#and the one where they're forehead to forehead's living rent free in my head for 23 hours now

[awxcoffeexno]

unholy

mean!loganhowlett x mutant!reader one shot

fic masterlist

summary: you work at a shady dance club that offers other services. logan is a regular but this time he decides to implement his claws.

content warnings: very very VERY 18+. MDNI. claw worship and knife play!! mentions of blood and cutting. logan is very very mean and he likes hurting reader because he knows she can take it. reader is a mutant and a sex worker. please proceed only at your own risk, this is pure degeneracy and very very nsfw. also, sex, piv, mild slapping, lots of sucking and mention of bruises (only from the sex). vaguely set in the 70's after stryker's experiment (mostly only in my head because origins logan lives in my head rent free). also cameo from blue from sucker punch as a shout-out to baby me.

word count: 4k. longest from me.

a/n: since my utterly disgusting thoughts rubbed off on a lot of other people and the last claw worship fic was quite well received, i went ahead and wrote an nsfw version. this is pure filth and his fckin claws will never not make me feel some typa way. i will not apologise.

it's sweltering in the club, the music pounding, and the air filled with rising smoke from the hand-rolled cigarettes in the patrons' ashtrays. your mind is buzzing from the overstimulation and your muscles ache from the dancing, begging for a rest.

you love every last bit of it.

a man reaches up to where you're standing and tucks ten dollars into the string of your thong. you smile at him flirtatiously and sway down onto your haunches so you can lean in and thank him properly.

you've been in the trade long enough to know that the better you thank them, the more they keep coming back for. you're in the business of sales, really; conversions are everything. this business is fast business—there's the wall street boys and the dance girls, the two most proficient sales people in the world.

the man grins at your sultry voice, rewarding you with another ten dollars and a hot kiss to your neck. this isn't a no-touch club and that might be your favourite thing about working here. men are more likely to behave when they're allowed to touch rather than when they think they're rebelling by touching.

your hair, damp from sweat, sticks to your forehead and it almost makes you sad thinking about how nicely you'd done it earlier in the night. real big and fluffy, just like blue likes it.

and just as you think about him, he appears at your pole. he runs a hand up your sticky calf to catch your attention and you slide down, knowing from his expression instantly that there's more work to do.

tina quickly takes your place on the pole and you thank her with a kiss to the cheek and five dollars from your string. it's simple courtesy, and an unwritten club rule. if you're leaving your post for higher paying activities, you thank the other girl who is covering for you with money.

"hey, babydoll," blue says in your ear over the music, sliding a hand around your bare waist. "big ol' guy's here for you. the one with the…" blue rubs his cheeks, "fluff."

"logan," you say, more to yourself than blue, and he tips your chin to him.

"ask for 200, and only let him bring you down to 180. you gotta make up the difference for last week, sugar."

200 is asking for a lot for the hour. your going rate is a hundred and that's only because you're one of blue's favourite girls and he brings you his best clients. but logan's been a regular for the better part of six months now and blue knows he can hustle him for at least 180. besides, you were sick all week last week and blue warned you he'd make you pay.

so you lean in and give him a kiss, promising him the money.

"attagirl," he smirks, tugging your mouth open with a thumb and slipping a pill in.

you smile at him gratefully and start up the stairs, the roar of the music fading into a hum. quickly spitting the pill out into your hand, you tuck it into your bra. you'll flush it down the toilet when you get to your room. blue says the pills make it easier but you hate how groggy they make you feel. in any case, you like your sessions with logan.

he's good for you, keeps you from floating off into the sky. you're fairly certain there's an old roman story about flying a little too high. or was it greek?

slipping into your little red room, you quickly wash up and change into a silk robe that you know will not last the night. not around logan. but blue keeps a steady supply of them coming so long as you bring him good money which you do.

once you've refreshed your make up and puffed on a cigarette, you press the buzzer, letting the boys downstairs know to send logan up.

his broad shoulders fill your doorframe under a minute, the warmth of his presence sending a shiver down your sweaty body. he's clad in all black formal wear that rather reminds you of a funeral.

"whiskey?" you offer, watching him sit down on the plush leather chair that most others don't even bother to notice.

logan likes it slow, taking his time to unwind and ease up before he takes his stress out on you. it's rather nice, your usual routine.

however, when he grunts a yes and you start pouring his whiskey, you notice that something's off about him today. his eyes are a little droopy when they're usually so alert. his skin paler than the usual golden tan he sports.

something's wrong and you don't like the feeling that settles in your gut at that.

you take the whiskey over to him and climb into his lap, offering him the glass.

"what happened?" you ask, your voice betraying the concern you should probably never feel for any client.

he looks at you and snarls quietly, "poison arrow."

fuck.

logan's not particularly well beloved by the kind of gentry that a place like this attracts or the people he crosses paths with regularly. this much he's told you before and he's nothing if not honest.

but a poison arrow?

fuck.

your recent knack for eloquence aside, you ask quietly, "and… are you okay?"

"m'fine. fucked my healing though," he grumbles, pulling the collar of his flannel to the side, showing you the ugly gash that stretches from his shoulder, disappearing into his shirt.

you and logan share that power, a gift really. accelerated healing. it's come in handy plenty to you and you're only a dance girl. you cannot begin to imagine how a man like him will survive without it.

he sees your cringing expression and barks out a single-syllable laugh. the sound breaks you out of your thoughts and you look at him, startled.

"look at your face, pretty girl. told'ya m'fine. it's getting better already," he says and his voice, though tinted with his usual casual condescension, is gentler than you've ever heard him. he's… reassuring… you? you think??

"now, c'mere," he downs the whiskey and uses both hands to pull you closer by the thighs.

and then his mouth is at your neck, and there's the logan you know. rough and uncaring, cruel because he knows your body can take it. knows you can take what he can never do to anyone else.

he savours the salt on your skin, running his large paws down your arms tucking your wrists behind your back. he likes you detained, pliant and ripe for the taking. his throaty groan on your skin in the dip of your now exposed collar bone makes the need curl in your core.

real need, not the kind that you summon with other clients. need that is amplified when he squeezes your wrists tighter together to make you quit squirming.

"lo–"

"shut up." he commands, licking and sucking down your neck and shoulder, and that's that. you snap your mouth shut immediately.

logan slips your robe off both your shoulders with his free hand and his teeth sink into the flesh in the nape of your neck hard enough to draw blood, making you cry out his name. he's exhausted and healing too slowly and he needs to use you as his stress ball and fuck you until he feels better.

you want to cry out, you want to beg him until he gives you what you need but you know better than to do that with him. your hips however rut into him, making him yank you back and glare at you.

"and who let you do that, princess?" he says so calmly, voice oceans deep and velvety smooth, that you don't realise for a second that it was a question. a rhetorical one.

you blush and it makes his lip curl in a patronising smile.

"oh, i'll give you what you need alright. all you gotta do is ask, sugar."

you want to remind him that he was the one that told you to shut up but that won't end well, so you oblige.

"logan, please…" you whisper, hands trying to readjust in his grip, grasping for a more comfortable position. "please let me have you."

"that just won't do. need me to help you put together full sentences too?" he grumbles, readjusting because he's clearly in pain. "say it like you want it. say you want my fat cock to fill your needy little pussy. say you want her to feel good."

logan's mouth is disgusting. the words aren't too different from what the other men that come to your room spout but on his tongue they sound particularly dirty. and apparently you like dirty because god fucking dammit… his words and his voice and his scent and his everything make your need for him desperately worse.

"please, please, just need your fat cock to fill my pussy, to stretch her out, logan." you grovel. "need my pussy to feel good, please."

"jesus fuck, princess. got quite the mouth on you." he smirks as if he wasn't the one to draw those words from your lips. "let's put it to good use."

he isn't going to let you have his cock in you to quench that need that easy. he always, always makes you work for it.

he juts his chin out, gesturing to you to get on the floor and you slip between his legs, looking up at him reverently.

you like him in your mouth anyway. you like the way he uses you just hard enough to make you cry but never hard enough to make you feel like you're drowning–unlike some people who come here, the ones that make you bury your face in blue's chest later as he lectures you about needing to toughen up.

but when he reaches our for you, his hand comes into your focus and it makes you gasp softly. the space between his knuckles, home to his claws, is bared open, dirty and covered in blood. the claws cut him open every time but heals immediately so it's never mattered before. you take his giant hand with both of yours to examine the wounds but he yanks it away. the back of his hand comes down on your right cheek in a sharp, firm slap.

"focus," he growls and you rub your cheek, eyebrows setting into a frown.

your tone is firmer than it is around him when you speak. "show it to me, logan."

he shifts in his seat, gauging you. he isn't used to hearing any form of authority in your voice. nor is he used to being taken care of. he cracks his neck, shaking it off and then leans forward.

"you wanna see?" he says, voice so low it makes your toes curl.

you swallow thickly and nod, chewing on the inside of your lip.

"then you're going to have to pay, princess."

your tummy jumps as he puts his fist in front of you. you're about to reach over to grab his hand again, leaning in close to take a better look, but out come his claws making you shuffle back in alarm. they stop at your lips, drawing a hitched breath from you.

"open your mouth, angel. it'll hurt too much if i push them in myself."

the old man has lost it.

"lo–" you start to protest but he's retracted all but his middle claw with a loud snikt, and is pushing the flat of the remaining one into your mouth.

the cold adamantium of logan’s claw presses against your tongue, the sharp edge demanding obedience. you part your lips further slowly, letting the flat of the blade slide deeper inside, grazing your tongue. the metallic taste is sharp, a reminder of the danger you’re playing with.

logan’s gaze never leaves yours, dark and unyielding. there’s no softness in his eyes, no hint of gentleness. this isn’t about comfort or care—this is about control, about reminding you who’s in charge. his other hand grips your jaw, fingers digging into your skin just hard enough to bruise, forcing you to keep your mouth open.

“good girl,” he mutters, the praise laced with a mocking edge that makes your stomach twist. his tone is condescending, amused by how easily you submit to him.

he begins to draw the claw out, then slides it back in, a slow and deliberate rhythm that forces you to focus on the sensation—the cool metal, the danger of the sharp blade so close to your skin. your breath hitches, a mix of fear and something darker curling in your gut.

“look at ya, angel,” logan sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. “so eager to worship something that could slice you open without a second thought.”

it’s as if he knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you crave his approval despite the cruelty in his touch.

his grip on your jaw tightens as he tilts your head back further, forcing you to take the claw deeper into your mouth. “don’t bite down,” he warns, the threat clear in his tone and you realise… he can feel it. he can feel your mouth on his claw and it's stoking the fire in him.

you nod as best as you can in response to his words, your eyes locked on his, wide and pleading. the pain from his grip mingles with the strange pleasure of submission, and it’s almost unbearable. you feel like you're on fire. logan watches you struggle, a twisted smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your discomfort.

“you like this, don't cha?” he taunts, pulling the claw out just enough to let you breathe. “you like being reminded of what i could do to you if i wanted. y'like knowing that i’m the one who decides how far this goes.”

he’s right, of course. you hate how much you like it, how the power he holds over you only intensifies the burning need in your belly. it’s humiliating and exhilarating all at once, and logan's reading you like an open book.

“now, let’s see if you’re really worth the trouble,” he growls, sliding the claw out entirely, leaving your mouth empty and aching. he leans back in his chair, holding his hand out in front of you, the metal gleaming under the dim light as the other claws come out too. “kiss them. show me how much you want it.”

your heart pounds as you lean in, pressing your lips to the cool metal with reverence. the taste of them lingers on your tongue, and the weight of his gaze is almost suffocating. but you do as you’re told, kissing the blades as if they're something sacred, something you’re desperate to prove your devotion to.

logan’s smirk widens as he watches you. “that’s it, princess. make it worth my while. maybe then i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

the claw lingers against your lips and you tilt your head slightly, pressing a softer, more deliberate kiss to the adamantium, tasting the faint tang of blood and iron bloom on your lips. the edge is sharp against your skin and you aren't surprised you've managed to cut yourself. but your body takes care of you and the wound is gone before you even lick the blood away.

your tongue flicks out, tentative at first, tracing the length of the blade. you can’t stop yourself, your need to please him overpowering every other instinct. logan’s eyes narrow as he watches you, the barest hint of approval hidden beneath the hardness of his gaze.

“that’s more like it,” he murmurs, his voice quiet… tired. “show me how much you love it. show me how much you’re willing to do to keep me happy.”

you press your tongue flat against the claw, dragging it slowly along the length, tasting the cold metal. you wrap your lips around his claw and carefully start sucking the way you would his cock, making him groan your name. you cut yourself over and over as you suck but it bothers neither of you, the pain translating directly into the wetness between your legs.

“attagirl,” logan growls.

“thank you, logan,” you whisper against the claw, your voice trembling with need. “thank you for this.”

a dark chuckle rumbles from deep in his chest. “thank me when you’ve earned it,” he replies, pulling the claw away just slightly, taunting you with its absence. your lips chase after it, a whimper escaping as you realize how much you're genuinely, truly enjoying this.

“please,” you murmur, your voice shaking. “please, logan, let me have you. let me take care of you.”

he raises an eyebrow, the cold amusement in his eyes never wavering. “take care'a me? is that what you think this is?” he presses the claw back against your lips, harder this time, making sure you feel the point against your skin. “you’re here to serve me, princess. and you’ll do it how i want, not how you think i need.”

a shudder runs through you at his words, the sharp edge digging just enough to leave a thin line of red along your lower lip. your eyes sting with tears, but you don’t dare pull away. instead, you lean into it, pressing your lips against the claw in a silent plea for mercy, for something more.

logan’s smirk deepens, his other hand coming to rest on the back of your head, pushing you forward just enough that the point of his claw cuts into your lip again. you gasp at the sting, but the sound is muffled as he presses down harder, forcing your mouth to open.

logan watches you, his expression unreadable, but his grip on the back of your head tightens, holding you in place as you continue to worship the deadly weapon in your mouth. “want to take care'a me?” he mocks, his voice rough and dark. “you think that's what i need?”

you nod as best you can with the claw in your mouth, your eyes pleading with him.

but logan isn’t done with you yet. he pulls the claw from your mouth, leaving your lips wet with a mix of blood and saliva. you gasp, trying to catch your breath, but before you can say anything, he shoves the claw against your chest, just above your heart, the point pressing into your skin.

“thank me,” he growls, his voice a low snarl. “and mean it.”

“thank you, logan,” you whisper, your voice cracking with desperation. “thank you for your claws.”

the cruel twist of his smile is all the reward you get, but it’s enough. he drags the claw down, slicing through the thin fabric of your robe, leaving a trail of red in its wake. you flinch, but you don’t pull away, your body trembling as you try to keep still under his touch.

"been good, babygirl." he relents finally, watching as your wound heals. "c'mere."

he hauls you into his lap with ease, despite his injuries. you make quick work of his buttons and throw his black shirt open. your eyes snap up to his and then back to his body.

he's covered in bullet holes. five that you can count anyway. your hands reach for them but he grabs your wrist.

"m'fine. they'll heal. two already have."

oh.

so you plant your mouth on his, kissing him deep, savouring the tobacco and musk of his breath. he tugs you closer, hooking a finger into your panties and dragging them down your smooth legs. it makes your toes curl.

the sticky mess between your legs leaves a dark patch on his trousers as he goes back to sucking soft bruises into your neck.

and then you hear his claws before you feel them, the cold metal cutting through what's left of your robe like butter, pressing into the soft skin over your scapula. you brace yourself, nails sinking into his broad shoulders and he cuts the claws in, slicing you open.

