, he also wants to just talk to you or maybe take you on a little ride on his horse.

He calls you every night just to hear your voice and ask about your day, laughing about all the rude customers at the hardware store. Sukuna asks you what you had for dinner and listens to all the latest gossip your mama told you. Sometimes, he falls asleep while listening to your sweet voice and sees a text from you in the morning telling him that he sounds cute when he snores.

Maybe that's ruining the bad-boy reputation that Sukuna has all over your small town, but he doesn't give a fuck. You can see this other side of him. You are the exception, and he finds that he likes that.

Sukuna visits the town as often as his ranch duties allow so he can take you on dates. Sometimes, he drives his old pickup truck, but sometimes, he takes his motorcycle, grinning at you when he parks it in front of your house and takes off his helmet, running a hand through his ruffled hair to smooth it down again, and telling you to come hop on so he can take you on a ride. And you raise an eyebrow jokingly,

"When you said you are a cowboy, I pictured a guy on a real horse..."

And there is this happy sparkle in your eyes, and that sweet laugh falling from your lips. And fuck, Sukuna knows he is a lost man.

He grins back at you, leaning down to greet you with a slow, deep kiss before he holds out his helmet to you,

"This cowboy will let you ride his horse soon, too, but for now, let me show you a bit more horsepower."

Sukuna loves the feeling of your body snuggling against his back, your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, your hands caressing his chest and his abs through his shirt, and your loud, excited laugh when Sukuna accelerates his bike and speeds down the dirt road leading to nowhere, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt behind.

Sukuna parks his motorcycle at a pretty pond and spreads out a picnic blanket in the grass. The two of you sit down to eat something, but it only takes a few minutes before the snacks are forgotten, and Sukuna rolls on top of you and kisses you until he feels dizzy, and you sigh into his mouth.

When you look up at him and touch his face, trace his tattoos with your fingertips, and smile at him, Sukuna knows that he has never been this genuinely happy in his life. But at the same time, it scares him. It terrifies him to feel so much.

He strolls down to the pond, smoking a cigarette while looking over the smooth surface of the water, trying to calm down and stop his fears from swallowing him. Trying to stop that voice in his head that whispers to him that this cowboy should do what he is best at and just run and isolate himself and live his life in solitude.

But your sweet laugh carries to Sukuna's ears as you run towards him, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Your small hand wraps around his tattooed biceps, and you lean against his side,

"Hey cowboy, come back. I have some homemade lemonade and cake in my bag."

Sukuna turns his head to look at you, at the way you tilt your head to smile up at him, eyes full of affection. How could he walk away from this? Yeah, he is scared out of his mind of all those feelings, but he would regret it even more if he ran.

He blows out his cigarette smoke slowly as a lazy grin spreads over his face, and he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.

"Homemade lemonade? You sure know the way to my heart, huh, princess?"

He lets you take his hand and pull him back to the picnic blanket, sipping your lemonade and letting you climb in his lap and feed him the cake you baked for him, and Sukuna wraps his arms around your waist, capturing your lips in a sweet, sexy kiss, hoping you can understand the silent promises his tongue writes against yours.

All the words he doesn't dare say out loud because they scare him. But Sukuna knows it's you for him. He knows that he wants by his side. He knows you are his girl and hopes he is your boy, too. He hopes he is a man who is deserving of you and your sweetness. Sukuna promises you silently that he will work damn hard to be that man.

It takes weeks before the two of you have sex.

Sukuna takes you on another date with his old truck this time, driving far out to watch the stars with you and lying in the bed of his truck with you in his arms.

He brought you flowers. The wild ones which grow on his ranch because he feels like you enjoy them more than the ones from the flower shops, and it makes him happy to see you with something from his life.

You thanked him with a sweet kiss and put some of the flowers in your hair, laughing when they fell out again, and Sukuna picked them up again and tucked them behind your ear.

And now those flowers are already out of your hair again, strewn all over the truck bed because the two of you are so lost in your deep tongue kisses and the feeling of your bodies grinding against each other.

The flowers are forgotten, just like the stars above. The only thing you know is each other's mouths and hands that tug on each other's clothes, craving more, needing skin-on-skin contact.

Sukuna's shirt has been long gone, and yours too, leaving you only in your lacey bra and the little skirt, driving Sukuna crazy. Your hands explore the naked skin of his broad back and his biceps, and your lips trail sweet kisses down Sukuna's neck, leaving your lipstick marks on him.

And Sukuna licks and kisses the swell of your breasts above your bra, finally pulling the pretty lacey thing down to reveal your even prettier tits. He sucks one nipple into his warm mouth as he looks up at your face, grinning when he sees your eyelashes flutter and hears the cute little noises you make for him.

You straddle Sukuna's lap, smiling at him with desire burning in your eyes while your small hands wander a bit shyly over his tattooed chest, and Sukuna thinks he will lose his mind if he doesn't finally take you.

He flips you over on your back, pushes his head under your skirt, and eats you out until your legs are shaking and your hands tug on his pink hair, and you cry out his name into the night.

You look up at Sukuna with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes as you unbutton his jeans and get his achingly hard cock out, stroking him lovingly while you tell him to please make you his girl.

Sukuna has held back for so long but cannot do it anymore. Not when you look at him like that and stroke his cock like that and ask him to claim you. He pushes you down on the truck bed, his arms on each side of your head, his heavy body on top of yours, his lips claiming yours in a possessive, hungry kiss at the same time as his cock claims your sweet, warm pussy.

He takes you with hard, rough thrusts, fucking you almost feverishly once he feels your warm pussy around his cock. And for the first time in his life, Sukuna apologizes for the way he fucks. For his roughness, for his strength. But you cling to him and moan his name and tell him it's okay and that you want him exactly like this.

You leave scratches on Sukuna's back, and he fucks his seed into you over and over again. The two of you can't get enough of each other that night, making out and fucking in various positions until the sky becomes pink with the approaching sunrise, and both of you are sated and exhausted, and you slump against Sukuna's body, hugging him, pressing your tits firmly against his tattooed chest as his spent cock softens gradually inside you.

Sukuna lets his head fall back on the truck bed, his large hands lazily caressing your back, and he looks up at the sky that brings a new morning, thinking that it feels like it's a whole new life that is beginning today.

He drives you back to town an hour later, stealing glances at you the whole drive long, one tattooed hand resting on your naked thigh under your skirt, and your small hand lands on top of Sukuna's, caressing the back of his hand while you sing along to the country songs on the radio. Sukuna can't stop grinning the whole time.

But even after you start to have sex with each other, you still take time to get to know each other even better. It's fun and sexy but also deep and meaningful, and Sukuna catches himself being more open with you than he ever was with anyone before.

He tells you the truth when you ask about his family, tells you that it's messy, that he can't even remember his dad, and that his mama didn't want him either. He tells you about his little brother, who he hasn't seen in many years because Sukuna ran from home the moment he was 18. He confesses all the shit he did. All the stupid things a rebellious teenage Sukuna got involved in. All the trouble and pain he caused his family. All the regrets he has, when he looks back at his former life now.

And you take his large hand into both of yours and hold it so gently, and smile that sweet smile at him, telling him that sometimes families simply are like that. A mess.

You tell him that you like him the way he is, with all his rough edges, and that you wish Sukuna had more love in his life when he needed it the most as a child.

"But you have me now, Kuna. And I will make sure you don't feel alone."

You tear down his walls so easily, break him in the most beautiful way, and build him up again, even stronger than before, because now Sukuna knows what it feels like to be loved.

And Sukuna says those famous three words for the first time in his life.

He pulls you to him, holds you in his arms, and rests his chin on your head, swaying you softly from side to side as he murmurs those words into your hair, words he never thought he would say,

"I love you. And I want to be with you. I know it's hard to love a man like me, but I want this to work. I want you. I want us. And I will work hard for it."

He thinks he will melt when you tell him you love him too and that there is nothing hard about loving him at all.

For the first time in his life, Sukuna stays in someone's bed the whole night.

The two of you kiss at your front door, and you gently pull him inside. You kiss and laugh and playfully tease each other all the way to your bedroom, undressing each other on the way, leaving behind a trail of clothes on your floor.

You call him baby, and Sukuna thinks he will go crazy. He picks you up and carries you the rest of the way until he lays you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours.

You don't fuck that night but make love, nice and slow. You look so beautiful lying under Sukuna, your face so close to his, your small hands caressing his biceps and his muscular back while Sukuna takes you with slow, deep thrusts, unable to tear his gaze away from you and the love in your eyes when you whisper his name.

Sukuna tells you he loves you again when he is about to cum, and it feels more intense than anything else he has ever experienced. Especially when he feels you cum on his cock, too, sobbing his name and returning the "I love you" several times while you shudder in pleasure beneath him.

Sukuna doesn't let go of you the whole night. He lets you use his chest as your pillow, wraps you in his strong arms, and holds you. The wild, freedom-loving cowboy who usually runs, suddenly all tame.

Sukuna thinks he is right where he should be. He wants to stay forever in your bed and in your arms, holding the girl he loves.

Of course, a cowboy like Sukuna has to leave again in the morning. His ranch needs him. There are miles and miles of fences to fix, horses to train, and cattle to herd. But Sukuna promises to call you every night.

"And if I don't have a signal, I want you to know that I will still think of you, okay princess? Let's make a deal. Every night at ten pm, I want you to look at the sky. And I'll do the same, wherever I am, and imagine you are by my side."

And he laughs softly and hugs you to his strong body, adding,

"I will think about you every second of the day anyway. And I am damn sure you can't get me out of your mind either, huh?"

He winks at you and grins his boyish grin, and you chuckle and get on your tiptoes to kiss his grin off him.

Before Sukuna drives off, you give him a leather cord with a small charm in the form of a horseshoe, telling him you saw it on the farmers market last weekend and thought of him.

"I want to give it to you because I hope it will bring you luck and keep you safe out there on all those lonely nights and long rides."

And Sukuna leaves his bandana at your place,

"So you have something to remind you of me while I am away, princess. Wear it around your pretty throat to keep the chilly winds away and to think of your favorite cowboy."

Sukuna calls you every day just like he promised.

But out here on the plains, where Sukuna is on horseback, with only his dog running along beside him, his life still feels lonely. This solitude used to be something Sukuna chose willingly for himself. Something he thought was the only life that was right for a man like him.

But now Sukuna feels this longing inside his chest, and the questions keep filling his mind. Does a cowboy really have to be alone? Does Sukuna really have to be alone?

His ranch and his life out here are the last parts of him, which Sukuna hasn't opened to you yet. It seemed too risky to bring you here, too intimate. This is the place, after all, where Sukuna fled to so he wouldn't hurt his little brother anymore. A place he used to see as some kind of fortress that kept other people safe from Sukuna and also kept him safe from feeling too much. A place where he was free from all the complications of human interactions.

But things have changed, haven't they?

Sukuna visits you as often as he can, and he catches himself telling you more about his everyday life as a cowboy while watching you closely for your reactions. He tells you what he loves about his life on the ranch, tells you that it is a lot of hard work and that it can be tough at times, but that it is also peaceful, and that he likes that he is free out there.

"I like that I am my own boss because I really don't do well with people trying to tell me what to do."

And you laugh and roll your eyes, and Sukuna grins at you with a wink and adds,

"Well, you are the exception, baby."

And as teasing and light-hearted as it sounds, Sukuna knows that he is telling the truth. He doesn't mind if you tell him what to do. He doesn't mind if he has to take responsibility for his actions. Not when it comes to you.

You beam at him and kiss his tattooed cheek and ask in that sweet voice,

"Will you finally show me your ranch, Sukuna?"

And he knows what you are really asking is for Sukuna to finally let you in. To let this last wall tumble to the ground and allow you into his life in every way.

Sukuna feels strangely nervous when driving you to his ranch. But not because he is scared of losing his last refuge. He is nervous because he is worried you won't like the life out here in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but endless miles of uninhabited land around you and only Sukuna and his animals to keep you company.

Sukuna hopes you will like it. Because there is this small voice in his mind that whispers to him, "I want her to stay."

Sukuna watches you carefully while he shows you around his small ranch, showing you the old farmhouse he renovated, the barn he built with his own hands, and the stables he gave a new paint and a modern interior.

Relief floods Sukuna's chest when he sees the genuine smile on your pretty face and the joy when you pet his favorite horse. You turn to him, telling him that you love his ranch and praising him for turning an old abandoned farm into this pretty place.

"You are so passionate about the things you want, Sukuna, and you work hard for them. That's an admirable trait. This place is beautiful."

Sukuna smirks proudly at you, feeling this warmth in his chest again. He wraps a strong, tattooed arm around your waist and pulls you against him. And he knows exactly what he wants.

"This place is even more beautiful with you here. You remember what I said about enjoying my freedom out here? I feel free with you by my side, too. It doesn't feel like I am giving anything up when I am with you. It feels like I am gaining something."

There are happy tears shining in your eyes when you look up at him, and you smile and put a small hand on Sukuna's defined chest, right where his heart is beating strong and fast,

"I would love to live here with you, cowboy. I could help you with the crops and make sure you always have something warm to eat when you come home in the evening. I could even help with the horses and the cows, I think. And I can keep you company out here and keep you warm at night."

Sukuna doesn't believe in a God, but he thinks some kind of higher power or fate or whatever must have finally blessed him. Must have finally allowed a fallen angel like him some sort of heaven, too.

Sukuna smiles at you, a gentle, genuine smile that he never gives to anyone else, and he takes his cowboy hat off and puts it carefully onto your head,

"Then welcome to your new home, cowgirl."

SIGHHHHH, this cowboy makes me swoon 😭😭💗💗 I didn't expect this story to become so long, but I just couldn't stop writing. It was one of those moments where Sukuna took things into his hands and made me tell the whole story, and of course I do what my man wants ;)

I hope you enjoyed falling in love with Cowboy!Sukuna, too 💗

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

There will be a Part 2 in which we see our life on Sukuna's ranch.

And once again: Thank you Émilie @sweetlandspos for drawing your beautiful and sexy Cowboy!Sukuna, who inspired me to write this AU!! I hope you find joy in this story!!

[imdoingsortagay]

And They Were Roommates

Summary: Rio get's a roommate in you and suddenly she can't function.

Warnings: Smut so 18+ , Rio doing suspicious shit, Top!Rio Vidal, Bottom!reader, pet names with this women, biting, some fluff, aftercare ( because it's important),

Word count: 3.4k

a/n: i was gonna spend a good week on this fic fuck it you get it now because my professors are already on midterm talk. also thank @yourlocalsaiko for the funny ask comment they left on the sneak peek of this for influencing me to finish this. And also happy birthday to @harknessdoll. If this does good maybe a part 2 or little series ????? who knows

Happy reading

Renting a small cottage in the middle of the woods, well not middle maybe like 10 miles away from town seemed like a good idea at the time. No having to deal with noisy neighbors, having a cute little driveway to not share with anyone and not to mention not being woken up to traffic. 

It sounded like the perfect thing until you heard a loud bang that woke you from your slumber, who in the fuck was in your cottage. 

“ Fucking hell,” you mumble to yourself. Good thing Kate had recommended buying that bat incase anyone came in, bedtime you do need to actually buy a weapon of some sort or at least invest in some security. The noise gets louder as you make your way to the kitchen, hear what seems to be a lady humming a tune while she’s looking for something to eat in the fridge. 

“ You leave for a couple of years to explore and someone can think they can just move in ? In my cottage? In my home?” She mumbles to herself. 

“ IM RENTING THIS PLACE YOU ASS” you yell as you try to hit her but her reflexes are faster than you. The lady quickly grabs the bat from you, throwing it somewhere in the kitchen but what she doesn’t expect you to do is bite her back. 

“ OWWWWWWWWWWW” 

Your smile fades quickly when the intruder quickly pins you to the kitchen floor preventing you from moving or biting her again. 

“ Who the fuck are you and why are you even in my house” She asks you

“ Someone posted this place on a realtor site to rent and he’s been renting it to me for the past 6 months,” you explain,” can you let me go now, I promise not to bite you again I swear”. 

“ Just cause I might have abandoned this place 40 years ago doesn’t mean some stupid man can come and rent it to some random person,” she tells you. 

“ Does this mean I need to find another place to live?” You say after a bit of silence which makes the woman giggle. She felt bad that you didn’t know this was her home but it had been years since she had shared her place with anyone besides her ex partner. 

“ If you give me whoever rented this place from you I might let you stay,” she pauses a bit ,” whatever your name is “. 

“ Y/n and no totally will do that, he kind of gave me the ick when he was showing me places too. Like he recommended me this house in New Jersey but the vibe was off so I said no then he was flirting with me way too-“ the mystery woman covers your mouth to prevent you from yapping anymore.

“ Gonna visit this man right away in the morning y/n, he sounds terrible,” and she leaves you to head to the other bedroom,”

“ Wait what’s your name ?” 

“ Rio,” she pauses dramatically ,” Rio Vidal, have a goodnight babe”. 

________________________

After the weird encounter with Rio, she had left around 9am to go talk with Anthony the realtor, not telling you anything else besides a bye. Left you with the cottage for most of the day to finish some emails for work, clean up the mess from late in the night and even make a chicken soup for Rio, or at least for you if she didn’t eat meat. Just as a thank you for not kicking her. 

“ Get Norm the email about next month’s projection sales,” you read around to nobody inside, wondering when she’d come back. 

She’s a grown ass woman who looks like she can easily defend herself. There’s no need to worry where she might be going. Rio has known you for less than half a day I doubt she’s gonna tell you her whereabouts. 

“ God that man is such a crybaby,” Rio announces as you hear the door open, pushing the relief away when she comes towards the kitchen to the smell of chicken soup. It smelled really good, she forgot how it was to not be the only person in this home or at least have someone even cooking at all. 

Rio sees you in the kitchen, trying your very best to act chill around. 

“ Here’s this back, I took care of Bob for you, “ she casually tells you as she goes towards the stove to serve herself some soup. 

“ What do you mean ‘ take care of bob ‘ Rio? “ 

“ Don’t worry about it babe” and when you look in the bad you find a large amount of money. 

“ All your rent money from the past couple of months from that fucking idiot” rio explains , you were gonna ask either way. 

“ so does this mean you’re kicking me out ? I can pay rent don’t worry or if not I can try to find another place to move to since this is your house and all”. 

Rio thinks about it. On one hand , she’s had this house for hundreds of years so there’s no need for you to pay rent. But on the other hand, you really didn’t know that this was her house so it would be rude to expect you to leave so soon. 

You were a little cute after all so this could work in her way if she wanted. 

“ I’ll let you stay on one condition,” you nod, too afraid to say anything due to her very serious demeanor. 

“ Keep doing what you’ve been doing around the place, don’t disturb me when I’m in my room and when I need a favor you do it,” she states. Should be simple enough for you to follow. 

“ You got it pretty ?” 

“ Yes “ 

“ Yes what ? “ 

“ Yes Ma’am?” You say more as a question than a statement. 

“ Good job honey” she coos, paying close attention to the way that you blushed a bit being called the pet name. 

————

“ What the fuck are you even doing up at 7am?” 

“ Good morning to you too princess,” she says as you walk into the kitchen, your slumber being interrupted by whatever she was doing inside. 8am was enough time for you to get ready for work, especially since you do remote work for the most part. 

It’s only been a day since Rio had let you stay and to stay the change was a bit weird for you was an understatement. 

Both of you have mostly been lightly joking with each other half of the time, maybe a bit of flirting to be honest but she’s pretty cute. Doesn’t help that she’s always calling you all these pet names. 

“ Breakfast is on the table babe,” you see a perfectly set plate on the table for you,” based on what you had stocked up in the fridge”.

“ Thank you Rio,”. 

“ No problem hot stuff” she says in the sweetest tone, leaving you alone in the kitchen to question what she might have planned.

———————

One week living with Rio and so far, she’s been wonderful as a roommate. Helps with dishes when you make dinner, keeps the living room spotless, a little loud at night but nothing you can’t handle. 

For a Saturday night, Rio was unsure why you decided to spend it at home and not out like most humans would do. 

“ Reading a book and enjoying some wine ? Boring “, Rio announces as she walks into the living room in her casual fit. Choosing to wear an oversized t shirt of hers and simple pair of shorts. 

“ It’s too far for me to go out rio,” you tell the woman sitting next to you, not bothering to tell her to move. It felt kind of nice to have the other woman sit next to you and not just a pillow of yours like most of the time. 

“ Awe someone as pretty as you doesn’t ever go out?” She coos. 

“ Not when it’s again, way too far to travel to a bar,” you repeat to her and before you can even get a sip of your wine she grabs it out of your hand. 

“ What the fuck ?” You yell back at her and before you can grab it back the woman in front of you chugs it. 

