#he might be right but he's still batshit crazy

[lover-of-mine]

Hi, welcome to Buck just had his oh moment and the color theory of it all.

Usual shoutout to @stagefoureddiediaz because being mind meld with her is what's getting me here lol

First, I'm gonna break my own rule and give too much power to the showrunners, I know I keep saying not to, but hear me out. Buck, Bothered and Bewildered is on Buck's pov, right? That was made clear by the episode and then confirmed in interviews that that was the vision, and well, Tim also said that that scene was from Buck's pov, it's all about Buck's reaction and how he will go crazy about this because he's abandonment issues personified, that is also confirmed with the way we don't see what Eddie is doing until he tells Buck, we are learning things at the same time as Buck is.

Okay, well, why am I going back to 704? Well, Buck's fear of losing Eddie (I don't care what Buck says, he wanted Eddie's attention) made him go completely batshit crazy last time. But it also triggered something really important: Buck's bisexuality. And they just repeated that trigger, but this time with Buck choosing to walk in.

They repeated the bt first kiss structure but with Buck making the choices that create that change. The bt kiss, Buck is working on some bills, Tommy shows up, Buck is spiraling because of Eddie, Tommy kisses him, Buck has the bisexual realization. The 808 scene, Eddie is working on the houses, Buck shows up, he's spiraling about Tommy, Eddie reveals something, and Buck is snapped into the realization. Important thing to notice is that Buck still doesn't fully understand the depth of what his relationship with Tommy showed him about himself, so Buck still might not understand the impact of what his abandonment issues just told him while he was sitting on Eddie's couch. And it's all on Buck's pov.

But Anna, you said color theory.

I'm getting there. Because, well, the bt kiss is blue and red.

Same as 808. So we are evoking the same feeling, especially because of Buck's short sleeves and the buttons (and not a white shirt under this like he had all season lol)

And thinking about the blue and yellow coding Buck's bi arc, he worked his way to lighter blues. He starts with the navy blue colors until that lighter teal tone from the coming out scene.

It's also interesting that in the scenes that are about Eddie in a sense, when he's talking to Maddie and he got it right about it being about Eddie, and the coming out scene being about their friendship, are lighter colors along with Buck matching his background. We don't have the yellow elements but we have that cohesion on the frame composition. (I guess the 606 hoodie also counts since blue and green theory but I don't want to make another image now).

If you're new here, the theory is that Buck worked his way to his blue from darker colors, his blue being the color he is wearing during the coming out scene (and Eddie will find his yellow, but we are not talking about Eddie).

We are back in the darker blue but the composition of the scene is lighter. Buck is literally in front of the light as he is talking to Eddie in the kitchen, and it's the middle of the day.

He matches the background, the couch, the Texas frame, the lighting is also a lot colder than it usually is in Eddie's house. And it's also very important that he is on the couch, because yay couch theory.

But Anna how does any of this prove anything?

Well, Buck is working his way back to his blue while in the darker colors, because while he got the bisexuality part right, Tommy wasn't the right person, and he's finally back in the light, we don't have the dimmed light and the obstruction of his face created by the shadow, dare I saw Buck is finally starting to see things clearer.

But why am I so sure? The shirt he was wearing today?

Same color but in a darker shade than his blue.

Buck is back on the discovery feeling that comes with the darker blue but this time he's in the correct hue, he just needs to get to the right shade, and he just figured something out.

Abandonment issues personified just had his oh moment about Eddie at the thought of losing him permanently, sitting on Eddie's couch while wearing his blue.

Other things to notice, Buck knocked but walked in before Eddie could get to the door, he used his key and the knocking was just to let Eddie know he was there, Buck is the one who suggests moving to the couch and the couch ties it back to the couch theory and the 601 dinner, dare I say that even Buck offering to bake for Eddie and the cooking aspect of it all, and the idea that the couch is home and home is a person and for Buck that's Eddie.

Something else is the way that we finally see someone eating whatever it is Buck is stress baking. Madney don't eat at the loft and the chief interrupts them at the firehouse. Eddie on the other hand is DIGGING into those. And food in 911, in media in general, is about connection, and is very pointedly about love here, and the whole stress baking is great because the kitchen is Buck's safe space, he cooks for people he loves, we see that from when Maddie comes back, to the pointed way he gets take out for his parents in 610, to the lasagna, making chilly with Bobby, cooking for the house on 709 and getting Bobby's approval. And the fact that we are getting Eddie eating what Buck's nervous state is creating while allowing Buck to just go through his kitchen to make more because he is not about to not accept every part of Buck Buck offers him is important.

The fact that Eddie isn't objecting to Buck rummaging around his kitchen is also important in the way the show uses Eddie's house in a meta way, kinda like the way the show uses the loft to match Buck's spirits in a sense, how the kitchen is his heart and for family, how the living room ends up being for guests and it's made pointed about the couch his mother bought "for his guests", Eddie's kitchen and the whole way it's the space Eddie allows himself to be vulnerable but there's the thing of honesty, the core of who Eddie is is tied to the kitchen, and the fact that he's just letting Buck move around like it's his kitchen ads a lot. Buck is the only person who walked into the house through the back door, Buck has a key, Buck has been in every room (except the bathroom but I think they are saving that for buddie canon), that's home for him too and Eddie never thinks to question and Buck never thinks to doubt it ("this is Eddie's house, I'm not really a guest").

Anyway, Buck oh moment real. Buddie 8b real. Color theory got me so high I'm wondering this is what doing hard drugs feels like. I think this is all I have to say. I might come back, who knows? I don't.

If you read this I love you.

taglist (interact with this post if you wanna get tagged)

@sparkedblaze @caw-salem @dreamofsomepiphany @100ceruleaneyes @linus-lucy @chaosqueery @gina-spike @chimchiminie98 @elvensorceress @singitforthegirls @dangerpronebuddie @182daysof @steadfastsaturnsrings @sparklespiff @inell @miles--to--go @jesuisici33 @wolfdeans @lunarsolar1 @joshwritesfics @glasscities @kejfeblintz @stagefoureddiediaz @mosaicstardust @eddiedisasterdiaz @hermioneindisguise @queerprincesseddiediaz @lookforanewangle @becausebuckley @lemotmo @thenainitaldisaster @epiaphany @trudayss @shelfthe-reader @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @buckgettingstruck @scoupsahoy @the-whispers-of-death @iced-coffee-jesus @izzysbeans @starkytower @thegeekcompanion @sunflower-eddiediaz @bucks-daddy-issues

@dingdongfries @angelcamael

[evilkitten3]

less crazy, and here's why:

obito had to be actively pushed over the edge by watching rin die, something that madara (allegedly) engineered to happen for that purpose. if it hadn't happened exactly as it did, it's entirely possible that obito's life would've been completely different

to get madara to do what he did, all black zetsu had to do was write on a rock (wayyyy before he was even born so it's not even like it was targeting him in particular, just any incarnation on indora who happened to check the right boxes) and wait. madara was never going to be satisfied with how things are - even if black zetsu had never existed, he likely still would've tried to do something extreme to fix the flaws in the world.

completely unprompted, madara heard "what if we put everyone in eternal naptime" and immediately went "yes perfect love it no notes" and got down to business. it wasn't a single event that set him off, it was always going to happen in some way, shape, or form.

also he spent like fifty years alone in a cave which is not going to be doing any wonders for his mental health

Guys I have a really important question for u

[hannieehaee]

svt reactions to their shy to intiate sex gf pouncing on them during ovulation week

18+ / mdi

s/o being horny while ovulating

content: smut, established relationship implied, etc.

wc: 576

a/n: this is so real of you anon

masterlist

seungcheol -

shocked for half a second before counting his blessings and going along with it. would never even think of questioning you if you initiated sex, especially not when you were so enthusiastic about it.

jeonghan -

cocky about it. will pull away from your kisses to joke about how irresistible he is and how bad you are at keeping it in your pants. might take advantage of your heightened arousal to tease you throughout your ovulation.

joshua -

he knows you like the back of his hand, so he'll be a little confused but will go along with it to not embarrass you and have you retract your actions. however! he will absolutely make fun of you afterwards, claiming you want him soooo bad.

jun -

won't question it. he's just happy to be there! will literally let you do whatever you want and go along with anything you ask without complaint.

soonyoung -

will keep interrupting your kisses by asking babe babe whats happening what are you doing. so silly you'd have to stop and explain to him that your hormones were going batshit and you needed him to help you get rid of the ache. this would shut him up immediately.

wonwoo -

he'll go along with it for a few seconds before stopping you to ask why the sudden change. will get a tiny bit cocky yet flustered at your reasoning but won't question it further. will have all fun imaginable with your ovulation behavior.

jihoon -

he's usually the type to let you do whatever you want, and this will be no exception. he's a little absent minded sometimes that he probably wouldn't notice a difference between you pouncing him and the other times in which you're a little shier at initiating sex.

seokmin -

he knows your cycle by heart so it won't be hard to figure out these are just your hormones going crazy. will still feel both flattered and flustered by the contrast of your behavior as opposed to usual. won't even know what to do with himself as you jump him lmao.

mingyu -

he's like a light switch all you need to do is say the word and he's suddenly in the mood. won't even have the ability to process what's happening until you're already out of breath lying next to one another.

minghao -

he's probably the type to keep an app that tracks your cycle, so he'll catch on to your ovulation symptoms after a few cycles. can kind of pinpoint during what time of the month your hormones go crazy and will prepare himself to please you accordingly.

seungkwan -

literally freezes bc what the fuck is happening rn. his body is telling him to just let go and let you do whatever you want to him but his brain is screaming what is happening!!!! in the end his body will win and he'll be a huge mess (in a good way) during it all.

vernon -

just hums along as you suddenly jump him. his hands would immediately go to the right places and his body would just let you take charge and do whatever you want. he's never been one to complain when something good presents itself.

chan -

lowkey he's been waiting for this day his whole life. you can take him and do whatever you want to him he'll never object!! will become sickly turned on by how turned on you are, creating a vicious cycle between the two of you.

[hoshinasblade]

you are so close to gaslighting yourself into thinking that maybe, just maybe you have already told hoshina's mom in the past what your favorite tea is.

the problem with that thought is today was the first time you met the mother of your boyfriend.

you denied it in your head - for all you know, perhaps mrs. hoshina is just really a good at guessing. that, or you are going batshit crazy.

because at that very day, people you have met for the first time - people who may be friends with hoshina soshiro but are practically strangers to you - seem to be aware of small details about you.

captain ashiro complimented you on your blue dress after shaking your hands, saying it's obvious why it is your favorite color, emphasizing how it brings out the intensity of your eyes. even okonogi, who you know works directly with the third division's vice-captain, had a specific joyful aura on her friendly face as she offered to hang out with you in the future, mentioning how she is a fan of true crime documentaries too and suggesting in the same breath that you should try the pudding sold in the headquarter's cafeteria.

you could have let all of that go if only you did not blush like a teenager after hoshina's own older brother called you by your childhood nickname during family dinner.

"i'm sorry." hoshina's hand found yours, his thumb drawing patterns on your wrist. he knows you'd been on edge since morning, and although this is entirely your idea - meeting his friends and his family in one day - he wouldn't blame you if you're overwhelmed.

"they did their research on me or something," you tried to laugh the nerves away. it didn't work.

"ah." hoshina suddenly looked guity. " that. well -" he stopped for a moment, gathering his wits, choosing the right words to say. "i mean, it makes sense that everyone who actually knows me would know about you, really."

you wanted to joke as a response; you wanted to say that he's talkative and tends to yap for hours about stuff he loves so yes, people around him would naturally know things about you. but then you caught yourself because this is yet another confirmation of what hoshina soshiro had been telling you for months now - that you are someone he loves.

you did not know being known could feel this sweet.

"huh. do you reckon i can extort them for information about you next time?" this time it was your turn to grab hoshina's hand, and with your forefinger, you traced three little words on the warm skin of his palm.

[author's note: hello guys, i know i haven't been posting a lot anymore, but i am thankful to everyone who still remembers this blog - yes i can read your asks, yes i see that you've tagged me in a fic, yes i checked my notifications in this blog every now and then. it might take me long to respond most of the time so apologies in advance but please know that i appreciate all interactions from everyone.

also i dont need to remind you but i don't tolerate copy-pasting or reposting any of my works anywhere. i read a lot from here too, and other writers can attest to this as well - we know if a line or a paragraph from any of our works is copied and/or reworded. ]

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.4

So some of y'all are gonna not like this part but it's necessary 🤌🏻 hope it's okay I wrote it whilst bleaching/dying my hair 🤣🤣

I have also put some very rough sketches of the X-Men I did on holiday so you can get the vibes on the super suit/costume

<< Part 3 Part 5 >> Masterlist

He was gone, you waited for a moment just in case, but no, he was gone. It was okay, you'd had more time with him than you'd thought possible. The hours were a blessing.

“He isn't going to come back.” Cassandra spoke to your right. “You missed your chance.” She matched over to Pyro and slapped him awake.

You shook your head, she was right. Why were you just staring into space? You had to get a move on.

Quickly picking up Laura's discarded backpack - now full to the brim with Deadpool comics - you moved past them. Better to leave when she's distracted, if you hung on any longer she might remember you all came here to bargain with/kill her.

You looked down from the socket, drained. Using your powers was mentally taxing and, without the help of adrenaline, you didn't know if you could even make yourself a disc to descend. Instead you skidded downwards, holding the skull to climb and landed on your feet. The texture was like bricks. Was that really how a skull felt?

You swivelled to see your family. Laura sprinted as soon as her eyes landed on you, crushing you in a hug. “You stayed.”

“Of course I did.” Your arms held her tighter. “I’d have missed you all too much.”

She pulled back from the hug only to gaze into your eyes with her own glassy ones. “We couldn't see who jumped, did they make it? I thought you'd been eaten.”

“No, I'm here.” You assured her with a teary smile. "They did make it. They're gone."

She quickly burrowed back into your neck as you noticed El make her way towards you both and joined the hug. “That was intense.”

Gambit was next picking you all up as he squeezed tight. “Le’s never do tha’ again.”

Blade had hung back but Laura extended her hand to him and gestured until he held it. He wasn't one for ‘lovey dovey’ displays but he did love you all. He never thought it possible, not after he landed in the Void, but here he was. Clutching Laura's hand and thanking any deity that would listen.

“We better go.” Blade instructed. “Let's see if they got any wheels we can borrow.”

They did in fact have some wheels you could borrow. The five of you all sat in a beaten down Ghost Rider vehicle. It was an old fashioned Chevy and the boot space was perfect for the looted goods you all scrambled to swipe under Cassandra’s nose.

The drive back was strange. Obviously you were no longer in the boot with Logan but even if he was here you'd thought it was odd. You all survived.

There were no casualties.