"logan, please!" you cry out but the pain is only momentary, delicious and burning hot, before your skin stitches itself back up like clockwork.

"fuck… me," he gasps and you've never heard him so affected.

he undoes his belt with a practiced hand and slides it off, tossing it off to the side and tugging his pants down. quickly, you position yourself over him, sitting down with your head rolled back, sheathing him with your warm, wet walls. he's splitting you open, stretching you the way you begged earlier.

and then he resumes cutting, slicing your back open as you move up and down on his cock. you bury your face in his neck, hiding your tears of pain and pleasure in his neck as he undoes you.

he grabs your jaw when he notices you start to lose yourself.

"no, you pay attention, bub." he snarls in your ear, kissing you roughly. pulling away when your eyes are wide open again, he slips a finger into your mouth.

the salt and blood on his skin makes your mouth water and this is beyond fucked up but you regret nothing. you suck diligently and he reaches down and wraps his mouth around your nipple, making you suck a sharp breath in. you feel his teeth sink in and it sends a shiver down your spine.

your hands in his hair, you tug sharply, making him growl and switch to your other nipple.

"logan…" you whine around his finger, thighs aching from the effort of riding him through it all.

he grunts and takes his hand away from your mouth. both hands on your waist, he starts to fuck you like a fucking fleshlight, moving you up and down on him like you weigh nothing.

you hear a snikt and a claw comes up to your face, running down the side of your cheek and making you mewl in pleasure.

you only just realise how much logan's wound you up in the hour that he's been in your room. you're hurtling towards the edge and he's barely been in you for a few minutes.

but you've wound him up too, the nerves in his body alight with pleasure.

"fuck, doll," he groans in your ear, retracting his claws and steading you with his hands again. "not going to last long tonight."

fuck. blue is going to kill you for letting Logan go so quickly.

yet you cannot seem to care.

you mewl his name and pick up speed at that, panting and gasping, and aching to please. he feels the telltale sign of your edge in the quivering of your walls and yanks you down on himself, pushing you over the cliff.

it's like fireworks and butterflies and pure fucking ecstasy.

"been a good fucking filthy girl," he whispers in your ear, knowing it'll make you react around his cock. "lettin' me cut'ya open like that."

you press your damp brow against his shoulder, riding your high weakly but your pussy does enough to bring him to his climax as well. he grunts and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight down in his lap, filling you warm and deep.

he pants softly in your ear and you look at him with a giddy smile. you reach for his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles and…

his hand is healed.

and… so is his other one.

you pull back to check the rest of him and… they're all gone. all of the bullet holes.

a sly smile spreads across your lips and you look at him with satisfaction dancing in your eyes.

"took care of you after all."

he lets out a surprised laugh, eyes softening with something you haven't seen in him before. he pulls you back into his embrace, and this softness is new. nice, but new.

"yes you did, princess."

i need to be committed and lobotomised with logan's claws. blue would love that.

love, d <3

taglist: @techwrecker, @saltwaterburns, @lilaccmilk, @clevah-girlboss

divider: @rookthornesartistry

[clearheartsgreyflowerss]

Hi! Could I have some Arlecchino x fem reader fluff? Maybe going on a date together?

I am also currently obsessed with her, she’s just so askdskejdhdbdbdn >///<

Thank you!

YES THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST YOU JUST MADE MY DAY :D

Also that's literally so real she's taken over all my thoughts and she lives in my head absolutely rent free

A date with Mon ange - Arlecchino x fem!reader

This is NOT proofread if you see any grammar mistakes no you didn't

"My dear, with all due respect, I love your cookies but you burnt the hell out of them."

To say today was a disaster was an understatement, you didn't wake up to your alarm clock, which meant you missed the morning market where you often got some of Alrecchino's and Lynette's favorite treats. Not only that, but just an hour later, freminet came home with a large gash on his leg, which he had gotten when trying to maneuver through a shipwreck out at sea. Then, some of the children had roped you into playing games with them, and promptly forgot you had cookies in the oven.

So, it's safe to say Arlecchino's remark ended with you being even madder than before, even if you knew she was just making an observation.

"well if they're so burnt, bake them yourself next time!" You quickly stomped out of the room, hanging up your apron as you walked past the door. You quickly walked up the stairs and down the hall to your room, and slammed the door behind. You sat down at the small desk where you kept all of your stationary and makeup, immediately looking around for anything that couldn't be broken (or at least something not of high importance). Luckily, there was a small journal in the drawer, and you decided it would be better to journal then take your anger out on some poor object. After about 3 pages were filled, the sound of the door startled you a little, yet you kept writing in journal. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, and a kiss was planted on top of your head. Neither of you chose to speak, you just kept writing anything and everything, and she watched.

"would you like to go out to dinner tonight mon ange? I'm sure the maids can handle the children for tonight."

She finally broke the silence, and you put the pen and paper down. A small smile came across your face, as you finally looked up to see her face. While she often kept the neutral looking expression, you could see the difference in her eyes, a look of sadness from upsetting you was clear.

"that sounds lovely Alrecchino, where do you want to go?"

"you choose, we can go anywhere in Fontaine, don't worry about the cost." You were quick to open your mouth about not wanting to overspend, but she placed a kiss to your forehead, making your protests stop.

"you've had a bad day, you deserve whatever your heart desires [Name]." How she knew you had a bad day was above you, though you presumed she had guessed just from the way you lashed out.

"well then, I suppose I could go for some Tripes du Port right about now" your words brought a small smile to her face, and she placed one last small kiss on your head, before standing up.

"To the hotel debord it is then."

The hotel was never short of amazing, all the decorations so elegant, yet so simple at the same time. The two of you sat down in a corner of the restaurant, a candle in the center illuminating both your menus.

"What are you going to get Arle? You always seem to change it up when we come here." She didn't look up from her menu as you spoke, instead she focused on even more.

"I suppose I'll get cassoulet, I don't think I've tried it here yet." She set her menu down and gave you another small smile, one she often didn't flash in public, but she was sure no one was looking.

"oh and darling, you look great in that outfit, you should wear it more often." She took your hand and rubbed your hand reassuringly, her words were definitely ones you needed to hear.

"I'm glad you think so Arle, I bought it recently and haven't had any chances to wear it. I thought tonight would be a nice night to show it off." She took note of how you messed with the hem of the fabric, a tell tale sign you were flattered by her compliments.

The waitress walked over with 2 glasses of wine, and smiled at both of you as she pulled out a paper and pen

"what can I get you two tonight? If you're still not sure, I can come back in a few minutes." You smiled and nodded as both her and Arlecchino looked at you, it looks like you would be ordering first.

"I'll have the Tripes du Port please, oh, and a slice of your blueberry pie." You flash her another smile as you hand her the menu, and look over to Arle as she orders

"I'll have the cassoulet, please and thank you." The waitress nods as she finishes writing, and takes Arlecchino's menu.

"merci, I'll be back with those as soon as they're done!" The waitress gives one last smile before she walks off, and it's just you and Arlecchino again. She picks up her wine glass and takes a sip, before looking at you with expectancy.

"well drink up dear, you deserve it."

All of that food and wine practically made you forget about all of your problems from the day. Well, Arlecchino was the real reason, but having something to talk over definitely was helping. You couldn't help but smile and laugh at all of her stories, telling your own in return. You two were at the register, Arlecchino paying for your meals as you kept one hand tightly around hers.

"merci beaucoup! s'il vous plaît, revenez bientôt!"

(thank you very much! Please come again soon!)

Both you and Arlecchino say thank you as you walk out the doors, the cool Fontaine air hitting you the second you leave.

"thank you for tonight Arle, you don't know how much I appreciate it." You give her a soft smile, which melts her heart a little more each time she sees it.

"it's no problem dear, you had quite the interesting day" she chuckled, and ran her thumb across the back of your hand, still seemingly trying to comfort you. You laughed along with her, though the both of you went quiet just after; Slowly taking king in the beauty of Fontaine on the walk back to the house.

The two of you made it back just fine, and you walked home to a entrance that seemed cleaner than before. Alrecchino could already see the panic setting into your face, and she just sighed and placed a kiss to your cheek.

"I promise I gave the maids permission to clean without you here, and I made sure they did it to your tastes my dear. Is that all you're worried about?" You seemed to think for a moment, before quickly realizing the many responsibilities you didn't attend to today.

"oh my God I forgot to clean Lyney and Lynettes stage outfits! And I never went back to help the younger children with their homework and-" Arlecchino took off your coat as you rambled on, taking both yours and hers over to the coat rack while half listening to you. She came back and wrapped her hands around your waist, and nestled her face into the crook of your neck, placing a few light kisses against it.

"[name], did you write this all down in your journal earlier?"

"yes well-" you finally snapped out of your thoughts, and despite not being able to see it, you could sense the grin on her face.

"...you gave that list to the maids didn't you."

"if it makes you feel better, I rewrote it and handed that list to the maids, I left out the things you said about me, after all, some things are better kept secret, Mon ange." you groaned at her teasing words, yet ultimately thanked her for it.

"then I guess I owe you a big thanks Arle, you're amazing." You pressed your lips to hers, giving her yet another small smile.

"how about you show me how thankful you are right now and come lay down with me." Her hands unwrapped from around your waist, and she moved to take your hand and lead you towards the stairs. You happily followed behind her, curious to see just what she had in store for you.

I DONT KNOW HOW TO FINISH THIS IM GOING TO CRY BUT (HOPEFULLY) THERE WILL BE A PART 2

anyway I'm so so so sorry this took me so long, turns out musical + con preparations + school don't make for a great writing time. Thank you 🪼 anon for waiting, I'm sorry if you think this is shit it kind of is (⁠･ั⁠ω⁠･ั⁠)

Daily click to help those in Palestine

[beanghostprincess]

Silly goofy wild and funky idea:

Transman Crocodile who transitioned via Ivankov.

Cross Guild events and Cross Guild Poly where Buggy finally gets the nerve to come out to her two lieutenants and also boyfriends. Mihawk just blinks like "yes? Your Haki is distinctly feminine, so this makes perfect sense. Oh, dear why are you crying, stop that-" meanwhile Crocodile has to bite back every single we traded genders joke and instead just shrugs, going "I quite literally could not be paid to give a fuck. You know I'm bisexual, this changes little, Clown."

Croc does off hand offer to hook Buggy up with Iva if that's smth she's interested in, tho.

Meanwhile Sanji has come out to the Strawhats as a transwoman as well, and the reactions are much more dramatic but no less supportive - if anything, some may be too supportive /hj ((Franky calls her queen and sis and Hawt Mama, Chopper already began working on ways to synthesize estrogen Just In Case, Luffy could not be made to give a single fuck, Ussop is swooning, Zoro informs her that this changes nothing and he'll still kick her ass, Robin offers her congratulations, Nami is already mathing out adding another bed in the girls' room or making a room JUST for Sanji and Ussop to share, Brooke waits 0.006783259 seconds before asking to see undies, just everyone being supportive and stupid))

This leads to Ivankov getting two separate contacts for their services, and so they arrange to meet at a small-ish island to help both, two birds, one stone :)).

Both crews go full Spiderman meme when they come across each other, and Iva handles it with all the gentility of a bull in a china shop, whisking both ladies away while the rest are left just plain gaping and awkwardly avoiding eye contact or completely oblivious to the tension (cough cough LUFFY).

Insert your own silly ideas here, generally.

But when they come back, Mihawk, Crocodile and Ussop are all just absolutely SWOONING for different reasons, full of Respect Woman Juice and I Love My Wife energy, it's adorable and cute and funny.

((Bonus: Luffy calls Buggy auntie without hesitation, and she almost cries even as she punches him over the head))

THIS IS SO CUTE SELJKFNSFLEFNLNDFDLKNSDLK

Okay, so, my thoughts on this. Crocodile having to hold back the 'we traded genders' joke is so damn real and I laughed SO hard. Love him. So true. And transfem Buggy lives in my mind rent free so this is just perfect because I absolutely love her. She's my beloved. She'd be so anxious about it and cry and Mihawk and Crocodile are like-- So done with her because she's acting stupid and dramatic and of course they're going to still want her. And she's crying and they're rolling their eyes and patting her head at the same time. Poor thing. She needs comfort okay??

And,, Transfem Sanji coming out is always so beautiful in my head. She's been battling her gender issues for AGES and now she feels comfortable enough to come out to the crew. She's anxious but she knows she has to do this now or she never will. And it's-- It's so real to me. The way she would explain everything that happened to her back in Momoiro Island and then say that she's actually a girl. And everyone's quiet because they know she's looking at Luffy only right now, expecting an answer from her captain. And Luffy is just like "??? Okay? You're still my cook. So who cares? You seem happier now!" and that is when Sanji starts crying. Because of course she's crying. And of course, Usopp is the one to hug her first because that's his girlfriend and she needs a hug and forehead kisses right now. But they have 0 privacy because Luffy wants hugs too. I mean. Obviously.

Franky is loud af and he's SOBBING while he screams how proud he is of their cook (I've always said Franky feels like a girldad because just look at how he interacts with Nami. And he's sooooooooo loving Sanji right now). Robin would be so so proud too and would say she's happy for her and smile in the sweetest of ways (Robin please adopt me). I think Chopper would also ask a lot of questions before making estrogen, just in case, but then he'd go and try to make it right away. Nami hugs Sanji but the sweet moment doesn't last long because she's already telling Franky her ideas for a bigger, better room for the girls or!!! "Better!!!!!! A room for Sanji and Usopp so we don't have to deal with them!!!!!! But also make the girl's room bigger because I say so!!!!!!". Zoro says he doesn't give a fuck because he will still kick her ass but he's secretly happy that she looks more relaxed and comfortable in her skin. Brook is Brook and he says his Brook thing about panties but I think Sanji would kick him having the best gender affirmation moment of her fucking life. And Jinbe is just the cutest because I think he'd laugh at the chaotically sweet situation and say that strength comes from being happy with yourself and Sanji is the strongest for being so brave and true to herself (he be saying poetic and cute shit like that and he expects me not to absolutely love him. Dad behavior. I am SO sure he would beat the shit out of anybody who misgendered Sanji. But that's what any Strawhat would do, so,,,).