“ We need something stronger babe,” she tells you as she finishes the last of the drink with no shame,” follow me “. 

You don’t say anything when she grabs your hand, leading you to the one room in the cottage that she forbid you to going into, her room. 

Even before she had shown up back to her place, Bob had told you the room could not be unlocked and the windows were covered to anyone passing by and you felt weird about trying to unlock it yourself. When Rio had shown backup you never even got a peek at the inside of her room either so you were a bit excited to see what it was like. 

Was it just her room ? What colors did she choose? Is it decorated all nice or a bit of a mess ?  Did she have anyone in it before you were ? 

Wait, you guys are just roommates you can’t be thinking about that way about Rio at all. 

“ Close your eyes I can’t have you knowing how to open my room door can we princess???” She teases you. God you were not gonna survive this. 

A couple of seconds later you hear the door click open, Rio grabs your hand to lead you into her room and moves you a bit so you can stand in the middle of it. 

“ Open those pretty eyes for me,” you give yourself a couple of seconds to adjust to the light in the room to see the woman. Of course the wall are in her signature green color, a nice dark green to compliment the rest of the room. Paintings you assumed she made herself in the spare time, a mini fridge with what you assumed is where the alcohol she was talking about and a nice queen sized bed in the middle of the room.

“ Your’re the first person that I’ve had in here since my ex by the way y/n,” she starts off, pointing at the bed for you to sit in,” Your room was a guest room we’d use for our friends and this was our room. “ 

“ What happened to your ex ? “ you as casually and Rio makes a face at your question. 

“ Wait fuck I didn’t meant to intrude I am so-“ 

“ Baby it’s all good with me,” she assures you,” we broke up after ten years together because she wanted to explore other option in the world or whatever she fucking meant by that”. Least you know she’s single. 

“ Last time I heard about her, she was living in some town with her current girlfriend and their two cats. Which good for her I guess, I mean she was never the committed type when we were together, all I say is good fucking luck to her current gal or whatever,” she mumbles the last part while looking for a specific alcohol bottle for the two of you. The atmosphere room was pleaseant, Rio must have worked a lot on the room to make it as comfy as she could. 

“ You have any ex’s you wanna talk about y/n ? We only know the basics things about each other” Rio questions after finding the specific bottle of alcohol she was hiding for special occasions. She quickly finds her way onto her bed, placing herself on the right side of where you were sitting, as always leaving no space between the two of you. 

“ How strong is that bottle of alcohol in your hand?” You ask and rio smiles. 

This was gonna be fun. 

_________________________

“ You did not fucking steal Lilia’s jewelry from her cause she accidentally stole some of your food ?” You laugh as she tells the story. 

“ She was being petty with me for a tiny thing I did when we were living together y/n, and all I did was just give her a piece of her medicine is all” she shrugs then takes a big swig of the bottle infant of you both. It had been three hours since Rio had let you in her room and the both of you were talking about whatever as a way to get to know each other. An hour into this hangout session or whatever you both want to call it, rio had suggested you both cuddle with each other and in your tipsy mind you decided why it. 

On the inside, Rio appeared to you as quiet, funny and a little bit mysterious if you had to be honest with yourself. What you didn’t know was that she had been internally been freaking out since she found you here in the cottage. She felt bad kicking you out but it had been a couple of years since she’s had anyone here since Agatha. Rio hadn’t had anyone in the house since then and even if she did for a one night stand, she’d use the guest room to do it and not her own bedroom, making up all sorts of excuses as to why she didn’t have anyone in her own bedroom when she knew the real reason. 

She was afraid. 

Agatha had been her first relationship all those years ago when they met in Salem, built this house together from the ground up, shared so many happy memories together here then decided she wanted to leave Rio because she wanted to do more than just stay in Salem. She was other that woman but her insecurities got the best of her and she hasn’t had a meaningful relationship since. 

“ I don’t know how that would could fucking leave you when you look so fucking hot,” you blurt out of nowhere which takes Rio out of her thoughts. Well, at least she knows that you feel the same way. 

“ You think I’m hot ? “ Rio asks quietly enough for you to hear. 

“ The mysterious demeanor of yours, the hot ass outfit you had when you got here, and not to mention when I first met you in not to good circumstances you kind of made me blush so much” you explain while rubbing her arm. Her mind was going places as you were cuddling up next to her, yapping about how hot she was and then casually rubbing her arm as well.

Both of you were drunk and she wanted to test the waters and see how much she can get out of you, no harming trying to get any information out of you. 

“ How about you come sit on top of me while we talk then princess? “ She asks with a bit of a smile. 

You don’t think about it too much, Rio guiding you on her lap so you don’t accidentally do anything. 

“ Rio did I ever tell you that you look super nice from this angle , like really nice,” you giggle. It’s been years since anyone has said anything nice about her and she’ stumped with how to respond.

“ Can say the same thing about you sweet thing ,” the woman under you says in the most cool way, only eliciting a giggle from you and a confused face from her. 

“ Did you forget to flirt Rio? for a witch who’s been alive longer than I have , you sure don’t know how to flirt with someone when the opportunity arises, “ you say in a joking manner to the older woman. 

“ I might not know how to flirt but there is something else I can do babe,” she teases. 

“ Oh and what’s that honey?” You ask in a sweet tone. 

In an instant, Rio quickly changes positions so that she’s on top of you, pinning your arms above your head so that you don’t do anything with your hands. 

“ You look super pretty under me princess,” she holds your chin in place with one hand while other hand is still pinning you into the mattress, not that you’re complaining or anything. 

“ Just fucking kiss me Vidal,” you beg and you feel the other woman’s lips on yours in an instant. She forgot how good it felt to be in bed with someone she actually had some sort of attraction to. She can’t handle the way that you whine into the kiss, wondering what other pretty noises she can get out of you. 

“ God do you know how many times I fucked myself in this bed baby? We’ve barely known each other but your’re something special baby,” she tells you as she starts to kiss your neck, no shame in leaving marks all over your neck for anyone to see. The sound of your moans and whines while she marks your neck, Rio feeling you grind into her body to set any sort of friction and the feeling of her hands roaming your body make you never want to leave her bed anytime soon. 

“ Take this thing off of your body baby,” she says helping you get up,” I wanna see all of you”. You chose the right night to not wear a bra because the moment she sees that you had nothing underneath your shirt, Rio is on your tits. Sucking on your left nipple while tasting your other nipple with no mercy. 

“ Be good for your mistress while I suck on these titties babe,” she orders,” then maybe I’ll fuck you with my fingers, or you can grind on my thigh so I can see you fall apart above me”. 

“ Fingers! Please! I’ll be good for your mistress” you whine under her touch, you would let Rio let you do anything to you if it meant being pleasured by her . 

“ Good choice baby,” She says happily, her right hands going into your sleep shorts to feel just how wet you were for her. 

Still got it, she thinks to herself.

“ I didn’t even do much to you baby and your pussy is soaked,” she smirks and you moan as she continues to tease you. It won’t take long for you to cum with Rio teasing your pussy combined with her dirty talk. Rio wastes no time in taking off your shorts and underwear before she inserts two fingers into your wet pussy, groaning at the way her fingers go in easily. 

“ Maybe next time we do this you can let Mistress eat this pussy,” she says and you let out a long moan,” god just the way your finger are taking me just makes me want to make you cum over and over again”. 

It doesn’t take long for you to go over the edge with her fingers going at a fast pace, Rio taking in the sight before her. Praising you as she helps you down from your high, no shame in tasting yourself on her fingers, excited for the text time she might actually be able to taste the real thing from the source. 

“Brain feels floaty Rio ,” you mumble to the other woman as she brings you a bottle of water and a small rag to clean you off. You take the bottle with no arguments as she cleans you up. Rio helps you up a bit to help you into your shirt again, internally giggling as how cute you look at her. Looking at her like she was the only person on earth. She felt happy to be seen like that from someone after years of being alone. 

“ How you doing baby?” She asks and you mumble as she pulls you closer to her body. 

“ Fine,” you yawn ,” sleepy”. 

“ Okay baby,” she chuckles,” We can talk tomorrow about us”. 

“ I’d love that Rio,” you say before you fall asleep in her arms and Rio falls asleep not long after with a big smile on her face.

[yeonzzzn]

everytime ; yang jungwon

pairing: drummer!jungwon x afab!reader word count: 2.2k synopsis: when jungwon and his bandmates are having a show in town, you can’t help but feel that magnetic pull towards him. warnings: swearing, suggestive content, kind of a bit angsty, jungwon and reader are toxic towards each other, wonnie is secretly down bad for reader, making out, finger sucking, reader licks won’s drumstick, MINORS DNI!!!!

You roll your eyes at his smirk, crossing your arms and facing away from him, staring at your best friend, “Out of all the things we could have done tonight, you chose this?!” 

She gives you a teasing smile, “What? Can’t handle seeing Jungwon?” 

As if the mention of his name could be heard from the crowd, Jungwon whistles out, clearly directing it to you. 

Some of Jungwon’s fangirls got their panties all wet and fanned their faces with their hands and giggled amongst themselves thinking that the whistle was for them. You groaned and rolled your eyes again, “I hate him and hate his fans even more.” 

Jungwon whistles again from the stage and you finally look at him, glaring. He continued his smirk at you, twirling his drumstick between his fingers, puckering his lips, sending you a kiss. 

You give him a fake smile and lift your middle finger at him, only for the corners of his lips to form in a smile, a small chuckle escaping his mouth as he looks down at his drum set. Jungwon loved the reactions he got out of you, mostly the reactions of pissing you off and being between your legs. 

It wasn’t always like this between the two of you, at least not at first. It was a random Friday night and your best friend dragged you out of your apartment and off to the club all because it was hosting a debut band's first showing. That’s how you met Jungwon. 

The moment you locked eyes with him from the front row, there was a spark that hit the both of you. Jungwon couldn’t keep his eyes off you and same to him for you. You found him breathtaking. Loved the crease of his dimple every time he smiled and was moved by the way he played the drums. He has such a talent and love for the instrument, you could see it in the way he played. With how the drumsticks beat against the drums and how he smiles and moves his body with each beat. He was born for music, it didn’t take a genius to see it. And after the show, Jungwon made it his mission to approach you and you both hit it off greatly. You danced close together all night and woke up beside him in his bed the next morning. You left his apartment that day with his phone number and the schedule for his band’s concerts and where they were playing. Your best friend also ended up hooking up with their guitarist, Jake. It seemed perfect, because you wouldn’t have to show up to these events alone and your best friend also would be potentially dating a band member too? How could it be passed up? 

Jungwon was perfect in every way, that was until…well…until he wasn’t. 

As time went on, the crowds grew bigger, the venues got bigger, and the more Jungwon stopped speaking to you. The everyday texting went to him only texting you only when he wanted to get his dick wet. You even had to get the information on their next shows from your friend. His attitude changed more and more as his follower count went up on Instagram. Jungwon showed his true colors and the next time you saw him, he had a flock of females in his arms, throwing out smirks, whistles, and blowing kisses your way as if to taunt you. 

And the rest is history. 

But every time you saw him, you still felt that magnetic pull. Every. Single. Time. He had a way of drawing you in, flirting with you, and trapping you in places you couldn’t escape, using any chance he could get to pin his body to yours. You have to admit, the sex is fantastic. It always left you giddy and folding like a fucking teenager. And that’s why you hate him so much. For making you feel things he doesn’t deserve to feel from you. 

And tonight wasn’t any different, except you’ve learned how to act like a bitch around him to conceal your deep-down feelings. The last you heard about Jungwon and his bandmates is that they went on tour. You forced yourself to not keep up and told your friend to keep all information to herself. So yeah, you had no idea they were even back in town, let alone playing at this club that started it all for them. 

Jake blew kisses out to your friend, her doing the stupid “grabbing” it and placing it to her heart. Honestly, it made you want to throw up, at how cute they are. You might be giving them the stink eye, but deep down you were truly happy for them. Jake never misses a chance to post her all over his socials. They were truly happy. 

“Hello, everyone,” Jay, their lead bass guitarist, smiled big, “It’s nice to be back in town after a tour!” 

The crowd cheered and you had to fight the urge to cup your hands over your ears. 

“You all ready for a fucking good time tonight?!?” Heeseung, the keyboard/pianist of the group, yelled into his mic, clapping his hands together. 

The crowd went batshit crazy. 

“Woah,” Jake smirked, leaning closer to his mic as he tuned his guitar, “That wasn’t loud enough, was it guys?” 

Sunghoon, their lead singer, leaned against Jake, bringing his mic close to his lips, “We sat, are YOU READY FOR A FUCKING GOOD TIME TONIGHT!?!” 

And the crowd went wild. Oooohh!!! Ahhh!!!

You felt like setting the venue on fire. 

“Jungwon,” Jay pointed at the drummer, “Set it off.” 

“Say less,” he smirked, lifting his arms above his head and slapping the drumsticks together four times, keeping direct eye contact with you until you finally looked away. 

You always loved their music, and tonight made you fall more in love with it. Even with all that love, the moment the concert ended and the lights came back on and the boys left the stage, you decided to take your leave, “I’m going to head out,” you said to your friend, preparing to dip before Jungwon could speak to you. 

“Nope!” she smiled, pulling two VIP badges from her bag, “You aren’t going anywhere!” 

You stared at her, confused as to why the fuck she thinks this is a good idea, “No.” 

She pouted, “YN, come on! It’s been a year!” 

Yeah, not long enough. 

“You know how I feel about this,” you cross your arms, hoping she’ll change her mind. 

But unfortunately for you, the badge was around your neck and you stood backstage with your nose scrunched being face to face with Jungwon. 

“I think your nose is broken,” he tapped the tip of his drumstick on your nose, “What is that sniffer smelling?” 

“You, obviously.” 

“I smell pretty great, don’t I?” 

You raised a brow, “If you consider shit good smelling, then maybe your sniffer is broken.” 

Jungwon laughed, “You never change.” 

You looked away from him, spotting your friend with Jake hand-in-hand as they smiled and made loving faces at each other. 

Jungwon stared off at them too, “I’m happy for them,” he whispered, twirling the drumstick, “They are good for each other.” 

You nodded, “They are good together.” 

Jungwon faced you, studying the curves and structures of your face, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but settled with, “Could be us,” in a teasing tone. 

You scoffed, tilting your head at him, “Why us? When you have a whole crowd of whores waiting for you to walk the floors of the club.” 

He smirked, sliding the tip of the drumstick against the side of your face, “Hmm, but weren’t you one of those whores at some point?” 

You pushed the drumstick away, “Fuck off, Won.” 

God he loved hearing his nickname from you fall out of your mouth, like it belongs there. 

“Such a dirty mouth,” he murmurs, once again touching the tip of the stick to your nose and moving downward, “What should we do about this mouth of yours?” 

He ran the stick to your bottom lip, pulling it down. The moment he saw the corners of your lips curl, he was done for. 

You push your tongue out, tasting the woody on your buds, and lick up, flatting your tongue against the drumstick the higher you get to the tip. Jungwon was fighting to not fold at this dirty act. His brain remembers the last time you went down on him and sent shivers down his spine. 

He didn’t even realize the soft moan that left his lips and jaw slightly slack until the noise came out. 

Jungwon might know how to tease you, but you sure as hell know how to play the game back. 

“Shit, YN,” he whispers, quickly pulling the stick off your tongue, “Don’t do that.” 

“Sorry, need me to go get one of your fangirls to do it instead of me?” 

Absolutely not. 

Jungwon chuckles, “Why do I need their mouths when yours is right here?” 

You roll your eyes, focusing them off towards the stage, “Still a fucking asshole.” 

Jungwon softened at those words. He hated himself more than you hate him. Hated himself so fucking badly for the shit he put you through. For letting the fame get to his head. For letting you go so easily and his actions that caused it. He remembers the night Jake busted down his door yelling at him because your friend called saying you were in tears because of his actions. It tore him apart. 

Truthfully, Jungwon was terrified to lose you. So scared you’d see his imperfections or how much he loved the attention his fans gave him that you’d run. You single-handedly were the best thing to walk into his life. He thinks about you every single day and wishes time machines were invented so he could go back and have a redo with you. 

But time machines don’t exist. And neither does his second chance with you. Jungwon accepted the only way he could have you was the hate sex or the aggressive make-out sessions when he saw you. Being on tour the last year was torture and he was one hundred percent sure you blocked his number and all his socials. 

Not that he blames you. 

“YN,” he calls for you, touching the tips of his fingers to your elbow, slowly wrapping them around your arm, “Please.” 

You knew what he was asking of you. To give in to him. And like an idiot, you leaned into his touch, giving in. 

Like a moth to a flame. 

Everytime. 

You go back to him everytime. 

It took one look into his brown eyes, seeing the feelings he has that he never speaks out loud. His hand finds yours, locking your fingers together and pulling you as he steps backward, you idly following behind him. 

You could feel your friend and Jake’s eyes following the both of you, along with Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon catching a glance as Jungwon pulls you out the back door, disregarding his drumsticks on a nearby table. 

One moment the cool night summer air hit your skin, the next you were straddling Jungwon in the back seat of his car. Lips moving against his and hands roaming up and down your back, squeezing your waist gently each time. 

A whole year without feeling you against him, a year without kissing you and he felt like was losing his mind. His body on fire just by having you pressed closely to him and your hands in his hair. Words stuck in his throat on all the things he wished he could say to you but settled with kissing you so deeply, tenderly, and passionately. The pull you always felt towards him, he also felt with you. Never being able to get away from you. 

Going back to you everytime. 

No one else was you. And never would be. 

Jungwon settles his hands on your hips, pressing you harder down on him and bucking his hips up. Your jaw went slack at the sensation of his length against your heat, Jungwon finding it the perfect moment to slide his index and middle fingers into your mouth, pressing down your tongue. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, wrapping your lips around his digits, “So dirty, baby,” he whispers, spreading the digits to feel your tongue move between them, “I’ve missed you so much.” 

He doesn’t know how the words managed to escape his mouth, but the soft moan that vibrated his fingers told him well enough you missed him too. Because you did, truthfully. 

The loss of his fingers leaving your mouth had you pouting, but his lips pressed back to yours, moving in perfect rhythm. You don’t know how much time has passed, how or when your clothes ended up in the front seat of his car, but you didn’t care. The warmth of his body, hands grazing your skin, and tongues dancing together were all that mattered. 

“Can I have you?” he whispers against your lips, never once taking what you didn’t want to give out. 

“Please, Wonnie,” you whisper back, “I need you.” 

And oh man, how badly he needed you. 

Neither of you would ever understand it, this pull towards each other. Or how whatever god keeps bringing you two back together. Never would understand truly how deep both your feelings run. 

But secretly, both you and Jungwon hope for a second chance. 

Everytime.

— tags: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns

@in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi

@eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty

@ladyartemesia @criminalyun @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @vixialuvs @onlyhyunjin

@enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng

@moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae

@kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip

@moon0fthenight @jakeflvrz @021894s @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @surrik-i

@heeseungsbm @niki-riki-nishimura-riki

[a-hazbin-reader]

K so I loved your egg and dog, why not next a real kid. The cannibal kids, like the kids adore y/n when ever she comes to town to visit. They do multiple fun activities like makeing flower crowns or just somthing as simple as hopscotch!

(Proves y/n would be a good mom.)

Y/N would be a good mom!! I believe in her!!

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Children in mild danger, Cartoonish antics, Reader wants children, Alastor being possessive, Sad implications

Description: 👆⬆️

Alastor likes taking you to Cannibal Town, he likes that everyone there loves you nearly as much as he does

He likes showing you off and letting Rosie brag about you for him

Because she totally brags about you, not letting Alastor get a word out to say it himself

And the children all listen to Rosie so they quickly turn their attention on you with sparkling eyes and grabby hands

And you are immediately enamored with them too, giving them tight squeezes and gentle pecks on their chubby cheeks

It's adorable that the children have taken such a shine to you, really it is

"Y/N! Y/N! Come play with us!"

"Alright~ Alright~"

Not the littlest one leading you by holding onto your finger

And the way you indulge them just makes his heart melt, watching you play along with their antics

You mend their clothes for them, bandage their boo-boos, bring them snacks so they aren't tempted to gnaw on each other

Or you

Plus it gives him time to chat with Rosie or shop for surprise gifts for you so he doesn't necessarily mind it

Except those kids never seem to run out of energy or get sick of your attention

Sometimes he finds you surrounded by them, all of you snuggled up together and relaxed

Are those flowers in your hair?

Yes, yes they are.

Or you'll seek him out, one child on your shoulders and another in your arms, both asleep

But your husband wants to take you home and get some snuggles with you for himself

And cannibal children are fucking ruthless when it comes to something they want so he has to get creative to get his wife back

"Here~! Have some scissors! Run as fast as you can with them~!"