Not that you were complaining, gosh no, but you were feeling a sense of unease. As though it had all been too easy.

Laura sat between you and Gambit, holding one hand from each of you as she dozed. Blade was driving and El sharpened her sais.

This was so ordinary. Well, your version of ordinary. But seeing actual civilization had thrown you. Because no this wasn't ordinary. This was fucking batshit.

You took a breath and tried to calm the fuck down because yes this was crazy and it wasn't what life should be but it was what it was.

You had to make peace with it.

You'd let Logan and Wade leap into a real life.

If they came back good. If they didn't… well, you were fine with it.

~~

A week later, once word had gotten out that Cassandra Nova had left, the Void seemed calmer. There were less riots - still a large amount - and people seemed to go it alone more. There wasn't the threat of ‘join or die’ so people made peace with scavenging and surviving.

Your group had still tried to help if people needed it but you mostly stayed out of sight. Without a ‘big bad’ to fight there was no longer an ultimate goal which was good but at the same time it made life boring.

You were playing a game of Uno, having found it in a rotting classroom, when an orange rectangle opened behind you. The others were quick to draw their weapons and you craned your neck to see a woman step out.

She had an air of authority with a kind face.

“Y/N L/N, Laura Kinney, Remy Lebeau, Eric Brooks, Elektra Natchios, I am B-15.” She informed you with a pleasant smile. The fact that her name was a letter and a number wasn't lost on you but you were still reeling over the fact that you're fairly sure Blade was called Eric. “I oversee the TVA and we are here on business.”

“TVA?” Gambit raised an eyebrow, lowering his powered up deck.

“The Time Variant Authority. We are the overseers of timelines. Our job is to watch them, nurture them, keep them safe.”

Elektra straightened but didn't hide her weapons. “If you 'oversee our timelines', why are we here?” Her tone was accusatory.

B-15 looked a little embarrassed. “One of our managers, Paradox, had accelerated the time frame on your dying timelines. He is the reason you are here. I am sorry for that but I am here to make amends, we have been in discussions with Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett about your recovery.”

Well, fuck me, he was coming back. You'd practically lost hope after the third day.

“Dying timelines?” Elektra's eyes flickered to Gambit. She knew he didn't remember a time before being here like the rest of you did.

“Timelines, like many organic things do, decay and die. Sometimes it is natural, sometimes it is fabricated and sometimes their 'Anchor Being' dies and they slowly rot.”

“But our timelines, our universes, are dead?” Blade questioned.

“Yes. But we can house you in another. We need to go through the proper paperwork and screenings but I do believe you can all be happy there.”

“People we knew-” You started. “Our friends- I've seen multiple versions of the same person. Our friends won't know us?”

“I can safely say in this universe there is no version of each of you. You would be entering as yourself and, yes, you will have to create friendships and relationships again but I'm sure each of you is up to the task.”

The feeling that this was too good to be true crept up your spine again. “What's the catch?”

“There isn't a catch.” She clasped her hands. “You don't have to come, it's an offer but I won't ask twice.”

The room that had previously been full of laughter and frustrated yelling was now dead silent, each of you considering her words.

“Do you want to go?” You asked Laura.

Her face betrayed no emotions. “I will if you want to.”

“It might be very different then this, then what you grew up with. You might not like it.” You didn't want to steer her any way but you wanted her to be sure.

“As long as we're together.” Her eyes flashed around the table.

El nodded. “I'm game.”

“Are there blood suckers in that world?” Blade asked B-15.

“There are Vampires, yes. There are also a few Lycans.”

That baffled you. No fucking way was there Vampires. “Then I'm ready to kick some Vamp ass.”

“I dunno.” Gambit shook his head. “I feel like I wa’ born ‘ere. Wha’ if there no room for me there?”

“Of course there's room.” El placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don't stay here, this place is horrid.”

He gave an uneasy look but did eventually nod.

“Right.” B-15 smiled. “Let's go.”

She gave you five minutes to collect your things and meet her at the rectangle. It was a little sad to realise five years worth of memories could be boiled down to a water bottle, Uno cards, a few knives, some art you and the girls created and your photo of you and your husband.

There was no point taking your clothes, they were tattered and stained, you weren't even sure the super suit you currently had on was clean enough for the 'new universe'.

B-15 walked through the portal when you all agreed it was time and Blade followed. Laura and you were next and finally El led Gambit.

You were struck by nostalgia. Walking through from a hot country to an airconned airport slapped you in the face. Memories of your honeymoon dancing across your mind. Was this wrong?

Was being with him insulting his memory?

You scanned the room. It was a tacky beige corridor with a set of brown doors, each door had a friendly face waiting with a clipboard.

“Right, so this is the boring part.” B-15 tried to joke. “I will need you all to partner up and answer some questions.”

“Wait’re minute.” Gambit ceased Elektra’s movements. “Wha’ if they kill us?”

“We won't kill you.” B-15 made a face.

“You are separating us.” El folded her arms.

B-15 sighed and plastered the professional smile back on. “If we wanted you dead we would've left you in the Void. This is part of the process, unfortunately it involves asking a lot of questions and to save time we thought to free up some extra agents, who are all very busy, mind you.”

Laura was the first to move, she gave a curt nod, pulled her backpack tighter against her spine and strode right to the end of the corridor. The lady she met was small and unassuming but she greeted Laura with a friendly hello.

You were next, always following after her, and found yourself beside a man. He was tall and waved awkwardly.

The man led you into what was clearly an interrogation room. There was a definitely double sided mirror on the wall reflecting the dark oak table and chairs that sat directly in the centre.

“Right,” the man said, taking a seat. “I am here to fill you in on this universe and fill out this questionnaire to determine whether or not you are fit to join it.”

You eyed his clipboard. “How long will this take?”

“Time works differently in the TVA.” He shrugged and began the explanation, which felt as though it lasted three whole days.

This universe was much the same as yours except the X-Men hadn't picked you up. There was a Jean and a Charles and a Rogue, etc however their version of Logan died which was beginning to kill off the timeline. Paradox had offered Wade the opportunity to hop over and he learnt the truth causing everything that had happened to happen. In order to secure all five of your places the TVA had to create some ‘micro-adjustments’ to certain parts of this universe. This was completely new territory so it did take some time to set up events and try to create anchor spots.

The X-Men were formed however they were now operational in the year 2024 and they worked side by side with the Avengers. There were many names and many dates and many places that Y-23 told you and you could barely catch up.

“So there's Avengers and Guardians and X-Men and there's still villains? Isn't it overkill?” You finished your lemonade, placing the plastic cup on the table by your messy notepad. You'd created a mini conspiracy board, trying to piece together all the information he was throwing at you.

“There are more heroes than you could ever imagine but that just brings the threat of violence higher.” He shrugged.

“And B-15 said that there were Vampires and Lycans.”

“In a world full of Mutants are you really surprised?”

“But a mutation is different from a species of Vampire, no?”

Y-23 thought about it but shook his head. “No it isn't. It's simple evolution.”

This was starting to feel like a Charles Xavier lecture.

“This universe isn't a part of what was once called the Sacred Timeline, this is a wild, thriving, new and exciting thing. This has never been done before.” He tried to reassure you.

"Meaning it's an experiment.” You muttered. “I'm game for it, I'm just scared.”

“Well, you have answered all of my questions swimmingly.” He gave you two thumbs up.

“You haven't asked any questions.”

“The questions are more for me than for you.”

This was starting to feel like a really bad idea. “I'm confused.”

“Don't be, the next step is wardrobe. Can't have you going to a new universe in…" He looked you up and down. "..that.”

~~

You stepped out of the tailors with a spring in your step. They had provided actual clothes but being in a brand new suit was bliss. They'd even provided weapons! The suit was beautiful. It was mainly purple, with a purple ‘x’ on your chest on top of black fabric. The black fabric was angular, causing a triangle shape underneath the ‘x’ and then carrying on down from your armpits to your ankles. The purple was on the front and the back connecting from your chest via the ‘x’ to your shoulders. Your spine had a delicately placed holster for two knives.

This was quite possibly the most powerful you had felt, despite being unable to actually conjure your forcefields. Y-23 had told you there was no magic in the TVA and that got you both into a large debate on whether or not you had magic. You were a mutant, you weren't magic! Gambit toed the line between mutant and magic better than anyone so you wondered how he was doing.

El and Blade were in the main room you were being led to. The room consisted of more brown furniture - desks and chairs - but had many old-school TVs on the far wall. Each screen held either a series of lines or a person. You were quick to zero in on Iron-Man, his iconic suit was blasting at several enemies. He was one of the biggest heroes in your world and the most recognised. You literally couldn't imagine Tony in another suit, another mask. He wouldn't look right even in a different colour, say green for example.

“That's Punisher.” El pointed to a gruff man, with a dusty white skull on his chest. He was mean looking but you had the feeling he was probably good as gold when needed.

“Whistler.” Blade nodded to another gruff man. He was older and definitely played by his own rules.

You watched the row of moving heroes. “So we have to just drop in and say hi, we know you in another universe?”

“H-1 told me I would say what I wanted.” El gave you a confused shrug. “that doesn't exactly clarify anything, what if I tell Matt and Frank and they don't- what if that means they don't want anything to do with me?”

“Precisely.” Blade agreed as Gambit walked into the room. “I will need Whistler's help. I can't fuck that up.”

“A’least I can' destroy wha’ weren't there.” Gambit smugly grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We all look ‘mazing by’t’way.”

Yes. You all did. Blade was wearing all black. A protective vest on top of a long sleeve and leather trousers. His outfit was swallowed by his leather coat. Weapons were under and over the coat, you could see all sorts of knives and daggers and even a crucifix dangled from his belt. He had a new pair of sunglasses, which he seemed very pleased about.

Elektra was wearing a bright red outfit, you assumed her Void outfit started off as this colour but she stained it to be safer. Her chest was now unexposed and she had gloves on. Her trousers were still there but on top she had an overlaying split skirt. The material was softer than the bodysuit, it matched the scarf which covered the lower part of her face.

Gambit looked much the same. His outfit was perfect. The only thing different about this one was there were no knicks and dents. He also wielded a staff.

Laura was yet to show her face. Something that didn't worry you but didn't not worry you.

“So where are we living?” You questioned. “I used to live in the X-Mansion but Y-23 said Charles was around but he now operates in 2024. So in my head he must be very different.”

“It seems like that's true for all our friends.” Blade’s eyes hadn't left the screens.

Gambit strode to the screens and gazed intently at each person. “Surely, they couldn' be too different. If it's the same person an’all.”

“Different circumstances, different upbringings.” El countered.

“That's Magneto.” You pointed to Erik. He was talking to Charles, drinking a cup of tea. It was infuriating because they were this civilised as enemies so you couldn't even tell if they were friends. “He was a concentration camp survivor. If he's about now, did that happen? Is he evil?”

“He looks pretty friendly with Charles.” Elektra cocked her head.

“They always were.” You huffed. “This will be really difficult won't it?”

Blade’s head swivelled in your direction. “Adjusting always is.”

Fuck how was he just effortless cool?

The door reopened, B-15 and Laura came through. She was gorgeous. They had dressed her in a yellow suit, with black trim much like yours. The suit had gloves and shoes which had special slots for her claws. But the icing on the cake was her cowl. She wore the famous Wolverine cowl and she looked glorious.

“Woah!” Gambit cheered. “You look li’ him!”

She did. She really looked like Logan.

“You look amazing, sweetie.” El grinned wide as Laura held one elbow in embarrassment.

“Thank you.” She wore a shy smile.

Blade clapped her back and couldn't help but nod.

“I can't believe it. You really- you look like- you look good.” You stuttered through the sentence.

She, thankfully, waved you off and turned to the screens. “Who are they?”

“Heroes in the 'new universe'.” Blade smirked. “They'll need our help.”

B-15 cleared her throat and you all looked over. She was standing in front of a freshly opened ‘timedoor’. “This is it.” She stepped to the right. “Through here is a collection of Earth's Mightiest Heroes. They will greet and assess you.”

Oh great, more assessment.

Laura, again, was the first of you to make a move. She confidently marched through the door, ready for this to be over with.

El was next, followed by Gambit, Blade and finally you.

You entered a white room. It was grand and outlandishly ‘modern’ - sparse. There were walls that were made entirely by window planes and the sunlight shone warmly. There was a silver, angular table and six beings were seated at it.

These were the ‘illuminati’. Y-23 had explained that a member of each super team created the illuminati, an omnipotent organisation. They controlled the world.

Iron-Man was there, creasing a ridiculously expensive suit, as well as Doctor Strange - the Sorcerer Supreme - Mr Fantastic - the smartest man alive - Namor - the King of Atlantis - Blackbolt - the Ruler of Attilan - and… oh my god. That was Charles!

The negotiation wasn't long. Charles took a look into each of your minds and declared that you and B-15 were all telling the truth. Then they revealed a set of apartments that they had brought for you to settle into normality in. You were allowed to leave them once you had settled and you had to come back every month for therapy "monitoring".

Stark handed you all a bank card and told you there was a limit to them. They also informed you that if you were needed to defend Earth they would call upon you.

Blade was under extra surveillance as he was a Daywalker. Reed had been able to recreate Whistler's serum to suppress the bloodlust but they were still taking precautions.

Doctor Strange placed a spell on each of you to track your whereabouts but other than that they let you go.

“The idiots are outside.” Stark used a thumb to point over his shoulder. Blackbolt smiled, his shoulders shaking in a silent chuckle.

“They haven't stopped pestering.” Namor rolled his eyes. “You must be integral.”

“We are just ourselves. We were cursed to live in that Void for years, for no apparent reason other than a cocky bastard's ego.” Elektra held her head high, watching the men she addressed like a hawk.

Charles adjusted his chair and gave you a sincere grin. “You may venture out, we do hope you find solace here.”

.

Part 5

.

@geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @melissa-ashe @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @ravenmedows @vulgarfuckinvirgo77

.

The sketches, be kind pls

[barbies1shots]

part3 of toxic!sukuna , prt1 , prt2

this one is kinda freaky..

not proof read

@hazzelle-kento for the idea !! thank you😉 this might turn into a series ..

☆- predator/pray dynamics , size kink , overstim (cant help myself) , stalking , fem!waitress!reader, batshit crazy!sukuna, slight misogyny , degradation, non-con>dub-con , possessive themes , body shaming , hair pulling , name calling , unprotected secs (wrap your willy pls)

thinking about toxic!sukuna and his inability to keep you off his mind. the way you cuss him out because he didn't put up dishes like you asked. or the way you stare him down when he doesn't take his shoes off before entering the house.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who denies that you actually want to break up with him. who said you couldnt break up with him.

why would you break up with him when he didn't do anything?

