#anyways this has gone really long and off topic

[halfdeadwallfly]

me every other day almost accidentally posting my real name on this site because for some reason i keep forgetting that y'all don't know me irl and this is supposed to be a sort of anonymous blog

[whokilledsamara]

hii!! I saw you write for homicipher so i was wondering if you could write some dark/yandere sfw & nsfw headcanons for mr scarletella 🥹 thank you so much & take ur time!!

MR. SCARLETELLA HC {N/SFW}

a Mr. Scarletella {homicipher} x reader n/sfw hc list.

{thank you for your support and nice words! :3}

warnings! : stalking, non-con, dub-con, hardcore, marking, slight gore, rough sex, violence, rough fingering, biting, cunnilingus, blowjobs, smut, murder mention, somno

{an : i didnt quite get what you meant when you said "dark" so hopefully this is what you meant. this is really hardcore. to the soft hearted people and people who cant handle ACTUAL freaky stuff, i wouldnt recommend reading this. there is a small section underneath the regular nsfw hc with a cw on it, so if you cant handle certain topics, there is still an nsfw section without it. he is my favorite character from homicipher ommggg hes so hot. id give him my name HAPPILY.}

SFW HC

sfw relationship/meeting him hcs

when you first meet him alone, he is very unexpected. his presence and constant facial expression is unnerving to say the least, but as long as you can manage that you will be fine.

if you end up "accepting" him, the relationship would be very weird.

he would be a wonderful partner despite the obvious other reasons, but dont think he wont be watching you constantly.

he will bring you daily gifts, consisting of anything he can find that he thinks you will like.

as for touch, he will let you touch him. usually he wouldnt let anyone even accidentally touch him, as he would teleport away, but one you are in a relationship with him, most boundaries he had before are gone.

he is rather fond of holding you. whether that be in his coat {for some reason} or just in general.

in Japanese culture {from my research, i am NOT Japanese!!} holding an umbrella with someone is a sign of love and acceptance. therefore he always likes you to hold it with him.

he isnt one of those "down-lo" kind of people. he makes it known everywhere that you are his.

he will do whatever it takes to please you. you are literally his princess/prince. even if that includes killing someone {he does it anyways}

if he catches anyone staring at you, or even remotely close to you, he will either teleport you away {if you are friends with the person} or kill them on the spot.

no matter how much he seems to be emotionless, anything involving you in pain or discomfort, it will flip a switch in him.

he has to be near you always. whether you know it or not, he will be there.

he hasnt quite grasped the concept of kissing or "romantic" things, but whatever you do he goes along with it. he rather enjoys hand holding or pressing his face into your neck.

he is the delulu type {this whole fandom knows it} and anything you do he will take as flirting. dont deny it though, hes too obsessed to care

he has a big thing for the height difference. he is a little over 8 feet tall, and feels a need to protect you at any cost.

any cost.

NSFW HC

what its like to have sex with him.

starting off, this man is a BEAST during sex.

he is a quick learner, and whether he is using his hands, mouth, or any part of his body, he will find those spots that makes you squirm.

one of his favorite things is you riding his thigh in public. say he was talking with Mr. Silvair, and happened to be sitting down. he would want you on his thigh "discreetly" getting off. bonus points if you cum.

he wouldnt be opposed to a threesome, but he has to trust the other person. a rare occasion.

anything you want to do, he will immediately comply. need him to go down on you? hes on his knees. even in public. need his fingers inside of you? absolutely. need his dick? against the wall you go.

he has a big dick, and luckily he knows it. he wont force everything inside at first, but eventually he will. you can take it. he thinks

he loves your body, and he makes sure you know it. even in his strange language, you can understand the things he is saying because he is touching you while he is doing it.

he makes little to no noise during sex, but not because he isnt enjoying it. he LOVES sex with you, but he prefers to listen to your noises. he would have it on repeat if he could.

you could look like anything and he would still find you to be the most attractive person on earth {or his earth, whatever}

for afab, he isnt one of those guys who has a hard time finding your clit. in fact, he doesnt even have to look. immediately his fingers will be circling that little nub that he loves so much.

he is a very dominating person, but it probably wouldnt be hard for him to let you dominate him. i say let because in no situation do you actually have control.

his fingering sessions are borderline violent, the pads of his fingers hitting that perfect spot with every curl.

cw! its about to get very dark and possibly triggering! viewer discretion is advised!

if you are one of those people who get off on your man killing for you, then he is the man. he will torture people in front of you as you touch yourself.

his sex isnt even borderline violent, it IS violent. if hes angry especially, he doesnt care if he hurts you.

afab, he will bruise your cervix and make you bleed. his tip hits so hard with his brutal thrusts that you will.

on certain occasions, {tw!!!} he will force himself on you. while it is rare, r...pe can happen, so be careful and dont piss him off.

he doesnt need sleep, so if hes horny enough then he will fuck you while you're sleeping. if you explicitly ask him not to, then he will just jerk himself off over your sleeping form.

dont expect to walk away from a rough fucking WITHOUT marks all over you. he makes it a mission to bite, claw, tear, any part he can. he wants you covered in blood, it gets him off faster.

will probably brand you with something

if you have a trauma kink he WILL use it to his advantage.

thats all bye bye!!! :3

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[morallygreyyn]

Can i pls get some clingy ass illumi x reader who hasn’t seen them in days because of his missions?

Have a nice day!! Make sure to drink water💓

miss me? (illumi zoldyck x reader)

description: illumi has been gone for a week and when he returns, he seems slightly off. it didn't take you long to realise that he wanted attention, namely yours...

authors note: another super old ask but i love this one with all my heart and soul. illumi? stunning. clingy illumi? immaculate. seriously there is nothing i love more than illumi so this is how i think he would be when he's clingy and wants attention! have a lovely day anon and i really hope you drink lots of water! (seriously i've just found out how important this is so pls everyone drink lots of water to flush out that bacteria) 💗

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

requests are open! please read my rules!

You hadn’t seen Illumi Zoldyck for the better part of a week. While you were used to the assassin leaving often for work, usually you were in a position to follow him. This time, however, was one of the rare occasions where you had to stay home at your apartment, all for that blasted electrician who kept cancelling on you. If he called you one more time to cancel, while you stayed home when you could have followed your boyfriend to a sunny location that you would have treated like a holiday, you swore you would hire the Zoldyck yourself to track him down. 

As though he had heard your silent threat, the electrician came and went, and your kitchen appliances were once again fully operational. Happy that you could finally restock the fridge, you left to get groceries. You couldn’t admit this out loud, but your apartment often felt too empty without the assassin occupying it too. While he didn’t own the space where you lived, he stayed there often enough that he may as well share it with you. 

It had surprised you when you brought up the offer of living together and he didn’t reject the idea immediately. Illumi actually seemed contemplative, as though it was almost a pleasant thought. That was what you assumed anyway, you could never truly tell what he was thinking most of the time. 

By the time you returned home, you knew something was different immediately. For one, you were certain that you had locked the door. Cautiously stepping into the apartment, you coiled and prepared to strike whatever or whoever was lurking. Despite not being an assassin, you were still a qualified Hunter, and those licences did not come easy.

It turns out that you needn't have bothered as, when you approached the living area, Illumi was sitting calmly at your kitchen island watching you. 

“Oh, Illumi!” Setting down your bags, you ran to him, throwing your arms around your boyfriend as you held him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“No signal.” He said simply as he let you hug him, hands gingerly settling around you. You had to fight tooth and nail for him to learn how to hug properly, and even now he still hadn’t quite managed to perfect the act. Despite this, he still tried, and that was good enough for you. 

Pulling away, you looked at him with a smile. “How was it?”

He shrugged, a clear sign he was disinterested in the topic. “Simple.”

Nodding, you stepped back to put the groceries away, not wanting them to rot on the floor. Illumi sat back down, fathomless eyes locked on you while you completed the task you had set for yourself. You liked to think that you knew the Zoldyck rather well, and that included when something was bothering him.

Turning around, you raised an eyebrow as you met his gaze. “What?”

“What?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Why are you pointing that out?”

“Because I’m wondering why.”

“I stare at you a lot.” He stated, tone very matter of factly.

“I know, but now it seems different.”

“It isn’t.”

“If you say so, darling.” You rolled your eyes and finished putting the food away. Once you had, you turned to face your boyfriend once more, looking for an explanation.

“You forgot something.” Illumi said, and while his voice was the usual light and expressionless one, his eyes still bore into yours.

Looking around, you couldn’t see anything out of place, and you had certainly left nothing on the counters. “What did I forget?”

Illumi didn’t answer, only continued to look at you expectedly. Now you were really confused, and slightly unnerved by his odd behaviour. Illumi rarely acted like this.

With no answer to give you clarity, you grinned in feigned annoyance, kissed his cheek and whispered you were happy to have him back before you left to head into the room you used as an at home office. 

Sitting down at your desk and opening your files, you stared blankly at the screen while you mentally observed Illumi’s behaviour. There was something amiss, and you couldn’t put your finger on what. He wasn’t usually the expressive one; well, he was never the expressive one. All physical, verbal, and emotional affection fell on your shoulders to deliver. While this may seem one sided to most, you didn’t mind as you knew Illumi was not able to express much by way of love. Despite this, you knew he loved you, in his own way. He had threatened to kill the electrician for you when you complained about the situation to him, and that spoke millions. Not only that, but he also allowed you to be as affectionate as you are with him, and he accepted it whereas anyone else wouldn’t have a chance in hell of even approaching him, let alone the things you did together.

What was bothering him?

Just then, you saw a shadow move in your peripheral vision, and your heart dropped to your ass. “Fucking hell, Illumi! At least knock!”

He ignored your outburst. “What are you doing?”

“Working.” You said as you willed your heart to calm down.

“Oh.” Illumi stayed standing behind you, hovering ominously. 

Then it clicked, Illumi was being clingy. This was how he acted when he wanted attention. Unable to control yourself, you laughed loudly at the realisation.

“What?” He asked, watching you stand from your seat to face him.

Your smile was incredibly smug as you approached, wrapping your hands around his waist. “Did somebody miss me?”

Naturally, he didn’t respond and it might’ve been your imagination, but he seemed to relax under your touch. 

“I think I know what I’ve forgotten.” You captured your lips with his own, smiling as you did so. It was moments like this that made you realise that Illumi did in fact love you, and that he was quite attached to you. Even if he didn’t show it much, his hands resting on you, the slide of his lips against your own, the way he seemed unwilling to let you go spoke for him.You pulled away for a moment, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. You had the Illumi Zoldyck as your lover, and no matter what anyone said, he loved you. “Miss me?”

[moonstruckme]

I am clean from sh for about 6 months now (yay me) and lately, idk why, I’ve just kinda been struggling with accepting my scars and the fact that I’ll have them probably forever and your writing is really comforting and actually helps, so I wanted to ask if u could maybe write something with Spencer helping reader feel ok with having them on reader‘s thighs?

totally understand that that’s a touchy topic and if u don’t wanna write it, I also completely get it, thanks anyway for even reading this xxx

Ahh yay you!!! Congrats baby, and thank you for requesting <3

cw: past self harm, some nudity that's really not sexual but they joke about it a bit

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re sweltering. D.C. doesn’t usually get very warm, but for the last week you’ve been on a streak of record-breaking temperatures that’s made your clothes stick to your skin and has caused even your perpetually chilled boyfriend to refrain from putting on his cardigan until he gets inside his work each morning. Just walking between your car and various air conditioned buildings is enough to make you consider moving to the Arctic. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping inelegantly down on the bed to peel your jeans off. “Can we turn the A/C down to sixty, please?” 

“Let’s start with seventy,” Spencer negotiates. You hear his footsteps stop halfway down the hall as he adjusts the monitor. “I think we still have some lemonade left, if you want some.”

“Ugh, yes.” You tear your jeans off your ankles with enough force to nearly send them flying across the room and sigh blissfully as the A/C kicks on. 

You change out of your sweaty shirt too, going for your pajamas despite it being hours from darkness falling. You have no plans to go out into that hellscape again until tomorrow. You hesitate over a pair of pajama shorts before slipping on loose pants instead, not quite as cool but still light enough to allow some air flow. 

“I love you,” you tell Spencer when he passes you your lemonade as you come into the living room, sitting beside him on the couch. Ice clinks inside your glass, which is already forming little beads of condensation. You have the urge to rub it on your face. “I mean, unconditionally, but especially right now.” 

“I’ll take it,” he jokes back, tilting his head back so his face is in the path of the A/C vent. When he looks up, he finds you pinching up the fabric of your pants around your knees, trying to create a pathway for the air to move up your legs. “Why are you wearing those?”

You know what he’s asking you, and you intentionally misunderstand. “I felt like it was pajama time. No way am I going outside again today.” 

“Right, but aren’t you warm?” Spencer tilts his head. He looks like a particularly cunning puppy, brown eyes soft and inquisitive.

“A little,” you admit. 

“Then why not wear something shorter?” 

“That’s awfully forward of you.” You do your best to give him a smile. It doesn’t stick around long in the face of your boyfriend’s serious expression, increasingly worried. “Maybe I don’t feel like parading my legs around for you.” 

You can see the cogs turning in Spencer’s brain, and the usually fascinating process is suddenly almost painful to watch. You know he’s thinking of what you refusing to wear shorts used to mean, how nobody ever thought anything of it because, again, D.C. doesn’t tend to get very warm. How evasive you were about it then, too. An uncomfortable weight settles in your stomach. 

“Is there a reason you don’t want them out?” he asks, and his voice is gentle but his gaze is unflinching. 

You try to hold it as you shake your head. “I’m still clean.” The words seem to take more air than they should. Your guilt and embarrassment are enough to choke on. “I promise.” 

Spencer nods. “I believe you.” 

His eyes don’t so much as twitch down to your covered thighs. Relief like a cool breeze passes through you. It’s no small thing, his trust in you. Not after you’d gone so far out of your way to hide the evidence of your hurt from him before. 

“But it’s still related to that, isn’t it?” He lifts his glass, taking a sip before wiping the corner of his mouth. You almost smile, picturing your boyfriend in an interrogation room asking questions with this same gentle tone and wide open, curious expression. You don’t think Spencer could ever be harsh. 

“Yeah,” you say. What felt like something private and humiliating a minute before you suddenly want to share with him. Spencer tends to have that effect on you; he makes divulging your most gut-twisting secrets feel natural and easy. “My scars just haven’t gone away. I don’t really want to see them.” 

Spencer’s mouth pinches. “You know they won’t ever fully go away, right?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh, but it doesn’t feel like letting anything out. “I know.” 

“They will probably fade, though.” His fingers circle your ankle loosely, calluses skimming softly over your achilles tendon. “Is it that you don’t want to see them, or you don’t want me to?” 

You rub your lips together. Shrug. “Both, I guess.” 

He tilts his head. Like your answer is expected, but nonetheless perplexing. “I don’t care if I see them,” he says. His hand coasts up your leg, over the fabric of your pants, until he grasps it by your knee. “Can I?” 

You nod. You know he’d let it go if you said no, but it’s not worth begrudging him. “Sure.” 

Spencer brings both hands to the fabric at your hips, and you lift your bum up off the couch as he pulls downwards. Your legs are happy to breathe, the cool air coming out of the vent even nicer than you’d thought it would be. Spencer keeps going until your pajama pants are balled up underneath your feet. 

“You really were hot,” he says. It’s neither teasing nor gloating, a simple statement of fact. His fingers come to rest at your ankle again, and it’s the only kind of warmth you’ll allow. “Is it actually worth it?” 

You look down at your thighs. Your skin feels better than it had covered up, but it’s also a physical reminder of things you’d rather forget. “I don’t know,” you reply. 

“I understand why you don’t like them,” Spencer says. When you look up, you expect him to be as stuck on your scars as you are, but he’s looking at your face. His stare is calm and unmoving, like they don’t command his attention the way they do yours. “But I think they may be with you for a while. It might help to start trying to get used to them.” 

You blow out a breath. “I want to.” 

“I know,” he says. Easily, the way he’d said I believe you. And you think that he probably does know. Spencer has things from his past he can’t fully leave behind, too. 

His forefinger moves slowly up and down the back of your ankle, an absentminded gesture for him and a comfort for you. Slowly, his eyes dip down to your legs. You fight the urge to squirm and hide. 

“You know,” he muses, “there’s actually one thing I sort of like about seeing them.” 

Your top lip starts to curl automatically, your brows pulling together. “What?” 

“Just, that they’re old.” Spencer seems not to have noticed your reaction. His gaze is contemplative. “I mean, it’s not that I’m looking for them all the time or anything, but it’s nice to see them and know there aren’t going to be any new ones. These ones will fade, and then that will be it.” 

Something new clogs your throat. It’s just as heavy as before, but far kinder. 

Spencer looks up at you. He looks sheepish, the corner of his mouth uptilted self-consciously. “Sorry, it’s a weird line of thinking. I don’t want you to think I’m always checking on them.”

“No,” you swallow, “I get it. That’s nice, Spence.” 

He shrugs. “It’s the truth.” 

You could almost laugh. He makes things so simple. “I’ll change into shorts.” 

“You don’t have to,” he says. “If you’re already cooling off.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You keep your voice light, grinning at him as you shuffle over to straddle his lap. His fingers brush over a couple of the lines on your thigh as he brings them around your back, and the sensation doesn’t make you feel as shuddery as usual. You hug him with your arms around his neck. “You’re cool with me just staying like this then? No pants?” 

“Not if you don’t want to wear them,” he says agreeably. 

You laugh and hug him harder. “Thanks,” you tell him sincerely. 

Spencer only makes a soft dismissive sound as he hugs you back. 

[luimagines]

The Legendary Mermaid

Another commission!

They asked for a Legend and Reader where mermaids are involved. I'd explain more but I don't want to spoil it. XD

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Link didn’t think much of you at first. You were clumsy. Uncoordinated. One of the most ungraceful beings he has ever had the… um... pleasure to meet.

You spoke in broken Hylian but he could understand you well enough. When he stumbled into you on the beach he tried to go through the number of languages that he knew were native to the area but none of them seemed to click with you.

You were excitable and wobbly. You looked straight out of a ship wreck so you could have been from anywhere.

Still- Link wasn’t about to abandon you when you clearly had no idea where you were.

He took you into his village, set you up with a place to stay with some helpful neighbors and thought that his duty of care was done. He was wrong.

Turns out! You had a habit of running off in the middle of the day and going off to who knows where. The first time it happened, poor Gulley was in a tizzy trying not to panic because he thought you were just really good at hide and seek and he didn’t want you to miss dinner.But he couldn’t find you anywhere.

More people got involved.

They still had no idea where you went. Hours passed and the sun went down but no one had a clue where their strange and sudden visitor could have gone off to.

Link suddenly had the terrible thought that maybe you went off into the lake and something terrible happened. He ran as fast as he could but his panic happened to be unfounded.

You were there, soaking wet but otherwise unharmed, playing a small hermit crab that had somehow made it out of the water.

Link had half the mind to scold you, but your innocent giggles at the tiny creature had enough incentive to get him to calm down first. He bought you back where many of the aunties and elders fussed over you before giving you a warm bowl of soup and tucking you away for the night.

Your galavanting happened at least every other day. It didn’t take long for Link to realize that everytime you went missing, you were actually just by some body of water. 