"ALASTOR!"

"Oh fuck-"

They 100% fight back though, those children are smart and ruthless, quick to realize Alastor is competition

That's part of why he likes the cannibal children so much tbh

They will literally throw him in a well if it means spending five more minutes with you

It becomes a cartoonish war between Alastor and the children, one with little malice but many dangerous antics on both ends

With you in the middle

You even start to play along, picking different sides at random and turning things into a game

It's totally not an excuse to watch your husband play with children and it definitely doesn't make your heart ache

Once Alastor stops to realize how you're looking at him and sees how much warmth your gaze holds then he starts to understand something

Something that makes his heart throb a little but he tucks it away for when you two are alone

Alastor starts to join you in hanging out with the children after that, enjoying the maternal side of you more than he would care to admit

And seeing him act even remotely fatherly is obviously doing things for you so that's a bonus for him too

You two are constantly followed by a gaggle of children now, the two of you looking like duck parents

If you run into any of the overlords then Alastor will pit the kids against them, telling them to get their Aunty/Uncle

Bonus points if its Vox and they take off a piece of him and bring it back to Alastor

They love biting their Uncle Vox~

They even visit you two at the hotel sometimes, all of them storming the building and wreaking havoc until they find your room

Not all of them trying to sneak into bed with you two as silently as possible

Okay no-

He's going to start locking doors now

Go ahead, old man they'll just break them down

Alastor totally doesn't make them Charlie and Vaggie's problem afterwards just so that he can have some peace

More cuddles with his wife please

"Alastor...we should get the children home..."

"Five more minutes, my dear~"

How can you say no to him when he's kissing your neck like that?

Five more minutes

He's amused when you try to explain away the love marks on your neck and shoulders in a PG way

Kids ask the silliest questions, don't they?

You always sigh happily at the end of the day once the kids have gone home, leaning on your husband

You look tired but happy, Alastor committing the look to memory

He catches you staring at the kids fondly and looking at baby clothes a little more often

Maybe you hold a baby for a little too long, voice a little too thick with emotion

It's obvious to him that being around the children makes you happy but also makes you wish for something more

And all he wants is his wife to be happy

So maybe he should have that conversation with you that he's been putting off for awhile

Alastor isn't really a coward, but when it comes to difficult conversations with you, he's definitely reluctant

He doesn't like to see you get worked up and if the conversation goes where he thinks it's going to go then...you're gonna get upset

Waits until the two of you are snuggled up together in bed, his arm wrapped snuggly around you

You're nearly asleep, happily breathing in your husband's scent and lazily stroking his chest

"Y/N...do you want a family with me?"

Now you're wide awake

🥹🥺🥹 literally me after this

[mcondance]

listen…hear me out…i’m imagining stu falling for a real sweet girl but this girl is like yuck i know your reputation playboy and since he’s obsessed with the chase he’s really gunning for it maybe even calling her as ghostface, getting her scared just so stu can swoop in and be like awh poor baby here i’ll keep you safe <3 big mean ghostface can’t get ya when im around

we should form a collaboration. (this got so long anon. i blame you. 18+) this idea has my brain turning like it gets him going so bad to scare you and then be able to come back and be your savior. it appeases the side of him that likes the chase, and the side of him that likes being in control. i think they’re both linked to his need for dominance and his sadistic nature so this is a win win for him.

you know him through sidney’s boyfriend billy, but you’ve never said more than a couple of words to each other outside of the friend group. aware of his reputation, your answer to his question is easy.

you tell him no, that you wouldn’t touch him with a 3-and-a-half foot pole. (he responds in typical stu fashion. he slaps a hand over his chest, expressing how hurt he is by your rejection, a knowing smile etching across his face.)

and so begins the chase. you turn him down over and over again, inviting sidney to the dates he asks you on, saying that the movie he wants to see with you just isn’t your taste— even if he knows he heard you talking to sid about how you wanted to see it just the week before, stupid little excuses to avoid everything he asks you.

he doesn’t mind. your rejections of his advances let him feel the way he does when he’s shrouded in that fearful black cloak, coming up with more and more ways to get you.

he keeps his distance— ghostface, that is. stu doesn’t want to scare you yet. with occasional phone calls that he directs to more people than just you, he lets you off easy, makes it seem like it’s just random.

but he’s getting a little anxious, and he’s always been impatient. he wants you.

billy and sidney are out of town for the weekend. and you’re terrified, more and more people close to you have been turning up dead. you resort to asking stu to stay with you for the weekend.

if he gets you to fuck him while he’s “protecting” you from ghostface? god he’d feel so good. he never forgets his alter ego, the slasher that terrifies your sleepy little town, but playing as your loving, caring little “friend” is fun too. he thinks you’re kinda stupid, to let him stay over at your house under the guise of keeping you safe.

you’d changed into your house clothes when you both got to your house, telling him not to touch anything while you were gone. when you came out he was in a t shirt and shorts, and he looked awfully good.

you’d let him have some of your snacks, throwing a bag of hot chips at him and perching on the other end of the living room sofa. you’d turned on some long ass video essay, and he actually found it sort of interesting, quizzing you on what certain stuff meant before you got tired and wanted to sleep.

he thinks, maybe you do have a thing for him. why else would you let a freak like him stay over? whatever the case may be, he’s here. in your pretty pink and white bedroom, he almost scoffs at the softness of it all.

“‘s cute.”

“yeah. i put blankets and shit on the couch. you sleep there.”

his lanky body barely fits on the small chair, but he knows he won’t be there too long, so he doesn’t complain.

the blanket you gave him smells like you, and he basks in it. your room is silent, for a while. in the darkness, your mind gets to you and you’re so scared even with stu right there.

“stu,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“can you come sleep over here? i’m scared.”

there it is.

“yeah, ‘f course.” he feigns genuine sympathy, though you’re smarter than that and no matter how hard he tries, there’s always a sliver of depravity peeking through his words.

you scoot from the middle of your bed to the one side, lifting the covers up to let stu take the other side. too terrified to even get smart with him, you welcome him into your bed.

what a terrible mistake you’ve made.

in the light streaming through your windows, he looks gorgeous, blue eyes gazing softly at your worried expression.

“hey,” he starts, reaching out to rest his hand on your shoulder. you don’t shrink away. you’re frozen. “i got you. promise i’ll keep you safe.”

he’s full of shit. but it works.

“can you just. . just hold me. don’t make it weird.” you scoot closer to him.

“i won’t. come ‘ere.”

shifting, you move until your back is pressed to his front. he wraps his arms around you, cradling you and your fragile psyche in the palm of his hand.

“d’you think he’ll try and come for me?” you ask him.

“i dunno. but i promise i’ll do everything i can t’keep you safe.”

god, he impresses himself sometimes.

“thank you.” you whisper, the words stuck in your throat.

“no problem.” you can feel him looking at you, can see him out of the corner of your eye.

with his arms wrapped around you, all the feelings you’ve gained for him over the past weeks come to a head. he’s warm behind you, and he’s holding you just tight enough.

you twist around to where you can see him, and if you were standing your knees would have buckled from his gaze.

“if i let you kiss me, would you promise not to make it weird?”

“promise.”

“okay,” you breathe. and you kiss him.

what a terrible, terrible mistake you’ve made.

it all goes so fast from there. one kiss turns into many and you’re turning around so you can face him all the way.

he’s got you on your back and his hand down your shorts before you know it. his lithe fingers toy with you, his mouth swallows every single one of your sounds, his body provides you comfort, a distraction from the murderer desecrating your safe town.

you come for him. you make a mess on his fingers, the ones he knows are soaked with blood. he could almost shout from how elated he is to have you wrapped around his fingers.

over you he moves, pulled by his collar on top of you and to your lips again. he wants to be smug about it, to note the lack of 3-and-a-half feet between you two, but he doesn’t.

instead, he kisses you like a normal boy would kiss a girl he liked. instead, he professes his protection when you make him promise again.

instead, he kisses you through the stretch of him entering you. “‘s okay, you got it. doin’ so good.” he could blow his load now, at the sight of you in pain and pleasure, at the sound of your hisses and deep breathes.

he slides home. inches deep inside you and even farther in your mind, he fucks both. he’s done this before, fucked a girl in a show of devotion that she’ll fawn over, a false bridge of vulnerability that he inwardly laughs at. it brings him satisfaction he can only get one other way.

you feel safe. safe as he pushes his hips against yours, his cock kissing and sliding against every electric spot inside you. his hand is warm on your cheek, cupping your face and the other is firm on your hip. you whine with each rock into you, body tingling, ears prickling as he groans in your ear. sounds he’s only ever heard on the other end of the phone.

with slow, calculated moves he makes you come again, and god it feels good. in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed, cause all it took was being afraid for your life and stu got you where you know he wanted you.

but stu’s been in this situation enough times to know what comes next, and how to prevent it. it’s easy, kissing you before you have the chance to keep thinking and fucking you to another orgasm.

it happens again the next night. battered and paranoid, you’re being played into his arms and you don’t even know it. you’re embarrassed about it, but in your clouded mind it feels genuine. it feels like stu really cares. at first it didn’t, but now that he’s still coming around even after he got you in bed, maybe he does care.

sidney comes home and stu goes back to his and billy's place. you think you can calm down with sidney back and stu and billy coming over occasionally. you let stu stay the night in your room sometimes, and he gets what he wants from you again.

your neighbor's killed. what the fuck, when will this end? this time, stu comes over, and he stays. you can't sleep a night without him. you think you're being targeted. the only time you feel peace is when stu's fucking your mind away. you’re reliant on him. in his absence all you feel is fear.

the phone calls continue, and stu’s there to answer them, telling whoever’s on the other end to go fuck themself. again, he plays you into his arms. “don’t think about him. think about me.” he tells you, guiding your face from the phone beside your bed to his, and he lets you close the gap. he likes letting you make the first move. it fills him with pride at his psychotic deception, the way he’s turned you into exactly what you said you’d never be.

he thinks about sneaking out to don the cloak, showing up at your doorstep just to see the horror in your eyes. he resigns to dialing your number when you’re out, calling you and listening to your voice as you realize who’s on the other line. he follows you out sometimes and watches your paranoid moves, blood coursing hot through his body every time you look over your shoulder.

at your house, he comforts you when you crumple into his arms, suggests that maybe, you shouldn’t go anywhere without him. you accept.

god, what have you become. if you’re not full of stu then you’re full of terror, and he takes pleasure being the bearer of both of these things. you belong to him, your thoughts, your body, your feelings, it all belongs to him.

he loves to hear you go over his and billy’s crimes over and over again, lives for the disgust and fear in your voice when you recount the murders. he could probably get off to it, to your sad little words. and at night, he revels in being the only one that can make you feel okay.

you’ve become the perfect victim, and he didn’t even have to flash his knife. maybe he’ll keep you around.

[enigmatist17]

I've never written Deadlock before, but RatchLock(?) in the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon has me by the throat bc Ratchet is my #1 babygirl of All Time ❤️❤️❤️

My other fics I've done in said AU 1 2

---

Ratchet was old.

Sure, he still had a good 50 to 60 years left in him, but hoy boy he was old. He knows most of that "aging" happened when he worked with the mecha program, and while it had been the highlight of his life, the dark road they had started to turn down wasn't for him.

Pilots dying in dozens from all sorts of ways, the worst being the degradation of their minds from the very machine used to defend humanity

Bright-eyed rookies turning hollow and their spark burned out, most leaving with eyes unseeing inside the same black bag.

Demands for more, demands to integrate human and machine, demands to take away their humanity to win

Demands that still haunt his dreams, especially when old superiors ambush him with a gaggle of his new students and interns in his tow.

His town, dammit!

Most of them watch Ratchet spend the rest of the day cursing up a storm that could make any sailor blush while slamming things down, everyone escaping when he eventually made a vague motion to the door. He goes for his bottle of whiskey once he makes sure the last student drives off with some friends, taking a seat in the middle of the shop floor as he pours himself a generous glass, setting the bottle by the side of his chair.

"Does Ratty have all his toys away~?"

"For now." Ratchet rolled his eyes as he took a sip, able to hear the bay door behind his chair rattle before opening with a slight screech. To a normal person, the sight of what appeared to be an unpiloted mecha slipping into some random repair shop would have caused a bit of a ruckus, but Ratchet is unbothered as he takes another sip of his drink. "Make sure you close the door this time."

"I leave it open one time." The mecha scoffs, glowing red eyes cycling in exasperation as the bay door is closed with a slight tug, the loud crash of metal on concrete making the human in the room pinch the bridge of his nose. "Oops."

"If I had a wrench within reaching distance..." The mecha grins as it crosses the shop floor, unapologetic as they sit on the floor across from the bioengineer. "Any luck today?"

"I was able to take out two scouts, should give me enough energon for a few cycles." Ratchet watches as two glowing cubes are pulled out from a seemingly endless storage space inside one arm, shown off before they're placed back inside. "I've survived off less."

"I'm still working on a synthetic version, but no luck." A flicker of regret crosses Ratchet's face, and the mecha reaches over to poke the top of his head. "Hard to create an alien food source, apparently."

"You're still trying, I'll take that." The mecha croons, glowing eyes watching Ratchet take another sip with a sort of purring noise.

No, not a mecha, an honest-to-god alien known as a Cybertronian.

"You seem upset." While the strange organics lacked an EMF field, Deadlock didn't need one to see the annoyance in those pretty optics of his human.

"Just some of the usual bullshit." Deadlock raised an optic ridge and stared, his ornery human staring right back with a scowl. "Got somethin' on my face?"

"You don't get this grumpy over the "usual" bullshit." Deadlock leaned forward with a slight tilt of his helm, the low rumble of his engine getting the other to relax just enough to consider it a victory. "Ratty~"

"Stop calling me that, my name is Ratchet." The Cybertronian only grins, reaching forward to poke the man in his chest.

"I don't like you being upset." Metal that should not be that expressive molds into a pout that would rival his little niece, and had he not seen Deadlock rip out a part of one of the alien threats (Quintesson he's been told) with those sharp teeth, he might find it cute.

.....

Fuck

"Some of those government fucks showed up in front of my people, wanted me to just leave and go back to all of....that." The whiskey is drained, and Ratchet leans over to grab the bottle. "It's one thing to harass me over the phone, but the street? In front of my kids? They can fuck right off with that." The glass is filled again, and the two sit in silence as he slowly drinks, looking at the floor with his brows furrowed. "I can't go back to that, no matter how much that would help out my....project."

"Aw, I'm a project now?" Deadlock cooed, a clawed digit gently caressing the side of Ratchet's face with as much care as he could muster. "I got an upgrade~"

"You're a disaster." Ratchet rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn't move as he listened to the (begrudgingly) familiar cadence of Deadlock's systems. While he could be as silent as the grave, Ratchet was pretty sure he was some sort of spy or assassin of some kind despite any questions getting the brush off, the alien mech had adopted the practice of allowing his natural ambient noise to become noticeable.

Just for his human, one of many things he'd adopted for his savior-turned-object of affection.

"Would you like for me to kill them?" Deadlock purrs when Ratchet raises an eyebrow, taking in the warmth against his digit. "I could make it look like an accident~"

"Like hell you will, that'll just get more eyes on me."

"Are you sure? Didn't sound like you were all that upset by the idea Ratty."

"Yes I am...though if they approach me in public again, maybe you could cause an accident or something, as a treat."

"Oh you do spoil me~!"

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Voicemail

A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.

Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.

As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.

Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.

After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it. 

It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.

It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.

And he keeps it all these years.

He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack. 

If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.

And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s. 

With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.

Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.

The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun. 

Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.

Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.

Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.

Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’

‘Just a second!’ you call back.

Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best. 

It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening. 

Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.

‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’

You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’

‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’

‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’

‘Try me.’

Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.

When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’

He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’

You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’

You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him. 

Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’

He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’

Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’

Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.

‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.

Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’

‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.

The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.

Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.

Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either. 

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.

It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.

One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.

Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.

Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.

The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.

There’s no putting it off forever.

In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.

He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.

In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.

Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.

He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins. 

Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.

The battery sign appears on the screen.

Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.

1 NEW VOICEMAIL.

He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.

It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -

He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.

He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -

Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -

And everything goes white.

When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.

He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.

You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.

It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no. 

Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.

But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.

‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’

As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.

More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤️

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

REPEATING OVER AND OVER, AND OVER, UNTIL YOU MAKE IT TILL THE END!

YOU'LL NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN!

synopsis// both of you stuck in a time loop until you can accept each other. you can not make it out alone no matter how hard you try.

pairing// katsuki bakugo x gn!reader

word count// 9.6k

contents// no quirks, angst, fluff ?, they r idiots, slow burn-ish? at least at first, profanity. like a lot. i stg they cuss every other sentence, it’s like i was a middle school boy who just discovered cuss words writing this, ooc bakugo probably, ages aren’t specified but they r adults, pure cringe but its mha and coming from me so did u expect anything different..?

notes// my last mha draft... im finally free.... anyway i wrote this ages ago but i rlly love this and it may or may not have been inspired by a fnaf song..... (it totally was)

You wake up with a gasp, sitting up quickly to find everything in the room in the same place it was the last hundred times you woke up.

“A-fucking-gain?!”

You throw your legs over the side of your bed and reach for your phone, hoping for something different but getting nothing. There are no notifications, no services, and no matter how long you stare at the time, it never changes. You would know considering you’ve done this routine a hundred times. You throw your phone back onto the nightstand and slip your shoes on, the repetitiveness of it all making your head spin. You’ve got to be going insane; what other logical explanation could there be for reliving the same day over and over again?

"I don't know what I did to piss the universe off, but now it's pissing me off," you mumble as you walk out of your empty house—you'd know because you've checked every nook and cranny for the past hundred times. The minute you step outside, you shout at the air, the sky, the universe, the gods, whatever put you here, “Is this what you wanted? pay back? You fucking got it!” 

You stand there half hoping that something would happen, whether someone appeared or a voice would say something to you, but nothing; it’s just complete silence apart from the wind whooshing by. though that’s not to say people weren’t here. If you went far enough into the city, there were crowds of people walking around with no destinations; they seemed like NPCs. The only difference is that you can interact with NPCs, whereas the shells of humans you see in town don't talk, at least not to you. They don't even acknowledge you. It’s almost as if you’re a ghost, which is ironic considering how, when you were alive—no, that's not the right word, sentient maybe? Whatever the point is, when you were a productive member of society, you longed for something exactly like this. To slip by people like the wind, like a ghost, yet now that you have it, you wish for anything but this.

"God, if this is what the afterlife is like, I don't plan on dying anytime soon,” you mutter to yourself as you walk deeper into the city. “Maybe this is the afterlife? or maybe this is hell.”

You stare at your feet as you walk until you hit the point where there are empty husks of humans walking past, and at this point you lift your head, starting to wave at them and standing directly in front of them in a futile attempt to get their attention. Of course it serves to be useless when they walk right past you... just like they have the last hundred times you’ve tried. After a few more futile attempts, you begin walking past them toward a forest. This has been your routine for the entire time you've been trapped here, wherever here may be.

You check your home, walk outside, curse a higher being and ask what you've done to deserve this, contemplate life—or lack thereof?, walk into the city, try to catch someone's attention, and when that doesn't work, you walk off into the forest, spending the whole day there— or you would if time worked properly here—and eventually finding yourself at some random, poorly placed door deep into the forest. You stand right in front of the door; it mocks you, and you imagine yourself tearing it to shreds if it weren't for the fact that the minute you touch it, you're back at square one. You opt to sit in front of the door, just merely studying it; it’s not like there's really much else for you to do.

You don’t know how long you just sit there going back and forth between staring at the door and tearing out the grass from under your hands; had time worked properly here, you’re sure that the moon would have been out by now. You finally admit defeat—for the hundredth time. You stand up and wipe your hands clean of the dirt now laid upon them before you look around the door once more, hoping for something new to appear behind it or beside it, but nothing—the only thing behind the door is more empty forest. So with a sigh, you begrudgingly touch the door handle, and you immediately find yourself waking up with a gasp, sitting up quickly, with everything in the room in the same place it was the last hundred times you woke up again.

This time, though, you don't get up immediately; you lay back down in your bed with a sigh, pulling your blanket up to your chin. You’ve always been alone. This wasn't new to you, but at least before it was your choice. It wasn’t like people didn’t want to be your friend; you just didn’t want to be theirs. In some fucked-up way, you saw your hyper-independence as superior to how other people seemed to need and want friends. but now? Now you want nothing more than to be annoyed by your coworker; you want nothing more than to walk outside and run into someone who will acknowledge you; even if it isn't a positive interaction, it's still an interaction. and after being stuck here for ages, you would kill for an interaction. You throw your blanket off of you as you begin your routine, finally having enough of your pity party.