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who is just so unaware of the toxic things he did. restricting what you wear and who you go out with. lashing out at you when he asked a simple question. brushing you off when he came back late and smelled like alcohol.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who told you a top looks horrible on you. that it wasn't your color, and it was too tight, making you look fat. all because he wanted you to change.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who heard your sniffles from the other room but wanted to hear more of them. just because he's mean

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who is in denial and in complete confusion when you put a restraining order on him

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who claims he never put any hands on you.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who quite literally has internal conflicts on what to do. leave you alone, let you have your space youve been complaining about or come pounding on your door and fuck you to sleep.

thinking about toxic!sukuna who wouldn't respect any boundaries you've made and would invade your personal space.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who would contact you even when you blocked him on everything. instagram, SMS, twitter, tiktok, snapchat, facebook, google chat, EMAIL, yet the man still finds a way to messsge you.

' you still mad ? '

thinking about toxic!sukuna who doesn't care about your feelings at all. about how he only wants you for your mind- or for your body.

thinking about toxic!sukuna would try and corner you on your way back from a third shift at your work.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who literally dreams about chasing you and making you love him again.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who tries to explain that he's right wrong and that he only wants you.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who wants to be in every part of your mind. he wants to corrupt you, break you in, and make you maleable. just for him and his dirty pleasures.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who succeeds in his dreams of chasing you.

why would you ever want to run from him?

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who chased you down the alleyway with you screaming at him to leave you alone.

☆

"get the hell away from me, you damn psychopath! youre fucking crazy! you stalk me, message me, call me- i dont want anything to do with you, Ryomen!" the sounds of your shrill voice bounce off the dry walls on either side of you.

he followed you from your work to the little 'short-cut' home, and now he got you cornered in a deadend. you had black wedges and a skirt on- courtesy of your uniform regulations.

of course, he knew where you worked, why wouldnt he?

"come back baby, you know better." he snickered. his taller form was hiding by the darkness of the alleyway as it was well past 11PM.

you shuffled through your purse in search of something to defend yourself. pepper spray, a pocket knife, maybe keys. but came up empty.

why would you need to defend yourself anyway?

it sounded like his footsteps got closer as your movements were more frantic in trying to find something to fight Ryomen off with. you hand came in contact with your phone, and you raised it above your head before looking up and straight into the eyes of the devil himself.

"what are you looking for-" he asked in your face, his breath washed over you. as your nerves spiked, you threw your hand down so your phone came in contact with his forhead. "argh- you stupid cunt!" he grunted out as his face contorted in straight fury and disbelief.

did you... just strike him?

you stomped on his foot with your heel, and you earned another pained groan. you immediately went around him to run off, run into someone to help you, run into the light- something. you ran, your wedges rendering your full ability to move, but you had to make due.

your phone layed cracked at the back of the alleyway but atleast you had your purse? the entrance of the alleyway came closer than before, and you made it about 2 full steps into the light of the streetlight before a rough hand pulled you back by the hair.

"no- no, oh my damn, let go, Ryomen!" you screamed in frustration. his other hand came in, covered your mouth before taking your struggling body and pushing you against the wall.

why would he let you go when he just got you back?

he held you there, his face red and burning by the way you swung at him without hesitation. his eyes didnt lie, and they were filled with hatred but longing.

"youre mine, im not letting you go." he growled into your face after his let his stinging grip away from your hair. his hand ran down his face and he sighed loudly, "you are just as predictable as any other woman." he looked bored.

"you hit me, step on my foot, and then try to run?" he asked. your eyes stung when he pressed your head harder into the concrete wall.

"sounds like you need to lean your place again, yeah?" he concluded.

his hand moved from covering your mouth to grabbing your chin roughly and forcing you to look at him. "been out of check for a while. ignoring me, blocking me, avoiding me, wanting to take a break from me? i think you have lost your mind, baby" he said as his fingers forced their way more into your skin.

"leave me alone-!" you tried to say before he pushed you roughly on the ground, you hit your tail bone, and he came in between your distraught legs and leaning over you. his rough hands came in contact with your body, tugging and pulling on your clothes. he ripped your blouse, and the bottons popped everywhere. he flipped uo your skirt so the waist band was up your tummy.

why would he leave you alone when you just look edible.

"ryomen- i asked you for a break for a reason!" you screamed at him as you tried to cover your body. you tried to grasp the last bits of your dignity, but as soon as he cupped your cunt through your underwear, it was left for good.

why would you ever want a break from him..?

the chase from the back of the alleyway and the adrenaline from him holding you against the wall made you wet. it turned you on that he was willing to chase and catch you.

he smirked as he slid your underwear to the left and slid a thick finger in between your soaked fold before finding your clit and pressing harshly into the little nub.

"uhh-" you groaned at the feeling, he went hard and rough, not caring if it didnt hurt or not. you squirmed as your hips jerked and tried to scoot away from the stimulation.

he put his other hand on your hip, pulling you close as his fingers dipped lower and probbed at your entrance. "youre about to be in for a ride, you little bitch." he growled and forced his two dry fingers into your cunt, immediately finding your g-spot and abusing it.

your back arched as your thighs came up to your chest and closed around his arm, "Ryomen- please! I cant do this.." you whined out as your hips grinded against his fingers.

he smirked over you as you whined and arched your back, "cmon' cunt- cum for me" he demanded. he pressed a thumb into your clit, rubbing it as he fucking your cunt wet.

as you were recovering from one of your intense orgasams, he looked over you. his eyes drifted from your blissed out face to your shivering torso to your trembling thighs and hips. he licked your liquids from his fingers and slotted himself between your thighs.

why would you ever leave him when he is just perfect for you?

"time for the main event, yeah baby?" he snickered and started unbuckling his pants, unzipping them and pulling his underwear under his ballsack. he grabbed your calf and held it up by his head as he leaned in and stuffed his face into your sweaty neck.

his large mushroom tip nudged your entrance, and you tensed up as he started to push in. he was reforming your insides just to match around him, "cmon, whore... take it all.." ryomen groaned into your neck. he resisted the urge to bite into you as he listened to your sobs.

he raised back on his haunches when he bottomed out and quickly set a rough pace. your pleas and little whines only egging him further the more your worked up.

he let go of your leg to rest on his shoulder and started to grope your tits, kneeding them in one hand while tweaking one in another.

"youre being rough, ryomen! ugh- be gentle.." you whimpered. he shook his hand as he smirked and started to actually plunge into you. thrusting his hips and pulling you back by your tits as leverage.

plap! plap! plap! was the wet sounds of his balls hitting your ass.

he only sped up as he got lost in the pleasure, chasing his and fucking you complete stupid. your neck stretched as you felt another orgasm take over you and your mind felt blank. only thinking about ryomen, ryomen, dick, dick, ryomen.

he saw your face and shook his head and took one hand from your tits to the front of your head and forced your head to look at where hes fucking you open at. your back in an awkward yet painful position as you started to groan.

"you can't escape me, your morsel. you belong to me! i will kill you before you ever get any other thoughts of trying to leave me again. I control you. You are mine."

left unfinished cs ive gotten lazy and unmotivated. let me know what you think !!

toxic!sukuna part 1

toxic!sukuna part 2

revenge on toxic!sukuna

@aizawasbarb

[izurou]

⋆ .˚ 𖤐 — ft. SHIDOU RYUSEI ⋮ contains: f!reader. penetrative sex. a creampie. choking. many pet names. cum eating if you squint maybe. his dialogue is .. anyways happy shidou day <3

ryusei’s love for you is strange.

he expresses it in such a way that fools everyone else into thinking there’s no love there at all—just some psychotic, lust driven obsession.

sure—he’s overzealous with his public affections, and has a dangerous habit of flashing his canines at anyone who looks your way, but that’s love. he loves you.

he loves everything about you, everything you do.

you’re underneath him, with the cutest little pout sitting on your lips, and he loves it. your brows are knit together—pleasure dotting your features, and he loves it. you��re letting him bury his cock inside you, as deep as he wants, and he fucking loves it.

but then—he leans down to press a kiss to your mouth and, you turn your head to the side.

“oh? what’s with the attitude?” he sneers, craning his neck in an attempt to follow your gaze. “hmm, babydoll? where’re your manners?”

“dunno,” you mumble—lolling your head back into place as you continue avoiding his persistent pink stare. “ask your other girlfriend.”

he starts to laugh.

it’s deep at first—straight from his gut, but the sound changes as it travels further up his throat, morphing into something a little higher pitched and maniacal when he tilts his head towards the ceiling.

“yeah,” his chuckling continues as he playfully taps a finger against the tip of your nose. “keep talkin’ like that baby, and you’re gonna have me cummin’ in no time.”

oh how he loves this.

you being upset over a harmless little interaction he had with another girl—fucking perfect, maybe he’s rubbing off on you, or maybe you’re starting to love in the same way he does. the thought is just so exciting, he can’t help but jump the gun.

“you’re insane,” you mutter under your breath.

“am i?” he tilts his head to the side and grips your chin, squishing your cheeks together a little. “for you, i might be.”

you swat his hand away and prop yourself up on your elbows, narrowing your gaze onto his. there’s displeasure flooding your stare, but he still grins at you, ear to ear.

and then you say it—what he thinks has to be his favourite question ever.

“only for me?”

⋆

he fucks you like it, like he’s batshit crazy for you.

you wouldn’t be surprised if there was a band of stars circling the crown of your head right now, that’s how completely dumb you feel.

the skillful, pornstar roll of his hips is a monster in and of itself—but pair it with the hand decorating your throat, the unmistakable weight of fingertips pressing into your skin, and he’s another creature entirely—a true demon.

a slew of crescent moons wrap around his wrist, a cute little bracelet etched into his skin, courtesy of your nails. he doesn’t seem to notice his new jewelry though—too entranced by those fucked out sounds leaving your mouth.

“still mad, babydoll?” his pace falters briefly as he locks eyes with you—god, you’re just so gorgeous like this, he’s already filled you up half a dozen times inside his head.

every variation of the word yes sits in the back of your throat—and maybe, you could’ve gotten one of them out if it weren’t for his hand—filtering out anything and everything he doesn’t want to hear.

all you can do is nod your head, and even then, you can barely do that.

“hm? doesn’t feel like it,” he taunts, and you know what he means—the stickiness of your cunt, the way it’s coating his shaft in a glistening hot sheen of your arousal. “shh shh,” he cups his free hand over your mouth with a sadistic grin, and that’s when you hear it—a lewd squelch, over and over and over again. “doesn’t sound like it either, huh? pussy’s talkin’ to me, shit, think she loves me.”

a wave of heat floods your cheeks, and oh—how you wish he would just shut up. unfortunately, silence isn’t a concept he’s very familiar with.

“right, angel face?“ he grits his teeth and prods further, pressing kisses to your sweet spots with the thick head of his cock. “this pussy loves me.”

you screw your eyes shut and try to tune him out, knowing the mere sight of him above you, all wide eyed and pussy crazed, with a thin layer of sweat highlighting his chiseled features—is enough to tip you over the edge.

“fuck, c’mon, don’t do this to me sweetheart,” he feigns innocence, masking the subtle increase of pressure he puts on your throat with his honeyed words. “you’re breakin’ my heart here.”

shit, he really knows how to get you going.

he knows what buttons to press and which to steer clear from, and even then—he’ll rewire you to his liking and press them all regardless.

“r-ryu,” you choke out, struggling to remain in the present moment as your vision starts to blur—as the tight knot in your tummy threatens to unravel.

“oh yeah, right here baby, right here.” he purrs, coaxing what little focus you have left onto him. “cum with me, lemme feel that sweet cunt. it’s all mine, ain’t it?”

he loses you halfway through his sentence, but it’s fine—your body is about to give him the response he was looking for.

you don’t hold back—knowing how much he loves you like this, with your head thrown back and your hips stuttering towards him. you’re so upset, you think he’s crazy, and yet your cunt pulses on him in perfect time with the racing beat of your heart just beneath his fingertips.

he’s right there with you, moaning shamelessly as he blows a hot, sticky load between your folds—and fuck, it’s so much hotter when it’s real.

“shit, you’re somethin’ else,” he laughs breathily, enjoying the view of his sheathed cock twitching—shooting out whatever he has left.

and it physically pains him to have to pull out, but you look so pretty right now, so ruined—with your half lidded eyes and your wet lips, it’d be such a waste if he didn’t.

with a knee on either side of you and his cock in hand, he inches his way up your body—stopping only when he’s straddling your chest. he taps his tip against your lips, and being the perfect angel you are, you take him into your mouth.

“you taste yourself?” he bucks into your face a little, and you hum in response—forcing him to grab onto the headboard as the vibrations travel up his shaft.

“oh baby,” he sighs, “only you can cum on this cock.”

[mysterioushistorian]

midbloods are here! headcanons under the cut

Lowbloods

Highbloods

Charun Krojib

agender (they/them)

master of conceptual artworks

surprisingly oblivious to cirava's flirting

sneaky

Konyyl Okimaw

recycling is good

good pals with remele

trans woman (she/her)

likes to SLASH

big and tough on the outside, sweet and lovely on the inside

is actually a big fan of Nihkee Moolah, just won't admit it

secretly knows a lot about the Disciple

Polypa Goezee

still doing the job, regardless of caste

is now Tegiri's moirail. therefore, it's harder for her to keep her secret from him, especially with all these new bandages.

revived her blog for relationship advices.

troll sailor moon is her favorite

can and WILL beat someone twice her size

Boldir Lamati

shh! not so loud

he/she, unspecified gender

knows everything

she solves ALL the mysteries

not much is known about her. he just wants to do his job

short but tough

Bronya Ursama

cares for all her wrigglers. all of them.

elwurd was the one who convinced her to dye her hair, back when they were in a relationship. no longer together, she sees no point in continuing to dye it, so she lets it discolored

have you seen Karako? she's been looking for him for a while now

schoolfeds all the new jades

Wanshi Adyata

aspires to write a fanfiction with her soldier purrbeats OCs

actually believes in rainbow drinkers

real bookworm right here

A+ student

she's just a girl

Lynera Skalbi

still batshit crazy

Ardata's matesprit. what did you expect

is now genuinely interested in meeting new people

do NOT touch her diary

tall, but a little bit shorter than daraya

Daraya Jonjet

demigirl (they/she)

they listen to some hard shit over there

tyzias' moirail. rebels time

being a rebel teenager is hard. its hard and nobody understands

taller than lynera

fuck bronya. fuck lynera. fuck elwurd. fuck everyone. let her be free!

