#does everyone have me clocked I don’t understand

[thedeadstoryteller1]

Sweet Dreams/ Zanye Spice Fanfic

I finished putting on the last coat of mascara when my phone chimes.  

It’s a message from Zayne: 

Emergency surgery tonight. I’m sorry. Don’t wait for me. I will make it up. 

I let out a groan of annoyance and toss my phone on the bed. For the past month, Zayne has been working overtime at the hospital, with a shortage of medical staff running like the plague. This is the third time he’s had to cancel our dinner plans. I understand the work he does is important; hell, he works so much so he could find a cure to save me from my illness. However the feeling of disappointment and sadness never fails to creep in. I stare at myself in the vanity mirror, disheartened again for having my hair and makeup done so nicely, just for it to go to waste. My hair in loose curls, I spent hours trying to blow it out to give it volume. I was even wearing his favorite earrings and I did a soft glam look. My big statement was the red lipstick that he’d help me choose when we went shopping.  With Zayne’s irregular work hours and my crazy job schedule, we’ve hardly seen each other at all since I moved in with him. It’s been so empty without him here at night, since there are times he’s been sleeping at the hospital. I knew tonight wouldn't be any different; “don’t wait for me” means he's not coming home. Looking at the dress hanging on the closet door a small sigh escapes my lips. I grab my makeup wipes and proceed to take off the freshly finished look. 

“I guess I’ll put you back in the closet…again.” I clean up the vanity and throw the dress in our shared walk in closet. Knowing him, he will pick it up and realize I’m not happy. 

After a few minutes of sulking I decided to hop in the shower again. Washing my hair using my strawberry scented shampoo and his favorite smelling body wash “Jasmine Flower”, I let my sadness out and shed a few tears. Everyone told me about the hard reality of dating a doctor. Zayne, however, always made time and put in so much effort to balance his work life and our life together. That’s why I can’t stay mad at him, no matter how many times I feel this sadness or disappointment. I know it breaks him just as much as me. 

Stepping out of the shower, I let my hair air dry. Normally I’d wear an oversized t-shirt to bed but tonight I went with my silky white lingerie dress. In the slight off chance that he does come home, I wanted to punish him a little bit. Not wearing any panties as well would send him into overdrive.  The very thought of him losing control makes me bite my lip. Flustered, I take it as a sign to go to bed. Following my nightly routine I pick up my phone and text Zayne three simple words. 

I love you

 I place my phone on the nightstand and hop into bed. The scent of Zayne’s cologne on the bed sheets is so faint, a few tears stream down my as I doze off slowly. I’m not sure how much time has passed when I hear the sound of footsteps. Opening my eyes slightly, the clock on my nightstand reads 2:30 am. He’s home?

Zayne is quiet as ever taking off his suit and watch. I know he places them all neatly in his side of the closet. I hear a small “hmm”... he’s definitely picked up the dress and placed it neatly in its home. He jumps into bed beside me. Normally he would shower after coming home from the hospital; he must be exhausted. 

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling my back closer to his chest. I can’t help but let out a small moan; his scent is intoxicating. The smell of hospital and his regular cologne fill the air. Cucumber with mint makes him smell fresh but with an underline of sweet notes like jasmine and lavender. He knows it is my favorite. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping.” He whispers in my ear. My body twitches at the sounds of his voice. I push myself closer to him, placing my ass perfectly on his bulge. He’s wearing just his boxers. His hands move down to my breast, my silky lingerie straps start to fall down my shoulders. 

“I’m sorry.” he says while placing small kisses on my neck's sweet spot.  

“Dr. Zayne, you missed our appointment.” I groan tiredly.  My fingers find his hair, tugging softly. His little moan causes my cunt to vibrate. Feeling his breath against my neck, I turn to face him. His green eyes turned dark with lust. 

“My apologies. Let us start your physical.” He huffs before placing his lips against mine. His soft lips part, sliding his tongue in my mouth. The kiss grows deeper as I grind on him. With each second passing, we pull each other closer. With his hand on my breast, his thumb and index finger make small circles on my hard nipple. We gasp for air, it's been so long since we’ve felt each other's embrace. I craved his body like the desert craves water, and it looked like Zayne craved me too. 

I feel Zayne’s rock hard cock twitching with anticipation, he breaks away from our kiss. He positions himself on top of me. His ears are red and his cheeks are burning hot, and our eyes lock for a moment. No words needed to be spoken. I knew what he was saying. 

I miss you. 

For a moment he admires my figure. Scanning me intently, his breathing is heavy and my cunt is yearning to feel his touch. 

“You’ll need to remove your clothes, so I can properly examine you.” His hand tugs at my lingerie slightly. 

“Y- yes Dr. Zayne.” I pull my lingerie off and over my head, fully exposing my body. Zayne’s eyes glimmer as he takes in my form. His hands travel from my waist, his finger tips moving slowly up my torso. Caressing my skin softly, his touch and the cold breeze send goosebumps down my back. Before anything else can be said he leans over and places his mouth on my right nipple. He sucks slightly on it while moving his tongue around in small circles. A bolt of electricity jumps through me, causing me to moan loudly. His hand makes his way to my wet cunt, using his fingers he teases my inner labia. With up and down motions, seeming like he’s going to finger me. Instead he rubs my clit, causing my legs to shake.  

Zayne’s fingers move slowly around my throbbing clint. My hips sway to his rhythm, the feeling of him touching me is enough to make me explode. I moan his name with each circular motion. 

“Z-z-Zayne.” I cry. His mouth leaves my nipple, and he is once again towering over me, admiring how flustered I am. Closing my eyes with the pleasure,   I know he has a small smirk. He knows what he is doing to make me submit to him. He knows I’m his and his only. Before any more seconds pass, he slides his fingers inside me. My back arches, his fingers moving slowly at first, but his tempo increases with each moan that escapes my lips. 

“You're so wet and hot, darling.” he mutters under his breath. “I want to taste you.” Zayne gives me no time to process his words. He quickly removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue, throwing my legs over his shoulders. His hands hold onto my thighs for support, while his warm sweet tongue explores me like never before. His ferocious licking sends shockwaves throughout my whole body. He spends his time licking my clit, the rubbing motion of his tongue makes my legs start to shake.  

“Z-zayne, I-I’m close baby.” I struggled with my words, the feeling of sweet orgasm so close. 

“Wait for me.” Zayne doesn't hesitate, his boxers flying off the bed.  

“Zayne … I love you.” I say, with that he shoves his cock deep into my pussy. We both let out a loud moan. I grab onto the sheets as he starts stroking. He hits my g-spot everytime as he leans over me, his face buried in my neck. I let go of the sheets and find their way onto his back. My nails make their way into his soft skin; I make sure I don’t hurt him by going too deep. 

“Mhmm.” Zayne moans. “I love you.” he whispers back into my ear. His right hand cups my cheek, while his left hand is used for support so he doesn't crush me. The sound of his grunts in my ear makes my stomach do flips. The feeling of him inside me, stroking hard sends my body into overdrive. I don’t know how much longer I can hold in my orgasm. I want to cum all over his dick, I want to feel his sweet, hot cum inside of me. 

Zayne takes his arms and slides them underneath me and he lifts me up, placing me perfectly on top of him. He holds me close as he continues to drive his dick deep into my cervix. It’s amazing how strong he is, catching a glimpse of his arm muscles flexing. I’m on top of him but he’s doing all the work. I press my forehead to his, locking eyes with him again, his beautiful green eyes gaze into mine. 

“Zayne.” I pant. 

“Cum with me.” He moans.

“Together.” I say as I stare into his eyes. 

No words can describe the sweet feeling of release. He fills me up, causing me to ascend into euphoria. His hot cum inside my body makes me arch my head back, as I let myself go onto him. He holds me close however, not letting me leave his face. He pants profusely, trying to catch his breath. Losing all my strength, I turn into watery mush in his arms. He holds me up, embracing me even harder as he is still inside me. His strength will never cease to amaze me. 

The moon shines brightly into the room, illuminating us. My hair is draped over his face as I continue to lay on top of him, our foreheads still pressed together. His eyes shine brighter. I’m so in love with you, I think to myself. 

“You’re so beautiful in the moonlight.” He says softly, as he kisses my lips again. It’s passionate, two lovers kissing each other again, like it's the last time they will ever get the chance to do so. 

I move away, trying to catch my breath. He smiles, causing me to melt all over again. 

“Don’t leave…please.” I beg him, I blush, trying to hold back the tears. The thought of him having to go back to work breaks my heart into two. 

“I’ve cleared my schedule. We’ll go to the Arctic tomorrow and spend the week there.” 

“B-B-But my work .. I’ve haven't clear-.”

“I've already cleared it with Jenna.” He cuts me off. “ She agrees with. You’ve been working so hard. So its Doctors orders. You rest.”  He whispers. 

I smile, and hug him harder than before. 

“Dr.Zayne. I love you.” I laugh. 

He chuckles slightly and holds me again. 

“Let’s get some sleep my love.” 

We end the night holding each other until we both fall asleep. Tonight I know he won’t have any nightmares, but sweet dreams. For he is smiling in his sleep.

[finderseeker]

@leucoratia Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about him even more

First off, I’m glad this solution seems to be such a hit!! I just couldn’t reconcile the character WD was becoming/had become with what we know of Gaster. So this works well!!! (Despite the questions it raises meta-wise.)

*Rubs my hands together evilly* Okay SO! WD and his relationship with Grandpa here. I haven’t completely decided on anything just yet but I do have some Ideas. Some Notions if you will.

I think there’s pressure to get into the field from family, yes. But I don’t think it was necessarily negative pressure, if that makes sense. Like, I’m not sure it was the kind of thing where they would have been disapproving or upset if he chose some other career, per se. More that they didn’t even consider the possibility that he would choose anything else. Sans is a physicist, Papyrus is an engineer/mechanic/something like that, and they’re both very smart, but WD, oh, he’s the prodigy. He’s the golden child, even for all his quirks and rarities. An anxious disposition and weirdly long tail and unusual font and cracked lip aside, he’s got so much going for him!

I think that, likely, in their efforts to ensure that he didn’t feel any different than anyone else regarding disposition and physical traits/limitations, and that he knew he was ✨special✨ because he’s so smart, his parents probably made it all worse, actually. Not acknowledging that he was, in fact, different and unusual only made him feel more invisible. Which of course made him feel bad, because he was the main focus of his family’s attention. (‘How can I be unsatisfied with when I get so much attention compared to my brothers? Am I just spoiled?’)

He felt he had no time to goof around, no time to play, because he ought to be studying and learning more. ‘Why, with a mind like that, he surely takes after his grandfather in more than just font! Perhaps he will be the next Royal Scientist!’ said everyone. Which, y’know, gets to you as a kid.

While it was only ever meant to be encouraging, the pressure to live up to that was overwhelming. It’s not just that he’s named after his grandfather, it's not just an abstract sentiment for skeletons. He’s got his font. Which, apparently, suggests some other similarities. He’s always The Serious One among his brothers because they’re always goofing off (from his POV anyway) when they should be working! How can they be so lackadaisical? The fate of all monsters rests on them helping their grandfather; how can they be so relaxed just because they aren’t on the clock? Is their pay the only thing that matters to them!? They should be endeavoring to find solutions at all times!

So. Yeah. His mindset is very much shaped by the idea that it’s his responsibility to use his abilities to help others. It’s not as simple as letting his family down. What he wants has never been a factor in the equation, and so he doesn’t linger on it. The way he exists has already dictated his life course. It’s as simple as that. It’s not out of love for others— whether his family specifically or monsterkind at large— but rather out of obligation and responsibility. He does not feel a particularly strong affection towards monsters in general. (The opposite, actually.) He has never seen the surface, and frankly, with as dangerous as humans are, he doesn’t entirely understand why or agree with the idea that getting up there would be a good thing to begin with. But breaking the barrier is the goal that’s been put in front of him, and so that’s what he works towards. Along with the supposedly more achievable goal of “helping people,” despite that being an incredibly vague and nebulous concept with no real direction.

He’s got this whole complex about what he’s supposed to be. No one is actually stopping him from being anything else, but the barriers he’s erected in his own mind feel immovable. If he has all of this ability, how could he not use it? Everyone is relying on him to be as brilliant as his grandfather and carry this mantle, but no one understands the pressure he’s under. No one understands anything! Even Papyrus, who practically never sleeps, doesn’t appreciate why he can’t just “take a break.” If he doesn’t accomplish something, he will never be free from these expectations!

I think deep down that’s why he kind of idolizes sci-fi supervillains? All the intelligence, all the means, and they use it for their own interests! They are beholden to no one, only themselves, and even the “heroes” can never stop them for good. Sometimes, the villains have better motivations than the heroes, even. I think WD’s fantasy, subconscious or not, is being able to go completely off the rails and create and do something utterly selfish. He has some bizarre resentment, I think, against people in general. Maybe it’s envy, in the sense that they lack the burden he does. Maybe it’s some kind of frustration that they’re all just standing around, twiddling their thumbs and waiting for some kind of “salvation” from either the king or from them, the scientists responsible for every other quality of life. If this solution needs to be found so desperately, why is it being left to so few people!? Why aren’t study of human magic and other magical-scientific disciplines a required field in schools? Why is there not a requirement that all who are able work on this pressing issue!?

So. He’s got this buried, probably subconscious resentment. He’s always irritated because of it. It feels like he’s the only one taking this seriously, and therefore the only one who can do anything about it. Rather than be reassured that no one is forcing this on him, his perception is that because no one else will “take it seriously” (read: “work ceaselessly”), it must fall to him. He has to. Because otherwise it will always be hanging over his head.

Now. Grandpa Gaster definitely doesn’t approve of… any of this. (In general, not the supervillain thing. WD is taking that secret to the grave.) Gaster encourages him to take breaks and not work himself so hard. Unfortunately, despite his kindness and reassurance, WD only sees that as, “Look, this is so simple for him that he doesn’t even need to exert effort! He thinks I’m far more capable than I am, he must think I’m accomplishing more than I actually am. I have to work harder so that I can reach that level and live up to this.”

Yeah.

Gaster is quite caught up in his own work, and although he cares very much for his grandsons, I don’t think he’s entirely… connected with them. He doesn’t realize what WD is putting himself through, entirely. He just sees a bright, like-minded young man with a strong work ethic and a love for helping others! Even if he’s a bit prickly and perhaps embarrassed about it. But he’ll come around! Young people are so caught up in how they’re perceived by others; surely WD will mellow as he ages.

(Spoiler: he doesn’t. Or, he doesn’t really get the chance to.)

The biggest difference between them is that Gaster is doing this because he loves people and he loves his work. All his efforts are a labor of love. For monsters, for unity, for freedom, for the universe. WD is doing this because he feels that he must. He is not especially moved by love. He doesn’t gain a sense of purpose from this, he only feels burdened.

