#he said he liked my fun fact about the screams though so at least I got that

[saucy-mesothelioma]

There are fewer things more painful than excitedly showing someone something you absolutely love and them just being like "Yeah that was cool" and that's IT.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, noncon, size/strength difference

gn reader

Thinking about breaking things off with your fuck friend 'cause you feel he's been catching feelings you have no intention of pitching...

“Why.” He asked, and the cross you’d made on your fingers in a wish to avoid the entire conversation untangled with a sigh.

“Please, don’t act dumb.” You groaned, exasperated and slightly irked. “You know why….” 

“No. Tell me.” He argued, and you sighed again in regret of your own common decency – wishing you’d taken the entire break-off over text instead, or at the very least taken the time to think about what you would say or do if and when he got this way. 

“You...”

You hesitated, taking a second to decide whether or not you really ought to voice it out loud – not because you had any doubts of it being true – but because the man in front of you was still very much a large brawny beefcake with temper issues no matter your sneaking suspicion that he saw you as something more than just a fuck friend.

“You’re getting too...” You continued, still scrambling for better words. Coming up short. “Clingy.”

He paused, his expression going from searching to a mix of offended and scrutinous.

“Clingy?” He repeated, forced disbelief a present factor in his tone. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who clings to me- screaming my name- begging me to cum inside you and-”

You cut his rant off with yet another sigh accompanied by a shake of your head. “That’s not what I mean by clingy. I’m sorry, I should have said emotional, and your comment just proved that.”

You folded your arms across your chest, watching him reel.

“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. We’re done.” 

You left him on the sofa to go put your shoes back on – admonishing yourself for coming inside in the first place when you could have just as quickly done this on the doorstep and walked away.

“You're not going anywhere until we talk this through.” He followed, his stronger hand latching onto your upper arm in a grip that was unnecessarily harsh.

You didn’t really mind, though – it was his lack of charm that had charmed you to begin with – you only wished he’d remained that same savage he was and not gone all lovey-dovey soft on you.

“There's nothing to discuss.” You felt as though you were repeating yourself, getting more annoyed by the fact. “It was fun; now it isn't.” You underlined, looking back into his eyes, cringing when seeing the gloss of something that you really hoped wouldn’t amount to tears while you were still there.

“I'm gonna need more than that.” He said, the grip on your arm still kept firm with no inclination of letting up.

You didn’t really want things to get more awkward by asking him to let you go – feeling as though maintaining the position of strength was important so he not mistake your resolution.

He had a nasty habit of never taking you seriously.

“You’re being childish.” You stated.

“Childish?!”

His grip tightened with his outburst, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have your heart jump to your throat.

"Let go of me." Your voice had significantly diminished.

"You think you can tease me like this and then tell me to piss off?” He seethed, your arm aching in the bruising grip he had on it as he pulled you close until your face was an inch from his. “Think again."

Your breath thinned under his glare, and you felt nearly too stiff to do anything except stare back up at him in wait.

“Calm down.” You tried, but it seemed choice words were too little too late to save you.

“I am calm.” He hissed back into your face before pulling you back to the sofa.

Throwing you down on your back – you didn’t even have the time to gasp before he was on top of you.

“Get off me-” You whined, your hands shooting forth – trying with all your might to heave him off, but ultimately amounting to nothing more than a slight annoyance to the much larger man on top.

“It's all about sex with you, right? You want to have fun, right?” He said in a craze, and you cringed while he leaned down to graze your chest with chin-stubble and lips, whispering at your peachfuzz until goosebumps rose. “So let's have some fun.”

“Stop it – I said I don't want to anymore – I’m being serious.” You tried, once again – appealing to his reason.

But it would seem he was beyond reason…

“Oh? You're being serious?” He mocked with a sneer and a laugh. “You don't look it. If you want me to stop so badly, then stop me. Come on~ try a little harder. Show me how serious you are.”

You’re not sure why you took him up on the challenge, as you’d long known of your differences in build – how you posed as much of a threat as a bug in a mason jar...

But even a bug will try to escape still after the lid has been sealed.

“Come on~ you're not even trying~” He grossly crooned, smiling at your pitiful attempt at twisting him off with the useless help of your silly hands – how your much smaller body writhed beneath his weight and tried wriggling free.

Laughing dryly, he took your hands by the wrists and pinned them to the cushion beneath you. Sagging over you, his breath fanned your lips.

“What was I to you, huh?” He asked in a murmur, his face blank but his eyes swirling. “Just a toy?”

You were afraid to breathe, only keeping your gaze terror-wide of what he might do – still grasping to fathom how he’d even felt possessed enough to do this much – confused as to how you’d missed the signs while having not a single clue what more he was capable of.

“Guess now you're my toy, huh...” He muttered coldly.

And you just couldn’t help the whimper that it tore from you – finally understanding exactly what position you were in.

The disorienting knowing of what was soon to happen dawned on you mercilessly – and you completely broke under the hefty weight it had. 

“Oh? You’ gonna cry now?” He scoffed before hissing. “That's cute, seeing as I’m the one who’s had his heart stepped on.”

“S-stop it, get off me-” You cried, whole body shaking where you squirmed to no use nor end.

“Not so cold-hearted now, are yah, fuckin' bitch?” Was all he had to say while leaning into where thick streams of tears rapidly ran down your cheeks in stingy streaks. “You scared?” He whispered in licks at your ear. “Gonna start begging, hm?”

You only shook – eyes squeezed tightly to a close.

“Nah…” His tone scraped, similar to how the shaven stubble on his chin scratched lightly against your neck as he started placing small kisses there despite your whines. “'Cause you want this too. I know you do.” He insisted. “You're just scared I'll break your little heart at some point.”

You’re breath hitched as his hands parted with its twin – leaving it to keep your wrists pinned by itself as the other one traveled down between your bodies to undo your zipper.

You wanted to say something, but you were too scared to – listening to him and his lovesick speech – full of so many things you feared could trigger much sicker things.

“But I promise you that no one’s heart is gonna break here.” He vowed, still with his lips pressed wetly against your throat. “Not yours or mine.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Shinso, Kirishima

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo

HQ – Kageyama, Kuro, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins

BLLK – Reo, Isagi

AOT – Eren

[changetyre]

Lando is secretly dating a girl he knew from high school, and she meets Daniel Ricciardo at one point, Lando brings y/n to a race very discreetly and there is some jealousy with Daniel and it ends up with a quickie in his motor room, and lastly their relationship is exposed in some way

Please☺️

You're mine and it's time to let them know II Lando Norris x Reader ⓈⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: Lando has loved nothing more than to have you all to himself for so long but it only takes Daniel Ricciardo to make sure the world hears you scream you're his.

WARNINGS: **18+**

A/N: I switched the request a little I hope you don't mind It just sort of worked better in my mind like this ;)

"You ready darling?" Lando walked into your shared bedroom after the last-minute business call he had to take. "Woah." He bit his lip eying you up and down.

"No baby...I know that look we're already running late." You couldn't hold back the smirk at the way you saw your boyfriend looking at you knowing that look would only lead to another and you'd both end up wrapped up in the sheets soon after.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about." Lando feigned innocence although he walked towards you wrapping his hands around your waist loving the way you felt in his arms especially when you looked like this.

"Lando." You said his name in a warning tone as you finished putting your earrings in.

"It's times like this I hate that we're a secret...how am I supposed to keep my hands off you tonight?" Lando pouted, his usual child-like behavior showing.

"Well you've done for 6 years I'm sure you'll manage another night." You smiled grabbing your boyfriend's hand before guiding him out.

"At least let me kiss you." Lando stopped and pulled you back you as you were about to open the front door.

"I just put lip gloss on." You pouted this time.

Lando obviously didn't find a problem with this as he happily took your pout as an invitation to close the space between you both and kiss you a little more intensely than you'd thought he meant.