He thought that maybe you just had a childish way of exploring. Or maybe you just liked to splash and swim. He wasn’t one to judge. He just wished you told people where you were going and when you planned to be back so no one would worry about you.

When you decided to stay in the village and interact with other humans for a change, you were like a fish out of water. 

You crashed into walls. You tripped over your own two feet. You would lose your balance at the oddest of times.

“Whoa!” Link caught you the arm before you could fall over and land face first into a pile of mud. “You know… You walk like a newborn deer.”

“What is deer?” You ask on impulse.

Link pauses and gives you a questioning look but decides to keep his judgment silent. Maybe there’s just no deer where you’re from. Somehow. Which would be strange considering how popular they are. Then again, you’ve never mentioned how you got to where they are or where you grew up. It seemed to be the only topic you actively avoided talking about.

“An animal.” Link says instead. “They have skinny legs and they begin walking on the day they’re born. The males have horns on their heads.”

“....Do they shine? Many colors?” You ask with a hopeful expression on your face.

Link hates to be the bearer of bad news, but he finds that he can’t lie to you. “Not really. They hide a lot so they look like golden grass and dried leaves.”

“Grass.” You stand up straighter, still holding onto his arm. “...Hm…”

Link has no idea how to respond to that.

“Yes.” He tries anyway. “They’re actually quite big once they’re fully grown. They’re majestic creatures.”

“Magic?” You tilt your head.

“No magic.” He shakes his head. “ Ma-ges-tic.”

“...Oh.” 

Is he going crazy or do you sound disappointed? Link swallows the spit in his throat, not sure why he feels the need to not only make you feel better, but to also impress you. “Most animals can’t do magic but they’re still very impressive. You know- if you want, we can always go into the forest and look for them. How’s that sound?”

You smile, but it doesn’t seem to reach your eyes.

Link feels his heart bob. He’s not sure if he’s doing this right. “Maybe tomorrow, yeah? After I’m done with my work in the forge, I’ll come look for you and we can go explore some more.”

Your eyes light up a little more genuinely and you nod enthusiastically to boot.

Link feels better about this suddenly.

Until tomorrow rolls around and you’re once again nowhere to be found.

Link wants to ram his head into the nearest wall. How could he forget? It was a ‘Go for a Swim Day’ today. It was part of your pattern. Did he just forget all his senses suddenly?

Groaning for the extra mileage he has to walk, he heads home first to collect some stuff for the journey. Surely you would be hungry at some point, right? Maybe he can make it a picnic too. There’s a nice spot that overlooks the valley that he knows of. You seem to be the type of person who enjoys the simple things his home has to offer.

Not only that but you seem rather focused on finding magical items. Or at least you try to find something magical in every nook and cranny. …He has a few magical items. That can impress you! He packs his magic mirror, his fire arrows and his mermaid tail. You’ll probably find a river or pond that you’d want to jump in. Since you love to swim so much, maybe he’ll join you just this once and show off a bit. Surely you’ve never seen anything like it.

Once he has everything set, he checks the nearby creek first- hoping you didn’t decide to splash around and find out.

Nothing.

Not a stone unturned and not a single piece of evidence that anyone had been here earlier. 

Link groans louder and turns on his heel to head down to the lake instead. He knows he’s being dramatic, but you’re not around to witness his pettiness, so he’s at liberty to do what he wants.

His feet are aching by the time he finally makes it to the lake. He kicks off his shoes to walk along the warm sandband before he begins his search anew. There’s not much that he thinks he has to look for. A bag? Some footprints? A discarded shirt or something? Your shoes by the side of the bank?

He finds… nothing.

“Where are you?” Link growls and flops onto the dirt. He pouts and puts his cheeks in his palms as he tries to think about what to do next. There goes his plans for the afternoon. And probably well into the evening at that. 

Link can’t help the sinking feeling of disappointment in his chest at the thought of being stood up. Not this was any big deal or anything- but he didn’t realize how much he was actually looking forward to this moment until he couldn’t have it.

Well.. He’s at the lake anyway. And he has the mermaid tail. He’ll get something for you. He can dive to the bottom of the lake and find something cool for you!

Link shimmies the tail on without a second thought and crawls into the water. The magic takes effect at once. He takes his first deep breath and pushes himself further into the cold. He feels his legs become intertwined with his item. The cold loses the sting the further he goes and although it takes a bit longer for his brain to adjust than he’d like, Link is quickly swimming deeper and deeper to where no other Hylian has gone before.

His eyes take longer to adjust. Considering he’s more worried about not forgetting that he can now breathe underwater, he’s still to ignore that little tidbit. All he has to do is swim straight down anyway.

Something moves to his left.

Link stops dead in his tracks.

“What?” He blurts. The sound he makes is warbled, broken as it always is when he tries to speak underwater.

In a split second, the figure blasts in front of him, sending him back a few feet. He brings up his arms to block any unwanted water from going up his nose and growls.

You poke his arm two seconds later.

“AH!” He screams without meaning to.

You seem just as perplexed and confused. You tilt your head and swim back just enough so that you can see him in his entirety. “Link?”

Your voice has changed too, but not quite like his does when he’s in this form. Your voice is clear as crystal and he can physically feel the waves it produces as they curl around his ears and his body.

He repeats your name with the same shocked reverence.

You break out into excited chitters and clicks, sounds he’s never heard before poke all around his body and he thinks he can feel the very effect they have on his brain.

You swim back over to him and twirl him around in earnest. You look delighted to see him here.

Link takes the moment to also look you over.

A mermaid.

He flushes when he sees more than he’s bargained for. Of course. What purpose do clothes serve to a mermaid?

You swim circles around him. The movement is graceful and borderline poetic, nothing like the way you move on land. Your tail was glittery and bejeweled with colors he hadn’t known could sparkle in the low light of the lake water. It trailed after you like a silk scarf or a skilled ribbon dancer.

He was staring.

You seemed to have caught on quickly that he was enthralled by your body. A part of you wonders why. Another feels the need to be embarrassed. You’ve dressed in the way of the finless for so long that you’ve almost adopted their shameful thinking to cover up one's form. The third and final part of you actually likes his attention. He’s impressed. Enamored, almost. This is the part of you that wins.

Smirking, you decide to metaphorically test the waters and dance around him some more, brushing your tail against his and pulling him this way and that with your dance alone. You swim away for just a second, wanting to play some more with the strange boy that can be of both worlds.

Link jolts out of the trance you’ve put him in and skips to follow you.

You laugh.

His breath catches in his throat at the sound of subtle trills and chirps. Link freezes completely in his spot. Your laugh tickles him even as he begins to sink from the lack of movement once more.

“You swim worse than a guppy.”

Link falters and the ethereal moment for him is shattered in an instant.

“Hey!” He says instead.

You laugh again, sending more pins and needles over his skin and tail and begin to swim laps around him, clearly showing off your superior swimming agility. You play with him some more, poking and annoying him but swimming away before he can retaliate and poke you back.

The game catches on from there.

Link is, unfortunately, in over his head and he has to admit proverbial defeat minutes into it. It doesn’t stop him from playing anyway. This is arguably the most free he’s ever seen you and he’s not about to ruin it anymore than his lack of grace does on its own.

It’s nice.

[fangirlika]

Hello! I don't know if you're up to writing smut (if not you can just ignore it haha), but maybe you could write something about reader not being very experienced and Charles, for teaching purposes, offers her some private lessons/tutoring, letting her do whatever she wants to him? Not in super kinky way, just getting to know his body and kind of exploring it ^^

sweet and hot at the same time, we love to see it! Loved the “for teaching purposes” hahaha Thank you for your request, I hope you like it!

Learning Hours

MASTERLIST

pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

summary: you and Charles have been friends for a long time, however, the sexual tension between the two of you was there pretty much since the beginning. It was just that Charles, in contrast to you, was a lot more experienced. Time to share the knowledge, right?

warnings: nsfw, smut, porn with a little plot lol, oral (m receiving), typos probably

a/n: I got carried away with this ahhh I hope you enjoy it

“Oh come on, Y/n!”, Charles said as he sat on your bed, his head leaning against the headboard. “When was the last time you got laid? Last weekend?”

For context, the two of you somehow ended up in a conversation about how often the other one had sex over the past year. It was a joke, a lighthearted conversation between you guys.

You and Charles had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, hence, you were comfortable with him no matter what topic you were talking about.

In Charles' case it was no secret that he had his fair share of one night stands, girls he was seeing for a longer time and also two actual relationships over the past years. You couldn’t blame any of the girls he was with, that man is too gorgeous for his own good.

You on the other hand, never participated in the so-called hook up culture. You never blamed anyone who did, in fact you couldn’t care less, but you never felt comfortable enough to just go home with someone after a night-out or to meet someone online.

You’re not a virgin though. No, you had that one boyfriend, he later turned out to be a total douche, but for the time being, he was good enough to show you the basics in bed - never something crazy or actually anything but boring missionary sex where you’ve almost never really gotten off.

Sometimes, your inexperience made you a little shy and talking about your sex life has never been a preferred topic for you. So you just scoffed in fake annoyance and replied: “Sure, and I assume that you just came back from yet another poor girl's house?”

Charles put his hand over his heart to feign hurt. “Wow, ma chérie, that was personal”, he said but couldn’t help but chuckle a little. But then he looked at you again and the look on his face was nothing but curious. “But seriously, when was the last time? You never went home with someone after we went out together and as far as I know there are no dating apps on your phone…”, he thought out loud.

You didn’t like where this conversation was going. The last thing you wanted this afternoon was to admit to your guy best friend that you haven’t gone further than kissing a guy at a bar ever since you broke up with your ex-boyfriend, Charles never liked him anyways.

“So?”, you simply replied and tried to look as indifferent to the conversation as you possibly could.

Charles seemed to be able to connect the dots on his own, one could practically see the gears turning inside his head. “You’re telling me you haven’t had any sex since that excuse of a boyfriend?” Charles looked almost shocked.

You just rolled your eyes, really wanting to end this conversation. “I never told you anything like that”, you hugged out in annoyance.

“But, I’m right, am I not?”, Charles said, now there was a cocky grin on his face which just annoyed you even more. Of course he would find humor in this. It’s not to humiliate you, you know that, but between you two and also Pierre and some other friends teasing comments like these were very common.

You don’t know why but today you did not want to be on the receiving end of these remarks. “Okay, you are”, you said and moved your eyes down to the strings of your hoodie you were absentmindedly playing around with. “Are you happy now?”

Charles immediately noticed the shift from your relaxed and sarcastic state to seeming uncomfortable in the situation you two were in. Quickly, he stumbled out an apology: “N-no, I didn’t mean it like that. There is nothing wrong with not doing it often, nothing wrong with being inexperienced or… or-“

“Just drop it, Charles”, you sighed. “I know that I could go home with someone when we go out, but quite frankly, I don’t really want to.”

“That is fine! There is no shame in that, really, please, I didn’t want to make you feel bad about yourself”, Charles continued to ramble. He always did that when he was nervous or embarrassed, you couldn’t deny that it was kind of cute.

“No, it’s not that. I think it’s just that my inexperience keeps me from doing it, or something like that”, you said quietly.

“How does that make sense?”, Charles asked in confusion but put his hand up in defense when he saw your annoyed glance at him.

“I don’t know…”, you danced around the answer. “My ex and I we never really did anything… new in bed.” It took everything in you to admit the truth to Charles. “I guess I just don’t want to embarrass myself when I’d actually end up in bed with someone…”

Charles listened attentively and turned his head to look at you with a smile. You still avoided his gaze and casted your eyes downwards but he still noticed the faint reddening of your cheeks. God, you were so cute.

“You can practice on me if you want.”

Your eyes widened and you abruptly turned your head to look at Charles. “What?”

Charles didn’t really think before he said it. It just came to his mind. But when he took a second to actually think about it, he just shrugged. “Why not? We have know each other forever and I promise you won’t embarrass yourself.”

You also thought about it. Was it really a good idea? Definitely not. But then again, why not try it?

“I don’t know, Charles…”, you sighed. “I wouldn’t want it to ruin our friendship, you know?”

Charles nodded understandingly. It was the last thing he wanted as well. He knew it was a thin line they were moving on but if it could help her, he would do anything. “It doesn’t have to”, he said. “We only go as far as you are comfortable with, nothing more.”

You listened and nodded slowly.

“It’s only for learning purposes”, he smirked and when you saw his face you couldn’t help but smile too, shaking your head a little. This was insane, wasn’t it?

“I’ll teach you how to make a man feel good and you can try anything as well, okay?”, Charles searched your eyes for permission.

“Okay”, you whispered and looked him in the eyes.

The two of you stared at each other for a long time but then Charles slowly leaned his head forward into your direction. He held his gaze onto yours as to look out for any sign of hesitation from you.

But there was none. So, he closed his eyes and when his lips were just mere centimetres away from yours he stopped for a second. You on the other hand didn’t want to wait any longer so you closed the remaining gap between you two and connected your lips.

Kissing Charles felt different from kissing any other guy you did before. And you weren’t sure if a best friend was supposed to make you feel like this with just a simple kiss.

He moved his hand to your neck and the other one around your back to pull you even closer. You obliged immediately and leaned into him.

Charles swiped his tongue over your lips and you opened them just a little bit so that he could slip his tongue into your mouth. You involuntarily moaned a little which caused Charles to smile into the kiss.

“Keep making those noises, chérie, that’s a great way to turn us on”, he teased but there was truth behind his words - he wanted to hear more of those little sounds from you.

You couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks when he said this. “Quit being a smart-ass and take your hoodie off, Leclerc.”

You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from but you somehow wanted to show him that you can make him feel good.

“Bossy, are we?”, Charles continued and only laughed a little at your warning glare. Nevertheless, he leaned away from you a little to take off his hoodie.

His next words were a little muffled because he struggled to get the hoodie over his head for a second: “Don’t worry, it’s ho-“

As he was busy taking his hoodie off he failed to notice that you were doing the same so when he threw it somewhere behind him and turned to look at you again his words got caught in his throat.

You were sitting in front of him only wearing a black bra to cover your boobs. In all of your years of friendship he has seen you wearing a bikini plenty of times and even sometimes he saw you in your underwear, but never in a context like this. He couldn’t help but stare.

You however failed to interpret his staring correctly and so you felt your insecurity rise up back again. You were about to bring your arms up and around your chest to cover up a little again but Charles immediately took ahold of your wrists.

“Non, none of that, you look beautiful”, he muttered and tried to reassure you with one of his gorgeous smiles. You were sure you would melt if he kept looking at you like that during all this.

“Can I kiss you again?”, he asked but already pulled you into him by your wrists. You simply nodded before your lips were on his again, this time a little sloppier and less sensual. But still, it knocked the air out of your lungs.

Maybe you would regret it later but there was no space in your mind to think about the consequences of your current actions right now. Everything you though or felt in this moment, was him.

Charles laid down and pulled you with him so that you were now laying on top of his upper body. You moved one of your legs over his waist so that you were straddling him. Your lips stayed connected the entire time.

The confidence came back to you as you pulled away from his lips only to press a soft kiss to his jaw, then just below his ear and a few on his neck. This wasn’t new for you but it still gave you reassurance when you heard Charles letting out a shaky breath and a quiet moan.

Charles moved his hands down your back to your hips, squeezing the skin there lightly.

“Are you okay with taking off your sweatpants, let me see you?”, he muttered when you continued to litter his neck with soft kisses.

You nodded and felt his hands make their way past the hem of your pants. You lifted your hips slightly to help him get them over your ass and down to your knees. You sat up to pull them off completely, causing you to sit on top of him in nothing but your black underwear.

The movement caused you to grind a little on his crotch, which you didn’t even take notice of until you heard him curse some word in French under his breath and felt him tighten his grip on your hips again.

“Oh, sor-“, you were about to apologise but Charles cut you off by shaking his head at you. “Don’t, it feels good but I really need you to do something about it”, he said with a smirk on his face. He tried to make you more comfortable and confident.

Charles moved his hands up your back a little to pull you down to his level again. “O-okay”, you just replied hesitantly. Charles noticed, looked at you and brought his right hand up to caress your cheek. “We can stop here if you don’t want to, continue some other time or we just forget about it but-“, you cut him off.

“No”, you said and shook your head. Smiling at him before you leaned down to his lips again. It was rough, both of you moving your lips against each other messily.

“Can I suck you off?”, you asked him between kisses, the sheer innocence in your voice making him crazy. “Shit”, he muttered under his breath, “yes, okay, yes.”

You grinned and gave his lips a quick peck before you lifted your head away from his and dragged your lips down his chest. “But, you have to guide me, I- I’ve never-“

“I got you, mon amour.”

You felt a jolt of heat rush down your body at his words. You knew Charles was sweet, he was a good guy but somehow you always thought that when it came to sex, he was more rough and rushed. But you appreciated him reassuring you.

You got off him for a moment so that he could take off his sweatpants as well. What you weren’t expecting though was that he also took off his boxers in one go, freeing his cock from its restraints. It was already semi-hard.

He was big. Were your first thoughts. Sure, you only had your ex for reference but you were pretty sure he was above average.

You looked at him briefly and he was still smiling reassuringly at you. “Start with stroking it a few times, okay?”, he said.

You nodded and did as he said. Sitting across his legs this time you bent down a little, licked your hand and loosely wrapped it around the base of his cock. You observed his reaction; another breathy moan at the contact. You moved your hand up and down once, twice, and with the third time you swiped your thumb over his tip, eliciting another shaky breath from him.

“Good?”, you just managed to ask and he nodded, “Yeah, use your mouth now, okay baby?”

You tried to ignore the nickname, amour or chérie were a regular by now but this was new. In this context, however, it really turned you on.

You hummed in agreement and slowly moved your head down to his cock, darting your tongue out to lick along the shaft.

“Keep going, use your tongue like that, yeah”, he mumbled. You did as he told you, licking up his entire length a few times before you swiped your tongue along his tip, giving it a few kitten licks.

Your shifted your gaze to look back up to him, your eyes connecting. Charles swore he could have died then and there. For a brief moment the thought of how they were supposed to go back to friends after this crossed his mind. He was unsure if he would be able to do that.

The sight of you like this in front of him sure burned itself into his mind for the rest of his being.

“Feels so good”, he moaned. When he felt your lips wrap around his tip it hit him unprepared, causing him to thrust his hips upwards a little into your mouth.

It caught you by surprise, your eyes widening for a moment. “Shit, sorry”, he started to apologise but you just continued to suck his tip a little.

“You are evil, Y/l/n”, he whispered with a smirk and you smiled back at him, as best as you could with his dick between your lips.

“Can you move down further?”, he almost pleaded. You wrapped your lips back around him and moved them down inch by inch. It wasn’t even half way in but you felt as if you’d start to gag around him if you’d go any deeper.

“So good, use your hand for the rest, if you can”, he said and moved one of his hands to your hair, gathering the strands that fell in front of your face and pushed them behind your ears.

You brought one of your hands around the base of his cock again while simultaneously continuing to take as much of his length as you could, trying to build a rhythm with your movements.

Charles leaned his head back against the headboard, the feeling of both your lips and your hand on his cock almost too much to take.

Sure, he had done this plenty of times before but for some reason this was a lot different, and much more intimate.

You didn’t stop your movements until you felt him twitch inside your mouth, causing you to look up at him through your lashes again.

“Merde, I’m close”, he muttered.

“Cum in my mouth, okay?”, you asked with a hoarse voice, pulling him out of your mouth for a moment.