Lanque Bombyx

troll twilight fan, thank you very much for asking

asshole

vampire wannabe (he'll never be dracula)

this motherfucker gets no bitches

stop playing fancy good lord

Tagora Gorjek

sign here to agree with all terms *_______

galekh's kismesis-matesprit.

beware, he might scam you

hair flip

hates pirates

Tyzias Entykk

she/they

sleeps once a week

no... mustn't stop studying..

seriously girl, what even is in that mug

please take care of yourself properly

Stelsa Sezyat

still won't speak slower

deep breaths, girl

loves tyzias but worries about her revolutionary thoughts

big mother energy

always ready for dates

big fan of nihkee's channel

Tirona Kasund

spends too much time on grubtube.. unfortunately

her influences are terrible

yeah, we get it, you use memes to spread the good word about the empire

but please improve on the memes

considers stelsa as a mother, and tagora as a brother to her

would love to meet trizza someday

Tegiri Kalbur

KONO TEGIRI DA!

only buys products of original quality. those who sells him fake products will be DAMNED!

worries a lot about polypa and how she must be hiding something from him.

more obligatory anime references

gets too philosophical at times.

surprisingly gets along with the other two voidbounds, even if they can't stand him

no longer wears eye contacts, for... his own safety.

[bugs1nmybrain]

Bipolar!Tomura x Reader

Warning: Bipolar Disorder (implied to be type 1), gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, Shigaraki is mean to the reader, psychotic symptoms, substance use (weed and alcohol), short

note: Shigaraki refers to himself as "being bipolar." I'm aware this is pejorative language, but it made sense for the context of Shigaraki's condition in this story. I also have Bipolar Disorder for reference.

The TV was barely audible over the obnoxiously loud video game music and sound effects coming from Tomura's bedroom. It wasn't like he was ever quiet, but this loud? The neighbors might mistake you two for having a break-in. It definitely didn't help when Tomura would cuss out his screen.

"are you fucking KIDDING ME?! You SCUMBAG CHEAT FUCK!!"

You weren't unused to him talking shit to people on voicechat. It's just he was particularly erratic at the moment. You wanted to check in on him but you weren't sure if that was appropriate. The stabbing decibels would surely blast you away.

Suddenly, all the sounds stop, only leaving the sound of your ears faintly ringing from the absence. It was soon that you smelt..*sniff* .. pot. You hoped he had a fan going and you also wished he'd share. Tomura was already on it though. He opened the door to his room and zipped into the kitchen. With his joint still burning in his hand, he reached up into the cupboard to grab a glass and then a bottle of whiskey. Damn, maybe he should ask for some help?

You watched as he attempted to open the bottle, with his joint in his left hand. His quirk certainly was to be taken accounted for, and he knew it too, because he got too impatient and dusted away the cap, only for the disintegration to fall into the bottle.

"fuck," he said abruptly, but just decided to pour the alcohol in his glass, dust particles included.

"Tomu?" you questioned, watching him try to multitask putting the shit back while smoking his joint.

"Yea, I know, I'll share. Just hang'on."

"Can I help you?"

"Uh.." he spent a moment pondering as if it was a weighted decision. "Here, hold my joint."

You walked over to him and took it from his hands. You contemplated if you really wanted to smoke now, given his state. You knew early on that Tomura had a condition and this wasn't the first time you'd seen him manic. The fact that he wasn't on medication also meant that his episodes could get carried away, and he'd scare you. Not because he was scary...or maybe he was, but you knew it was because he had tripped into a heavy episode.

Tomura turned back to face you when he was done, noticing the joint burn down.

"Why aren't you smoking?" He asks. His tone was normal, though a little jumpy.

"I don't really wanna."

"Why? I don't like smoking by myself. Makes me feel like shit."

"You seem restless."

"Mm, how'd you guess?" He said with a blissfully agitated staring at you.

"Like..you're fast."

"I'm so speedy fast wanna watch me?"

"When's the last time you slept?"

Shigaraki paused and tried to sort through his recent memories but he was unsure. "Uh, maybe..five? Five days ago? I've probably had a nap or two though."

"Maybe we should calm down. Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Why're you talking to me like a kid?"

"I'm not, I'm worr-"

"Yea I know that, I can tell it's all over your fucking face. Listen, I'm well aware I'm batshit crazy right now but I'm NOT some tragedy, alright?"

"I didn't mean it that way," you stood shaking, trying to fight back your eyes watering.

Tomura sighed seeing you standing scared in front of him. He'd been trying to be fine for weeks. Tomura was never "fine," but when he was paranoid, hyper, determined, and careless beyond proper function, it was a major hindrance. Impacted his goals, though he was great at brainstorming when he was manic.

"You meant it. I'm not even like, mad. I don't know why this happens though, you've seen it before, right?"

"I have. Tomura, can I say something without you getting pissed?"

"What?"

"I think you have Bipolar Disorder."

"Oh really? Turn in your psychiatric report because I'm sure I'm many other things too!"

Tomura huffs and plops down on the living room couch. His adoptive father never gave him access to anything like mental health treatment. AFO told Tomura himself that issues of this matter where only problems that could help his passion for destruction. But Tomura would even admit, being manic beyond belief was scary. He heard voices, saw things that weren't there, sometimes his family, and it was a total living nightmare.

You snuck up behind the couch and began playing with his hair gently. He let out a "hm?", confused considering he just raised his voice at you.

"I just say it because I notice patterns. Like you'll be motivated and nonstop for weeks and then super depressive and bummed out. And it repeats over and over. Usually within the same time frames, too. I'm not trying to insult you, but it might explain things, right?"

You ran your fingers through his scalp. It was definitely a while since his last shower, too. His hair was greasy and dry, but you kept touching him. You could feel him relax into your fingers and whine.

"Sounds like bullshit. I'm not taking any pills."

"I'm not telling you to."

"Well, are you leaving or something? Gonna punish me for being Bipolar?

"No. I want to help you."

"Ain't you some fucking hero."

"I mean it. I can tell you're overwhelmed and just need some sleep or something. I'm not mad Tomura, I never was, I just want you to be ok."

His shoulders began to tense and shake a little. He may have been tearing up but you didn't look and he sat silent.

"Can we order pizza and play Mario Kart, instead? I don't wanna just sit. I'm too awake."

"Yes, baby. I can make a pillow fort!"

"Fuck yessss. Um. I'm also really sorry for yelling at you that wasn't cool."

"I understand Tomu."

You ruffled his hair and kissed his head quick before bolting off to grab your phone but he pulled you down to his lap before you could escape! mwah-ha-ha!

"Stay here for a bit."

"You're trapping me!!" You protested.

"You want me to settle down? Then stay."

Tomura rested his head against yours and held you like you were a stuffed animal. Soon, you could feel his body relax and heard snoring. You turned to see Tomura finally sleeping, but decided to sit still and drift off with for the rest of the night.

[honeyydrunk]

the nct fuckboy/fratboy agenda has me weakkkk omg give us more whenever u have the time ur so good!!!

ofc thank u !! they have me going delusional feral crazy barking and meowing !! let me do it for you let me write it out ANY MORE REQUESTS LEMME KNOW !!

part 1 link NCT COLLEGE FUCKBOYS PART 2 ten jeno jungwoo hendery yangyang renjun xiaojun winwin

ten lee chittaphon leechaiyapornkul is a whore. absolute whore. he's raising those neos into SLUTS. his reputation precedes him bc he is so pretty, so flexible, so ughhhhhhhhhhh !!!! like you see him for the first time and you know why people say he's got a body count bigger than his age. everyone wants to fuck himmm. he's so pretty, and even even prettier fucked out. messy hair and everything.

he's always flirting with someone new in the hallway when you see him. and like taeyong, his sex tapes get sent AROUND. people come up to him at school randomly and beg for 1 night w him. he's slept w all the neos at one point im sure about that.

you knew about how much of a SLUT bro was. but once you saw one of his sex tapes w johnny, you found yourself showed up outside of his class and begged for him. he responded that you should dm him w your application and he might get back to you about it. lee jeno 💪 bro is ur average athlete player fuckboy. THE cliche. smokes behind the benches, rich family, somehow top of the class. the one that everyone swears they won't fall for but they all want. you see a new girl on his arm each week and it hurts. but you've already fallen, it's just a matter of time. he'll start wearing you down and he didn't even know he did it. but you did. pulling the triangle technique when you lock eyes, catching you when you fall. and eventually he'll be right behind you when you shamefully admit to your friend that you want him. when he fucks you gone in his car? you know you need to get him to stay with you. you couldn't live without this. like you need his dick to even function. you've given up your life for him, just so that when he asks you're available to suck his dick.

JUNGWOO,,,, oh my god. he's so crazy. y'all remember the 2 baddies fuckboy jungwoo era. imagine that, but that's his default setting. man's still sugaring candy, but it's ur candy this time. he's sucking ur pussy if u didn't understand what doja said. he's the quiet slut. the whole school doesn't talk about him like they do mark, ten, taeyong and jeno. but when you see him? you're done for. batshit crazy delusional. his whole demeanour and personality is straight flirting, pulling his shirt up at every opportunity. the way he walks around the school with his sweet perfume trailing, he gets people going feral over him. people will just walk up and beg for him to fuck him, and ofc jungwoo obliges if they're hot enough.

he's so sweet when you taste him, like his cum is sweeter than sugar. his perfume too. everything about him is like a candy drug. a pretty moan when you suck him dry. he's so pretty and sweet that makes you cum too. genuinely, you start following him around school just so you can smell him. you don't even care it's creepy.

H E N D E R Y is the epitome of "so weird you forget he's hot." he's actually extremely popular. genuinely friends with everyone. people are a little hesitant because they know he's part of the neo slut gang, and they see him acting a little unusual special crazy. but they actually have a conversation with him and suddenly they realise, bro this guy is amazing. and jus like that he's friends with everyone.

but then, uh well here comes a strange phenomenon. you've only seen him being silly, a little whimsical even. but when you see him zoned out, or concentrating for once? ..... "oh". because you finally realise how beautiful he is. an actual prince. it's not exaggerated to say he's taken your breath away. you're in love. imagine how much it hurts to go to a party and realise that you're not the only one in the room that is. so many people had that exact experience as you. learning how beautiful he truly is, falling in love, and begging for him. you see him in the corner, zoned out from the loud music and watch one of the guys you're mutually friends with have that phenomenon right there and then, pulling him away to a cupboard.

the same thing happened 3 times that night. liu yangyang international exchange fuckboy. he doesn't realise he's a fuckboy though. with the whole funny and cute personality going on, he thinks he's just got an amazing ability to pull people. sleeping with a different person or multiple people at a party, to seeing someone new every day and asking for their instagram. bro doesn't even know about the horrendous reputation he's got. "dude people say i'm a slut? nahhh that's crazy."

yangyang is of the opinion he's just a funny chill guy. down for anything, including a little fun fuck times whenever someone asks. and while that's his reasoning, he doesn't quite understand how it looks to everyone else. a rich guy coming back from germany, taiwan, and wherever else for weekend getaway bender and driving to school in a luxury car with a new girl in it almost every day.

when he fucks? it's just like his personality. fun and hyper. bros fucking for a good time and with him it's definitely a good time. spilling cum on the luxury leather seats, tinted windows and a surround sound system. yeah,,,,, you see why he does this so often. it's genuinely so much fun. better make sure you give him a really good time though, so he invites you to his apartment next time.

renjunnie the most smug class president for some, and nct's little plaything to others. it really depends on who you ask. for people in his class, he is the most obnoxious, smug, annoying ahh know it all, with the biggest dick. (a stick up his ass which is obviously jenos). genuinely, every person he's tutored has ended up unfortunately eyeing him instead of the book. how did that end? with him being just as rude and bitchy as he fucks you. measuring how much he pleases you by how much you can answer while fucked out.

but for the ones that know of the dreamies having their way with him can't possibly see him as anything other than a little toy. the way the other six just devour that man is actually quite shocking. lowkey surprised bro can even walk.

xiaojun oh my lord. this man's moans are heavenly. you actually cum when you hear them. (lowkey think some czennie do when he hits those notes). he's part of the nct moaner gets passed around line with renjun, haechan, taeyong, and ten. horrid sex tapes.

he looks so beautiful. standing in front of the school performance during an assembly, halting everyone with his voice. if you could look around, you'd see everyone frozen. haunted by his siren song and face that launched a thousands wars. everyone in that room was looking at him, and only him. in that room, no one was in a relationship. how could they love anyone else except him.

countless marriage proposals, dowrys of billions. everyone in that room would give xiaojun the world in exchange for a sliver of his love. no joke someone has given him a car in exchange for his private instagram account. winwin bros got the cha eunwoo effect. the campus crush. he hangs out with the china line horrid fuckboys , yangyang hendery chenle. but who cares? that actually elevates his status. literally a rose in a garden of slutty ahh thorns. that's not to say he's not a giant fuckboy. he's just quieter about it.

with his quiet excuses, sneak dates an hour away, his subtle ways of affection. he says he doesn't want attention, so you can't publicly date. but that's just so the other girls won't find out. he doesn't even think he's dating you, just seeing where it goes. eventually you'll call it off, "making it easier on your friendship" you say. that's how he goes through so many girls.

taking you to a beautiful garden several hours out of the city, you think it's romantic. he uses a different phone to text with you, 'so the guys don't go through my regular one and tease you'.

enjoying the sunlight he's slowly fingering you so you're focused on his love, and not seeing what's right in front of you

tags: @stanskzorillkickyou you asked for yangyang bbg !!

prev: haechan, mark, johnny, yuta, jaemin, kun, chenle, jisung next: jaehyun doyoung, perhaps lucas sungchan shotaro

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 4 - Immediate Murder Professionals

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

Blitzø just might be stupid.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word Count: 2,340

Warnings: eh, mentions of sex only i think. also stolas is newly separated so he's trying this new thing called flirting. yes i'm a firm believer that stolas is naturally so weirdly flirty he could make a succubus flustered no questions asked.

“...and then I yelled ‘sorry I fucked your husband’ and just kinda… left.” 

Everyone was gathered around the big table in the meeting room at I.M.P., per Blitzø’s request. Well, he didn’t request it, per se- it was something more along the lines of yelling “Anyone who’s not a whiny bitch follow me, I got something to show you” and everyone just sort of complying. 

He had been on and on in excruciating detail about how he’d up and stolen whatever it was he wanted to show you. He had yet to show you a thing.

“Oh wow. You are an idiot,” you state.

“And why is that, witch bitch?”

“You stole from a Goetia prince?”

“Yeah I did. And I looked sexy doing it.”

“What did you even wanna steal so bad?” Millie asks.

“Oh-ho-ho. You’re not even fuckin’ ready. None of you are even fucking ready.” He slams a big, heavy book on the desk. You inspect it, trying to figure out why he would go out of his way, in a borderline suicidal quest, to steal a book. Your eyes widen when you realize you know exactly what it is. 

“You stole from STOLAS?” He had to be fucking- wait. “Wait, you fucked Stolas?” 

“What how’d you know it was him?”

“It’s- it’s his Grimoire. That’s what this is isn’t it?”