By the time he pulled away, Lando knew he had left you in a daze. "Lan-" your breath skipped as you saw the lip gloss around your boyfriend's lips.

"That should do for a few hours," Lando smirked as he took his fingers wiping the gloss that had spread around your lips and proceeded to use the back of his sleeve to wipe the excess around his own lips before exciting through the front door.

________

You arrived on separate cars not being new to the hundreds of cameras that would be waiting at the entrance to the gala. After so many years of hiding their relationship, everything was rehearsed when they were in public.

It was fun, you thought almost like your own Hannah Montana movie. People knew who you were, completely aware to your ties with Lando from being classmates in high school to working together in the same industry now.

That's at least as much as the public knew. They weren't familiar with the longer version of the story where Lando and you had actually been more than classmates in high school and were in fact in a long relationship and had mutually decided to work in the same industry to stay together.

Lando of course had always dreamt of being a driver and wanting to stay close to him but also sharing a passion for communication you'd been offered a job as communication manager for McLaren allowing you to stay close, but not close enough for people to suspect there was more.

So thankfully it also wasn't odd for you to appear at the F1 gala as you had been invited ever since you'd started working with McLaren.

What was unexpected though was the fact that a certain someone would take the opportunity to make a move now that he wasn't going to be in the team anymore.

"You look beautiful." Daniel walked to you a drink in hand before he took another one from a passing waiter handing out glasses of champagne.

"Thank you, Dani, you clean up well too." Daniel handed you the new drink as you chose to reply kindly not a stranger to men trying to hit on you but another driver was certainly new territory.

"You know when we were working I was certain you had to be seeing someone but coming to the gala with a dress as gorgeous as this without someone by your side...that is a surprise." Daniel was a lot more intense than you'd expected making you choke on your drink.

"Uhmm...actually-" You were interrupted before you could come up with something.

"y/n come dance with me." Lando walked up to you placing his hand low on your back which took you completely by surprise.

"I was actually hoping to dance with her myself-" Daniel laughed with Lando except Lando didn't seem to find the humor.

"Hmm was always faster wasn't I?" You gasped at the insinuation and watched Dani's smile drop but before you could say anything else Lando had taken your hand and was taking you somewhere.

"Lando!" You shouted after your boyfriend who didn't seem like would stop until he got to his destination.

Lando didn't stop until you were both in a secluded hallway.

"Lando what the fuck wa-" But before you could say anything else Lando had pulled you in holding your waist tightly into him and kissing you passionately.

"You're mine okay? I'm tired of hiding it." He whispered and you could feel his breath tickle your lips as you tried to process what was happening.

"Lan where did this come from?" You weren't exactly opposed to the idea of finally going public but you certainly didn't think today would be the day.

"I just...I'm having a hard time keeping my hands off you in this dress." Lando smirked repeating his words from a few hours earlier before he took your hand once more pulling you into the men's bathroom and locking the door after him.

"Lando what has gotten into you!" Your smile deceived you as Lando picked you up and sat you on the bathroom counter.

"Can't a man just show his girlfriend how much he fucking loves her?" Lando smirked as he kneeled in front of you and wasted no time in attacking the space between your legs.

"Ahh-" You were breathless in seconds as Lando licked at your clothed clit for a few seconds before shoving your panties aside and sucking you directly.

"Let me see you baby-" Lando seperated his lips from you for a few seconds and you knew exactly what he meant.

You shimmied the straps of your dress off your shoulders letting Lando see your bare chest as his hand came up to cup your left boob.

"Lando please fuck me-" you begged your boyfriend as you felt yourself getting close.

"Only because we need to be quick pretty girl." Lando obliged coming up to kiss you and letting you taste yourself on his lips as he aligned himself with you.

"Mhm-" you moaned into your boyfriends lips as he pushed into you starting to set a pace immediately.

"How does that feel baby?" Lando asked.

"Mm so- so ahh-so good Lando-" You were struggling to formulate words with how good he could make you feel.

"That's it darling, let everyone hear who you're screaming for." Lando grunted.

"AHH LAN!" You weren't able to contain your volume as Lando quickened his pace without previous warning but something told you he intended for this to happen.

"Who's making you cum baby?" Lando asked as he could feel you start to clench around him.

"Ah-Ah- you- you Lan-only you-" You moaned not even sure how loud you were being but quite frankly you didn't care.

"Fuck...that's it." Lando was satisfied enough as he slowed his pace after fucking you through your orgasm and finishing himself. "That's it, darling." He kissed you softly, a clear contrast to the way he'd just fucked you seconds before.

"Everyone's gonna know now Lan-" you commented as you pulled the straps back over your shoulder and Lan cleaned you up gently.

"That was the idea yes-" Lando smirked proudly planting a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling your dress down and patting it down for you.

"Was the idea everyone or Dani?" You asked laughing to yourself knowing how childish your boyfriend could be.

"Hmm let's say one of those was an added bonus" He winked as he watched you fix your hair and tried to clean yourself up a bit.

"You're insane." You turned to face your boyfriend.

"And you still said yes." He smiled before kissing you once more, proudly wrapping his arm around your waist and enjoying the rest of the night unashamedly with you by his side.

A/N: This is the first time I do a twitter au on Tumblr but don't expect them frequently cause I hate doing them I just thought it went well with this story ;)

[phas3d]

Celebrity Crush Opposite || Slytherin Boys

type :: angst

tw/cw :: body image, insecurities

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: you freak out over your celebrity crush only for him to look completely opposite from them. this is a different version of THIS post i made a long time ago, sorry it's so late! - I love this idea so much omggg the angst?? the hurt?? insecurities??? GIVE IT TO MEEEE - 🐍 :: masterlist!

DRACO MALFOY (enemies)

He's always mocked you for stupid reasons, like how you write your "a"s or how you hold your spoon

Once again, he was making his way to your typical spot at lunch to make fun of you

As he scanned your table, searching for something to mock you form, he made contact with a photocard in your hands

"GOD I WANNA GET HIM PREGNANTTTTT!!!" You shouted loudly as you sobbed into your hands

Your friends, oddly enough, nodded along with you and respected your comment

Draco thought it was outlandish but he shrugged it off, his mind was too busy staring into the soulless piece of paper you were holding

One thing about Draco is that he's always been popular with girls in school, even if they thought he was ugly, he knew they would find him cute or at least his asshole personality would let people think they could "fix him"

But for some reason, this simple piece of paper put a knot in his throat as he felt a pang of insecurity strike in him

Surprisingly, he broke his streak of daily mocking as he sat at his table, disappointed and hurt

What hurt even hurt was the fact that you didn't even notice that he didn't mock you today

How could you not tell he's flirting with you!!! (he literally spat in your food one time and call you a fat pig)

As he went to bed that night, he stared at the ceiling, getting flashbacks of the photocard like he was a war veteran

The cute Asian man with dark hair was drastically different from Draco in every way

Race, hair color, eye color, body shape, everything!

He couldn't help but feel insecure in himself, after all you're one of his longest ever crushes

Genuinely thinks of dying his hair black until Lorenzo and Blaise beg him not to

TOM RIDDLE (friends)

You were one of the only people to understand Tom and his weird antics making you two become friends

In return for accepting his weird habits, he was forced to deal with yours whether he likes it or not

He skipped one of his classes in order to stay behind and work with Professor Slughorn on a new potion they were learning

You gave him your notes from class, a very common thing between you two except normally Tom was the one sharing notes

As he looked at your shit handwriting, he started to see a theme in it

All over your notebook were drawings of some random actor?

Tom doesn't know pop culture very well so he asked you who it was in your books

"Who??? WHO??!? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW MICHEAL B. JORDAN???" You said as your jaw hit the floor "HE'S THE FINEST MAN ON EARTH?!?!?!"