Check phone? Check.

Put your shoes on? Check.

Search every inch of your house? Check. 

Step outside and curse the universe? Check. 

Find yourself surronded by people where you cant tell if you’re the ghost here or if they are? Check! Wait—Is that a new person?

You've been here long enough to have memorized or at least vaguely remembered every single person in the crowd, but this new face in the distance isn't one you've seen before; it's unique, you'd remember it, so who is this? Is this a sign your time here is coming to an end? In a frenzy, you push your way through the crowd, ignoring all your thoughts. You stop a few feet in front of him; he’s still a bit away as you study him. His brow furrowed in a scowl, and he's muttering something under his breath that you can't quite make out, but you can tell he's frustrated by his facial expression and the way his hands are curled into tight fists at his side, knuckles paper white at this point.

He finally reaches you but ignores you as he walks past you, and you sigh, wondering why you thought he'd be the one to acknowledge you.

you frown, mumbling aloud to yourself in disappointment, “Do I really need any more NPCs here?”

suddenly though, he stops dead in his tracks like he heard you and he turns around to face you. Holy shit, he heard you?

“What the fuck did you say to me?”

You stare at him blankly before looking to the sides of you and even behind you. “Uh, are you talking to me?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid as he takes a few steps toward you, and subconsciously, you take a few back. “Of course I'm talking to you; who the fuck else would I be talking to?”

You put your hands out in front of you in a stop motion briefly, your face scrunching up in disdain. "Chill the fuck out, asshole, it was just a question."

“Chill the fuck out?” He repeats in disbelief and takes another step forward, while you stand still, tensing up to appear tougher. “I'm stuck in some weird ass place where, up to this point, no one except for your dumbass has even acknowledged me and you’re telling me to chill the fuck out?”

You roll your eyes at his outburst and ask curiously, “You just got here, didn’t you?”

“What the hell do you think? Where even are we?”

"A time loop of some sort,” you say nonchalantly as you shrug, though everything you’re feeling right now is anything but nonchalance.

He scoffs. “Time loop? You expect me to believe that stupid shit?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Believe what you want, either way, you’re still stuck here, idiot.”

“Oh, Im the idiot for getting stuck here? What about you?”

“Me?” you scoff.

“You seem like you’ve been here longer than I have, and you’re still not out. So who’s the real idiot?”

You cross your arms and look away, grumbling, “Maybe I like it here.”

He looks you up and down before rolling his eyes and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I doubt that.”

Your gaze returns to him with a glare. “Fuck you, I was going to help you.”

“I don't need your fucking help,” he sneers. "You obviously have no idea what the fuck you're doing in the first place."

You walk away, flipping him off, and he does the same, both of you going your separate ways. Though once you hit the edge of the forest, you turn to look back and see if he’s anywhere near, but it’s like he never existed at all. back to the routine.

Enter the forest and walk for an unreasonable amount of time? Check. 

Reach the out of place, uncanny door deep in the forest? Check. 

Stare at it and imagine ripping it to shreds until it's nothing but dust? Check.

Finally sit down and accept your fate for a bit? Check. 

You sigh as you poke at the dirt, the patches of grass you pulled out last time returning to normal as if you had never ripped them out in the first place. Remember what you said earlier about wishing for human interaction? You changed your mind after meeting that random guy, who quickly reminded you why you disliked it in the first place. Although you’ve made up your mind about hating him, you can't help but wonder what he’s doing here in the first place. Obviously, you have no idea why you’re here either, but why did he just pop up after doing this a hundred times or more already? Why is he the only one who can suddenly acknowledge your existence? Maybe there was a glitch in your eternal hell; maybe this was an accident, and he’d be gone by the time you did this all over again. Back to the routine.

Stand up and clean your hands of dirt? Check. 

Touch the door handle and wake back up in your bed with a gasp? Check!

You groan and grip your head slightly; the action of being in one place only to suddenly be in another never fails to give you a slight headache. Today, you go through your routine quickly in order to get into the city faster. You want to know if he's still here so badly that you almost seem desperate. much to your dismay, and his—he’s still here and groans at the sight of you.

"What the fuck did you do?" he demands angrily.

You narrow your eyes at him. You regret coming here. “excuse me?”

“One minute I'm walking, and the next I'm back here."

“It’s called a time loop for a reason, idiot.”

“I don't fucking care what it’s called, just stop doing it," he snaps.

“Oh yeah, like I fucking control that! Let me just stop this whole time loop while we’re at it, huh?”

He says nothing; he merely flips you off and walks away, and you do the same.

Just like every other time you find yourself back at the door in the forest, this time you don’t wait to touch it; you immediately go for the handle and restart the time loop in spite of him snapping at you. He comes into your time loop and has the audacity to complain? No one told him to invade your eternal hell. The first handful of days (if you could even call them that) go the exact same way. Wake up, check phone, slip on shoes, check house, curse the universe some more, go into the crowd, argue with the blond-haired boy who seemed to piss you off beyond words, go your separate ways, go into the forest, find the door, think about tearing down said door, sit on the floor for a bit, and then finally go to touch the door only to do it all over again.

The next handful of days were similar, except you and the invader of your eternal hell eventually stopped arguing; you two still acknowledged each other, but only with a scowl and a flip of your middle fingers, walking straight past each other to do your own thing. You can't say you were upset with the arrangement because at least you didn't have to listen to his whining any longer. You just hated how something was added to the time loop yet it seems like nothing has changed at all. you're still stuck, and the door still won't budge. What exactly are you even supposed to be doing? How do you escape? Can you even escape?

You wake up with a gasp for what now seems like the thousandth time, and you're starting to feel the effects of being here for so damn long. You’re exhausted, your bones ache, and you feel like you could drop dead at any moment. Then again, who’s to say you aren’t already dead? You lazily go through your routine; everything is as it should be until you get into the city. The crowds are still there, but someone is missing. The only person who has acknowledged you is missing. Part of you is happy that he’s gone; it’s not like you two have had a productive conversation in the time he's been there; if anything, he was hindering your escape. but the other part?

The other part is a tad bit disappointed, for two reasons. that one, he managed to get out before you, and two, you’re all alone again. As you begin walking toward the forest, you groan. Who cares? It’s not like you needed him or wanted him here anyway; you could get out on your own. Sometime lost in thought, you finally made it to the entrance of the forest, stopping and resting against a tree. You wonder if the longer you stay, the worse you start to deteriorate, like whatever this place is doesn’t want you here in the first place. You frown, it’s not like you want to be here anymore than this place wants you here; you didn’t ask to get stuck in some stupid ass time loop.

“I’ve had enough of your games! let me out!” You scream into the woods, half expecting someone to respond, and someone does.

“Do you have to be so loud?” A deep voice comes from beside you, tone full of annoyance.

You jump slightly as you turn your head to the side to see the owner of the voice, and you’re almost disappointed to see it’s the blond boy with a permanent scowl and jaw clenched tight.

“What the fuck, you’re still here?” You ask breathlessly, still trying to calm your racing heart from his slight jumpscare.

He rolls his eyes and leans against a nearby tree to mimic you. “Where the fuck else would I have gone?”

"I thought you got out or something..."

"Clearly not," he says, tsking. “What is this?”

“A forest. What does it look like, idiot?”

“No shit, I mean, why are we here?”

You stare at him as blankly as your voice comes out, "We? How the hell did you even get here?”

“Followed you,” he says as he crosses his arms. 

“You... followed me?” you repeat curiously.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

"Why?" you ask softly, catching him off guard. You almost miss how his eyes widen at the sudden shift toward him.

He sighs and looks away, preferring to take in his surroundings, which mainly consist of the seemingly endless forest. "I've looked everywhere else and there's nothing, so I'm assuming you've found something if you keep coming here."

You hum, so he’s not just an angry idiot after all; he’s an observant idiot too.

“So?” he asks with a small bob of his head. 

"So what?"

He scowls, which takes you by surprise because you thought he was already scowling... must just be his face then. “So, did you find something?”

“Oh,” you say. "Yeah, I did, kinda.”

He seems to perk up, impatiently asking, “What is it?”

You go silent briefly, unsure of how to explain a random, uncanny door deep into the forest. "uh- it's difficult to explain," you admit sheepishly.

“Just spit it out already, idiot.”

“No, because you probably won’t even believe me!” you snap in frustration.

He rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the tree. “Then show me.”

You stare at him with wide eyes as he walks into the forest. “What?” 

“Show me dumbass!” He barks back at you, not pausing to slow down.

You push yourself off the tree in a hurry, yelling as you run after him, “Can you fucking wait! You don’t even know where you’re going!”

He stops, but not without groaning dramatically, which makes you roll your eyes. You caught up to him quickly because he wasn't far away, but that didn't stop you from bending over and placing your hands on your knees as you breathed heavily in and out.

He looks down at you in slight disgust. “You didn’t even run that far, why are you acting like you're dying?”

“Because,” you breathe out heavily. "It takes a toll on you when you've been stuck here as long as I have!"

“Whatever, just hurry up.”

After a moment, you stand back up fully and jerk your head toward the forest, silently telling the boy, “Let's go.”

The walk is quiet; awkwardness hangs heavy in the air as you sluggishly lead the way. It makes you wish he had escaped, because then you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this.

“How long have you been here?” He asks, breaking the silence, which takes you by surprise, but you’re sure anything he does that isn’t just him scowling or yelling could take you by surprise at this point.

You clear your throat. “I dunno…. long.” 

“You don’t know?”

"I stopped counting after the hundredth time the loop reset," you shrug.

“Jesus christ, you’ve been here that long?”

“Unfortunately,” you sigh. 

Another moment of silence lingers between the two of you as you walk through the forest, but at least the awkwardness has subsided. Though how slowly you're walking is starting to irritate him. 

“Can you walk any faster?” he asks harshly. 

“I’m tired.” 

“Not my problem.”

“You know what?” you say, stopping dead in your tracks. “I think I’m actually gonna take a break.”

“What?” he asks as he watches you sit down on the floor, leaning back against a tree.

you smile up at him mockingly. “Yep! I’m super tired; I need a break.”

He scoffs. “Fuck you, get up.”

You shake your head. “Nah, I don’t think I will. If you wanna get there so bad, find it yourself.”

He glares at you, his lip twitching with the threat of turning into a sneer. “Fine, I will,” he says through clenched teeth.

You’re still smiling at him as you wave goodbye and watch him walk deeper into the forest. He won’t find it. You know that because the door is still a ways away—you've done this walk over a hundred times—he has no chance of finding it without you, so you'll just sit here and relax until he comes running back to you. Lord knows you need it.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Sometime during your relaxing, you ended up falling asleep. Which you didn’t even know was possible here, but nonetheless, it was well appreciated. You would have continued sleeping if it hadn't been for something softly kicking your legs. You frown and try to swat whatever is kicking you away without opening your eyes, wanting to sleep more, but the kicking doesn't stop. You finally, and begrudgingly, open your eyes to find the boy (who you knew would come back) is the one kicking you.

"Oh, you're back already," you yawn, rubbing your eyes.

He stared at you curiously. “Already?” 

You nod as you stand up. “I knew you’d come back.”

“Fuck you, you don’t know shit.” 

"Then why are you back?"

He tsks and looks away. “Whatever.” 

“That’s what I thought,” you say triumphantly. 

He says nothing; instead, he waits for you to start walking ahead so he can follow you. Your walking is much faster now, and although you're still exhausted, it’s much more tolerable now. It's as if the fog around your head has lifted, and you can function normally now. If time worked properly here, it would have been about an hour or two after you guys resumed walking when he finally decided to break the long silence.

“Jesus christ, do you even know where you’re going?” he asks in frustration.

You roll your eyes. “Of course I do. I'm not an idiot.”

“Debatable,” he mumbles under his breath.

You decide to ignore that and sigh. “We’re almost there chill out.” There's another lull of silence before you ask, "What's your name?"

He turns to look at you briefly with narrowed eyes before settling his gaze back in front of him. “What? Why the fuck would I tell you that?"

"We're stuck in a time loop together, so I thought it would be nice to know your name, but if you just want me to keep referring to you as an idiot, I'd be more than happy-"

"It's Bakugo," he cuts you off, clearly annoyed.

“I'm y/n,” you say with a grin—wait, you’re actually smiling at getting to know someone? That's odd; you would never... But you guess you could allow it just this once, considering the circumstances.

“Didn’t ask.”

You ignore him. “We’re almost there, by the way.”

“Fucking finally, what even is it?”

You’re close enough that you can see it in the distance. you point at it as you speak, “a-“

“A door?” he erupts, cutting you off and beginning to run off toward it.

You quickly run after him. “Bakugo wait, don't t-“

You suddenly awake with a gasp.

“Don't touch it,” you say to yourself with a groan. "Fucking idiot," you mutter as you roll out of bed, ignoring your routine and simply slipping on your shoes and running off into the city to find him again.

Once you arrive, like yesterday, you can’t find him, and you frown as you start walking toward the forest, because if it’s anything like yesterday, he’d end up there. At least you're hoping he’s there, because if he actually managed to get out before you by doing the same thing you’ve done for a hundred plus times, you would be furious. You arrive at the forest to find him already there, leaning against a tree, and you sigh out in relief as he stands up straight once he sees you.

"What the fuck happened?" he asks when you reach him.

You exhale heavily, slightly frustrated, a dull pain in your head adding to your frustration. "Well, if you had let me explain, I would have told you that touching the door resets the time loop."

"Oh,” he says blankly. “Sorry.” 

“You’re apologizing?..” You ask in slight disbelief, he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would, but then again, you don’t even know him. Who are you to judge him? Wow, you’ve been here so long that you’ve actually gotten to the point of not judging people; maybe you are going insane.

“Yeah.” 

“You don’t seem like someone who would.” 

He shrugs. “I wasn't, but, uh, I’ve been trying to work on it or something.”

“I’m not either,” you confess. “But, uh, for the record, I guess i’m sorry too… for you know, yelling at you?” 

A range of emotions seem to slather themselves onto Bakugo’s face. first anger, then confusion, and then disgust before his usual scowl returns. “Whatever. What now?” 

“Now we go back to the door.”

“And do what?”

“Stare at it? I don't know,” you sigh. 

“I’m sorry?” he says in confusion as his eyes immediately narrow in on you. “Is that all you’ve been doing? Staring at the fucking door?”

You throw your arms up in the air dramatically as you defend yourself, asking, “What the fuck else am I supposed to do? If I touch it, the time loop restarts!”

His eye twitches. “So we’re just gonna stare at it. Until what? We fucking die here?”

“Who’s to say we aren’t even already dead?” you mumble under your breath in annoyance. “Besides, do you have any better ideas?”

Bakugo stays silent. 

“Right, that’s what I thought.”

He tsks and starts walking into the forest. “Whatever, let's just go.”

You find yourself biting back a smile at what you consider a win, even if this wasn’t a challenge; you just have a terrible habit of seeing everything as a challenge... but nonetheless you find yourself walking with him side by side quietly. The walk was, of course, long, but not as long as last time considering you didn’t stop to sleep this time, so the two of you quickly found yourselves at the door. Both of you just stand there staring at it.

“Maybe it’ll actually do something this time,” Bakugo says, tilting his head at the door as if trying to look at it from a different angle.

You drop yourself to the ground, sitting down with a soft groan. “Try whatever you want in a little bit; doesn’t the time loop being reset hurt your head?”

Bakugo looks down at you and shrugs. “Haven’t noticed.” 

You laugh, though it comes out more like a huff of air. “You will eventually.”

Bakugo stares at you curiously, what you said having piqued his interest, as he plops himself down on the ground next to you. “How long have you been here?” 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve already asked me that.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m asking again.” 

“I don’t know. My answer's still the same.” 

He nods slowly. “What was it like?” he asks. "You know, in the beginning, all alone?"

“You actually care?” you ask, wide-eyed and in slight disbelief.

He tsks and returns his attention to the door in front of him. “I don't,” he says harshly. “I’m just trying to make conversation; what the fuck else are we supposed to do?”

"Fair enough," you say, nodding slightly. "At first, I kinda liked it here."

“How?” 

“I liked being alone.”

“That’s fucking stupid,” he spits out. 

You frown. “You don’t look like the type to enjoy other people’s company either.”

“I don’t.” 

“Then what the fuck?”

"I don't like people, but I also don't like being alone," he says softly.

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Whatever,” he says. “So what? Do you not like being alone anymore?”

you shrug. “If being alone meant I didn’t have to deal with your dumbass anymore, then yes, I still like being alone.”

“Fuck you; you just complained about being alone,” he grumbled.

“I did not complain,” you explain. “I’m just saying I like being alone when it’s on my own terms.”

He hums. 

“And you?” you ask. 

"And me what?" he asks, his eyes narrowing at the door.

"What was it like when you first got here?"

“Oh,” he says before he thinks for a moment. “I don’t know; annoying more than anything. I have shit to do in the real world; this doesn’t help.”

You pull your knees in toward your chest. “Where do you even think we are?”

"Fuck if I know," he says, shrugging. "I just want to get the fuck out; if I was stuck here as long as you, I'd probably go insane."

You stare at him blankly. “You’re already insane, and I'm already insane.”

Bakugo side eyes you. 

“What other logical explanation is there for us being here? We’re obviously crazy.”

He huffs and you almost find yourself mistaking it for a laugh. "Yeah, I guess so.”

You feel your heart race a little, and although you two still bicker a bit, you can’t deny how much you're starting to appreciate his company. It's an odd feeling, really, appreciating company for a change instead of immediately trying to get rid of it. As you push yourself up onto your feet, you sigh. “Round two?” 

He nods as he copies your actions by standing up. “Guess so.” 

You take a deep breath before touching the door, only to gasp as you awaken, but this time there's another gasp. You look beside you and discover Bakugo in your bed, which causes you to fall out of it from shock.

"Jesus, why are you in my bed?!"

“Why are you asking like I fucking know?!”

You immediately rose to your feet, rubbing your head because, if the headache from the reset wasn’t enough, you also hit it when you fell out of bed. “What the fuck is going on…”

Bakugo quickly gets out of your bed and tsks. “Why’d it change?”

“Maybe the time loop likes us working together?” You ask rhetorically because it's not like Bakugo has an answer either.

“Yeah, or it hates us working together.”

“Whatever it is, at least something changed finally. Maybe other things changed too?” you wonder as you go to slip on your shoes.

“Do we plan on just going back to the stupid ass door every time?”

"It's not like we have any other options, Bakugo. Are you ready?”

“I fucking guess.”

The two of you venture off into the city, with nothing seeming out of place or changed, and it becomes obvious that the only thing that changed was Bakugo being in your bed when you end up reaching the door.

"So much for something changing," mutters Bakugo, frustrated.

You drop yourself to the ground again. “This is annoying.”

He mimics your actions. “No shit.”

A moment of silence falls between you two before you speak up. “Are you even real?”

Bakugo’s face scrunches up in annoyance and confusion. “What the fuck do you mean am i real?”

“I don't know! Maybe I have gone insane and just made you up!”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I'm real. I have a whole fucking life outside of this place,” he turns his attention to you, “Are you real?”

“Yes, I also have a whole fucking life outside of this place,” you snap back.

He hums, almost like he doesn't believe you, but he doesn't outright say it, and you quickly respond with a hum of your own before laying yourself down on the grass, looking up toward the never-changing sky. It's so blue and there are so many clouds that it almost looks fake, which makes sense given that this entire place appears to be fake, an empty husk of the real place that exists somewhere else outside of here.

"How was your life?" you inquire, seemingly out of nowhere.

Bakugo looks down at you. “Boring,” he says with a sigh. "It wasn't as boring as this place, but it was still fucking boring; at least I had friends and could do shit there."

You can't help but giggle. “You had friends?”

He scowls at you and flips you off before turning away and nodding. “Unlike you, I'm sure.”

You shrug, though it looks more like a jolt. “I prefer being alone.”

“You say that, but you’re not all that convincing.”

“Oh, fuck off and tell me about your imaginary friends,” you snicker and ignore his very wrong—very right— comment.

He bit back a smirk in response to your jab at him. Normally, Bakugo would despise anyone who dared to fight back, but right now? It was actually nice? which, the feeling within itself, made Bakugo want to hate you even more.

“Bakugo?” you ask after a few moments of silence. 

“Shut up, I'm thinking,” he snaps. "There are only three people I consider to be my friends."

You laugh. “What?”

“The rest are just.. acquaintances.”

You hum in content, your hands behind your head. “Tell me bout em.”

“There's this nerd; I've known him since we were kids,” he begins to explain. “I was a douche to him.”

"I can believe that."

Bakugo gives you a look that either says he wants to murder you or for you to shut up, and you merely grin up at him.

"He somehow forgave me, and yeah, we've been friends since."

“And the other two?”