They go see Iva (Iva my beloved) and they're all,, So uncomfortable,, Buggy acts overconfident and says she's perfectly fine and not scared at all of what Iva's going to do to her body (liar. She's scared af and Crocodile and Mihawk know so they keep scaring her even more because it's funny to see their girlfriend crying. Look. The fact that they're soft and dating doesn't mean they're not gonna bully her). And Sanji has smoked like two fucking boxes of cigarettes already despite saying that she doesn't care about it (she has never been more excited in her entire life) and she's holding Usopp's hand so hard she's going to break it at some point. Anyway, Iva is a dramatic bitch and they make Sanji and Buggy come with them to a more private place because they want it to be a surprise for everyone (drama queen. Love them. I would do it too. Trust the process, girls, you're in good hands). So Cross Guild and the Strawhats end up alone and waiting for their girls to come back. And. Yeah. Uncomfortable. Zoro looks at Mihawk at some point and goes:

Zoro: I thought you were gay. Mihawk: I swing both ways. Usopp: Actually, you swing sword- Mihawk: Awful. Shut up. Don't ever speak to me again. Don't even look at my direction, actually. Roronoa, why is your crew like this? Zoro: It was really funny, though. Mihawk: I wish to not partake in this conversation anymore. Everyone just shut up and wait. ............. Luffy: Hey, guys, do you think Sanji's going to have bigger boobs than Zor- Nami: OH MY GOD LUFFY YOU CAN'T SAY THAT Luffy: BUT I'M CURIOUS Zoro: Yeah, she's going to ask for the biggest of boobs only to piss me off because she's annoying like that. Mihawk: Why would you even care about your breast size, Roronoa? Crocodile: Tsk. You care about mine. Usopp: OH MY GOD SJKFNSKDEWKFJNJKSFN

Okay, so Sanji and Buggy eventually come back. Finally. And they were gorgeous before but now they're even more beautiful because they actually look extremely happy with their bodies. I want to describe how I see them but just check @/vongulli's account and see their fem Buggy because she kills me every time and that's the only way I can see fem Buggy now. And Sanji to me looks like @/sibmakesart's fem Sanji. This artist made a nude fem Sanji not long ago and I loved it,, So much,, ANYWAY!!!!!! Getting carried away.. Thinking about women. It's not my fault I'm a lesbian. But they look perfect and they're comfortable and happy. And Sanji's boobs are surprisingly not huge and Zoro makes a comment about that but Sanji is like:

Sanji: WHAT????? YOU ONLY SEE ME AS A BOOB-OBSESSED GIRL OR WHAT? Literally everyone at the same time: Yes. Sanji: Well, for your information- Usopp: She likes thighs more Sanji: Usopp, don't tell them- Iva: And also, my dears, that is not how my power works Zoro: So you did ask for big boobs and you couldn't have them Sanji: I'm going to kill you and wearing heels it's going to hurt even more Usopp: Is it weird that I'm kind of turned on right now? Nami: ...Haha Usopp: Are you okay? Nami: Hey, Usopp, I- Usopp: You can't fuck her Nami: I swear I can't have anything!!! What do you have against lesbians??? Usopp: YOU WANT TO SLEEP WITH MY GIRLFRIEND WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY??? Nami: I dunno, yes??

Crocodile and Mihawk are having... A moment. They will still bully her and they're sure she's going to look extremely pretty crying and whining but right now she deserves to be worshipped because just look at her. Buggy approaches them and she's like "If you laugh I'm going to throw knives at you and then leave Cross Guild and!! And!! And I'm going to be really mad so pleasedon'tlaughireallylikethispleasedon'truinit" and they look at her with the fondest of looks (but gotta be honest, they're so horny right now it's unbearable. Like yes, happy wife happy home happy everything but also happy dick because just look at her). Crocodile is just frowning and genuinely asks "Why would we laugh? You look stunning, dear" and Mihawk follows with "I must say I'm not surprised, since you've always looked beautiful. But you look... More satisfied with yourself." And Buggy has to hold back the tears and that's why she starts saying things like "Pffft. Yeah! I knew I'd be gorgeous like this too! Now I look even flashier!" and y'know, the two men are letting her have her moment because now she looks even better and they can't stop staring at her. So maybe she's right this time when she fakes confidence.

Usopp and Nami need a second to process everything, I think. Also, they both hit Brook at the same time when he's about to ask Sanji the question™. Nami is having a lesbian moment, but of course Sanji realizes and does her Sanji thing like opening her mouth and speaking:

Sanji: Nami-swaaan!!! Do you like how I look now??? Nami, ignoring her and whispering to herself: Disgusting. I hate this. Zoro: At the end of the day it's just curly, huh? Nami: I was thinking with my dick. Zoro: Yeah. Happens. Been there.

So, Usopp and Sanji finally get their moment together because at least the Strawhats are respectful enough to give them their sweet uhhhh two minutes before they start complimenting Sanji. So that's something! Sanji is confident with her body but is a bit shy and isn't sure what Usopp will think about this. Not that she has changed much, even, but, you know. Just different. In a good way for her! But different. And Usopp approaches her slowly and smiling and he's just so so so happy. And he's like "You look gorgeous!" / "... Really? I wasn't sure whether you'd like it-" / "I will always like you! But more importantly, do you like you?" / "I mean- Weird phrasing, but yes. Yes? I think so. Yes." / "Then that's all that matters." And Sanji really, really doesn't want to cry because she has never cried in front of the whole crew. She just can't help it. But Usopp knows she doesn't like it when others see her cry so he quickly wipes her tears away and when she starts laughing (so so happy and full of love) Usopp just needs to kiss her.

Meanwhile, Luffy is there calling Buggy auntie and asking when she's going to tell Shanks about this. She keeps saying she will never tell him and if he wants to find out, he'll do it through her new wanted poster or whatever, but not from her.

[samo64]

Baldi's Basics Headcanons that will never be canon but are funny to think about because they're living rent free in my brain

Playtime has extreme zoomies, like when something exciting happens she runs all over the walls and ceilings in the schoolhouse so fast not even the Principal could catch her, she's too fast!

Bully only bullies the player and not the other students because if he were to bully Playtime or Arts and Crafters he'd feel bad but with the player he don't care not even a tiny bit.

If the Principal were to open his eyes i think it would have a medusa kind off effect except he doesn't turn anyone into stone instead strikes fear into those who break the rules.

Since Johnny is the shop-keeper i think he would be also a school faculty member like the other staff, like he's the only teen who works in the faculty.

Gotta sweep would have an ability to switch broom brushes by jumping out of one so he's just the pole and jumps ans twists onto another.

Baldi since he's an Anim8tor model would have the ability to take parts of his body off with no blood or gore necessary but is there for comedic affect and don't worry he can easy re-attach them because his arms and legs are segmented.

Gotta sweep's heritage consists of cleaning products like mops, brooms and farm reapers.

1st prize's hands specifically his fingers would have some form of articulation where he can grip.

Dr. Reflex has seen how some people compare him to rodents and he takes quite offense to that.

Joe would be the one character that would make some memorable cameos kinda like Stan Lee in the marvel movies.

Mrs. Pomp's is more easly quick to anger than Baldi or Dr Reflex.

The Baldloons can phase through walls like actual ghosts and mostly travel in groups of five with Red considered the leader.

Null/Filename2 can communicate to his crab bink easily.

When Null/Filename 2 Sneezes he reveals his skin for a brief second.

Baldi and Principal made the murals in the detention room with the principal's mural being written by Baldi while Baldi's mural being written by the principal.

Baldi would have vivid memories of Susan and Andrew but are usually a blur

The other head's on Red Baldloon's body imitate the main head's expressions

The Baldloons can shape-shift into other people in the schoolhouse the only difference is that they can't change color or remove the party hats.

Red Baldloon loves to eat the walls, doors, entirety of the schoolhouse when he has the chance.

These ones are for PriniciBaldi shippers

if something goes horribly wrong in the schoolhouse to the point where everyone has to evacuate, Principal would rush in and get baldi holding him birdal style and Baldi thanking him by showering Principal in kisses leaving read lipstick marks.

Baldi would hug the principal too tightly making a cracking noise in the principal's spine.

If the principal were asleep in his office, baldi would come in say goodnight and give him a little kiss on the forehead.

Back to our regularly sceduled programming

i feel like Bladder loves Badsum too much.

The Test would carry around the chalkboard where chalkes is currently on so chalkles wouldn't have to fly off somewhere

[blissfullyapillow]

hi!! idk if your requests are open (if not... ignore me lol) but... hello i'm the same anon who requested that horror movie yosuke drabble and i just wanna say it's so fucking cute you did a wonderful job!!!

on that note may i request another yosuke hanamura x reader fic where they're walkin home from school/junes/etc and it starts raining out of nowhere and they have to run from the rain to stay dry, but end up getting wet anyway. eventually they're like 'eh fuck it' and go and be silly and cute and goof off in the rain

anyway tysm again for that first drabble you wrote, lives in my head rent free, and have a good day! stay hydrated! <3

┃Rainy Days

₊˚⊹♡ Yosuke Hanamura x gn reader

₊˚⊹♡ wc: 640~

₊˚⊹♡ warnings: n/a

₊˚⊹♡ notes: sorry this is so late!

₊˚⊹♡ Main Masterlist

“Hurry up Y/n, you’re dragging your feet when it could pour any second!” Yosuke walks quickly ahead of me, but I only roll my eyes at his enthusiasm. “Yosuke, if it’s going to rain then it’ll rain. What’s a little bit of water going to do?” Yosuke stops walking ahead of me in favor of gawking at me. With pure astonishment written on his features, he opens his mouth to retort.

Unfortunately for him, the sky decides to open up at that very moment. Rain drops immediately start to fall, and Yosuke’s nose crinkles in annoyance. I burst out laughing when his fluffy hair becomes immediately waterlogged by the heavy onslaught of rain. 

“No time for laughing, hurry, grab my hand!” I cackle as I reach for his outstretched hand, and together we make a dash towards cover. We find a dry spot under the cover of one of Junes’ umbrellas. “Man, why do we always find ourselves here? Weren’t we just walking home from school?” As Yosuke grumbles about being at Junes, I take the time to admire his charming features.

Yosuke doesn’t seem to take notice, since he starts yelling nonsensical complaints at the sky. A smile graces my lips as his now damp hair swishes back and forth, wetting me with stray drops of water. 

“There’s no point in being mad since we’re already wet, so.. Why don’t we enjoy this moment?” Yosuke quiets down at the sound of my voice, but he raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “How exactly would we- Woah!” I interrupt him, pulling him close behind me into the tremendous onslaught of rain.

“Y/n! Are you crazy!? I..” Yosuke suddenly stops shouting, as the sight of your figure happily twirling and dancing in the rain steals his breath away. He’s momentarily stunned, completely in awe of you as you revel in the cold drops of rain running down your skin. It takes him a moment to snap out of his daze, but once he does he wastes no time in joining you.

Other students rush past the two of you, while one’s with umbrellas point and laugh. None of this is of any significance to the two of you, as Yosuke draws you into him, spinning you around as your head falls back in brazen laughter. 

You both stop moving around to catch your breath. You glance at Yosuke’s face, only to see him already looking at you. A sudden wave of shyness washes over you. “Is there something on my face?” Your horrible attempt at drawing attention from yourself only draws him in closer. 

He slowly leans in until his lips are but a breath away. They don’t remain there long, since Yosuke can never resist your lips. He pulls away with a start when a loud roar of thunder rips through the sky. “Let’s get inside now.” His voice is a mere whisper, yet it tugs and pulls your heart right into his hands. 

He looks dashing, all wet from the rain and out of breath. “Yosuke-” He kisses you again, and you fall against him. Your embrace in the rain is a sight photographers often dream of capturing with their lens’. Yosuke slowly pulls away from you, only to pick you up and start running.

Your startled shriek of surprise brings a goofy smile to his lips.

𖹭  𖹭  𖹭

In a dry, fresh pair of clothes, you sit beside Yosuke as the movie starts. You cuddle up against him as he presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead.

“You never answered my question.” You playfully grumble. He gives you a quizzical look that quickly morphs into a look of endearment when you ask him, “Did I have something on my face?” 

He presses a kiss to your lips once more before he replies, “Only the rain, you doofus.” 

[ghost-proofbaby]

GHOOOOST as much as maroon has taken over every single brain cell of mine, i can’t seem to stop thinking about 24 hours!eddie and reader lately! they still got me on a chokehold!

i was just thinking, like in the long run, were they endgame? i know they’re head over heels for each other but like.....are they in it for the long haul? what would happen if like the topic of getting married or having kids was brought up, how are they both going to react? 👀

i’m not asking or forcing you to write a blurb out of this or anything so please don’t feel pressured, i’m genuinely just curious about their lore!!! 😭 and i also miss them so much lmao might end up re-reading the series again while waiting for the next maroon chapter ❤️❤️❤️

anyway i luv u and i hope you’re having a great day!

wanna know a secret? they definitely still live rent free in my mind as well.

they were definitely end game in the long haul of things. in my mind, it's actually funny, because i've thought about them watching their friends constantly getting into relationships and those relationships constantly ending, and yet they're still there and going strong as ever while everyone is just like "...what the fuck?"

nancy and johnathan would probably end up breaking up in the twenty four hours universe. that's actually canon based on a sequel idea i had. like, we're talking not very long after the events of the main fic. nancy would go to reader and probably rant in the midst of her heartbreak "i just don't get it. i thought me and johnathan - we were gonna make it, you know? i thought we had the perfect relationship. and, no offense, but compared to you and eddie, we did." (which she obviously doesn't mean, but she's just hurt and projecting. we all know nancy was a number one reader x eddie shipper). and reader could grow insecure about it and overthink, but when she ends the day getting to gossip all about it to eddie, he just scoffs and said "excuse me? what the hell does that mean? out of spite, we're definitely gonna end up growing old together. gonna mock them from across the retirement home as i kiss all your wrinkles. that'll show them." and she's just reminded that, oh, yeah. it doesn't matter what other people think. this is her idiot for the long haul. and spoiler: it isn't spite keeping them together. it's the way eddie looks at reader like she painted the night sky just for him. it's the way eddie is the first person reader wants to talk to in nearly every scenario, the way he's the first person her eyes draw to in every room no matter how crowded. they bicker endlessly, they aren't always acting the most lovesick and nauseatingly affectionate with each other in front of others, and there's certainly been plenty of fights where the gang holds their breath for the announcement of a breakup, but they always find a way to make it through. always. they're one of those couples, ya know?

and i could also ramble about the whole marriage/kid discussion, but i actually had a short one shot about it i wanted to write! i think i've avoided posting any of the excess content i had planned for them because i don't want to beat a dead horse, you know? it's been over a year now, and even though i love and adore them, i don't want to seem like i'm milking that universe haha. if that's something y'all would like to see now even though it's been so long, i am finally out of my funk with writing them and could probably post some of those one shots! especially because the way they go about conversations like kids/marriage is so fuckin funny to me.

i luv you even more, and hope you have the most wonderful of days, friend <3 thank you for not letting one, but TWO??? of my stories take up residency in your thoughts. it means the world to me and i'm giving you all the hugs and forehead kisses <3

[rodolfoparras]

Kiss on the forehead to both you and 🐻‍❄️ for those latest old man Price posts because they're genuinely so good?? I just wanna treat that old man right and make him see stars, whether it's him riding me or me riding him. I want him so shamelessly 😔

I swear I don't know how I'd be able to keep my hands off of him I'd be so insufferable. Wouldn't want to hear a thing from him about how he's an old man and I am too young and can do better. Shut up and let me love you!!

Also, this morning while I was getting ready I randomly remembered this post of yours where you wrote about old man Price and his younger alt/rockstar boyfriend who reminds Price of crushes he had when he was younger and I need you to know how that drabble lives in my head rent free and it healed me spiritually and I keep forgetting to tell you how much I love it.

Like whenever I'm getting ready and putting my silly (scary) outfits and makeup (and all goths who wear makeup know how long that takes) I know damn well how horribly people will react but I also don't care. BUT something about imagining John being all heart eyes over it and watching me with biggest smile while I'm getting ready makes me feel so warm all over. The way I can totally imagine him saying something like "You look like Ozzy/Robert Smith" and I know I'd cry if he did.

Just a little ramble from me <3

-🔮

Kiss on ur forehead for reading them angel!!