"Never heard of him."

"You're gonna hear me scream his name once I get my rose toy"

Tom has never been a big fan of anything popular since he strives to be different from everyone in every possible way

But for some reason, this interest of your in Micheal B. Jordan made him want to research him further

When you left, Tom instantly started to research Micheal B. Jordan until 3 A.M

For some reason, Tom felt upset? (He's jealous but doesn't even know he likes you)

He feels possessive, as if he should steal your notebook and rip out all your drawings of him and burn them

Actually... he might do that,

But, he can't help but compare himself to Micheal

In his head, he thinks it's because you said he the most handsome man ever,

But anyone with common sense could tell it was from him liking you

Tom doesn't change himself after this news though, he's not a pussy and knows he's fine already

But, he does hope that one day you can call him the finest man on Earth

MATTHEO RIDDLE (classmates)

Although he didn't know much about you, he's always wanted to

So when he heard you shout at the top of your lungs when you saw something on your phone, he was quickly interested

He's tried to get close to you multiple times by befriending your friends, going to your usual spots, and more

But for some reason, you two couldn't line up

So he decides to just walk up to you and ask you straight up what you're looking at and spark a converstation

He walks towards you as you spam your fist against the table

You begin to make gorilla sounds and bang your chest, "OO OO AHH AHHH OOOO AHHH!!!!!"

(inspo by my queen brittany broski)

Andddd he begins to take a step away.... He can't just walk back to his desk now since it will be awkward

So he continues to walk past you, slightly scared and weirded out by your behavior

He looks at your phone only to see a random singer with dark skin and locs

Mattheo didn't even need to check himself to know that he had no similarities to the celebretry that you love so much

And instantly, he's bummed to an extreme level

He's so used to being every girls ideal type that he can't stand the thought of the one girl that he ACTUALLY likes have the complete opposite taste of who he is

But that doesn't matter to him too much, since he's fully confident that he can get you to like him with some time

He's the only guy who I think would understand that it's just a celebrity crush and that it's not the end of the world

Because he knows he's hot

THEODORE NOTT (classmates)

Although he's a massive fuck boy, he still gets crushes every now and then, and you were his biggest crush yet

He's tried to flirt with you in the past, but he either stumbled his words or you just didn't understand what he was implying

So when he heard you across the room freaking out over some random actor, he was quick to run over and look

He got up so fast, doing his best to act natural as he pasts by your table

"For my birthday I want him to be oiled up with a bow on top"

Your crude humor was funny to him, he loved that you were unserious

As he passes by, he sees an older man with a fully grown beard and some wrinkles

He wouldn't be surprised if the man had children of his own that could ever be your own age

Although his face doesn't express much emotion, he couldn't hide how his eyes widened at that

He goes to his dorm and researches him to no end, finding out everything possible about the man only to get confused as to why you like him so much

It was a fully grown man with a wife and two kids, what appeal did he have?

Theodore is so lost and confused, he's not sure how to make you like him

He was hoping it would be Harry Styles, Chris Hemsworth, fuck it even Sam Smith - Because at least they were younger and looked attractive

But this was a fully grown man...

Theo feels so sad, thinking that he has no chance with you and sulks for the rest of the day

But his friends comfort him, reassuring him that he still has a chance with you since Theo could grow to be an old man with you

And that statement did make him blush a lil heehee

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (best friends)

Freaking out over hot people was something that he was used to girls in your grade doing

He never understood why people liked those different guys so much, but he didn't care since he basically looked like all of those celebrities in some way

But when he heard you playing the same edit audio over and over again, he needed to know who it was

And as he looked, he saw some random tan buff dude with a mysterious aura to him

You were basically drooling all over your phone

"I wanna stuff my face inbetween his man titties and suckle it like a starving baby"

Lorezno's brain was instantly able to picture that exact sentence, and he didn't like that at all

On instinct he cringes at your statement but laughs it off

As the day ends, he starts to overthink and compare himself to the guy you like so much

He was so much buffer, had a different skin ton, and even had a different hair color

Lorenzo has always been a bit insecure about his body since he was pretty lanky and lean which was the opposite of his friend group of Mattheo and Theo

He looks in the mirror whilst holding up a photo of of the random guy you like so much, picking himself apart

Once he finds out everything he needs to change, he breaks down first. but then gets to work

Pushing himself to fit your perfect type just so he can even have a sliver of a chance of being with you

thank you for reading ! 🐍 :: masterlist!

[norrizzandpia]

Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean. (LN4)

Summary: Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

Warnings: language, mentions of grinding

Note: this is very very little women coded but nobody is related. You’ll see. Once again, this is a sad ending, but a happy one will be up soon. I just wanted to get something out to you guys because it’s been so long since i posted and im finally feeling up to returning to you all. Genuinely, i feel like this isn’t my greatest greatest work, nothing quite worthy of a comeback fic, but i hope that doesn’t deter you all <3 ill be back with some of my regular abilities soon just a bit rusty so forgive me lol

Y/n had never had a boyfriend. There were failed talking stages and men who stole longer-than-preferred glances at her, but there was never an official, labeled and definite boyfriend. A part of her life which her friends always teased her for, a part of her life which she was secretly so deeply insecure about. Throughout her twenty-two years spent on Earth, she had been told that she was intimidating, that she was “too pretty” to be approached, but, as high school passed and she graduated college without anyone putting in effort, the passing thoughts of “something is wrong with me” took hold. Maybe it was the way she dressed, or the fact she liked musicals; maybe it was the friends she hung out with, or the jokes she made; maybe it was her looks, or her smile; maybe her laugh was obnoxious, or she didn’t seem like girlfriend material. She could never escape the feeling that she was inadequate, that somehow, over the years, she had molded herself into a person that no one else would stick around for romantically. Somehow, she wound up unloveable.

Lando, in the beginning, was a maybe. Becoming friends with him was, if you asked her, one of the scariest things she had ever embarked on in her life. Famous, rich, and successful Lando Norris loved her company, even adding in a few questionable and suggestive comments in the midst of it all. Her friends, however relentless, had continuously talked about the possibility of Lando liking her, but she shut it down every time. With the way she had forced her brain to be wired, Lando would never see her as more than a friend. The comments about how beautiful he thought she was, though, she could never explain.

“Are you going to answer me or what?” Y/n’s eyes focused back to the man in her mind, sitting before her at his kitchen table and staring at her as if she had died and came back to life.

She leaned her body against the counter, “Yeah, sorry. What’d you say?”

He scoffed and laughed all at once, “You didn’t hear anything I just said? Are you okay?”

His eyes flitting over her face made her chuckle and shake her head, “Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about the upcoming projects I have for work.”

He nodded, though his slightly furrowed eyebrows portrayed confusion, “Okay… Well, Max invited us to go out tonight. There’s a new club a few blocks down that he got on the VIP list for. You in?”

Deciding that maybe going out would somehow remedy the strong belief that no man wanted her, Y/n nodded.

—

“Can you hear me?!” Lando screamed into Max’s ear. His best friend looked at him, a drink in both their hands, and laughed.

“Yes, I can hear you, dumbass! When you yell right in my eardrum, it’s hard not to! What’s up?”

Lando was hesitant before leaning in once more, his tone lowered an octave, “Who is that dancing with Y/n?”

Max followed Lando’s eyeline, finding his good friend grinding up against a man he couldn’t even recognize.

He shook his head, “I don’t know. At least, she’s having fun!” His laughter at his comment died down when he turned his head to see Lando pouting.

Max scoffed, “Mate, you can’t be upset with her venturing out. She doesn’t even know you think of her that way!”

Lando shook his head, “I don’t see her that way.”

Max shoved his shoulder, “All I hear is denial, denial, and fucking denial. When you wake up one morning and find out you loved her all along, don’t come crying to me when you realize you’re too late because she’s with someone else.”