“Some dumbass with shitty hair and another dumbass with pink cheeks,” he explains vaguely.

"Wow, I'm sure they really enjoy being called a dumbass," you state flatly.

He shrugs. "They should if they want to be my friend."

“Those are your only requirements? Tolerate being called a dumbass and anyone can be your friend?” you tease. 

“Shut up, at least I have friends.”

“I already told you, I like being alone!” you defend with a pout.

He hums as he lays himself down. “And I already told you I don't believe you.”

"Believe what you want," you say as you turn to face him, only to find him already looking at you. “Besides, what do you care?”

He shifts his gaze to the sky. “I don’t.”

You follow along with him, looking back up at the sky, mumbling, "Sure you don't."

Bakugo doesn't bother replying, and you don't bother trying to keep the conversation going. The two of you just lay there, staring up at the sky and listening to the trees sway in the wind.

You suddenly find yourself being woken up with small kicks to your legs, and you groan. You try to open your eyes only to be blinded by the sun.

“Jesus Christ!” you wince.

Bakugo groans as he places his hand over your face to shield your eyes from the sun. You finally get them to open, and you mutter a small thanks to him.

“Did I fall asleep?” you ask as you stand up. 

Bakugo shoves his hands into his pockets with a nod. “Yeah.”

“Sorry...”

"It's fine," he says, shrugging. “Round three?”

You nod as you stretch, which is a pointless action when you're about to be thrown into your bed, but you do it anyway. Bakugo touches the door, and you find yourselves immediately waking up with a gasp in your bed.

You jump straight up and rub your temples. “God, I will never get used to that.”

"Yeah, because the day you get used to that is the day you lose your mind."

You slip your shoes on and roll your eyes. “Ready?”

He stares at you blankly.

"Stupid question, my bad, damn," you quickly add, realizing he's not going to say anything.

When the two of you walk out of your house, Bakugo's steps are loud, and you can tell he's annoyed just by them. Bakugo tries to walk into the city only to be stopped by something.

"What are you doing?" you ask, watching him stagger backwards.

"It's not me," he snaps as he extends his hand in front of him, only to be stopped by something that isn't there, he kind of looks like a mime.

You hold back a laugh as you join him by his side, reaching out only to be stopped by an invisible wall of some sort; this makes your face drop. “What the fuck?”

“Exactly.”

“So what? We aren't allowed in the city anymore?”

"I guess not." Bakugo groans, annoyed. “Is there another way to the forest?”

You don't even get the chance to reply when the two of you hear rumbling. Both your heads snapping toward the noise only to see a newly carved out path to the forest in the distance.

You swallow hard, blinking at the scene in front of you. “You, uh, you saw that right?”

Bakugo nods slowly. “I did.”

You laugh nervously and extend your hands as if to show off the new path. “After you.”

“Fuck no, after you.”

“What are you scared? Coward.”

Bakugo glares at you. “Fuck you,” he says before starting to walk toward the path, and you smile in triumph.

The two of you are silent the whole walk, taking in your new surroundings for anything suspicious. This walk seems longer than the one from the city, but it's not like you expected anything different, and it doesn't matter when you finally get to the door.

"Why are things changing so suddenly?" you wonder as you stare at the door.

"Hell if I know," mumbles Bakugo, joining you in staring at the door.

“Do you think we’re doing something right?” you ask as you turn your head to look at him.

“Or something wrong.”

“God, this is so weird,” you sigh in frustration as you take a few steps back and sit down. 

He turns to look down at you, perplexed. “Oh, now it's weird? It wasn't weird the first hundred fucking times we stared at this door?”

"You know what I mean."

He rolls his eyes as he sits down a few feet in front of you. “Whatever.”

You both sit there in silence, your minds racing with confusion. Why are things changing now, and are they changing for the better or for the worse? You sit there picking at your nails while he sits there staring at the door like he’s trying to make it explode with his mind. After a while, Bakugo sighs, and this catching of your attention makes you look up at him. When he speaks up, you're about to ask if he's okay.

“What was your life like?” He asks out of nowhere, and you certainly were not expecting that to come out of his mouth.

“Oh,” you say in slight confusion. “Um, fine? I don't know; I mean, I didn't have friends-“

“Knew it,” he chimes in with a smirk. 

“Fuck off.”

"So, what did you have if you didn't have friends?" He asks flatly, not as if he really cares but as if he's just trying to avoid silence, which could be him caring in some ways.

“I had a job at a little coffee shop,” you recall with a small smile.

“I thought you would've worked from home or something.”

“Why?”

“Because you hate people and like being alone?” He says it almost condescendingly, like you should have already known the reason why.

“Huh,” you say flatly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Maybe you were subconsciously yearning for social interaction?

“I'm always right.”

You hum and lay yourself down. “What’s your full name?”

He lays down with you. “Why the fuck do you wanna know? You gonna stalk me?”

“You wish.”

“Katsuki Bakugo.”

“That’s a nice name.”

He closes his eyes. “I know dumbass.”

“You could’ve just said thank you.”

“Thank you,” he says harshly, like he's mocking you, but you ignore it and smile. “What’s yours?” he asks quietly.

“Y/n L/n.”

“My name is better, but yours is alright, I guess,” he says under his breath, like this is his best attempt at a compliment.

You laugh softly, and the noise causes Bakugo's cheeks to warm, which he tries to ignore and blames on the sun. You don't bother responding and close your eyes. Both of you are just laying there with your eyes closed, enjoying each other's company, or at least you're enjoying his. Which is odd; it makes you slightly nauseous to think that for once, you’re actually enjoying someone's company.

Had someone told real life you that you'd be enjoying someone's company, you would have laughed in their face and probably insulted them for not being as “independent” as you are. But despite all of that, you can't actually say you hate it—not at all, actually. but for the time being, you're blaming that on the circumstances. After a while, you find yourself opening your eyes, slightly wincing at the bright sun, but turning your head to look at Bakugo, who is staring up at the sky without a scowl on his face. Huh. You thought that scowl was permanent, though he actually looks surprisingly nice without one?

“Are you dead?” you ask out of nowhere.

Bakugo flinches slightly, taken aback by your voice. “Being dead would probably be better than this.”

“Rude,” you huff.

“I mean the situation, not you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you tease. “Round four?”

He sighs defeatedly. “Yeah, I guess.”

You nod as the two of you stand up and quickly dust yourselves off. You step toward the door and find yourself hesitating.

“What are you waiting for?” Bakugo asks impatiently.

You shake your head and touch the door. You both wake up with a gasp, but you're not in your room; instead, you're back on the forest floor where you were just moments ago.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim aloud.

"Did you touch it?" asks Bakugo, looking down at the ground beneath him.

“Of course I did!” you explain. “I don't understand?”

Bakugo quickly stands up and offers a hand out to help you out. You hesitate to take his hand, making him shake his head as if to silently ask, “What's the problem?” You sigh as you accept his help.

Once your up, Bakugo pulls his hand away and asks, “Should we try to go back to your house?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, that's a good idea.”

Bakugo nods back, and you find yourself walking out of the forest, a strange feeling given that you're always walking in, never out; it's eerie in a way. You’ve only been walking for, what you assume, a few minutes when he speaks up.

"Is that actually your house?" he wonders. "Like in the real world, I guess."

You shake your head. “Nah, I just call it that considering how long I've been here, you know? I actually live in an apartment.”

He hums. “Me too.”

"You too?"

“Yes? Why the fuck do you sound so shocked?” he asks with a confused shake of his head.

"I don't know... I guess you seem like the type of person who would say they're too good for an apartment," you explain with a shrug.

“It’s cheaper, and because I have a roommate that makes it even more cheap.”

“Oh!! Let me guess!” you speak up excitedly. “Is it the nerd? Or the shitty hair? Oh or the pink cheeks?”

He finds himself chuckling at your use of his nicknames for them, and the sound goes straight to your stomach. Butterflies immediately begin to grow there. “It's the nerd,” he says once he’s finally composed himself.

You nod with a smile. “My roommate is a cat.”

He hums, and before he can respond, he walks straight into something, just like the last time, except this time it's not the invisible city wall he walked into but the middle of the forest. You immediately find yourself frantically grabbing at the invisible force.

“Are you serious?” you fume. “Now we’re trapped in the fucking forest?”

Bakugo finds himself walking toward the sides, only to find that those are blocked off by nothing as well. “So what? we can’t leave?”

“It doesn’t want us to leave,” you correct him. 

“Who the fuck is it?” Bakugo asked with a confused glare.

“Whatever the fuck is doing this.”

Bakugo sighs out in defeat as he places his hands on his hips, letting his head drop as he just stares at the floor. “Now what?” he mumbles.

You rub your face in frustration. “We go back to the door, I guess.”

He lifts his head and tsks. “Great.”

The walk back into the forest is tense, but since you two had only made it halfway before being stopped, it wasn't that long. Still, the air between you two had become suffocating from your respective frustrations with being trapped here, his more so than yours. Finally, you two arrive at the door, and Bakugo collapses to the ground with a loud groan.

“This sucks,” he seethes.

You shrug as you take a seat in front of him. “It could be worse.”

“What?” he asks harshly. “Please, please, please enlighten me on how this could be any worse.”

You keep your gaze on the ground, nervously pulling out the grass as you speak. “Well, I mean, yeah, of course it sucks! like, really bad! and like, yeah, sure, the universe seems very against me right now, but at least I have you?”

"Huh," he says blankly before remaining silent for a moment, and you grimace; you should not have said that. Why the fuck would you say that? “Yeah.”

Your head shoots up to see him already staring at you softly. “Yeah?” you repeat. 

"Yeah, you're right," he says slowly, almost painfully so.

You can't help but break out into a wide grin. “Bakugo? Are you actually starting to care about me?”

He bites back a smile as he rolls his eyes. “Oh fuck off.”

You laugh and lay yourself on the grass. “Lay with me.”

He hums curiously at you yet listens, laying himself right next to you, leaving only a small space between you two. You ignore the strange urge to take his hand in yours.

“Do you think we would’ve been friends in, like, real life, I guess?”

“I never agreed to being your friend,” he points out flatly, ignoring your question. 

“Shut up, Bakugo.”

He snickers. “Probably not though.”

You feign offense, or you feign feigning offense, because that does actually hurt your feelings slightly. “Rude…”

“Shut up. I don't mean it like that,” he reassures. “I mean, you even said it yourself—you don't like people, and I only consider like three people my friends.”

You frown. “I guess you’re right.”

"It's futile to think about that shit now; I doubt we'll ever go back," he mumbles, disappointed.

You ignore how much you’re not disappointed that you might not ever go back anytime soon. “Round five?”

Bakugo nods as he stands up. “Yeah.”

You try to get up, but he stops you. You stare at him curiously.

“If we’re just going to end up lying back down when it restarts, maybe if you’re already lying down, your head won't hurt as much?” he questions thoughtfully. 

You ignore how warm your cheeks feel at his concern and lay back down. “Yeah, maybe.”

Bakugo nods at you before touching the door, and still, both of you end up waking up with a gasp in your positions from a moment ago, but your head doesn't hurt this time.

Bakugo ignores the disappointment swimming in his stomach and turns his gaze to you, who appears shocked. “Did it work?”

You nod slowly before looking at him with a smile. “Yeah, it did! Thanks Bakugo..”

He presses his lips into a tight line as if to stop a smile or ignore how hot his face feels. “Yeah, whatever. Uh, should we go see how far we can make it out?”

You stand up and extend your hand to him, and he quickly accepts it. “Yep!”

The two of you don't even make it ten feet away before being blocked by an invisible wall. The two of you stumble back and stare at each other wide-eyed before both of you immediately start walking out toward the sides, only to be stopped again.

"Oh my fucking god, it boxed us in," Bakugo barks. 

You laugh out nervously. “Um, so, like, is it just gonna keep getting smaller?”

Bakugo's head snaps toward you in concern as your voice shakes, and he notices you beginning to tremble.

"N-not that it's a big deal; I'm not claustrophobic or anything, I'm just curious." You panic, your chest heaving up and down.

Bakugo immediately runs up to you (not that he has to run far) and places his hands on your shoulders, roughly gripping them in some poor attempt to ground you, which works slightly because now you're staring at just him, getting lost in his eyes.

“It’s fine, It's gonna be fucking fine,” he says harshly. “I’ll get us out of here, okay?”

You just stare at him, blinking at him blankly.

He shakes you gently. “Y/n?”

you swallow harshly. 

“Y/n!”

You flinch. “Y-yes?”

"You're going to be fine," he assures, softly smiling at you.

And although you know he can't guarantee that, he can't guarantee that you'll be okay or that he’ll get you guys out of here, you still believe him.

you nod. “Okay. I trust you.”

He nods and returns his hands to his sides before walking back to the door (not that he has to walk far) and sitting down, patting the ground in front of him to invite you to join him. You two sit in comfortable silence, but you can't stand it; you need to talk about something or you'll start spiraling at the thought of the invisible walls closing in on you.

“Do you think we’re supposed to be learning something?” you inquire, pulling your knees into your chest.

He leans back on his palms as he stares at you through furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

“Like a lesson?” you elaborate. "Isn't that why most people get trapped in time loops?"

He gives a half-shrug and thinks for a moment. “I guess? Do you think you’re learning a ‘lesson’?” 

“Maybe?” you say as you place your head on your knees.

Bakugo stares at you, and when you don't say anything, he bobs his head as if to tell you to go on.

“I don't think I like being alone as much as I say I do.”

"Oh?" he says, tilting his head at you with a cocky grin.

You roll your eyes at him through a smile. “Shut up… I'm just saying you’re not so bad; your company is actually enjoyable?”

“Of course it is; It’s me,” he boasts. 

“I regret saying anything.”

“I get it, though.”

“You do?”

He nods. “I mean, I get it through my lesson?”

You bobbed your head at him in the same way he did at you.

"Maybe I don't hate having or making new friends as much as I say I do," he admits quietly.

“Of course you don't; it’s me,” you mock with a shit-eating grin.

He stares at you just smiling fondly, not even a laugh, or a fuck off. No, he's just staring at you as if you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, as if you created the universe—no, scratch that, as if you are the universe. But before you or he can say anything, you hear something rattling, specifically the door handle rattling.

Both of your heads turn toward the door, watching it rattle before looking back at each other and slowly rising in unison.

“Get behind me,” he whispers harshly. 

“I can take care of—“

“Y/n,” he snaps through clenched teeth in an attempt to hush his voice.

You sigh and begrudgingly agree, placing yourself behind him as you two walk toward the door.

He takes a deep breath before whispering, "Round six?"

You nod slowly. “Round six.”

You gasp and sit up quickly, instinctively looking to your side for Bakugo, but you're met by your cat.

He paws at you, and you just stare blankly at him, your chest heaving up and down rapidly. Your cat climbs onto your lap, and you begin to pet him as tears sting your eyes and you take in your surroundings. Though your moment of realizing you're back home is ruined by a phone call. You immediately pick up.

“Bakugo?” you say breathlessly. 

Your coworker clears her throat awkwardly. “uh what? It’s mina, y/n. Where are you? I mean, I know you don't like me, but at least come to work!"

You exhale heavily and rub the tears from your eyes harshly. "I'm so sorry, Mina- I'll be there as soon as I can."

“Oh, uh, it’s fine. Take your time. See you soon!” She says it softly, obviously taken off guard by your apology and lack of hostility.

You hang up quickly and sniffle. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. How long has it even been? Has any time even passed here? When you look at the date, it is the same as it was before you were thrown into the time loop. It could have been months there, but here? It had been merely seconds, if that. You feel your heart break at the lack of Bakugo here; you had been stuck with him for probably weeks, and now you’re... not. And you’re supposed to just go back to being a productive member of society like nothing happened? Like he didn't just single-handedly change your view on being alone? You sigh and shake your head as you pick your cat off of you, now is not the time to have an existential crisis, you have a job to get to. You set your cat down and practically dash to get dressed, not caring enough about even looking presentable as you grab your things and run out the door, getting to your job in record time.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Mina is surprised to see you almost break through the door. “I told you to take your time,” she says with a frown.

You shake your head and bend over as you catch your breath. “No, it's okay,” you say through ragged breaths.

She just stares at you silently until you calm down and approach her behind the counter. “I'm sorry,” you say once you've reached her.

She laughs. "It's fine; being late isn't such a big deal."

You frown; god, she's really gonna make you say it, isn’t she? “No, I mean, I'm sorry about, uh, always being an asshole towards you and stuff,” you start mumbling toward the end, of course you mean it but you still find it quite embarrasing. 

“Oh! Thank you? Um… Did something happen?”

You let out a breathy laugh that almost sounds sad, if that's even possible, and if it isn't, you're making it so. “Uh, yeah, you could say that.”

Mina notices how your demeanor has wilted and places a comforting hand on your shoulder while giving you a small smile.

You return her smile before sighing. "I'm gonna go put my things in the back."

While in the back, you hear the shop bell ring, indicating that a customer is approaching, so you hurry and put your belongings away to assist Mina. Once you're back out there, you don't notice how the customer is waiting by the counter, where you would hand them their coffee. Your main focus is just on making the drink as Mina hands you the cup with what they want written on it. You make quick work of it as Mina starts taking other orders from people beginning to walk in, and in record time you finish the drink, walking to the side of the counter where people pick up coffees. You turn the cup around to look for a name and feel your heart drop when you see it.

Your brow furrows as you mumble, "Bakugo?"

When he hears your voice, Bakugo's head snaps up from his phone, and he doesn't even try to hide the smile that has now appeared on his face. “Y/n?”

"Holy shit!" you exclaim excitedly as you lose your grip on his drink and it splatters everywhere, Bakugo laughing at how half of it is now on your clothes and you can't help but laugh along with him.

“You plan on remaking my drink?”

You nod quickly and hurriedly speak, “Yes! but, um, can you stay after?”

He smirks. “What, was our time together not enough for you?”

You roll your eyes playfully at him. “If I agree, will you stay?”

"Maybe."

You sigh. "Yes Bakugo, our time together wasn't enough for me."

Bakugo chuckles softly. 

“Yeah Y/n, I’ll stay.”

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[takamimami]

(Angst for the 100 follower event)

Eustass Kidd having a massive argument with us over his temper and how he's too loud and then when we try and get some fresh air we accidentally fall off the ship 🙏 (The last part is a joke-- I was thinking actually like him being in denial about him being too much sometimes which causes him to say shit he did not mean to say!! And then Quincy advises us to dump his ass which we do and then we're both just sad and lonely, then the entire crew goes out drinking completely unaware of what has happened and we get drunk and end up kissing some random guy in front of Kidd and he gets angry then hate sex then apologies then reconciliation!!!)

Yes I am rather drunk whilst I am writing this.

Hello, hello, I have finally shut off my video games long enough to finish this prompt, lol! I giggled out loud when your request came in, just so you know. Additionally, I struggled to combine all three of the prompts you suggested - so I took some creative liberties and split the last two prompts between Kidd and Law. I hope that is alright :3 As promised, this is the smutty pt. 2 to THIS request - still a bit angsty but mostly hurt/comfort with some makeup sex :3 I hope I did your idea justice!!

Kidd/Law x F!Reader - NSFW - "Don't touch me!" (Kidd) and "Please, tell me you're okay." (Law)

STORY UNDER THE CUT - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🔞

CW: SMUT; dub-con (kidd), possessive and dom kidd vibes, hand necklace (kidd) both of them are meanies :3, spanking (law), law fucks you on his desk, kidd calls you 'princess', crew mate!reader ---word count ~1.8k each

You had managed to avoid your captain for three days, and the crew finally had enough of your moping around the ship on the fourth day when you finally docked at your new destination. They forced convinced to you to get dressed up and come into town with all of them, shoving drink after drink in your face as everyone tries to get you to let loose and enjoy your night. It works for most of the night until you get a little too drunk and end up kissing a random stranger in the middle of the bar, your captain’s eyes angrily watching the entire occurrence and storming off immediately after.

You regret the entire situation the moment you see the hurt in your captain’s eyes, and the alcohol in your veins clouds your better judgment as you take off after him, following after him and his vice-captain as they make their way back to the ship. You sober up slightly on the walk back, and as you approach the gangway you can hear your captain’s angry voice echoing into the night.

🌷

His voice was angrier than you’d ever heard it, enough to make you falter a step as you heard him arguing back and forth with Killer as you walked up onto the deck.

“I don’t give a damn how drunk she was,” he seethes, his back facing you as he continues yelling. “She’s fucking delusional if she thinks I want anything to do with a skank like her! She can go whore herself to the whole fucking island, for all I care!”

Your stomach turned at the malice in his tone, and Killer puts his arms up over his head as he sees you watching and listening from the edge of the deck. 