Gaster doesn’t quite… pick up on this. I think he would love to have a warm relationship with his grandsons, and prooooobably does more with Sans and Papyrus. WD, meanwhile, has so many self-inflicted mental barriers and blocks and restrictions and obligations that he’s created this artificial distance between them. It really, really doesn’t need to be this way, but unfortunately our perception shapes our reality, and the stronger a person believes something to be a certain way— that is, the less open they are to being wrong— the stronger they shape their reality. Someone like Gaster, who is open to different interpretations and understandings and so on, is more likely to see reality for what it is— but even he’s not infallible, because he is a singular person who has his own experiences and therefore his own perception. He thinks WD is just “at that age” (whatever that means) and is simply trying to prove something or is overly worried about what other people think of him, and that it will pass with time. He doesn’t understand that WD is torturing himself over pressure that isn’t even real.

He thinks it's so wonderful that WD wants to work with him and spend time with him, and oh, he's such a bright young man, he will surely accomplish so much! He's so proud of him.

WD is... not really capable of accepting love (in the form of acceptance or pride) from others right now, because I think he feels like he has yet to earn it, maybe? He's got this impossible standard he's trying to reach,* and he's depriving himself of everything until he can get there. (Which will be never.) He's miserable and it's all self-inflicted. It doesn't even need to be this way. ((He and Seeker (the character) have this in common I think…))

He does love his family. He loves his brothers and his parents (probably?) and his grandfather and his cousin(s). He loves them way more than he'd ever admit out loud. He's exasperated that none of them seem to Get It, but he's so convinced that he's the only one who's right that there's really no telling him otherwise. He doesn’t even know what he wants, only that he doesn’t have it and can’t have it. (Except, he can, of course, if he would just freaking calm down for a second.)

The funny (or sad) thing is that if he could just get past this thing he’s got in his mind, he’d be a much happier, more fulfilled person. If he weren’t busy stressing himself out and running himself ragged (and actually making his own anxiety worse in the process), he’d be a warm, conscientious person and a loving, attentive partner. As it stands, he’s Stress Response Central and essentially is slowly cutting himself off from the people who care about him, rather than rely on them. (This potentially includes Asteri, but their relationship is a whooole different post.)

If he keeps on this path, one of two things is going to happen: he’s either going to end up killing himself (or worse) by falling into the same thing that shattered Gaster in some desperate last-ditch attempt to Fix Everything; or he’s going to crack (no pun intended) under the pressure and burn out in an absolute fireball of metaphorical explosives.

And from the outcome where he doesn’t die/end up meeting a similar fate as his grandfather, there are two outcomes.

So, he’d burn himself out gifted kid style, but like several times worse. Has a complete breakdown and it resigns him to being stuck at home/in bed recovering his mental and emotional energy. But also being extremely depressed and probably rotting a little bit. And isolating even more, honestly.

The good ending would be him slowly recovering and making peace with not being The Only One Who Can Fix Everything, and maybe not even staying in the same field of work (if he can work anymore). The good ending also involves him being on good terms with Tempus again. (But that’s an entire can of worms I’m not touching here.) If he’s anything like me, it’s gonna take a few years (minimum) of rest and recovery after pushing himself that hard. I would not be surprised if he causes some permanent damage to himself (either mentally/emotionally or physically) that renders him unable to work/do what he used to.

The bad ending is that he rots in bed and wallows in depression and mourns the fact that he “wasn’t good enough” to stand up under the weight of everything and Fix It. And he just. stays like that. Isolating himself more and more, refusing to talk even to his brothers. And also Tempus still hates him. And that’s it that’s his whole life. The rest of it is spent mourning and regretting and reliving every decision that got him here, reflecting on all the things he deprived himself of in pursuit of his goal, only to fail and end up unable to have those things now that he has all the in the world. Self-deprivation of pleasure or enjoyment or rest, and for what? To break down under the weight of it all and have none of it anyway. He should have enjoyed what he was offered when he had the chance to accept it.

Anyway, as you can see I have a lot of feelings and thoughts about him (and this isn’t even all of them). I doubt that he resents his grandfather, but I do think that with the way things end up, he feels like a disappointment to him and there’s really no way to ever be assured otherwise because Gaster’s gone by that point. But I guess that’s part of the point, really: that you’ve gotta be okay with where you are so long as you’re doing what you can (to a reasonable degree), even if it disappoints other people. I think WD needs a lot of things but honestly I don’t even know how to begin to help him. He needs to go on vacation.

On an ENTIRELY unrelated note, I may have come up with a really funny (read: “stupid”) solution to the problem mentioned in the second half of the tags on this post.

Which isn’t what I wanted to focus on. I need to work on the stuff I already have going. But. It would be funny and unfortunately sometimes that’s the most compelling thing.

I will elaborate on what this possible solution is tomorrow.

[letterfromajax]

My dad before having astarion join his party: I think you’d like this game

My dad after astarion joined is party: I really think you should play this game you would like it a lot he’s cool

[ontologicalmoki]

unsolicited parenting advice of the day tell your kids what to expect! If your two year old is anxious about when dad is going to get home from work, teach him to recognize what patterns indicate that dad is coming home soon! After lunch we will do an activity and then clean and THEN dad will get home. Listen when the calendar day starts with an S dad does not have to go to work!!

and if something goes wrong and today does NOT go according to the plan your little guy expects, tell him!! Hey, dad has to go to work after all today, but he will be home after lunch! Today dad has to get groceries after work, so he’ll be home later than normal. But he will return with more bananas! Focus on the positives too, give them things they can understand. Don’t just say “not today,” they understand the concept of grocery stores and unexpected trips. Just tell them the problem. You’d hate being in the dark about everything that happens to you also. Let them control their situation, even if it’s just their own emotions and expectations.

or even! Teach them to read an analogue clock! Let me tell you, church nursery in the 1.5-3.5 age group got so much less stressful and anxious for EVERYONE when I taught my kids how to read the clock. They don’t have to ask me anymore how much time is left and fish for answers I can’t give them. They know that their guardians will come for them when the long stripe on the clock touches the 2, and that if they aren’t there then then they’re LATE and they get to hold this over their parents head. Because they know their parents can be late. And they LOVE knowing when this has occurred. There is so much less anxiety.

anyway explain stuff to your kids, they want to know. This has been an unsolicited parenting advice PSA

[triplefrontierbabe]

hello! can i request a dr3 x black cat! reader? we all know dr is like a golden retriever and the dynamic with a tough, badass r, i feel would be so good! it gets to the point where the grid is like “mate your gf is kinda scary” and are legitimately scared of her (except for max, and danny tries to tell them shes not). but one night maybe dr (+more) get tooo drunk and the grid sees how caring and loving r really is (takes care of them) and understands that shes just a tough exterior with a soft loving interior please?

if not, its all good!! thank you 🤍

Opposites Attract

summary: Daniel’s the only person who knows how to crack your hard exterior

pairing: black cat! f!reader x golden retriever! Daniel Ricciardo

warnings: mention of drinking, you are responsible for the content you consume

a/n: I love this prompt!! I truly think Danny has the personality fit for a black cat! gf. hope you enjoy!

Daniel loves to smile, a lot. It’s kinda his thing. If Daniel Ricciardo isn’t smiling then something is seriously wrong. You can’t forget about his contagious laugh that livens up any space he’s in. Overall, he’s just a ray of sun bursting with joy.

So you can imagine the confusion on everyone’s faces when he introduced you as his girlfriend. You, the stoic, keeps-to-herself, only-shows-minimal-expressions girl dating Daniel, the golden retriever of the grid.

To any outsider the relationship dynamic didn’t really make sense. But, to be fair, compared to many other wives and girlfriends of the grid, you keep your life fairly private. You accompany Daniel to his races, you watch the race then you’re ready to go home as soon as the last car crosses the finish line. And, unlike many of the other drivers’ better halves, modeling and being in front of the camera is not your thing.

“I can’t tell if she hates me or likes me? She seems a little intimidating.” Lando says to Daniel one day. Daniel has introduced you to many of his mates and you’ve gotten to know many of them on a personal level outside of the paddock. Your stoicism once again triumphing in confusing the drivers.

“No, she does like you, Lando.” Daniel says. “I know she’s hard to read sometimes but she enjoys the company.”

This was a conversation Daniel found himself having often with other drivers. While you did fraternize with the other ladies, your social battery was quick to wear out on long weekends. Often excusing yourself from conversations because you were tired and could only handle so much interaction in one go.

However, after one race weekend, Daniel somehow convinced you to go out with a group of the drivers and their partners. It was a good race for Daniel, he placed P8, so of course a celebration of points was in order.

“It’ll be fun, I promise!” He tried reasoning with you. He had tried many times before in convincing you to go to a bar or club to celebrate. Only once before was he successful, and that was because it was to celebrate his birthday.

“And, we don’t even have to stay that long” he began “just have a couple drinks, mingle a little bit then leave.”

Now that was a plan you could get behind.

“Okay, I guess.” You said, sighing in defeat. It was one night, that wouldn’t kill you. And who knows, maybe people would see you’re not all that emotionless after all.

The night was going along just fine. Drinks were served, conversations were had, music was played. Max somehow ended up dancing on top of a table which resulted in Daniel joining him.

You and the other girls giggled at the sight of the grown men acting like college frat boys at a rush party. Yes, you giggled too. Lando saw it. He tried to take a mental note, amidst his drunken state, of the expression of emotion you had. Who knows if anyone would ever see that again.

“Mate did you just see Daniel’s girl smile?” Lando asked Charles who was standing close by. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a mental note he made after all.

Before you knew it, the clock had gone way past midnight and many more drinks were had. You, however, tapped out after two drinks. Someone in the relationship needed to be the coherent one for the night and it sure wasn’t going to be Daniel.

“Babe, I love this song!” Daniel shouted over top of DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love as he stumbled towards you and the rest of the group. Once he was standing next to you he started dancing, terribly, attempting to twerk or at least move his butt in a what he thought to be a provocative manner.

As he bumped around you, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene you had now been brought into. Your almost six foot tall boyfriend acting like a newly turned twenty one year old at a bar for the first time. It was truly comical in the way he moved. For being as tall as he was, dancing for him was quite the sight, his lanky arms moving every which way with no rhythm at all.

“Baby dance with me” he whined reaching out to hold your waist and slightly slurring his words in the meantime. He was quite gone. The thing about alcohol and Danny was that it just heightened his golden retriever energy. He’s already very energetic and affectionate while sober, but inebriated? That’s a whole new level.

As much as you were reluctant to leave, you knew if Danny didn’t get to bed soon, the inevitable hangover in the morning would only be ten times worse.

“Okay honey, I think it’s time we head out.” You announce putting an arm around his waist to keep him upright. As soon as your arm is around his tall frame, he leans into your touch just like a puppy who hasn’t seen their human all day.

“But the party’s just getting started.” Daniel said pouting. Once again, a laugh escaped you before you could even process what was happening.

“I know, I know” you began as you put Daniel’s arm around your shoulder. “We can have more of a party later, okay?” You said patting his chest, trying to maneuver him in a way that would make it easy to walk out.

Before heading out, you announce your and Daniel’s departure and thank everyone for such a great night.

The group watches in amazement as you methodically guide Daniel around the crowd and head for the door. And they don’t miss the kiss you press to Daniel’s cheek along the way.

The guys are stunned to say the least.

“I think that’s the most personality I’ve seen from her ever.” Max exclaims, eyes wide at what he just witnessed.

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard her speak before.” Charles adds.

“It’s no wonder he chose her,” George begins, “she keeps him calm.”

So yeah, is your and Daniel’s relationship dynamic totally different on the outside? Sure. But he’s the only one who has managed to open up your heart just enough for him.

Opposites do attract after all.

Check out my Masterlist

[lovebugism]

fictober idea (if ure up for smut): eddie & reader go to a haunted house. eddie, obviously, gets a boner bc hes a weirdo. reader notices & begs to touch him right here, right now even tho theyve never done anything in public before. so, eddie finds a place to *kinda* hide & reader gets him off, but ofc, eddie cant let reader go without cumming as well.

thanks for requesting :D — eddie gets turned on protecting you at a haunted house, and you obv have to reward him for it (smut 18+, 1.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s been called a freak his whole life. He knew he was different since he could understand what being different meant, and if that made him a weirdo, then so be it. But now he thinks everyone might’ve been right about him. He’s a complete, utter, and total freak.

He walks with you through a haunted house, surrounded by creepy masks and fake blood and your screams, and he’s hard. His dick’s as stiff as a rock and throbbing with a distant ache when most people are scared out of their minds.

It’s all your fault, honestly. You’re clinging to him with an ironclad grip and using him as a shield every time something jumps out at you. Eddie can’t even be scared with you because all he can think about is how masculine he feels protecting you like this. Metalhead freaks like him never get to feel this way — all manly and muscly and brave.

And even though it’s hard to walk while adjusting his pants every five steps, Eddie thinks he’s hiding it pretty well. Well, he was, anyway. Until your ass brushes against his lap, and you clock him immediately.

Trapped in a secluded area of the haunted house, lit up red and blaring the Halloween theme song, you spin around to face him. “Are you hard?” you ask him over the music, face twisted in confusion. You’re not weirded out by it exactly, just genuinely puzzled.

Eddie freezes, chocolate eyes wide. He plays coy despite being caught red-handed. “No.”

You shoot him a deadpanned look, brows raised as you peer at him through your lashes.

He caves. “…Yes.”

“Does scary shit turn you on?” you wonder, laughing softly.

“No!” he responds with a dramatic drawl, sounding more offended than he should be. He is standing rock-hard in the middle of a haunted house, after all. He shifts his weight on his feet and stammers for an answer. “I just… I like being able to protect you and… everything.”

“Aw…” you hum, melting into a puddle at his feet. “That’s kinda sweet, actually.”

Eddie’s visibly surprised by your response. He was prepared to get made fun of at best — slapped and dumped entirely at worst. But here you are, all but admiring how much of a freak your boyfriend is.

“Wait, really?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Especially considering last Halloween, the guy I was dating left me behind at a haunted house.”

“Pussy…” Eddie grumbles under his breath.

“Exactly,” you giggle. “So this is definitely an upgrade.”

Your palms smooth up his chest and over his shoulders. Your fingers entwine behind his neck, halfway embracing him in the middle of the haunt. His hands settle warm and wide on your sides. He squeezes you gently there and lets out a sigh of relief.

“I’m just glad you don’t think I’m a total freak,” he confesses with a forced chuckle. 

“Oh, I definitely think you’re a freak,” you retort in a monotone, then flash him a sickly sweet smile. “I’m just too obsessed with you to care.”

Eddie nods and tries not to smile too wide when you lean in to kiss him. “Noted,” he murmurs.

You do a whole lot more than just kiss him, though. You open his mouth with your own and lick inside with a confident tongue. You take the breath from his lungs with little effort, leaving him more breathless than he has been all night.

“Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, slurred and muffled against his mouth.

He jerks away from you on instinct. He couldn’t hide his shock if he tried. “Huh?” he wonders in a tone that borders on cartoonish. His soft features twist in confusion.