“Yup. And with this,” he explains to the others, since apparently you already knew of it, “we’ll be able to go up to the living world and kill any human we’re paid to kill.”

“That- that’s- Blitzø this is insane. And I don’t mean good insane. I mean batshit crazy insane.”

“How do you even know what this is?”

“I- I used to see him a lot. You know. Ozzie stuff. They’re always in meetings. I didn’t- I’m really having trouble believing he acted like that-”

“What, like a needy bitch in heat?” Blitzø cuts you off.

You feel yourself get flustered at the implication, not managing to finish whatever you had been about to say. 

“Oh my fucking Satan, Blitz,” Loona lets out a groan, frustrated at what she was hearing, which is fair. It’s enough to prompt her to leave the room entirely, assumingly to her seat at the front desk. 

“Sir, you need to give this back.” Moxxie pushes the book across the table back to him.

“What? After everything I had to go through to get it? No way!”

“No, Mox is right. Stolas is nice, but he’s still, like, one of the most powerful demons down here, dude. And this is- this is next level doing him wrong. You didn’t just steal from him, you played with his feelings too. That’s so much worse.”

“Feelings? Come on! So we’re all ganging up on Blitzo now, are we?” You all cringed a bit whenever he used his own given name. It felt weird and just totally… wrong, considering how adamant he always was about correcting everyone else when it came to it, but, to be fair, he didn’t really seem to notice when he did it. He just happened to absentmindedly call himself that sometimes when he was feeling criticized, which… well, you weren’t sure if you wanted to unpack whatever that meant. He keeps on. “I’m sorry I worry about us having jobs and money to pay rent and food to feed ourselves!”

“Blitz that’s not-” Millie starts, but gets cut off by Loona, who walks back into the room. “Guys, there’s an… owl… guy… thing… looking for Blitz out there.”

Oh, shit.

“We’re gonna die,” Moxxie mutters under his breath, starting to chant it over and over again, eyes almost popping out of his head. Millie puts her arms around his shoulders and brings his head to her lap to try and calm him down, sending a death glare- much like yourself- towards Blitzø, who now looked like a deer in headlights, caught red-handed, apparently not expecting to be found that soon. 

“Uuuhhh, tell him I’m not here!”

“Already did, he said some weird shit about being able to smell you or whatever the fuck that was about. That guy’s a fucking freak.” Huh. Maybe Blitzø wasn’t lying.

“Uhhh fuck fuck fuck fuck, gotta think, gotta think,” Blitzø begins pacing in circles around the room.

“Well? What the fuck did you expect?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead, alright? Sue me.”

“Oh really? I could have sworn you had everything figured out!” 

His head shoots up and he points at you, completely ignoring your sarcasm. “You go talk to him!” 

“Me? This is your problem!”

“Our problem! You work here don’t you?”

“Blitz I swear to Satan.”

“Pleeeaaaase?” He tries making puppy eyes at you. It’s kind of bizarre, but not entirely useless. “You said you know him, he’ll probably be nicer to you. Maybe you can soften the blow. Ha. Blow.”

“If it doesn’t work I’m ratting you out and I’m not gonna feel bad about it.”

“Thank you thank you thank you, I’ll owe you one, now go!”

You let out a groan, making sure he hears it. You could not believe you were about to do this. Sure, let’s confront pissed-off demon royalty about something of theirs that you definitely have in your possession just in the next room. Nothing could possibly go wrong with that. “Can you tell him to go to your dad’s office, Loons?”

“Yeah whatever.”

You make your way out of the meeting room and into Blitzø’s office, which is… a sight to behold. There were horse drawings scattered everywhere around the room, figurines of Millie, Moxxie, and yourself on top of his desk (you didn’t even want to know), guns you knew definitely didn’t have their safety locks on just laying on various different surfaces. Yeah, it was all very on-brand. 

You sit down on his chair, getting barely a few seconds to prepare yourself for your talk with Stolas before he walks into the room.

Well, no, he doesn’t exactly walk in. He leans against the door frame, pulling a leg up and running a hand up it as he starts speaking, yet to take a look into the room. “For someone so remarkably sexy you are so hard to find, Bli- oh my!” He’s visibly startled when he finally makew eye contact with you, evidently having expected Blitzø to be the one in your place. Almost tripping over himself, he tries to pull himself together, fixing his posture and wiping non-existent dust off of his clothes as if to pretend he hadn’t just made a fool of himself. Stolas had always kept his composure around you whenever he went over to meet with Ozzie, so this behavior… it was definitely new. 

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I thought you were-”

You decide to save him the embarrassment. Or, well,  further embarrassment. “Your Highness! Hi.”

“Y/n.” He remembers your name. What, of course he remembers your name, dumbass! That’s completely normal. “You… Do you not work for Asmodeus anymore?”

“Not really. I’d been working there a long time. Wanted to try something new.”

“So you chose to work… here?” He motions around, and you couldn’t blame him. It didn’t look like the best place in Hell. And you supposed it did seem like an odd change in occupation. 

“We’re a work in progress.”

“Well, do you and Asmodeus still keep in touch? I recall you were quite good friends.”

“Yes! We still are. We still are. How have you been, uh, doing, your highness?” You ask, carefully. 

“Please, there is still no need to call me that.” Your interactions always went like this- you called him by his title, he insisted you call him by his name, and you always refused to. Strangely enough, you called him by his name when referring to him in conversation with Ozzie. 

But you don’t feel the need for all of that now. “Right, I’m sorry. Stolas.” 

“Well, I haven’t been doing quite so great, actually. I’m sure you’re aware why.”

You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them up again and forcing yourself to make eye contact with him, trying to stay collected. Play it cool. “I… might have an idea, yes.”

“You see, you have worked with Asmodeus for a long time. You’ve been around myself plenty, haven’t you, darling?”

Had he ever called you darling before? You’re positive he’s never, ever done that. 

Chill, dumbass! It’s just a fancy people thing. No big deal. “Yes.”

“Yes, so you know how crucial my Grimoire is for my purpose in the Ars Goetia, don’t you?” He speaks to you in an almost condescending manner. You almost feel insulted. Did his voice always sound like that?

“Yes.”

“Perfect. So I suppose you understand why I would be very upset when I came to find out your friend, Blitzy, stole such a sacred artifact from me.”

“I understand.”

“My Grimoire contains spells that are meant for mine and, in the future, my daughter’s use only, and it would simply be a scandal if it fell into the hands of itty bitty imps such as yourselves.” Okay, he was definitely being condescending now. Why was it kind of hot? It was definitely hot. 

What the fuck.

“Uhhhhh-”

“It makes things so much worse that he simply hurt my feelings! After a night of such passionate fornication, you could only imagine my surprise when I came to find out the book had been missing! Had I not known better I would have sworn it had been deceiving work of someone like yourself.”

“Like myself?”

“You are a succubus, aren’t you, dear?” He tilts his head to the side as if what he meant had been obvious. And it probably had- you’d just read too much into it. Was what Blitzø had told you about what happened getting to your head or something?

“Ooookay. Uh. I’m really- I’m really sorry about… all of that. Uh. Wow. Uh that really is a lot huh? I’m just gonna… I’m just gonna go call Blitz now and you guys can talk it out maybe. That fine for you? Fantastic. Good talk, Stolas!”

You slip past him and out of the office, catching your breath before going back into the meeting room to call Blitzø and let him handle the situation. What the actual fuck was that?

[. . .]

“So?” Millie questions Blitzø as he enters the meeting room again after a good half hour. Everyone follows, looking at him expectantly. 

He pauses, for dramatic effect. “Guess who just founded the first human-killing business in Hell?”

“What?” You ask, incredulous.

“I’m sorry sir are you saying the Prince is letting us use his spell book?”

“You heard it, Mox.”

“H-how?”

“Well I’m gonna have to dick him down every full moon but I guess that’s a good trade.”

The room goes silent. 

Moxie breaks the silence first. “Uhh, what?”

“What?”

“What’s that about the full moon?”

“Oh well. Well, apparently I’m a fantastic fucking lay, just unforgettable. So all I gotta do to have the book is give it back to him every full moon and then fuck him into oblivion and we’re good to go.”

“And you’re sure you’re fine with that?” You ask him, carefully. 

“Well yeah? It’s fucking great! We get the book AND I get to fuck a Prince into submission every once in a while? Couldn’t be better.”

You’re not that sure about it, but what was the point in arguing with him? You shrug. “If you say so.”

“And he’s just… fine with that?” Moxxie questions, not buying it.

“What, you think I’d lie?”

“Yeah,” everyone replies, without hesitation.

“Well I’m not!”

“Well shit. Your dick must be good.” Well, that wasn’t supposed to come out.

He grins. “Ya wanna find out?”

You stare at him, unamused, for a second, locking eyes with Moxxie soon after. 

“You deserved that,” Moxxie points out.

“Yeah I regretted it as soon I said it.”

“You really should have seen it coming,” Blitzø himself adds.He grabs the Grimoire, bringing everyone’s attention to it. “So. Aren’t y’all curious? I know I wanna know what the human realm is like.”

“It’s really not that different from here,” you tell him.

“Oh yeah, I forget you’ve been there before. What do you guys even do there?”

“Uuuhhh.”

“They fuck people to death, Mills, ain’t that cool?”

“Oh shut up you know that hardly ever happens anymore.”

“But’cha could.”

You sigh, knowing he just wanted to hear that he was right. You give him a little smile. “But I could.” 

“Hell yeah!” It was always weirdly nice that he thought that part of what you were was cool rather than being disgusted by it.  “Should we go take a look?”

“How’d ya even work this thing?” Millie asks, examining the book in Blitzø’s hands.

“Fuck if I know.”

“You didn’t ask him?” Loona asks.

“Not really.”

“I’m not even-” she rolls her eyes. “Gimme that” Snatching the book from him and going through the pages for a bit, she stops in a particular one, attempting a few times to read some words from it. Fair enough, a portal leading… somewhere… appears. You’d have to put a pin on that for later and ask her how she knew what to do, but right now everyone was too excited.

“Let’s go fuck some humans to death!” Blitzø exclaims.

“No.” You say sternly.

“Let’s go fuck some humans?” He tries again.

“Sir! No!” Moxxie yells, disgusted.

“Let’s go kill some humans!”

“Hell yeah!” Millie finally agrees,

“Yeah! Wait why am I even listening to you guys, I’m the boss here!” 

“Sure thing Blitz.” You assure him, getting your foot through the portal. “You coming?”

Blitzø turns around. “Looney? You’re not killing anyone there. Got it? It’s too dangerous.”

“But that’s no fun!”

“Looney.”

“Fine.”

“Let’s go kill some humans then!” He shoves you into the portal, jumping through right after you. Jackass.

A/N: i did a lot of things different than i said id do lmao and i toned down the flirting from stolas to leave it for a different chapter hope this is fun it aint gonna be fun for v long luv yall

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 11

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

Summary: It’s time for you to face Ghostface head on.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Pretty gnarly violence, Tara being protective and kinda batshit crazy, betrayals left and right

A/N: lol

Shit.

When you open your eyes and see nothing but a hot blinding light, you think you might've died and gone to heaven.

"God?" You whisper, blinking slowly.

It was in fact, not god, you find out once your eyes properly adjust.

You're stuck in a tiny compartment; so small you think you might suffocate. The walls are painted a shade of obsidian black that makes you feel like you're stuck in a black hole. Only one single flickering lightbulb grants you sight.

Your arms are sore; so sore, and it only intensifies when you try and pull them up from the weird position they're in.

Huh, I can't move my arms.

You tug at the rope-like fabric of material that's holding your hands together. It doesn't budge in the slightest. Panic rises like wildfire in you.

You breathe deep. Try to gather your wits and make sense of anything that is possibly going on.

"Get it together." You remind yourself.

You blink once.

Feeling a little more clear, you realize that you're strapped tight to a chair, back pressed uncomfortably close to the ridges.

Where am I?

There's no time to find the answer to that question since the wall is moving- oh it's a door-, and Ghostface appears right in front of you, smiling.

Well, you don't really know if he's smiling. But the way he's moving, all confident and cocky, makes you think you're not too far off.

It hits you all at once. Now that you're fully conscious, you can feel everything.

One inhale and your lungs feel like they're on fire. Breathing is hard.

You groan, the pain all too overwhelming for your brain to work properly. It would be embarrassing how loud you were if you cared in the least.

You can only seem to think of one thing.

"Where is she?" You ask, with all the confidence of someone in the position of interrogating Ghostface.

Tara. God, what did they do to Tara?

“Of course, your first words are about her." Ghostface spits, still using that goddamned voice modulator.

“Where is she?” You spit, trying your very best to look intimidating.

It's not very convincing when you're heaving and gasping like a fish out of water.

"Would you believe me if I said she was already dead?" Ghostface drawls, tracing their knife along your jawline, pressing just enough for you to feel it.

You scoff.

"Right...you'd kill one of your beloved 'main characters' before the finale." You say, sure you've read him to filth.

"But, this is the ending. Don't you see?" He continues to tease, unbothered by your last comment.

You huff, but you feel your heart picking up speed slightly.

What if...he was telling the truth?

A shrill scream sounds throughout the theater, and you feel your blood run cold as you recognize exactly who it is.

"Tara." You breathe, half terrified and half relieved she's still alive.

"Tara!" You yell, as loud as your lungs are willing to let you.

Tara doesn't reply. What you do get is a smack to the head and an elbow to the jaw.

"Be quiet." Ghostface hisses, and you can almost swear he sounds sort of scared.

"Be quiet or I'm going to get my ass whooped." He mumbles, and you pull back as far as you can, eyebrows raised.

You bite back the need to tell him you definitely don't care if he gets in trouble or not, not wanting to get slapped in the face a billion more times.

"Come on." He grumbles, gripping the back of the chair and lifting it up swiftly.

The feeling of your feet dangling off the chair reminds you of one of your favorite memories.

"Mint ice cream sucks," Tara tells you definitively.

You squint your eyebrows at her and bring up a hand to your heart like she's just stabbed you.

She's sitting with her ice cream in hand, a good distance away from you. You guys peer down at all the university students walking around, now the size of ants; trying to point out people you guys recognize.

It was your own little secret spot. Tara could never really go study outside uni, since her sister was always up her ass about traveling unknown spaces. You never asked her why, pure sister protectiveness, you guessed.

A couple of weeks into knowing Tara, she'd brought you up to this mini garden haven of hers, all shy and smiley.

She's sitting now and she's looking so pretty with her big brown eyes and freckles out for display. They shine bright today, sunshine illuminating her face and making everything just pop the slightest bit more.

You get a wicked idea, and before you can stop yourself, scoot yourself closer and place your arm around her.

Tara cocks an eyebrow at you, but before she can speak a word, you start tickling her sides.

"Stop!" Tara squeals. Her face turning a bright pink comically fast.