“Kidd,” he says soothingly, trying to calm him down, “You’re just upset. Don’t say things you’ll regret later.”

Kidd notices Killer’s gaze looking over his shoulder and he turns around to meet your bleary eyes, his own amber eyes softening as he takes in the expression on your face.

You’d already beat yourself up about the kiss on the walk back to the ship, but hearing those harsh words leave Kidd’s lips felt like a knife to your gut. The tears that burned your eyes caused you to turn your face from him, wiping them away before they could fall as Kidd moved in your direction.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, reaching a hand out to you as he approaches. “I didn’t…”

“Cause you’re some fucking saint, right Kidd?” you retort back at him, masking the hurt you were feeling with anger nearly matching the intensity of his own moments ago.

You see his eye twitch and his lip curl at your accusation, his step faltering slightly before he continues approaching you, slowing down ever so slightly.

“Never claimed to be a saint, princess,” he growls, “But I’m not the one running around kissing strangers after telling someone they love them.”

You feel the burning in your eyes rise again, his smug tone making your lip quiver as you try to keep the angry ember burning inside of you.

“You didn’t ask me to love you, remember? Maybe I’m trying not to anymore.”

Kidd’s hand reaches out to you and yanks you towards him by your forearm, his grip rough as he leans down so his face is a mere inch from yours.

“And how is that working for you?”

You tug your arm away from his grip, and he lets you go with an evil grin, eyes ablaze as he watches you back away from him. He stalks towards you again and reaches like he’s going to grab you again, but you swat at his hand defiantly.

“Don’t touch me!”

Kidd’s hand flinches back at the tone in your voice, stopping mid-stride he stares at you intently, gauging your reaction as your chest rises and falls with your heavy breathing.

After a few moments, Kidd resumes his steps, closing enough of the distance between the two of you to where you can feel his shallow breaths ghosting over your collarbone.

His smirk returns as he hears the slight hitch in your breathing, noting the twinkle of desire in your eye as he hovers over you.

“You sure you don’t want me to touch you, princess,” he croons, his fingertips ghosting over the skin of your arm as he defies your earlier command.

You shudder at the feeling, your throat going dry as his fingers send a shiver down your back. He traces his fingers up your arm and down the front of you, stopping to toy with the waistband of your skirt as he drops his eyes to where his hand is. 

“I bet that sweet little cunt of yours will tell me a different story,” he murmurs, dropping his head down and connecting his lips to your neck, placing wet kisses along your jaw as he slips his fingers down into your panties.

He hisses at the feeling of you, and you flush at just how easy it is for him to slip a finger inside of you, a feeble moan falling from your lips as he begins pumping it in and out of you. 

You’re grateful Killer had taken his leave once he felt the shift in the conversation, biting down on your lip as you try to stifle the moans Kidd is so effortlessly pulling from you. You feel your body arch into his touch as he slips in another finger, your hips bucking as he presses his thumb to your throbbing clit.

Just when you feel the pressure begin to build in your core, Kidd pulls away from you entirely, holding your angry gaze as he brings his fingers to his lips.

“Too bad you don’t want me to touch you,” he purrs, turning and walking away from your panting form. 

You snap out of the shock after he gets a few steps away, your own lip curling into a wicked grin as you call out after him.

“Maybe I’ll go have the guy at the bar touch me. His kiss was decent enough.”

Kidd’s hands are on you in an instant, pressing you down by your neck against a nearby table as he looms over you, eyes blazing.

“I fucking dare you.”

You feel the damp heat pooling in your legs as he stands between them, Kidd’s free hand tugging at his pants as he pulls out his cock and teases the head of it against your clothed cunt - pulling the fabric to the side an teasing your entrance a moment later. You both hiss at the sensation, and Kidd’s hips snap into you hastily, a strangled cry escaping your throat as he bullies himself into your warmth and immediately sets a punishing pace.

Your back scraps against the wood of the table as Kidd fucks into you, hand still holding you in place by the throat as he growls from above you. The sudden sting of his intrusion quickly melts into pleasure as he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you.

“You think his cock would’ve felt as good as mine, hm? You think he would’ve been able to make you scream like I can?”

Your only reply is a throaty moan as Kidd pumps his hips into yours, your vision going blurry as the pressure in your core begins to intensify. Kidd’s hand tightens around your throat as you close your eyes, causing them to snap back open and meet his amber orbs.

“Answer me.”

You shiver as he growls out his command, his metal hand reaching down to rub harsh circles on your clit.

“No!” you shutter, the volume of your voice rising with each hard thrust of Kidd’s hips.

Kidd’s response is a grunted laugh, his pace slowing as he feels your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he commands, his slow and deliberate thrusts punctuating his words.

You roll your eyes and bark out a laugh. “Fuck you,” you grit out between your teeth.

Kidd barks a laugh back, his mocking tone riling you up even more as he presses his hips to yours. 

“Isn’t that what we're doing, princess?” A quick snap of his hips and you hear the table creak from the pressure. “Tell me.”

You feel yourself involuntarily clamp down around Kidd’s length, his hand tightening in reaction as he stops his movements altogether and ruts his hips against yours, the movement not nearly enough to satiate you. 

You whine desperately as you try to buck your hips against him, his torturous stare boring into you as he holds you still. 

“It’s yours,” you gasp out, exasperated and desperate to feel him moving inside you again. 

“Hmm?” He croons, and your cheeks flush as you meet his heated gaze.

“It’s yours,” you say louder, more conviction in your voice as you see the triumphant grin curl onto Kidd’s lips.

He pulls himself out of you, nearly leaving you completely, before slamming himself back into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he pulls you to the edge of the table and pistons in and out of you. His metal finger returns to your clit and your moans vibrate through your chest as the cord in your abdomen tightens.

“Come for me, princess,” he hums from above you, losing himself in your grip as he feels his own orgasm rear its head. 

You do as he commands, your orgasm washing over you as your eyes screw shut, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you feel your voice go hoarse from calling out for him. You claw at the edge of the table as Kidd rocks into you, each wave of your orgasm causing your cunt to grip him tighter and tighter as his thrusts grow slower and sloppier, finally coming to a halt after he’s spent. Your labored breaths are the only thing that can be heard as soft waves rock against the ship until you slowly start to hear voices approaching in the distance - signaling the return of your crew.

Kidd wordlessly scoops you up into his arms, whisking you away to his quarters below the deck before anyone has a chance to see the two of you. Once inside, he sets you down gently on the bed, leaning over you and keeping his head nuzzled in your neck as he contemplates the next thing to say to you.

“I’m sorry.”

The last two words you were expecting leave his mouth, and you feel a lump form in your throat as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“For everything.”

Your mind flashes back to the heated words you two had exchanged over the past week, the tenderness in Kidd’s voice a soothing balm over the wounds that had been opened up in the process. You bring a hand to his face and stroke the soft skin of his cheek, his face leaning into your touch as your eyes haze over with sleep.

“You can continue apologizing in the morning,” you muse, a yawn escaping your lips as you cuddle down into his blanket, feeling him crawl into the bed behind you and pull you towards his chest.

“Does that mean I’m not forgiven yet?”

You chuckle lightly, rolling around to face him and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Nope,” you say with a wink, smiling at him teasingly. “You’re gunna have to do better than that.”

He blinks down at you unexpectedly, your challenge settling into his mind as his devilish grin returns. He flips you onto your back and tugs at your clothes, no longer willing to let you sleep until he proves to you just how sorry he really was.

🐯

“I’m fine, Bepo,” Law growls, dismissing him with a wave of his hand as he continues further into the ship. “I don’t care what she does, she’s the last of my concerns right now.”

Bepo waddles behind him wearily as he stomps towards his office, your quiet footsteps following them from a distance as you try to muster up the courage to face Law in his current state.

“Are you sure about that… Captain?” 

You hear Bepo’s weary voice as you approach the door, your footsteps coming to a halt just outside the office. You barely hear the grumbled response from Law as your heart begins thundering in your chest, swallowing hard as you will your legs to move you forward, stopping in the doorway as your heavy eyes look across the room to your captain.

His eyes take you in, and you try to mask the weariness on your face as he finally meets your gaze. He only holds it for a moment, before a scowl curls up onto his lips and he looks away, pulling his hat from his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“I-I’m gunna go…” Bepo stutters, and you glance at him with pleading eyes, trying to beg him not to abandon you. But he’s gone an instant later - leaving you in an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air.

Neither of you speak for a long while, neither of you able to find the right thing to address first. 

Law huffs out a deep sigh as he collapses into his chair, resting his elbows on his desk and clawing at his hair again.

“Did you need something, Y/N?” was all he could think to say, the edge in his voice teetering on annoyance as he struggled to grapple with the chaos of emotions in his head.

You clenched your fists tighter to your sides as you struggled to breathe, words escaping you as you searched your brain for something to say that wasn’t laced with the venom you wanted to spew back at him. You wanted to scream at him - wanted to make him realize the hurt he’d caused you to feel the last few days. You supposed the kiss with a random stranger had succeeded in that partially, but now he had the audacity to be the one acting upset?

Your mind raced a mile a minute as Law sat staring at you, his brows furrowed as he watched your gaze turn from sorrowful to… angry? There was something sparking through the haze in your eyes that he couldn’t put his finger on, and he braced himself as your chest rose with a deep inhale.

But instead of a snide comment, a feeble laugh was all you could muster as you loosed the breath you held, feeling your shoulders relax as you shut your eyes and turned on your heels. 

“Y/N,” Law’s voice held a commanding tone as he called out to you, and you paused mid-stride to glance over your shoulder at him.

To your surprise he had began to rise from his seat, and as you turned to face him once more he crossed the room in a few long strides, stopping less than a foot away from you. He reaches out an arm to you and you flinch away from him, his hand dropping when he sees your reaction.

“Are you… alright?”

You huff out another laugh at the question, and you swear Law flinches at your reaction. His brows furrow in irritation momentarily before softening again, and he puffs out a sigh before speaking again.

“I… I realize I may have been a bit… harsh with you the other day,” he says through gritted teeth, as if it pained him to admit he may have been in the wrong. “And I realize that you only pushed as hard as you did because you care.” He raises a hand to the back of his head and casts his gaze around the room, avoiding eye contact as he tries to find any words to ease the pain still lingering in your expression.

Still you remained silent, sensing how every non-response sent his pulse sky rocketing. You were unsure why, but something about the way you were effortlessly able to get under his skin had a smirk threatening to curl onto your lips as he leaned closer, eyes softening even more as he reaches a hand toward your chin.

You don’t flinch away from him this time, allowing him to pull your chin closer to his with his index finger, the touch gentle as his breath tickles the side of your neck. 

“Say something,” he pleads, his voice barely more than a whisper now, “Please. Tell me you’re alright, tell me you hate me - say anything, Y/N-ya.” His voice trembles a bit as he says your name, and any smugness you had felt dissipates at the sound.

You feel your lip quiver as you try to figure out what to say - what you want to say - and the two of you remain that way for a few more heartbeats before you finally break the silence.

“You… are a real asshole when you’re angry… you know that?” You drawl, sensing Law relax a bit at the smirk you offer him for a quick moment before your lips fall back into a harsh line. 

Law huffs out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating in your chest as he leans his head down towards your ear, kicking the door shut behind him before leading you further into the office.

“Says the girl who just threw herself at a stranger after making sure I was watching her every move.”

Your back stiffened as you felt the edge of Law’s desk press into the back of your legs, papers rustling behind you from the slight disturbance you’d caused.

“I did no such thing,” you said defiantly, though your voice came out less convincing than you had wanted it to. You swallowed hard as Law pulled his head back to look at you, his eyes a shade darker than they had been a moment ago as they watch the bob of your throat. 

“Keep lying to me, and I’ll have to punish you, Y/N-ya.”

Your thighs squeezed together at the threat, and you curse whatever broken part of you causes you to melt at the sight of your captain like this - at the condescending tone in his voice.

“I’m not,” you whisper, pressing your body against his as he watches you through heavy lids, “But I’ll gladly take whatever punishment you deem necessary, Captain.”

He hisses as you reach down and palm him through his pants, his considerable length pressing against his pants painfully. He grabs your wrist to halt your movements and your eyes fly up to meet his heated glare and biting your lip as a growl escapes his lips.

“Turn around.”

The command in his voice has heat pooling in your core as you turn and bend over the edge of his desk, not caring what papers you scatter to the floor in the process. Law silently lurks behind you, running a hand over your ass tenderly before pulling the waistband of your bottoms down, exposing yourself to him. He growls again, this time rubbing the flesh of your ass harshly before lifting his hand and bringing it down onto your ass cheek with a sharp slap.

“That,” he groans, and you hear him fidget with the buttons on his pants, “Is for disobeying your captain’s orders in the first place.”

Another slap to your opposite ass cheek has you crying out at the sensation, the sting of his hand immediately being soothed by his fingers as he kneads the swollen area.

“That… is for arguing with me and then avoiding me for three days.”

You wince as his hand raises again, a whine escaping his lips as he tears the underwear from your legs and pulls your back up and flush to his chest, his erection pressing between your ass cheeks as he breathes harshly along the shell of your ear.

“You’re too loud,” he groans, balling your underwear up and shoving it into your mouth as a make-shift gag. “Keep quiet or I’ll cut this punishment short.”

You nod your head as he leans you back over the desk, tracing your entrance with the tip of his cock as you bite back a moan. Law grabs your forearms and crosses them over your back, gripping both of them in one hand as he presses himself into your warmth, a muffled moan escaping your lips despite your best efforts.

“Quiet,” Law snaps, pulling himself from you and laying another smack to your ass as you feel tears begin to prickle at the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is labored as he presses back into you, this time sinking into your walls completely, the stretch of him inside you causing your eyes to water further as the slight pain melts into pleasure as he sets a punishing pace as he moves in and out of you.

The sound of your skin slapping together fills the office, the sound accompanied by Law’s husky grunts and your muffled moans. You really did try to contain them, but the feeling of him moving inside you was too overwhelming for you to care about the sounds coming out of you.

Law yanks your arms back, causing your back to arch up off the desk as he leans forward and wraps an arm around your shoulders. The new angle has you leaning back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he feels your walls tighten around him.

“You never know when to shut the hell up, do you?”

Your defiant response is to let out an even louder cry as he releases the hand around your arms and wraps it around you to thumb at your clit, chasing after his own release as you tumble into your orgasm. You feel yourself clamp around him tightly as the waves of pleasure have your vision blurring, your mouth going dry as you try to cry out his name. Law hears your attempts and pulls the underwear from your mouth, his cock twitching when he’s finally able to hear his name fall from your lips. You feel his body tenses and his legs begin to shake as Law drags his cock hastily through your walls, until finally his thrusts grow sloppy and his own orgasm washes over him. Each grunt of your name sends a wave of goosebumps over your skin as he comes to a still behind you, peppering your shoulder with gentle kisses as he lifts his hand and the two of your bodies are replaced by pillows inside his office.

Back in Law’s quarters, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you needily, trying to convey all the emotions he’s wrestled with over the past few days with the action.

“Just so you know,” he says when he finally pulls away, his eyes falling to your puffy and swollen lips as he licks his own, “I do want you here. I always want you here, Y/N-ya.”

You feel your chest tighten as you think back to the heated words the two of you had exchanged days prior, letting out a small sigh of relief at the reassuring words you’d been waiting to hear. “Even if I don’t know how to shut the hell up?”

Law grins, a devilish twinkle sparkling in his eye as he dips his head back down to yours.

“Especially because of that.”

100 Follower Event Masterlist ✨come say hai :3✨

[yikesharringrove]

Billy's always loved libraries.

He fucking loves books, has since he was a little kid.

But he just loves everything about them.

In California, he loved the air conditioning. He loved the fact he could find some random corner and not have to go home for hours and hours. He loved that he could read whatever he wanted for free. He loved that if he didn't actually take it home with him, his dad couldn't give him shit for the books he read at an alarming pace.

In Hawkins, it was a place to hide.

Nobody expected Billy Hargrove to be tucked away in the very back of the library, his nose in a book.

And to be fair, he hadn't expected Steve Harrington to be in the library, either.

Billy didn't even know his name the first time he saw him.

Steve had a cart next to him, and was reshelving books, humming quietly to himself.

Billy was fresh to Hawkins, and all he knew was that this town was shitty, and that boy was absolutely beautiful.

In a few days, when he was finally enrolled at the high school, he learned the boy's name.

Steve Harrington.

The stories about him were so different than Billy expected. The tales of the wild party boy, the wannabe bully with a short fuse and a shitty right hook.

Everything he had seen in the library was contradictory to everything he now knew.

Steve wasn't much of a presence at school. He was quiet in his classes, often daydreaming out of the window, or doodling sleepily on his meager notes.

Billy sat one row beside and two seats behind him in calculus, and he had noticed the large red grades at the top of each of his assignments. The low scores and the come see me! scrawled in the teacher's writing.

His ineptitude at school fit somewhere in the middle of the two Steves Billy had come to think about.

Mean party animal Steve didn't care about school. Didn't study and smirked at failing grades.

Library worker Steve blinked tears out of his eyes and stayed behind in class to explain to the teacher I promise, I studied so hard. I don't know what happened, I studied every night last week.

Billy had decided, he liked both versions of Steve. He liked the one with a snarl on his lips and a glint in his eye when Tommy H. said something fucking stupid. He liked the one who showed kids to the childrens' section with a soft smile and gave them a high five when they found a book to check out.

It took a few days for Steve to become aware of the shadow in the library, following his every move as he went through his shift.

The new guy at school. Billy Hargrove.

Metal head lady killer. Who gets into fights and flirts with everyone with a pair of tits.

Who sits in the library and reads Emily Bronté.

He smiled at Steve when they first made eye contact across the reference desk, and Steve thinks he must be imagining the wink thrown his way.

Billy had spread out on one of the desks near the back, his calculus textbook open, notes strewn about.

They had a test the following day that Billy was studying for.

Steve had kinda already accepted the failing he was probably going to earn.

But maybe...

Steve's shift is up in half an hour.

Luckily, Billy stayed put where he was, Walkman headphones over his ears, pouring over notes and example problems.

Steve knocked on the table top like a dork.

Billy looked up at him, and whoa, his eyes are so blue. He pulled his headphones down.

"Hi, uh, Billy, right?" Steve's face felt hot, but Billy just nodded. "Um, we're in the same calculus class-"

"I know. I've noticed you in there."

Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Yeah. Well. I suck as math, and-"

"Do you want to study with me?"

And Billy liked the look on Steve's face. The eye-crinkled grateful smile. It was in between the Steves he knew. It was kind, but he laughed at himself easily.

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I mean, I'm stupid at calculus."

"Nah," Steve liked the way Billy brushed off Steve's insecure commentary. "This shit is hard. You wanna do some practice problems?"

[silaslich]

The heat of imposition

John “Soap” Mactavish x f!reader x Simon “Ghost” Riley

Summary - Rugby AU. While watching a rugby match with Kyle you happen to catch the attention of not one, but two of the players. Neither of them like the fact that the other wants you too. [part 1/2]

Wc - 4.8k

An - I know fuck all about rugby so ignore any inaccuracies, we’re here for sex not rugby

It isn’t by chance that you find yourself at the pitch.

Your arm had been twisted- hands tied. You’d lie and say you had no choice, but the truth is that you simply have nothing better to do on a random rainy Saturday in October.

Kyle hadn’t given you much of an alternative when it came to making plans; his idea of fun might be sitting in the cold as he nurses a cheap beer and ogles a cluster of beefed-up middle aged men while they run around tackling each other- but you? It wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when he’d texted you and asked if you were free to hang out.

You know him well enough to know that he’s called you in to be his wingman; someone to keep the beers coming to feed his already brimful confidence, someone that will push him if the chance for him to chat someone up arises. It’s what usually happens when the two of you meet for a drink or for dinner, his eyes wander and his intuition carries him toward the closest thing to a decent lay.

You’ll wave him off with a smile and mouth at him to call you when it’s convenient- usually to update you on how incredible or lacklustre the sex he’d abandoned you for was. You’re not bitter about it, not really, you have to give it to him. At least one of you is getting something. You suppose it’s for lack of trying, what with work and a sheltered nightlife- you can’t exactly say you’re putting yourself out there.

Kyle has tried time after time, sliding folded pieces of paper with your number scrawled on it to punters as they sit at the bar waiting for their drinks or pulling you with him as he ventures to the dance floor- accidentally bumping you into strangers, drawing their eyes and their attention. You appreciate his efforts, but you’re not exactly looking, it’s all the same to you. You’d slept around abit at uni and enjoyed it to a point, chasing that high and filling the endless void of assignments and work placements- you need something more now.