“I need your cock in my mouth like I need to breathe,” you confess with an unabashed groan.

Maybe he wasn’t the freak after all. Maybe this whole time, it was you.

“Well, that’sa tad bit dramatic, but—” You cut off his teasing by fussing with the buckle of his belt. His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t try to stop you. “Whoa. Okay. This is… This is great and everything, babe, but there’s— there’s people around. Someone could walk in.”

You look to your left, then to your right. There’s no one here but you and Eddie in this small square room, filled with a fiery red like the warmth swirling in your belly. You blink at him with doe eyes and shrug innocently. “I don’t see anyone.”

Eddie breathes out a laugh, one mixed with amusement and disbelief. “I just don’t wanna us to get caught, babe,” he tells you, smoothing wide palms up and down your arms. “Don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Do you want a blowjob or not?”

“Well, yeah, but I—”

“Good,” you hum with a smile before sinking to your knees in front of him.

Eddie’s too stunned to stop you. He doesn’t want to stop you.

Bathed in a sinful neon red, you unbutton his pants and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his jeans. You tug at the hem of his underwear until his heavy balls hang over the plaid fabric. 

“Shit,” he mutters when you press a sweet kiss to his weeping tip. He bites back a moan when you swirl your tongue around the bulbous strawberry head. “Shit— you’re so fucking hot.”

You worship his cock like it’s not just some random Tuesday in the middle of a haunted house. You don’t mean to, really, but he’s making such pretty noises for you — little puffs of tiny breaths and small whines he tries desperately to hide from you. 

His thighs twitch every time you run your tongue over the veins on the underside of him, going slow to feel the rapid pulse there. His fingers crawl in your hair, palms settling on your temples — not pushing you or pulling you away, just holding you as you suck gently at his aching cock.

His pink lips are parted, airing out little moans of ecstasy. His chocolate eyes are dark and glazed over in a honeyed look. His hair hangs over his face, wild and desperate to be pulled.

You let his tip linger in your mouth, drool pooling around him and soaking his twitching cock. The feeling makes him moan — a deep, hearty sound that stems from his chest. 

When his lolling head drops back, you take him in your fist. You don’t bother to work him up to a rapid pace. Using the lubrication of your spit, you jerk him with an expert hand and lick away the pearly beads of pre-cum he leaks for you.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, eyes rolled back before he squeezes them shut. “Oh, fuck, babe—”

You’re already opening your mouth for his cum before he can warn you it’s coming. You know him too well. You notice all the telltale signs before you think he does — the whimpers, the shaking thighs, the rambled moans, the way his balls draw slightly upward. You’re ready to accept his warm, salty loads the second he gives them to you. 

Eddie cups your warm cheek with a ringed hand. He tries to tell you he’s cumming, but his whines get in the way. He grunts quietly, tilting his head backward and holding tightly to you as cum pulses weakly from his slit. 

The tang dribbles over your tongue and mouth. You take it all with ease. You make a big show of it, too — lolling your tongue out of your mouth and letting his cum drip onto the softening pudge of his head. Eddie’s whole body twitches when you take his sensitive cock in your mouth again to swallow it down, like a goddamn lightning strike up his spine.

“How’d I—” His voice is hoarse, so he has to stop and clear his throat. You smile, lips swollen and spit-slick, as you tuck his soft cock back into his jeans and button them again. His eyes are half-lidded and darkened when you rise to full height. “How’d I get so fucking lucky with you, huh?”

You make a vague I don’t know sound and shrug your shoulders with an innocent grin. You lean into his palm when he puts his ringed hands on your jaw. 

“Jesus fucking christ— you’re so pretty, baby— fuck.”

He’s just rambling now, still a bit dazed from his orgasm. He kisses you harder than anyone’s ever been kissed before, stealing the air from your lungs with ease. It’s like he’s amazed by his own adoration for you — the sheer intensity of it — the way it makes him stupid enough to let you suck his cock in a poorly hidden spot of a haunted house.

You don’t get caught, though. 

Not really, anyway.

There’s a security camera in front of the door you leave from. You make sure to give it a little wave on your way out.

Eddie holds your hand the entire way back to his van, opening the door for you like a total gentleman. It’s not the passenger side door, though, but rather the one in the very back. 

“What are you doing?” you wonder, all innocent like you still don’t have the taste of his cum in your mouth.

Eddie just grins at you, lopsided and pink and boyish. “Gotta return the favor, don’t I?”

[frost-queen]

To be truthful (Reader x Enoch O'Connor)

Requested by: anon Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Emma was finishing setting up the table with Fiona. Holding some of the plates, she tilted her head to look into the hallway. – “Didn’t I call for diner a minute ago?” – Emma said out loud, turning around to look at Fiona for confirmation. Fiona shrugged her shoulders, placing a bowl with fresh cut carrots on the table.

“Should I call again? Miss Peregrine insists upon punctuality.” – Emma rambled on, getting nervous that no one was coming through the door. Setting the plates down on the table she had made up her decision. – “I’m calling them!” – she made clear, holding her hands to her hip.

“You’ve just called.” – Fiona answered with a roll of her eyes. Emma was about to shout when Hugh and Claire came running in. Almost running Emma over with their game of tag. Fiona jumped in front of them to stop them before they would bump against the counter.

With her calm hands, she brought them to a stop. Both were panting loud. Fiona simply had to point at Emma then at the table for them to understand. Horace and Millard entered a moment later. Horace chattering loudly as he blindly went to his seat.

Olive and Enoch joined as well. Olive having a soft smile on her lips. They both went to their seats at the table. Emma looked into the hallway with a worried look. – “Where is Y/n?” – she asked. – “Didn’t you call her?” – Emma turned to Olive and Enoch. Enoch sat down, pulling his shoulders up.

“Do I look like her babysitter?” – he answered rudely. Olive gave him a little glare to not be so negative from across the table. Emma’s gaze fixed on the clock, knowing Miss Peregrine would arrive any moment for diner. It made her panic that you still weren’t here.

Enoch jumped out of his skin, startled as he gripped the edges of his chair with a tight grip once you had popped up behind him. – “Bloody hell Y/n!” – he cursed out that you had scared him. You placed your hands on his shoulder, coming to lean over his shoulder.

“Did I startle you Enoch?” – you asked sweetly as he pushed your grip off him. Groaning in annoyance. – “Good of you to join us Y/n.” – Miss Peregrine said entering the room. You quickly went to your seat right across from Emma. – “Good day Miss Peregrine.” – you all called out in unison as she went to sit at the head of the table.

“Fiona splendid work with the vegetables.” – she complimented. Fiona smiled sheepishly, leaning back in her seat rather bashful. – “Now shall we eat.” – she unfolded her napkin to lay it on her lap. The moment was set as everyone got in motion. Reaching for food, chatting and laughing away. From at the other head of the table, you noticed Enoch staring at you or rather glaring at you.

You moved a bit forwards so he could see your face fully. You returned his glare with a sweet smile. Enoch only narrowed his eyes more, swallowing hard. Olive gave him a nudge. – “Stop glaring.” – she whispered to him. Enoch exhaled soft, turning his head away. – “It’s okay Olive. I know Enoch means well.” – you told her with another smile.

Enoch clenched his jaw, trying not to freak out about that. – “Don’t make assumptions for me!” – Enoch replied. – “Why do you dislike Y/n so much?” – Horace questioned as everyone adored you. Enoch leaned a bit forwards. – “Stay out of it.” – he shout-whispered. Miss Peregrine observed from afar. When you turned your head, you caught up with her gaze. With a soft smile, she winked at you.

After diner, the youngest ones were free to play, while the older ones were left to clean the table. You started collecting plates, stacking them on each other. Emma stood by the sink, letting water down to start the dishes. You popped up beside her, giving her a soft fright. – “Goodness Y/n.” – Emma blurted out, one hand on her heart. – “Can’t you just walk. The table is right there.” – she pointed out at how close it was.

It would only take one a few steps to reach her. Yet you chose to teleport yourself beside her. – “Y/n likes to be special.” – Enoch mocked holding a few glasses. You teleported away from Emma, appearing behind Enoch. – “I like teleporting.” – you told him as he had jumped back. With a loud groan he handed the glasses over to Olive.

You started collecting the cutlery. – “Y/n.” – Emma said daringly with a warning finger to not pop up behind her. You puffed soft. – “You are no fun.” – you mumbled, walking up to her instead of teleporting. – “Satisfied?” – you asked dropping the cutlery in the sink. – “Very.” – Emma responded, patting you on the head.  – “Now help me.” – Emma took a towel, laying it on your head, having a laugh at it. You pulled it down.

Giving her a nudge with your hip against her to make some room. Emma started washing the dishes as you dried them. Olive and Enoch putting away the left overs into the fridge. Whilst Enoch was working, he couldn’t help himself but admire you. Gaze upon you and watch what you were doing. Olive noticed it, giving him a little nudge in the side.  – “You are staring.” – she whispered in his ear. – “I am not.” – Enoch grunted out.

He quickly averted his gaze, yet he kept being drawn to you. Emma and you were chatting whilst finished the dishes. Olive joined the two of you, putting the dishes away. Enoch cleaning the table. After cleaning, you immediately popped away. Emma shrugged her shoulders, leaving the room to head outside. Enoch left as well with Olive right behind him. – “Are you going to play with your dolls?” – she asked, holding her hands behind her back.

“Maybe.” – he responded, looking over his shoulder to her. A part of him wondered where you were. With a soft sigh, he went upstairs with Olive. Pausing almost at the top of the stairs, he saw you walk across the hallway to your room. There you were. Olive poked him in the back to move. Enoch got in motion, heading for his room as he couldn’t help himself but glance at your door. Olive noticed it, stopping to knock on your door. – “What are you doing?” – Enoch panicked.

“Asking if Y/n wants to join. Don’t you want that?” – she said having a sense of his feelings towards you. It had become clear to her for a while now that his act of dislike towards you was just a charade. A façade to hide behind. Enoch tugged his hands in his pocket, looking away. Olive knocked again as you hadn’t opened the door yet. Grabbing the handle, she opened the door. – “Y/n?” – she asked softly, popping her head inside.

To her surprise your room was empty. – “Must have teleported out.” – Olive let out, closing the door once more. With a smile, she returned to an almost sweating Enoch. – “Now you mustn’t worry. She’s not here.” – she teased, patting him against his shoulder. They entered his room as Enoch went to sit. A doll in front of him on the table. Olive picked up one of his tools, already presenting it to him.

“Thank you.” – he said accepting the tool. He started working on the doll. – “Enoch.” – Olive started, hearing him hum loud. – “You like watching Y/n do you not?” – she asked as he nearly had a heartache. With wide eyes, he dropped his tool. In shock turning round in his chair to her. – “What?” – he called out. Olive giggled amusingly. – “I’ve noticed you watch Y/n a lot from afar.” – she explained. Enoch puffed loud. – “I do not.” – he replied turning back to his doll.

“It’s alright Enoch, you mustn’t be frightened of it.” – Olive went on handing him another tool. – “Of what?” – Enoch answered bitsy. – “Of having feelings for Y/n.” – Olive finished. Enoch’s hand slipped as he broke a piece off the dolls porcelain chest. He turned around getting up. – “I do not have feelings for Y/n!” – he shouted as Olive was unimpressed. – “Enoch, just admit it. Why are you even scared to admit it?” – she asked. – “I don’t have anything to admit as it isn’t true!” – he made clear with a glare.

“Liar!” – Olive shouted back, having enough of him lying to himself. – “You like Y/n and you are too afraid to admit it.” – she started, poking him in the chest. – “So you better stop being so scared and let yourself love her!” – Enoch fell back in his chair with her sturdy poking in his chest. Speechless, he stared at her. He had never seen her speak so loudly or react so vibrant. – “So Enoch O’Connor, you are going outside, find Y/n and be nicer to her as a beginning.” – she ordered him, pointing firm at the door.

Enoch shook his head, not wanting to do it. Olive removed a glove, showing her hand that caught fire to him. – “Don’t make me burn your puppets.” – she threatened. Enoch stumbled out of the chair, sweating with shock as he rushed downstairs to do as he was told. Too afraid Olive might actually burn his puppets or himself for the matter if he didn’t act upon his feelings. Olive sniffed out the fire, having a satisfying smile on her face.

------------------------------------------

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[moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown]

The itch

An: so I’ve never written for TUA, I think, I haven’t written anything in like a long time cause my brain is made of worms most days, but the new season and mostly five in his new attitude? Personality? His almost soft tired of it all way, gives me the feelings. As a 28 year old women it’s odd that a 68 year old trapped in a 18 year old body works for me like it does but hey, I’ve liked weirder (cough I was in the Hamilton fandom cough) so enjoy this sort of bonding with Lila over the new mundane life and the exhausting reality of having to live it, because I love Lila and hate what they did to her and fives characters with the whole 7 year time line romance. Like why make her a mum of 3 and married to Fives brother just to ruin it like that. But anyway enjoy this weird fic.

Readers power: molecular manipulation, think piper from charmed, overhaul from my hero, uhhh it’s hard to explain but basically it means you can make things explode, freeze people and things by fucking with the molecular structure of said thing.

——————————————————————-

You wanted to scream, to smash things, to burn yours and fives apartment down, it had been six years of calm, six years of learning to enjoy ‘normal’. Six years of working at dead end jobs because you didn’t pass the god damn psych evaluation for the CIA, somehow you are far more ‘unhinged’ than your husband.

You and five spent 30 years together, a decade in an apocalyptic wasteland when you ended up teleported there by mistake, and then 20 years at the commission becoming trained and ruthless assassins. Now, now Five worked doing CIA investigations and you got stuck working at a grocery store gas station. It was calm, it was normal, it was absolute hell on earth and made your skin itch.

So sitting in the parking lot of the play place for your nieces 6th birthday, you didn’t know why you couldn’t make yourself leave your car, five was already here, he had texted you as much, everyone else minus Viktor who was in Canada, and Allison who hasn’t shown her face irl to any of her siblings in the 6 years, you just needed to get out of the car and walk in with the gift you signed from both you and five for Gracie. It was a set of toy weapons, knives like her dads old ones, and a few other random ‘play pretend’ things.

Closing your eyes you leaned your head back against the head rest, taking a deep breath. Almost hitting the gas when the passenger side door opened and slammed closed. Turning eyes wide you saw Lila, the exhausted mothers face blank staring forward

“I just needed a minute, just needed” you nodded

“Take all the minutes you need. I assume it’s like pulling teeth in there with Diego?” Lila nodded sighing loudly

“Fives the same way, just on other stuff, like deciding if he wants to go out to dinner or stay in and order pizza, or if he needs new underwear because the ones he has have so many holes in surprised they still count as underwear, or just simple things like the dishes, like how hard is it to wash a cup, it shouldn’t be as hard as it is, how hard is it to just tell me when you need a quiet night cause work was stressful, and you are exhausted from stupid people all day, i work retail, he acts like I don’t understand being tired of idiots…I just…” you paused looking back out the windshield

“It’s like your skin is on fire and nothing stops the itch of being a once highly skilled assassin who could fuck with peoples molecules and freeze them in time or make them explode?” You nodded looking at her

“I find myself flicking my hands out and remembering I can’t just blow up or freeze people anymore, it’s like an itch and anytime I explain it to five he just…”

“Doesn’t listen? Or doesn’t understand that you are used to how your life was and now that it’s different, it’s not bad but it’s eye burning mundane clock ticking by slower then ever reality?”