Also you’ve got ideas spinning in my head because what about old man price who’s so used to being low on pda, always keeping his private life and work life separated but after he meets you he just can’t help but send a loving glance your way when you’re teaching new recruits or doing well on a mission, can’t help but put a hand on your shoulder or even subtly sneak a hand under your shirt when you’re stationed out somewhere with the squad, will openly place a kiss on your lips when 141 is around because he loves you so much and he wants to show the world besides he’s old doesn’t know how much time he has left why keep that love to himself

Also everyone knowing that price and you are dating laswell being extremely happy because that man has been single so long and she and her wife have begged and pleaded for him to find someone

Also I am creeped out with how in sync we are bc I was thinking about that Drabble just recently?😭 it’s one of my favorites and I’m so glad you liked it sugar!! Price would literally be your biggest supporter in everything you do, he’d love to sit on the sink or on the floor or wherever you’ll have him while you do your make up he’d even offer to help put it on and his tongue would be peaking out brows pinched in concentration as he glides the make up brush over your lid he’d also always want to help you take it off especially if you’re too tired somehow he’ll be like sleep love I’ll take care of it and uses baby wipes to get it off and even do a mini skin care routine while you sleep placing kisses on your face etc🥹

[fbfh]

STAR ANON HERE... I'm just curious what are your fave emo bands....

STAR ANON MY BELOVED!!!!! HOW ARE YOU DOING I MISS YOU <333 first of all, amazing question. I know the defenition of the emo genre is a little loose, but my favorite emo/pop punk bands are currently palaye royale, fall out boy (obvs), and paramore.

palaye royale own this fucking ass okay. remington leith.... ooooh my god. he has singlehandedly made me reconsider my stance on rpf. vampire!remington???? oh my god. oh my god. if I could drown in his voice I would. his cover of closer my nine inch nails actually brought about the second coming of christ. at the very end of no love in la where he goes "I SAID THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS LOVE IN LaAaAyEeee-"????? dead. actually dead. the boom is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard in my life, line it up is my FUCKING ANTHEM, and dying in a hot tub live is my favorite video on the internet. I don't use the phrase "eargasm" every, but I genuinely can't think of any other way to describe remi's voice. Emerson is an amazing drummer and incredible artist (I am SO jelly of his ability to draw architecture) and Sebastian is a brilliant guitarist and is the brain cell posessor (and probably has to routinely keep remi from jumping off stuff and breaking a limb with only partial success.) the grittiness and sincerety and emotion in remington's voice really just scratches my brain in a way that nothing else does. If I could get his voice made into something tangible I would open my skull and rub my brain against it for hours. I fucking love him.

fall out boy need no introduction. "doing lines of dust and sweat off of last nights stage just to feel like you" from 27??????? lives in my head rent free. been into some of their absolute headbangers from american beauty/american psycho and infinity on high recently like novocaine, jetpack blues (i'm sorry but "do you reMEMBER HOW WE USED TO SPLIT. A. DRINK. itNEVermattEREDWHATitwas. I think." I WANT THAT TATTOOED ON MY FOREHEAD!!!!!!!), thriller (OFC) and i've got all this ringing in my ears all singlehandedly describe my brain chemistry. that's what dopamine sounds like. ALSO fourth of july will never not sound like season 3 of stranger things to me. yk all the promo art where they're all turning around???? that but in gif form while the first few notes are playing. I wish someone would make a slightly harringrove centric edit of the starcourt mall incident and the fair and everything. if anyone knows about any season 3 fourth of july edits PLEASE send them to me because "i'm starting to forget just what summer ever meant to you"????? pls

PARAMORE. FUCKING PARAMORE RAISED ME. paramore got me through my teenage years almost singlehandedly. I remember when after laughter came out. I fucking love this is why. It's almost all I've been listening to. all we know is falling???? brand new eyes???? literally paramore have ZERO SKIPS it's insane. also (maybe I just haven't heard of them) but it's really refreshing to have a female lead singer in a pop punk band bc (again as far as I'm aware) that's not as common as having a male lead singer and IF I COULD MAKE MY INNER MONOLOGUE BE HAYLEY WILLIAMS VOICE??????? PLS- listen all I wanted was you is amazing obviously but my heart?????? MY HEART?????? I wanna scream that at someone and mean it. bucket list. I can't even reccommend any paramore songs bc if I try to think of good paramore songs I'm just going to list their discography. no fucking skips and I stand by that. Hayley's solo albums also feel very twilight bella swan depression forest angst core which I FUCKING ADORE. first thing to go is tattooed in my brain, specifically paired with this scene from the greatest romcom of all time french kiss. match made in heaven.

also lip candy don't have a lot of songs out yet AS I AM TYPING THIS I JUST SAW THEY RELASED AN ALBUM????? BRB LISTENING TO THAT NOW but they sound like what I thought teenager music would sound like when I was a kid (like they nailed it fucking perfectly) and have a very nostalgic feeling and sound to them which I adore. if you stay home and never be the same fucking slap. they slap and a half. it's giving demigod adventurecore roadtrip music.

[superbfics]

Jelly, this series is so phenomenal. You have a way of immersing us into the stranger things world so effortlessly that I envy! You paint beautiful imagery and pack so much depth into your writing without bogging us down with information. I can't wait to read the next part and fall even more in love with their story 💛

It feels like you're building a bubble. A place for only the two of you where you could forget about the reaper that's getting closer to knocking at your door. Even if it’s all an illusion, you’re happy to pretend if he’s with you. 

Your lips stretch into a grin, and your shoulders rise as you release a sigh.

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"What?" 

"I know that look," he says, shaking his head, "You think it's romantic."

"It is!" Your fingers wrap around his forearm.

"It's depressing," he says, laughing at you.

"No. Imagine loving someone so much that even once they're gone, you think about them all the time. A love you can never get over," you explain, squeezing his arm. "That is romantic."

MY HEART. I'm with reader 💛

He pulls out a single package, letting the box with the rest fall to the floor. Holding up the pristine cakes proudly, he quirks his eyebrows at you, looking just as smug as when you laid eyes on his other package yesterday in the cave. 

I'm so torn in lovey feelings of him searching for a snack for us and also thinking about his package. Thanks Jelly.

Circling his neck, you pull his head down until his forehead is pressed against yours. “You’ve been so brave and strong. I’m so grateful.”

"Stop. Don't talk like that." He straightens up and cups your jaw tilting you back to look into your eyes.

“You deserve to kn-”

“No, not yet. This isn’t the end. It can’t be.” He came to this place ready to die, but you made him take the risk and keep living. He’s not ready to give up and won’t let you either. “I need more time. I'm just figuring it out.”

It's not a choice anymore when his lips press against yours. It's just something that is, like the rain or a season. It comes whether it's beckoned or not. He feels a little foolish that he was ever unsure when you kiss him back like you've been his from the start. Always so busy trying to be the hero he almost missed it when someone saved him in return. 

It's not a choice anymore when his lips press against yours. It's just something that is, like the rain or a season. It comes whether it's beckoned or not.

Always so busy trying to be the hero he almost missed it when someone saved him in return. 

"Steve," you cradle his jaw, "You were worth the wait." Your whole life, you've been waiting for him, and the way he's kissing you now, you'd have waited even longer. Every kiss is a poem—pretty words printed on lips and tongues. Every touch is a story all its own. 

Every kiss is a poem—pretty words printed on lips and tongues. Every touch is a story all its own. 

Bared to each other in the yellow glow of the flashlight, you can feel the pages flipping by. Time is a luxury, but you won’t rush to the end. Laying down beside each other, you explore everything you've uncovered. In this moment, he’s yours. It feels decadent to touch him—a layer of softness over lean muscle. You’ve never seen anyone more beautiful. 

Jolts of white-hot pleasure bloom from your core and radiate to every cell when he finds that switch inside you. The one that has you crying out. The one that didn’t exist before him. You’re not surprised. He’s good at everything he does. 

You’re not surprised. He’s good at everything he does. 

JELLY. GOOD FUCKING BYE. WOW. YOU DID NOT HAVE TO SAY THAT BUT YOU DID AND NOW IT LIVES RENT FREE IN MY BRAIN.

For an instant, you live a lifetime that could have been in each other's eyes. Then his head lowers, and your eyes close. Tender kisses turn hot, and he’s hard inside you. Distant howls echo through the dead trees while strange winds rattle the shutter of the cottage, but both go unnoticed as you claim the night as yours. Each time he has you, the need for each other only grows. After your bodies have given each other everything there is to give, sleep steals you away a few hours before the light changes.

Steve waves a hand behind him, motioning for you to stay back while he steps forward with caution. He plants his feet, twirling the bat before catching it with his other hand, holding it up high over his shoulder. His fingers open and close around the handle to adjust his grip. A low growl vibrates the flaps of its open mouth as the thing keeps moving forward.

“We don’t have to do this,” Steve says in a low, calm voice, “You’re already hurt. Just let us walk on by.” 

HE'S SO HOT I'M GONNA DIE. I AM GOING TO ACTUALLY CEASE TO EXIST.

The planet will heat and explode. The two of you will become bright lights in the cosmos. Constellations. Star dust. Souls forever wandering the galaxies. 

If Tomorrow Never Comes | Part 2 | Never Alone

Summary: Trapped in the Upside Down, Steve is prepared to die alone until he finds you hurt and in need of help. Doing your best to survive while the world catches fire, is there time for one more chapter in your story?

Inspired By: As the world burns by @myeuphoricmindset

TW: FemReader, Smut, Mentions of death, mild violence No Minors 18+ Series Masterlist WC:7607

Even though there is no sun, the light here does change. The black veil of night lifts, leaving the world awash in a pale blue half-light. The sun stays forever banished just below the horizon. Steve doesn't see it change this morning. Thick velvet drapes hung with brass rings cover every window of the cottage, keeping out the Upside-Down. His internal clock wakes him, and for the first time in a long time, it's without the heavy dread, without the emptiness. Instead, he wakes with the soft warmth of you gathered in his arms, with hope blossoming. His eyes trace the delicate slope of your peaceful features, committing them to memory. Goddam, you're pretty. He keeps still, letting the soft puffs of your breath fan over his neck, limbs still woven together as tightly as threads on a loom. Holding you like this, maybe it can be enough. These fleeting moments could be enough to get him through each day. Whatever else happens, he could have this. His lips brush your forehead as his eyes blink closed, and he lets himself drift.

Standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the chipped cast iron kitchen sink, you’ve been brushing your teeth for at least five minutes. Sounds of pleasure escape as the minty foam bubbles inside your mouth. Taking a small sip from the canteen, you swish and spit before running your tongue over your lips. Steve chuckles next to you, taking the canteen and doing the same. 

“You really like brushing your teeth,” he teases. 

“I will not apologize for good hygiene,” you counter, “Would you like to kiss someone with bad breath?”

“Definitely not.” He sets down his toothbrush and steps closer, tongue poking the inside of his lip as he crowds you against the counter. “It’s good to know that won’t be a problem for us going forward.”

Heat creeps up your neck until it settles into your cheeks. Something has changed with him overnight, like a decision has been made. 

“You’ve got a little…” Picking up a knitted dish towel from next to the sink, you dab the toothpaste from the corner of his mouth. His hand covers yours, and your heart beats wildly in your chest. He’s got you off-kilter. You’ve never craved attention until you had a taste of his. A few looks, and you're drunk with it. 

He turns your hand over and looks down at the towel with a frown. “Why is everything in this house knitted?”

Your smile widens. “I’m not sure.” Pulling your hand away, you fold the towel and place it back on the worn butcher block countertop next to the stacks of kitchen linens and trivets, all knitted in bright-colored yarn. Copper pots and shelves stacked with dishes and crockery line the ivory-painted walls of the rustic kitchen. The well-used avocado green appliances look at least twenty years old, and cozies knitted to look like potted plants cover the kettle and toaster. 

“Do you know who lives here?” you ask, eyeing the table set for two with matching knit placemats and napkins, “I mean, on the other side.”

“No idea.” He leans against the counter, eyes roaming around the room. “Maybe there are some family photos around somewhere. Come on.” 

His hand is on the small of your back as you follow the hand-tied rug down the hall to the living room, where folded homemade afghans lie over the backs of the two armchairs and a comfortable-looking sofa arranged around the stone fireplace. The mantel is crowded with a collection of framed photos filled with happy faces.

“I like it here.” Taking a seat on the couch, you imagine curling up with a book and enjoying the warmth of a fire.

“Yeah?” He stands at the mantle, squinting at the pictures, “I do, too,” he says absently as he plucks one of the frames from its spot. "Do you want to stay for a while?"

“Is it safe?” You ask as he sits down beside you, clutching the frame, his side pressing into yours. So far, you haven’t slept in the same house twice. Steve preferred to keep on the move, feeling you were most vulnerable at night. 

“This place seems pretty solid, and it’s close to the water. I think it’s as safe as anywhere at this point.” 

“Then I’d like to stay.” 

It feels like you're building a bubble. A place for only the two of you where you could forget about the reaper that's getting closer to knocking at your door. Even if it’s all an illusion, you’re happy to pretend if he’s with you. 

“I do know who lives here.” He hands you the frame containing a photo of an older couple posed in front of the cottage, the man's arm wrapped around the woman's shoulder. Instead of looking at the camera, their faces are turned to each other. “This is Mrs. Willard,” he says, tapping the glass, “When I was kid, she used to yell at us if she saw us hanging around downtown. She scared the hell out of me. She's always dressed in black, so all the kids call her a witch. If she caught me, I thought she would eat me like in Red Riding Hood.”

“I think that was Hansel and Grettle.” Tucking your leg underneath your body, you turn into him, setting the frame on your lap. “Red Riding Hood got eaten by the wolf.”

His brows pull together. “I thought it was all the same story." 

Laughing, you shake your head in response.

"Anyway," he begins again, pretending to be irritated with your interruption, "My mom told me that her husband died, and she dresses like that because she’s in mourning."

"How long ago did he die?"

"Well, the first time she yelled at me, I was probably about five, looking at the candy in Melvald’s. She told me all my teeth were going to rot and fall out of my head. So he probably died sometime before I was born."

"And she still wears black?" you ask with wide eyes.

He nods. "She still yells at kids too."

Your lips stretch into a grin, and your shoulders rise as you release a sigh.

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

"What?" 

"I know that look," he says, shaking his head, "You think it's romantic."

"It is!" Your fingers wrap around his forearm.

"It's depressing," he says, laughing at you. 

"No. Imagine loving someone so much that even once they're gone, you think about them all the time. A love you can never get over," you explain, squeezing his arm. "That is romantic."

Shaking his head, he glances down at where you're touching him. "I like the way you look at things," he tells you, taking your hand and slipping his fingers into the spaces between yours. “If we're going to stay, we should go into town and get enough food to last us a few days."

"Alright," you say, admiring the way you fit together. Knowing you'll follow him anywhere as long as he keeps holding your hand. 

The walk takes longer than expected. Parts of the asphalt have cracked and given way into deep sinkholes that stretch across entire streets, causing you to backtrack and change routes more than once. 

"I think we better take everything we can carry," he says as he ties the red bandanna covering his mouth and nose. "We might not be able to come back." The smell of rotten food is wafting through the shattered glass doors of Bradley’s Big Buy. Unprepared on your first visit, Steve threw a brick through the glass, and the stench left you both gagging. 