Charles looked at you for confirmation. “Really?” Instead of giving him an answer you just wrapped your lips around him, sucked harshly once and then went down to take him until he almost hit the back of your throat.

Charles let out a groan and moved his hand to the back of your head, pulling on your hair slightly. This caused you to moan around him, the vibrations of it giving Charles the rest it took for him to release himself into your mouth.

You swallowed all of it without really thinking about it. You licked up his length another time before pulling off him.

Charles tried to control his breathing and when he looked at you again he smiled. “I don’t believe you when you say you never did that before”, he said with a cocky smirk back on his lips.

You let out a chuckle, not sure what to answer. It was true though, this was your first time doing that.

“Well, like I said, my ex wasn’t really experimental in bed…”, you said and looked down again. Charles sat up slightly and lifted to lay on his chest again.

“Well”, he begun as he smirked at you, “he sure missed out on something.”

You couldn’t help but smirk and shake his head at him. “You’re a menace, Leclerc.”

Charles hummed and placed one hand back on your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin there for a moment.

“I’m sure you won’t say that again after I returned the favor to you.” There was a questioning tone to his statement and you just lifted your head from his chest and raised an eyebrow.

“I guess we will have to see about that after…”

—————

Part 2 is up!

As always, feedback and reblogs are dearly appreciated <3

[christronomy]

cw : perv chan kinda, stepcest, age gap (chan is older but reader is still of legal age), groping kinda?? cheating basically (don't read this if you're uncomfortable with these topics)

been thinking about stepdad chan fucking you behind your mom's back. he'd always showed interest in you from the first time you met, but you didn't pay any mind to it. it all started off as some light banter between the two of you, until it progressed to him putting his hands on your waist whenever he walked past you, flirting with you, even getting handsy when your mom wasn't looking, even if she was in the same room. sometimes he'd grab your ass or touch your thighs, and then laugh it off when he saw you jump slightly in your spot from the unexpected contact. you never made any effort to stop him, so he took that as a green light to continue, which meant his behavior progressed even more. it's not like you wanted him to stop, though. you actually kinda wanted to know what he'd do next.

there were really no complaints about him so far—he was a pretty good looking guy (that's an understatement, he's ridiculously attractive), he was kind, always put others before himself, had an insanely attractive accent, he treated your mother so much better than your asshole of a father did, and you can't forget those pretty plump lips of his, the ones that were working on your clit not too long ago, which brings us back to the present moment.

it's not like you wanted him to stop anyways, not when he was now fucking you from behind in the laundry room, your body sprawled over the washing machine, one of his hands covering your mouth to muffle your pathetic moans while his other hand was wrapped snugly around your neck. your mom was cooking dinner in the kitchen, which was a few rooms away, but she had no idea. she was under the impression that chris had gone to shower and that you were finishing up some chores, and the loud whirring sound coming from the extractor hood was enough to cancel out any sound that came from other parts of the house. he already has you dumb on his cock in a matter of minutes, the exhilaration of possibly getting caught causing adrenaline to shoot through your veins, and the feeling of him practically splitting you open made you dizzy with excitement. not to mention the absolute filth he's spitting in your ear. "you like older men like me 'cause they're more experienced, right? they know how to use their cock to please greedy little cunts like yours."

he'll cum inside you and pull your underwear up for you, sticking the fabric up your dripping hole with his fingers to make sure not a single drop of his cum leaks out, then he'll make you sit at the dinner table without cleaning up, because nothing gets him more excited than knowing that your mom has no idea what events ensued moments before, as you sit all pretty with your legs crossed, cause you're trying your best to keep his seed inside you until dinner's over like the good girl you are for him.

[luffyvace]

☆彡PHANTOM TROUPE RELATIONSHIP HCS ☆彡

(separate)

Disclaimer: Credits to the artists!! I own none of these pictures!

I procrastinated on these for way too long.. still! Enjoy! <3 (these exclude hisoka & Kalluto)

Chrollo:

Chrollo is a lover that takes care of whom he loves!

therefore, he takes care of you!

Any hobbies you have, he’ll indulge in them with you

any supplies you need for said hobbies?

art supplies, ski gear, ice skates, computer, hiking equipment!

The list goes on

even if you never actually use the stuff he buys he doesn’t mind :)

cuz hey! He didn’t actually buy it! 🤪

chrollo will truly do anything in his power to keep you happy

and we all know power is something he certainly does have

he can buy you a luxury house and car all the way down to cuddling in the warm rays of the sunset while having a cookout

i guarantee if your upset, he’ll make you happy within the next hour

chrollo probably never learned how to love properly

but with you?? The definition of love doesn’t matter. he’s just grateful he has it.

you make him feel like he knows what he’s doing with himself in life.

he’s less lost, if I may say.

he’s found a home, in you.

Nobunaga:

nobunaga was never familiar with love and never even thought about the fact that he wasn’t interested!

but here you are simply having a conversation, chatting.

and yet even with such a simple act he feels so nervous?? While excited and happy at the same time??

he wonders why he even feels so fidgety!

your just talking!!

how on the earth are you making him act a fool like this?!

like yeah your pretty and he likes your personality and you two have the same interests plus all of your interactions have gone good…..man he really is in love huh

WHAT IS THIS SOME SAPPY ROMANCE MOVIE?

now I know it only seems like he has a crush

but you two are actually already in the relationship!!

and yes, he still gets nervous. The feeling never goes away

once he tried to ask if you still get butterflies n stuff and if you said no he was so embarrassed!!!!

seriously he brushes it off like it didn’t bother him and never brings it up again

Feitan:

feitan will probably do better with a nonchalant or sadist partner so 1) you can enjoy torturing with him or 2) you won’t care or get grossed out that he does

If your not doesn’t matter he’s still gonna anyway-

he’s not the typa dude to change for love

but that aside

he likes your quiet company

so like reading together (whether it’s two different books or not)

and reviewing to each other

learning new skills from/with each other

actually sometimes feitan teaches you cool human body facts!!

Like how brains are around 60% fat!

or that they weight 3 pounds! ;D

how cool is that?!

yes this is his tastes in topics and humor

and he only laughs if you say stuff like “gross!” Or “ew that’s disgusting!”

he will be satisfied if you find it cool too

Long story short don’t go into his library

you won’t find any books you like there unless you like what he does

Machi:

She’s an assertive domestic girlfriend

Plus she’s really caring

but caring doesn’t always mean sweet and happy all the time

while she has no problem taking care of you..

you better either get up and do some things yourself or return the favor !

She expects you to at least be able to get daily tasks done

either that or clean the whole house like she was gonna do. you choose.

your place is probably really simple yet well decorated

Not for an aesthetic but because of just general things you have

like a shoe rack, the pretty furniture and rugs, the dart board she owns, any hobby equipment you own (easel, paintings, hockey equipment, hiking equipment, etc)

it all just makes a really cozy look for your house

and yes you two definitely play darts together

she will win unapologetically and won’t hold back

she wants to genuinely see you improve so she doesn’t go easy on you

“You can’t get better by playing against somebody worse than you”

Phinks:

phinks in a relationship is literally the definition of a guy who could pull more if he was less nervous

but he obviously pulled you and that’s what matters most

he gets flustered easily but tries to hide it

(Spoiler: he fails)

phinks will try to be romantic but it’ll either get ruined by his friends crashing the date

*ahem* shal and fei 😒(😂💗)

or he’ll just be so incredibly nervous that it doesn’t go as smoothly as he planned

he thinks up these brilliant romantic scenarios in his head but can never seem to execute them 🤨😕

it’s the thought that counts 🤷‍♀️💝

he would truly be such a romantic if he could just stop freaking out

I mean don’t get me wrong it’s not like it never works

when it does, he’s excited in the moment

but as soon as it’s over he’s worrying like crazy about how he’s gonna upstage that from last time

Especially without screwing up and making a fool of himself

little does he know you love him all the same 😂

Shalnark:

is really teasing and playful so I hope your not hot headed

if your aren’t and choose to prank him back instead?

it literally becomes prank wars

at some point the pranks started a real (petty) argument

after it was settled you decided not to terrorize each other anymore

now you target the troupe with your antics! 😆

your main victim is phinks

mostly because his reaction is really funny

Plus he’s the easiest to get mad

LOL

but back to the original topic where your hot headed….

yeah the argument probably ended up happening sooner than not

although at first he doesn’t take it seriously because your always getting mad like this

then you say something that makes him realize your serious

he feels really stupid for not noticing sooner

he’ll genuinely apologize (for literally once in his life)

and direct his pranks to someone else

after that you probably end up watching the victims and find it funny too

so you still end up bonding over it 😅💖

Franklin:

Franklin is not necessarily gentle

he’s just more coolheaded than not

like the time he started fighting with uvogin in the 1999 version

like he’s chill until you say the wrong thing

but that’s just how he is in general

he never gets mad at s/o

his patience is infinity+ for you

You may have secretly tried to make him angry or at least annoyed-

but if it one day goes too far he says “stop.” with a very serious tone/look and you probably stop from there 😀

😗

otherwise if you don’t decide to test the waters from jump, Franklin doesn’t have many hobbies so he’ll literally just indulge in what you like

like it doesn’t even matter if he finds it boring

you’d never know because he’d be so supportive of you doing what you love

but it’s more likely than not he’ll enjoy a few

franklin is also decent at like every house chore ever, cooking, sweeping/cleaning for example

like he knows how to do everything, but he’s just average at it

Shizuku:

Shizuku is very forgetful

she forgets chores, how to cook certain things, favors you asked her to do

But you don’t have to worry about her forgetting things about you solely because she would never date anyone she doesn’t know enough to remember

She probably wouldn’t remember she likes you so why would she?!

Unless like she forgets how long she’s known you-

AND LIKE- MAGICALLY THINKS YALL BEEN FRIENDS FOR YEARS WHEN YALL MET 6 MONTHS AGO

That’s a writing prompt

she’d be remembering memories that never happened and everything 🤦‍♀️

But we won’t go into that here…

it’s probably low key annoying that you have to do a lot of things because she keeps forgetting

so I sure hope your patient..

“huh? You never asked me to do that..”

”no! You didn’t, I remember! you never even came in the living room!” (Her saying ‘I remember’ is ironic I know)

With a more motherly and provider mindset reader she’d do just fine

At the very least shizuku will remember your favorite things and gift you them when she can<3

isnt that sweet?!

see?? It’s not like she’s being a jerk!

she genuinely forgot!

Pakunoda:

pakunoda is wife criteria

she can do everything

she is gentle, caring and strong

she can protect and advice you

she remembers all your favorite things—everything about you!

she always cooks your favorite meals

paku loves to relax on the beach together with some wine~

she loves road trips and mini calm adventures

Take her on some!! She deserves it with all she does for you!

and you definitely do!

you guys create lots of fun and heart warming memories together

out in the grass, in the wild life, in forests, in the dessert!

she’s a great cook and a outstanding baker!! 😍😋😋

her signature dish is raspberry pie

ITS SO DELICIOUS

she makes random desserts and pastries for you as a love language

getting up to her breakfast is the best way to start your day possible

you literally can always expect a good meal with her

if you’ve been having a bad day???

at this point a bad day ain’t a bad day no more cuz you already dancing knowing she gon hook you up‼️💃🕺

Bonolenov:

bonolenov is so grateful that you act normal around him

like you have from the start, you never alienated him

before and after he took off his bandages

he can cook but others wouldn’t think so because his tribe’s traditional food is different than the norm

If you tried it and liked it he’d be overjoyed!!

He’d feel much more confident about cooking and do it for you more often

he’d low key question if your from his tribe and wonder if you’d say no to a blood test

(BRO another writing prompt!! Bonolenov finding a reader from his tribe!!)

if you didn’t like it I’m sure you let him down gently since you love him

and he gets it

maybe it was just that one dish though?

he’d want you to try a few more of different types (breakfasts, lunches, dinners, desserts and snacks) before you completely give up on it

if you truly end up not liking it he won’t be angry or anything

it simply wasn’t for you :)

he’s actually a pretty chill dude

Even more so around you

he likes to lazy around a lot and you two might cuddle often

not intentionally but like you just both end up napping together all the time

if you want he’ll teach you his tribes dances and such

as well as traditions

he’ll be impressed if you master the dances fast

(him wondering if your from his tribe again)

Even If you take a bit longer he’s patient :)

he’s open to taking off his bandages around you if your not uncomfortable

if you are that’s fine they’re pretty comfy !

Uvogin:

uvogin is very rough

I mean it’s kinda hard to be gentle at that size-

if he hurts you on accident you’ll get a brief ‘sorry’ but know it’s genuine

don’t worry it doesn’t happen often enough to be concerned

but don’t stand behind him.

you’ve learned your lesson on that….

he squashed your toes once and it was not fun

don’t get me wrong he’s not some monster

he’s just big

so he’s gotta watch out for a bunch of tiny humans you know??

okay put it like this, imagine a grown man/woman is running full speed because they’re late to work and they run into a 3 year old and knock them down

was it intentional?? No. Do they apologize and feel bad?? Yes. Is it a little funny after everything’s okay?? Also Yes.

I will say it is fun to ride on his shoulder and sit in his lap/on his leg

(another prompt could be uvogin with a s/o as big as him..)

it’s fun for him to carry you around

it’s like have a little portable buddy

that idea is kinda wholesome ☹️💗

AND DON’T FORGET HIS BIG SMOOOOOCHIES 💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

he loves you 😊

FINALLYYYYYY GOT THIS DONE💥💥

I love the troupe :) the police needs to stop hating on they’re emo band fr 🙄✋

[queen-of-the-avengers]

After So Long

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: angst

Summary: You're forced to go back to the one place you tried to hard to get away from. You're forced to contront the memories you left behind.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: protection (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

It seemed like wherever Bucky went, Steve and Sam followed. You thought it’d be nice to go shopping at your local mall with Bucky since he’d been so busy with work. You put on something cute to wear and did your hair only to feel like you’re being followed the whole time. You tried to ignore them but it was hard when you saw their black clothes in every corner.

“Does this look cute?” you asked and held up a shirt.

“On me or you?” Bucky joked.

“Ha-ha, very funny. Wait, it might look good on you.”

Bucky smiled and took the shirt while you moved to a different section of the store, the dresses. He didn’t mind holding the things you wanted to get. He’d do it forever if he knew this made you happy. It does. You liked shopping. Just not with grown men following you.

“Do they have to be here?” you sighed as you looked at the dresses.

“It’s a precaution, pisică.”

You liked the little nicknames he gave you, especially in his native tongue, Romanian.

“Because of your job?” Bucky nodded. “When are you gonna tell me what you do?”

“I’d rather stay in our little bubble a little while longer, if possible.”

“Fine, but you will have to tell me eventually.” Bucky didn’t respond to that. Once you were done with the dresses, you moved to the jewelry section. The prices in this store were outrageous and you turned to Bucky with a frown. “Are you sure we should keep shopping here? I’ve already spent enough of your money.”

“Pisică, I make more money in an hour than the one hundred grand you’re going to spend.”

“You’re spoiling me,” you grinned.

Bucky pulled you into him and placed his hands on your ass, not caring if anyone saw.

“You’re my girl. Of course, I will.”

He leaned down and kissed you and your heart swelled in happiness.

Now

You always knew Bucky would find you but you didn’t know when or where it’d happen. He truly didn’t know where you were for the first six months you were gone. After you enrolled in college, he found you. In order to apply for it, you had to use your real name which Sam caught when he was looking for you online.

Despite what you may think of him, he really does love you. He just has a weird way of showing it.

Bucky has left his men behind where you crashed your car at while his driver takes you to one of his mansions. You’ve been to almost all of them because he used to take you all around the country for the hell of it. You have a room in every single one of them.

“Pisică--”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap and look at him.

“It took a long time to find you. I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirks. He loses it when he thinks about what to ask next. “Why did you run?”

You look at him with wide eyes and a parted mouth. “Did you really just ask me that? You’re a murderer.”

“Well, that depends on how to look at it.”

“There’s no looking at it differently. You kill people. That’s murder.”

Bucky decides to change the topic because he’s not gonna get far with you accusing him of things he’s done.

“Remember how we met?” It’s incredible how this man can jump from one topic to the next. “I do. I even remember the kiss we shared. Care to hear it from my perspective?”

“Not really?”

He tells you the story anyway as if you weren't there to begin with.

Bucky met up with several potential business partners that he thought would benefit him and his company. He’s one of the biggest mafia bosses this country has ever seen and having allies is much better than having enemies. He controls the weapons market, the communication sector, and most of the casinos across the country. These men would give him access to most of the drug trading posts if they’d only get their heads out of their asses and agree to his terms.

He doesn’t let the storm outside prevent him from doing business which is why he took this little meeting to one of the most expensive and high-end restaurants in town. The owner knows him and always gives him a good deal.

“Ma’am! You can’t just run in here!”

Bucky looks up and locks eyes with the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen before. Granted, she’s soaking wet from the rain outside. She looks fearful as if she’s running from someone. For some reason, Bucky would kill anyone who ever made her feel unsafe, and he doesn’t even know her.

She looks back outside and runs further into the restaurant, ignoring the calls from the hostess. She runs right over to him and interrupts the meeting he carefully set up without a care in the world. There’s panic in her eyes. She’s afraid. If only she knew who he was.

“I’m so sorry. Please play along.”

A man comes into the restaurant just as soaked as she is but Bucky doesn’t have time to react. She sits on his lap and kisses him desperately. He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off his lap and kisses her back. She is getting his nice suit wet but he doesn’t care. This kiss not only screams ‘I’m desperate’ but it screams ‘I need help’. The men Bucky is with chuckle but he tunes them out.

“Sir!”

Bucky can only assume the man had left the restaurant. His mysterious lover tries to pull away from him but he pulls her in closer and continues to kiss her. Only when he is satisfied does he finally let her go. She turns to check that the man isn’t there anymore and visually relaxes.

“I am so sorry.”

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t let me leave and I only managed to get away from him.” something comes over her face and she backs away in embarrassment. “God, that was so rude of me. I don’t know you. Thank you for that. Again, I’m really sorry I interrupted your dinner.”

She leaves the table and checks to make sure her ex isn’t outside looking for her. Once she feels she’s safe, she runs back outside into the pouring rain. Bucky clears his throat and takes out his phone so he can call one of his trusted men. He has Sam working on something in another state so Steve is who he calls.

“Boss?”

“Did you see her run out?”

“Yes.”

“Follow her. Find out about the boyfriend.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bucky gets off the phone and returns to his meeting like nothing happened.

“You came in there dripping wet. You came over to me and kissed me. Do you remember that kiss? How desperate you were for it?” During his storytelling, Bucky pulled you closer to him and slid his hand in your hair. His hand is so big that he can cup the side of your head and still run his thumb over your bottom lip. “Do you remember the taste of my lips on yours?”

“I will never kiss you again much less do anything more than that.”

You push him away and he smirks in amusement. He keeps his hands to himself for the rest of the ride. His mansion is like the one in New York just with more acres. He has the ultimate dream house fit with anything you can think of. Pools, spas, theaters, sports courts, and a ton more.

You dread coming back here not because it reminds you of Bucky but because it reminds you of the good times you had with him. The times from before you knew what he did for work.

You’re escorted inside his mansion and taken to a room with Steve. It’s like you’re being placed on time out because Steve stands by the door as if he isn’t allowed to let you leave.