Nodding you sighed

“Diego, he wants to listen, he just, from what five always told me he had a hard time understanding others because his brain is just, frazzled and he feels inadequate, how they grew up I guess shaped them in every timeline. Five is just used to being alone he was alone for 30 years before we met, then I popped up and it’s just. I don’t think he gets that sometimes I just need him to..”

“Let you Help with the itching”

You nodded smiling at her

“He just, it’s been a lot, and we haven’t quite got the ‘normal life’ down just yet.” Lila nodded

“It’s not easy in normal marriage land either, 3 kids and a chunky husband who, doesn’t make it easier is….”

“Not helping the itching. Well how about me and you, when the itch gets too bad, we help each other? Maybe find a way to do something, go to a rage room? Do a fighting class something to feel the….rush? Of what we did before. Have Klaus or someone babysit the kids, be me and you and just….”

“Fighting each other like the before days?” You laughed nodding

“Yeah…I miss getting to kick your ass and having you kick mine…”

Lila laughed looking around

“We could start a fight club, you, me, Ben when he gets out of prison. Just….maybe we’ll get used to normal eventually….” You frowned nodding

“You know if you ever need anything, help with the kids, a friend to vent to when Diego is being Diego…I’m not to far from your guys place. I can always swing by, let the munchkin tornados beat up on auntie Y/N.” You smiled at her for all the mess you and her had been in against each other, she had become one of your closest friends and family members through it all.

Soon enough you finally made your way into the building, the screams of children everywhere, the smell of sugar and something faintly child everywhere. You spotted five by the ball pit, speaking with Ben, walking over you hugged five from behind sighing as you rested your forehead against his back

“Hello, love.” You squeezed him in response before looking up and over to Ben

“Ahh Benjamin, free from jail, good to see you didn’t die, love that you still look like you want to murder us all” Ben didn’t laugh, just glared at you before sighing

“Not in the snark mood got it.” You felt five squeeze your arm a bit pulling away from you, making you groan

Turning to fully look at you, he looked you over smiling softly

“How was work?” You looked at him blinking slowly before sighing and planting your forehead on his chest, groaning

“Ahh I see” his hand rubbed your back softly, his other lifting the beer to his lips.

“People are stupid. How hard is it to put a gas nozzle in a car….”

“Apparently impossible if what you tell me says anything” you looked at him nodding before turning to look around

“10 bucks says Diego forgets to put up the piñata like Lila asked him” five laughed slightly

“Nah 20 says Lila has a mental breakdown before cake is served” you looked over to where Lila stood with Gracie helping the young girl fix her party hat,

“Nah I think she has a breakdown after presents when she sees what we got Gracie” five laughed looking down at you, brushing the stray hair from your face, smiling at him you sighed softly again,

it seemed even if you wanted to rip your hair out from the new ‘normal’ reality you all had to live in, even if your skin itched from the need to return back to what life was before somehow, it was nice that you still had small moments, where normal wasn’t so bad, normal birthday parties for your nieces and nephews, seemingly normal holidays, and normal, non murder happy work. As much as you loathed admitting it, sometimes it was nice. Like now, now was nice.

[livwritesstuff]

you know that feeling where you’re having a god-awful day and all you really want is a hug but you’re at work so, like, that’s not gonna happen, and you basically just have to stew in all those shitty feelings and wait out the clock? yeah, me too, that’s kind of where this came from.

Eddie had a tough day.

It had started early that morning when the girls missed their school bus – not a huge deal, honestly, he was already gonna be leaving early to go get his car looked at.

But then he got shitty news from the mechanic, and then a meeting with his agent didn’t go the way he’d wanted at all, and then Hazel ended up being a total pain in the ass after he picked her up from kindergarten, and during her relentless haranguing, she knocked one of Eddie’s favorite mugs off the counter. It shattered, obviously, and she cried about it so he’d had to deal with both of those things at once, and it was just a day.

None of it was anything he couldn’t handle – the problem was the compounding nature of it and the way he basically just had to stew in it all until the next obstacle came along and made shit even worse.

All Eddie really wanted was Steve, and how Steve being around made dealing with this stuff so much easier, even if every other circumstance was the same.

He has to share Steve, though, and today he’s sharing him with Steve’s work until four o’clock.

It’s fine.

He can wait until four.

The older two girls got off their bus at half-past three, and, seriously, someone must have put something in the water this morning because they are in rare goddamn form today. If Hazel alone was bad, all three of them together were…well, thrice that. It’s like the universe said I see your bad day and I raise you three elementary schoolers hitting their peak annoyance thresholds simultaneously.

And it’s not like Eddie can even fucking fold, either.

It’s cold and kind of windy outside, which is Eddie’s least favorite weather and he’d thought maybe the girls would want to go right inside, but no. Of course they want to dig out the chalk that got stashed away in the garage last fall, and while Eddie is stuck shivering outside breaking up dumb arguments about who’s allowed to use which colors (he figured the answer was an obvious everyone, but apparently that’s incorrect), Steve leaves a message saying he tacked on an emergency session onto the end of his day and now he’s not out until five.

Eddie doesn’t hear it until he’s back inside, obviously, but when he does it’s like someone ran a whole fucking dagger through his chest.

He’s halfway through making dinner when Steve gets home (he’d actually be done making dinner if the pot of water hadn’t boiled off while he’d dealt with yet another stupid argument), and he drops everything to meet him at the door.

It’s like Steve can tell in an instant the kind of day Eddie had.

“What happened?” he asks as he toes off his shoes.

Eddie shakes his head, “Everything…nothing…I don’t even know. Just…one of those days.”

Steve nods his understanding, and as soon as he’s got his coat hung up he’s pulling Eddie into a hug.

It ends up being kind of a bone-crushing one — that’s on Eddie, though. He’d just fucking needed it. He knows he’d needed it when Steve’s arms tighten around his shoulders and he feels that much better.

“You okay?” Steve asks without letting him go, the breath of his words hitting warm against Eddie’s neck.

“Just tired,” he answers.

Steve pulls away.

“You can take a break, Ed,” he says, and there’s something in his eyes – not concern, exactly, but more like awareness, “I’ll be up in a bit.”

Eddie just nods and heads for the stairs. As he goes, he faintly hears Steve asking, “What the hell did you guys do to Dad today?”, followed by the girls’ defensive protests.

In their room, Eddie makes it through one full rerun of Star Trek and then the first few minutes of a second before Steve joins him.

He notices that it’s quiet downstairs for the first time that evening, and he tries not to take it too personally. He’s always been comfortable in the knowledge that Steve might be better at the whole parenting thing than him (psych degrees and all that), but, shit, if he’s that much better…

“What’d you do, strangle them?” Eddie asks as Steve swaps his jeans out for a pair of faded plaid pajama pants.

“No, I told them that if I hear a single peep in the next hour I’m beheading all their stuffed animals.”

Eddie blinks.

Okay, maybe better isn’t exactly the right word.

“So they’re on verbal lockdown, basically,” Steve finishes.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Eddie shakes his head, “You’re kind of crazy.”

“Yeah, well, you were always gonna rub off on me one of these days — don’t.”

And Eddie couldn’t help the way he threw his head back and laughed.

[hotpinkstars]

LAZY MORNINGS - aventurine x reader

- your husband gets a call early in the morning, kicking a start to your day. but instead of him going into work, he stays in your arms.

- hellooo everyone! i'm back and i changed my theme up a little bit. thank you to all of the condolences i received, it made me smile and also made me happy :) but i feel ready enough to write once again, and i've been having aventurine brainrot...... hm... also my bad if this is really ooc i've read most of the penacony story and have payed extra to aventurines parts (i can also write ratio for all you ratio simps who want more food..) but my brain is wired weird so.... i fuck some things up anyways enjoy!!!!!!!!!

- no warnings, wc 528

You wake up, and immediately check the clock on the side of your nightstand. It reads 5:30 am.

You rub your eyes, scanning the room before your eyes land on your husband, Aventurine, who's got one hand in his hair and the other holding his phone up to his ear.

He was a beautiful sight; his eyes half open, hair messy, and pajamas in a bundle with one button keeping it on his torso. You lay a hand on the naked part of his chest, letting him know you were awake. He looks down at you, shooting you a soft smile before speaking into his phone.

“...Alright, I understand,” He said, his tone laced with irritation and sleepiness. “Lets schedule the interview for today.”

You sighed, replacing your hand with your head, trying to go back to sleep. You pull the silk sheets over your ear, everything below your eyes covered by the warm covers. Aventurine wraps an arm around your body, hanging up on the man who called to inform him of what you assumed was something important, and put his phone down next to him.

“Sorry if I woke you, sweetheart,” He sighs, wrapping his other arm around your torso. You nuzzle into him, eyes closed. You mumble something incoherent, and he chuckles. “Someones tired this morning.”

You nod, and he kisses the top of your head. “Do you have to leave early this morning?”

“Nope, not today. They wanted me to, but I'll just say I didn’t feel well enough to get out of bed. I don’t miss work too often, so they won't bat too much of an eye, hopefully."

You giggle a bit, snuggling even deeper into his chest, his heartbeat audible. It comforted you, it always does, and you could’ve fallen asleep right away if it weren’t for his voice keeping you conscious.

“I wish I could bring you to work with me, but unfortunately I can’t. I have to work with Ratio again today,” he groans, putting a hand up to his forehead. “I’d rather spare you of the nuisance he is.”

You laugh once more. “I bet he’s not that bad. You just make him sound like a geek, that’s all.”

“He’s much more than that. Much more insufferable.”

“I doubt it.”

You both laugh before simply holding each other. It seemed like it was only the two of you on this planet; the sounds of birds chirping brought a harmonious feeling, and it was as if none of your worries were able to break through your bedroom door and haunt you.

You tried to stay awake with your husband, considering he was probably up for the day due to the ever so rude interruption at such an early time in the morning. He was used to waking at this time, so he would’ve likely been up soon anyway. You, on the other hand, usually wake up when he’s long gone for the day, so it’s just natural to want to sleep a little longer.

“Fall back asleep, babe,” he pressed a tiny peck to the top of your head, burying his nose in your soft locks. “I’ll be here when you wake back up.”

[neostrayteez]

SOMEONE WITH SECRETS

PAIRING. lee jeno x female reader

WORD COUNT. 6.9k

SUMMARY. you have detention thanks to your temper and unfortunately, so does jeno, the boy you hooked up with last summer.

WARNINGS. smut, profanity

PLAYLIST. “gangsta” by kehlani

YOU GOT ME HOOKED UP ON THE FEELING GOT ME UP SO HIGH I’M BARELY BREATHING

The library was quieter than usual. There was almost an echo to the old clock on the wall, ticking by the seconds that felt like hours. A minute may as well have been a day in here.

You were - humiliatingly - two minutes early. It wasn’t that you were eager to serve your sentence, but political science finished a bit fast and you were actively avoiding your peers after the scene you made during lunch that landed you in here.

Their looks of scorn, adoration and worst of all, pity, were uncomfortable.

The library was empty. A perfect place to lay low and hide. You picked a seat at the second table a respectable distance from the front. Mr. Kim waltzed in, looking perturbed as ever, and called you by name.

“A whole week, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

He bobbed his head.

You were lucky not to be suspended for the outburst, but your squeaky clean record up until this point had swayed the principal in your favor.

Mr. Kim checked his watch. For a moment, there was a tiny sliver of hope that you would have the library all to yourself, serving detention alone. But then, five minutes late, Jeno strutted through the door.

“What’s up, Mr. Kim?” he asked gruffly.

You wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

Jeno noticed you, his eyes locking onto you like a sniper’s scope, and pure mischief spread across his face along with a grin.

“You’re late, Mr. Lee!”

“Well, well, well,” Jeno taunted, as if he’d not heard him, cocking his head and sticking his tongue out at you. “What do we have here?”

“Fuck off, Jeno,” you grumbled.

Mr. Kim chided your choice of language and barked, “Mr. Lee, take your seat.”

“Of course, sir,” Jeno said silkily, dropping into the chair directly behind yours.

You rolled your eyes. Of all the tables and chairs, he positioned himself there to be a nuisance to you. You expected nothing less.

Jeno leaned forward. “You know, ‘fuck off’ isn’t what you said to me the last time we were alone together,” he whispered in mocking. “It was more like, ‘Fuck me, Jeno. Ooh. Ahh. Fuck me.’”

You flushed with embarrassment and your heart dropped into your stomach. You didn’t need to be reminded of the ridiculous shit his dick made you say that night.

To your relief, Mr. Kim spoke like he didn’t hear the filth rolling off Jeno’s tongue, “You’ve both got an hour in here. No talking. No running about. Just sit and contemplate your bad decisions.”

You and Jeno fixed him with equally blank stares.

“But since I know you won’t, just study or nap. Whatever. I don’t care.” Mr. Kim pointed his finger squarely at Jeno. “Just no funny business that could get me scolded by the principal. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, sir,” you and Jeno said in sync.

Mr. Kim gave a nod and left, adding that he would be checking in every once and a while to ensure nothing scandalous occurred on his watch.

The moment the door closed, Jeno stood, flipped his chair around and straddled it. Overlapping his arms on the back, he said, “Never thought I’d see the valedictorian in detention.”

“You know why I’m in here,” you hissed, leaning back, trying not to let him get under your skin. Of all people, to be stuck with Jeno? This was an extra serving of penance you didn’t sign up for.

It’s not that you disliked him. Not entirely anyway. It’s just that Jeno had the ability of seeing right through you. You couldn’t fool him or sway him, like you could everyone else. Jeno had you completely mapped out after one night.

And what a night that had been.

Jeno chuckled. “I must say, watching you fuck Kylie up in the cafeteria was not on my bingo card for this semester, but it was a thrill. The judo-style throw to the ground was immaculate.”

He was tempted to add that you had permission to throw him like that any time you so desired.

You snorted, but said nothing. You didn’t feel guilty about fighting Kylie - the bitch had it coming the moment she crossed you - but fighting wouldn’t look good on your pristine record. And although you’d already landed a coveted spot at an Ivy League school plus a hefty scholarship, you were in no position to jeopardize either with your temper.

Jeno scooted his chair toward you noisily. “Why’d you fight?”

Folding your arms across your chest, you turned to finally look at him and snapped, “How many languages can you say ‘none of your business’ in?”

“Three. Now, come on.” Jeno whined your name. “We’ve got an hour in here together. Plus five extra minutes, in my case. Tell me why you leveled her.”