"I'm ready." Your fingers smooth out the cloth covering your face before you follow him through the shattered door. He makes a quick pass across the store, checking down every aisle to make sure you're the only ones in here. After getting the all-clear, you walk to the opposite end of the store, moving up and down the aisles filling your backpack and duffle with anything you deem as a necessity. It's a cruel kind of race to see which will last the longest – your food or the Upside-Down.

Pushing a few cans around on the shelf, you search for the ones that haven't gotten puffy. The zipper on your duffle will never close, but you slip another can of SpaghettiOs in any way, knowing that Steve likes them. Your arms already ache with the thought of carrying all this back to the cottage. 

"I'm done," you call out, lugging your bags to the front of the store, where you leave them to search for Steve. Typically much quicker, he's usually by the door tapping his foot, impatient for you to finish. Today you find him between the moldy bread and crackers, boxes of open Twinkies strewn all over the floor, and loaded bags at his feet.

"What are you doing?" You ask, catching him frowning down at the open box in his hands, its contents a putrid green. 

"These things are supposed to last forever," he grumbles, tossing the box over his shoulder and reaching for another. 

"You don't even like Twinkies, Steve," you point out, amused by the intensity of his search. 

He throws another box on the floor and stops with his hands on his hips, looking at you. "Yeah, but you do." 

He's trying. The muscle in the center of your chest swells, pushing against your rib cage, feeling too big for such a small space as its rhythm changes like a record skipping to a new song. Your feet carry you towards him without your permission, a sudden shift catching you in the pull of his gravity. Your I'll Never list has just shortened by one–you have definitely lost your head for this boy. 

"It's the last box." He picks it up from the otherwise empty shelf, turning it over in his hands before his gaze shifts to you. "I've got a good feeling about this one." His fingers slide beneath the edge of the cardboard breaking the glue. Opening the box, he thumbs threw the cellophane

packets with a sour look.  Finally stopping when a devastating smile takes over his handsome face. 

He pulls out a single package, letting the box with the rest fall to the floor. Holding up the pristine cakes proudly, he quirks his eyebrows at you, looking just as smug as when you laid eyes on his other package yesterday in the cave. 

"Remind me never to bet against you, Harrington," you say, returning his smile. 

He answers with a wink, tucking them away into the breast pocket of his vest. "We'll save these for later."

Later is a decadent concept when it may never come, but delaying will make it taste even sweeter. Your tongue darts out, wetting your lips, and his eyes linger there. He must know that, too. 

“We should go.” 

“Alright.” He retrieves his bags and accompanies you to the front of the store, where he waits for you to adjust the full backpack on your shoulders. The large glass windows begin to rattle in their frames, and a vibration runs under your feet. 

“Shit.” Steve drops his duffle and reaches out to grab your shoulder as sounds of jars smashing and cans falling off the shelves fill the store. The tremor intensifies, sending you careening forward, falling against him. The weight in your pack adds to the force knocking you both to the ground. When you land on top of him the air is driven from your lungs. Strong arms wrap around you, holding you to his chest. One of the big grocery shelves tips over, starting a domino effect. A crack appears on the ground, widening as it lengthens, running straight toward you. Steve rolls you both away as it shoots past, leaving him on top. Then, as quickly as it started, it ends, everything goes still and quiet.

“Are you okay?” He asks a bit too loud, considering your face is inches from his. Sucking in panicked breaths, you manage to nod. He rolls off you onto his back and scrubs his face with both hands. “That was intense. The quakes are getting worse,” he says, trying to regulate his own breathing as the adrenaline leaves him. 

“I think I’ve had enough shopping for one day,” you quip.

“Me too,” he chuckles beside you. “Let’s get out of here.”

The street outside Bradley's didn’t fare any better than inside the store. The fissure that started inside zig zags across the road leaving the building across the street torn in two, collapsing into a deep chasm. A look shared between you is easy to interrupt–you were lucky. 

The destruction means you can’t travel the same route you used to get there, taking you further into a section of town that was already crumbling. Smoke filling the air from the nearby fire mixes with the low-lying mist that is a permanent resident here, making it harder to see more than a few meters ahead. You're shifting your duffle from one arm to the other when Steve's arm shoots out across your body, halting you in your tracks. With his other hand, he brings his index finger to his lips, then points ahead of you. 

Three full-grown Demodogs are becoming visible through the fog, their attention drawn to something squirming between them. Their horrible petal mouths are open, jaws snapping and tearing at the whining creature they're feeding from. Steve hands you his duffle and reaches over his shoulder for the spiked bat sticking out of his pack. He points at an alleyway up ahead and motions for you to follow. Your eyes widen, and you shake your head no, tilting your head back in the direction you came. No, he mouths, pointing at the alley, Trust me. But your gaze moves back to the monsters, the wet squelching of their mouths louder in your ears. He steps in front of you, one hand cupping your jaw, tilting your chin towards him. Trust me, he mouths again. This time you nod, comforted by the deep hazel of his eyes. 

A small smile is your confirmation. The warmth of his hand leaves your face as he turns away from you and takes a few steps toward the alley, looking over his shoulder to make sure you're following. Ice water has replaced your blood, your heart pumps overtime sending it through your veins, making each step forward a struggle. There's a voice screaming for you to turn around and run, but you trust Steve, so you follow. 

Their growls and chitters drown out the sound of your footfalls as you approach the mouth of the alley. As you round the corner, you catch a glimpse of what they're eating. Fear rushes over you in a dark, suffocating wave, the slick gray spotted body of another dog torn open, washed in its own blood. Your hands start to shake, and nausea sets in. The fog seems to permeate your mind. Every line of thought frays at the ends, leaving the one terrible inescapable truth repeating.

This is the end. This is the end. This is the end.

The ashen color that replaced the glow on your skin is one that Steve is familiar with, along with the blank look and the awkward movements of your steps. You’re going into shock. He had seen it happen enough with the others to recognize the signs. He grips your arm above your elbow and steers you down the alley, needing to get you away in case your feet stop cooperating altogether. 

After crossing a few more streets, the smoke starts to thin. There is less damage to this section of town. The rasp that accompanies your breaths is making him nervous. He pries his duffle from your grip, slinging it over his shoulder so he can wrap his arm around your waist, drawing you closer.

“You're okay,” he soothes, “We’re both alright. I’ll get you out of here—just breathe through your nose. Pull down your bandana.”

Relief floods him when you reach up with one hand and yank it off your face. “Good girl. Keep breathing nice and steady. I’m right here with you,” he says, hurrying you along. The streets have become residential, and he directs you through a maze of neighborhoods and backyards, recognizing spots where he played as a child. No, not here. This isn’t home, he thinks, spotting the collection of cracked and broken garden gnomes on Mr. Larson’s front lawn. It’s a nightmare, a cheap knock-off, and as he looks toward the horizon, he realizes nothing could ever replace the real Indiana sky. 

The outlines of the angry storm clouds are still evident even as the dim light fades into the velvet of night, but the flashes of red have been replaced by a smooth, rolling emerald light mixing with pinks and violets—an aurora caused by the gasses being released as the atmosphere cracks. Dustin. That little shit. He was right. It’s happening just as he had warned Steve it would. He wishes he could tell him. 

He glances at you and sees your eyes fixed on the display above, your breathing faltering. Pulling you against him a little tighter, he quickens his pace. 

"No, Steve. Stop," you say, planting your feet, "Just stop."

Your voice startles him. It feels like he hasn't heard it for so long. He lets you pull away and watches as you drop your duffle to the ground.

"Didn’t you see? They were eating each other?" Standing in the near darkness, you rub the ache from your arm.

"I know," he says in a calm voice. 

"You know what that means.” The look on your face is one of resignment.

“Don't think about that right now, okay?” He steps closer, wanting to touch you, but runs a hand through his hair instead. “We need to get back to the cottage. We'll be safe there.” 

“Safe?” 

“I can protect you there.” He gestures in the direction of the woods. The little house is not far now. The disbelief in your voice is making him feel out of control. You’ve never doubted him, and he needs your faith now more than ever. “I'll close the shutters, and we'll move some furniture in front of the doors.” 

“Steve,” your tone is feather-light, both hands land on his chest, one smoothing to his shoulder, “There are some things I want you to know-”

“No,” he cuts you off, pushing at your hands with no real force. 

Circling his neck, you pull his head down until his forehead is pressed against yours. “You’ve been so brave and strong. I’m so grateful.”

"Stop. Don't talk like that." He straightens up and cups your jaw tilting you back to look into your eyes.

“You deserve to kn-”

“No, not yet. This isn’t the end. It can’t be.” He came to this place ready to die, but you made him take the risk and keep living. He’s not ready to give up and won’t let you either. “I need more time. I'm just figuring it out.”

“What is it?” you ask, gripping his wrist, “What are you figuring out?” The thick cover of clouds has thinned, no match for the colors dancing all around you. He can see their brightness gleaming in your eyes. 

“That you're all I need.” 

It's not a choice anymore when his lips press against yours. It's just something that is, like the rain or a season. It comes whether it's beckoned or not. He feels a little foolish that he was ever unsure when you kiss him back like you've been his from the start. Always so busy trying to be the hero he almost missed it when someone saved him in return. 

Fingers wandering along your jaw, he swallows your sighs and your air, your want until he feels your hands wrapping around his waist, pulling him close, then he gives it right back. The world around you passes in a blur while tongues and swollen lips move languid and deep. This is where he lives now, in this kiss. All along, you've been his reward, and now that he's claimed you, he won't ever let go. He would've stayed here forever until your soft whisper between a series of broken-up kisses. 

"Steve, take me home."

The cottage is quiet until you hear the first bang of the shutters being closed, followed by the slide of the bolt. After leaving the bags of food in the kitchen, you stand in the living room wiping your palms on the front of your jeans, counting each strike of the wood against the walls as Steve moves around the outside of the house, knowing that each one is bringing him closer to coming through the front door. Your fingers touch your kiss-stung lips, still feeling how his mouth pressed against yours, creating a loop of electricity, passing from him into you, making your heart glow like a bulb, lighting up every secret place inside you until you had nowhere left to hide the truth. You've completely fallen for him. 

He walks inside, his eyes seeking out yours. A lock of hair falls over his brow as his lips turn upward, and he reaches for you. A hand on your waist, the other gripping your chin tilting your face to catch your bottom lip between his. 

"Help me move this." He kisses you once more before motioning you to the other end of the heavy oak credenza. It scrapes and catches against the wood-planked floor, but you manage to wedge it up against the door. 

The tension feels thicker than the fog rolling over the dry lake bed when you're finally closed in together. His flashlight clicks on, casting a dim beam in the direction of the bedroom. Eyes on each other, you wait to see who will be the first to crack—it's you. Taking his hand with a gentle pull, you lead him down the hall. The uneven floor creaks as you shuffle into the bedroom, letting go of his hand, you stop at the foot of the bed and wait. It's his turn now. 

Your fingers fist the cuffs of your sweatshirt while he goes about his routine. Flashlight on top of the dresser. Bat leaning by the door. Knife and Barretta on the nightstand, and then his heavy backpack hits the floor, followed by his jacket and vest. He sneaks glances at you the entire time, checking for signs that you’ve changed your mind, but you’ve never been more sure.

“You left the flashlight on,” you remind him when he moves into your space. He has been like that since you met, always standing a little too close. This whole wide world all to yourselves, and he was never more than a few inches away.

“I want to see you,” he admits. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," comes out breathy as his thumb traces across your cheek. Remembering the way the water dripped down his chest in the cave has you hoping the batteries will last. 

His head dips to capture your lips in a slow wet slide while his hands cradle your jaw, angling your head to take the kiss deeper. Dreamy minutes tick by, his attention never leaving your mouth. His controlled pace makes you feel needy and wanton. When you feel the sharp edge of his teeth against your lip, you know you aren't alone. Hands slide down your nape, across your shoulders, skimming down your sides. Fingers coming to rest in the hem of your sweatshirt. 

"Can I take this off?"

You're so lightheaded it takes seconds to respond. Nodding your head and raising your arms toward the beamed ceiling. His hands grip the layers of material, riding you of them all at once instead of one at a time. The gold in his eyes turns molten as they pass over every curve and line he's uncovered. His knuckles turn white, fisting your shirt, and how he looks at you makes your knees a bit weak. Pulling your clothes from his hands, you let them fall to the floor.

"You're so goddamn pretty," he says, barely louder than a whisper.

"I know," you tease, earning you an easy smile and his hands on your waist, drawing you close.  His head drops to your neck, chuckling against your skin, making your whole body break out in shivers. 

"You're funny." His lips move on your skin before placing a wet kiss on a spot that has your toes curling inside your boots. "There were a couple of times I had to try really hard not to laugh.”

“I-I knew…you were holding out on me, Harrington,” you stammer as he moves to the spot below it. 

“I wanted you to keep trying,” he says, adding gentle suction.

Whatever you were going to say comes out in a whine, but it was probably something like, please don't stop. He continues down to your collarbone, hands stroking up your back, releasing the catch on your bra. Letting the strap fall down your shoulders, you pull it out from between you as his mouth reaches the swell of your breast. Warm hands cup you as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, the sensation shooting straight to your core.

“Steve,” you beg when he switches to the other side, not knowing if you want him to stop or give you more. Tugging him up by the collar, you crash your lips into his, but he slows you down with the backs of his fingers along your cheeks and a kiss so gentle it makes you want to cry. He walks you backward until your butt hits the mattress, and he leans forward, laying you down carefully until you're leaning on your elbows. With another soft press of his mouth, Steve straightens and sighs, looking down at you spread out for him. 

“I would never have stopped,” you say when he lifts your foot and presses it against his thigh to loosen your laces. He swallows hard, nodding in understanding before he goes back to removing your boots and socks. This feels so different. He's making it different, taking care of every part of you like he wants it all. 

Your fingers find their way into the gaps of the knitted afghan you're lying on while you watch him take off his boots and shirt. A dark patch of hair starts at the center of his chest and fans out. Even in this dark place, his skin looks golden. This is really happening. A flutter of nerves mixes with tingles of arousal.

His knee hits the edge of the bed, and you inch back toward the center as he crawls over you, settling into the cradle of your thighs. Skin finally meeting skin, you each release identical sighs.

"I should have kissed you when we were in the cave," he says, lips ghosting a path along your cheek. 

"It's okay." Your eyes are heavy-lidded as you run your hands over the dips in his spine, enjoying the feel of him. "You're kissing me now."

"I should have kissed you every day." He places a kiss on the corner of your mouth before pulling back and smoothing the hair at your temples. "I'm sorry I wasted so much time."

"Steve," you cradle his jaw, "You were worth the wait." Your whole life, you've been waiting for him, and the way he's kissing you now, you'd have waited even longer. Every kiss is a poem—pretty words printed on lips and tongues. Every touch is a story all its own. 

He toys with the button on your jeans. Your zipper being lowered sounds like a needle dragging across a record. Moving onto his knees, he drags the denim down your legs, kissing each hip and your soaked panty-covered center before removing those too.

Kneeling to join him, your mouth finds the sharp line of his stubbled jaw. He groans, head tipping back, giving you better access to place soft, gentle bites along the column of his throat while your hands open his belt and pants. When you look down, the broad head of his cock is already pushing through the band of his boxers. Grabbing both layers, you ease them off his hips. He helps by pushing them the rest of the way down his legs, sending them to the floor with a kick. 