You're careful not to tickle her too hard, or else you think she might just slide off the ledge and fall right here.

You're close now, closer than you should be. Tension swims in the air. You lean down to whisper into her ear.

"That's what you get for saying mint sucks." You huff, smirking a little as she shudders from the feeling of your breath fanning her ear.

When you pull back and look into her eyes, you're surprised to see them wide and dilated. She has a weird expression her face, like she's fighting something in herself.

You lean in slowly, stuck in a trace with the way she's looking at you.

She grips your shirt and pulls you in further, your noses brushing. And then suddenly, like she's just snapped out of her daze, she sits up abruptly.

She laughs nervously, letting go of your shirt.

"I think Sam's calling me. I'll see you tomorrow. Same time?" She's saying, but she's not even giving you a second to answer before she's sprinting away.

Despite the sort of failed kiss, you chuckle a little. You feel the blush creep up to the tips of your ears.

The day your crush on Tara Carpenter officially started.

It's a bad time to start daydreaming, but you figure if you're going to die right now, it wouldn't be so bad to think of the love of your life while you go.

The sound of Tara's voice brings you back to life.

"YN!" She gasps, from somewhere behind you. You're still getting dragged, hair stuck to your forehead, eyes blurred.

You try your best to blink everything back to focus.

She's standing on the platform slightly below you, beside Sam, looking relieved. There's a brick in her hand.

You try and say her name but all that comes out is a painful groan. Everything feels heavy. Your shirt is painted red where your stomach wound is, and you figure you must've ripped the stitches.

There's another Ghostface beside you, the two of them bracketing you on either side.

Not that you would have the energy to up and escape anyway.

"Tara..." Sam warns, eyeing her sister like she knows what she's about to do.

Tara rushes forward, ignoring Sam's protest, trying to get to you. To hold you in her arms, to press her hands against your wound, to kiss it better; to do anything.

The Ghostface to your right swings their knife as soon as she comes into the vicinity, and slices the skin above Tara's collarbone easily. She gasps from the jab. Red liquid seeps out immediately.

You feel the Ghostface to your left tense, a mixture of a gasp and a yell stuck together.

"Anika wait-!" The Ghostface is saying, the name slipping out as easy as second nature.

Everybody stills.

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The other Ghostface whirls around, shoulders tight.

Sam tugs Tara back quietly, looking between the two Ghostfaces. Your head is swimming.

"What did you say?" Ghostface- supposedly Anika, says.

"What the fuck." You manage to spit out, but it goes unheard, everyone being laser-focused on the scene unfolding right in front of them.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry I didn't mean to say that. It's just, I thought you were going to kill Tara. I couldn't let you do that." The other Ghostface reasons, albeit unconvincingly. He stumbles over his words, in a tone that's all too familiar to you.

"Ethan?" You hesitate, tears brimming in your eyes.

The Ghostface that's hovering above you drops down to your ear level, whispering softly.

"Well, aren't you just a smart little thing?" And promptly slides off that wretched Ghostface mask, and even though you knew, you have to gasp at who you see.

Anika.

Sweet sweet Anika.

"Just take it off. It's not like they don't already know." Anika tells Ethan, an order more than anything.

You tilt your head just enough to see Ethan take off his mask, grinning nervously.

"What the fuck?" You hear Tara say, but it sounds so far away.

"But, but how-" Sam starts, pointing at Ethan, her face as pale as a ghost.

He looks good, healthy. More alive than you've ever seen him. There's a glint in his eye you've never seen before.

"I'm alive. Surprise!" He grins, flashing the four of you a pearly white smile.

I must be dreaming.

You squeeze your eyes shut. He's still standing there when you open them again. Shit.

"But I watched you die, I felt the blood. You-you died in my arms. I saw the ambulance pick you up." You splutter, voice cracking unevenly.

"You know...some fake blood and a couple of acting classes can do wonders. You guys really are not good at picking up on hints." Anika sing songs, waving her dagger in the air.

"Seriously...we even had to send you a note." She continues, scrunching her nose in disgust.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you so hell-bent on destroying us?" Sam asks, fire in her eyes. She looks scary. Messing with Sam was one thing, but messing with her sister? You have a feeling they'll be dead in minutes.

Anika sighs dramatically, putting a hand up to her chin and feigning thought.

"Gosh. Where do I even start? Let's set the scene: it's 1996. There's been two mysterious murders in the small town of Woodsboro, leaving everyone in fright." She recounts, words slipping out of her mouth with ease like she's rehearsed them a million times.

Sam rolls her eyes, fed up with this godforsaken story that seems to follow her anywhere.

"Akio Kayoko however, lives happily, because finally his two bullies Billy and Stu aren't on his ass anymore. They have more important things to worry about."

Sam cuts in before Anika goes any further.

"Are you fucking kidding me? This is all because what, your dad couldn't handle a couple wedgies? Are you a little daddy's girl?" She says, fed up.

Anika shoots her an icy glare, but continues.

"You don't even know what you're talking about." Anika tells her, voice lowering to soft and almost sorrowful.

"Poor dad, he just had to go to that party. Do you know what happens to a person when they go through something traumatic? It changes them. He came out the only bystander that survived, but not without a scarred face and a scarred soul to show for it." She murmurs. She turns suddenly, a new pep in her mannerisms.

"Your father," she points at Sam accusingly, "and your father," she points her knife at you, "fucked my dad up royally. He got diagnosed with severe depression and bipolar disorder from it. And for what?" She seethes.

"Your guys' fathers are just racist assholes. You deserve everything that's coming to you, don't you even doubt it for a second!" She sneers, with so much venom and power that you can't help but agree.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, try to explain that you aren't your dad, but Anika beats you to it.

"Did you know he left me? I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was 6." She tells you, voice getting softer. Your heart tugs for her.

She straightens up, as if just realizing where she was, and her icy facade once again builds up.

"Anywho, motive enough for you Sam?" She tilts her head up, eyes bright.

Sam stands scarily still, but you can see the concern swimming in her eyes.

Ethan's standing wide-eyed like this is all new information to him.

"It really wasn't that hard getting you two to meet. All I had to do was invite Tara to that party and just give YN a little bump so you two would talk." Anika continues, and you furrow your eyebrows. Party? You met Tara at a party?

Your eyes dart to Tara and she's looking at you a little solemnly, and suddenly it hits you like a truck. Memories that have never been unlocked before replay in your mind now. The angel from that party.

That was Tara.

"After that, everything just fell into place. You guys are one pathetic predictable group of people." Ethan pipes up.

"The friendship, the night you got stabbed, it was all planned. I mean, why do you think I took you back to the apartment? For Anika to "stitch you up?" He asks excitedly, looking at Anika for approval to speak further. She gives him an annoyed nod.

"And guess what the best part is," He giggled midway, but gains his composure again. "Every time she came to fix you up, she actually poisoned the wound. Never too much that you would notice- but enough to guarantee your death today. It's infected." He cheers, like he hasn't just told you you're going to die.

"Jesus, you never told me how bad it was," Tara says, making your eyes dart back to hers, trying to catch her gaze to inadvertently say your sorry, but she doesn't meet your eyes.

"I didn't want you to worry." You sigh.

Ethan makes a noise of disgust. He looks at you with scrunched eyebrows, a little crinkle of his nose betraying his chill facade. His gaze shifts to Tara, and you can't help but notice his voice move just a pitch higher.

"Poor Tara. Caught in this sick twisted web between your sister and your girlfriend. You didn't even do anything wrong right, baby? Don't worry...nothing's going to happen to you. I've made sure of that." He tells her, and it hits you all at once.

"Baby? What are you talking about? " Tara asks, cocking her head to the side.

"I love you, Tara. I did all of this just for you. When the both of them are dead, you and I can get together. Finally." He says, between deep breaths.

You don't know how you never saw it before. Memories of the prior weeks flash in front of your eyes.

His heart eyes for your girlfriend every time the group would have a movie night and you two would cuddle, the weird lingering around the both of you whenever you'd go out.

You just figured he really liked your company.

"You're out of your mind you sick fuck. Tara would never date you, even if you were the last person on earth." Is what Sam says, and despite the consequences of what's sure to come, your heart sings.

Last person on earth.

Ethan stutters, like he never thought of the possibility that she would reject him. You see tears forming immediately, frown apparent. He's trying to keep it together- you can tell.

He leans back slightly, dejected. His eyes cloud with something you can only describe as hatred, and for a scary moment, you think he seriously might jump at Tara.

However, he doesn't get the time to act on his thoughts, because in less than a blink of an eye Anika's moving over and stabbing him in the neck.

"Agh!" He grunts. A trickle of blood runs down the side of his mouth, then it bursts. So, so much thick crimson liquid gurgles out.

Anika stands behind him, sliding her knife out his back, wiping the blood clean.

"Gosh, what a bore he was, right? True love this true love that. I couldn't listen to that shit any longer." She gags, leaning over to stick her tongue out at Ethan's lifeless face. She stabs him again in the jaw for good measure.

She looks back at the three of you, who are clearly aghast.

"Gotta make sure he's dead right?" She smiles, and it finally gets through to you that she's lost it. Whoever you thought you knew, that person never existed.

No one answers her as she stands up.

You turn stoney-faced as you look up at her. "So what's the plan Anika? How are you gonna get away with this?"

She turns around, rolling her eyes. Before you know it, she's advancing towards you, knife raised. She jabs lightly at your wound. Teases her knife against your skin. You really wish people would stop picking that specific part to hurt you.

"Do we really need to go over this again? Kill you guys blah blah blah, find Mindy and kill her, say that you and Sam went crazy like their fathers. Really, it's not hard to understand." Anika continues, shuffling her feet as she speaks like she's bored.

Time is ticking before she snaps and just decides to kill you, you know it. Not to mention the fact that you were actively dying.

"What do you really want from us? Just name your price now, and we'll- we'll get it. Just let her go." Tara splutters, almost begging.

Anika stomps her feet with the energy of a three year olds tantrum, "I want revenge! Have I not made that clear enough?" she basically yells.

Sam moves forward slowly, like a wildlife expert moving towards a wild beast.

"Look I'm sure we can come to an agreement about something-" She's saying, but Anika rolls her eyes once again and advances lazily towards you.

Nothing happens in slo-mo like the movies, you can barely register her face before she's plunging the dagger deep into the other side of your lower stomach. You can feel it pierce it's way through your whole body.

You hear a scream but it sounds a million miles away. You gag, moving your head to the side to try and puke, but nothing comes out. You try to groan in frustration but it makes your skin sting everywhere that you stop. You just stop for a moment.

Tara's fully sobbing now, you think. You can't really tell.

All hell breaks loose. Sam breaks out into a sprint at Anika, effectively knocking her down till both of them are tumbling on the floor.

You see flashes of black and gray and blood spurting from someone.

"Stay with me." You hear someone say, and try with everything in you to blink back everything into focus. It's Tara.

Her mascara is everywhere. Black stripes of tears and makeup streak down her pretty face, and you feel the urge even now to bring your hand up and wipe the tears away.

You try and tell her to stop crying but the words die in your mouth. What feels like fire engulfs your lungs.

"Stay with me. I'll be right back." She whispers, pressing a kiss to your chapped lips.

You search your mind desperately for a way out of this mess, a solution, but everything goes blank. Your ears ring, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pain.

With everything you have in you, you squeeze Tara's hand one last time, and tell her to take the knife currently lodged in you out.

Tara's eyes darken, the most cloudy you've ever seen them.

"No, no. I couldn't do that." She says, another round of tears falling down her cheeks. She shakes her head adamantly, but you shush her.

"Please. For me." You manage to get out, then with the utmost acceptance, you let yourself go.

Tara doesn't remember much of what happened after that. She remembers sobbing, she remembers someone screaming, but she can't be too sure if it's her or someone else. She remembers the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip on her hand, and she remembers seeing red.

With no where else to channel her emotions, and with your words engraved in her mind, she turns on Anika.

She hurries over to where she's still wrestling with Sam, expression tight, and grabs the first thing she can find in this shithole of a theater.

Your father's wooden box.

She remembers faintly telling Sam to fuck off, and smashing the box over Anika's head. Then picking it up and doing the same thing again. And again, and again. She remembers taking the heel of her shoes and smashing it to Anika's nose, breaking it in one clean hit.

She remembers going back to you, your white as paper skin, and yanking the knife out of you.

And the final thing she remembers is screaming at Anika while she buries the knife in and out of the girl’s body, everywhere, again and again.

[tired-biscuit]

Cockwarming kiba as a punishment for him being jealous but he literally cannot stand it and instead tries to fuck you wildly 😩

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: cockwarming, jealousy, degrading (reader gets called names), lots of bickering, kind of a sweet ending, established relationship.

↳ you wear a skirt that your boyfriend thinks is much too short for his own personal comfort. after he shares his (mostly unwanted) opinion on it, an argument ensues for which you both end up paying for.

all kiba wants to do is pound your pussy. but instead of doing that, he’s being forced to sit completely still, while you literally soak his cock as punishment.

it all happens so quick, neither of you remembers who had made the first move as a means to connect in the midst of the storm that is your argument. one second you were screaming at him, losing your shit and acting ‘batshit crazy’, and the next you were tasting his tongue in your mouth, experiencing the prickle of his canines tugging on your bottom lip like so many times before.

it’s different this time, however. while the kissing might be something you’re used to by now and is nothing short from a whirlwind of transparent need and an almost ferocious exhibition of love, the air in the room sits heavy; it’s laced with unresolved tension that you’re both secretly dreading for having to sort out.

it’s a sensitive matter. words had been said, poison unleashed, and you can’t take any of it back. panting on the couch, you’re both avoidant when it comes to facing the consequences as you try to cool down after the tense, oddly sexually-charged fight you’ve just had.

you suppose it’s safe to say that it’s not going all that well.

the living room has gotten hot, it’s been like this for the last twenty minutes or so. kiba’s body feels like it’s burning, reaching close to a hundred degrees because of how pissed he is at the fact that you keep on refusing to bounce up and down his dick in that slutty way that you know damn well he’s an absolute sucker for.

your body, meanwhile, has practically been set ablaze as an aftermath of the stretch that you willingly choose to endure between your legs. it makes you pulsate with heat right from within; causing you to simmer with annoyance and pleasure at the same time. he’s so snug inside you, fits you so well.

both of you want to move, it’s making you visibly desperate. but you can’t; at least not until one of you admits defeat first.

“apologize.”