You clamped your lips shut.

Jeno was nothing but persistent. “Did she plagiarize your essay? Did she make fun of your clothes?” Jeno lowered his voice and asked, “Did she steal a certain boy from you?”

A bolt of anger went rushing through you like lightning. Whipping around to face him again, your eyes shone with emotions you went to great lengths to hide. “You know?”

Jeno nodded.

“Everyone knows. Don’t they?”

He nodded again, but this time, the mischief was gone from his face.

You hung your head. There was no way to adequately describe this feeling. You wanted to cry and would probably feel better if you did, but you dared not shed a single tear over a boy that didn’t love you.

The saddest part was you thought he could. It stung the most. Like getting bit and feeling the venom slowly poison you for days afterward until you finally succumbed. The bite itself was bad enough, but to languish in misery and pain? That was cruel.

Jeno got up from his chair and took the seat beside yours. He stretched his arm out on the table and propped his head in his hand, trying to search your face, but you were well-hidden behind your hair.

You didn’t say anything when Jeno tenderly tucked some of the strands behind your ear.

“Don’t lose sleep over Mark Lee.”

“I won’t,” you said roughly, lifting your chin high and forcing out the breath you’d been holding, along with the tears you successfully stifled.

Jeno smiled. Then, seeing you were no longer on the verge of crying, resumed his teasing. “I never thought someone like you would fight over a boy. It’s beneath you.”

Your lips parted in disbelief. “I wasn’t fighting over him,” you exclaimed. “I fought her because she disrespected me.”

You were telling the truth. The moment Mark betrayed you, your feelings for him evaporated into thin air. Jeno was right. You would never chase after a boy. The betrayal still stung though.

Jeno smirked and licked his lips. “Well, you definitely got your respect back, baby girl.”

You grimaced. “Don’t call me that.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but we hooked up last summer. Didn’t we?”

“That doesn’t mean you can slap a dumb pet name on me.”

“Not the only thing I slapped, if memory serves,” Jeno murmured darkly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. The heavy smack of his hand landing on your naked ass echoed in your mind. The memory was still fresh, like it happened yesterday, and it made you press your thighs together.

That was what frustrated you most about Jeno - your body craved him, remembering how good he made you feel.

Satisfied by your reaction, Jeno sat up, slouching in the chair. He spread his long legs, his knee brushing against your thigh, but you didn’t move away. You didn’t want to give him an ounce of submission.

If you gave him an inch, he would turn it into a mile.

You sized him up. Jeno looked a little too good with long hair, dark like his eyes. The leather jacket fit him like a glove, as always - he never left home without it, and his jeans looked ripped from use and not that he bought them that way.

Jeno marched to the beat of his own drum. He didn’t give a shit what people thought about him, but they knew better than to voice any opinions either way. Jeno lived in detention for bending people into submission with force. He didn’t tolerate disrespect on his name.

Apparently, you had that in common.

It took you a moment to realize you were eyeing him. Who could blame you? His thick thighs in those jeans warranted at least an extra second or two of staring.

Jeno was enjoying it. He smirked. “Like what you see, baby?”

“You look good,” you said shamelessly. You had history together. You knew he liked to be complimented on his body and looks. And if you fucked someone, didn’t that give you license to flirt with them later?

“Thanks. So do you,” Jeno replied, eyes lingering on your cleavage.

You started to grin and quickly turned your head to hide it.

That didn’t matter. Jeno knew you were pleased. And he wanted to lewdly elaborate that you looked mouth-watering. With your pretty black skirt and v-neck tee. Your body was strong from volleyball, where you spiked the ball almost as hard as you socked Kylie in the face for stealing from you.

Rumor had it you crushed on Mark Lee for months and his oblivious self had no fucking idea where to buy a clue. You finally had the courage to make a move on him - as much as it killed you to be the one to initiate - but after one perfect date after another, you thought there was a future between you and Mark.

Which was dashed the moment Kylie flaunted the hickies on her neck and the bruises on her thighs Mark had left behind at a party.

Jeno frowned. Mark didn’t deserve you. You needed someone worthy that could match your fire and energy, not staunch it. Someone that would protect your heart and worship your body.

Kylie would have never been able to take Jeno away from you. He was as loyal as he was fearless. Any disrespect showed to you, was disrespect shown to him.

But… you weren’t his, Jeno remembered.

His mind wandered, back to the summer. Jeno could still smell the salt of the sea as it wafted on the breeze through the open windows. He could still hear how you moaned his name and sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could still feel your fingernails dragging down his back as he fucked you in the backseat of his car.

Mr. Kim walked in then, whistling as he did. He saw Jeno’s new position beside you and the look of sheer annoyance on your face, and quirked a brow, but nothing else was amiss so he didn’t care. Jeno gave him a wave, you offered an awkward smile, and Mr. Kim returned to his office with a half-hearted warning to behave yourselves.

As Mr. Kim’s footsteps echoed further down the hall, Jeno slid his chair closer to yours, but this time, he crowded your back.

You felt the heat of him first and you shivered when the scent of him really hit you. His cologne was something earthy and clean, but curiously, he smelled like strawberries, which caught you off-guard. That was when you noticed he was chewing gum.

Jeno blew a bubble that burst with a loud pop.

“Strawberry?”

“Mmhm. Want some?”

“No thanks.”

Jeno raked his eyes up and down your body. He so badly wanted a taste of you, no matter how small it was. If you only knew he would do anything you asked of him for a kiss.

He closed the rest of the distance between you, which wasn’t much, and brushed your hair to the side slowly, leaving your neck exposed for him to begin trailing soft kisses up the column of your throat.

“Jeno...,” you said, your tone full of warning, but you didn’t tell him to stop.

Jeno slipped an arm around your waist like a snare, shifting you toward him. He was logging away every second that you didn’t push him away. “Hm?”

“If you get me in trouble,” you mumbled, but your actions betrayed your words. You tipped your head back, giving him even more access to your neck, and you reached behind to slip your fingers into his long hair. You’d been wanting to run your hands through it since you laid eyes on him.

Damn it. Why does he have to feel so good?

Jeno chuckled darkly. You were falling apart in his arms, just like you did last summer. He kissed and suckled the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and tightened his grip around you until your shoulders were flush against his chest.

There was definitely a connection. Jeno’s heart didn’t race when he saw other girls, even the ones he’d hooked up with, but any time he caught a glimpse of you, his heart went wild, taking his pulse with it.

You hummed, eyes fluttering closed. His kisses grew louder and wetter, nibbling aggressively beneath your jaw. He was turning you into mush. You could feel yourself getting weaker, running your hands over those burly arms, imagining them around your naked waist as he drilled you from behind.

In an instant, you were back in his car, feeling it rock underneath you with Jeno’s rough movements. He filled you so deeply - so completely. You felt a pleasure and release more than you’d ever known before.

Jeno was the best sex of your life; a crown no other boy had come even remotely close to taking from him.

You remembered where you were (which was not the backseat of his car, unfortunately) and why you were there in the first place (because of a stupid boy that broke your heart), and you unwound Jeno’s arms from your waist and shook free of him.

Jeno studied you, cocking his head coyly. His eyes, though clouded with lust, were also twinkling with affection. Like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“We can’t,” you said weakly.

Jeno purred your name. “You can kiss me. There’s no one here, but you and me. Just you and me.”

You wavered. He had never looked so kissable than at that moment.

What the hell was this emotion sitting heavily on your chest? Had you missed Jeno? You would never voice that though. You were no fool.

Jeno reached for your waist slowly, giving you every chance to draw away from him or bat at his hands, but you didn’t. He steered you toward him again, this time face to face, and whispered, “I’ve missed you.”

That makes two of us, after all.

“I’ve been here the whole time,” you told him, a little stern, your expression sour. “You could have asked me out.”

“Pfft.” Jeno scoffed dramatically. “Yeah, the deadbeat and the valedictorian. Very Beauty and the Beast of us. What would your friends say?”

You’d never seen him so bitter. It almost knocked you back. “You think my friends have any say over who I date?”

“Yes, because that’s why you wanted Mark as bad as you did.”

You bristled. Did he really think that little of you? Or was that jealousy talking?

Jeno kept going, pretending to swoon. “Perfect Mark Lee. Top athlete. Class president. Headed to an Ivy League, like you. Rich parents. He’s the whole pretty package.”

“I liked Mark because he was kind. Not because of what he had,” you said in a small voice.

“Sure, babe.” Jeno rolled his eyes.

Your first instinct was to get annoyed, maybe even offended, but instead, you saw right through him. As Jeno shifted away from you, you moved closer to him and asked, “Do you wanna know why I slept with you last summer?”

“Because you were horny?”

“Because you asked me to dance with you.”

Jeno paused.

You chuckled fondly to yourself, thinking back to that night. You and Jeno never crossed paths at school, but fate must have been at play then.

“I was so tired and burnt out and stressing over every goddamn thing in my life that I had to get right, and I was wondering what the hell I would do if I failed. If I screwed everything up and let everyone down. My whole family is counting on me to make something of myself.”

Jeno listened, looking at you a little differently.

You smiled as you said, “You approached me at that party. You made me laugh. You got me to dance for the first time in years. I used to love dancing. You made me forget how fucking exhausted I was for a night.”

A grin spread itself across Jeno’s lips. “And exhausted you in other ways.”

You nodded, fighting a laugh.

Jeno reached for your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek, and whispered, “Aren’t you just full of surprises, baby girl?”

This time, you didn’t correct him on the pet name. It was starting to grow on you. You bit your lip, wishing you had the courage to admit just how badly you wanted him to touch you.

Jeno confidently pulled you into his arms again, reading your mind, and brushed his lips over your cheek before kissing the corner of your mouth. You made the softest sound, like this one gentle kiss had completely ruined what was left of your resolve.

Sound beyond the door made you part from each other, sitting rigidly in your chair to avert suspicion. Mr. Kim peeked his head in, asked if either of you needed to use the bathroom, and when you both declined, he left again.

The door closed and Jeno reached for your hand. You let him, watching curiously as he surveyed the bruises on your knuckles. There were a few jagged cuts of broken skin that the nurse disinfected after the fight. She said they would heal faster in the open air, but you could bandage them later if you felt it necessary.

Jeno pressed a kiss to your bruised knuckle, then the other, carefully avoiding the cuts. It turned him on; you being strong and vicious, so hell-bent on punishing disrespect shown toward you. You had that in common with him.

It was sick and twisted, Jeno was well aware, but that was part of what made it even more attractive and arousing to him. Kylie stole Mark, not because she wanted him for herself (she wasn’t the least bit interested in him, much to Mark’s shock when he realized he lost two girls in one night with one fuck), but because she wanted to take something away from you that you really wanted.

You sucked in a breath when Jeno’s lips and tongue drifted to your wrist. He really was determined to seduce you and you were getting closer and closer to surrender. You glanced at the clock. Detention was half over now. He was running out of time.

Between kisses, Jeno said, “I don’t think Mark would know what to do with you if you had him.”

Your brows stitched in confusion.

Jeno glanced up, fire flickering in his eyes. “You’re way too powerful for him.”

That made something inside you snap. In the next second, you crashed into Jeno, locking your lips to his in a kiss that put the others to shame.

Jeno was ready to catch you, getting his arms around your waist and lifting you into the air like you weighed nothing. You held his head in your hands, tangling your fingers in his long hair, and made a noise when he set you down on the table, popping your legs around his hips where they belonged.

This boy was yours. There was no doubt in your mind. The way he kissed you and the way he held you to him, there was nothing on this earth he wouldn’t do for you. To have you.

You slipped your tongue into his mouth and Jeno kneaded your hips, his hands rough as he roamed them over your body. There was a catch in your breath when his fingers slipped under your shirt, desperate to touch your bare skin.

“Fuck,” Jeno groaned between kisses, his jeans getting too tight. He settled his hands on your thighs to anchor himself to you and thrust his growing bulge against your clothed sex, feeling your warmth.

You lost track of time. And everything else. Fuck it all. There was only you and Jeno, just like he said, kissing and touching. Reckless and hungry, one for the other.

The sound of the door sent adrenaline prickling through every inch of you, but you were too drunk on his kisses to give any thought to self-preservation. Jeno reacted much faster than you did, dragging you off the table and clumsily to your feet. You managed to throw yourself into the nearest chair while Jeno - for whatever stupid reason had popped into his head - dove under the table.

Mr. Kim poked his head inside and upon seeing only one of two criminals, came marching in. “Where is Mr. Lee?” he exclaimed.

You smoothed your hair back, desperately trying to catch your breath and get just the tiniest bit of composure. Mr. Kim would raise hell if he knew you’d been making out when you were supposed to be dying of boredom.

“He, uh,” you stammered. Fuck! “He went to the bathroom.”

Mr. Kim narrowed his eyes. He was not convinced.

Your eyes, on the other hand, widened.

Jeno’s hands were running up your bare thighs, pushing up your skirt.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Kim pressed.

No. He’s between my legs. Your heart was racing out of control. Your lungs were going to combust. Jeno’s hands were on your hips and his head was between your knees. You could feel his warm breath on your inner thighs.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Positive, Mr. Kim. He’ll be right back,” you said hurriedly.

Jeno lifted your skirt a little higher, knowing you were hidden from the waist down by the table, and smirked at the sight of your pink panties. And buried his face in your clothed pussy.

“Fuck,” you squeaked out in a high-pitched whimper.

“Language,” Mr. Kim chided once again. “Tell Mr. Lee he now has to stay an additional ten minutes for taking a stroll!”

You threaded your fingers into Jeno’s hair, trying frantically to slow him down, but he was kissing your sex with the same passion and intensity as he’d kissed your lips - like he was trying to make you scream. And you weren’t far from that.

Nodding rapidly, you said, “Yes, Mr. Kim. I’ll tell him. I promise.”

Suspicion was clearly written all over Mr. Kim’s face, but you knew Jeno giving you head underneath the table was not on the list of possibilities going through his mind. Thank god.

Jeno kept a punishing grip on your hips, kissing and tonguing at your folds, tasting your arousal despite the panties in his way. He couldn’t wait to peel them off and make you beg.

When the door closed, sending a loud slam echoing through the library, Jeno quickly slipped out from between your legs, knowing exactly the reaction he was going to get.

You reached under the table, swatting at his head as best you could. “Fuck you, Jeno,” you yelled. “Fuck you!”

“You will in a minute,” Jeno retorted, grabbing your knees and spreading you apart for him again.

You fell back against the chair, gasping at how he manhandled you. “Oh shit,” you moaned as he yanked your panties to the side and dived back in.

Jeno steered your legs onto his shoulders and found your clit with his tongue. He soon grew frustrated with your underwear, which seemed to be intentionally trying to block his way. Winding his hands through them, Jeno tugged sharply, ripping your panties with ease and letting them fall to the floor.

“Not fair,” you whined, pulling on his hair in retaliation and earning yourself a moan that made your toes curl.