Bared to each other in the yellow glow of the flashlight, you can feel the pages flipping by. Time is a luxury, but you won’t rush to the end. Laying down beside each other, you explore everything you've uncovered. In this moment, he’s yours. It feels decadent to touch him—a layer of softness over lean muscle. You’ve never seen anyone more beautiful. 

His hands slide over you, warming your skin, molding to each curve. Every inch of you is admired. When his fingers move between your legs, your vision gets hazy, stars bursting at the edges. He spreads slickness through your folds while his lips stay pressed against yours. The warm blanket of pleasure becomes hotter, heavier—you grip his forearm with a shaking hand. 

“Don’t be scared,” he says against your lips, “Tonight is for us.”

“I’m not scared,” you reply, pulling him closer, you can’t think of any place safer than in his arms.

“Why are you trembling?” He asks, brows pulling together.

“Because I’ve never wanted anything this much.”

Your legs fall open as he positions himself between them, lining up with your entrance. No doubts that you both are ready. He's slow and gentle with his first push inside you. Your body stretches and takes, then stretches and takes some more. He's about halfway when you can't help but clench around him, and he thrusts forward with a moan. Your back arches involuntarily, feeling fuller than you've ever been before. 

"Sorry." He nudges you with his nose.

"Don't apologize." You kiss wherever you can reach. "Do it again."

He chuckles, and his hips flex enough to have your breath catching, still getting used to his size.

"You feel so good." His eyes briefly close as your walls flutter around him, and he begins to move in slow, shallow strokes. "Like you're made for me, honey." 

You're starting to think maybe you were. Maybe you were made for each other. He drops to his forearms, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, bringing his mouth back to yours. His hand slides over your hip and down your thigh, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist so can bury himself deeper. He rocks into you with a steady pace, gazes locked, trading sighs, impossible to be any closer. The ache in your heart swells, spreading through you. A tear spills over your lash line, it's too much for you to contain. 

"I love you," you whisper as he wipes it with his thumb. "I thought you should know." 

His movements still. He stares down at you and swallows hard, trying to loosen the tightness in his throat. "Tell me again." 

"I love you." 

Taking your hand, he holds it against the center of his chest. His heart beats against your palm. He's been telling you this whole time. He smiles, and it feels brighter than the sun. Your hand stays pressed against the warm skin over his heart as his head dips, sealing his soft lips to yours.

His kiss is filled with words left unsaid and unrestrained desire. Your hips roll involuntarily, desperate for friction as you whimper into his mouth. He breaks away with a scrape of teeth and hungry eyes.

"I need you," he mumbles, lifting your hips to change the angle. His hand grips the back of your thigh, pushing it toward your chest, using it as leverage as he drives into you with smooth deep rolling thrusts. Jolts of white-hot pleasure bloom from your core and radiate to every cell when he finds that switch inside you. The one that has you crying out. The one that didn’t exist before him. You’re not surprised. He’s good at everything he does. 

“That’s it, honey. I want to hear all those pretty noises.” His fingers tighten, pressing into the plush of your thigh as his hips snap forward. The smacks of skin on skin become the baseline for your harmony of moans and pleas. Your heels dig into his backside as your hips rise to meet his thrusts. The chill in the room does nothing to calm the heat between you or the sheen of sweat covering your bodies.

"Steve...I–"

Threads of love and pleasure weave together until they're a single silken cord pulling taunt inside you. He releases your thigh, working his hand between you, his thumb circling your slick clit. 

"Please, baby. I want to feel you cum." 

The rasp in his voice. The desperate look on his face. You're his, and there's nothing you'd deny him. The cord snaps with you crying out his name, pulsing around him, fingers digging into the muscles that cap his shoulders. Euphoria crests in big surges that go on and on as he thrusts lose their tempo. He groans as warmth starts to fill you, painting your walls white with his release. 

He eases onto you, and you take his weight cradling him to your chest. 

"I love you. I love you. I love you," you whisper, maybe too low for him to hear, your hands smooth over his back while your legs wrap tightly around him. He kisses along your temple before taking your face in his hands. 

"I don't regret a single decision that led me to you."

For an instant, you live a lifetime that could have been in each other's eyes. Then his head lowers, and your eyes close. Tender kisses turn hot, and he’s hard inside you. Distant howls echo through the dead trees while strange winds rattle the shutter of the cottage, but both go unnoticed as you claim the night as yours. Each time he has you, the need for each other only grows. After your bodies have given each other everything there is to give, sleep steals you away a few hours before the light changes.

He's still holding you when the vibrations send the bedside lamp crashing to the floor. Wisps of smoke curl in the air when you wake up in the hazy room with a burning throat and begin coughing. Steve grabs your arm and pulls you from the bed. He braces one arm against the door frame and holds you against his chest with the other. The tremors increase. The sounds of falling things and breaking dishes mix with the rumbling of the earth. A crack forms at the bottom of the far wall and runs diagonally toward the ceiling.  A scream rips from your dry throat when the window explodes into a shower of glass, and smoke pours into the room. 

“We’ve gotta get out now,” Steve yells when the quake abruptly stops. “Get dressed and grab what you can.”

Grabbing your crumpled jeans from the floor, you slide them over your hips and shove your feet into your boots. Your sweatshirt sticks out from under the bed, and when you kneel to grab it, the black metal handle of the Baretta catches your eye. Steve has finished dressing and is grabbing his pack and bat when you finish pulling the sweatshirt over your head.

“Come on,” he says, holding out his hand for you to take. He leads you into the living room, where half the ceiling has collapsed, spoiling any chance of you moving the heavy credenza that blocks the front door. 

“The window,” you cry, backtracking into the bedroom with Steve right behind you. He lifts you through the broken frame but is left with no choice other than to grip the window frame to climb out. Jagged glass slicing his hand in the process.

“Your hand.” Your fingers circle his wrist, trying to assess the damage.

“It’s alright,” he says, pulling a bandana from his pocket and squeezing it into his fist,“We have to go.” His injured hand goes around your shoulder, turning you away from the cottage. Blood flows through the gaps of his fingers, dripping onto your sweatshirt as he keeps you tucked into his side. 

The dense, acrid smoke makes finding your way through the trees hard. Smoldering twigs and vines rain down all around you, igniting piles of dry leaves on the forest floor. Your mouth opens with a gasp when your eyes turn skyward to see the treetops blazing and the billows of rolling red and orange flames that have replaced the dark clouds, completely consuming the atmosphere. The smoke thins as you make it out of the woods and into the open center of the dry lake.

Hot tears pour from your eyes, leaving streaks of soot down your face, and you can't stop coughing, trying to clear your distressed lungs. The quarter-full canteen from Steve’s pack is pressed into your hands.

“Drink it,” he rasps, coughing and spitting the black from his lungs.

Twisting the top, you gulp it, careful to drink only half. He shakes his head when you hold it out to him, but you take his hand and wrap it around the bottle, not giving him a choice. With an annoyed look, he finishes the water.

“What do we do?” you ask, panicked, watching his head turn back and forth, trying to decide the best course of action. The smoke and fog make it hard to see more than fifty feet in any direction. He looks down at your alarmed face, the sorrow in his eyes giving you his answer. 

No. It can't be over. Pressing the heels of your hands to your forehead, you wrack your brain for any answer. 

"The cave," you grasp his arms, pleading.

"Is it deep enough?" He asks, the doubt written on his face. 

"I-I don't know." You shake your head with fresh tears filling your eyes. 

His face hardens in determination. "Let's go."

Hands locked together, you race through the tangle of vines covering the limestone bed toward the other side of the lake, where the cave is tucked into the side of a hill just beyond the edge of the woods. Glancing back over your shoulder, you can see a wall of flames has crashed like a wave engulfing the houses and the little cottage cutting you off from the way back to town. The smoke thickens as the wind picks up, shortening your field of vision and slowing you down. 

"Almost there," Steve reassures as you do your best to keep up with his long strides.

You doubt your ears when you first hear it, thinking it's just a tree snapping and the roar of the fire. It's the high pitch chittering that has terror creeping up your spine.  Its outline becomes visible through the smoke. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Petal mouth in full bloom. Your body freezes in place. Your grip on Steve’s hand tightens like a vice.

“Stay behind me,” he tells you, shaking his hand from your clasp as the monster comes into full view. It limps forward, smoke rising from charred skin covering half its body, its damaged clawed limb hanging loosely at its side—sticky strings of saliva drip from its rows of teeth.

Steve waves a hand behind him, motioning for you to stay back while he steps forward with caution. He plants his feet, twirling the bat before catching it with his other hand, holding it up high over his shoulder. His fingers open and close around the handle to adjust his grip. A low growl vibrates the flaps of its open mouth as the thing keeps moving forward. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Steve says in a low, calm voice, “You’re already hurt. Just let us walk on by.” 

You’re astonished when the monster stops, like maybe it understood him, and for a heartbeat, you think it may have listened. 

It charges forward with a deafening roar, claw swiping at Steve's head. Missing when Steve drops into a low batter’s crouch, swinging his bat and connecting with the burned half of its abdomen. It shrieks when the nails tear through its flesh. Black blood pouring from the wound.  Steve gives it no time to recover. Hitting it again and again, driving the thing back. It howls, disappearing into the smoke. 

Your pulse is drumming in your ears as everything goes quiet. Steve stands there, elbow up, ready to swing. Trees pop and crackle as the fire spreads through the woods. Your eyes strain, trying to see into the smoke, but there's nothing. Adrenaline starts to dissipate, and Steve's arm comes down slowly. He glances over his shoulder, giving you a smug smile, and you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. 

It pounces from the fog, screeching. Backhanding Steve, sending him flying. He hits the ground hard, rolling, trying to get to his feet, but the monster is already too close, on all fours, ready to strike. 

"No!" you scream, drawing its attention. Reaching back, your hand closes over the grip of the Barretta tucked into your jeans. The thing looks at you, and you fire. The bullet punches through the burnt skin of its shoulder.  With an ear-splitting scream, it gallops toward you. Your finger squeezes the trigger in rapid succession. Unloading the clip. Missing more than you hit. Its claw rips through your forearm, knocking the gun from your hand. Clutching your arm, you fall backward onto your butt, trying to inch away.

It knows it has you now. Dropping to all fours, it slowly crawls over you, drooling onto your clothes. It blows its wet breath into your face as it chitters. Your stomach rolls at the stench, and your eyes flutter close as it rears back to strike. 

Wetness splatters your face. The axe head is logged halfway into the back of the monster's thick neck. With a gurgle, the thing falls to its side. With your good arm and feet, you scurry backward away from it. Blood runs down the side of Steve's face from where the skin is split open on his forehead. Breathing hard, he stomps his boot onto the shoulder of the creature. There's a wet sucking sound as he pulls the axe from its neck. He grunts, bringing it down over and over until the monster's head is separated from its body. 

The axe clangs when it hits the ground. Steve wipes the blood from his eyes with the back of his hands. It’s too much, you want to be brave for him, but you can’t hold back the tears.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he says in a soft voice helping you to your feet, “Don’t cry.” He wraps his blood-soaked bandana around your arm and pulls you into his chest. “You’re alright.”

Your hands wrap around his waist, dipping under his shirt so you can feel his smooth skin under your fingers while he rubs reassuring circles up and down your back as your teardrops darken the leather of his jacket.

"Aren't you glad you taught me to shoot?" you ask, sniffing into his shoulder, smiling when you feel his chest vibrating with laughter. 

"I guess it came in handy after all," he says with his lips kissing along your temple.

"You saved me, Steve." 

"I didn't–"

"You did."

"I didn't, but I wish I had."

"Look at me." He cradles your jaw to tip your head back, and the small motion leaves you dizzy. As you stand in each other's embrace, the haze and smoke have thickened. 

“You’re beautiful.” His thumb rubs along your cheek, and you laugh, knowing you're covered with soot and gore. “You are, and you deserve to know.”

“Thank you,” you say, knowing why he’s telling you. While you fought off the monster, the blaze swept through the woods, leaving walls of fire surrounding the lake. The vines covering the bed have started to catch. Soon the flames on the ground will flare higher, joining the fiery sky. The planet will heat and explode. The two of you will become bright lights in the cosmos. Constellations. Star dust. Souls forever wandering the galaxies. 

"I love you," he tells you with tears in his eyes, "I do. I love you."

"I love you too." Your throat burns with the effort to speak.

"Close your eyes."

Your eyes close as his head dips and his soft lips press against yours. His hand slides to the back of your neck and you cling to him. Trading breaths, tongues dancing. 

This kiss is a thousand words. 

This kiss is goodbye. 

The heat is at your back and through your closed eyes the light gets brighter. His grip on you tightens before the kiss breaks and you hear him calling out your name. When you look for him, it's too bright to see, like you're staring into the sun. His hands slip as he's pulled away from you, sliding over your shoulders and arms until you're connected by just your fingertips. 

"No. El." His voice comes from far away. Echoing down a tunnel. "Not without her."

"Steve," you scream as his fingers slip away. "Steve!" But you're alone with the howl of the wind and the taste of smoke in your mouth. Your hands come up to shield your face as the light gets brighter, and then there's nothing. 

Part 3 Here

AN: So what do you think is in store for these two? Are they going to make it? Thanks to everyone who took the time to comment & reblog Part 1. Writing this fic has been challenging, so the comments meant a lot. But even if you're shy and don't like to comment but still took the time to read I'm still very grateful. My asks are always open, (Anon or Not) Do me a soild and reblog if you liked it. 💋 -Jelly

Another big thanks to @myeuphoricmindset for letting me adapt her concept.

[fluffypotatey]

I'm so happy that even with FlyingBark gone they kept all the subtleness of ShadowPeach fights. They're so half-baked and it's great. They're communicating, and teasing, but still holding back information, and habitually falling into their old defensive comebacks from old conflict. This Macaque is SO much more forceful in getting Wukong to listen, but he's been going to therapy or something lol. Literally chest puffed up, angry turn around, one look at Wukong's downcast face and you can see his body relax as he sighs and turns around to hide his own face. And then his fancy little *one hand on hip, one hand on forehead* and you can audibly hear him take a deep breath, guess Sandy taught him the art of deep breathing exercises to de-escalate from a fight *takes notes for fic*

seeing them still fight and yet be closer than where they started was so much fun to watch!!! we may have lost the animation that Flying Bark spoiled us with, but we still have the writing and storyboarding 🥰

gah, ep1 lives in my head rent free. it rots up there 🫠 and it’s their fault

[pinkkop]

The The Sign NC scene is living rent free in my brain and I keep thinking of new reasons why it's just so good. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to share my thoughts so here is my list of all the things I love about the scene. I'll do it in order of when each thing happens in the scene and sprinkle in some GIFs so you get a front row seat to my decent into madness.

Here we go...

The intense eye fucking before Phaya gave in and rushed to Tharn cause he just couldn't wait any longer to get his hands on Tharn.

Tharn finally living out his fantasy of being manhandled and boxed in by Phaya, because you know ya boy had been fantasising about this for so long by this point.

Phaya trying to kiss Tharn's forehead because one thing we know about Phaya is that he's going to ask "Is anyone going to kiss Tharn's forehead?" and then not wait for an answer.

When Phaya kisses Tharn after the bj as if he was dying of thirst and Tharn was a glass of water.

When Phaya pulled Tharn's head forward by his hair and proceeded to devour Tharn's earlobe while Tharn was clearly completely lost in the sauce and enjoying every moment of it.