Lando laughed it off, though the pit in his stomach made him want to puke up the alcohol he had consumed for the night. Maybe he had just had one too many, he told himself.

Yeah, it was the alcohol consumption.

Max’s piercing gaze leveled with Lando’s, liquor coursing through the Brit’s veins as he said lowly, “I’m sick and tired of that bullshit.”

Lando rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Max nodded feverishly, “Yes, you do! You know I can’t fucking stand the way you shun your feelings for her! I know it’s probably a dick move on my part to tell you how you feel, but if you keep dancing around her, you’re gonna lose her. I don’t want to see that for you.”

Lando shook his head briefly, coolness flowing from him as if Max’s words didn’t strike panic within his blood, “I’m not going to lose her, Max. I think alcohol makes you overdramatic.”

Max groaned and stomped away, liquid sloshing out of his glass as he retreated into the crowd. Lando’s eyes were left to fall back on his Y/n. The man’s hands were on her hips, swaying hers against his as he kissed her neck. He hated the sight and he didn’t know why.

Truthfully, he did know why.

—

“If a guy visits you at work with your favorite coffee order, does that mean he’s interested in you?” Y/n waltzed into the sunlit living room of Max’s apartment, Lando sprawled out on the couch as Max scrolled through his phone on a big chair in the corner.

“Uh, yes.” Max replied quickly, before Lando had the opportunity of selfishly saying no.

Holding her phone in one hand and the other balled in a fist, Y/n blurted, “Are you sure?”

Max pulled himself from his slouched position, looking at her intently and not daring to see the way Lando was eyeing him. He could feel the fiery gaze on his shoulder, “No man is going out of his way to buy you your favorite coffee and come see you at a corporate office for .2 seconds. Trust me, Y/n, the man likes you.”

She nodded her head side to side, “Mmm, maybe.”

”He’s right.” Lando murmured, a heavy heart as he watched her gaze snap to his, as if his thoughts on the subject convinced her more of what was right in front of her.

Max side-glanced him, a war in his head as he tried to decipher Lando and whatever he was trying to accomplish.

“You think?” She whispered, looking down at her phone when it buzzed. A blush across her cheeks made Lando’s heart squeeze.

Did she smile that way when he texted her?

Lando cleared his throat, “What’s this guy’s name? Is this the same guy you were dancing with at the club?”

She nodded, “Yeah, it is. His name is Chris.”

“Last name?” He continued, listening intently for the information.

Y/n laughed, “What? Are you going to Instagram-stalk him or something?”

Yes.

”No. Just curious.” He smiled lightly. All the while, Max was rolling his eyes.

”Chris Greenberg.” She smiled back, a moment between the two where Lando seemingly couldn’t tear his eyes off the grin displayed in front of him.

He sat back, “Alright, most generic name I’ve ever heard, but okay.”

She shook her head at Lando, the smile still on her face as she plopped on the couch beside him.

His arm instinctively draped around her shoulders, his hand toying with the ruffled fabric of her shirt. Lando tried not to fall into the mess of her in his mind yet the soft skin under his fingertips made his mind get away from him. He didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want the morning where he woke up and he found out he was in love with his best friend to come.

But, he also couldn’t bear the thought of Chris touching her in the way he does. He willed himself not to think about Chris seeing her naked or taking care of her in the way Lando always had. Maybe he had never kissed her, but he had held her hand in moments of pain and he had been there for her when no boyfriends had the privilege of being able to show up. Lando had always been something to her and she had always been something to him, they both knew that.

He wanted her to stay single and he wanted her to stay his precious girl.

And suddenly, he couldn’t deny what he felt for her.

On the couch, with Max a few feet away from them and his fingers only lightly grazing her warmth, Lando’s eyes turned to her and he gave into the pull that he had been fighting for years.

A minute away from begging her to see him for what he needed her to, her phone lit up between them. One singular notification lit up the screen, her lock screen a picture of them two after he had gotten his Silverstone podium. A notification which was from Chris, a blushing emoji next to his name.

His mouth opened from the words he so recklessly wanted to say, he realized what he was about to do: confessing feelings he found out about five seconds ago while Max was sitting next to them. So embarrassed and slowly reaching a state of distraught, Lando retracted his arm from her body.

Y/n grabbed her phone from the space between their legs, opened her phone, and giggled at whatever stared back at her.

Lando knew his face said it all. He was always facially expressive. If she had turned her head, or Max, they would’ve seen it written all over his face. The sickening realization that he was in love with the girl sitting beside him.

Part of him loved that they weren’t paying attention to him, but another part wished she would move her head a few centimeters, catch his eyes, and let him study the way she took his breath away.

—

“Where are you going?” Lando stumbled over his feet as he ran to the door. Y/n in a black, tight dress looking stunning had alarms going off in his head.

Her hand on the door knob, “A date.”

“Why?”

She laughed slowly, “Um, because? Chris asked me? I said yes?”

Lando’s hands rested on his hips, gray sweatpants slugging low on his waist as he stared at her, “Where’s he taking you?”

She mirrored his stance, “Why?”

He scoffed, “Because! I should know where you are! What if he tries to kill you and nobody knows your location?”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and opened the door. In the crack, Lando could see Chris standing against his car with flowers in his hand, looking like everything Y/n deserves and more. Chilling as he realized he’s trying to fight something that is not meant for him. Y/n doesn’t deserve him. She deserves someone who will sleep next to her every night, who won’t leave her every weekend for their job. She deserves someone who is available and dependable. He isn’t that. He will never be that. Chris already is that.

“I will be fine, Lan. Thank you for worrying, but Chris is a nice guy.” She smiled, not giving him room to argue as she slipped out and closed the door.

He stared at the wood for a moment or two, hearing her giggles from outside and knowing how taken she sounded. He wanted her to turn around, to open the door back up and say something that would give him confirmation that Max wasn’t right; that he didn’t realize too late the things he felt for her.

She would never come to the door and Lando would, after fifteen minutes of waiting and hearing the tires drive away, slink back to his bed.

—

She came to the door. Knocking frantically and rambling the moment Lando opened it, Y/n burst into his apartment.

Lando’s hands raised in the air, “Woah, woah, woah, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

He watched her face light up before she took a deep breath and withheld his favorite smile, “The date went so amazing, Lan! He is so considerate and… and he listens! Lando, he sat there and listened to me ramble about my family, my friends, and everything else about my life and then asked me questions about the things I was mentioning! He likes the same things I do and he’s so cute and I can genuinely feel like he really likes me this time! He puts in the effort! He! Puts! In! The! Effort! Lando! Seriously, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy!”

Even though he knew it before answering the door, her bursting summary of this perfect guy solidified it for him.

She came to the door, but she didn’t come for him.

He stared at her, his heart emptied out of hope as he watched her big smile dwindle down.

”Why don’t you look happy for me?” She cocked her head as he stared back at her, a dead expression adorning his usually calm face.

”I love you.”

Lando watched her face drop, a hopeful smile morphing into a void. Her bag dropped to her feet and she leaned her head forward, “Stop.”

He blinked at her, “What?”

She looked back up at him, “Stop, Lando. Don’t say that.”

He scoffed, “It’s true!”

Glistening tears pooled in her eyes, “Lando, stop. Don’t be mean.”

He shook his head, “Y/n, I’m not being mean. I’m being honest.”

She roughly wiped the wetness that had fallen to her cheeks before looking at him with such a deadly gaze, “No, you aren’t! This is so fucking selfish of you! For once, I’ve found someone that will put in the effort and that I can genuinely trust in making the right decisions when it comes to me! And, now, here you fucking are, telling me you love me! It’s fucking cruel! Can you just let me be happy just this once? Why can’t I get my chance to be in love? You’ve experienced it! Why can’t you just let me do it?!”