“Ai grijă la ea, e foarte drăguță, dar e o fire plină de luptă. Ea nu iese din casă.”

Watch out for her, she’s real pretty but she’s a feisty one. She doesn’t leave the house.

Bucky keeps eye contact with you the whole time before leaving the room. Your blood boils.

“Ești un laș care se ascunde în spatele unei armate de oameni!”

You’re a coward who hides behind an army of men!

Bucky doesn’t bat an eye at your words. He’s the one who taught you Romanian, now you’re using it against him.

“I’m leaving,” you say to Steve and storm to the door.

Steve lets you out of the room knowing there are guards posted at every door to prevent you from leaving the mansion. Sam stands at the front door so he must be done cleaning the crash of your car. 

“Sorry, you can’t leave. Bosses’ order,” Sam says and stops you from leaving.

Instead of standing here arguing with him, you figured you get this over with. Your room hasn’t been touched since you left, and you can only assume your other rooms in the other mansions haven’t been touched either. This room is filled with so many good memories of you and Bucky. You hate that you’re looking at them now with such disdain.

Bucky was never one for pictures so the ones he did take were inappropriate to post anywhere. He thought it was funny to print them out and frame them for your room to always remind you who you belong to. Maybe you still do. Maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of how you feel anymore.

It hurts to look at them because you still love him. You’re so damn in love with him and it hurts because you thought you’d never love a murderer.

Bucky returns to the house hours later, well into the night. He finds you asleep in your own bed with dried tears on your cheeks. He looks at the pictures on the dresser and yanks his tie off angrily. He makes sure to be quiet as he walks over to you.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

He kisses your forehead before leaving your room. God, he wishes things were different. He hates seeing you in pain.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[chelseeebe]

promise.

eddie knows about covering bruises and pretending to be fine all too well. but can he save the one woman he thinks he’s ever loved?

a/n: ok i’ve been a bit shit the last few weeks and this is genuinely the only thing i could conjure up but forewarning, it is sad and it does mention some pretty heavy topics that i know aren’t for everyone so i completely understand if u don’t want to read! my adhd riddled brain has already started a part two which does have a happy ending

title based on promise - ben howard i just thought it was a really lovely song and fits well with part two

read part two here.

18+. mdni! mentions of domestic violence, not explicitly described but the injuries are there and it is referred to multiple times throughout (eddie is not the perpetrator). smut. v much hurt/no comfort but not for long.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

eddie is positively wrecked.

who would have ever guessed working in a shoddy, run-down bar would be so fucking tiring?

graham had said that if he picked up a few shifts at the hideout a week, then corroded coffin could play once a month. a guaranteed slot and he got paid? this was like heaven to him.

he just hadn’t expected the little bar to be so exhausting. he supposes that his lack of work experience and the fact he was used to doing sweet fuck all most of the time was to blame. that’s not his fault. not really. after finally graduating high school a year or so ago, he just hadn’t found any work in the tiny town.

on one particularly boring mid-week shift, eddie’s sat behind the bar doodling on the back of an old receipt, tapping his foot along to the kiss tune playing on the stereo. wouldn’t be his first choice but he’s not complaining.

‘you coming for a smoke?’ you exclaim suddenly, causing his head to jolt up, running the biro over his shitty drawing, ruining it completely.

‘uh.. then who would be on the bar?’ he utters, quickly hiding the doodle before you could judge it. not that he thinks you would, but just in case.

‘eddie, it’s dead,’ you say flatly, looking around at the empty tables.

truth be told, he hadn’t seen another soul bar from you and graham since he’d arrived which was odd for a thursday. assuming that the usual bums that lined the dusty old stools were otherwise engaged today. that or they just hadn’t been paid yet.

‘oh.. yeah, okay,’ he nods, hopping down from the stool and grabbing his jacket. you’re already gone, bounding off down the hall to the fire exit you all used for smoke breaks.

eddie’s still fairly new and very rarely got invited on the group breaks. which was fine, he just wished that you’d all take it in turns so that he could smoke too. he gets it though, like he talks enough but yet not enough to really make friends with any of you.

you’re leaning back against the brick wall, cigarette hanging from your lips, ‘you got a lighter?’

it’s not like he’d been staring or thought about it that much, but he’d noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were on his second shift. okay, maybe that’s a lie. he’d thought about it a lot. but anyway, he’d been utterly in awe at the way you handled the drunks, brushed off their creepy comments and stood your ground no matter how angry or persistent they were being. he admired that and just wished that he had even a smidgen of the confidence you had.

he fumbles in his pocket for the lighter, clumsily handing it over before getting his own pack out. it feels wrong to look you in the eye, god that sounded pathetic. you were older, far cooler than he was and positively stunning. if he remembers correctly, you must’ve been a couple grades above him at school but had left long before he graduated.

‘thanks,’ passing the lighter back to him, fingers ever so slightly brushing against his. it’s like electricity sparks through his veins.

he really needs to get a grip.

‘you enjoyin’ it here?’ you ask, eyes intimidating as they bore into his.

‘it’s okay.. tiring though,’ he shrugs, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact despite his inability to look pretty girls in the eye.

‘yeah.. you’ll get used to it,’ you chuckle, the smoke flowing out of your lips perfectly. he’s so pathetically down bad for you and you have literally no idea.

‘how long have you worked here?’ longing to keep the conversation flowing.

‘shit.. too long,’ chuckling as you take another drag. eddie could listen to that sound all day. ‘i think i was eighteen when i started so..’ pretending to count on your fingers, ‘six years?’

eddie blows the air out of cheeks, he’s probably be in a similar position if he’d have just graduated when he was supposed to so he can’t exactly pass judgement.

‘i think we went to school together, i mean, you were a couple grades above me but i remember you,’ hoping that that didn’t sound as creepy out loud like it did in his head.

‘oh shit, really?’ your eyes narrow, trying to place him though it’s obviously not going to happen, ‘i don’t remember you.. i’m so sorry,’ playfully hitting his arm.

the connection is enough to keep his delusions going for at least another month.

‘it’s fine, didn’t think you would,’ not many people did to be honest. he tosses his cigarette into the overflowing makeshift ashtray, waiting for you to lead the way back inside.

‘hey, it was a long time ago, i’m old now!’ you joke, walking back through the dim hall back to the bar. he tries his hardest not to let his gaze slip to you ass but he swears it’s only for a second.

the bar’s still dead, the stereo now blaring out some madonna tune he hated.

‘ugh.. turn this one off,’ he mutters, mostly to himself as he repositions himself back on his perch.

‘what?’

‘i hate this song.’

your jaw drops in faux-offence, ‘i made this mixtape you asshole,’ going to shove him off of the stool, ‘i can’t believe you can’t drop the cool guy act for one second to appreciate some madonna,’ laughing as you start collecting glasses.

his frown turns into an immediate grin, begging for your forgiveness as he starts to bop his head along to the beat. it’s not like anyone would see him and hell, even if they did, he didn’t care. not if it made you smile.

-

‘holy fuck, you been fightin’ with the door again?’ james remarks, pulling eddie’s eyes from his paper to spot you rushing into the bar.

your head is ducked, flashing the older man your middle finger, disappearing into the back before eddie can properly get a glimpse of your face.

but he knows.

there’d been a handful of times that you’d come in wearing a massive sweater instead of your usual low-cut tops and when you reached for something high up, the sleeve would reveal just enough for him to see the dark blue marks on your wrist.

he’d never been sure, not until now. but his stomach drops the second his brain puts two and two together.

ditching the paper and that asshole james behind the bar to slink off into the back, approaching the tiny staff room with the upmost caution. it’d never be wise to start throwing accusations around but he’s not stupid. eddie had watching his mom go through the exact same shit for years. knew all the tricks in the book to cover up bruises, cried his heart out every time his mom went back to his asshole dad.

only god knows how many times he’d planned out his fathers death. anger brimming in his tiny body the second he heard raised voices.

he knocks gently on the door, watching as you hurriedly wipe the makeup onto your eye. it’s not doing much, in fact, it’s not doing anything at all. the purple shining through undeniably.

‘you okay?’ practically whispering as he enters the room, knocking the door shut behind him. james’ comment had meant that this obviously wasn’t the first time you’d come into work with such horrid markings.

you sigh, giving up on attempting to cover it, slamming the metallic compact back into your locker. ‘i’m okay.. i’m fine,’ refusing to turn and face him.

you’re obviously not okay and it hurts eddie to know that there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. instead, he takes a seat on the communal bench, if nothing else, he’d lend his ear for whatever story you wanted to tell him.

‘what happened?’ he dares to ask, not expecting to know the truth but it felt better than silence.

you sniff, closing your locker and finally facing him head on. there’s pain and guilt wracked all over your face, ‘i’m just.. clumsy,’ shoulders slumping, ‘i tripped..’

‘clumsy?’

you were anything but. eddie had watched you balance trays full of glasses without spilling a single drop. maybe other people bought your story but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

there’s a short silence and eddie shuffles, patting the empty space beside him, ‘you don’t have to lie to me.’ he swallows his anger, lets it rest in his stomach for a later date. there’s no doubt that if he got the opportunity, he’d kill the asshole that did this to you.

you swallow, reluctantly perching on the bench, ‘why are you even asking when you already know?’ not quite meeting his eyes, staring off somewhere into the distance.

‘i don’t know.. didn’t wanna pressure you..’ he’s familiar with the whole routine. the denial from his mother had broken his heart at such a young age even though he wasn’t stupid.

you blink, meeting his eyes for the first time, ‘he didn’t mean to.. was my fault,’ wiping the back of your hand against your sodden cheeks.

even hearing the words makes him inexplicably frustrated. not with you of course, but with the fact that you can’t see how much you don’t deserve that.

‘i don’t think you could do anything to deserve that,’ motioning towards your blackened eye. he’s not going to push it but he needs you to know that he’s here and would quite happily wrap his hands around that bastards neck.

‘you know.. my dad used to hit my mom,’ swallowing the large lump that had gathered in his throat, but finds enough strength to continue, ‘she was the nicest lady in the world.. she didn’t deserve that and neither do you,’ licking his suddenly parched lips. it wasn’t an easy topic then and it certainly isn’t now.

he’s not particularly ever open about what happened to his mom but if it convinced you even a tiny bit to leave him, it’d be worth it.

there’s a beat, followed by a muffled sniff but you’re nodding, staring down at the grimy tiles rather than his face. eddie reckons that he’d be overstepping his mark if he did what he wanted and leant over to hug you. so he doesn’t. putting a sympathetic hand on your shoulder instead.

‘you’re an angel, you know that?’ the hints of a smile creeping onto your lips.

‘yeah i know,’ he scoffs, bashing his shoulder into yours, only gently.

‘shut up,’ knocking him straight back.

you get up from the bench, puffing your cheeks out as you take one last look into the mirror.

it’s a gut-wrenching, awful sight and god forbid eddie has to ever see you like that again.

-

perhaps rather naively, eddie assumes everything is fine for the next few weeks.

understandably, you’re a bit subdued for a few days but you do revert back to your usual bubbly self come friday evening. no more bruises, no more groaning when you change the keg and absolutely zero mention of your wretched boyfriend.

so when he pulls into his gravel driveway one gloomy saturday night, he’s aghast to see you perched on his trailer steps. blinking through his headlights, soaked through from the rain with a busted lip and a torn shirt to match.

he near enough launches himself from his van, rushing over to your hunched over frame. damn near falling over his feet to get to you.

‘what the hell happened?’

you stand, clinging onto your poorly packed rucksack, ‘i.. i didn’t know where else to go,’ utterly defeated, any traces of life drained from your face.

he doesn’t say another word, bundling you into the trailer, slamming the lights on to get a proper look of you. his hands firmly on your drenched shoulders as he examines your injuries. your lip is cracked, the blood had wept from the cut and dried on your chin.

it’s awful. knocks him sick just to see you like this. your cheeks are stained with a mixture of rain and he presumes tears, hair hanging limp around your beautiful face.

‘what happened?’ he says softly, studying your face. he notices the small gash on your forehead, using everything within himself not to storm out of that door in a murderous rage.

your mouth opens but no words come out. it’s not as if he can’t put two and two together, he just doesn’t understand how it got to this point after last week.

‘it’s okay.. c’mon let’s get you out of these clothes,’ he blinks, collecting himself before taking your sopping wet bag. the clothes had all suffered in the downpour, damp and unwearable.

so he leads you into his cramped room, hastily rummaging through his drawers for something you can wear.

it’s a little self-indulgent and completely the wrong time but his heart flutters when you reappear out of the bathroom sporting his tee and a pair of old gym shorts. now showered and without the blood stains on your face, it’s a welcome sight.

‘better?’ he offers, though he knows a shower could never really help.

you nod, pulling the sleeves down over your hands. it’s so adorable and eddie seriously has to fight his compulsion to just pull you into his arms. he knows there’s no way he can protect you from everything but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

‘you want a drink? beer?’

your eyes light up, a minuscule smirk appearing on your battered lips. he’s sure wayne would understand why he came home to a non-existent six pack. the berating would be worth it to see you smile again.

he collapses onto the couch next to you, beer in hand as he watches you slowly relax. delighted that he could offer a safe space for you, even if it did come with some very complicated feelings.

that night, admittedly very creepily, he watches as you sleep. terrified to fall asleep in his makeshift bed on the floor in case you needed him.

-

at some point in the last two weeks, eddie had gone from sleeping on the floor to sleeping in his bed next to you. you’d told him it was far too cold for him on the floor and he should just get in. which he did, with great pleasure. there was nothing to it of course, but a few times he’d woken up to your leg entangled with his or your face pressed against his back.

everything had just got a whole lot more comfortable. rides to work, cooking for one another and some shared looks that he’d been unable to put his finger on. not wanting to believe they had any deeper meaning but at the same time, he knew that that wasn’t how friends looked at each other.

it’s a rare night you both have off, sat in the trailer watching halloween, neither of you really interested in what’s going on on the screen. there’s an inexplicable tension in the air tonight, you’re quieter than usual which eddie doesn’t like.

‘you okay?’ he dares to ask. he’d felt a little overbearing those first few days, constantly checking on you to make sure you were okay.

‘hmm? oh, i’m okay,’ setting your bottle of beer on the table, ending up much closer to him when you sit back.

‘you sure? you’re quiet,’ keen not to let on that he was absolutely buzzing about your close proximity.

‘just thinking.’

‘about?’

you let out a soft breath, twisting around to look at him fully. the only times he’d been this close to you were in bed where he laid and listened to your soft snores and when you’d been covered in injuries. neither one were exceptionally great circumstances.

‘you,’ you blink up at him, smiling just enough to make his heart skip a beat.

‘me?’ he can’t decipher whether that’s a good thing or not.

‘mhm.’

‘what about me?’

you don’t respond for what feels like an eternity but your gaze lowers, glancing at his lips and back to his eyes. if he weren’t staring directly into your bright eyes, he’d have missed it.

‘i really want to kiss you,’ you say, so brazenly that eddie’s not quite sure if he’s heard you correctly, almost sputtering on his breath as the words process.

‘you.. you wanna kiss me?’ trying hard not to sound so astounded. pretty girls didn’t want to kiss eddie, not like this.

you nod, ‘can i?’

there are stars in his eyes, blood pumping around his limbs at an alarming rate. his head is fuzzy and if he weren’t sitting, he’d probably have fainted.

‘please,’ he chokes, desperately forcing the word out before it becomes impossible.

your palms are soft as they caress his cheek, wishing that he’d shaved before this had unfolded. his heartbeat stutters, bubbling with anticipation as you lean in, gentle lips locking onto his as his eyes flutter shut.

this is it. he’d dreamt of kissing you for weeks, practiced on his hand an embarrassing amount of times and yet still nothing could’ve prepared him for how earth shattering this felt. his heart is practically jumping out of his chest and he’s sure you can feel it thumping against yours.

it’s as if fate had bought the two of you together, moving against each other in perfect harmony. if he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.

your hand creeps down onto his chest, holding yourself upright as you shift onto your knees. do you want to have sex with him? is this actually happening? his fingertips vibrate as they connect with your waist, like you weren’t even real and just a figment of his overactive imagination.

the second your lips part from his, he wants to cry, pull you back in and never let go. the absence of contact makes him whine, opening his eyes to see yours gazing back, they look different. different to how you’ve ever looked at him before, full of something unspeakable.

‘do you want to?’ you ask quietly into the minimal space between you.

eddie wants to so bad, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. nodding hurriedly to let you know just how eager he is. there’s not a chance in hell he’d let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

your lips twitch into a smile at his permission, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt.

but before you get any further, the trailer door clicks open and wayne is stood in the doorway, pizza box in hand accompanying his unimpressed scowl. ‘okay well, i think that’s enough of that,’ he grumbles, shuffling into the trailer as you climb off eddie’s lap, back into your own spot.

‘sorry wayne.. i didn’t know you were back so early,’ his cheeks burning, bashful as ever. it wasn’t enough for wayne to walk in on that but he was always now straining against his jeans, trying desperately to hide the tent while you reshuffle, pulling your shorts back down to a more appropriate length.

‘yeah yeah whatever,’ his uncle shakes his head, trundling over to the couch and tossing the box onto the cluttered coffee table, ‘move over boy, i wanna watch my programme,’ collapsing into the empty seat beside his nephew with a deep, guttural sigh.

the two of you share a sly smirk, tuning in to whatever shit wayne had put on without saying another word. stifling your laughter with a piece of pizza as eddie tries and fails to discretely pull a pillow onto his lap.

it’s hours later when you both crawl into bed and eddie has checked five times that wayne’s actually asleep before he gets to kiss you again.

bundled up under the covers when you pull him on top of you, your face gloriously basked in the bright moonlight shining in. it’s breathtaking.

‘you want to?’ you ask again, as if his answer had changed in those few hours.

he nods, his curls brushing fall down and brush against your cheek, ‘have you.. before?’ you ask cautiously. he’s not offended, even if he should be.

he has had sex before. only twice. when ellen had first joined hellfire, they had sorta had a year long fling which had ended after they had sex and ellen realised that maybe she didn’t actually like men. that was a super boost to his confidence. and then at senior prom when tina took great pity on him and somehow they ended up having sex in the back of his van.

he nods anyway, granted he’s not the most experienced but he’ll sure as hell try.

‘good,’ you smile, warm thighs wrapping around his torso as you reconnect your lips. it’s soft, gentle even. world’s apart from his previous encounters. this felt real, like you weren’t just kissing because you had to but because you wanted to.

it’s too cold in the trailer to care about removing your clothes, though he’s sure that’ll change in a minute. focussing on getting his tongue inside of your mouth, rutting against your pajama shorts. the friction causing his already semi-hard dick to rise, unable to contain the moan from escaping.

a smirk flashes across his face as his hand drags your shorts down your legs, savouring every moment of being able to touch your bare, supple skin. his hand makes its way back up your legs, repositioning the one he could grasp back around his lower back.

he has trouble getting his boxers down, too excited to focus on being smooth about it. appreciating the feel of your hand tugging the fabric down. you’re barely kissing at this point, your lips connecting with the corner of his mouth, all messy as the anticipation takes over.

‘you sure?’ he asks, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. he could just about remember what to do. sending a quick prayer upstairs to not let him be utterly useless.

‘i’m sure,’ you breathe, the feel of your fingers tangled into the hair that covered the back of his neck.