Jeno kissed the inside of your thigh and said, “All’s fair in love and war.”

At first, you kept your eyes worriedly on the doors, but soon, your eyes were winched closed, your head tipped back. You writhed on the chair, arching and squirming, because it had been a while since someone ate you out, but mostly because Jeno was kissing your cunt like a man starved.

Jeno slipped his tongue into your hole and lapped at your slick. He was a lucky bastard to be burying his face in your pretty pussy. You weren’t exactly an easy girl to bag. Boys were lining up around the building to fuck you, but only Jeno had scored last summer. You’d told him as much.

Had you been saving yourself for Mark since then? It would seem so, given how sensitive you were to Jeno’s mouth. He was going to unravel you in no time.

You bounced into his face, covering your mouth to muffle your sounds, your other hand cupping his head. Jeno reached under your shirt, under your bra, and palmed your breasts, which were shuddering with the rest of your body. He kneaded them and pinched your nipples, teasing his fingers around the nubs until he felt them stiffen.

Jeno shook his head between your legs, your thighs clamped tightly on him. Your pussy was fucking addictive. He knew he should stop - that he needed to stop - but he just couldn’t. He wanted to suck every drop out of you until one of you passed out from exhaustion. Or orgasm. Whichever came first, because Jeno was so hard in his jeans there was a strong chance he was going to come untouched in his pants.

“I’m coming,” you cried out, your lashes fluttering as he played with your nipples and your clit. Your mouth was dry from panting. “Jeno… Jeno, please!”

Fuck, he loved how you said his name and how you begged for him, on the cusp of euphoria. But Jeno made a disapproving sound and gave one last kiss to your perfect pussy.

Your eyes went wide, just like they had when he first started, as you watched Jeno come out from beneath the table. “What are you doing?”

“Hm?” He played clueless, much to your annoyance, and he nonchalantly swiped your ripped panties off the floor and tucked them into his back pocket.

“Why are you stopping?!” You sounded desperate, because you were. Climax had been right there, close enough to taste. You were experiencing the most powerful tunnel vision of your life, thinking only of how you could get him between your legs again to finish what he started.

Jeno came to stand over you. He sure did enjoy watching you lose your mind. He cocked his head for the millionth time that afternoon and just smirked down at you. “Who have you fucked since me?”

“No one.”

“Should I believe that?”

He did believe it actually. Jeno just liked toying with you. And with how badly fucked out you were already, the edge of your orgasm slipping away with every passing second, you weren’t exactly in good shape to lie to him.

His hesitation infuriated you, as it should. Was he implying you’d been whoring around? You got up, shoving him away from you, and whined, “You bastard, I hate you!”

Jeno grabbed you and stole a kiss in the time it took you to blink, before you could even react. But it didn’t matter. You folded into him like you had not a shred of self-respect left to your name, like he was the only thing you wanted.

“Fuck me like you hate me then,” Jeno growled, watching you expectedly. You were still reeling from the kiss. “If you wanna come, baby, you gotta do it on my dick.”

He made you crazy. You didn’t know whether to suck him dry or slap the shit out of him. He would enjoy both. You glanced down, seeing the hard bulge in his jeans, your mind filling with memories of that big cock and what it could do to you.

Jeno raised a brow. “How about it?”

You scowled. He truly was annoying as all hell in addition to being stupidly good-looking.

Jeno watched as you turned away from him, reaching for your bag and rifling through it hurriedly. And he chuckled darkly when you pulled out a condom packet and slapped it into his hand. Sex Ed gave them out by the bucket full, after all.

Delight filled Jeno’s face. “Always full of surprises.”

You squeaked when Jeno took you by the hand and started rushing toward the back of the library, dragging you behind him. You struggled to keep up with his long strides, but you couldn’t stop giggling. The excitement in your chest threatened to burst you at the seams.

It should have been a crime to be this aroused by someone. The chemistry between you and Jeno was off the charts; highly destructive and flammable, consuming everything in its path.

Including both of you, together, engulfed in flames of your own design that burned hotter in your midst.

Tucked away in a nook behind rows and rows of old books, where the blinds were shut on the windows and the soft lights overhead gave a warm yellow hue, Jeno spun you around in his arms and sealed his lips to yours.

It was a passionate, almost rough collision of teeth and tongues, like two cars racing toward each other at breakneck speed. The kind of kissing reserved between two people desperate to bring one another to ecstasy.

You whimpered into Jeno’s mouth when he shoved you against the wall, forcing his hips between your thighs to rub his clothed cock against your sex. Jeno could feel the wet heat of you and thrust his bulge on your folds, hungry for friction. His tongue slipped between your lips just as his fingers prodded at your entrance.

A pitiful sound escaped you. Two long thick digits curled into your pussy, finding that spot inside you without hesitation and stroking, crooking, making your hips rock into his hand.

You wrapped your arms around Jeno’s neck and broke from his kisses to stare into his eyes. His pretty irises were almost gone, dilated to black. He was so turned on he couldn’t see straight and you weren’t faring much better.

“I thought I could only come on your dick?” you stuttered, his fingers thrusting faster into your cunt.

Jeno nodded and nipped at your lips. “Just kiss me and let me prep you, yeah?”

You did, kissing him hungrily. Every now and then, you moaned or cried into his mouth, those fingers hitting you just right, but you wanted that cock and so you kept reaching down to palm at him.

Little by little, you got his leather jacket and his shirt in a pile on the ground, letting you brush your fingers over his nipples and the sharp lines of his abs. Then, you unfastened his jeans, but couldn’t get them past his muscly thighs at this angle. Not that you cared. You were fisting his cock, pumping it with the same speed he fucked you with his fingers.

Jeno panted and moaned in the crook of your neck. “Shit,” he snapped, finally breaking.

He spun you around, pinning you to the wall, but drew you toward him by the hips harshly. You tried to find purchase on the wall while Jeno tore open the packet and rolled the condom down his length, his cock so stiff it twitched with need at the sight of your glistening pussy. You wiggled impatiently, shifting your weight as you readied yourself for the stretch, glancing over your shoulder to salivate over that big dick.

You bit your lip as he steered the head of his cock to your folds, arching your back, bracing your hands on the wall. Jeno curled an arm around your waist, pressing his palm into the lowest part of your stomach and drove in deep, pulling out of you to thrust back in, a little deeper each time.

Sucking in a breath, you were about to moan at the top of your lungs, but a hand swiftly clamped over your mouth. You cried out Jeno’s name, muffled against his palm, and rocked back with his movements, trying to take more of him. All of him.

“Open up for me, baby,” Jeno whispered into the sore sensitive flesh of your neck, where he kept biting because he needed an outlet for just how good the hot vice of your cunt felt around his cock. “Tight fucking pussy.” Jeno groaned, sneaking a hand under your shirt to hold onto one of your breasts.

Tears pricked at your eyes. Jeno was dancing on the line of pleasure and pain. His cock was so hard and thick, bottoming out and making you see stars. You held onto his arms, shivering at how your walls burned and stretched to accommodate him, already screaming for more.

Jeno’s hand fell from your mouth to wrap around your neck possessively. You moaned softly. He was being surprisingly gentle, though you knew him as the opposite. It was very telling how tightly Jeno held you against him, how slowly he dragged his cock back and forth inside you.

But once Jeno was satisfied you could handle him, his pace started to build until he smacked his hips into your ass, your soft flesh heating up beneath his hands as he brought you down to meet his thrusts, slamming that cock into your sweet spot.

“Like that, baby,” you begged, desperately trying to keep yourself in place to get every inch of him. “I can take it.”

I know you can. Jeno brushed his parted lips up your neck and kissed your jaw. He’d give you anything you wanted if you kept begging for him. He stuffed you full of his dick a little harder and hissed, “You’re so fucking good. So wet for me.”

You bounced your hips, matching his rhythm. It annoyed you; the two of you could have been fucking each other’s brains out this whole time had you not been cowards last summer.

Jeno glanced down, watching you throw it back on him, and grabbed the nape of your neck, pinning you to the wall.

“Jeno… fuck!” You gasped as he fucked you hard and fast. You winched your eyes shut and squirmed, but you were nothing compared to his strength.

Jeno shoved himself balls deep in your cunt and stilled, groaning with pleasure. Before you could catch your breath, he pulled out of you, making your arousal slip down the inside of your thighs and flipped you around to face him impatiently. He smashed his lips on yours just as you opened your mouth to complain and lowered you to the floor underneath him, sucking on your tongue and thrusting his cock back inside you. You spread your legs and drew him into you by the hips, watching Jeno hook your knees in his arms.

“This is mine,” Jeno said, his voice raspy and dangerous. Both of your mouths were open, lips brushing, panting for breath.

“Yours,” you said without missing a beat, drifting your hands down his back to his ass. “Whenever you want it, it’s yours, baby.”

Jeno rewarded that with a kiss and a hard thrust of his hips.

The desperation took over both of you. There was only you and Jeno chasing the high, stealing pleasure from each other’s bodies as hard as you could. Jeno crushed you into the floor with his weight, his hand tangled in your hair, the other covering your mouth, because you couldn’t keep quiet. He was so rough, starved for you, and all of the unspoken, unresolved feelings between you coupled with him taking you for all you were worth made you break.

The orgasm began like waves between your thighs. Your body went tight, your back arching like you had no control over it anymore, and you screamed into Jeno’s palm as your walls pulsed and squeezed his cock.

Jeno felt you unraveling and swore, his hips stuttering at your pussy sucking him in. He hurriedly got ahold of your hands, pinning them to your sides, and thrust in as deep as he could go, emptying his load into the condom.

You blinked to clear your vision, watching Jeno close his eyes and moan, shaking with his own pleasure. Hooking your legs through his, you grinded into him, milking his orgasm, smirking at the total euphoric daze on his handsome face.

Jeno finally lowered his head, meeting your eyes, and you both chuckled at the same time. You smiled when he didn’t hesitate to kiss you, his cock still buried inside you, his hands still pinning you to the ground.

“Any boy you fuck that doesn’t deserve you…,” Jeno whispered, his breath hot on your lips. “I will kill him.”

You wilted. It shouldn’t have aroused you, but it did. You felt your body tighten on him one last time for it. “If you want me so bad, why don’t you ask to keep me?”

“Would you say yes?”

“Ask me and find out.”

Jeno lost himself in your eyes, staring, burning. He inevitably surrendered, hands falling away from your body, soft cock slipping out of your core.

You watched him rise to his feet and peel off the condom, and you sat up, adjusting your clothes as he threw it away. “Don’t tell me the guy who doesn’t give a fuck is scared of rejection like the rest of us,” you taunted, wanting to goad him, because you wanted a reaction.

You needed a sign that he was capable of loving you.

“Fuck off,” Jeno snapped, zipping up his jeans.

You took that in stride and stood, sucking in a sharp breath at the soreness between your thighs. “‘Fuck off’ isn’t want you said to me last time,” you retorted, using his own words against him. “It was more like, ‘Please, baby girl. Please let me fuck you. I’m the only one good at it.’”

Jeno wanted to laugh at your impression of his voice, but he was too busy deflecting. He fished his jacket off the floor and clocked you a glance. “Am I?”

You rolled your eyes. “You are so fucking obnoxious.”

“We have that in common. Among other things.”

You snorted. Why he couldn’t just talk to you after you’d had sex was a mystery. How could he be so intimate with you one way, but not the other?

Jeno saw the sadness forming on your face and he reached for your hips, bringing you flush against him. You smiled in pleasant surprise, content to be in his arms again, and closed your eyes when he graced a quick kiss on your lips.

For a moment, Jeno studied you, like he was committing you to memory. Jeno anticipated this would be the last time he would ever hold you or touch you again.

“Maybe I don’t deserve you either,” he whispered bitterly.

You frowned. Your whole body tensed with it. “Then… no one does.”

Jeno’s eyes widened. You would be the first and only person to have ever found any worth in him. Jeno wasn’t ready to accept that yet. It was such an utterly foreign feeling to him.

You said, “No one deserves anyone, Jeno. It’s about effort. Do you feel something for me or not?”

“Do you feel something for me?” he shot back, his heart on the line.

You forced out a tiny laugh and worked your hands up to his face, cradling his cheeks. “This is how the night ended between us last time. We’re both too scared to do anything with this.”

Jeno bobbed his head. “Yeah.”

You sighed. Mark was supposed to be safe. That was why you really wanted him. He was kind. He was reliable. He was cautious.

But he crumbled at the first gust of wind.

You looked at Jeno. He was passion and fire, made of steel. Much like you. He kissed your wounds. He would destroy anyone that tried to hurt you.

Nothing would break Jeno. Loving him would be risky, you knew that, but you accepted it, because in his arms would be the safest place in the world.

The two of you resigned yourselves to this little stalemate, though the tension dissipated. Both you and Jeno knew there was something worth fighting for between you.

Jeno held you by the hand, mindful of your wobbly steps as you returned with him to the tables. To your relief, Mr. Kim was nowhere to be seen.

He appeared five minutes later, announcing the hour of detention was over, but Jeno had to stay an extra fifteen minutes. You gave your lover a smirk of amusement as you gathered your things.

You told Jeno and Mr. Kim goodbye, the latter already out the door, but Jeno grabbed your wrist as you began to leave.

“How long did you get detention for fucking up that bitch?”

“A week,” you replied calmly.

Jeno laced his fingers through yours, bringing your battered knuckles to his lips to kiss. “Hm. I guess tomorrow I need to get myself sent here again.”

You chuckled with a shake of your head.

“And the day after that. And the day after that too.”

“I’m sure you will,” you purred, taking your hand back and grabbing him by the chin, stealing one final kiss.

Jeno grinned as you walked away and propped his feet on the table, overlapping his hands behind his head like he was sitting on a beach somewhere.

By the last day, he would find enough courage to ask to keep you.

END.

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullens with a reader who is afraid of needles but has tattoos and piercings?

The Cullens with a Reader who has tattoos and piercings but is afraid of Needles

Again, you guys manage to clock me perfectly. It’s kinda freaky. I just got a new tattoo the other day but I’m still putting off getting some of my vaccines because I’m scared of them.