He took a step closer to her and she took one back, “I do want you to be happy! I want you to be with me!”

She crossed her arms, “Oh, and you’re going to make me happy?”

“I will try.” He whispered.

She memorized the heels strapped around her feet, “Not good enough.”

He reared back, “What?”

She willed her eyes to meet his, “Not. Good. Enough. Chris will be good to me, I know that. I can’t trust that you’ll be good to me or be good to me until you get bored and find someone else to have fun with.”

”Is that what you think you are to me?” He asked, his heart reaching out for her, but breaking into pieces for how she views herself in his life before he can get there.

She looked up at him, eyes reddening under the tears, “If I meant something to you, if you loved me, you’d want me to be with the safe option.”

His hand trailed up her arm as tears fell from his cheeks similarly to hers, “I can be the safe option.”

”No, Lando. No, you can’t. I want Chris. I can’t deal with whatever life crisis you’re in the midst of right now.”

He groaned, “It’s not a life crisis. It’s me realizing what you truly mean to me.”

She waved her hand, “Sure, Lando.”

She moved away from his cornering, taking steps toward the door before Lando stopped her, “Don’t tell me I don’t love you.”

”I’m going to. I won’t give up the first guy to genuinely show me I mean something deeply to him for someone else who just apparently figured out they loved me after years of spending time together.” She continued by confirming his deepest fears, “You’re not reliable. You can't always be there when I need you to. That’s fine. I understand, but I’m not going to put myself in a spot to get hurt for you.”

He pleaded with her, “Why can’t you just give me a chance?”

”It’s not worth it, Lando.” She stared at him, “Let me be happy.”

”You can be happy with me.”

She shook her head, “Everything looks clearer in the morning, including your feelings for me.”

”What does that even mean?” He questioned, her form retreating to the door and practically screaming at him to let her go.

She sighed, “I’m sure you’re just tired. I’m sure you don’t mean any of this. How could you? Lando, you could get anyone. I’m not the girl you choose.”

Tears falling harder, he exhaled a quick breath, “You are the girl I choose!”

”And how long until I’m not?”

A silence followed, one that gave her enough time to open the door and leave. What was supposed to be the start of a new chapter for her turned into a reference to a past one.

The past chapter in her life where she loved Lando just as he described to her seconds before and a chapter where she convinced herself he would never feel the same. Still, she believed he never would. That what he had said to her was an episode, some dream he was sleep-talking in.

Lando would never pick her in the long run.

Even when he said he would.

[somerandomdudelmao]

sitting on my hands, silently screaming because I can't stop thinking about the connection between Casey and Raph and about Casey discovering said connection and So, to temper my hype, I decided to try and find as many Casey-Raph parallels and possible Raph-sourced influences on Casey: (forgive my formatting I am not used to Tumblr) 1. Casey being able to easily mimic Raph's growls, despite having no memory of learning (note: more obvious b/c it happened so recent. though, based on the fact that the other turtles were surprised by Casey making the noise... did Raph teach him?)

2. Honestly, just Casey's protective nature in general? Casey works so hard to protect his family (learning how to carry his much-bigger-uncles, caring to their needs when their vulnerable without question (i.e. tot Leo and Donnie), literally any time he's concerned with the turtle's health))

3. (Slightly-iffy BUT:) Being very conscious of his strength/fragility of others - - which might be a tad silly to say when all his family is bigger and stronger than him, and there is already another connection in that to Leo, but I cannot get Raph ever admitting "I'm the strong one, the big brother, so I need to protect and take care of you guys!!" so I'm calling it a mix of both Raph and Leo

4. The way they hold/cradel the tinies is very similar (note: there might be more reflections of this category but I honestly can't tell b/c most characters are bigger then Casey)

5. Another different, fun pose where they mirror each other pt.3 (except its very obvious)

6. Krang-ified Casey looks a lot like Krang-ified Raph; from the right eye (our left) to the tentacle right arm (our left) to the clawed left arm (our right) to the spikes. too many similarities for me not to at least point it out.

7. Casey and Raph being attacked by (proportionally the same size to them) Tiny Donnies and getting absolutely bodied.

8. This specific expression - - a possible common trait in just adoring cute things? (note: need more data to find this out, cus I did find a similar expression on Donnie, and we can't really see sparkles in Robot!Raph's eyes, but there was one from the show that's rather close.)

... did I over look into some traits that can maybe be explained other ways? probably. did I miss some parallels? definitely, this series is littered with them. but this AU has me by the throat and we are getting backstory on MY favorite of the turtles, so I need to cope somehow. (This is also my first ask. Idk if I'm did it right. I hope it goes through, and at least someone sees it.) (Message to anyone who sees this: HYDRATE OR DIEDRATE, BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T HAVE A DONATELLO WHO WILL REVIVE YOU.)

What a wonderful research

[doctorbitchcrxft]

The Kids Are All Right | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: recovering from an assault (heed this warning pls my loves), canon gore, canon violence, angst

Word Count: 4773

A/N: Heyyyy.... accidentally posted two at the same time haha. No episode this Saturday as a result; I'm sorry, y'all!! But a little extra treat today!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You and Sam spoke almost twice daily after your heart-to-heart leaving Lincoln. You were incredibly grateful to still have his friendship; even if your phone calls had to be carefully maneuvered around times when Dean was in the room. 

You were unsure how to feel about the fact that Sam was still trying to find ways to break Dean’s deal knowing he’d die if that happened but would also support your friend in whatever his decision was. You refused to have any involvement in picking between the lives of the two brothers, though, even if you were falling deeper and deeper in love with him with each passing day. 

Just the thought of seeing him again was enough to have butterflies swirling in your stomach. You were terrified of what he’d say to you, yes, but you missed him so dearly. As chaotic as he could be at times, he truly was your rock. And with each day that passed, the sore pang in your heart at the thought of him seemed to intensify.

Not to mention, your struggle with your assault was draining you. Your heart hurt every time you walked past a mirror, and every once in a while, you’d see yourself in that guard uniform.

“Where are you guys?” you asked Sam through the phone as you walked around your motel room pulling clothes on.

“Cicero, Indiana,” Sam replied.

Your heart and stomach dropped. “What?”

“No way you’re here, too,” Sam began to laugh.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Sam! I purposefully picked a case that seemed like it wouldn’t pan out to stay away from him!” you replied frantically. “I mean, ‘guy falls on his own power saw’ doesn’t exactly scream unsolved mysteries!”

Sam was still laughing, but cleared his throat before talking again. “Yeah, but Dean’s cruisin’ for a hookup, too. That’s his main motivation, I think.”

You scoffed and ignored the burning feeling in your chest. “Of course, he is. Who is it this time?”

“Lisa Braeden. His… five day road trip from about eight years ago,” Sam explained. 

“Oh,” you breathed out. “Gumby girl.”

“So you know of her,” Sam said.

“Oh, yeah! After one of the first times we had sex, he told me I gave Gumby Girl a run for her money. ‘Best sex of my life before you’ is a direct quote,” you told him.

“Okay, ew,” Sam grimaced. “I don’t need to hear about your sex life—”

“It was topically relevant, Sam!”

“—and this is apparently one of his ‘dying wishes’.” 

“Way to let me down easy, jackass,” you sassed at the brunet’s clear inability to read the room in this situation. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave. Let Dean have his fun,” you continued.

“No, don’t!” Sam begged. “At least stay till tomorrow so we can meet for coffee. I’m sure Dean ‘ll still be out with Gumby.”

“We should probably call that poor woman by her actual name,” you giggled. “But sure. I’ll stay till then.”

“Great!” You could practically hear Sam grinning on the other end of the phone. “I’ll call you when I get up tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Bye, Sammy.”