The subtle but clear nod from Tharn when they're on the bed, which seemed to be consent for something (who said consent wasn't sexy?!?) though we can only guess what Phaya asked. My two cents are that it was something related to the following act, so maybe Phaya asked whether Tharn wanted it, whether he was okay or if he was ready, assuming that Phaya had already started prepping him 🤯

Phaya's hand on Tharn's hip just slowly and gently caressing in the most loving way because if Tharn's fantasy was the manhandling, the loving touches were Phaya's.

Tharn's face when, what I assume is, the initial entrance happens... Or maybe the result of some extra pleasurable moves by Phaya 🥵

Phaya and his single minded focus on Tharn. Phaya is clealy living his best life and is 100% devoted to making sure Tharn also has the best time.

The eye contact, just to hammer home that this isn't just a one night stand with no feelings involved.

Tharn biting his own finger...

The mirrors, resulting in the most gorgeous shot while also showcasing them and their faces better.

The very satisfied Phaya kissing Tharn on the shoulder and then tucking him in while Tharn is completely dead to the world. I too would have been very satisfied if this was me and my partner 😆

Also just the lighting, editing, and camera work made this scene so pretty and a joy to watch. Paired with Billy and Babe's amazing chemistry and acting, this NC scene has got to be a good candidate for best NC scenes of 2024.

You know what I would love for a future episode, even if I don't think we're getting it?! Another scene where Tharn is feeling himself while his mind wanders, because now he has the memory of the NC scene as fuel instead of just his fantasy.

Anyways... It's fair to say that this show has a tight hold on me and I can't wait for this week's episode (only 5 days to go!!!).

I am a little worried about the next episode since the preview looked very intense. Also Babe legit started tearing up when they watched the preview at the end of their reaction video, so it's probably going to be an intense episode. I fear we'll be left in shambles and have to spend next week picking up the pieces but I trust the show to tell a good story so I have no doubt that I'll love the suffering.

If anyone needs me until then I'll be in horny jail 😅

[thelost-in-time]

For the Valentines event may I request for Cyno (that man lives rent free in my head) and everything else is up to you. Have a nice day.

Hi! Thank you so much for your request! I've got one order of Cyno your way! And I hope you have a nice day/night too!

The event

.

Knock, knock. Special delivery.

Oh? You've got a letter and a visitor? Let's see what they have to say

You found a letter at your door, and judging from the handwriting on the envelope along with the colour of the envelope itself, it was your lovely Cyno.

But who left the letter here?

You figured Cyno probably sent someone to drop it off for you, or dropped it off himself before heading to work.

Shrugging to yourself, you went back into your house and to your living room couch, where you had been watching TV before having to get up.

Temporarily ignoring the TV, you opened the letter.

.

Happy Valentine's Day, my love

I know, I know. You probably wasn't expecting me to write you a sweet Valentine's letter

And to be honest, neither was I. I'm not usually one to write letters to anyone, but I decided to now.

I love you.

You may find yourself facing tough times, but know that I'll always be there to help you through them.

You'll never have to be alone anymore. I'm here. I'll help you through anything, and I'll make sure to take care of you.

You're my lover. And you mean everything to me. So I'll protect you from anyone and anything.

I've also included a gift for you, but it's not attached to the letter.

You have to look up in order to find it.

Forever yours, and forever loving you,

Cyno

.

Once you looked up from the letter, you almost had a heart attack.

"Damn it, Cyno! Don't scare me like that!"

You exclaimed, placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart while Cyno shrugged and sat next to you.

"You left the door unlocked. Always make sure to lock the doors."

"No, I knew you were here. I just wasn't expecting you to stand in front of me like that"

You said, finally managing to calm yourself down before Cyno reached into his bag and pulled something out.

It was a few of your favourite snacks and treats, along with some little trinkets he picked up on his way.

"I picked your favourites. I know how much you like them, so I wanted to surprise you"

Cyno told you with a slight shrug, causing you to smile as you look over at him.

"And what about the small trinkets?"

You asked him, causing him to look away from you, his cheeks heating up the slightest bit.

"They're things I saw that reminded me of you, so I picked them up for you."

He explained, almost shyly. Quite the sight indeed, since not many get to see the scary General Mahamatra bashful.

However, before you could see his bashful side (not like you haven't seen it before), he pulled you into a hug.

"I see you were watching your favourite show before I arrived."

Cyno said as you hugged him back, humming to confirm his observation as true.

"Care to join me?"

You asked him with a smile, and Cyno smiled back before nodding and getting comfortable with you.

"I'd love to."

Cyno said, snuggling closer to you for some cuddle time. He was quite affectionate behind closed doors and loved any affection from you.

"Hey, love?"

"Yeah?"

You asked, glancing over at him as he kissed your forehead.

"Did I tell you I love you?"

"Yeah, of course you did."

"Okay. I just wanted to say it again. I love you."

.

Bonus

Later, that night around dinner time:

"Honey? What did one owl say to another owl on Valentine's Day?"

"Cyno, I swear to Kusanali—"

"Owl forever be yours."

.

.

.

.

Likes are reblogs are welcome

[gremlin-writes-angst]

hiiii!! ive been binge reading your BP fics and gooosh!!! they're so good!!! the yandere fic is living inside my head rent free(especially toasty's part i love him so muuuch)!!! <3

anyway, can i request a fic where the MC told the LIs that 'they need some space' and they're like panicking internally, asking themselves if they messed up or something because they thought that the MC will break up with them, bUT actually MC just want some roomspace/just want to move out(together with them of course) because they have so many things already or maybe the MC just wants to have a pet?

and im sorry im on anon mode, im quite shy ><

I don't mind that people use anon, I have it open for a reason.

anyways I enjoyed writing this ( its the angst lover in me)

Slight Tw for yelling and cursing

You were putting away your clean dishes, mumbling to yourself.

“Where can this go? No no, I guess I can squeeze it in here?”

You say something like this with every dish you grab, you don't even have that many, you just don't have the proper room for them. You were so frustrated you didn't notice your boyfriend had finally woken up, he was staying with you over the summer before his job started, he was hired but his first day wasn't until the fall, and it was the last week before he'd have to go back. You were already missing him, in truth your frustration with the dishes was more about trying to forget he would be gone next week. Sure he'd still be a phone call away but you wouldn't be able to watch him wake up, you wouldn't be able to feel the warmth of his body, the smell of the perfume and cologne he wears, he'd just be an image on your screen. You focus back on the dishes not wanting to think about it. Grounding when you can't find room for another dish.

Nightowl rubs his eyes as he watches you move around, clearly frustrated.

“What wrong cutie?”

After finding a place for the dish you groan and answer Nightowl, your tone filled with frustration.

“I just- I need space.”

Nightowls groggy brain questions what that means, was it about your relationship? He thought he was being a little clingy but he thought you were fine with it, hearing you say that makes him think about how whiny and needy he must be, he feels selfish for not thinking about your feelings. He wants to make it better, whatever that means.

“I'm sorry, I can give you space.”

You pause, not understanding what Nightowl’s saying.

“What?”

“If you need space ill, I'll respect that, I know I'm annoying so I'll give you the space you want.”

“Nightowl? What are you-”

“I mean I'll still talk to you- unless you don't want that- I guess I could do that too. How much space do you need? Should I change my ticket to leave sooner?”

Nightowl is too tired to try and pretend he's okay with this, his face giving him away. His frown, his sad puppy dog eyes, the way wrinkles on his forehead. You look him in the eyes as you take his hands.

“No baby, I don't want space in our relationship, and I don't think you're annoying, and I will cry if you move your ticket up to a sooner date. I need physical space, for my dishes, and almost everything else in my apartment, it's so small.”

You watch as Nightowls face shifts into a happier one before he pulls you into a hug. you feel him sigh, you feel his wrath, you hear his heartbeat, you breathe in his cologne, everything about him makes your heart race, it doesn't help when he whispers into your ear.

“You should move in with me.”

You nod into the hug wanting to stay here forever, but your dream is ripped from you by Nightowl pushing you away.

“Wait! Really? You want to live with me? You'd move to my city for me? Ahhh this is so exciting, should we pack now?”

You laugh at how happy your boyfriend is, you know you're going to love moving in with him.

Quest was waiting for you to be done getting ready for your date. He was patiently strolling through his phone as he heard you shuffle around. When you come out of your room, you stand in front of him, gorgeous as ever, but with a scowl on your face. Quest laughs at the way your face scrunches.

“You okay angel?”

“ I need space.”

It was three simple words, and yet they made Quest freeze. His mind floods with reasons why you feel that way. Was he being too clingy? Were you tired of comforting him? Did he not show you how much he appreciated you? He was trying to find the positive in this, maybe he needed space. His mind goes back to the week before he met you, the cold feeling that surrounded everything he did, the cold feeling in his chest, the cold feeling that made his bed feel empty, loneliness. No, he didn't need space, space would only hurt him… but it would help you. If it's for you then he’ll do it, his pain is only a small side effect for your healing, it is not important. Maybe with space, you'll realize how much you love and want him, and that will be enough to make him forget about the nights he shivered with loneliness. He makes his decision, his voice deflated as he agrees.

“Ok.”

“Wait really!?”

He looks at your face, previously a scowl, now a large smile plastered on. Were you really that unhappy in this relationship? Am I that terrible of a boyfriend that leaving me put such a smile on their face? If any of that was the case, Quest would have to use the space to think about how he treats people. This space might be a good thing for him.

“Yeah.”

His voice still deflated. he watches you bounce to the door as you continue to talk, he stays on the couch, uncomfortable.

“This is going to be so great, I'll be able to wake up next to you every day. No more plane tickets or strangely timed calls. Oh, where should we live? I mean not here, it's too small for just me. We could get an apartment somewhere else, or we could live in your apartment. Your apartment is kind of big just for you.”

You bounce back into your living area, seeing Quest still seated, his face twisted in confusion. You become worried, especially when you notice his eyes are a little watery.

“Quest? Love? Are you okay?”

You realize that your excitement was could be overwhelming him.

“I'm sorry, we can talk about it another time. Or I can drop it, you don't see very onboard with this anyways.”

Quest shakes his head as he pulls you into his lap.

“No. No angel I’d love to live with you.”

“Then, then why did you look so scared and… sad?”

Quest blushes at the embarrassing truth he's about to share

“I- I thought when you said you need space, that you meant in our relationship like you wanted to take a break. And- I -I didn't want that.”

You never even considered that your word would be taken any other way, and now you feel at fault for Quest’s pain.

“Oh my gosh no, I would never, I was trying to drop the hint that I wanted to live with you. I'm so sorry, I should have been more clear.”

“No need to apologize, my brain just jumped to conclusions.”

You get up from his lap, reaching a hand out for him.

“Let's talk more about this on a date, come on lover boy.”

Quest takes your hand as you guide him to the door.

“Hey? If you thought I wanted space…why did you say yes? Do you want space, like in our relationship?”

“No!”

“Then why say yes?”

“I thought it would make you happy.”

Quest admits quietly, knowing how it sounds.

“But not you, I know you, you would have been sulking 24/7, you need to think about yourself more, stop thinking about others first.”

Quest opens his mouth to defend himself when you stop him, knowing what he was going to say

“Including me!”

He smiles at the fact you know him so well, and how you care for him, he's glad that you're going to live with him.

You had just got done shopping with Toasty, putting trying to put away all your new stuff. You knew you didn't have room for this but Toaster bought it anyway without your knowledge. He wanders into your room concerned by the sounds coming from there.

“Is everything OK?”

“No! No it is not! I just-i need space!”

You yell, frustrated at the room, redirecting it towards Toasty.

Their mind stays strangely calm after you say that. His mind shutting down anything that could hurt him trying to calm down. He knew this would happen eventually, they knew you were too good to be theirs. He tried to convince himself that he was prepared for this, it was inevitable.

“Ok, um goodbye.”

They turn and walk out of the room, slow tears falling from their eyes.

You realize what you said and rush out with Toasty grabbing his wrist and using force to turn them toward you. You look at their face, tears flowing down without a care, your heart breaks for them.

“No, no that's not what I meant. I- I think I want to live with you.”

Toasty takes a few seconds to process what you said but as soon as he realizes what you said his face instantly changes, blush filling his face, and a strange half-smile.

“What?! I-you-please explain I-my heart can’t?”

They work hard to speak but with their excitement and confusion, they struggle. You laugh a little before explaining.

“I need more apartment space or living space and- we've been together a while, we'd have a serious talk about it but, we could do it.”

You look into their eyes as more tears fall from their face, faster than before

“Or-if, not we-we can stay separated if you- of you prefer-”

You freak out at his reaction, afraid you scared him away, but then he interrupts you.

“No, I'd like that.”

He pulls you into a loose yet secure hug, it doesn't hide how he shakes with fear.

“I'm here.”

Your simple words break the last bit of his restraint, he lets himself sob in relief.

Even though you had been with Xyx for over a year this was the first time he came was able to visit you. You never had someone stay with you, so it revealed two things. One your apartment was too small, and two you loved living with Xyx. At first, you thought it was like a honeymoon phase, so you ignored the feeling but every time you woke up to see those green eyes admiring you, you struggled to push down the idea that this could be every day.

So you decided you would suggest it to Xyx, maybe he'll catch on, maybe he'd tell you he feels the same. so you try to drop hints, he never really caught on so you try to be more obvious. You get ready in front of a mirror, you can see Xyx watching from behind you. You move lightly hitting your elbow on something, you let out another hint after grounding about the pain.

“Uggg, I think I want a break for this, it's so confusing, I just need more space!”

Xyx doesn't listen to the tone of your voice, the way you joked, the way you are addressing the apartment, all he heard were the words, and all he sees is flash becks. Flashbacks where his ex said something very similar when he agreed. Flashbacks of weeks later when his ex was with someone else, how they would tell him.

“We're not together right now, you can't get mad.”

Flashbacks after flashbacks where his ex would ask for a break, every time was because they wanted to get with someone else, without losing Xyx. He won't do it again, he knows this road and he refuses to go down it again.

“I don't do breaks, if you want some space then we’re done.”

You stand there frozen at Xyx's harsh voice, he moves to leave the room as you try and move. When he's out of the room your body finally moves, cursing yourself for your wording as you frantically try and get to Xyx. You move and hit your elbow, toe, and head as you try to move to yell as you do

“Fuck! Shit! Xyx! Goddammit!”

Xyx has to stop himself from caring about your pain, you just ripped his heart out of his chest. Why should he care about your pain?

You rush to him finally getting to him out of breath from the yelling and pain. You try to explain but you are cut off by Xyx.

“I don't want to hear it. I'm not going to change my mind, I don't want to take a break and I don't stay in relationships where they don't want to be with me.”

“I want to live with you”

Xyx stumbles a little as he collects his stuff but then continues, it's just a lie. He checks his bags, he decides everything that's not on him he can rebuy he just needs out of here. He heads to the door when he is stopped by you, your arms spread defensively, your face flushed out of all the movement and anxiety. Xyx thinks you look cute but shuts his thoughts down quickly, it's over, he needs to stop thinking that way.

“Xyx, I'm serious. I wasn't talking about our relationship, I was talking about this place, my apartment. I've been trying to drop hints that I don't want to live here, hoping you'd catch on, slyly suggest living with you. I didn't think you'd take it that way. Please, please, believe me, don't leave here, don't leave me.”