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He thinks you’re funny

He so fascinated by how your mind works

He went with you once while you got a new tattoo

He was supposed to be there to hold your hand

But you didn’t need it

You just sat there peacefully making small-talk

But then

Carlisle called you into the clinic because you were overdue for a vaccine

Edward thought you were gonna take his hand clean off

He’s tried to talk to you a couple times about how they’re not so different

But you don’t wanna hear it

So he just settles with being there to comfort you every time you need a shot ❤️

Alice:

She finds it hilarious

Definitely tells you that you’re overreacting

But she will still comfort you

She loves your tattoos and piercings so much

But she just cannot wrap her mind around why you seem to be petrified of other needles

Oh well

She teases you for it all the time

But that doesn’t stop her from going with you and holding your hand and telling you how brave you’re being

She still tries to convey how weird you’re being

And how they’re not that different

But even she can see that that won’t work

So she just lets you be you

Jasper:

He may be a vampire

But honestly he gets it

No one particularly enjoys the feeling of something punching into your skin

But it’s easier to cope when you know that you’re getting something cool out of it

Aka a piercing or a tattoo

He understands

So he goes with you whenever you have to get a shot and he uses his ability to calm you down

It makes it easier for everyone

He also may or may not have taken to just asking Carlisle to give you your vaccines when you’re asleep

He can use his ability to keep you asleep

Bada bing bada boom problem solved

Rosalie:

She understands a little bit

But also not really

She remembers getting her ears pierced when she was alive and she absolutely hated it

So she hates needles too

She understands you there

But she doesn’t understand your love for tattoos and piercings

Like obviously she loves her ear piercings and sort of wishes she’d gotten second lobe ones

But the pain is way too much for her

Also she is very reluctant to go with you

She can stomach a lot

But something about needles is a no for her

Don’t get me wrong she will hold your hand and let you squeeze

But her head will be turned the other way

Emmett:

He thinks you’re hilarious

He teases you for it all the time

Likely won’t let up even if you tell him to stop

He just thinks it’s the funniest shit

That doesn’t mean he won’t go with you to be your emotional support and personal stress ball

It just means that he’ll bully you relentlessly afterwards

He doesn’t actually mean any malice behind it

He’s just a jokester at heart

And if you really, really tell him you don’t like when he teases you about it

He might let up every once in a while

Esme:

If she was human, she would honestly be the opposite

In her human life, she could take a vaccine needle like a champ

But even the thought of a tattoo or piercing makes her queasy

She does her best to reassure you of that

Trying to convince you that needles aren’t that bad

But you’re hard to get through to

So she just settles for being there for you

She goes with you every time you need to get a shot

But she stays home from the piercers or the tattoo parlor

Best scenario

Carlisle:

He has a bit of a different approach to this

He knows many people who are afraid of needles

He’s a doctor, it’s bound to happen

Thinks that exposure therapy is the best

He takes you to the clinic with him all the time

Has you sit in on a couple of his patients

And watch them get vaccines

Maybe it works maybe it doesn’t

Can’t say he didn’t try

But he never judges you for your fear

It’s real, it’s valid, and he will never make fun of you for it

Vampire! Bella:

Honestly

She understands

I have a feeling she was really in to getting piercings at some point

But I also have a feeling she never took good enough care of the piercings for them to stick around

So when she was human she had a bunch of scarred holes on her ears

But she gets it

She hated needles

But she loved piercings

Honestly wishes she could get some now

But either way, she doesn’t judge

She understands completely

Supportive queen

[symbiomancy]

PRIZE —ryōmen sukuna

—summary: You and Sukuna make a bet. He doesn't clarify what he wants if he wins. It's okay; you'll find out soon enough.

—cw: f!reader, stepcest, otherwise pretty tame today

—wc: 1,4k // also on ao3

“So, do you even do anything on the court or do you just stand there and look pretty?”

Sukuna turns to you, brows raised. The corner of his lips curls up in amusement. “Just because you don’t understand how the game works doesn’t mean I don’t do anything,” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement makes his biceps bulge and you allow your eyes to linger on them momentarily before you meet his gaze again.

“Prove your worth, then,” you shrug your shoulders once and tilt your body to the side to get a glimpse of the people doing their last warm-up exercises on the basketball court. “Earn a lot of points, be the MVP. Win, or do whatever it is you do.”

He eyes the way you’re leaned to the side and the way you pull yourself straight again and shift your attention away from his teammates, head tilted, now staring at him through your pretty lashes. He likes this angle. You’re not that much shorter than him, but this, this angle he likes, and finds himself wanting to place his hand on your jaw and tilt it up.

“Let’s make it a bet, then.”

You purse your lips, narrow your eyes.

“Alright,” you cede, tilting your head the other way. “If you suck out there, you make me a second bento for a week so I don’t have to grab something from the convenience store on the way to my language classes. And if you win—”

“When I win.”

You roll your eyes. “If you win… I don’t know, what do you want?”

“I can choose anything?”

“Yes, unless it brings me physical, psychological, emotional or reputational harm.”

Sukuna is quiet for a few moments, staring at you with a new intensity. It sends a shiver down your spine and you take a quick breath in to dispel the jitter in your veins. Then, he holds out his hand.

“Deal.” He grins, broad and charming when you accept and shake on the deal. He motions to the overhead level where a crowd has gathered — mostly girls, probably from all years if you had to venture a guess — his other hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you towards the stairs. “Enjoy the show.”

To his credit, he’s good. It takes a while for the game to get going, but when it does, he’s fast, almost graceful in the way he dodges around the other team’s players to make his way to the net. He stops, sneakers squeaking against the vinyl, and throws the ball. It’s a clean shot. His teammates pat him on the back and the girls around you cheer.

Your eyes meet and Sukuna stops, turns his body towards you, and does a small, almost mocking bow. The crowd around you explodes in a cacophony of screaming and you place your hands over your ears.

He sure is popular.

The games pass in a blur. Sukuna keeps up easily, netting point after point after point. Each time, the cheers of your peers threaten to deafen you. Then, the last game is called, the teams shake hands and everything winds down. People still linger when the teams are stretching and cleaning up. You even spot a few volunteering themselves for help.

Sukuna doesn’t say anything about the bet when you meet up after he’s showered and dressed and parted with his teammates. You congratulate him and he beams like you’ve never seen before, eyes bright and hair slicked back, curling at the ends. He doesn’t bring your bet up even at the dinner table or when you’re all winding down in the living room, everyone piled onto the couch and the armchairs. Your parents congratulate him on a successful match and his smile returns full force, launching into a play-by-play for everyone that wasn’t present. You almost think he’s forgotten about your bet by the time the lights are all out in the house.

Until there’s a knock on your bedroom door as you’re getting ready for bed. The clock on your laptop screen stares at you. Just minutes from midnight. You unlock your door and crack it open just enough to see Sukuna on the other side, leaning against the doorway with his hands in his sweats’ pockets. The outline of his cock is obvious against the fabric and you let your eyes linger on it for the fraction of a second before you raise them to meet his. You almost, almost get distracted by his lack of shirt. He notices.

“I figured out what I wanted,” he announces with an easy grin.

“Right now?” You glance at the clock again, then back to him. Sukuna nods. You pull your door open just enough for him to slip in. “Need I remind you the clause about physical, psychological—”

“Emotional and reputational harm. I got it; I took ‘em all into account.” He wanders a few steps deeper into your room as the lock on your bedroom door triggers and picks up the cat-shaped nightlight on your dresser. He smacks it once. It turns purple. He smacks it again and the light changes to warm white.

“So?” You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly rethinking your nearly non-existent sleeping attire. Summer is warm and stuffy; there’s no point in sweating through the night when you can keep your clothing to a minimum and the window cracked open. Cheeky shorts and a thin, cropped shirt help ward off the usual heat. Now there’s a different type of heat simmering under your skin.

“I want a kiss,” he says, placing the nightlight back onto the dresser. “A nice, proper kiss.”

“Why?” You shrug your shoulders when he gives you an incredulous look. “No, I mean like— you had so many girls practically throwing themselves at you during and after the game-meet-thingy; you could get a kiss from anyone.”

“Yeah, I could.” He closes what little distance separates you and hooks his knuckles under your chin. His other hand rests on your hip, draws lazy circles into the flesh. It sends a jolt down your spine, like livewire in your veins. “But I want it from you.” His breath fans your lips. Heat rushes to your face.

You shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t ruin your parents’ relationship with something so messy, something like this, something that’ll only blow up in your faces down the line. But he’s all-encompassing, taking up your whole vision, everywhere is him and only him, his eyes glued to your lips.

Sukuna closes the gap. His mouth is slow on yours, his lips warm, slightly chapped. You really shouldn’t—

His hands skirt under your sleeping shirt, and travel up your torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Thumbs graze your nipples and you arch into his chest, gasp into his mouth. He swallows the sound, eager and hungry. His tongue slips into your mouth. The heat bubbling under your skin spreads through your body, has your pulse living in your throat. Your hands rest on his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh. He grunts against your mouth, digs his teeth into your bottom lip and suddenly you’re lightheaded, his hands anchoring you to place, keeping you from floating off into space. His chest is pressed to yours, large warm hands on your ribs and then down, down, until one rests on the small of your back and he pulls you into him, hip to hip. His cock is stiff against your thigh.

You’re the first one to pull away, hands firmly on his shoulders when you nudge him backwards. Sukuna’s cheeks are flushed in the faint light of your cat-shaped nightlight, lips glossy, eyes half-lidded, breath loud in the confines of your bedroom, hands still on your body.

You inhale slowly but it does little to knock some breath back into your lungs. Your chest is heaving — so is his — and yet you step aside, unlock your bedroom door and pull it ajar. He slips out just as easily as he’d slipped in, his touch lingering as he takes his escape.

When you hear his bedroom door open, you lean into the hallway, calling out his name in a whisper. He looks over, hand on the doorknob, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “If… if you want to keep… this,” you motion between him and yourself, “going, get some chapstick, dude.”

You close the door and lock it.

banners by @/cafekitsune.

[exodusin]

♱ — 𝕬𝖓 𝖚𝖓𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖍𝖞 𝖔𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 𖤐 yandere!bill cipher x goth!reader ; MOSTLY triangle bill and some FEW human bill in some parts, human bill is based off this design, no twinkification of the nation, stalking, manipulation, gore, abuse, just overall out of pocket, there will be smut but it is consensual, NO NONCON we don’t do that here, reader’s personality is kind of based of Henrietta Biggle from South Park

TW; childhood trauma, bullying, abuse, torture, stalking, creepy ass behavior, manipulation

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

August 25, 2016 — Gravity Falls, Oregon

You and your best friend, Wendy Corduroy, were at the mini-store plazas in downtown Gravity Falls, looking for stuff for college. You were entering the art field, despite your mother's objections that you should study something more lucrative. But you didn't mind; just one year of arts wouldn't hurt. You wanted to pursue something you truly enjoyed.

You picked up a few goth band pins for your backpack: Siouxsie and The Banshees, The Cure, Bauhaus, Sisters of Mercy, etc.

"Dude! Tambry is back. It's been a while since we've seen her," Wendy said, showing you a recent text from Tambry about returning to Gravity Falls. You exhaled smoke from your lips and smiled.

"How's she doing? Did she mention anything about me?" you asked. Wendy shook her head. "Not yet, but hopefully she'll be excited to see us. I think she's still a bit... traumatized by the apocalypse."

"I think everyone is, but we cope with the 'Nevermind that!' thing... It kind of works for me," you said casually. It had been frightening to think about but knowing your abusive mom had been turned to stone made you feel slightly better.

Shaking off the thought, you continued walking and talking with Wendy. You both were headed to the Mystery Shack for work. Upon arrival, you clocked in and placed your backpack near your workspace.

"There you are!" You smiled at the familiar voice of Soos, the coolest manager ever, especially since Grunkle Stan retired in a way.

"Good news, dudettes! You two are getting a raise!" Soos announced.

You and Wendy looked at each other and grinned. "Wait, really?" Wendy asked excitedly.

"Of course! I understand college is a money grab, dudes," Soos chuckled. "Does $19 an hour work?"

"Better than okay, it's perfect!" you exclaimed. Tambry walked into the shack, her hair a bit longer this time, grinning when she saw both of you and Wendy.

"Guys!"

"Tambry!" You and Wendy exclaimed, giving each other a group hug, reminiscing about 2012.

"Purple-haired girl! Is it Tambry? Please correct me, dudes," Soos said as he joined the hug.

"You guys are crushing my bones..." Tambry groaned but chuckled.

"Now that we have a strong trinity of young ladies, I want you three to find something, anything that can attract tourists, as long as it isn't hazardous. Make something up, just like the old Stan ways!" Soos smiled. Tambry looked at him. "But I don't work for you?"

"Oh, come on! It's a good excuse for you three girls to have a night out and go on some sort of scavenger hunt."

"That feels like something Dipper and Mabel would do," you said, memories flooding back.

"Better get going now. Melody is making bomb enchiladas, and I don't want you dudes missing out."

"Bet, c’mon, let’s go see what this creepy-ass town has to offer," you said, grabbing your black trench coat with goth band patches, unaware of the reptilian slit on the moon watching you—only you—invisible to others, but you remained oblivious.

Oh, dearest

Oh, my dearest

[notmeowse]

Curious to know why you wanted the veil to come down? I personally would’ve liked the option because it sets the world to how it was meant to be, BUT came to the understanding (idk if understanding is the right word but that’s what I’m using here lol) that because it would bunk up everything for everyone in the world currently, it was kinder/safer for everyone currently alive to leave it in place. After all it’s all anyone has known and not knowing the result of tearing it down was too big a risk. To let people keep living their lives instead of essentially turning back the clock was the safer option which is why I’m actually not super upset about not having “tear it down” as an option. It would’ve been nice to have it. In fact that’s probably the route I would’ve taken had it been available, but I can understand why the team and Rook don’t see it that way.

I think if we look at it from a developer standpoint it does look like them wanting to keep the status quo, but if you look at it from an in-world standpoint of “the world as it is now had been in place for thousands of years and it’s all anyone knows. It’s too risky/scary to tear it down just because you (Solas) can’t move on from your regrets that led to its creation in the first place” makes sense to me. Like a “you made your bed, it’s time to finally lie in it” kind of way. If they do make a DA5 (doubtful since it seemed like this game was meant to tie up or throw out loose ends) maybe it will be about finding ways to tear it down that wouldn’t idk…risk also messing up the world people currently reside in

Also question, because I mighta missed it, but if the veil is torn down completely would that not release the blight in its entirety? I thought that was also why they couldn’t take it down. I know Solas said he “had a plan” but was that a plan to not let the blight out if he took the veil down? I think that because that was my understanding of the blight that’s also why I wasn’t as pressed about not getting a tear down option, but now I just can’t seem to remember if that was the case with the blight or not

Hello and thank you for this ask! I so appreciate you leaving this for me so I can iron out my thoughts, because in many ways, the ending really did not go the way I thought it would. Spoilers/novel-length response under the cut!

After all, it was foreshadowed multiple times in the previous games. The biggest foreshadowing was Sandal's prophecy back in DA2, which was clearly the first draft of the events of this game:

One day the magic will come back - all of it. Everyone will be just like they were.

The "everyone" in this scenario could very well have meant the dwarves, but it also could have meant everyone. Elves, spirits, dwarves, everyone that lost something from the Veil going up. That was supposed to be what was coming. Every tear in the veil, every claim that it was weakening or failing in any way, served as (I thought) foreshadowing to it coming down.

And the series gives us very valid reasons for it to do so.