***

Someone pounding on your door at around one in the morning woke you up with a start. Swiftly, you put the barrel of your gun to the door and listened because there was no peephole for you to look through. You opened the door a crack when you heard nothing for a moment to reveal Dean staring at the ground before looking up at you.

Shocked, you slammed the door in his face and threw your gun at your bed. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to lock the door behind you, and Dean waltzed into your bedroom.

“(Y/N), you can’t leave,” the man told you.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Dean? How did you even find me?!” you cried. “What, you think after three weeks of not talking I’m just gonna let you— Especially after you just fucked Gumby Girl—!” You began pacing around the room.

“I didn’t fuck Gumby Girl, (Y/N),” he said softly, still standing close to the door.

You scoffed and crossed your arms, suddenly very aware of the underwear and oversized band t-shirt you wore to bed that night. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” he replied, still staring at the ground. His hands stayed in his leather jacket pockets. “Couldn’t bring myself to even try.”

You threw your arms out in frustration. “What, am I supposed to forgive you for not fucking one out of the many Sam’s been telling me about you being with since I left?!”

Dean seemed stunned.

“Yeah! So, I’m sorry, but you’re not just gonna waltz in here and act like everything’s fine and dandy,” you chortled coldly.

“Are you gonna give me a chance to explain myself?” he questioned angrily.

“Why should I?” you scoffed.

“Because you love me! I thought that was the whole point!” he argued.

You stared him down, eyebrows drawn together. “Well, you obviously don’t love or respect me enough not to go fuck random girls literal days after I leave.”

“I do!” he shot back. “Would you just fucking listen? I was drinking alone when Sam thought I was with those other chicks.”

You said nothing, still glaring at him.

“I didn’t fuck any of them, (Y/N), ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you!”

Tension hung thick in the air between the two of you, and you looked up at him with dewey eyes. When you couldn’t stand to hold his gaze anymore, you turned away. “Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you… say it back? Say anything back?” Your voice broke while you talked. 

“I should’ve,” Dean replied quietly. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left you guys with those demons.”

You felt Dean’s fingers gently graze your arm, and he waited for you to flinch away for a moment. When you didn’t, he reached out and gingerly turned you to face him and held you to his chest. 

You melted into him almost immediately and let all of the emotion you’d been holding back for the past three weeks out. He rested his head on top of yours and just held you there for a minute. 

“I can’t watch you die, Dean,” you told him, still hugging him tightly. “I can’t do it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he said. “Can you just… stick around till my time is up?” He gently pushed you away from him slightly to turn your eyes up to meet his gaze. “Please? It’s my dying wish.”

You giggled through your tears but nodded. You immediately dove back into his chest. “I don’t want you to leave,” you whispered. 

“I don’t wanna leave you,” he said, voice beginning to shake. “But I couldn’t let ‘im die, (Y/N). I couldn’t do it.” “I know,” you nodded. 

The two of you stood there holding each other once more until Dean spoke up again. “And, uh… ditto, by the way.”

“What?” you snorted, pulling away from him. 

“What you said… at Bobby’s,” he explained, avoiding your eyes.

“You love me?” you asked, smiling lopsidedly.

Dean just nodded. 

“And you told me just by saying ‘ditto’?” You burst out into laughter at Dean’s attempt at vulnerability. 

Dean went red in the face and turned away. 

“No, no!” you said, immediately quieting down. “It’s just— that was so cute. You’re adorable when you can’t emote properly.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, tilting your chin up to kiss you passionately and effectively silence your laughter. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck immediately; almost like a reflex. 

When you pulled away, you leaned your forehead against Dean’s. 

“You know I’m not letting you leave again,” he said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you smiled. 

***

You sat on the bed facing a shirtless Dean who was reclining against the headboard on a pillow while he told you his story from yesterday. He lazily drew circles on your outermost hip with his thumb as he talked. 

“So, I went to her house, right? ‘Cause… y’know. Gumby Girl,” he began sheepishly. “And, uh, turns out, she’s got a son.”

“Jesus, really?” you replied. “I forget most people have kids at our age.”

“See, this is where it gets interesting,” Dean continued. “So I go out to the backyard, and I see this kid, and (Y/N), I’m telling you, he looked just like me. Acted just like me, too. It felt like fuckin’ Freaky Friday.”

“Dean, don’t tell me—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” he cut you off. “But no. Lisa said he’s not mine.”

“How do you know she’s not lying?” you asked. You finally processed the story Dean was telling you, and realization washed over you in tidal waves. “You could have a child. You might be his father. What the fuck.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” he said. “It’s freakin’ me out, man. But that’s not all.”

“Dean, if this involves a paternity test that names you as a match, I’m gonna start freakin’ out,” you said.

“No, no, it doesn’t. At least, not yet,” he chuckled. 

You glared at him.

He laughed. “Anyway, I think there really is a case here. One of those kids at the party was weird.”

“Yeah, Dean, kids are weird. Any other earth-shattering news I should be aware of?” you snorted.

Dean deadpanned at you. “You know what I mean. She wasn’t standin’ all the way upright—”

“Maybe she just has scoliosis—” you cut in.

Dean kept talking over you. “—And she kept glaring at everybody—”

“—I glare at everybody—” you continued.

“—And it’s the kid whose dad fell on the power saw.”

You considered for a moment. “Okay, maybe there is something happening. But it could also just be how her grief is manifesting.”

“Yeah, but (Y/N), all kinds of freaky accidents have been happening all over the neighborhood,” Dean explained further. “People fallin’ off ladders, drowning in hot tubs—”

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” you sighed.

“What’s your hold-up with all this?” he asked.

“Whaddya think, Dean,” you deadpanned.

“What, Lisa?” He seemed genuinely shocked. 

“I just think we should leave this town in our rearview mirror. Y’know, between Gumby Girl and her kid that’s potentially yours— oh, god,” you muttered when you fully realized Dean might have a son.

“(Y/N), he’s probably not mine. I mean, she said he wasn’t,” Dean reminded you.

“Somehow, that’s not making me feel better,” you grumbled. 

Dean pulled you down toward him and gently kissed your lips.

“Dean—” you tried, but he cut you off with another kiss. “Dean—” and he kissed you again, “—you can’t just—” another kiss, “distract me with this stuff—” another kiss, “—when we’re in the middle of a serious discussion.”

Dean kissed you once more and pulled you to straddle his hips. “It’s working, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately,” you smiled against his lips.

When Dean tried to grind up into you, though, you suddenly jerked back from him. 

He looked up at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head, tears swimming in your eyes. “I— I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s—”

“It’s okay,” Dean assured you. “We don’t have to do anything. It’s alright.”

You laid down on Dean’s chest, closing your eyes and trying to steady your breathing. Dean kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you to comfort you. Oh, how grateful you were to know him.

***

Later that day, you and Dean walked back to the Impala after investigating a few of the houses where accidents had happened recently. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; no cold spots, no EMF, nothing resembling a creature’s lair. It was all very “Stepford” in Dean’s opinion.

When you’d almost reached the car, Dean abruptly grabbed your arm. You gasped slightly and turned to face the direction he was. 

“That’s him,” Dean whispered. “That’s the kid.”

You looked ahead at a little boy with spiky brown hair wearing a canvas jacket sitting sadly on a park bench. 

Dean slid his hand down your arm to your hand and pulled you along with him. “Hey, Ben,” he told the kid.

The boy looked up at Dean. “Hey. You were at my party.” Ben seemed to notice you for the first time. “ ‘Sup?” the little guy nodded at you, attempting to smirk through his apparent sadness. 

‘Jesus, this really might be Dean’s kid,’ you thought. 

“I'm Dean, this is (Y/N),” he said, sitting down next to Ben on the bench. You stood next to Dean cautiously. “Everything okay? Something wrong?” Dean asked Ben, who didn’t respond. 