Tears stream down your face as you fight the possibility that Xyx will leave you. Ignoring the memories that flash in your mind, the days you cried yourself to sleep from the loneliness, the days before Xyx. You hate yourself for ruining this, ready to let Xyx leave, maybe it'll be best for him to leave you, but then you hear him. His voice is low, soft, depressed. He only ever talked with this voice when the Cat was sick.

“I won't leave.”

You forget everything you previously thought as you fall into Xyx’s arms, you breathe a little hard as you let the adrenaline calm down. Apologies continue to fall from your mouth as you let Xyx guide you to your room. He positions the two of you on the bed, he holds you tight, so tight you realize how scared he was. He was trembling, you really scared him, you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him just as tight. The two of you stay there for a long time, the two of you would talk about living together later, right now was about comforting each other.

[iamthecomet]

You wanted headcanons? I'm giving you Mountain/Dew headcanons because they live rent-free in my head -Mountain knows Dewdrop gets cold during the winter and will always bring him to the greenhouse on the coldest days when the fireplace won't warm him up enough. He'll show Dewdrop the new additions to the greenhouse since his last visit and will always have the Fire Ghoul close to him -Pet names. Mountain has a variety of pet names for Dewdrop. He loves to call him fire poppy the most because it represents the fire element and symbolizes that even though something can be burned beauty can still grow from the remaining ashes -Dewdrop LOVES to push Mountain's buttons. He wants to see the Earth Ghoul crack slowly with his antics before he cracks down on his misbehavior and does something about it. Sometimes Mountain gives in and sometimes Mountain can withstand his antics- it all depends on the day, his mood, and just what Dewdrop is doing to piss him off -Sometimes when the pair are alone and know they'll be alone for hours they will try to make the other break in a fun game of "who is the sappiest Ghoul today?". The games includes things like dancing to sappy/romantic music, giving the other a gift or twelve that they stashed back for this specific moment, affection attacks, and seeing who can say the sappiest, most love-filled declaration until they both break into laughter because of how cheesy and corny they're being -Dewdrop wouldn't admit it but he loves it when Mountain surprises him with bouquets of flowers. Seeing the variety of flowers each time wrapped so nicely and trimmed so perfectly makes his heart swell with love and appreciation for his Earth Ghoul. Sometimes he'll even get a little note attached to the ribbon around the flowers and he has kept each and every note he's gotten with them. He keeps them somewhere safe where nothing can damage them -Upon occasion Mountain has caught Dewdrop playing with his element out of boredom, summoning fire in his hand and making it dance in his palm and move around his hand like nothing. Each time Mountain catches it he asks if Dewdrop can show him more and the Fire Ghoul is always happy to show him what else he can do. Sometimes Mountain will randomly ask to see him play with fire and Dewdrop always does. -Though Dewdrop isn't one to express how much he loves Mountain in normal ways, he has his own ways. The biggest one is that whenever Mountain is away from the greenhouse he tries his best to sneak in and take care of the plants for him. The ones he knows need extra warmth? He'll warm them very carefully using just a gentle heatwave. Something is becoming overgrown? He'll trim them down to how he knows Mountain likes it. Multiple plants need to be watered? He'll spend a good chunk of time watering them and then giving them each a little kiss afterward. Some plants need to be repotted? He'll do it in a heartbeat and sweet-talk the plants while doing so. When Dewdrop is done he'll make sure he leaves no traces behind and skedaddle before Mountain gets back. Mountain still hasn't figured out who takes such good care of everything to this day, either -At the end of the day, Mountain and Dewdrop are the pair you'd never expect would work together but end up being the best pair you've ever seen. They love each other so much and will make sure that the other knows it, even if it means metaphorically stamping it on their forehead (Dewdrop did it to Mountain once, pressed his hand to Mountain's forehead and said "I just stamped you with how much I love you so you'll never forget". They both broke into a ten minute laughing fit afterward)

I love these. I especially love the idea of Mountain giving Dew flowers and Dew pretending it isn't his favorite thing in the entire world. I feel like Mountain knows though--and takes special care to pick ones that mean something to him in regards to Dew (even though Dew doesn't know anything about flowers and doesn't know what they mean). Also! Dew taking care of the greenhouses is just perfection. Especially considering I think Mountain is probably pretty wary about letting Dew go anywhere near them as a general rule. So I love that he has no idea who's doing it--but it's really just Dew all along. See, he CAN do nice things--just--you know--don't tell anyone or he'll burn you.

[allofthismatters]

Not fully a headcanon request but I would love to know your thoughts on avalance’s proposal/what was going through their heads, the immediate before/after it fades to black

Oooo I have FEELINGS about all this.

The proposal was the most in-character, perfect proposal I could have asked for, and Sara telling Ava "this is when you say" "-say yes?" while both of them cry-laugh lives in my head rent. free. Just the absolute joy from them both was beautiful.

I think that after the initial proposal, while they're hugging and crying and kissing and crying some more, they both think of the scene from 6x01 where Ava promised that Yes, as soon as Sara came home, she'd marry her, and it makes the moment even more profound; to Sara, that moment is what kept her from letting herself freeze to death. To Ava, it was the last time she saw Sara, weak and dying and too far away to help her, and it's haunted her.

But they finally just made good on their promises.

After that, they go back to the ship and the whole team throws together an impromptu little celebration--just some music, snacks, drinks. There's just warmth and love all around, their family feels right again.

Ava doesn't drift far from Sara at any point, and they finally, finally eat--Sara doesn't remember the last time she ate, and Ava's been sick with grief and no appetite, so now they're finally getting some food in their system, which is like the best feeling in the world, right?

After about an hour, everyone can tell that Sara's totally drained, and Ava is a little agitated, like she's only just holding herself together and needs to be alone with Sara so she can fall apart.

So they go back to their room. Sara's exhausted, weak and shaky now that all her adrenaline from the past weeks has worn off, just totally mentally and physically demolished, and she just needs to feel clean- she wordlessly tugs Ava toward the shower, lets her help get her clothes off. She rests her forehead against Ava's chest while Ava washes her hair, scrubbing out all the grime from everything she's been through and scratching at her scalp until Sara's practically asleep standing up.

She leaves Sara to finish showering. Sara comes out a while later, wearing Ava's t-shirt which is just a little too big on her and makes her feel secure, and when she sees Ava sitting on the bed, everything catches up to her, hits her like a tidal wave--

All the fear, worry, lack of sleep, lack of anything warm and gentle, the trauma of everything, has melted into the past and now it's just her almost-wife unfolding an extra blanket for her in their soft, familiar bed and it makes her crumble.

Despite the shower, she's freezing; space was cold and it's stuck in her bones. She gets under the covers, lets out a relieved sob as Ava takes her into her arms, their bodies fitting together as easily as breathing, she shivers against her for long minutes before she gradually warms.

Once she's stopped shaking, she feels the tears forcing their way out--Sara's wanted to cry so many times the last few weeks but couldn't--now she can, she's safe, she's with the safest person in the world. She finally loses it and Ava is clutching her as tight as she can as soon as the first couple of sobs escape her.

Usually if one of them is falling apart, the other one gets strong enough for the both of them. But there's no reason for that now--they're home and safe. Ava cries with her, silent tears while she presses kisses to Sara's hair and her temple. She knows that if Sara breaks down, it's usually gut-wrenching but brief, so she just holds her in one piece while her entire body shudders with each sob, digging her fingers into Ava where she's holding her back.

Ava's still and quiet, just mutters her love and relief and endearments against Sara's skin barely at a whisper.

Holy shit, this got long. I'm stopping now lol

[lvlywook]

⭒ENHYPEN scenario⭒

: enha as types of skinship

tags: boyfriend!enhypen

tw: none

i actually really like how these turned out hehe :3

everything is under the cut!

h e e s e u n g

him to you: hand kisses

i think hee would really REALLY like playing with your hands and fingers and stuff

whenever you'd be sitting next to each other he would just pull your hand to his lap softly and play with your fingers (and rings if you wear any)

so I think it's fair to say he'd kiss your hands a lot too

like you're writing something and your hand starts to hurt hee will massage it softly and place softly kiss it as well :((

and just whenever he feels like it he will just take your hand in his and bring it to his lips :(((

ALSO he'd tease you when you're flustered

this man would laugh his ass off

while sporting this really bright smile

showing his perfect teeth lol

you to him: soft pecks

okay but like-

imagine sitting on hee's lap and softly kissing his face when he's stressed :(

just kissing his cheeks and forehead and nose and lips and yeah :((

omg

and him GIGGLING-

noooo :(((

just-

i'm SAD

giggly blushy heeseung lives in my mind rent-free

j a y

him to you: leaning on you

as in randomly leaning against you

you could be standing in the kitchen right?

like talking with heeseung who's making ramyeon or smth

and then jay suddenly walks in and lays his arm on your head

and just leans on you

or if you're taller than him (cause we don't discriminate when it comes to height here :3)

then he walks up behind you

and hugs you from the back

and just puts his head on your shoulder :((

he's baby and no one can convince me otherwise

and if you try to get away from him

he'll pout and complain in his baby voice :((

you to him: sitting on his lap

jay doesn't seem like a very touchy person to me personally

but I can totally see him whining if you refuse to give him cuddles

so something that kinda became a routine for you two is sitting/laying on his lap

while he strokes your hair

and you're both just kind of talking about whatever

enjoying each other's presence :(

or if he's gaming with jake and jungwon

you'll just come up to him

and he just knows what your intention is

so he opens his arm for you

and you just sit on his lap and hug him while he plays

tho be careful

if they're playing pvp and he manages to kill jake or jungwon

you might get hit in the head with the controller :)

j a k e

him to you: forehead kisses

it just seems like something jake would do

there is not a single day where jake won't want to kiss you in some kind of way

but his favourite kind of kisses are forehead kisses

they're pretty intimate but also kind of innocent and sweet

it's kind of his way of saying "I'm proud of you for everything you've already managed to achieve"

i hope that makes sense lol

he'd also probably like kissing your eye lids for a certain reason idk :p

but he'd softly hold your face in his hands either way

no matter how he's kissing you

you to him: cheek kisses

this guy's a flirt but I feel like it's more verbal than anything

so I'm not sure if he's really into pda and stuff like that

but something he always demands from you are cheek kisses

but it's not like he'll say it or initiate anything himself

no no

he'll just tap his cheek and expect you to know what to do

and sometimes it's even in front of the other members

who tease you both about it a LOT

especially sunghoon and jay

and if they do tease you two

jake won't be able to stop blushing awwww

his smile as well :((

he'd be a giddy puppy for the rest of the day

s u n g h o o n

him to you: hand holding

sunghoon isn't really big on skinship and pda

i can FEEL it

but he MUST be holding your hand at all times

it helps him feel less anxious

guess you could say it calms him down?

like if you're holding hands

and you start brushing the back of his hand softly with your thumb

he'll melt

like he's a literal ice prince

he'll MELT i'm telling you

he'd have such a bright smile on his face whenever you hold his hand too :((

and if you're going somewhere together

and he gets excited about something

he starts running towards it while STILL HOLDING YOUR HAND

so you're just stumbling behind him :/

oml i love this boy ;-;

you to him: nose kisses

imagine how much this boy would blush

he'd be a tomato every single damn time you do it

and he always gets so flustered he starts stuttering

just imagine him walking you home after a date right

and instead of kissing his cheek

you plant a soft kiss on his nose

and then you walk into your house

and shut the door

he's just standing there like🕴️what just happened

and this wouldn't happen only once

no no no

you try to kiss his nose every single time you see him

and he stops being all cute and soft about it

now he just dodges you or straight up runs away from you

just to tease you :P

s u n o o

him to you: back rubs

idk why but I think the first think he'd do if you're stressed or need something to ease your nerves would be rubbing your back

but not like just sitting beside you and softly rubbing/patting your back with one hand

i mean like sitting behind you and giving you like a small massage(?)

while he talks to you about his day and how the members wouldn't stop teasing him all day and stuff

and if he's proud of you he just softly reaches out to you and pats your back softly

and then he hugs you

and squeezes life out of you :)

you to him: squeezing his cheeks (or even just holding then tbh)

you can't help it (and neither would I)

he'd just so cute :(

and his cheekies are adorable :((

so whenever you feel like it you just squeeze/poke his cheek

and don't you DARE even TRY to lie to me

you'd boop his nose too

and he ALWAYS sends this judgemental look your way

like a cute 'excuse me???' kinda face

and I can totally see heeseung and sunghoon teasing him about it if they ever get to witness this happening

j u n g w o n

him to you: backhugs

you could simply just be cooking in the kitchen

or doing the laundry

or the dishes

or maybe you're laying somewhere

sitting on the ground even

just whenever there is space behind you

jungwon will do everything in his power to fit himself there and hug you from behind

he just softly wraps his arms around your shoulder :((

and doesn't let you go

ever

it gets up to a point where if you need to walk somewhere

he's just walking behind you

still holding onto you like a damn koala

expect a lot of backhugs from this baby :(((

you to him: resting your head on his shoulder

you could just be sitting next to each other on the couch

or maybe you're in the car, exhausted from a trip you guys went on

doesn't matter

but if you're sitting next to him

you WILL lay your head on his shoulder

and he dies every single time you do so

you know how he has a really cute reaction whenever he's shocked?

that's what he'd be like

each and every single time

and if you ever decide to not do it

he'll go out of his way to put your head on his shoulder himself

it's just something he expects you to do by now

n i - k i

him to you: playing with your hair

I don't think ni-ki is really into skinship - just like sunghoon

just- the december babies give me these vibes you know?

so he'll probably hug you every once in a while

maybe kiss your cheek every blue moon

and hold your hand but that's kind of it really

and there is nothing wrong with that

but something that he can't really control is his need to have his hands in your hair

if it's long enough then he'll try to braid it

and if it isn't then he'll try to make it stand up and will probably tug on it a little lol

there's no way this boy will ever NOT pull on your hair to annoy you

or it's really curly and/or coily then he'll softly tug it behind your ear and just twirl it around his finger :((

that is if you give him permission

i KNOW FOR SURE he'll ask you first before touching your hair no matter what it's like

consent is key kids

no matter what situation you're in

you don't need to ask for consent if you wanna punch someone in the face tho

#monigivesadvice

edit i decided to make a looong time after this was posted:

if you don't have hair then i can see riki tugging on your clothes a lot for whatever reason

just tugging on your sleeves mostly and playing around with the fabric

or playing with your accessories (rings, necklaces, bracelets,...)

he'll also pull you closer to him by your clothes (he'll just like- tug on your shirt to pull you closer lol)

what i wrote for hair also applies to wigs if you wear any <33

you to him: resting your legs on his lap

how I already said I don't think this boy is really into skinship

so I don't know if he'd feel comfortable with you (or anyone) snuggling up to him and being too close

something that is a bit more intimate that you guys do would be resting your legs on his lap

it's just like a little sign to tell other people 'we're close' without being too touchy

so if the two of you are hanging out

sitting on his bed/the couch

then 99.99% of the time he WILL pull your feet onto his lap

and if you try to move them away he'll look at you with confused eyes and feel a bit offended if you don't tell him why you did that lmao

a/n: I just want to say english isn't my first language so I'm very sorry for any mistakes! also, I'm not sure if everything sounds right (or if something is possibly offensive or not) when it comes to ni-ki's him to you part. i tried to include different types(?) of hair (hair texture?? is that the right term??) but I'm not sure if I've done it the right way! so please tell me if something I wrote is even a bit offensive and stuff and I'll correct it once I have some free time :( thank you!!