‘okay..’ he nods, mostly to himself as he wraps a head around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. taking a brief moment to just capture this moment in preparation of it never happening again.

the pleasure overcomes his body as he slides in, already almost losing himself as he fills you up. a soft moan escapes your lips, gripping onto his neck. he is acutely aware that his uncle is asleep on the other side of the old trailer so he muffles his face into your neck, lips connecting with your jaw bone, kissing any and every bit of skin exposed to him.

sex had never felt like this before. at best, it had felt slightly better than when he jerked off, but this was something else. eddie knows it’s cliche and is definitely only because you feel so fucking good around him, but it’s as if you were made for each other.

hands pressed into the pillow so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were a permanent dent either side of your head. using everything within himself not to start hollering, eyes fluttering shut against your neck. he moves in and out at an agonisingly slow pace. the small room filling with the sounds of your soaking wet cunt. its undeniable to anyone with ears and he just hopes to god that wayne is still asleep.

his own low groans vibrating against your cheek, mouth hanging open as his thrusts grow faster. you’re panting softly directly into his ear, spurring him on. despite the feel of your perfect cunt around him, the best feeling is knowing that he’s making you feel good.

‘h-holy shit,’ he mumbles nonsensically into the crook of your neck, not allowing himself to come for air because he know that the second he looks at your face, he’ll cum.

your one hand is splayed out on his upper back, the other holding onto his sweaty neck beneath his mop of hair. whining his name into his ear, driving him into a frenzy with the sound of your breathy voice, desire rippling through your moans. he should tell you to be quiet but that’d be cruel and he’d rather take the shame of wayne knowing than not hearing you.

your legs shift higher the position allowing him to reach the golden spot, nudging the soft, spongy spot over and over. eddie figures you’re far more experienced than he is. with no offence meant to you but you obviously know what works. this is new territory for him, a closeness that he’d never known possible.

you’re engulfing him completely, every single one of his senses encompassed by you. you’re all he can see even with his eyes screwed shut, all he can hear, taste and smell. god knows you’re all he can feel, calves squeezing around his back and your perfect pussy tightening around him.

he groans, feeling his stomach begin to twist in that all too familiar feeling. orgasms had never felt so good, it’s like everything was dialled up to level ten. ‘i’m gonna.. shit- i’m gonna come,’ he babbles far too loudly.

every noise tumbling out of your mouth was pulling him closer, no record could ever come close to the sweet mewls that were slipping between your lips. his arms begin to tremble under his own weight. feeling your legs quivering around his waist as your orgasm begins to overtake your body, sinful noises echoing around the otherwise quiet trailer.

‘ohh fuck,’ he growls, feeling your walls clenching around him, it was like he’d been pushed over the edge. the only way he can begin to describe it was otherworldly, flashes of white light illuminate his eyelids.

images of your face accompany your honeyed whimpers and he has to pull out before he explodes. spurts of his release cover his hand and admittedly the back of your thigh. if he had any semblance of control, he’d have been embarrassed but he’s not exactly sure that he’s still on planet earth.

he dares to open his eyes, watching as your chest heaves below him clinging onto his forearm with desperate fingertips. you’re looking up at him as if he’s the only person you’d ever seen. mouth slack as you regain your breath.

‘jesus christ,’ he whispers, hand resting on your angled knee as he floats back down to your planet.

eddie clambers off of the bed with a grunt, wiping a hand over his sweaty face. reaching down to grab his previously discarded towel. it wasn’t the epitome of romance but he darent to leave his room, petrified that wayne had just heard that entire encounter.

he’s a gentleman, of course, running the towel over your thigh to clean his mess. offering you a tiny shrug as if to say sorry. rather suddenly he feels rather conscious of himself, refusing to look at you as his cheeks flame.

it’s ridiculous. he’d just been buried between your legs and yet now couldn’t even look you in the fucking eyes.

before he gets up again, your hand reaches out, curling around his t-shirt. ‘stop,’ using his shirt as leverage for you to sit up.

in one quick movement, you’re placing a tiny onto his lips. a reassurance he really shouldn’t have needed but he appreciates nonetheless.

‘don’t do that,’ you hush, millimetres from his face, the shadow of his broken blinds shine upon your cheek. it hurts him to know that someone would dare look at you and want to hurt you.

if it were possible, he’d take all of your pain and carry it with him instead.

‘okay..’ he nods, resisting the urge to apologise once again.

you giggle and it sounds like the heavens have opened, pulling his body on top of yours as his bed makes an almighty squeak. if wayne wasn’t already awake, he certainly would be now.

-

eddie doesn’t know where the fuck you are.

you hadn’t come back to the trailer after work last night and now you’re nowhere to be found. you were supposed to start half an hour ago but hadn’t turned up and now his heart is pounding, mind racing at the horrific possibilities of what could’ve happened.

at first, he’d thought maybe he said something wrong? he’d just thrown out the suggestion of going to get the rest of your things and moving them in here while you got back on your feet. he hadn’t meant to push you out, god no, that was the last thing he wanted.

maybe stupidly he had presumed you wanted your own space. whatever the hell was going on between you two was so fresh, he didn’t want to even chance fucking it up.

the guilt wracks his brain, tempted to drop everything to drive around this tiny town looking for you. he’s so stupid. should’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed it while you were there.

he’s just about to tell james that he’s leaving when the door to the bar opens and a rough looking man comes through with you held tightly underneath his arm. your eyes avoiding his direction, staring at the floor as the mystery man ushers you towards the back, making himself comfortable at the bar.

eddie’s heart shatters into a million pieces, watching open mouthed as you disappear into the back.

judging by the look on james’ face, he recognises him, reluctantly pouring his beer as they engage in useless small talk.

‘thought i’d better sit in for her shift.. wouldn’t want her running off again,’ the man announces, beady eyes glaring right into his soul.

eddie knows who he is. he’d never seen him before but he could tell. they all had that sinister aura about them, like they could flip at any given moment. his dad was the same, walking on egg shells around him just in case he said the wrong thing or looked at him the wrong way.

you emerge from the staff room, still vehemently avoiding eye contact, a shell of the you he saw just yesterday. ‘hey.. you okay?’ eddie asks, but it falls flat as you walk off without so much as a look back towards him.

he can’t believe it, how you could be so different so quickly. as if the past few weeks you’d spent together had meant nothing. he can’t blame you. not really. it’s a cycle and he knows better than anyone that it takes a thousand attempts to actually break out of it.

his shoulders slump as he rushes out the back, refusing to look at that assholes face any longer. willing himself to get a grip and not jump over that bar to strangle the piece of shit right now.

a hand clamps down on his shoulder and for a brief moment he thinks he might be you until james clears his throat, shuffling on his feet behind him, ‘you can’t save her man,’ squeezing his shoulder firmly, ‘you think we haven’t tried?’

eddie sniffs, shrugging him off. he didn’t appreciate the patronising tone in which james was speaking to him.

because god knows, if he couldn’t save his mom, there’s no fucking chance he’s not saving you.

[fictionalthrill]

Forced Hand: Chapter 1 - Inescapable Past

A/N: Greetings! Here is the first chapter of my Gwayne Hightower series. Sorry for making it such a late post! Thanks to whomever takes the time to read my writing. As I mentioned yesterday on this post, this series will not be fully canon nor will it accurately follow details from the show/book. I will follow certain details but given the nature of the story, I will take many liberties. Also, I will do my best create a HoTD environment through descriptions and dialogue, but I don't expect that to be accurate either...

Also, I will now present my blog as an 18+ space given the route I plan to take with my writing. I don't plan to write anything explicitly salacious, but certain topics and themes will come up and I just want to be cautious.

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Description: Lady Y/N Blackstone is informed by her father that he intends to arrange a marriage for her... again. Meanwhile, Gwayne gets a visit from his father. WARNINGS FOR THE CHAPTER: Nothing that requires warning. Pairing: Female Reader (Lady Y/N Blackstone) x Gwayne Hightower

There were many ways in which Y/N’s day could have started. However, as she tried to indulge her morning meal, the way her day already unfolded was certainly not what she had expected.

         “I’m sorry, father, but I must refuse to this,” she said.

         “Refuse? Darling, you cannot simply refuse, this is not how things work,” he said.

         “I believe I should be allowed to refuse yet another forced marriage attempt. I do not need to be married off, I can survive on my own. I say you do not concern yourself with me and rather focus on Lorenah’s future.”

         “Y/N, you are my daughter, as is Lorenah, both your futures are of my concern.”

         “But to go through this again? I do not wish to endure all I did the first time. I would rather Lorenah’s prospects are secured, properly, so she does not suffer the same fate as me. The rest does not matter.”

         “But it does. Who shall provide for you and look after you once I am gone?” her father said, but then found himself in a cough fit. Y/N went to stand to help but he waved his hand. “I am alright.”

         “I do not need to be looked after, father. Besides, I am far from the preferred marriage age, and my prospects have long been tarnished. You know who made sure of that.”

         “You are not far from the marriage age. It might not be the ideal but—”

         “What has brought this on again, anyways? It was aunt Sesa, was it not?”        

         “Your aunt—”

         “I knew it,” she cut him off and stood up. “Any time that woman visits she takes it upon herself to intervene in our lives and you let her!”

         “Y/N.”

         “No. She intervened when you try to marry me off and we all know how that went. Then she rushed you into finding Aianna a match, and now she’s back looking to start things up again.”

         “Y/N, how can your future be ensured if I am no longer walking the earth?”

         She came closer to him and took his hand in hers. “Father, I understand you care and in caring you worry for me, but I will be fine. Besides, I’ve already spoken to Aianna, and her and Lord Corbus are more than happy to take me in, if needs be.”

         He removed his hand from hers. “You’ve discussed this with your sister?”

         “You didn’t really believe I hoped to give marriage another try did you?”

         He stared at her. “That was not for you to discuss.”

         “No? Father, it is my life, and the last time it was in someone else’s hand, I was—”

         Just then, Sesa appeared in the room. “Good morrow, Lord Blackstone. Ah, Y/N!”

         “Aunt Sesa,” Y/N grumbled as she walked away from her father.

         “Sesa, morning,” Lord Blackstone greeted.

         Sesa approached the table and took a seat.

         “I am going to see how preparations are going for Lorenah’s arrival,” Y/N said.

         “Oh, Y/N, has your father told you the news?”

         “That—”

         “I was actually discussing it with her now.”

         “Oh, there’s no need for discussion this is great news!”          “I beg to differ,” Y/N said.

         “Y/N, it is unbecoming of a lady of your age and stature to be unwed.”

         “What is unbecoming is to be engaged one day only to find out the next it is no longer so.”

         “Y/N,” her father tried to reign her in.

         “Well, yes, that is unbecoming and unfortunate. But it does not define the rest of your life. Being a spinster, however, that can stain a family name.”

         She walked towards the doors and turned to stare at her aunt Sesa. “My status has not affected this family in any way. Aianna was able to marry well and Lorenah has garnered the favor of many suitors already, all awaiting the day father accepts an offer for her hand.”

         “Y/N,” Lord Blackstone tried again.

         “This is you having nothing to do but to meddle in our lives, yet again.”

         “Y/N!”

         Her eyes landed on her father.

         “It’s alright, Lord Blackstone,” Sesa said. “I am not meddling. Like my own two daughters, you and your sisters were born to fulfill your duties. You are to marry and provide your Lord husbands with heirs to further extend the livelihood of this house. I am only trying to aid your father so that you may pursue that.”

         “Aunt Sesa, might I remind you, that I was not the one to choose this path for myself. And this time, I refuse to be humiliated again by others making decisions for me. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

         “Y/N,” her father called after her as she left the room. Sesa waved him off.

         “It is alright, Lord Blackstone. Let her decompress; give her time.”

         “I am afraid she has grown too stubborn as well hot-headed.”

         “All a result of being unwed. Which is why it is so important you find her a husband before it becomes permanent.”

         “I do not know about that, Sesa. It was not until I mentioned a husband that she lashed out in that way. The gods know what fire burns inside her since her misfortune… it’s taken her time to make peace with it all and here I am looking to drag her down the aisle again.”

         “My Lord, it is a woman’s duty to wed. While the circumstances were unforeseen and out of your control, it does not mean she must be condemned to the life of a spinster. If a lord will have her as a wife, you must not pass on the opportunity. Have you sent word?”

         “Not as of yet. I have only just considered this and, so far, she is unaccepting of the idea.”

         “She will accept it in time. As fathers and mothers, we know what is best for our children.”

         “May the gods will it so. I will make it known tomorrow.”

--

         After Blackstone finally made his plans for his daughter known, several days passed and it was enough time for word to spread. The eligibility of the daughter of one of the most prominent houses in the Veil was news that would gradually reach others. However, given said daughter was once engaged, word spread like wildfire.

         Y/N did her best to keep her mind off it, resorting to avoiding the subject and everyone in her path. That was until her sister’s arrival.

Y/N stood on the steps of the Blackstone castle watching as Lorenah exited one of the family carriages and made her towards the entrance. A smile broke on Y/N’s face as Lorenah approached her and wrapped her arms around her middle.

“Oh, how I missed you!” Y/N said.

“I missed you too, sister!” Lorenah replied.

As Y/N let go, she grabbed Lorenah’s hands, and her eyes scanned her fully. “Is that a new dress?”

“Do you like it? Aianna had it made for me.”

“It is beautiful, but not as beautiful as you are.” Y/N came at her sister’s side and draped an arm over her shoulders as she guided her in. “Come, I want you to tell me everything. From the beginning of your journey to the very end. You must be hungry.”

Just as they had made it inside, their father appeared to greet Lorenah. “My sweet little, Lorenah!” He extended his arms for her, and she left Y/N’s side to hug him.

“Father!”

Lord Blackstone chuckled as he took a step back to get a better look at his youngest daughter. “You appear taller. Or am I just getting smaller?”

“It is only because you have not seen me in some time, father.”

“Maybe so.”

Suddenly, Sesa came into the room, her arms extended, but not as an opening for a hug. “My dear, Lorenah, you have returned!”

Lorenah, stood before Sesa and curtsied. “Aunt Sesa.”

“It is good to see you again, my niece.”

          “I am glad to have returned, Aunt Sesa.”

         “Right, let us eat!” Lord Blackstone said. “The cook has prepared your favorite. Go on, it should be served soon.”

         “Thank you, father.” As Lorenah proceeded to the room, Sesa not far behind her, Y/N stood in place, contemplating whether dinner would be worth sitting through.

         “Will you be joining us, Y/N?” Lord Blackstone asked. “I am sure Lorenah would be happy if you joined us.”

         “I suppose so.” Y/N was about to strut past her father when he held her hand in his.

         “Dearest, please do not continue to be angry with me. I am only trying to do what is best for you.”

         “If that were really the case you would not choose for me to endure this again.”

         “Who will look after you when I am gone? Who will provide for you if I do not find you a husband to do so?”

         “Father, Aianna and I discussed this. They are willing to take me in.”      

         A fit of coughs broke out of him before he continued. “I do not appreciate you discussing something like this with your sister. It is not up to you to make these decisions.”

         “Father, listen to yourself. You are ill. You need me here. Lorenah, needs me here.”

         He placed a hand on her cheek. “My daughter, you are unlike no other. You have always strived to put yourself last. But this is not something you can be left behind on. Please, let us get past this.”

         “Clearly, I have no choice in the matter,” she said before she walked away from her father.

--

         As the Lord of Oldtown, Ser Gwayne Hightower did not take interest in news or happenings of the Realm unless it concerned his House or the interests of the crown. If he did not hear of it from his close advisors, he would learn of it from his father, the Hand of the King. Which is why he assumed there was something of critical importance when he was informed his father arrived.

         One of his advisors left his side as he walked over to Ser Otto. “Lord Hand, I was not aware you would be coming to Oldtown.”

         “It was not planned. We must talk,” Otto said.

         “Let us go inside then.”

         Gwayne led his father towards his study. As they stepped inside, one of the servants appeared at the door. “Shall I bring forth refreshments, my lords?”

         “No, leave us.” Otto answered. The servant bowed his head and left the two men in the study.

         “Is this a matter of the crown?” Gwayne asked.

         “No, not directly.”

         “Not directly?”

         “I received word that Lord Blackstone is once again offering the hand of one of his daughters.”

         Gwayne’s eyes snapped up to his father. Now, the courting of a lord’s daughter wasn’t something that garnered his attention. But in this instance, he couldn’t help himself.

         “And this concerns us how?”

         “It is Lady Y/N.”

         It was as Gwayne feared. Still, he kept his composure before his father, as to not reveal his disappointment. “I do not understand, father. You came all the way from King’s Landing to tell me this?”

         Otto approached his son. “Not just to tell you, but to urge you to request her hand.”

         “Request her hand?”

         “Gwayne, this is a union that could be most beneficial to our family. Lady Y/N is the eldest of Blackstone’s daughter, one of the richest and most influential families of the Riverlands.”

         “All of this I know. In fact, I can recall vying for her hand once and winning it. This was then accompanied by your disapproval which led me to call off the engagement.”

         “Gwayne you were far too young and naïve for marriage, at the time. Your duty was to Oldtown.”

         “Yes, and it continues to be so. How is this now a priority? How is this now what you want?”

         Otto took a deep breath. “Blackstone is ill. When he first learned of his illness, he made it known to some of his closest advisors, that whomever his eldest should marry, would inherit Blackstone castle, along with whatever land and fortune is left to his name. Of course, he’d leave for his other daughters and whatever descendants they produced.”

         “So, that’s the interest? The inheritance?” Gwayne stared at Otto.

         “Gwayne, do you understand the influence of the Blackstones in the Riverlands? Do you know what a marriage between our houses could bring?”

         “Why now, father? Why not let me go through with it when we were already betrothed?”

         “As I already said, Oldtown was the priority. Besides, Blackstone did not decide his intentions with his inheritance until after he learned he was ill.”

         “Did he tell you all this?”

         “No. But I have a direct source who confirmed it all.”

         Gwayne sighed. “Even if I wanted to, Lord Blackstone made it clear he wanted no business with me after what I did.”

         “Leave Blackstone, to me. Focus on Lady Y/N and winning her favor.”

         “This attempt will surely be fruitless.”

         Otto placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Trust me, we will get this union.”

         “Even if Blackstone gave us his approval, what of Lady Y/N? She surely still hates me. She will never go for the marriage.”

         “Then you charm her, pursue her. Show her you want this marriage.”

         “I respect your optimism, father. But for once, I do not see how we will be successful in this endeavor.”

         “Make sure to win her favor. The rest will come about.”

         Gwayne nodded. “Fine.”

         “We leave in the evening.”

         “The evening?”

         “The sooner we meet with Blackstone, the better our advantage.”

         “Did he not just announce this?”

         “Sufficient time has passed for word to go around. Coincidently, the Prince of Dorne is traveling through land to his home. But it is well known he is in search of a wife. If he has heard about this, there is a high chance he will pay Blackstone a visit.”

         Gwayne cleared his throat. “Would leaving at dawn not be better?”

         “If we are to prevent the Prince of Dorne from persuading Blackstone, we would leave now. But being as I rushed here, I shall have a meal, and we will gather our things to leave this evening.”

         “As you wish,” Gwayne nodded.