You noticed the empty gaming console case Ben was holding and looked out to the field to see a group of four boys playing with something that looked just about the size to fit the case.

“Is that your game they're playing with?” the older Winchester asked Ben.

The little boy  wouldn’t look at you or Dean. “Ryan Humphrey borrowed it, and now, he won't give it back.”

Dean was immediately ready to beat up eight-year-olds. “Well, you want me to go—”

“No!” Ben exclaimed, grabbing Dean’s arm. “Don't go over there! Only bitches send a grown-up.”

Dean grinned. “You’re not wrong.”

This whole interaction was completely flooring you; rendering you unable to add anything to the conversation.

“And I am not a bitch,” Ben finished.

Dean pointed to a boy wearing long cargo shorts holding the gaming console. “Is that Humphrey? The one that needs to lay off the burgers?”

The little boy smiled and nodded.

Dean hummed. 

“Dean, what are you—”

He ignored you and turned to Ben to talk to him in a hushed voice. You couldn’t quite hear what Dean was telling him to do, and you were puzzled when Ben got up from the bench and started walking over to the group of boys.

“They’re gonna eat that poor kid alive, dude, what were you thinking?” you chastised him, shoving his shoulder lightly. 

“Just watch,” Dean urged.

Ben turned back around to the two of you, and Dean offered him a thumbs-up and a grin. 

A moment later, Ben turned away from the bullies before whipping back around and kicking the boy holding his game straight between his legs twice.

“Dean, what the fuck,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

Ben walked back to you and Dean, triumphantly smiling and holding his game. “Thanks! Dude, that was awesome!”

Suddenly, a gorgeous woman stormed up to you, Dean, and Ben. “Benjamin Isaac Braeden! What has gotten into you?!”

“Gumby Girl,” you realized. 

Dean smacked your thigh lightly to get you to be quiet.

“He stole my game!” Ben tried to explain.

“So you kick him? Since when is—” she looked down at Dean and scoffed. “Did you tell my son to beat up that kid?”

“What?” Dean was still smiling. “Somebody had to teach him how to kick the bully in the nads.”

“Who asked you to teach him anything?” Lisa argued.

“You’re right, he’s sorry,” you said, trying to pull Dean away.

“What are you even still doing here? We had one weekend together a million years ago. You don't know me. And you have no business with my son,” Lisa raged, grabbing Ben’s hand to walk off with him. “Just leave us alone.”

“He will!” you asserted, to both Lisa and Dean. 

Ben broke out of his mother’s grip and ran back to Dean, wrapping his arms around his legs in a tight hug. 

“Thanks,” Ben smiled up at Dean.

Your heart melted and broke at the sight. 

As Ben returned to his mother, you saw three children a few yards beyond them standing in a straight line and turning their heads in tandem. Dean seemed to have noticed, too, and the two of you decided to get out of there as quickly as possible.

When you got into the Impala, you couldn’t say a word. 

Dean looked over at you. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” you replied.

“You look like you’re suckin’ on a lemon. C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

“He really does seem like your kid,” was all you could manage to say.

Dean sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

“And, uh, if that does end up being the case—”

“Whoa, what?” Dean cut you off. “Since when am I following up with that?”

You sighed. “I don’t know, Dean, if you are his father, the kid deserves to have you in his life.”

“Sweetheart, the best thing I can do for that kid is get the hell away from him,” Dean replied. “He doesn’t need to be anywhere near me or this life.”

“Why?” you said. “ ‘Cause you think you’d be bad at it? You were great with him today.— y'know, aside from encouraging assault.”

“Yeah, (Y/N), for two seconds,” he said. “Why are you pushing this anyway?”

You paused. “I don’t know, I thought it might just be good for you. Give you an opportunity to live out your last year in peace. Happy.”

Dean’s posture softened, and he said nothing for a moment. “Thanks, but no. I’d take you and huntin’ evil sons of bitches over Middle America any day.” He reached out to you and pulled you to him, placing a kiss to the side of your head. 

***

When you arrived at the boys’ motel room, Sam was at his laptop researching. 

“Somethin’s wrong with the kids in this town,” you told him as you took your jacket off.

Sam replied without looking away from his computer, “Yeah. Tell me about it. So, what do you know about changelings?”

“Evil monster babies?” Dean questioned.

“No, not babies,” you chimed in.

“They're kids,” Dean realized. “Creepy, ‘stare at you like you're lunch’ kids?”

Sam nodded. “There's one at every victim's house.”

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” you mumbled.

“What?” Sam questioned. 

“We got a pile of missing kids being kept in a hole somewhere and a fuckton of changelings we gotta torch. Dean, where’s your kerosene?”

“Already on it,” he said, leaving the room.

“So, I’m guessing you talked things out,” Sam said once the door closed behind Dean.

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled playfully. 

“So… you’re not leaving?” Sam questioned.

“No. Not yet, anyway,” you said, tone becoming more serious. “I’ll be there to tell him ‘bye,’ but I won’t watch him get dragged to hell. I can’t do that, Sam.”

The younger Winchester paused. “I get it. Hopefully, we won’t have to.”

Dean came back into the room not a moment later holding his torch and grinning.

“You and your gadgets,” you laughed warmly. 

“So, changelings can perfectly mimic children,” Sam began. “According to lore, they climb in the window, snatch the kid. Y'know, there were marks on the windowsill at one of the kid's houses. Looked to me like blood.”

“The changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins the happy fam just for kicks?” Dean questioned.

“I wish that were the case,” you said. “Changelings feed on the mom’s synovial fluid. Sam, did you notice any strange bruising on their backs? It’d be just below the base of their neck?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Sam asked you. 

“It’s the typical spot they feed from,” you replied. “On the end of their creepy, face-hugger-from-Alien tongues, they have these little spines that extend through the body to reach all those spaces between the joints. Pretty gnarly injuries.”

“Right,” Sam nodded. “Changelings can drain them for a few weeks before mom finally croaks.”

“And then, there's dad and the babysitter,” Dean added, referencing two of the victims.

“Yeah. Seems like anyone who gets between the changeling and its food source ends up dead,” Sam finished.

“And fire’s the only way to kill ‘em,” you said, nodding at Dean’s torch. “See why I was worried about all this?”

“Yeah,” Dean huffed. “Great.”

“According to lore, they stash the kids underground somewhere,” Sam continued, “I don't know why, but if it's true, the real kids might be out there.”

“We better start looking,” Dean asserted, seeming to have something on his mind.

“What?” you asked.

He hesitated before answering you with a question. “Any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?”

You nodded.

“We gotta make a stop. I wanna check on someone,” Dean told you, and you knew he meant Ben.

Dean held your gaze as Sam began to protest. “Well Dean, if the real kids are still alive, we don't have time. We—”

“We have to,” Dean stated firmly. 

***

Throughout the drive to Lisa’s house, you tried your best to remain calm. You weren’t truly worried about the potential that Ben could’ve been kidnapped or by the fact that Dean was upset, it was the thought of Lisa and Ben potentially taking Dean away from you. You knew your fear was irrational and maybe even a bit toxic, but you still worried that maybe Dean was still attracted to Lisa. Or maybe Dean was Ben’s dad and would be obligated to see and spend time around the two of them. The thought nearly made you throw up while you watched Dean knock on Lisa’s door. 

You saw Lisa yelling at him, and Dean ran back over to the Impala seeming incredibly worried. “They took Ben. He's changed,” Dean explained, hurriedly getting into the car.

“What?! Are you sure?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, I'm sure. I checked his windowsill,” the older brother nodded.

“Blood?” 

“I don't think it is blood, and I think I know where the kids are.”

***

Dean drove quickly toward a house under construction with a large mound of red dirt sitting on the lawn outside of it. The exterior of the home was almost finished, and the “For Sale” sign on the lawn was stained partially by the dirt.