“nah.”

a fed up scoff leaves you at his point-blank denial, at how he really makes an effort to say it as nonchalantly as possible. it’s like he doesn’t care, even if you know that he’d die for you at the end of the day. it’s just the kind of man he is.

you stare at one another; gazes filling to the brim with lust, but also getting intense, heated with bitter disapproval that emits from both sides in nearly equal amounts.

pride truly can be a curse. to an outsider, it would look like you’ve come to despise each other from how venomously you’re currently glaring at him and he at you. there are daggers hiding in your respective stares, though all their cuts are superficial. the blades might be honed, but neither of you lets them cut too deep. years of partnership has taught you well.

still, kiba’s anger is intense, so much so that it’s almost palpable in the room you’re in. the irked look that now sits on his face only fuels your own outrage that you feel for him. it’s no wonder that the longer you stare at your persistently obstinate boyfriend, the desire to spit the outright nastiest, most hurtful words that you’d ever be able to come up with on the spot, gets so profound that it nearly starts to swell within your chest.

they’re getting awfully impatient as they sit on the tip of your tongue, the insults. you can feel them pushing against the back of your teeth as they desperately try to break free so that they can relieve some of the frustration that dangerously bubbles inside you, and can thus cause damage you’d both regret later on.

you want to say them so badly, and yet, one look aimed at his dark brown eyes makes you swallow every bad word. makes you shove them down your throat, that feels way too tight because of the knot that’s currently residing in it. makes you keep yourself in-check and forces your mouth to remain shut, because you’re well aware that it’s not worth it, even if there’s red clouding every corner of your vision.

there’s nothing but love underneath the surface.

after all, you surely wouldn’t end up in this sticky situation if there was no heart, yes?

it’s time to try again.

“apologize.”

“no.”

“c’mon,” you huff, blinking away the merest hint of tears from your eyes. “apologize.”

“mm… stop that.”

the way you readjust ever so slightly then, wiggling your hips in the most careful manner, makes him swallow thickly this time, and causes the vein in the side of his neck to bulge against his tan skin.

kiba exhales loudly through his nose at the little movement, repressing the urge to groan in pleasure that it invokes. his lips press into a firm line when he looks up at you from underneath his dark lashes. he doesn’t want you to cry — he loves you, goddammit — but at the same time, he doesn’t want you to win either.

in his unfortunately small, male brain, he feels like you’re the one that’s in the wrong about the entire situation. just like you must surely feel like he is in yours.

but can you blame him for it, really? he simply isn’t capable of understanding the reason as to why you’d ever want to wear a skirt that short anywhere else but in the safe confines of your home, where he’d be the only one able to lay eyes on it and would consequently slide his hands underneath it just as well.

he’s overthinking it. is wondering if you’re doing it because you’re somehow trying to mess with him on purpose. if you are trying to make him jealous by wearing it, which you’ve indeed succeeded in doing already, and if you are trying to provoke him as well. god, what if you’re doing it to catch someone else’s eye? and whose eye exactly, if you are?

to be fair, he’s well aware of your freedom when it comes to picking and choosing your outfits, as well as every other thing, of course, and he normally doesn’t fuss about it at all but rather supports it instead. but come on; even you must admit that you’re acting straight up absurd this time.

aren’t you?!

the wretched thing is so tiny that it makes your entire ass peek out from underneath the hem. and yes, that’s when you’re not bending over at the middle. he’s made sure.

he could see everything as you’d carelessly strolled past him earlier, telling him that you’re ready to go out. could see the smooth back of your thighs, the fat of your ass. hell, he could even see how plump your fucking pussy looked in your cutesy underwear.

the same plump pussy that he’s sank balls deep into, now. the same fat ass that he’s got his hands full with; blunt nails sinking into the plush flesh as he hikes the piece of clothing that is to blame for all of this higher up your waist.

“i said no,” he mutters quietly, his breathing ragged from how overwhelmed and impatient he’s getting. his cock is leaking inside of you. it makes him twitch all over; he can’t stay still.

you make a note of how he doesn’t sound as self-asssured as he did before, even if his gaze remains unmoving from yours. and sure, while he might be stubborn as a bull, you don’t miss the unsure flicker of a muscle in his cheek when you purposefully squeeze around him, though. the way his dick throbs in response, warming your sensitive walls, causes one corner of your lips to kick upward slightly.

he’s giving in.

“c’mon, ki,” you utter sweetly, trying a different approach whilst squeezing him again just for good measure. “just say you’re sorry and we’ll, umm… forget this ever happened. yeah, baby?”

“fuck no,” he replies in a whisper, furrowing his brow at the sudden sugar in your tone. there’s sweat gleaming on it already.

“why not?”

“because.”

“because, why?”

“just ‘cause.”

“okay, but why?”

“‘cause i don’t wanna say it, all right?!” he frowns. “now stop pesterin’ me.”

you’re getting nowhere.

but what he does want from you, though, is for you to just fucking ride him already. this forced stillness, that you’re making him follow through with as punishment for what he’d said about your outfit earlier, is absolute torture. it’s his own personal kind of hell.

and he wants out.

“why don’t you want to say it?” you press on.

“‘cause,” he insists yet again, swallowing the saliva that’s gathered in his mouth for a second time.

silence stretches between you. your warm slick dribbles down to his balls. it makes his heart race.

“fine, whatever. have it your way, i give up,” you say, clearly done with it.

you start to lift your hips but he stops you. makes you stay on top of him with the help of both big hands wrapping around your curves. the callouses that touch your skin make your chest tighten. you’re getting slippery between your legs.

“keep sittin’.” his eyelids are so heavy when he looks at you and sighs in defeat when you push back against his grip, not listening. you feel so good, it makes him physically ache. he can’t have you running off, it’ll ruin him.

“no, i don’t wanna,” you talk back, scrunching the bridge of your nose. you keep pulling away from him now; pushing at his chest and trying to lift yourself off his lap. all this disobedient squirming that you’re doing clearly hits a nerve within him.

“fine, fine, damn! i don’t wanna say i’m sorry ‘cause i hate that slutty lil’ skirt and how fucking short it is, okay?” he obliges at long last, relishing the way you go still. “your entire ass is out when you wear it, for fuck’s sake.”

you quirk a brow, astounded. “so?”

he blinks. “what d’you mean ‘so’?”

“what does it matter if you hate it? that doesn’t give you permission to be mean to me about it!”

“no, i—”

“last time i checked, i can wear whatever i want. so if i want my ass to be out, then it sure as hell will be.”

now he’s the one that’s baffled. “i mean, it’s jus’ my opinion… why should i have to apologize for having an opinion?”

some opinion.

insecurity is more like it.

“whatever… do you really hate it, though? the skirt?” you look down at the place where you connect; at the glistening little spot where your clit is pressing against his dark pubic hair, now that you’ve settled back down.

“y-yeah.” his stomach is clenched tight, the muscle lines there visible from how strained he is and how badly he’s trying to keep himself from fucking right into you. it’s a struggle for you both, the entire cockwarming situation, but it seems like he’s taking it way worse than you.

“aha. sure, buddy.” he doesn’t miss the way your eyebrows shoot up towards your hairline at his unconvincing answer. you’re clearly more interested in his treacherous body language than what he has to say.

“what,” he nearly growls out. he’s getting frustrated, and the fact that you aren’t giving him what he wants, not letting him cum, is definitely not helping either. “what is it?”

“oh, nothing,” you chirp playfully, giggling a little. “nothin’ at all.”

“why are there always gotta be games when i’m with you?” he glares. snaps his jaw into place. “just say what you wanna say, is it really that hard?”

“mm,” you bring a finger up to your lips as you pretend to ponder. and just as he gets hopeful that you’ll speak your mind, just as he’s nearly delirious with want, all he gets as an answer is you leaning in and gently flicking the tip of his nose as you mock the depth of his voice and say, “and what happens if ‘i don’t wanna say it’?”

before he can respond, you grin and continue, “what if all i wanna do is, oh, i dunno… wear my slutty little skirt, as you’ve called it, and prance around in it right in front of everyone…?”

he stares up at you at your taunt. you watch with a twisted sense of victory as his pupils grow large to the size of a cat’s whenever it finds itself in the dark.

heat rises up kiba’s neck; it makes his face turn so red at your provocative remarks that you’re positive it’d be hot all over if you were to touch it. but the blush does not happen because of embarrassment, like you’d initially thought at the start. no, no.

this is pure, jealous fury.

the lewd embrace that your soft cunt continues to provide around his cock tightens to an almost unbearable degree when he grabs you by the hips again all of a sudden, and holds you in a grip that’s so iron-like that it causes his knuckles to flash stark white because of it.

“what’re you, h-hey— n-no, fuck!” your legs squeeze around him as he slams into you with relentless force, then; with no warning whatsoever. it’s an action he’s rarely seen accomplishing without your approval first, but he doesn’t even think about seeking it out in that exact moment.

he doesn’t think you deserve it, really.

at least not when you act like a brat.

“fuck… this. you can wear that shitty skirt for as long as ya want, sweetheart,” he whispers, every breath laboured. “but lemme just make one thing clear; you won’t even be able to walk, much less sit in it after i’m done with that little whorish cunt of yours that you wanna flaunt around so bad.”

“oh, fu-fuck you!” you repeat with a squeal at the sudden intrusion; mouth popping open, eyes squeezing shut. your fingers twitch as you grab fistfuls of his hair and try to make him ease his ruthless pounding a bit.

he smirks. “you’re doin’ it right now.” fucker.

the squelches are so loud. the slapping of skin against skin stings you. the tears that threaten to spill over your waterline are hard to hide, now. it all makes your upper lip quiver.

and yet, it doesn’t sway him into mercy.

kiba doesn’t listen, nor does he care as he puts his hand on the back of your neck, tangles his fingers into your hair and presses you flush against his chest. ever since your panties had come sliding down your legs, currently clinging for dear life around one of your ankles, he’s turned completely brain-dead.

because no matter how many times you mewl and cry out now, all he does is grunt and grumble into the tender spot where your neck meets your shoulder. he simply doesn’t budge. his pounding has even gotten so ruthless that he’s got you gritting your teeth from how close you’re getting to climax and overstimulation.

“you think i’ll just stay completely still like a good boy while there’s a cute lil’ slut sitting on my cock?” his exhales are warm against your skin. arrogance drips off his tone as he kisses your cheek softly, “baby, who do you take me for?”

you’re both sweating like crazy by the time you start to comply and help him by wiggling your hips again. your walls are just so tight, so wet, and your hole keeps fluttering around his cock in a way that makes his eyes want to roll back into his skull. the fact that your tits are out and are being shoved right into his goddamn face as you sit on his lap and keep your arms tightly wrapped around his neck is pure heaven.

he nearly shivers when you drag your nails through his hair and let your knees sink deeper into the cushions of the sofa you’d shoved him onto long moments prior straddling him in pure frustration.

“i’m sorry,” you whimper through tears and quiet sniffles when the first heatwave of your orgasm rushes through you, shaking you to your fucking core. his thrusts have gotten jerky and sloppy, but he doesn’t stop. just keeps on pushing you through your high.

“m’sorry, too, sweetheart,” he heaves, pulling you in for a kiss that’s more spit and clashing of teeth than anything else. his forehead rests against your own and his eyes are soft. “sorry for being so mean and acting like a prick. i’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“i love you.” your eyelids flutter shut at the overwhelming sensation, the bliss, the fullness. “…god.”

“love ya too.” he chuckles. tries to focus on his movements even if the way you clench around him like a vice wipes his mind entirely clean. “and forget about what i said, yeah? who cares what you wear? i can fight if someone tries shit with you… i’ll knock out their fucking teeth if i have to.”

you grin, all dazed and crooked. “really? you’d fight for me?”

“mhmm,” he hums lazily, hiking your skirt up again as if he wants to prove a point. his gaze fixates on it as he watches how his cock pushes in and out of your drenched cunt, the ring of milky arousal gathering at the hilt of him. “you know, it kind of fits you well… a slutty lil’ skirt for a slutty lil’ pussy.”

all is forgiven with the quiet laugh you share then.

[xythlia]

𓏲 ࣪₊ warnings: toxic dynamics, mind games, possessiveness, jealousy, piv, use of clit/pussy/cunt, cervix fucking, mating press, choking, semi hate fucking (?), blood mention

feedback \ rbs are appreciated ♡

eep I hope I did unhinged asmo justice @jeschalynn

Asmo adores the fact that your love for him is double edged, expressed in a way that to an outside observer may not seem quite like love at all.

He doesn't want a different kind of love though, on the contrary he can't help but feed it, drowning you in displays of affection only to slyly shift his focus to another just to watch your teeth flash and your eyes narrow. To him, this is love. Every time he smells arousal dancing across your skin afterwards he can't help the yawning ache that opens inside, the one that calls to crack you apart and hold your heart in his hands and taste blood on your lips because after all isn't the point of love to consume?

And god does he want to consume you. You, so cute beneath him with your bruised, swollen lips and glassy eyes. With your mouth hung open he has a full display of those human canines, wondering if the pain of them piercing would be perfectly balanced with the pleasure of it coming from you. When you're so riled up you let him fill you to the brim with his cock, as much as he wants and he loves you for it.

But it's when you spurn him ever so slightly that has his cock throbbing, the sudden sharpness of your previously unfocused gaze as you purposely refrain from touching him.

"Oh, still feeling jealous are we?" He sneered, lips pressing against your cheeks with every turn of your head.

"If you want a kiss go ask your groupies," you murmur as your head tips back, tongue peeking out in a voiceless moan as his skilled fingers draw teasing circles around your clit.

It was funny, in a way only you could pull off, to still cling to jealous resentment with your legs on his shoulders while his balls slap against your ass. Asmo bit his lip to keep from giggling, that might piss you off a little too much and he didn't want you leaving. Especially not now. But it does little to hide the delighted smirk on his face.

He's loved that you love the same way he does from the moment he first observed it, you're the pool of water to his Narcissus.

"It's funny to you?" You bite back between gasps as he pushes your legs up towards your face, body braced above yours now. "You know how I feel but you still-"

Your voice trails off in a high pitched groan as he shifts the pace to slow but deep, cock nearly kissing your cervix with each movement. Asmo puts both hands against the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks and making your skin boil in white hot embarrassment as the squelching sound of your cunt fills the room.

"How do you feel, hmm?" He sing songs.

"Screwed up! You piss me off," your eyes are squeezed shut and you can barely force the words out against how good he feels, "your fans make you act crazy-"

In response every roll and push of his hips was skillful and the hand come to wrap around your throat and press on your carotid carried both tenderness and a warning. Through your fluttering eyelids you noticed his horns. Satisfaction, sticky and sick, welled up alongside your cresting orgasm making your thighs shake.

H fucks you like he's batshit crazy, eyes shining with something you don't have the capacity to identify right now, and pressed so close to you it's almost like you're one form. Calling him that always makes something crack inside him, and you stick your fingers inside the hornets nest every time.

Indents from your nails carve an angry red track around his forearm, but he's too focused on keeping that fucked out look etched on your face. Crazy, it's the only ugly word to fall from your lips and he knows you do it on purpose, knows you like what comes after and honestly so does he. Hearing your thin, strained whimpers doesn't make him loosen his grip on you.