Settling is a scary thought. You’re not sure that’s what you’re after, but you don’t want a meaningless one-night stand either. You haven’t found that happy-healthy medium yet, you can’t be sure it exists. At least not to the men in this town, everyone knows everyone- it’s hard to get away from that.

You grit your teeth hard, feeling the way the cold ebbs its way into your bones. Even the beer isn’t keeping you warm, and that usually does the trick.

“Is it nearly over yet?” Your teeth chatter around the words, Kyle tuts at you.

“You can’t be serious” he turns to look at you, noting that you are in fact very serious. He frowns slightly. “It’s not even halftime yet”.

The sound that’s choked out of your throat makes him quirk a brow. Yet, Kyle’s attention is drawn back to the pitch by the sound of a whistle, some kind of swap between players has stilted the gameplay.

You’re not that well versed in rugby. Have kept up with it here and there, mainly because of Kyle and your boss because it’s all they talk about at work. They put it on every telly in the pub when their favourite team is on and they start to become idle when it comes down to the last few minutes of gameplay- stood there like toddlers that are transfixed by dancing fruits on a screen.

It’s quite funny really, watching Kyle as he barely tries to make it look as though he’s still working- rubbing a dry cloth over an already cleaned down table.

“Oh shit” Kyle’s breath carries on the breeze, drifting across your face as he speaks. It’s just that cold.

“What’s happening?” You mimic Kyle in the way he leans forward in his seat, watching carefully at what’s unfolding on the pitch.

Kyle doesn’t answer, instead watching as the away team’s players crowd together, meanwhile the home team congregates closer to their benches- they’re swapping someone on.

You see a wide smile crack across his face from out the corner of your eye, it pulls you to look at him fully. Seeing his wide-expectant eyes and gaped mouth, you grimace, slightly put off by just how much he’s enjoying watching on- you think you’d rather watch paint dry.

“When do they start brawling, ay? This is boring” you smack your lips together and take a heavy swig of your beer. It warms your throat, barely. Kyle turns to look at you, smiling like an idiot.

“Funny you should say that” he raises his brows and jerks his head in the direction of the players they’re swapping- you follow his gaze, it doesn’t enlighten you in the slightest.

You open your mouth to question him but Kyle beats you to it, already preempting your confusion and overall lack of culture for his favourite sport and his favourite team.

“They’re putting their main prop on, Riley” Kyle’s eyes watch the player in question and so do you, observing his team mates as they pump their fists and clap him on the back- following on as he moves further onto the pitch.

“He fight often?” You ask, eyeing the dark ink that stretches across both of his arms and retreats under the sleeves of his jersey.

There’s skulls and bones and snakes and gnashing teeth that make up a portrait of something that might be a dog. It’s hard to tell from all the way up in the stands; you’re sat within hearing distance of their shouts as the players go over strategy- but your eyes can’t quite focus enough to read the letters that brand his knuckles and the blocks of black ink that cover the backs of his hands. Shame.

Kyle laughs, something deliberate and knowing. “Yeah, you could say that”. His smile is hiding something, you just know it. You raise a wry brow.

“That why he was benched?” The look on Kyle’s face alone tells you all that you need to know, he nods as you shake your head with an unamused sigh.

“He’s been benched the last few games, close to being banned altogether from what I hear” Kyle observes Riley as he speaks, they’re about to restart play with a scrum.

You continue watching the game, noting another player that’s almost as big as Riley is. The back of his jersey reads Mactavish. He has a sharp smile on him, even with his mouth guard, you can’t closely see the rest of his features all that well, apart from his grown out mohawk- you didn’t realise this was the 70s.

Mactavish is quick to be on Riley, jumping high and wrapping his arms around the bigger man’s neck, hanging off him like a scarf. Their mouth-guard-smiles are wide and Riley swats at Mactavish, manhandling him until he’s got him hoisted off the ground entirely- that’s when he pushes him away and kicks his legs out from underneath him. Sending him skidding across the grass.

It’s rough housing. Simple play fighting. Kyle tells you it’s common practice for these two in particular, spending half their time butting heads and charging at each other like rhinos. Much to the dismay of their coach by the sounds of it. A whistle blows and it’s shrill in your ears.

“Pack it in bellends! Head in the game!” There’s a gruff looking man shouting from the side lines, he’s tall and broad with a beanie that’s pulled tight over his head- there’s specks of salt and pepper hairs in his mutton chops.

The two men snap their necks toward the coach and do as their told, trying to kick each others legs out from one another as they run toward where the rest of their team is forming up to restart play.

It’s starting to get interesting, because they’re not half bad to look at, these two, not half bad at all. Mactavish especially, bar the haircut. Riley on the other hand, he’s got that unconventional attractiveness about him; with his wonky nose and ashen blonde hair, hooded eyes that contrast heavily- they’re as dark as his tattoos. Perhaps it’s the way he carries himself too- his wide shoulders and thick chest, strong and solid and unbothered by the way the other men move out of his way when he passes the opposite team.

You don’t realise you’re gawping until Kyle waves his hand in front of your face, making you blink. He laughs to himself.

“Like what you see?” He asks, amused, watching as your cheeks flare. You bristle.

“Fuck off” you hate being caught out, especially after giving Kyle gripe this whole time about how boring all of this is. You stand abruptly, “I’m off to get something to eat, you want something?” Kyle eyes you, a smirk creeping up his face.

“Something salty if you don’t mind” he wags his brows and you smother your palm into his face as you squeeze past his legs to retreat down the steps toward the food kiosks. You hear his laugh follow you as you reach the bottom of the steps.

You keep an eye on the game as you walk, flitting your eyes from the pitch to the ground so you don’t slip on the steps. As you steal another glance over toward the home team, you find a pair of bright blue eyes looking right back at you. So blue they practically glow, burning right through you. As blue as celestite, something shines in them when he looks at you- but you’re quick to look away and scurry down the steps. Cheeks heating once again, for reasons even you’re not sure of.

It’s without your knowledge that Mactavish’s eyes follow you the entire time as you retreat. His stare trained on you. Distracted completely. Riley is quick to bring him back to earth, watching Mactavish watch you, he grunts as he steps toward the Scotsman, yanking out his mouth guard with a wet shlack sound.

“You ‘aven’t got a chance, now move your arse” Riley smacks the back of Mactavish’s head when he doesn’t move, watching you right up until the point you disappear out of his view. The Scot smiles wildly around his mouth guard, then spits it into his hand.

“Wanna bet?” he turns to Riley and Riley has seen that look before, many times, and it’s never ended well. Yet, he raises a brow as he looks down at the Scot, matching that same look himself.

After paying extortionate prices for a portion of chips and a burger to split you forego another beer each and go for water instead. It’s blatant daylight robbery.

You make a point not to look out onto the pitch as you make your way back to Kyle, save yourself from embarrassment and ending up falling on your arse. Kyle moves his knees to allow you past and you slump down into the seat, offering up the food to him so you can take a swig of water.

“You okay? You look flush, was it a long walk?” He picks up a few chips at a time as he shoves them into his mouth, chewing quickly and blowing air through his mouth from how piping hot they still are. You throw him a look, an unimpressed look.

“I’m freezing my tits off Kyle and I’m hungry, allow it” it’s a whine that leaves your mouth and Kyle soothes you mockingly, offering you some chips- you take them gladly.

Halftime comes and goes. The food has sated you, if only a little bit, but it saves Kyle from any more of your complaining. You find it easier to follow now, a belly full of food and the rest of Kyle’s beer that he didn’t want to finish- it makes you more palpable, makes you sit a little less stiff in your horribly uncomfortable plastic seat. Kyle appreciates it.

Mactavish and Riley don’t escape your eyes, not for the remainder of the game. It’s easier to gawp at them from up here, if they glanced over they wouldn’t exactly know that your eyes are fixed on them specifically, all they’d see is a pair of eyes looking in their general direction- obviously just following the ball as it passes hands. Little do you know, that they are indeed glancing over, as fixed on you as you are them, they’re just better at being sly with it. Only moving their eyes and not their heads and necks, not making it obvious. Not until Mactavish ups the ante.

It’s as you’re distracted for a second, turning your attention to your phone- your boss, Nik, asking if you can come in tonight. You text back quickly, letting him know you’ll see him at six. Looks like Kyle isn’t getting away from me at all today. That’s when you feel Kyle’s elbow in your ribs.

“Ow” you make a point to overemphasise, nudging his arm away from you like his touch burns.

“Look” his hand pats down repeatedly on your thigh as his opposite hand points towards the pitch, your eyes follow the point of his finger and your face pales.

It’s Mactavish. Waving both arms to get your attention, and when he has it his face beams- it makes you sink down into your seat, beyond blushed and embarrassed. He continues to wave as he rejoins the play, you watch the teams come back his way and then he winks at you, moving to turn fully to flank a teammate.

“Lucky bitch” Kyle’s mouth hangs open in shock, looking from you to Mactavish as he darts across the pitch. You groan.

“You have him then” Kyle laughs but you don’t, as nice as the player is to look at, you’re not in the mood for games.

“He wasn’t waving at me, love” he wags his brows and grabs your arm, flailing it around as he giggles like an idiot, far more excited for this than you are. You sit stock still and ignore Kyle, hoping he’ll pack it in. He does- eventually.

Before long, the game finishes and it’s the home team who are victorious. They jump and shout and knock into one another, again pulling each other into embraces and slapping each other’s backs with closed fists. It’s all well and good, you stand and pull Kyle with you- you’ve had enough of Rugby for one day.

Kyle lets himself be pulled along, filtering out amongst the thinning crowd. You’ve both got a few hours before you’re due to go into work, a quick nap wouldn’t go amiss, you guess it depends how fast Kyle can drive.

You’re walking in step with Kyle, careful of the slippy stairs, you clutch the sleeve of his jacket for stability and then there’s a voice that rings out. Thick with a Scottish accent and with an abundance of audacity to go with it.

“Oi! She yer lass or wha’?” It’s Mactavish, and he’s looking directly at Kyle, jogging over toward the stands.

Kyle stiffens and you glance at his face, he looks startled. Or would it be star struck? These players are celebrities to Kyle, you imagine this isn’t how he would want his first interaction with them to go. You watch Mactavish as he vaults over the first set of barriers, coming closer to where Kyle is now frozen to the spot- you’re stuck alongside him.

The stands are completely separate to the pitch and are raised up off of the ground instead of starting right at the pitch side, so Mactavish can’t actually get that close to talk. He instead has to settle for standing about ten foot beneath where you and Kyle are stood, craning his neck to grin up at the two of you. From this improved distance you can see him a lot clearer. There’s a prominent scar that cuts through his right eyebrow and reaches down his cheek and there’s the slight growth of stubble coming through on his cheeks and chin. He’s more handsome close up, you’ll give him that, it goes with the brashness he exudes. He knows he’s pretty.

He’s out of breath as he stands there, hands on his hips and so sweat slicked that you can see the way it drips down from his chin to his chest. It’s his eyes, still, they’re hardly natural. So bright and pale and beautiful to look at, you could fall right into them.

“Well?” The Scot wants an answer, you’re sure he won’t move until he’s got one.

Kyle wets his lips to speak but you cut him off.

“I’m no one’s lass, mate” there’s certain ways to hit on women, and coming right up to them and asking whoever they happen to be with if they’re single or not isn’t the best way- not in your humble opinion at least.

“Good news f’me then” his smirk cracks across his face, impossibly wide, your face doesn’t change at all. Still not impressed.

“What makes you think that?” It’s a honest question for him, does he think that because he plays a sport (sometimes)professionally that you’ll let him get in your pants? Does he seriously think that?

The man dips his chin as he stands there, shaking his head, it messes up the sweat-soaked length of his mohawk, when he looks back up at you again it’s messier then it had been. His smile is just as wide as before, his eyes crinkle from the autumnal sun as it beams from behind you. He flattens a palm to his chest and taps against it.

“Names Johnny” you raise a brow at him but it doesn’t deter him, not even in the slightest.

You’re not giving him clear indicators that you’re completely uninterested, more so that you don’t appreciate how he’s gone about the whole thing. Again, you must admit, he’s very lovely to look at.

It’s quick when you walk away, a game of chase, he can suffer for his pig-headedness. Kyle stands there, a little more than dumbfounded, while he wants to follow you- he also wants to speak with Mactavish, he’s been a fan for a long time. When he turns to look at the Scot down below, he finds him still smiling up at him, there’s a look of mischief in his eyes.

Only a few feet behind him stands another, it’s Riley, and he’d heard every word of your conversation with Johnny. He guesses the game is set now they know for sure that you’re single, but let’s be honest, they would have both been game even if you weren’t.

______________________________________

“Hold on a second, say that again?” Your jaw is locked tight, molars grinding, he can’t be serious.

Kyle scratches at the back of his head, sheepishly, there’s worry lines that are creasing his forehead as he looks between you and Nik. Good, he should be worried where you’re concerned. He fucked up.

“Look I said I’m sorry, alright? What was I supposed to say to him?” Kyle sits on a stool at the bar, opposite to where you and Nik stand side by side on the other side of it.

Nik throws you a glance and you shake your head at him, he’s just as unimpressed as you are, you both know that Kyle is smarter then this- at least, he is most of the time.

“How about not telling him where I work? Thats a start. May as well tell him where I live, Kyle” your tone drifts, while Kyle is your friend, he clearly hadn’t thought before he’d spoken. Thinking more about impressing his rugby idols than the safety of his best mate, these guys could be any breed of weirdo for all you know.

“I agree with her Kyle, you need to think before you say things like that” Nik folds his arms over his chest, thick brows furrowed as he stares at Kyle, who is scratching a single finger against the polished wood of the bar top.

You aren’t trying to gang up on him, he knows he shouldn’t have told Mactavish anything, but he still did- that wouldn’t change just because he suddenly felt bad. He’s got some grovelling to do, to say the least.

“Do you want to head home? I’m sure we can find a way to manage, doll” Nik’s eyes find yours, he’s always been a softie, always looking out for you like you’re the kid he never had. Your brows furrow.

“Absolutely not, I’m not about to be bullied out of work by a bunch of thick skulled ball chasers. Let ‘em try something Nik, they’ll soon find out” you leave the conversation at that, following the repeated wails of the glasswasher in the back as it lets you know it’s ready to be emptied.

—————————————————————————

For the most part, the night is typical. It’s a busy Saturday night in a louder part of town and there’s everyone from regulars to students to tourists. It’s an easier night for you thanks to Kyle, his want to get back in your good books means he’s doing all of the shit jobs. Cleaning the bogs and serving tables. Clearing the glasses away and scrubbing the sticky tables. All while you’re tucked behind the bar pulling pints and making drinks, it’s something you could get used to, Kyle should piss you off more often if this is the treatment you get.

You watch the clock out of habit and notice it’s almost half nine, only an hour and half before you close, not long before you can go home and wash the day away and sleep all of this off. You just have to get through another hour and a half unscathed, that’s it.

Mactavish dashes those plans.

Before you see them, you hear them. It looks like the whole team might be here, they pile in through the door and already look as if they’re half Irish. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, knowing you’re in full view of not just them but other customers too.

Mactavish squeezes through the bodies as they linger around the booths and seats, not all able to fit comfortably, Mactavish sings your name.

“Fancy seein’ you here, bonnie” he grins wide, no longer obstructed by the mouth guard.

Compared to earlier when he was covered in grass stains and sweat, you hate to admit that he scrubs up well. Dressed casually with a shirt that’s close to matching his eyes, he doesn’t seem like the type if you’re honest.

“Oh yes, what a coincidence” the sarcasm reaches, you watch it in his eyes, the way his jaw flexes. He smiles and shakes his head.

“Tough nut to crack, ain’t ya?” He’s unapologetic with the way his eyes wander, the music thumps loudly in your ears but you can still hear the heaviness the alcohol adds to his tongue.

“What makes you think I wanna be cracked?” You make a point to busy your hands, to do anything to distract you from his eyes, there’s lemons in front of you that need slicing- they’ll suffice.

He raises a brow at that. Sliding his elbows onto the bar, bringing his height down to yours, eye to eye, if you’d just look at him.

“Saw the way you were lookin’ at me bonnie” he drops his tone, practically husks the words, he’s teasing. You laugh.

“Bein’ pretty bold to say I’ve got a knife in my hand” you hammer the point in, bringing the knife down heavier then before against the chopping board only to raise it up to slide your finger across it to catch the juice. He watches you carefully.

“You know how to use it?” He asks, again teasing, seeing how much he can get away with. He wants to soften you up. It’ll take more than that.

“D’you wanna find out?” It’s an open question, depending on how he behaves he could very well lose a finger, you’d deal with any charges he might want to press tomorrow. He just grins at you stupidly.

“I wanna take you out” he leans forward, reaching an arm over the bar to swipe a lemon slice, you watch as he sucks it into his mouth. Never breaking his eyes from yours, he’s got you.

“I want a lot of things, doesn’t mean I can have ‘em” you haven’t clocked him yet, not completely, he seems pretty harmless. But don’t they all?

He hums, sliding the lemon out of his mouth between his fingers, considering you. “Could give ‘em to you” his eyes meet yours but you’re quick to look away, returning to the lemons.

You scoff. “If I agree to a date will you go away? I’m working” just because you agree to something doesn’t mean you’re obliged, you’ll think on it more clearly when you’re not at work- being stared at by those burning blue eyes.

“Pretty rubbish conditions if ye ask me” he slurps at the lemon obnoxiously, you see the flash of a tongue piercing.

“Well forget it then-“ he interjects.

“Chill yerself bonnie, I’m goin’” he holds his hands up in surrender as he stands back to his full height, the lemon slice is replaced back between his teeth- for a brief moment.

He moves to step away but he’s quick to turn on his heel, chewing the lemon down till it slots inside his cheek. “Be back for yer number to arrange that date” he wags a finger in your general direction as he speaks, quickly turning back toward the booth where his teammates are all squashed in together.

—————————————————————————

Half an hour. Just half an hour and you can start to close up. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel.

Mactavish had behaved since leaving you at the bar, hardly looking in your direction, which you appreciated. You didn’t need him and his stupid blue eyes knocking you off of your concentration, not when you’re handling this much glass. You steal a glance over at his table from time to time, hearing his roaring laugh and watching the way he interacts with his mates. They all look close. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, making them soft, sitting on each other’s thighs with arms slung around each others necks. You imagine it’s normal that they’re all so close, they must spend hours and hours and hours together just training let alone at matches.

It’s quietening down now as a whole, some tables still linger to chatter, like the rugby lot. Most have gone now, moving onto the better clubs, this is just a pit stop usually- somewhere to line their stomachs before they get so paralytic that they’re soon laid in the streets laughing their heads off or spewing their guts up.

It’s an opportune time to start clearing glasses, now that the bar is quiet if not ready to close. Gaz is in the cellar doing whatever it is that he does down there, you hate it down there. So you’ll take the better job of clearing glasses and shoving them in the washer, fully prepared to forget about them until you’re back tomorrow.

This is usually the case, balancing a dozen glasses on one tray because you’re too lazy to make two trips. You’re so close to the bar, almost within reaching distance, and then someone from the rugby table throws his hands up and throws you off balance.

You close your eyes as you feel yourself tumbling, you’ve had too many shards of glass blasted out of your eyes by Nik and his saline bottle of doom, so you squeeze them shut tightly. There’s suddenly a warm pressure that coils around your waist but you’re too distracted by the sound of the glasses smashing to think about it. You dare to crack your eyes open, gaze immediately falling to the ground and seeing the mess that you’ve made. For fucks sake. Your eyes skate from the broken glass on the floor to the hand at your waist, gripping you tight, flush with something solid.

From up close you can see now that the tattoos on his left knuckles read soul.

Riley’s breathing is heavy against your spine and you don’t move, you daren’t move, and it seems Riley is much the same. Not until you hear a whistle from across the rugby table.

“Looks real cosy, Simon” that accent, it’s Johnny.

[kitkats-and-kittens]

A very batty Christmas

Don’t know if anyone’s done this before, but Batfam getting sucked into a generic hallmark movie due to villain shenanigans ft StephCass, cause duh.

Stephanie is the protagonist, because she’s blonde. She’s the big city girl who’s moving to gingerbread village because her evil boss (Bruce who is very confused and not sure why Wayne Enterprises is suddenly an evil bakery shutting down company) is shutting down the local bakery.

After a quick conversation with her now fiancée Tim Drake (they are both disgusted), she’s off.

She arrives in gingerbread village and is immediately accosted by the local Christmas spirit, read: Carollers (Duke and Jason, who were lucky enough to be cast as side characters. They are sitting back and enjoying the drama)

After throwing a quick middle finger at them, she is saved by none over than the local bakery owner. Cassandra Cain (she has never baked a thing in her life, and now her business is in jeopardy because she’s burnt all the Christmas cookies and she has quite litteraly no understanding of customer service).