Chapter 2 - Looking Ahead

[lightlycareless]

Hi! As a Naoya fan, I really appreciate what you do for us and girl, I just love your works <33

So, Eh, I don't know how to say this... Can you write a fic about him where he has been married to a woman chosen for him by his clan but after so many years, he can't forget y/n? I mean, it's so cliché Ik, but I just can't get it out of my mind. It's like he really loved her and would've even eloped with her but at the end, it was y/n who asked him to go back to his clan since she knew that it was Naoya's fate to be the clan head. So, eventually y/n leaves and Naoya marries his wife and he gets to be the head of Zenin clan and later on, he kinds wishes his wife would give birth to a daughter so he could name her after y/n. Or maybe she does and while everyone expects him to torment the poor wife, he would silently pick up the baby and hug his daughter as if he wishes she was her baby?

so yeah, that's it, thank you anyway.

Hello!!!!!!!!

Omg thank you so much I'm soooo glad you like my work 🥹❤️

HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGH this ask has been on my mind since it first popped up jfc you know how to torture me.

I have been working on a small fic too with a similar topic, it's not going to be that long as my other work but I think you'll find it enjoyable too hehe. ... if I ever get back to it. heheheh.

ajkghasjgha anyways, let's get right into it.

warnings: angst. mentions/implications of death and unaliving someone :s. naoya is really cruel when referring to his unborn child.

Happy reading!

“If we ever have a daughter, I would like her to be named Naomi”

Is the first thought that crosses Naoya’s mind upon learning that his wife is expecting a daughter.

But beyond that, there is no excitement. No glee in his eye upon learning he’s to become a father in just a matter of months, his seed finally taking root after many dutiful attempts.

“Why?”

“Because it’s a cute name. And I always thought it was adorable how your family named the children after their parents. You are no exception, Naoya.”

He should be happy, right? Glad that his efforts ultimately paid off.

“That’s not too cheesy, is it?”

“…I think I’ll be happy just to have a family with you, regardless of what the baby is named.”

That he was to have the cherished family he always dreamt of having with the love of his life, after so many years of solitude…

Except he wasn’t.

Because his wife, the one carrying his child, wasn’t you.

…

…

…

Ever since he lost you, for a lack of better words, nothing has been the same.

“A daughter… of all the possibilities. Let’s just hope she’s strong.” His father would say, disappointed by the announcement. Naoya remains quiet, uninterested to respond but still deep in thought.

“Do you think they’ll look like you?”

“I hope not.”

“Gee, why not? I know I haven’t seen pictures of you as a baby, but I’m sure you were a cute one!”

Because I want them to look like you.

The sole purpose of his futile life was gone. And with it, any semblance of concern. Care for all that happened around him, or anyone for that matter.

Including his supposed partner, the woman the Zen’in assigned him to marry and continue their legacy. Even when she stood before him, seeking comfort, or at least encouragement after seeing the doctor, to Naoya… she was simply not there.

“Naoya-sama.” She’d call to him once in the privacy of their room, right after the doctor had left. The woman named Taeko, had always been… loyal, meek, submissive. Never one to retort or do anything that wasn’t to please him.

Yet, as much as she had fooled his family, Naoya was still able to see right through her.

Taeko didn’t care about him; no, not at all. The only thing she truly she cared about was the heir. The money that came along with his title, the financial security this meant for her…

More so now that she was pregnant; dictating that even when divorced, she would never have to work a day in her life.

Perhaps if he hadn’t discovered what love was, then maybe he would’ve struggled to discover her true intentions. Unfortunately for them, he had met you, with whom he learned what it was to be happy for once in his life… a teaching that will forever live on within him, naturally making this marriage almost impossible to coexist with.

As well as painful, remembering that this is all he had left of you, besides memories.

Naoya keeps quiet even when his wife calls for him yet again, not bothering to lift his gaze from whatever it was that took his attention, nor requesting her to proceed.

She takes his silence as her cue to continue.

“I know having a daughter wasn’t in the plans, but…” Taeko said, stepping closer to him. Just a few inches away from touching him… “I am still excited to welcome this new stage in our life.”

Of course she is. Her future is firmly set, regardless of his family’s ideals and the baby’s gender.

“I was actually thinking of naming the child after you, to follow your clan’s tradi—”

“You will not do such thing.” Naoya scowls, swiftly turning around and pushing her away, the burning look of his enraged eyes reveals she’s reopened a painful wound she’ll perhaps never comprehend.

Nor care to do so, believing instead that his anger came from her supposed failure to bring a male heir onto the Zen’in clan; and not because of the privilege—no, the right she’s stripping away from you.

Because you are the only one that deserved to be the mother of his children, the one to name them, love them, raise them…

Not this poor excuse of a leech.

“I heard you were having a child… congratulations, Naoya.” Ranta begins, partially unsure on how to approach the future father, or to do so at all… eventually settling to go through with it anyway. An announcement like this must make anyone happy, right? “Although I never expected your first child to be a girl! I mean… I always thought you’d have a bo—”

“This isn’t what I want, and you know that.” Naoya coldly cuts through Ranta’s words, making him flinch. “So, spare me the theatrics.”

Ranta swallows, he is amongst the few, if not the only, who knows the truth, the depths of his relationship with you:

Or your supposed fate.

And how angry he got when he knew the truth… or what he suspected, anyways.

Your disappearance wasn’t a simple coincidence, a misfortune of fate.

It was a necessity for the Zen’in’s plans; you quickly became nothing less than a hindrance once Naoya announced his intentions of marrying you.

They couldn’t permit a woman of your background to become Lady of the House. An unruly, opinionated girl that went against every single one of their beliefs. Nor could they allow you to free Naoya from their grasp.

And so, they did what was necessary. Get rid of their obstacle, call it a simple disappearance, cold feet as others assured, and let everything fall back into place.

Leaving Naoya behind with his cruel family, yet again.

But they’d never admit it. They would just say that your family decided to search for better opportunities elsewhere, you tagging along.

Yet, the body of an unidentified woman found in the middle of a forest near your home would indicate—

“—What are you going to do?” Ranta asks.

“There’s nothing for me to do.” Naoya frowns. “The only person I ever loved, the one person I should’ve never let go… is gone, and now, I’m stuck in this nightmare, alongside a woman that wants nothing from me but my money. Just like everyone always is.”

Ranta wishes to deny his accusations, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to his grieving friend. It would insult him, and you.

“…But…”

“But what?” Naoya retorted.

“…Well, you should at least… consider the baby. They—they shouldn’t be held accountable for what their mother has—”

“Don’t even dare call that thing my child.” He coldly declares. “It may have my name, but that thing is not mine. What assurance do I have that it is? She could’ve easily bedded anyone to get the job done!”

“Naoya! You— you shouldn’t say that!”

“Can you prove the contrary?”

“No—but it’s not right to make these assumptions either!”

“Then what do you suggest, dear friend of mine?”

“I… I think you—"

Have to let her go.

It becomes clear to Ranta how gravely he had underestimated the wound your absence had inflicted on Naoya’s heart—but perhaps he never wanted to admit such thing, for it would only remind his friend of what he once had and now lost forever.

But no matter how much he wished to act the fool, there was no hiding his heightened destructive tendencies, his aggravating isolation, which he already did with people he didn’t like, rising tensions between members alike, forcing them to steer clear of Naoya if they wished to live another day; or pester his father about the misbehavior of his son, forcing him to burden his wife with duties of cheering him up, or something if she wished to stay at the estate—

All for naught, for she had effectively ceased to exist the moment she announced her pregnancy. For the following 9 months, Naoya wouldn’t look her in the eye, even when sleeping in the same bed. Not that there were many opportunities to do so, for he eventually confined himself to whatever other room was available, officially dictating their marriage as unsalvageable.

Some took it as a reflection of his disappointment, a rightful reaction to have towards a female successor.

But Ranta knew better. Those close to him knew the truth.

He was openly reproaching his wife for having taken your place.

So naturally, he wasn’t there when Taeko went into labor. He wasn’t attentive to her calls, desperate pleads of companionship and support—he simply walked past her cries as she gave birth to his child and headed straight into the training grounds, just what he had exuberantly done these past few months to distract himself.

Yet, as much as he wished to run away from his reality, he wouldn’t be able to escape his duties, forced by relatives alike to go and meet the mother of his daughter to officially recognize her. Regardless of the brewing animosity between the two, if there were no other suitable candidates, this baby was still to be the future of the Zen’in, and thus, necessary to name.

Naoya doesn’t bother to wonder on who’d the child would look like the most, still, he knows he’ll hate it even more if she ends up a carbon copy of her mother—would it even matter if she took more after him instead?

Nonetheless, curiosity manages to get the best of him when entering the room where his wife and child awaited, walking past the midwives and straight to his so-called partner, leaning close to the small bundle wrapped in a white blanket, making up his mind in effectively cutting her out of his life if she ends up looking like Taeko.

But when he begins to get a glimpse of her small face…

The most unexpected happens.

As if the child knew her father was near, she slowly opens her eyes, revealing a golden gaze that reinstates her relationship to him—followed by a small patch of his black hair on top of her head, the shape of his eyes…

But most importantly, the words you once confided to him during the intimacy of the night.

“I want them to have your eyes. Your nose. Your hair. Your smile. I want the world to see all the things I love from you through our children.”

As well as your burning desire to have children that looked just like him, even when he hoped otherwise.

He doesn’t know what it was. Certainly not the excitement of having a life permanently intertwined with a woman he didn’t love; but something about your memory, how much you desired this moment, the innocence that engulfed such child, one that he only thought possible through you, his features shown through her, and how vulnerable she felt once in his arms…

Naoya found it unnecessary to wonder what kind of reaction you would have, still, he liked to imagine the brightness in your face, the love in your eyes, the grin on your lips: to be overjoyed to finally have a family with him, eagerly waiting to live out the future that waited for the three.

If this is the way you’d continue to live on, then he’d honor such memory; one last insult to the family that had continuously hurt him over and over again, through merits they would never wipe away, no matter how much they’d try—

“The name, for the child.” The midwife asks, moving closer to Naoya.

Under his own conditions.

“Y/N— Y/N Zen’in.” Naoya declares, softly looking down onto the child. “That will be her name.”

“Wh—What!?” The mother gasps, quickly understanding the implications behind his selection, followed by a futile attempt to make him reconsider, stop him from removing her existence!

But he had long erased her from his consideration, declaring that she was to have no relationship with the child, opting to raise her himself, his sole successor; Taeko would have whatever she needed to live a comfortable life, but that was it.

Naoya would give his daughter all that she needed to strive as a sorcerer, or whatever else she’d decide to pursue.

He’d swore to love her and raise her, protect her from the cruelties of this world, do all in his power to make her happy… but most importantly:

Treat her as if she had been yours.

Essentially, dunno if I managed to convey that, yes; you were killed. an act that scared your family away and left Naoya without knowing what ever happened.

Also, I'm debating whether to write a small epilogue hehe. I have written a bit extra after this but decided to cut it out.

AND OF COURSE the name... originally I was going to name his wife Kayako but I've decided to take advantage of the animosity we feel against the name Taeko and there you have it :))) 🖕 bye Taeko.

Ngl this was sad for me to write; I always hated/enjoyed the topic of Naoya marrying off someone else because of reasons, though it was clear he always longed for you and viceversa. Or not. I just like angst 😭 and fortunately, this isn't the last time we're going to see something like this :) I do have something I'm working on, I just gotta connect the dots. I intend it to be quite short anyways.

Anyhow, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! 😭 it was such a treat to torture myself with.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!! ❤️❤️

[hoardingpuffin]

Thinking about Elwood and their relationship with sentimentality and aesthetics.

Thinking about this kid that grew up in a group home orphanage sort of place where the only things he really owned were his clothes. Not even the books in the abandoned study were truly his, he just borrowed them even though their original owner was long gone.

Thinking about the teenager that flew off in the middle of the night with his only possessions being his clothes and a scrap of a torn-out dictionary page, fending for themselves for the first time, never allowing himself to gather objects that were not strictly useful and nessessities, because he could not have anything weighing them down.

Thinking about the lanky seventeen year old who broke his own rule about 'frivilous' things just a few times but always justified them to himself as useful: A nice fountain pen, some books, nicer clothes that fit him better than worn-out handmedowns. Of course all of these things are useful, but none of them are strictly nessecary - he could have used a pencil, borrowed books instead of carrying them with him, stuck with lesser quality clothes until they wore out. Thinking about how Elwood gave up one of his only possessions to Mirasol as a gift.

Thinking about Elwood arriving in Brightstep with his only possessions being his clothes, now with a spare knit jumper, a notebook for his research, a sleeping bag. Still only useful things, where he can excuse away the sentimental value. Thinking about Elwood now, months later - he has a house, he has an office in the library, he has flower pots and plush pillows and soft blankets. He has several notebooks when he really only needs one, but several are easier to split different topics of research into. He has a proper new well-made binder that has not been mended a hundred times. He has armour for the first time, he has weapons instead of pockets of rocks. He has a flower crown that reminds him of his younger sibling. He carries around the lily of the valley that Virgil gifted him, as well as an orange tulip from Pietro. So many of these are not explainable with usefulness, they are purely sentimental and for the first time in his life Elwood is allowing himself to have these things and to be sentimental without feeling guilty for it.

And then the books. For the first time in ages, Elwood is reading for pleasure rather than research. He sat down on the spiral staircase to read to Virgil's ravens. He's read childrens' books like And Tango Makes Three and novels such as Kite & Prejudice and Lord of the Wings. These books bear no relevancy to his research, but Elwood is reading them anyways, without feeling guilty for it.

Holding him in my hands.

That's all.

[gaylordscooter]

Where Fate Leads Us

Killer, Dust and Horror were in Killer's room, folding the multitude of clothes.

“don't expect me to do more of the chores around here just because you two offered to help me,” Killer said.

“sure, you'll be too busy with laundry anyway,” Horror chuckled.

“i literally will,” he said in full seriousness. He placed the shirt he folded onto the stack of shirts in his closet that was getting taller than he was standing. “i know i’ve joked that you two ain’t allowed to borrow my clothes—but yeah, please take some of these. i didn't expect there to be this much.”

“eh, it's not my style,” Horror shrugged, holding a pair of ripped jeans.

“horror, bud. please.”

Horror shook his head, “shouldn't have gotten so many clothes, man.”

“i swear nightmare gave me more than i grabbed.”

“that's definitely not true.”

“dust, back me up.”

Dust did not back him up.

Killer sighed, looking at his hubris that was the closet filled to the brim with stacks of clothing. He wouldn't have to do laundry that often if he washed all his clothes once he ran out of clean ones, but that would take so long. Eh, he’ll worry about it later.

They didn't see Nightmare until they started to eat dinner. He arrived without a word, keeping his gaze forward and away from the three as he walked over to the door to the hallway.

Killer dropped his fork upon seeing him.

A good amount of the goop on his body was gone, as if half of his body was washed off. Or scorched off. Something smelled burnt.

What surprised Killer the most was seeing his skull. He was a skeleton and he looked like him. He didn't expect that.

Nightmare spared a quick glance at Killer as he tried to walk faster. His gait was erratic, akin to limping. What little slime there was formed slim tendrils by his legs that he used as support to walk. 

The three stayed silent until a few moments after he left.

“he looks younger than me,” Killer said.

But rather than questioning it, the three decided to drop it there.

They didn’t see much of Nightmare until a whole week later. 

They were sitting at one of the tables in the Great Hall, conversing with each other. Soon enough the topic steered over to Nightmare.

“nightmare hasn't put us through anything recently, huh? not even a game of uno,” Horror said. Last time there was a dip in activity, he was paranoid, but he was oddly calm about it this time. Seeing Nightmare's other form changed the way he saw him, he supposed. It was easier to personify him. “what do you two think he's up to?”

Dust merely shrugged. Either because he didn't feel like talking or because he really didn't have a clue.

Killer seemed lost in thought, before speaking up, “he apologized.”

“huh?” Horror cocked his head.

“he apologized, for putting us through all that shit. maybe he meant it?” That apology would be worth nothing if he continued to do it, after all. Which is what he was expecting, but it's been a whole week since then and he has yet to tell them to do anything.

“he actually apologized? that's hilarious,” Horror said.

“i think he was being genuine, but i wonder why he’s been out more often.”

The obvious conclusion to this behavior would be that he's planning something, but none of them jumped to it. Perhaps they were beginning to trust him.

They were also all in a good mood today.

 Killer was able to get a good night’s sleep and woke up well-rested for once. He had a good breakfast consisting of ungodly amounts of buttered toast, tended to the cats, and now he was hanging out with the other two. It was a solid day.

Dust also appeared to be in a lighter mood. He was chatty by his standards and overall more relaxed. It was like less stuff was on his mind.

Horror didn't feel on edge constantly, almost feeling how he used to before the core went kaput. It was as if he felt safe, almost.

In fact, they’ve been in a good mood this whole past week. If their year-ago selves saw them now they'd find this weird and crazy.

“though, he always comes and goes in such a hurry…”

As if on cue, Nightmare entered the hall, throwing the doors open in a dramatic fashion that called for attention. He only had four tentacles out at the moment. That was half the usual amount.

“Hello,” he greeted. “How has everyone been today?” He has never asked that question before. He was being friendlier, perhaps.

“i’m doin’ good,” Killer answered without a second thought.

“‘m fine,” Horror said.

Dust nodded, indicating he felt the same.

Nightmare hid his smile. “I see, carry on then.” He left the hall, sinking into the ground to reappear in his room.

It was happening.

He felt incredibly weak at the moment, sure, but it would all pay off. He just needed to be patient.

He collapsed on his bed, reverting to his normal “passive” form as the protector of the multiverse called it. He was nearing the end of his plan. He will enact the last step tomorrow. He had to. If his exhaustion was anything to go by, he was running out of time.

The next morning, Killer was first to wake up. Another night of feeling well rested. It was a miracle. He sat up and stretched before getting up to throw on a change of clothes.

He went out to the hall, glancing at Horror and Dust’s doors before heading over to the kitchen.

He opened the pantry only to be met with nothing but chocolate bars. Instead of getting annoyed or mad he laughed.

He shut the pantry and composed himself. Why did he find it funny? Nightmare definitely targeted him with that one—No, it was just coincidence.

It was?

Killer shook his head trying to snap himself out of whatever was happening.

Something was happening, right? Something was off.

Nothing was off. He was just being silly.

He scratched the back of his head, opting to open the fridge.

And there was nothing but ketchup.

He slammed the door shut. Laughter erupted from his metaphorical throat. He ended up collapsing to the floor from how hard he was laughing.

He couldn't breathe. He didn't need to breathe.

But his chest still hurt. No it didn't. He couldn't feel pain.

Everything was fine.

His soul snapped into a target shape. He gasped for air and scrambled up to stand. It was like cold water was dumped onto him.

Something’s wrong, he tested the thought. Nothing came to counter it.

Something was messing with his head. For how long? Oh god, for how long?

Where the hell was Dust and Horror?! He wasn't ever the first to arrive in the kitchen, let alone first to wake up.

A cackle echoed throughout the area as the kitchen warped and twisted. The floorboards underneath him cracked and splintered, revealing dark nothingness beneath. The patterns on the wall had eyes, all glaring at him.

What the fuck was happening?

He choked out a breath, rushing over to the door that led to the hall. The door itself looked normal but when he grabbed the doorknob he couldn't let go of it, as if it grabbed back.

Was he still dreaming? Was this a hallucination?

The door flung open. He still couldn't let go of the handle.

It was Nightmare.