The main reason the Veil should have come down, for me, was to save the spirits. They're essentially trapped in the Fade, pressing against the Veil and constantly twisting themselves into the wrong shapes to be able to get to the waking world because they do not understand why they aren't part of it. Yes, it is kinder and safer for everyone in the waking world to not disrupt it by letting the world bring itself back together -- but what about the spirits? The ending, in its current state, disregards them completely. As if we haven't spent the last 3 games building them up as people. Not just that, but as the other people (besides elves) that Solas wronged by throwing up the Veil.

The games have had multiple instances of (for lack of a better word) humanizing spirits for us, by giving us characters like Justice and Cole, the All New, Faded For Her spirit, and now the demon Spite. They're naturally drawn to the waking world, to people, to strong emotion. The Veil acts as a barrier for them to truly experience the world, and when forced through it, they tend to become demons. But we are very much meant to see those characters as people, and Solas's entire argument in Inquisition was that they suffered from the Veil, too -- and no one else alive in Thedas seemed to care. Now that he's gone, that's actually the case.

In Trespasser, he was originally tearing down the veil for the spirits, not just the elves, and ended up killing Mythal to be able to have the power to do so. Veilguard wants to pretend it was for her, all along, despite the fact that he quite literally snuffed out one of the last shreds of her existence in the previous game in the name of helping the spirits and the elvhen.

But of course, we learn that the Veil doesn't just contain the Evanuris in this game, right? It also contains the rest of the blight! And shortly after we reach this revelation (depending on when you watched all of the memories) we discover that the very first Tranquil beings in Thedas were the titans (sundered from their spirit + achievement for the memory is quite literally called Tranquility), and that the blight comes from their madness. It is essentially the titans' nightmares!

Now, when we learned that in-game, I absolutely thought the next course of action would be to help them. Not just because it would stop the blight in its tracks and remove one reason for the Veil being up, but it would also snatch away the main weapon of the Evanuris, AND ALSO heal them for the sake of the dwarves. To help them reclaim that part of themselves long-since sundered. Veilguard actually gives us no explanation as to why we DON'T do this. Reversing the damage is briefly considered by Emmrich as a possibility, and never brought up again -- why didn't the team immediately pivot to that, given Harding's presence and connection to the stone? She alone (being the only dwarf currently in Thedas who had that connection) could have led us right to the remaining titans, and we could have used the dagger (the same one used to sunder their spirits in the first place) to heal them, much like the Inquisitor used the anchor to heal.

I had thought this was foreshadowed heavily in Inquisition, given that Solas learns (and is deeply intrigued by) the Inquisitor using the anchor not to rip open the Veil, but to heal it instead -- there's even a codex entry on it in this game. We also learned in Inquisition (Nope, actually DA: Asunder) that Tranquility can be reversed, but very little is done with that revelation in that game's plot -- surely it was meant to set up reversal of the titans' Tranquility in this game? For us to go fix it? Apparently not.

Regardless, that solution (helping the titans) would also have rendered the Evanuris blight-less, defanging them and taking away their favorite toy thus truly evening out the playing field and making the final fight of the game far more believable. Like, in its current state, my little Antivan Crow Rogue Rook kills Elgar'nan. The first of the firstborn. The oldest and strongest of the evanuris. At full power. Something Solas could not do. And Rook did it without even a single power boost -- and yes, I do think that Rook should have taken on the essence of Mythal, leading to Solas having an oh my god there's two of them moment. But that's not really my point in this absolute essay I'm writing you (I'm so sorry if it's more than what you bargained for lol)

My POINT! Is that we finished out Trespasser with Solas treasuring the possibility of being wrong about his plans. We are led to believe that the Inquisitor (or, you know, the protagonist of the next game) is going to find an alternative route, or a reason for him to leave the Veil up -- something that would prove him wrong. Ultimately, my point is that the revelations about the titans should have been that reason. Fixing them, rejoining them with their spirits and curing their tranquility, should have been the alternative that Rook/the Inquisitor presented him. And frankly, that should have been his fucking atonement. None of this bullshit at the end of the game with him binding himself to the Veil, he's quite literally reinforcing the band-aid he slapped over the world instead of getting to the root of the problem. Which is the titans. He should have helped them. He alone probably knows fucking how, since he broke them in the first place. It doesn't make any sense that he didn't... consider that avenue in the first place?

So by the end of the game, it's like oh, great! The Veil is now reinforced so the spirits will continue to suffer. And there's also a very real possibility that the one dwarf in Thedas with stone sense just died, jeopardizing any chances the dwarves had of reconnecting with or helping the titans. So now the titans will continue to suffer too! Yay! All of this buildup was completely pointless!

Given that they're doing a hard reboot of the series (the south was destroyed anyway, any future games likely won't take place there and Thedas as we know it pretty much went through an apocalypse/had way more death than the original ritual would have created), it would have made perfect fucking sense to boardwipe the world and change everything in it by BRINGING DOWN THE VEIL. It would quite literally have accomplished the exact same thing the superblight did, but with added benefits of spirits being free to roam about the cabin, and we could potentially have gotten the freaking titans back. Holy hell. The worst part is that they're still alive. Like, they're more scattered and disparate, clearly, but we're just leaving them in the past? Oh my god, they're still alive! What are we doing! Why aren't we helping them, why aren't we giving the dwarves back their dreams and their magic! Are we seriously supposed to accept that these are just the way things are now, despite the fact that we have a dwarven success story in the party with us? The new postergirl for dwarves getting their magic and their dreams back with very little negative side effects?

Like, the game doesn't do anything to try to convince us it would be a bad thing to save the titans, doesn't do anything to suggest that we should leave this any of this stuff (which, apparently now includes the Dalish, because Arlathan was given to the Veil Jumpers) in the past. It also doesn't put up a great argument for keeping the Veil up, either -- Rook repeatedly says Solas will drown the world in demons, and he doesn't correct them simply because he doesn't respect them -- but we, the players, know that would not be the case. He would have quite literally reunited the world with itself, on multiple levels.

I'm sorry. I'm so irritated about it all, if that wasn't clear by the novel. Thank you again for asking, it was good to get this out. Veil should have come down.

[un-lawliet]

“Present.”

— in which Dazai wants to kiss you

part two here <3

“Osamu…”

Dazai lifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing at your figure.

It was cold.

The Summer, having prolonged its stay, pliantly welcomed the first cool breeze of Autumn, inviting the ember shafts of the moon a little earlier, cutting the day shorter and introducing the night before the clock struck nine.

And Yokohama appeared to come alive at night.

The streets bustled with crowds, lively and impeached with an alacrity one would expect to see when the sun was much, much higher in the sky.

Dazai found himself outside the Lupin Bar, leaving a half empty glass of sake idle on the cracked confines of the bar top, the crisp air steadying his somewhat dizzy state, un-fogging his senses and clearing his head.

Leaning against the bar wall, his hands in his pockets, an indiscernible look in his eyes as he watched the ever moving city around him.

It was moments like this when you knew his mind was elsewhere, reminiscing over memories in which you did not know, memories that left you except and puzzling over the glimmer of recognition in the depths of his eye.

Breaking his trance he regarded you with quiet solidarity, as if debating weither or not he should throw up his defences or continue to stare, an eyebrow raised in subdued acknowledgment of your appearance.

He didn’t seem shocked at your return, having been on a mission at the other side of Yokohama for a few days, you feel a sickly indulgence of disappointment in his lack of reaction, your shoulders dropping as you approach him slowly.

He probably knew of your return, he has a habit of knowing seemingly every action and it’s equal reaction before they are even taken, it’s a habit that leaves you uneasy at best, and terrified at worst.

Sighing, you join him against the Bar, leaning your head back against the bumpy surface of the wall.

He looks at you for a moment longer, and it’s as if you can feel him back away, creating an insurmountable distance between the pair of you.

In reality, you know he does not move, but at the sight of an ill placed smile stretching his face, you have never felt so immeasurably far from him.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He grins, and it’s ugly for a man so devastatingly beautiful in your eyes, you hold back a grimace.

“I’m back.” You say simply, unable to look at him anymore, the footpath suddenly becoming the most interesting thing you’d ever seen before.

A street lamp flickers, the light momentarily dies leaving the pair of you in the dark for a split second before the light returns, Dazai glances upwards to look at it, you don’t even notice.

You don’t know why you even sought him out, your feet seeming to move on their own after Kunikida grumbled that Dazai had headed to Lupin’s Bar just after his shift at the agency.

You have a gift for him from your mission, you tell yourself, attempting to justify your foolish actions, ignoring the voice in your head that reminds you that you would have seen Dazai at the agency at some point the following day.

“You’re back.” He mimics, and he’s back to looking at you again, trying to understand your actions, trying to comprehend why you were currently standing outside in the cold, cold night with him.

“The mission was successful then I suppose?” His smile seemed less indulgent now, and if you were to look up you would surely notice how his body swayed slightly, a testimony to the tipsy feeling resonating in his chest.

You don’t however, your eyes staying downcast as you nod; mumbling about how it was more boring that anything, you hear him laugh at your admission, you hate how empty it sounded.

“Is everyone at the agency ok?” You ponder, clinging to the tail ends of a conversation you were slowly losing.

“You didn’t visit them before you came to see me?” Dazai questions an undeniable tease in his voice, you feel yourself flush.

“I did, it’s how I-” Found out you were here.

The words die on your tongue, refusing to go into detail of how you actively asked for his whereabouts about five minutes into your return.

“Hm?” Dazai coaxes you, although you’re certain he knew what you were about to confess.

“Nothing.” You mumble, your hands clammy, “I uh did, but I only saw Kunikida and Yosano so..” You trail off.

“Ah” He muses.

And in the back of his mind, he wonders if you were simply here because you felt like it, that you had no alterier motives, internally frowning at himself for his suspicions despite knowing you were part of the ADA, critiquing himself silently for falling into old habits that should have died when he left the mafia.

He supposes that maybe you just wanted to see him.

The breeze falls over you both and he’s moving to leave, you look at him again, your head cocked, holding yourself back from questioning, restraining yourself from clinging onto his hand and begging to follow him, indulging yourself in the warmth of other human.

The bar door opens, and for a brief moment you hear the drunken giggles and exclamations of careless patrons, before the door swings shut again, muffling the voices. It grounds you.

Dazai takes a few steps and then turns to face you, his face unreadable, before he tilts his head gesturing for you to follow him, you think your heart soars.

“You coming?”

And you’re pushing yourself away from the wall, nodding.

He doesn’t wait for you to catch up, and you find yourself walking at a pace slightly behind him, your hand subconsciously tracing the box in your pocket.

You wonder if you should give him his gift now, or if you should wait.

When you can’t decided you stay silent, choosing to speed up to level the distance between you both.

You have no idea where you’re going, simply following a man who’s actions you couldn’t begin to understand. He makes no effort to inform you of the destination and so you make no effort to ask.

Dazai likes to think when he walks, constantly scheming, devising ways in which he could encourage Atshushi to grow, or better yet, another way to end his life, and fail, over and over again.

A bitter cycle that infringes upon his thoughts like a bullet.

Tonight however, his thoughts circle back to you, and your silence, and how your face seems to glow in the dim light of the night. And he blames the alcohol that’s coursing through his blood, the last of his drink finally hitting him as he walks, dizzying him and rendering him in a state of concealed vulnerability.

“So.” His voice comes out steady, despite his tendency to slur his sentences when under the influence.

You look at him, gently urging him to continue.

“You’re hiding something.” He states, and you curse him for his intellect and damn observation.

You grip your coat tighter, eyeing the bulge in your pocket, defeat already coaxing you to reveal your intentions.

“I suppose.” You whisper, concluding to yourself that there was really no reason to hide the present from him, after all it was just a gift shared between two work colleagues, there was no need to plaster it with a hidden agenda.

Reaching into your pocket you timidly lift it out, his gift was wrapped, just like everyone’s gift from the agency, a pretty ribbon tying it all together in a clumsy bow. You feel foolish.

“I brought you something from my mission.” You explain, your eyes trained on his face.

And Dazai pauses, his steps slowing to a stop as he stares at the box in your hand, and you scramble to explain yourself, eyes wide.

“I-I got everyone from the agency something!” You stammered, “I just…wanted to give it to you.”

He doesn’t move for a second, his eyes moving between your flustered face and the present.

A car drives past, it’s headlights cause you to blink.

“Do you plan on giving them their presents in such an intimate manner as well?” His voice was softer, as if he himself is unsure of your answer.

His question makes you freeze, feeling as if you were caught in your own actions.

You whisper a tiny “No” and Dazai just nods.

And you hate how you don’t understand.

His hand brushes yours as he picks up the box, his hands are cold, you try not to shiver under his calculating gaze.

“You don’t have to open it now.” You mumble, willing yourself to look him in his eye.

Truthfully you hope he doesn’t open it in front of you, unable to cope with the silent weight of the consequences to your actions.

Dazai finally breaks eye contact to look at the bow, his finger going up to play with the flimsy material.

You brought him something, you had thought of him. Dazai, was unable to fathom how you could be so pure and act so well intentioned to someone with his past.

Did you not believe him to cruel? A man desperately trying to patch over his history with the excuse that he had changed. Changed from the eighteen year old who’s presence struck fear in those unfortunate enough to know his name. Who’s presence alone caused the death of the only person who-

Bitterly, he reminds himself that you had thought of everyone at the ADA.

Without a word he pockets the gift, that same ugly smile rippling his features yet again.

“How kind of you to think of me!” He exclaims, his voice far too loud for the quietness of the gesture, clapping his hands together in an enthusiastic display of himself.

The distance between the pair of you stretched for miles and you shake your head.

“I think about you plenty.” Your voice is hushed, edging on exasperated, because (although you would rather die than describe your complicated feelings for Osamu Dazai out-loud) you don’t appreciate being pushed away.

The moon appears to hide behind the clouds, leaving the street lights to fend for themselves. Their glow emphasising your features as he looks at you.

And Dazai wants to kiss you.

It’s a desire that materialises amidst the acutely awkward silence that follows your admission, it breathes down his neck and forces him to lose any and all words that might escape his lips.

He smiles, a bandaged hand reaching up to cup your cheek, your eyes squint; confusion, admiration and need seeping out from their sockets and onto your face, and Dazai, for once, is grateful for his ability to read people, to read you.

He wants to kiss you, but he doesn’t.

You lean into his hand as his thumb gently draws circles across the area just below your eye, your lips part, a question you will never ask bubbling in your throat.

The pair of you look at each-other for another brief moment before Dazai removes his hand from you and turns, hiding his expression.

“You’re cold.” He states, starting to walk, “You should go home.”

And you watch him go, your feet refusing to move, body overcome with a melancholy you only ever seem to experience around Dazai.

The moon peaks out from behind the clouds again, as if to ask if you’re ok. Illuminating both you and your surroundings like a blanket.

And you feel exhausted.

masterlist <3 or part 2 here :)

feel free to leave a request !

A/N: this was supposed to be fluff idk what happened- i think i started thinking of chapter in 109 half way through, i’m sorry ANYWAY hi bsd fandom ily ily ily and thank you for reading !!!