That sharpness is back on your features.

"Don't get mad now," he purrs, shushing you.

The obscene noises of your slick cunt sucking him back in seem to grow louder and louder. Your eyes roll back as his pace finally becomes frantic, desperate to fill you up. "Besides, it sure doesn't sound like you're mad."

You squeak and slap his forearm which makes him relax his hold as you start sucking in air with broken hitches and blubbers of his name, for him to shut up, how much you love him, how much you want more.

He likes that you're the same, wired the same and with all the same buttons to push.

[searchingforgravity]

Graceland Experience - PART 5

Fandom: Elvis/Elvis (2022)

Prompt: The next stop you need to make is one to the library to find out if you have any chance of making your way back home. Then, you explore Elvis' room.

TW: Brief mention of sex, mention of sex toys and objects, implied smoking, profanity

Word Count: 2801

A/N: Sorry for the slow burn with this series guys, but it will be worth it!

"Hey, I'm sorry about last night. I just really thought you were a nutcase, Y'know?" Sonny laughs nervously before shoveling a plateful of food in his mouth.

Everyone at the table looks to the two of you. You, Sonny, Elvis, and Jerry all sit at the kitchen table. You are surprised that they let you sit to breakfast with them, but they've all seemed to accept the fact that you're not crazy. They still look at you with curiosity. You're the exciting new topic in the house. The girl with amnesia.

You absolutely hate it.

"Yeah, it's fine," you say quickly, focusing now on your plate of food, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

"I mean, you really had me goin' there," he laughs.

Annoyed, you pick at your food refusing to respond. There is an awkward beat as everyone turns back to their food.

"Thought you were just batshit cr-"

"Sonny! Fuck off," Elvis grumbles, not amused.

Your body flushes in embarrassment. Looking across the table to Elvis, he meets your gaze, his cheeks flushed with anger.

You quickly look away.

God, how you wished there was another girl in this house. Most of the time, it's just the boys.

"Right," Sonny snaps, clearly offended.

Silence again.

You look over at Jerry. It's so odd, he's just a teenager. You recall all of the photos you've seen of his as an older man, and it's surreal. You watch as he makes a joke to Elvis, trying to win his approval. Elvis chuckles. Jerry's eyes light up as he shoves a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

It's so surreal.

After another moment, you let your gaze wander around the room. You haven't really had the chance to see it since you've been here. The house is buzzing. It's so full of life. This is what you've dreamed of.

You can feel someone watching you.

Looking back to the table, Elvis is watching you intently, like he's trying to read your mind. When he catches your eye, he doesn't look away. Instead he gives you a curious look, lingering.

You clear your throat in thought. Should you say something?

"So, do fans line up outside your door all the time?" You ask.

Stupid question.

Everyone looks at you again. Everyone looks dumbstruck by your question, like you don't live in 1961.

"Are you kiddin' me?! Every day! They love Elvis, it's almost scary. Gosh you aren't a fan are you?" Jerry suddenly pipes up, teenage boy energy bursting.

Your face flushes.

"No! I am obviously, you're amaz-" you start, then stop.

Elvis gives a smug grin, crossing his arms.

"I mean-."

Oh God, stop talking.

Before anyone can comment further, Elvis speaks up, sparing you the spotlight.

"Yeah, I really appreciate all the love. I don't deserve it sometimes."

"Aw, c'mon E, sure you do! Hey, remember those two girls that mailed themselves to the house? That was crazy, man. Now they were batshit. But they were cute girls. You're so lucky, you can get all the tail you want. And you did get some action with one of 'em right? Or was it both?"

Well, there's that. Elvis' cheeks flush as he shoves Jerry by his shoulder.

"Jer, come on, there's a lady at the table."

Jerry glances over at you looking like a dog with his tail caught between his legs.

"Oh, right. Sorry ma'am."

You tell him it's okay as you try not to laugh.

---

"Hey, Elvis?" You ask, catching up with him after breakfast as Sonny and Jerry go outside to the stables, him following closely behind.

Elvis turns to you.

"Yeah, what's up, honey?"

You hesitate. It might be a risk.

"Do you remember asking me if there is anything I needed last night?"

"Yes, I remember."

Here goes nothing.

"I was actually wondering if I could get a ride to the library."

"The library? I don't see why not. If you want some books, you can write down which ones you want and I have a guy that goes out and gets things for me."

That won't exactly work. You don't want written evidence of you requesting time travel books.

"Well, I actually wanted to go myself."

He gives you a sideways glance.

"Are you sure that would be a good idea? Don't you need some rest for your memory?"

"I think it might be good if I go out. Maybe it could help jog a few things in my mind."

Good thinking.

"Hm, maybe you're right. It seems you got some memory back. At least I know you're a fan," he teases, winking at you.

Your cheeks burn as you look to the ground. There's a brief awkward silence.

He clears his throat before continuing.

"Well I can't go with ya, but I'll tell Sonny to give you a ride. How does this afternoon sound?"

"That sounds amazing. Thank you."

---

Getting into the car with Sonny, you're suddenly nervous. You are about to go out in public in 1961. You still partially believe you are in some crazy dream. You look down at your outfit, making sure you look the part, and you do. You are wearing a simple pink shift dress. You aren't usually one to wear a ton of dresses, but you certainly can't wear your usual clothing now. And you have to admit to yourself that you are starting to enjoy wearing these dresses. Elvis had some ordered to the house once he realized you might be at Graceland for more than a few days.

"Hey, uh, I know I said it already, but I am sorry for acting that way last night. Just been high strung the past few days, I guess," Sonny says awkwardly as he starts the car.

"It's okay. I understand, I don't blame you, really. No one knows me here," you relent, looking out the window.

"Yeah. You don't seem too bad, though. It's been nice I guess having something to focus on. It was startin' to get boring around here. Elvis hates boring," he laughs, the southern drawl peeping out of his voice.

You hadn't noticed it before.

You aren't sure how you feel about Sonny taking you to the library, you aren't sure if you like him yet, but he was your only option and you had to take the opportunity.

Sonny turns the car, heading for the back of the house, to your surprise. The front entrance leaving your line of view.

"I thought we were going out the front way."

At this, Sonny gives a genuine laugh.

"No, honey, we almost never use the front entrance. Do you know how many people are out there? Hundreds. We wouldn't get to the library before it closes."

You turn your body as you try to look and see if you can get a glimpse of the fans out front, but it's too late, the entrance is already out of sight.

---

When you get inside the library, it's quiet. There are a few people wandering around, but other than that it's empty. It's not so different from a modern library, except there are no computers. Only books. It's insane to see. Everyone you see are either in dresses or the men in slacks. Some men wearing hats. You see an older man with a hat covering his face as he nods in an out of sleep on a chair in the corner of the non-fiction section. It's all so different and yet, somehow not.

You were preparing for Sonny to come in with you, which would be a challenge to hide what you're getting from him, but he said he'd stay in the car if you wouldn't take too long.

You make your way to the fiction section as you start your search. you hope they have something here that can help you. As you look through the limited selection, you're about to give up when you see A Sound of Thunder by Ray Bradbury. You remember seeing this book while you were writing a paper about the author in high school. You pluck it out of its place and turn it to the back cover, skimming over the words.

Ah, yes. A man who travels back in time and discovers even small actions have big consequences. You make a mental note of that. You decide to pick out a random book as well in case anyone asks you what you got. Looking for a romance, you see a booked called Loyal and All by Mary Burchell. After taking a quick skim of the back, it looks to be up your alley.

You're about to head to the check out when one more catches your eye. A pebble in the sky. Hm. You pick it up and read the back. A man is accidentally sent to the future. Similar to your situation, only you went to the past. This could give some insight.

You decide to pick that one as well as you head to the front. A gentle looking older woman greets you.

"Hello, dear. Did you find what you were looking for today?" She asks pleasantly.

You smile.

"Yes, thank you. Just these three please," you say in return, placing the books on the table.

She glances at them.

"Ah, time travel. I love hearing those stories. I wonder if it will ever come to be one day. I would like to go back and see Louis Armstrong in his prime. I love that man's voice."

You laugh to yourself. That's what you thought about Elvis about a week ago. Now you don't know what to think.

"I'll need to see your library card, dear."

Shit. A library card.

"Oh, I don't have one, I just moved here recently," you say a little too quickly.

She doesn't seem to take note of it.

"Not a problem! I'll just have you fill out this paper and you can take these home with you today."

A paper. Then you think of the butterfly effect. Will something as small as filling out a paper change the course of history? You're not sure. But you need these books.

"Oh, you know what, that's alright. I'll just put them back. I might not be staying for too long, it's a little up in the air at the moment," you respond trying not to sound nervous.

"Oh, alright, if you're sure."

You assure her that you are as you head over to the shelves.

You can't leave without these books, but how are you going to get past the counter without her seeing you? You look around for a distraction and it isn't long before you find one. There's a kid's section with two children about the ago of three running around playing. Setting the books down on a shelf near the exit, you go back up to the check out desk.

"Hi, I'm so sorry, but I think I just saw a child get sick in the children's section. I saw him running around with a friend."

At this, she sighs.

"Sometimes I wonder if the parents watch their children at all while they're here. Thanks, dear," she says before leaving the desk and walking towards the far section of the library.

Perfect.

You're about to run out when you see complimentary bags on a table near the door. You snag one before shoving the books in the bag and exiting the way you came.

You huff as you get in the passenger seat of the car.

"That was a fast exit, what did you steal 'em?" Sonny laughs as he pulls out, turning out of the lot.

You laugh nervously.

"A kid got sick," you lie as you glance down in the bag.

Sonny makes a sound of disgust as he pulls a cigarette out of his breast pocket before lighting it.

"That's why I don't like libraries."

---

Good, you've got the books, now you just need to do one more thing before you can relax.

Get into Elvis' room. That might not be too difficult seeing as he's still rehearsing for the upcoming film. After dinner, while everyone heads downstairs, you say that you are going to read for a while in the living room.

As soon as you hear them moving around downstairs, you spring into action. Climbing the stairs two at a time, you hurry until you come to a halt at his door, firmly closed.

You take a deep breath, then a second one. You listen for a moment to make sure no one is upstairs. There is complete silence. Your hand shakes as you bring it to the door knob. You need to be quick about this. You turn it and it opens with ease.

Looking inside, you are awestruck. It's a spitting image of the pictures you've seen. You can't believe you're actually in here. A room that not even president's can enter in your own time. It feels magical. You can smell the scent of Elvis all around you. It's intoxicating. You feel invasive, like you shouldn't be in here. But you need to make sure.

First walking to the closet, you open it gently as to not make any noise. You crouch down and look to see if there are any hiding spots. You see a box.

Opening it hastily, it takes you a moment to realize what exactly you're looking it, then it dawns on you.

Pictures of his mom. other small trinket items that you assume belong to his mother.

You gently shut the box and put it back where it belongs. Okay, time to look somewhere else. You check briefly to make sure there are no more hiding places in the closet before getting off the floor and closing the door. Looking around, you spot Elvis' dresser. Quietly walking over to it, You decide to start at the top as you open the first one. When you open the top drawer, you see a polaroid camera. Hm. Then you see handcuffs? Polaroids? For the second time, it takes you a moment to realize what exactly you're looking at.

"Oh,"You gasp as you see what, or rather who, is on the polaroids, quickly shutting the drawer.

Multiple different women, and one or two of him. Nude. Your face flushes all the way to your ears in embarrassment. You've heard stories of him liking that kind of thing, but you never thought you'd actually see it. All the sudden, you hear something.

"One second man, I gotta piss," Elvis calls down to someone as he climbs the steps to his room.

Oh no.

Your heart leaps in your chest as your eyes go wide. Oh God, what are you going to do? You look around and see his closet. It's your only option right now. You run over and gently open it before closing it on yourself, blanketed in complete darkness. You close the closet just in time as you hear the door to his bedroom open.

You hear him sigh as he shuts the door behind him. All the sudden, he stops walking. You can't breathe. What if he opens the closet door to grab something?

"What in the hell?" he mutters, and you can hear him walk away from you and go to his dresser drawer.

That's when you remember. You didn't shut it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You hear him open the drawer more, and look around in it. You wish you could tell what he was thinking. He is silent for a long moment before you hear the drawer close again and he makes his way to the bathroom. He shuts the door. Thank God.

You hear him start using the toilet and think this is your best shot at leaving. Opening the closet as softly as you can, you slip out before shutting it just as slow. Tip-toeing across the floor as gently as you can manage, you finally reach the door and grab the knob. Then you hear him starting to wash his hands. Eyes widening, you open the door.

You sigh silently as you quietly shut the door behind you. You walk over to the staircase just in time for him to open the door, leaving his room.

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were up here. Thought you were readin' in the living room," Elvis remarks as he walks in your direction.

"I was, but I needed to use the bathroom," you lie, pointing in the direction of the room you've been staying in.

"Oh, yeah, me too," Elvis chuckles, but the humor doesn't fully reach his eyes.

Whether that's because he's suspicious of you or not, you don't know. What you do know is, that was too close of a call.

Way too close.

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JUDE BELLINGHAM'S IDEAL TYPE

Team: Real Madrid

What is his ideal type?

Two of swords, the devil, the sun, ten of swords reversed, the fool reversed, queen of wands reversed, the moon reversed, seven of swords, five of wands

His ideal type is someone who doesn't question him or is blinded or deceived by his antics, quiet literally someone that can see through him. Still, for him to be able to deceive and trick someone with a strong personality seems exciting, and attracts him. His ideal type is someone who is active, who might turn a blind eye when necessary in front of his actions. Someone who has their life figured out and will not hang on his shoulder dependingly. He wants someone who is equally as reckless as him, with a bit of an attitude. He doesn't care about smartness as long as the person con offer him something that he deems worth of keeping and nurturing. His ideal type is basically someone who will be his confidant, who can keep a secret and also; put up a fight. He likes a fun person, someone who isn't too serious, who doesn't bring him down with them or ties him down. A good outcast gets him riled up, but not to be sene on public with.

This is the type of someone who isn't looking for a relationship, exactly.

What personalities does he feel more attracted to?

Two of wands, queen of swords, king of wands, king of swords, the star reversed, high priestess, eight of cups reversed, two of cups reversed

Personality wise he feels attracted to go-getters, those people who have a lot of conversation and you never get bored with. A good old impulsive person, but in the right times if you know what I mean. This is someone who can hold themlsves back and they have auto-conteol. This shuffle makes me think of those people who seem really casual but then are batshit crazy. For sure it's mysterious, those who make you chase them. He likes personalities that make him work for it, to get to know more about them. He likes personalities who can detach fairly well from the world, without demanding much from him.

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