“Good morning, Killer,” he said calmly, as if their surroundings weren't collapsing in on itself. “Leaving the kitchen so soon? You haven't even eaten yet. Was the food not to your liking? But I picked it out just for you.” It sounded like his voice was coming from all directions. It was disorienting to say the least.

His eye, along with the eyes on the walls darted to his soul. He looked disappointed when he noticed its shape. He tsked, “After all the work I’ve put in, the stubborn thing is still unstable?”

“wh-what the hell are you talking about?” he rasped.

Nightmare snatched his soul with one of his hands. He leered down at it like a predator stalking its prey. He molded it with his hands back into the shape of a normal monster soul while Killer keened.

Killer grit his teeth as his emotions hit him at full force. It was now that he realized the unusual happiness he felt these past few days was not normal. That had to be Nightmare's doing.

That's why he thought he trusted him.

“you,” he growled, “you asshole!”

Nightmare merely drank up his anger with an amused expression. “Yes? Is that anything new?” he asked.

“fuck you!”

“Using big boy words now, aren't we?”

“i hate you.”

Nightmare was unfazed by the comment. “Tell me something I don't know.”

The door, along with the handle keeping Killer captive, suddenly disappeared. However, he still couldn't move. It was like he had sleep paralysis.

But unfortunately, he knew the demon was real.

“Do you want to know something funny? It isn’t just that I gain energy from negativity, positive emotions hurt. They sting like pouring acid on a wound as you wrench it open. But it was all worth enduring just to see the look of betrayal on your face.”

He was foolish. He was an idiot. He was an utter idiot!

Nightmare's smile spread impossibly wide across his face, curling up at the edges as he took in all of Killer's anguish. He was reveling in it.

“The best part, you were right to be untrusting. And then you second guessed yourself, leading to your downfall. It's pathetically hilarious.”

Killer wanted to wipe that smug face off so badly.

“I may not be able to force people to be happy like my brother, but I can maintain what is there by taking away your ability to feel anything negative. Isn't that fascinating? Your happiness was real. I tore that away from you.”

He felt sick. He felt utterly sick.

“I wonder. Do you think you three were the first ones?”

There was too much liquid determination leaking from his sockets. He retched, leaving a puddle on the torn up ground. He coughed more out, trying to prevent himself from choking on it.

Nightmare watched the display in amusement. He leaned down, reaching a hand out to caress the side of his face in a false display of affection. “Oh, Killer,” he cooed, voice sickly sweet, “You're getting my floors dirty.”

His touch was painful. It trudged up old and awful memories. He imagined that this is what everyone he killed felt when he dealt the final blow. With effort, he managed to tilt his head away from his hand.

Nightmare withdrew his hand, wiping it on his cloak as if Killer was covered in dirt.

“Oh mortals, so easy to fool. You pretend not to know things, ask questions and suddenly you seem less of a threat. He's ignorant to the world. So innocent. Surely he’s just misguided.”

Killer’s breath hitched. He tried not to break down in front of him. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He couldn't. Usually it was second nature to suppress his emotions, but it was too much now.

God, it was all an act for a false sense of security. He played with them like dolls and now he was tossing them out. What was going to happen now? Was he going to kill him?

Back then he wouldn't have cared about that. But now, he wanted to live. He had people he cared about again.

Did he already kill Dust and Horror?

“You're crying,” he said with false concern. “Be grateful you're able to. The others and your cats didn't even have the chance to.”

“NO!” Killer cried at the implications. The dam broke as he sobbed audibly. He clutched at his head, digging his fingers into his skull. He was hyperventilating. “no, you didn't. you didn’t—no.” He collapsed to his knees, shaking as he repeated his words of disbelief.

“You're alone, Killer,” he said in a tone that was a mockery of comfort. His sadness was euphoric. “You know, you were always my favorite out of the bunch.”

Killer was hardly listening now, too wracked with grief to hear.

“Because I knew how satisfying it would be to build you back up, just to tear you down again.”

And it was satisfying. Killer served him a mess of emotions in a cocktail just for him.

This is what he wanted. This is what he was made for. Was the multiverse finally happy with him?

Everything went dark. Killer shut his eye sockets tight and braced himself for certain death.

“Goodbye,” Nightmare growled.

When he opened them, he saw white. He had to blink his sockets until they adjusted to the brightness. Was this the afterlife? It was so empty.

And quiet.

He stayed on the ground, unable to find the effort to stand. So that was it, huh? He thought he was given a second chance. He was given back control over his life—but that was just a mere illusion. They were all his puppets in the end. He was just good at hiding their strings.

He couldn’t deny the sense of betrayal he felt. It was funny, he knew he couldn’t trust him.

He was still crying. There was a stain on the ground now created by the liquid determination pouring from his sockets.

He remembered when he thought dying would bring him peace, but now he was mourning all the things he was unable to do. He already missed Dust and Horror.

He laid on the ground for a little while, numb to the passage of time.

“—and there's the third. Hey man, you good?” A voice spoke.

Killer jolted and staggered to his feet. He looked around the area frantically, not finding anyone nearby—until he looked down. He screamed and backed away on instinct.

It was another skeleton, notably shorter than him, but still looked like a Sans regardless. However, this one dressed drastically different from any Sans he’s seen. He wore a scarf around his neck, some kind of crop top over a white tank top, long brown gloves that only covered his ring and pinky finger, and a brown jumpsuit worn like pants with the sleeves tied around his waist. It was safe to say he was a fashion disaster.

He raised his hands to show he was empty handed and meant no harm. “It's okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

The way he spoke reminded Killer of how he’d talk to a scared cat. Another sharp pang hit his soul as he remembered that he’ll never be able to see his cats again. “who the hell are you?” he asked, voice raw from all his screaming.

The skeleton looked confused at the question but answered anyway, “The name’s ink.” He did a dorky pose where he pointed to himself as he said that.

“so i’m not dead?” he questioned aloud.

“I sure hope you aren't. Your friends would be sad.”

Killer narrowed his eyes warily. “what friends?”

“Two sanses like you, one had a red eye and the other had his hood covering his face. They asked if i saw you.”

“when did you see them?! they're alive?” Hope kindled in his soul before he had the chance to be cautious.

“They are. I took them over to the hub just a bit ago,” Ink explained. “I can take you to them.”

“please!” Killer hastily said. He didn't even know what the “hub” was but all he knew is that he needed to get over to Dust and Horror now.

He reached his hand out to him.

Killer grabbed it without hesitation.

Ink’s scarves moved like prehensile tails and painted the ground beneath them which promptly turned into a hole.

The two of them fell, startling Killer, but fortunately once they got close to the ground, Ink slowed their fall by floating somehow.

He let go of his hand once they landed.

They were in a whole different world. His eye sockets widened. He looked around the new area and saw a multitude of unfamiliar people.

“killer?”

He whipped his head in the direction of the voice. His face lit up upon seeing Horror and Dust. “guys!” he shouted. He bolted over to the two, tackling them down into a hug.

“you're both alive!” he exclaimed. He clung to the two of them like a koala. “i thought nightmare killed you guys.”

“we thought nightmare killed you.” Horror patted his back comfortingly while Dust simply hugged him back.

Killer ended the hug and stood up after a bit, helping the two up. “i’m so glad it was a bluff,” he said in relief. “fuck, what an asshole.”

“what did he do to you? it looks like you were doused with black paint.”

Killer glanced down at his clothes. Sure enough there were black stains. He didn't really want to think about what happened, but even as he did he found it hard to describe. “well, first of all, everything was fucked up like i was having a bad trip, and then he gloated about killing you two and then i thought he killed me.” It was a really poor summary, but he believed he got the point across.

“and what’s up with all that?” Horror gestured to the black stains that trailed from his face to his shirt.

“i threw up,” Killer said, trying to wipe off the dried determination near his teeth.

Horror absentmindedly wiped his own shirt. He was transparently concerned.

“Woah woah woah, what the hell are these three doing here?!” a new voice shouted.

The three of them snapped their attention to the unfamiliar person, making him freeze in place as a result.

Killer noticed that Ink was next to him.

He was yet another Sans, slightly taller than Ink but shorter than the three of them. He wore a torn-up lab coat over a blue-gray shirt, navy blue pants, blueish-green gloves and boots of supposedly the same rubber-like material. He also wore a bandana the same color as his boots and gloves around his neck.

In short, he looked like a nerd.

Ink told him something too quietly for them to catch.

The nerd-looking Sans, gave them a weird look before daring to walk over to them with Ink trailing behind. He reached his hand out for a handshake. “Hi,” he said simply.

No one made a move to return the handshake.

“Don't any of you know how to greet a new pal?” The way he said that felt practiced. And then he snickered and dropped his hand. “So none of you remember those times you almost killed me? Cool. That's great. The name’s Blue.”

The three exchanged glances amongst themselves, seeing if any of them recognized this “Blue”. Nope, none of them did.

None of them felt inclined to introduce themselves either.

Blue tugged at his bandana awkwardly and then swiveled around to Ink. “do they have to be here?”

Ink rolled his eyelights. “Yes, it's a thing.”

“Like how Dream bursting into flames and turning into some eldritch angel for a bit was a thing?”

Ink didn't even have to reply.

“Of course it is,” he sighed. He turned back around. “Anyway!” The increase in volume made the three flinch, but Blue didn't seem to notice. “Welcome to the hub! This is a place of refuge for people who’s universes have been destroyed or sucked badly, et cetera, et cetera, don't kill anyone here and you'll be provided a home along with food and water, probably.”

They were all disoriented by this change of pace. So they really were just going to live somewhere completely different now. Said somewhere being populated with many other people.

This was definitely going to take some getting used to.

Horror looked uncertain while Dust looked uncomfortable. Killer, on the other hand, looked elated.

“guys this means we're free. we’re free from nightmare!” he realized. “you're not gonna torture us, are you?” he asked Blue.

“Oh god no,” he replied, sounding repulsed.

Killer pumped his fist in the air as if that was a plus instead of the bare minimum.

Blue looked to the side awkwardly. “So then, Ink here will find you guys a place to stay and if you have any questions you can ask me, or Cross and Chara. Those two are the ones who founded the place after all, but they aren't here right now, unfortunately.”

“where can we get some food?” Killer asked. Hunger decided to hit him now and it was likely Dust and Horror were hungry too. None of them got to eat breakfast, to his knowledge.

“Oh, there's a Grillby’s—”

“anything but a grillby’s?” he sounded a bit desperate asking that.

“I gotcha covered!” Ink chimed in, nudging Blue aside. “I can get you guys whatever you want. I’ll get you guys a room first. Follow me.” He walked off towards the buildings in the distance.

There were a lot of other people around the area. A good amount were also skeletons. For the most part, they’d mind their own business, only glancing at them from time to time as they followed Ink.

Dust avoided looking at everyone, especially trying to make himself look small when nearing a Papyrus.

At one point Horror came to a sudden halt with a horrified expression.

There was an Undyne and Alphys, the two clearly together, nearby.

“what? you hate love or something?” Killer snickered.

Horror pulled his tattered hood on. “don't joke with me right now, killer,” he grumbled.

Killer went quiet and kept his head down. He hoped they were almost there. He kept looking at the buildings as they walked along trying to find one that looked remotely like the place they would stay. He realized that, while Horror and Dust seemed bothered by seeing different versions of people they knew, he saw all of these guys as mere strangers. Try as he might, when he sees a Papyrus he doesn't feel anything and can only go off of vague memories to know that he should be feeling something more.

He hesitated to kill his Papyrus. Why did he look at these other versions of him and feel nothing towards them?

He remembered when Nightmare brought a Papyrus to the castle and when they hugged. He didn't feel that much back then either, but he chalked that up to his soul being on the fritz.

“We're here!” Ink finally said. “Well, this is where Horror’ll stay—if you guys want to be separate, that is.”

The building they were in front of looked like an actual house rather than an apartment.

“how the hell do you know my name?”

“Your brother told me, duh,” Ink said as if he should’ve known already.

“my brother?! is he here?” Horror questioned. He looked like he’d strangle Ink if he was joking with him.

Ink pointed to the building with his thumb. “He’s living in there with a few others from your world. I think he's in there right now.”

Horror approached the door and knocked.

“Who’s there?”

That was Toriel’s voice.

“amish,” he answered.

“Amish who?”

“I missed you too.”

Toriel laughed, thankfully. He was pretty rusty on his knock knock jokes. He wasn't sure that one would land.

The door opened a few seconds later.

Toriel looked healthier and less burdened. Her fur was well taken care of rather than matted like it was the last time he saw her. She also had new robes that were much more vibrant in color. She smiled fondly at him. “Hello, Sans.”

He couldn't believe this was real. “heya, toriel.”

He heard a stampede coming from behind her as the whole gang from Grillby’s went up to the door. A chorus of “Sans!” rang out.

“‘sup, guys?” He was surprised to see that all of them were staying in the house.

Many of them were saying things like “we thought you died” and “where the hell have you been?”.

Everyone looked a lot livelier.

Papyrus managed to push himself out from the crowd, Toriel stepping aside to let him get closer to his brother.

Papyrus looked more like his old self. There weren't any more blood stains on him, but his teeth were still crooked. His outfit was completely different. He was wearing what appeared to be a red-orange knitted sweater with the text “Cool Dude” embroidered in white in the middle of it. His jagged neck was exposed without his cape on.

Soon enough, Sans was off the ground and lifted into the air by Papyrus as he brought him into a tight hug. “I KNEW I’D SEE YOU AGAIN!” he said excitedly.

“missed you too, bro. i hope you weren't too bonely without me.”

Papyrus let out a sob at his joke, but not in annoyance but rather joy.

“you good?”

“I MISSED YOUR PUNS,” he admitted. “IT WASN’T THE SAME WHEN TORIEL WOULD MAKE THEM.”

“you dead serious? of corpse toriel can't hold a candle to me, she’s just not as humerus. no body’s funnier than a skeleton like me.”

Toriel snickered at his rapid-fire jokes.

“AND IT’S WORN OFF! I NO LONGER MISS THEM,” he said lightheartedly. He set Sans down carefully. “WOWIE, YOUR CLOTHES SURE ARE…SOMETHING.”

Right, he practically was dressed in tattered rags.

“I THINK I HAVE SOME OF YOUR CLOTHES PACKED IN MY ROOM. DOGARESSA SAID I WAS OVER PACKING BUT I KNEW I WAS RIGHT TO BRING THEM!” he raised his voice even louder as he mentioned Dogaressa. “COME INSIDE, I’LL SHOW YOU OUR ROOM!” Papyrus walked back inside the house eagerly. 

Sans smiled but paused before taking a step in. He looked back to Dust and Killer, who were watching his reunion.

“Are those friends of yours?” Toriel asked.

Friends. He doesn't think any of them have called each other a friend before.

“uh, yeah,” he said quietly.

“Why not introduce them to us?” she suggested.

He never thought about the possibility of introducing Killer and Dust to them. He wasn't sure how something like that would go. Their names themselves would be off-putting. He motioned for them to come over.

They looked hesitant, as if they weren't sure if he really did want them to come over. Eventually, they bit the bullet and started walking over.

“Hello there,” Toriel greeted. “I take it, you two are friends of Sans?”

Man, they've killed different versions of everyone inside that house, Killer thought awkwardly. “yup, the name’s killer.”

She seemed to be more concerned with his odd soul than his name. To her credit, she didn't question either. “My name is Toriel, it is nice to meet you.” She looked at Dust, who was probably sweating bullets underneath his hood. “And you are?”

Dust kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze downward as if the ground was very interesting.

“oh uh, he doesn't talk. we call him…” Killer desperately tried to think of any other name to call him that didn’t literally mean corpse. “dusk.”

“It is nice to meet you as well, Dusk.”

“Nice of you guys to get acquainted,” Ink said, appearing behind the two skeletons. “Now if you don't mind, you two, we gotta get a move on. I’m a busy skeleton.”

“right, we’ll see you around,” Killer said. “bye, h—sans.”

Sans waved goodbye and went inside the house after his brother.

“Farewell,” Toriel said and then closed the door.

Ink led them to a hotel building a few blocks away from the house. The walk was quiet and lackluster.

That is, until Killer realized something. “hang on.”

“Hm?”

“you said horror’s brother told you his name.”

“Yup!” he confirmed.

“Horror’s brother doesn't know he's called that.”

Ink looked like he was caught robbing a bank, and then he laughed it off. “Wow, it took you that long to notice that? Anyway,” he gestured to the hotel, “this is where you two will be staying.”

“don’t just change topics—”

“I don't have time to explain to you who I am and how I know literally everything about you. Like how you're gonna ask me if you're gonna share a room with Dusk and then you'll get sad when I tell you ‘well I did have two rooms prepared’ and then stupidly happy when I say ‘but if you want you guys can share a room’.”

Killer looked mortified. What the hell was this guy’s deal? Could he see the future?

Ink handed him a key. “Anyway, here's your room key, it's on the second floor. Yes there's two beds but I doubt you need the extra one—”

“hey.”

“Have fun.” His scarf painted a hole in the ground and he jumped into it.

Killer sighed, inspecting the key in his hand. It had the room number on it, fortunately. “c’mon, man,” he said to Dust.

The two of them walked into the hotel, which thankfully didn't have anyone in the lobby at the moment. They were able to get in their room without any interruptions.

The moment Killer locked the door shut, Dust threw himself onto one of the beds with a sigh.

“how you holding up, dust?”

“don't call me that,” he muttered angrily.

“oh.” He went over to sit on the other bed, proving Ink wrong. “so is ‘dusk’ fine?”

He didn't protest, so he assumed it was a yes. It was funny, they hardly sounded different. In fact, Killer came up with that name because it sounded similar.

Was it because of the meaning behind the words or because of the person who gave him the name that made the difference? Killer knew it was more likely to be the former.

Dusk laid on the bed lifelessly, as if he was an actual dead skeleton.

Killer couldn't blame him. The only reason he wasn't breaking down was because someone else was in the room, and he was getting tired of all this emotional turmoil.

He heard a knock at the door. “i’m going to stab whoever's outside if you don't make like a tree and fuck off,” he threatened.

“Geez! I just brought you guys some food. It's lumpia. I’ll leave it at the door,” that sounded like Blue.

Killer waited a bit until he got up to open the door. There was a bag of takeout on the ground. He picked it up and shut the door, locking it again.

Inside the containers was a food he didn't recognize. thank god, he would've snapped if it was Grillby’s. He left one of the containers on Dusk’s bedside counter.

He ate like a starving animal, pleased to find out that the “lumpia”, as Blue called it, was pretty good. Honestly, he’d eat literal dirt but that didn't stop him from appreciating well-cooked food.

He heard Dusk sit up and grab the container on his bedside counter.

They ate in silence for a bit.

“i’m glad you're not dead,” Dusk said eventually.

Killer snickered, “me too.” He realized how that came out. “i’m also glad that you're alive, i mean.”

He saw him smiling underneath his hood.

“i dunno if my cats are okay, though. even if he doesn't hurt them directly…who's gonna take care of them?” His smile faltered.

Dusk put the container back and got up to sit next to him. He thought of what to say. He wasn’t that good at comforting people in the past and he definitely wasn’t good at it now. “they were strays, right? they’ll probably be able to fend for themselves.”

“god, i hope so.” That wasn’t even taking into account the possibility that Nightmare himself will hurt them. Killer supposed he never explicitly said he killed anyone, and the other two turned out to be fine, but that didn’t stop him from fearing the worst.