She takes Steph to the local inn, run by none other than a very upset Dick Grayson (he knows he isn’t built for the rugged look and no matter how many times he changes his outfit the plot always forces him into a flannel)

She checks in and the next day begins reporting on the local bakery, because big evil company has sent her to shut it down. (Bruce has no memory of this he calls Stephanie several times to try tell her that she can just come home, but small rural town=no cell service.)

Finally she arrives at small town bakery and she enters to the smell of burning. Cass is handling it, but in the mean time she is introduced to Damian, who is not thriving. Its cold, without service and he’s stuck living above a bakery of all things, playing the resident child who exists to say something childish and quirky that’s actually super wise and gives the main character an epiphany somewhere towards the end of the film. At least he has a random golden retriever with him. He misses Titus though.

In the meantime he has to deal with Cass’ disastrous attempts at making cookies.

They aren’t entirely sure why the plot demands they live together. Are they friends? Siblings? Mother and son? Estranged Aunt and Nephew who was taken in after his parents death in what was probably a planned hit by evil big city corporation in order to further their goals of building a mall or a parking lot or whatever it is their building? No one wants to know, least of all them.

Steph moves on to the kitchen to see what’s going on and she and Cass get to talking about the local Christmas cookies baking competition on Christmas Eve that if they win will give them just enough money to save the bakery!!!!

She is offered some cookies but they don’t look edible so she declines returning to the inn.

Dick is chopping wood and not looking at all happy about it as he informs Steph of the impending snow storm that will no doubt overcome gingerbread village.

Steph however is too rattled with guilt at having to shut down this small town bakery to hear him.

The next day she returns (unwillingly, the plot forced her) to the bakery, but oh no. What’s this? Impending snow storm that she was totally warned about???

Well she’ll have to bunk down in the bakery, so she is invited in which is weird right cause they’ve known each other for like 2 days in universe and who gives a fuck. It’s Christmas!!!!!

Cue bonding montage where they go on walks, talk about their childhoods and Cass attempts to teach Steph how to bake, except neither of them had present enough parents during their childhood to teach them so they’re both sort of floundering. Steph bonds with Damian (read they sit next to each other once, he calls her fat, she throws a shoe at his head)

But there’s love in the air or whatever, until dun dun dun despite not having service, she gets a call from her evil boss, (read Bruce asking if she’s alright), who wants her to shut down gingerbreadvill bakery, (he has no intention of doing that, why is everyone so insistent on him shutting down this local business?) followed by her evil fiancée, (Tim who’s just as confused as she is to realise he’s booked a ticket to come see her for some reason)

She puts down the phone and oh no, small town bakery owner overheard her and knows her true motive. (Cass doesn’t care, she’s more interested in eating cookies than making them) but plot demands the third act misunderstanding so Steph leaves in shame.

The magical snow storm has magically vanished. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and her deadline to shut down the bakery, but what’s this? There’s carollers outside her window giving her hope. (Jason and Duke who didn’t realise their true importance to the plot, standing outside her window in the freezing cold singing a plot relevant Christmas carol or something)

Well she throws caution to the wind and returns to the bakery, but Cass isn’t there, Damian is though and he gets to have his moment and give her some great advice (“she went to that one place you had your intimate moment in three scenes ago, now fuck off”)

She finds Cass and explains how she doesn’t want to shut down gingerbreadvil bakery anymore, but oh no, it’s already Christmas Eve, what to do?

Well they return to the bakery and probably get Dick, Jason and Duke and some other local town members to come together and make cookies (cause it’s Christmas guys!!!) they submit them to the local Christmas cookies baking competition on Christmas Eve, three people vomit and one of the judges has to be taken to the hospital for food poisoning but the plot demands they win.

They kiss under the moonlight and Tim arrives just in time for Steph to hand him back his ring (they are both incredibly relived) the story ends and everyone lives happily ever after.

The batfam are freed after the plot ends and all agree to never speak of the incident again.

Except neither Cass nor Steph are as upset as they probably could be and maybe if they try baking cookies for real this time, (with strict recipes and guidelines) and go walking under the moonlight together and generally being a cute cringy hallmark couple then nobody needs to know.

[puripurin]

SHOWMANSHIP [🎊🎉770 Followers Special🎉🎊] [PT. 1]

➥ Yan!Ringmaster x Acrobatic!Reader

➥ Summary :- Like always, misfortune almost always has a choke hold on the reader, so you get sold to a circus for the meer sum of 1,250 dollers.

— "IS THAT ALL I'M WORTH TO YOU??" You boomed at your parents, grateful for the bars that so kept you a foot's distance from ripping your parents to shreads.

"Honey, listen -" Your father was brutally cut off by your untamed anger radiating off of the walls, screeching so loud that it made the cell bars vibrate momentarily afterwards. There was no way in hell this man was trying to butter you up after selling you off.

"No. YOU listen to me, you wasteful, unwanted sperm doner. YOU could've worked me to the BONE, and I would have forgiven you because we still need a roof over our heads, but to sell me to some random-ass person who probably smells like your fuckin' toe jam for a mere sum of 1,250 DOLLARS!??? You hurled insults at your parents left and right, only recieving furious stares in return.

"[Y/N]! That is no way to speak to your father! We were low on funds, and our payment was due soon." She stepped forward with a sharp expression engraved in her face.

"LOW ON FUNDS!?!? WAS IT YOUR GRAND PLAN TO SELL ME FOR JUST 1,250 DOLLARS??"

Your intermittent breathing became the only thing that was stopping you from going over the edge of insanity town. Your parents stood without motion, their eyes locked on you as if they weren't the ones who should've been in the cell instead.

"...Don't you want your due payments to disappear? That's rich, how ironic, huh? Or maybe you two were just waiting on an opportunity to make me disappear?!?!"

Without waiting for a response, you slammed your hand on the part of the iron bars closest to their faces, getting surprised fast blinks from your mother. Her pride lasting in all of this was honestly pissing you off.

"YOU FLABBY-ASS-HAVING CUNT! YOU COULD HAVE NEGOTIATED FOR MORE MONEY!! IT'S NO WONDER WHY YOU HAD TO BRING THAT CHEAP-ASS PEARL NECKLACE, BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO NEARSIGHTED TO SEE THAT THE PRICE TAG WAS ONLY FOR 8 DOLLARS. FUCKIN' BRAGGING TO THE BAND OF THE BITCHES HOW YOU WE'RE ABLE TO BUY AN 8K PEARL NECKLACE KNOWING DAMN WELL YOUR ASS IS SO POOR THAT YOU HAD TO ASK ME TO PAY FOR THAT SHIT BECUASE YOU ONLY HAD 2 GODFORSAKEN DOLLARS IN THAT RIP-OFF CHANEL BAG." You sneered at the woman who was shaking in frustration.

"Dear, there is no worry for this... thing anymore. Our twin daughters will pave the way for greatness, bringing wealth and fortune to our name. Their talents and beauty hold no bounds." The woman looked over at her husband as you glared at them before you as if they were brainless, dilapidated creatures.

"Keep on sweet talking to them like that, and they'll end up in jail for homicide." You held up a middle finger and walked to a corner of the cell. You heard them spit in the front of the gate to your cell as they left. Silence then engulfed your surroundings.

No more of your parents' nagging and selfish tendancies. It was because of them that you could never look at your early twenties with fond memories. Looking back, you could have been partying and romancing other people, yet all you were promised was work, work, and more work. The pressure of trying to make money for your teen siblings and parents was exhausting, especially when your mother was spending more than you could make. That was how you got an earful from both your parents and siblings when they found out that the family's credit score was so low that it practically nestled right beside the dogshit on the side of the road.

"Fuck. This fucking sucks..." You couldn't hold back the resentment that forced themselves out your eyes in beads of tears. You were already at 26, with no job, no car, no money, no partner, and worth only 1,250 dollars. The path you walked on was not one adorned for the bunnies and butterflies, but rather, was draped in colourless desperation and pure survival.

"At least an arranged marriage would've given me the things I worked so hard for! But no! They just want me to die miserable and poor!"

"Awe, is my new performer preaching about death? My, a face like yours would be a total waste in a casket." The voice of a man echoed through the cell, almost making you jump out of your skin. He appeared almost instantaneously before your cell gate; he was dressed in an array of red, black, and white with an assortment of ruffles.

"You! YOU SCUMMY BASTARD! JUST WAIT 'TIL I HAVE YOUR HEAD ON A PLATTER TO FEAST ON!" You stormed your way back to the front of your cell and looked him directly in the eyes.

"Ah... I'm sure you would enjoy that, but alas, that mouth of yours is a bit rotten, would some chlorine and a scrub daddy do the trick?" The man's face held no defining emotion that represented what he was saying to you.

"You... YOU--"

"I suggest you quit the smack talk, unless you prefer to continue and be thrown out of my establishment; can't make quality meat without an obedient animal, am I right?" Even if his facial expression didn't change, you could tell that his words were looking to strangle you if you refused to take heed to them.

"Ah, right, before I leave, I have assigned you as an acrobatics trainee; our last acrobat died of... unforseen events." He paused before chuckling and waltzing out of sight. Making you alone in the cell once more.

You just plopped right on the ground in realization. This was your life now. Just a minute ago you got sold to some freak by your idiotic parents, and now, you were going to be one of the acrobatics in a circus that you didn't even know the name of? You could only pity yourself.

It had been a few weeks since you came here, and all you had been doing was practicing acrobatics with the help of the others. Furthermore, since that unfaithful day when you were sold, it was your decision to just stop talking altogether. If no one was hearing your voice, then what was the point?

"Ah, [Y/N]... have you finished up on your practice for today?" A young woman came over to you. It was Ellen, one of the acrobatics that taught you all the basics, from balancing on a beam to how to quickly put on different costumes in between performances.

You acknowledged her for her determination, even after entering into the circus at a young age. Though, what you wish you had was her ability to not complain and take things as they were. Alas, that was something Ellen had shown you that you hadn't observed from a person in ages; endurance.

You gave her a small smile and nodded. She brightened up before motioning you to come over to the schedule, which displayed all the events that were to partake following each day. You noticed that there was no last month performance mentioned on the chart.

Last month's performances were big and grand compared to the regular performances, which had more repetitive and basic performances. With all that in mind, you still couldn't participate in them because you were new, but soon you would participate within the next month or so.

"Ah, the other ringmaster has yet to meet you, by the way. He's been gone for a while now. He's the one who can conduct the monthly performances..." Ellen slowly stopped talking, mentally debating with herself with something before refraining on speaking as her grim face turned into one of happiness.

"Ah, right, it's almost time for the show to start, so I need to go this time. You are responsible for ensuring that the children are safe when they are watching the show." Right, you almost forgot about the children that were here. They were either sold to here or just given to the circus. They either had deformities or just had albinism. In total, there were 8 children that you needed to watch over.

You nodded once more and left to change out of the plain acrobatic suit that you wore for practice. Obviously, you had some different coloured ones, but those were strictly for performances.

Once you stepped into the changing room, you deflated and rubbed your face, which was buring from trying to hold back your tears. You sat there as streaks of tears slid down your face.

It was hard for you to just be happy about the situation. It was a struggle to just even have a neutral look on your face, to seem unbothered, to seem as if you were taking the situation well. The reason you gave for becoming selectively mute was only half of the reason. It was partially because almost every day your throat would tighten up from the never ending fear of living like this.

There were nice people, of course, but was it enough for you to accept this situation? The pain of realizing over and over again that your family betrayed you for such a little amount was painful. Even if they mistreated you, you only want to go back to the times when everything was much simpler.

You sniffled and checked the time and noticed that 10 minutes had passed. That was enough crying time for today because you weren't going to get beaten for not taking care of the children this time. Babysitting children comes first, money is second, and depression is last. That crazy psycho of a manager won't let anything slide under the rug, so you had to be on your tippie toes.

There were a bunch of mini humans wandering about, but not out of your sight, of course. You sat on a wooden bench backstage amongst the junk pile, where all sorts of thrown out props and costumes entangled themselves into one giant monster-like concoction. It was enough to keep the children entertained, and so you had a portion of your job cut out for you.

One of the 8 children was a little, baby boy, the youngest of the batch; he snuggled into your chest, feeling the warmth radiating from you.

"Ah, are you babysitting?" A man, with long hair spoke up from beside you. You hadn't noticed when he sat down. You shook your head in reply, raising an intrigued response from the man.

"Not quite a speaker, are you? I see. You must be [Y/n], then. I am Mathew Alabaster, one of the ringmasters in this lovely establishment." You raised a brow at the 'lovely establishment' part, but Mathew didn't mind, well, more like he didn't have the mind to notice.

You hadn't seen him before, and it seemed as though he shared resemblance with that of the ringmaster you met on your first day in the cell.

"Right, so how well are you fitting into your role? I assume it's daunting because you get to be hung high in the air with nothing but your skills and aura whilst the floor's comfort lulls and beckons you to just... drop." The man smiled at you, but for an odd reason; he had an off-putting look in his eyes...

Pt 1 cus I ain't writing allat rn. Also I'm so so super duper sorry for not posting in decades! (Esp @emptybrain01, it was only recently i saw your comments! Im so so sorry 💀💀💀💀) Obviously I've been on tumblr for a short period of time, but like, I was just lazy on top of me having no time on the weekend because I'm making a cosplay and I have to study during the week, along with upcoming tests and a big exam next year. Basically my hobbies take up more time than I have.

So maybe next year ill disappear for a while cos i hv a shit ton of stuff to do.

But I'll take requests instead of just thinking about a character and making a smol story for them.

Also once more, thank you for following me and getting to 770+ followers (its now 831) even if i don't post much. I would also like to thank my friend Syren, who has access to my account and sees all my shit 💀, for editing this work!

Thank you all!

[rnelodyy]

Hi, I’ve been seeing a lot of arguments being thrown around about why Ludinus’s plan is terrible, and I think it’d be useful to put them all in a list to demonstrate why, even if you agree with his philosophy, the idea of unleashing Predathos is such a horrible travesty.

Problem 1: There’s no guarantee that Predathos won’t eat mortals as well.

Ludinus seems convinced that mortals, despite being divine creations with tiny bits of divine essence in them, are too small for Predathos to care about. The source for this appears to be Predathos itself, which is kind of a massive conflict of interest. If you were trapped and starving for thousands of years, and this tasty little chicken nugget came up to you and said “Hey I’ll let you out if you eat these evil guys for me, just dont eat me or my people okay?”, would you tell him no? And if/when you do get out, would you keep that promise?

Speaking of which, while it is true that the Gods are its primary prey, they are currently not on Exandria. The Betrayers are locked away in their various prisons, and the Primes are behind the Divine Gate. Since its prison is made of the same stuff, it’s safe to assume that Predathos can’t just kick that shit down, so while it’s working on that, it may as well help itself to some appetizers in the meantime. 

Problem 2: Even if Predathos doesn’t eat mortals, its presence might severely negatively affect Exandria in other ways.

We know that Ludinus’s first attempt to communicate with Predathos from Exandria resulted in the destruction of Molaesmyr and the creation of the nightmare landscape that is the Savalirwood, as well as causing an earthquake that destroyed all surface-dwelling civilizations on Ruidus. We can pretty safely assume that was not intentional on Ludinus’s part, so this was either an accident or Predathos showing its hand a little too early. Either way, if an attempt at communication apparently blasted so many negative vibes across that forest that it remains an irradiated hellscape to this day, how the hell do you think unleashing Predathos itself is gonna go? 

Also, its influence on mortals is pretty evident. The Accord mentioned that multiple of their Ruidusborn members ran off towards the Bloody Bridge out of nowhere, and higher ranking Reilorans can just take over the bodies and minds of random people. If that’s the level of influence it has while trapped, there’s no telling what it could do to people (Ruidusborn especially) if it were released.

We also know from Downfall that its invasion of Tengar was akin to a black hole suddenly appearing in the middle of a town square. The Eternal Palace wasn’t just destroyed, it was completely un-made. We don’t know what the difference will be between Predathos in an infinite extradimensional paradise vs Predathos on Exandria, but it will likely be pretty fucking bad. (tho unfortunately this is information that the characters are not aware of).

Problem 3: Eating the Gods is not instant, and that fight could result in a second Calamity.

While it’s not as likely that the battle between the Gods and Predathos will take place on Exandria, the Gods will likely recruit their mortal followers to fight Predathos before it can break down the Divine Gate. On top of this, if Predathos does manage to bust down the Gate, some gods straight up can’t leave Exandria without dying (the Wildmother being the biggest example), and may flee towards Exandria rather than away. 

On top of this, even if busting open the Divine Gate goes smoothly, the Betrayers are scattered and imprisoned separately. Predathos is gonna have to put in some work to get them out, which could do severe damage to Exandria in the process. And idk about you, but I think the God-eater is gonna care about collateral damage about as much as a bear cares about the damage it’s dealing to the trash can it’s tearing open. 

Problem 4: Removing the Pantheon might destroy or seriously fuck up Exandria.

Not in the sense that the planet will explode if they’re gone; like many people have said, life on Exandria was there before them and will exist after them. I mean in the sense that the Pantheon shaped the world as we know it today and have existed within it the entire time, we have no framework of knowing what will happen if they leave.

Multiple people on here have cited “Wolves in Yellowstone” to describe this scenario (including in this banger fanfic which has nothing to do with my point I just really wanted to shout it out), meaning ecosystems will change very drastically and negatively if one aspect of it is suddenly removed, like what happened when wolves were hunted to extinction in Yellowstone park. Removing the Gods from the Exandrian ecosystem will have consequences, both short term and long term, that are impossible to predict. How will death even work without the Matron there to shepherd souls? Will storms cease when the Stormlord and the Wildmother are gone or will they grow out of control? What threats will society face if the Lawbearer isn’t there? 

Ludinus pretends like the Gods siphon worship from their followers and add nothing else but I just don't believe him when he says that; the Gods are as much as a part of the world as mortals are, and if they are removed it will reshape Exandria as a whole in a way that will be catastrophic at best, incompatible with mortal life as it exists now at worst.

Problem 5: Removing the Pantheon will have horrible consequences for society.

Even if you can remove the Gods without fucking up the ecosystem beyond repair, society as a whole will be dealt a massive blow when the Gods disappear. 

First off, every previously religious person is now grappling with a crisis of faith on par with what would happen if Christians suddenly saw the corpse of God drop from the sky. This will likely result in societal instability or even collapse – Exandria will see worldwide riots and civil wars, governments will crack down harder on dissenters, cults will start to pop up all over the place as people desperately try to find meaning in other places, and I would not be surprised if this will be the death knell for Vasselheim. It will take years, maybe even decades, for people to settle into some form of new normal.

Second, while some other classes also have healing spells, the vast majority of dedicated magical healers are clerics, and if you have an injury or curse or disease that needs acute healing, you go to a temple. All clerics losing their powers simultaneously would be like all doctors suddenly forgetting how to practice medicine. Epidemics would erupt from every major city, a lot of people would die of illnesses or wounds that would otherwise be completely treatable, and sheer desperation might drive people into doing some pretty terrible things to any non-cleric healers like druids or bards. 

Third, every religious organization losing all power and relevance would leave worldwide power vacuums for any tyrant or despot to fill. Organizations like the Cobalt Soul (who are followers of Ioun but don’t put a lot of focus on worship) would probably survive, but any church or temple without an additional incentive to keep people in would instantly be fucked.

Fourth, there are a LOT of divine seals across the world keeping nasty shit at bay. Whether those seals will break instantly or erode over time is debatable, but either way, people can look forward to being flooded by fiends, aberrations, mythical monsters, and all sorts of horrible environmental dangers. Plus, y’know, the Weavemind’s plan to invade and colonize Exandria. 

Problem 6: The Pantheon leaving would result in the mother of all power vacuums.

We know it’s possible to ascend to godhood without replacing an existing god, because something like that happened very recently. Vecna was only defeated with the help of the Gods, and could only take over a divine domain that wasn’t already claimed; just imagine how bad it would have been if he’d not only encountered no resistance from the Gods, but could just take every divine domain and become the One True God of Exandria. 

Last episode (C3E102), Ashton made a comment that it’s not the king that’s the problem, it’s the throne. However, Ludinus’s plan doesn’t get rid of the throne at all, it just leaves it vacant, and while he may not have ambitions towards godhood, there are a lot of people out there who would love a slice of that pie. In the next few centuries, somebody is going to ascend to godhood and fill the power vacuum left by the Pantheon, and there’s exactly zero guarantee that they’ll be nice about it. Did you like the Gods messing with mortals from behind the Divine Gate? How about a newly crowned One True God stomping all over your city because someone made a nasty comment about them?

Anyway thats why Ludinus’s plan is bad and he should feel bad ok bye <3