He felt Dusk’s arm awkwardly wrap around him. Instinctively he turned to hug him back.

Maybe they’ll end up okay.

[77gigabytes]

Pinpricks {Miya Atsumu x Reader}

You know... All this brain juice should really be going into writing my assignments, but it’s whatever :D

Anyway, I'm thinking of posting a masterlist soon, there's not a whole lot, but please look forward for that! :D

|| Masterlist ||

-Seven

You and Atsumu have been friends for as long as you can remember.

Not too long ago, after he had won a championship game, you confessed your feeling to him.

“I’m sorry, YN, I just… I just asked another girl to a date a few days ago.”

A thousand needles. All over your body.

“Oh.”

Tears prick at your eyes and you clench your hands to will yourself from letting them drop.

“That’s,” You give him your best smile, “That’s great!” You chuckle a little.

You both know it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

Who were you trying to fool?

You laugh a little - as a coping mechanism or from embarrassment, you don’t know.

“Hah, forget I ever said anything then.” You shy away from his gaze.

“YN.” He says as he reaches his hand out, “Look-”

“No,” You’re quick to cut him off. You tuck your hands around your waist and lean back ever so slightly, “I, uh…” You clear your throat to stop your voice from shaking, “I should get going.”

You turn to leave.

“YN, wait I-”

Act normal.

You’re fine.

Haha.

You lift a hand to wave at him, “I’ll see you around, Tsu-” Your hand drops slowly. Tsumu? Could you even call him that anymore? You bet his new girlfriend would.

With these thoughts in mind you quickly correct yourself, “Atsumu.”

You don’t think you’ve ever gone this long without talking to Atsumu. Well…Aside from greeting him like you normally would. Or at least as best as you can without breaking down.

In between classes, you take the most convoluted route possible. At break times, you hide yourself amongst your girl friends; forgoing the rooftop to eat in the crowded cafeteria.

In some classes it’s quite hard to avoid him when he literally sits next to you.

“Pssst. YN.” He leans towards you.

You spare him a glance, “Shh.” You give him your best glare, “I’m trying to write notes.” You speak while scribbling in your notebook, “You know this topic is hard for me.”

Not true... But it was your best excuse.

From the corner of your vision, you see him narrow his eyes.

With your eyes trained on your notes, all you can hear is a huff and tearing of paper.

Moments later said piece of paper lands on your desk.

I need to talk to you after class.

You turn to him, who already has his eyes trained on you.

You answer with a subtle shake of your head.

To which he replies with a frown before turning to write another note.

You’ve been avoiding me

You hold the note in your hands and stare at it for a few seconds.

You look up at the ceiling and blow out a breath before writing down a reply.

Fine. After class. 2 minutes.

Short and sharp.

You pass the note back to him and he looks to you with a smug smile.

But pins prick at your heart once again.

You once thought of confessing by passing a note to him like this...

After all, it was something you two did almost every day.

Just how long had you been harbouring these feelings?

It doesn't matter, it's too late now.

…

You don’t think you’ve ever dreaded the end of class as much as you have right now.

Everyone is speeding away, having thrown all their belonging into their bags to head to lunch.

But your hands are shaking as you pick up your notebooks.

What am I supposed to say to him?

Lost in thought, you don’t realise that Atsumu is holding your pencil case for you to pack away into your bag.

He’s standing in front of your desk with his bag slung over his shoulder, “YN?” He asks.

Snapped out of your trance, you look up from where your seated but don’t answer him.

“Let’s go,” He laughs lightly, “Ya only gave me two minutes, I gotta hurry.”

You take your pencil case, “Right…” You whisper, “Thank you.”

“C’mon.” He motions to the door with a nod of his head.

Languidly, you follow after him. Every step pinches at your heart.

“Look Astumu,” You try to beat him to the chase, “I-”

But he cuts you off, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You bite your lips. Of course I have. You think.

He places a hand on your forearm, “I told you, you don’t have to be awkward with me.”

You almost scoff at him, “It doesn’t— I can’t just—” erase my feelings for you.

With a deep breath, you gather your thoughts, “I—” You look up at him, “I just need some time to get used to it.”

You gently cover his hand with your own, “I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” You admit and dip your head as you feel the tears rising, “I’ll—” You pull his hand away, “I’ll come to you when I’m ready, Atsumu.”

“And when will that be?” He whispers.

You can only shrug.

He sighs, “You’re my best friend, YN.”

That’s what makes it hurt more. You grit your teeth. Why can’t he understand that?

“I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

Again... A thousand needles. All over your body.

You close your eyes for a moment as the tears threaten to spill over.

“Neither do I.” You hate the way your voice shakes.

“Atsuuuu~” It’s his girlfriend’s sickly sweet voice.

You quickly wipe your tears and turn to leave, “I have to go.” You point behind you with your thumb, “I have to borrow PE clothes from a friend.”

One thing that is both a blessing and a curse about being friends with Atsumu is that you inevitably become friends with his twin, Osamu.

“You know you can’t avoid him forever.” Osamu says, leisurely leaning back in his seat in front of you.

You scowl, “Watch me.”

You know this is misplaced anger, but this heavyhearted feeling is becoming too much to bear.

“Will you at least come for our birthday later this week?”

Your body goes slack.

You've never missed their birthday, and they've never missed yours.

It was an unspoken promise at this point, one that you, unfortunately, think you can no longer keep.

…

When the morning of their birthday arrives, you’re curled up in bed.

You’ve been vomiting all morning; feeling lightheaded with a fever but feeling so cold all the same.

Osamu came by a while ago. He was meant to pick you up and head back to their place to celebrate their birthday.

“Just take the presents.” You groan as you prop yourself up, “The blue one is for Atsumu. This black one is yours.”

You began preparing their presents months before today - collecting little volleyball trinkets that you think they would have liked.

You gather the blankets around your body and take small steps to the presents you prepared.

With all the strength you can muster, you give him a smile and say, “Happy birthday, Osamu.”

... and Atsumu

…

When Osamu arrives home, he delivers the present on your behalf, “Here, Tsumu. This is YN’s gift for you.”

He smiles when he takes the box, “Oh, nice. Thank you—” He looks around... Behind Osamu... To the door, “YN?” He says slowly as he tilts his head.

“She’s sick.” Osamu explains, “She was vomiting all of last night and this morning when I came to pick her up.”

Atsumu frowns at that, “What?”

Why didn’t she call me?

When your eyes blink open, you see Atsumu sitting on your bed.

He lifts his hand to your forehead and greets you with concerned eyes.

I must be seeing things.

“I’m going crazy.” You mumble and turn your back to the figure. I guess I’m more ill than I thought.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” The voice is crystal clear in your ears.

“Nope.” You push your fingers into your ears, “Go away. I just need more sleep." You nod your head, "That’s probably it.”

Atsumu pulls one of your arms away, “Why didn’t you call me?” He asks, barely above a whisper.

You freeze at the realisation. It’s not a dream… He’s actually here.

“You always call me.” He mumbles and turns to tuck the blankets under your feet, “You hate being sick.” He states.

You watch him fix the blankets some more before asking, “What do you mean?” You croak out, “It’s your birthday…”

He turns to look at you, “So?”

You blink at him confused, “Soooo…” You drag out, “I’m not gonna call you to take care of me.”

He doesn’t speak, but his gaze is too tender to simply be concern for someone who is sick.

It makes you feel uneasy and you fidget under the blankets, “I’ll be fine. Where’s Osamu? You should head back.” You ramble.

You grunt as you sit up, “Go.” You urge him by pushing his shoulders with whatever strength you have left, “You’re missing out on your own birthday party. I’ll be fine.”

“YN…” It almost sounds like a plead.

“Just go.”

But, you can be just as headstrong as he is, “Just go, Atsumu.”

A few beats of silence passes and he stands up on his own accord.

You r gaze drops to your hands in your lap, but you can hear his footsteps fade followed by the click of the door.

You didn’t actually think he would leave.

But he was right, you hated being sick and he would always be the one to take care of you.

But things have changed between the two of you. He has someone else he has to take care of now.

Your body falls back onto the bed at the thought.

You pull the blankets closer to your body to muffle the cries that fall from your lips.

Crying when you were sick was always the worst. The tears feel so much hotter on your cheeks. Like little pinpricks to your eyes.

Atsumu used to be the one to wipe them away.

For now, they’ll just have to soak into your pillowcase.

The first thing you feel when you wake up again is the cold towel on your forehead.

When you look around, you notice that there’s a humidifier on your nightstand and another blanket draped across your body.

“What?”

As you try to make sense of the situation, a loud bang comes from behind the door followed by a string of curse words.

Huh?

You groan as you sit up and your vision sways from having laid down all day.

As you stand, you have to brace yourself against the bed momentarily as your body aches in complaint.

When you exit your room, you’re greeted with the sight of Atsumu crouched down on the kitchen floor, rubbing the top of his head.

“You’re awake.” He says, “Ugghh,” He presses against the sore spot, “I was tryna cook, but damn, your rangehood is so low.”

You’re speechless for a moment, “Why… Why are you still here?”

He places a pot onto the stove as he answers, “Well, yer super sick, why wouldn’t I be here?”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t even the least bit happy to see him here, but of course you’ve got a traitorous mouth, “Atsumu, I told you that I’d be fine.’

He shakes his head, “You were 38 degrees before I left.” Then makes his way over to the dining table, rummaging through a plastic bag, “You need ta take some meds. Come here.” He beckons you over with a wave of his hand.

Your feet moved on their own and before you knew it, you were inches away from him.

But of course, you’re still at war with yourself, “Just go.” You bring a hand up to stop him, “I’ll take them later.” You assure him

But evidently, it does nothing of the sort.

He looks at you with a frown, “Why do you keep brushing me off? Telling me to go away?”

“Because it hurts seeing you here, okay?!” The words fly out of your mouth in a tone you didn’t quite like.

Your chest heaves as you admit it to him.

But your outburst is met with cold silence.

“I really can’t see you right now.” You say through clenched teeth, “I want to stay friends, I do. I want to go back to how we were before… Before all this.” Your hands motion between the two of you, “But it’s so hard, okay?” You look up at him, searching for anything in his eyes.

When he says nothing, you curl into yourself, “Just…Just leave me alone. You’ve done what you need to do.” You place a hand at his back in an attempt to guide him to the front door, “We can end everything here and I…”

You pause as he begins to push back against your hand, “I don’t want to see you again.” You mumble.

Swiftly, he turns around and grabs the plastic bag from the dining table

Oh, right… He can’t just leave without his stuff. You think

But he turns and grabs your wrist as well and leads you back to the bedroom.

“Atsumu! What are you— Let go!”

“Lay down.”

“What?”

“You’re not in your right mind, right now.” He throws the blanket over you. “We can talk when you’re better.”

“Atsumu!”

“— No.” He says sternly.

His tone is enough for you to cease your struggling.

“Sleep.” He guides you to lay down, “We’ll talk when you’re not sick.”

“ You—”

“Enough.” He cuts you off whilst jabbing the sheets between the bed and your body.

You huff in defeat and childishly untuck yourself, “You can’t just bulldoze your way—”

“I said enough.”

In anger you glare at him and it’s only then that you see the hurt that's masked behind his sharp tone.

It catches you off guard.

As he turns to leave, he says, “I’ll... I'll wake you up when I’m finished cooking.”

Why do I hurt myself like this? hahahha

|| Masterlist ||

-Seven

[s-ublimewrites]

writing sonnets (melissa schemmenti x f!reader)

synopsis: your students tease you relentlessly and melissa can't help but to join in

words: ~1.4k

warnings: none i think? wholesome borderline crack

note: im not sure i ever actually gender the reader here? but f!reader to cover my own ass<3

Don’t get it twisted - you love the inquisitive nature of your students, you really do. It’s something every eighth grade English teacher longs for. But your fourth period class has a certain knack for getting you off topic with their curiosity. On this particular day - a Friday, so blissfully close to freedom - you have relinquished all control and let them fall down the rabbit hole of fanfiction, of all things. Leave it to middle schoolers. 

They had only been learning about first, second, and third person narration - so innocuous, you didn’t see how you could possibly be derailed. Maybe you’d make it through the lesson, and you could relish in the four minutes of silence you get between periods, and-

“Where is second person narration used?” Angel doesn’t bother raising his hand, and you don’t bother admonishing him.  

You think briefly. “Honestly, not many pieces of published works use it - not that I’ve seen, anyway. We don’t talk about it much. I’ve really only seen the second person used in one place.”

You intend to leave it at that, but of course, Angel pushes. 

“Where?” he asks. 

In the second you use to inhale before tackling the question, Kennedy takes the liberty of answering: “Fanfiction, duh. That self-insert stuff.”

You can’t help it - a laugh bubbles out, and this is the moment everything begins to spiral. 

“Yeah,” you collapse into your desk chair, “Kennedy’s right. Fanfiction.”

Kennedy takes the opportunity - it’s been presented to her on a silver platter, really. “You know about fanfiction, Y/L/N?” 

“Sweetheart, my generation invented fanfiction. And I’m a writer. This was my game before you were even born.”

Angel is on his feet, his hands slamming on his desk and his voice rising with excitement, “WHERE CAN WE READ YOUR FANFICTION?” 

“Oh, my God, no. You can’t. It’s not on the internet or anything, I’d just, like… send it to my friends, or whatever,” you insist, hands coming to cover your red face as you laugh. 

The class, buzzing with chatter and giggles, continues to harass you. “So, what, Ms Schemmenti reads your fanfiction?”

Your hands are still covering your face. “No, Ms Schemmenti most certainly does not!”

“That’s because the fanfiction is about Ms Schemmenti. Y’all see how Y/L/N be looking at her in the halls,” someone says, and several others voice their agreement. 

“She’s down bad for real.”

“What?!” your head snaps up, eyes searching for whoever made the comment. The bell rings before you can get your answer. “Get out of my room, you absolute little monsters. Have a good weekend, please read chapter th- oh, okay, you’re gone. Cool. Awesome.” 

You look at the camera. It zooms in on your red, deadpan face. You drop your forehead onto the desk. 

-

When you walk into the lounge at the end of the day, you slump into the chair beside Janine, who’s engaged in a conversation about a scrabble tournament (sober scrabble - boring) with Jacob and Gregory. Barbara listens, not contributing, surely stockpiling the information so she can tell Melissa later. Melissa, who is thankfully not in the room at the moment. You think you would burst into flames. 

Janine halts her conversation about triple word scores when you throw yourself down into the chair by her. 

“Rough day?” Janine asks tentatively. 

“Long. The kids were focused on literally anything other than The Outsiders.” 

Janine nods. “I get it. Fridays, y’know? It’s always hard to keep them on task.” 

“Well, Y/N,” Jacob starts with a smirk, “my students were actually pretty interested in the topics of your class today. It’s all they could talk about when they sat down for seventh period.” 

You glare at him hard and warn, “Jacob. Do not.” 

Janine looks back and forth between you both and turns to Gregory. “Is there something I’m missing?”

“No,” you say sternly. Your eyes don’t leave Jacob’s shit-eating grin. “Not a thing.”

Jacob, it seems, has exceptionally few survival instincts and carries on giddily, “Y/N’s students found out she writes fanfiction-“

And, oh, good, Barbara is listening now, too. “Fan-fiction?” 

“Why is everyone saying that word today? It’s all I’ve been hearing in the halls since, like, fourth period.” Melissa asks, striding into the break room and taking the seat next to you. 

“I’m going to have to transfer schools,” you say, closing your eyes. 

Melissa pays this no mind. “All the older kids keep looking at me, too. It’s weird.”

You glare daggers at Jacob, whose face must hurt from the width of his smile. 

“So weird!” Jacob says innocently. 

Melissa narrows her eyes. 

“Why are you being weird? And not normal Jacob weird,” she questions, turning to you. “Why is he being weird?”

You slam your boot into Jacob’s shin under the table. “He’s not. No one’s being weird.” 

Melissa’s eyes flick back and forth between the two of you suspiciously. “Okay, someone tell me right now - what the hell is a fanfiction, and what does it have to do with me? And, apparently, Y/N?”

“Melissa, I am so glad you’ve asked, allow me to explain-“ Jacob starts, leaning across the table toward Melissa. 

“Oh my God,” you cut him off. Time to swallow your pride. 

You explain the situation… sort of. You explain in a watered-down way that incriminates you less. 

“So, yeah, they found out, and because I said ‘friend’ they connected it to you, and they misconstrued the whole thing, and it’s literally not a big deal-“ you're rambling and she knows it. 

“Wait,” Gregory stops you, “so this is why I heard Angel say ‘Y/L/N be writing sonnets about that red hair’ during lunch?”

Janine raises her eyebrows. “‘Sonnet?’ Pretty good vocab word.”

“Thank you, Janine! And thank you for focusing on the important part of the matter at hand: my impeccable teaching skills.” 

“So,” Barbara chimes in, “do you or do you not write these little stories about Melissa?”

“Barbara!” You’re mortified. “No! I do not!”

At long last, Melissa speaks. You don’t need to look at her to know there’s a smirk on her lips. “She doesn’t need to. Clearly, the material writes itself.”

“Melissa,” you plead. 

Melissa laughs that laugh, the one that makes the corners of your mouth turn up despite your discomfort. 

“Maybe that could be your end-of-the-year writing project for the kids - make them write that fanfiction,” Melissa teases. 

“You’re just as bad as Angel!” You laugh incredulously and let your hand smack Melissa’s shoulder. The others don’t miss the way Melissa doesn’t break your fingers at the gesture. 

In fact, Melissa's eyes soften as she bumps your shoulder with her own. “No, no, I can see it - newbie woos the Philly Eleven. There’s potential there.” 

You roll your eyes. “Well, I am pretty charming.”

“I’m going home,” Barbara stands up with a polite (if somewhat exasperated) smile, “Very glad we got this out of the way. Have a good weekend, everyone. Y/N… call me later.”

Barbara pats Melissa’s shoulder with a pointed look toward you, and takes her leave rapidly. 

“Uh,” you stare after her. “Yep. Bye, Barb.” 

Melissa’s eyebrow quirks up. “What was that?”

“Dunno,” you reply. “I’m sure you’ll know everything approximately five minutes after I hang up with her, though, so don’t worry.” 

Janine butts in (ah, yeah, the nerds are still here), “You guys call Barbara? Can I have her cell number? I always want to ask her but-“

“No,” you and Melissa say in unison, and Janine sighs heavily. 

You heave out a sigh of your own. “I need to go home - moreover I need to be somewhere no one is asking me about my nonexistent fanfiction habits.”

You stand, and Melissa stands with you as you both gather your belongings. “Impossible. I have your phone number.”

You “accidentally” smack Melissa with your purse, and Melissa “mistakenly” shoves her chair into your leg in a way that makes your knee buckle, and the rest of the Abbot crew watch the scene in morbid fascination. Because the cold hard truth is that if anyone else had dared to do… well, any of this, Melissa would be shoving her earrings into her pocket and removing her heels. Fight or fight instinct, y’know? 

Instead, though, she just swears at you in Italian as you head for the door, grinning widely when you return the sentiment in plain english. 

Ava entering the lounge halts you in your tracks. 

“Y’all will never guess what Angel just emailed me,” Ava exclaims, holding up her phone. “Did you know he knows the word ‘sonnet’? Proud of him.”

“Forward me that?”

Another smack from you. “Melissa, stop!”