“Red dirt,” Sam noted, bending down to inspect the sign. “That's what was on the window.”

“Ah, you take the front,” Dean told Sam. “(Y/N), take the left side; I got the other.”

You nodded and set off, gun and flashlight drawn. You crept around the corners of the house until you came to a set of doors angled down to a cellar. You jumped down into it and found small, empty cages lining the walls.

“What do you think you're doing?” a voice suddenly asked from behind you. 

You looked up at the entrance of the cellar to see a redheaded woman glaring at you. 

“You’re staying here until I can get the police here,” the woman said, pulling out her phone.

“Wait, wait,” you tried. “I’m sorry, I was just looking for a place to stay for the night.”

“Then why do you have a gun?” she hissed.

“Self-defense,” you replied coolly. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

The redhead tsked and shook her head. “I don’t think you will.” She stood from the entrance to the cellar and closed both doors on you.

“Wait, no!” You rushed toward the doors, but it was too late. She had latched them shut by the time you got to them. Immediately, you started banging on the doors and trying to get them open. You turned around to one of the cages and picked it up, hurling it at the closed doors. You tried again and again, using the cage to hit the door, your shoulder to slam into it, and even tried using a piece of wire from the cage to take off the hinges, but nothing worked. Helplessly, you banged on the door and screamed for Sam and Dean.

Suddenly, you began to smell smoke.

‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought, breath quickening with urgency. You slammed your body into the doors as hard as you could manage. 

Across the cellar from you, the flames began to catch the ceiling, creating a gaping hole in the floor for debris and fiery planks of wood to fall through. You slammed into the doors once more, screaming for Dean. 

The smoke in the room began to fill your lungs and forced a cough out of you. You screamed Dean’s name again hoarsely, turning around briefly to see the fire had spread incredibly close to you. If you didn’t get out soon, the whole building would collapse on your head.

“Dean, please!” you screamed. 

Suddenly, you heard the door to the cellar unlatching.

“(Y/N)?!”

“Dean!” you cried.

He threw the doors open and pulled you out of the smoldering building. He quickly checked you over for injuries, cupping the sides of your face. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Let’s go!” You grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him around to the front of the house, running as fast as your legs would carry you as flames taunted you dangerously close to your face. You ran across the street to where Sam was standing with a crowd of terrified children and Ben. 

“Sam!” you exclaimed. “Everybody okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Sam replied. 

Ben seemed shaken up, but he was trying to comfort the other kids around him. You smiled down at him. Dean was exactly the same way. No matter what was going on in his own head, he always checked on the needs of others first. It was one of the things you loved most about him; he was always showing you what compassion truly looked like. 

***

When the fire department had come and the children— all except for one— had been returned home, you and the boys drove Ben back to Lisa’s house. 

“Ben?!” the woman called, running out of the house. “Baby, are you okay?”

Ben ran to his mom and hugged her. “I'm okay, Mom.”

“Oh, my god,” Lisa sobbed. “What the hell just happened?”

“I'll explain everything if you want me to,” Dean started, “but, trust me, you probably don't. The important thing is that Ben's safe.”

“Thank you,” Lisa surged forward and hugged Dean. “Thank you.”

Dean seemed hesitant for which you were thankful, but still returned her hug.

Ben turned to head into his house, and Lisa moved to follow. She turned back to Dean apprehensively. “Do you— wanna come inside?” she asked. 

“Uh, no thanks,” Dean replied. “We, uh, gotta hit the road.”

Lisa nodded, deflating slightly. 

“But… you’re a hundred-percent sure Ben’s not mine, right?” Dean asked. 

She nodded and smiled. “You're off the hook. I did a blood test when he was a baby.”

“Oh,” Dean replied. “Good.”

“I... I swear you look disappointed,” Lisa noted.

“Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know your life... I mean, this house and a kid…” he trailed off. “It's not my life. Never will be. Some stuff happened to me recently, and, uh... Anyway, a guy in my situation— you start to think, y’know. I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?”

“I don't know. Ben may not be your kid, but,” Lisa began, “he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot if you ask me.”

Dean nodded and turned back to you and his brother who stood by the car watching silently. “You know, just for the record…” He turned back to Lisa.  “You got a great kid. I would've been proud to be his dad.”

Lisa smiled at him, as did you, before Dean headed back to the driver’s seat. For once, Sam let you sit in the passenger’s seat, and you popped a Faith No More cassette into the Impala’s built-in player. 

***

A few hours into the drive, Sam had fallen asleep. You and Dean were left holding each other’s hand in silent support; a reassurance the other was there and okay. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier? To Lisa?” you murmured.

“About what?”

“Leaving nothing behind except a car?” you continued.

“Aw, c’mon—” Dean sighed. 

“No, Dean. That’s crap,” you quietly said. “You have a legacy. Everything you’ve ever done has been out of love and compassion. That is who you are. That’s what you’re leaving behind.”

Dean’s eyes flicked toward you, his expression unreadable. He was quite literally the only person to ever confuse your intuitive, watchful eye with his thoughtful, complicated expressions. 

The older Winchester turned his eyes back to the road and brought your entwined hands to his lips, kissing the backs of your knuckles. 

You reveled in the feeling, knowing the feeling of his lips on your skin in this moment, the pattern of Sam’s breathing steadily in the backseat, and the way his hand felt in yours would be a memory you’d need to hold onto when he was gone. Maybe that way, you’d be able to find peace; knowing that not even death could completely tear Dean away from you. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[radioisntdead]

Ok. So…you can’t just put potential Rosie HeadCanons in my face like that and NOT expect me to start gushing girl.

Rosie with a reader who has a powerful instant regeneration ability. Just imaging they chop off a limb or some fingers and offer them up to Rosie like - “Flame grilled or Sushi?”

Being cute while she’s devouring their pinkie finger while having tea, and reader is SO nonchalant about it.

Good evening my dear! Rosie is just munchin' on the reader like a snack.

Warnings!!

Cannibalism [Fun fact, this is one of the main warnings in the fics I write, out of context this is concerning, EVEN WITH CONTEXT ITS KINDA CONCERNING??] mild gore for obvious reasons, temporary self mutilation??? The seasoning of limbs I don't know but this gets weird, as per usual this more then likely isn't proofread, I wrote headcanons and a drabble but this is somewhat short my apologies!

You and Rosie's relationship is odd to say the least, I mean y'all are in hell but still, but it's healthier then the majority of relationships down there,

I imagine you just carry around like a butcher knife so whenever Rosie is hungry you just go CHOP and hand her your hand or something,

Also if you carry around a bag I imagine you put some seasonings and sauces in for her to choose as well, because unseasoned meat is gross.

Rosie seems like the type to season her food.

The first time you popped off a limb you did with without warning and almost scared Rosie half to double death!

Give the gal a warning and tell her that you can regenerate limbs! She did enjoy munching on it afterwards though!

If you're an overlord you supply her with snacks at meetings,

She just whispers to you that she's hungry and that after the meeting you should get a meal,

And then you with zero discretion chop off a finger and offer it to her,

Carmilla Carmine wasn't pleased, neither were the other overlords [excluding Alastor, he finds it entertaining] and that's saying something since they've more then likely done horrendous things to get to their overlord status.

Rosie however is pleased with the snack, she would prefer if you didn't get blood on the table though,

Maybe in advance you go chop chop and put fingers in a Ziploc bag and hand it to her like it's baby carrots.

Less mess that way,

During tea time I imagine you do prep work in advance so you have an assortment of your fingers in different flavors, so your hand is mess free to be able to hold Rosie's hand while sipping tea,

Or maybe having a picnic, you just pop off an arm and thinly slice it and put it in a little sandwich, maybe some type of dessert? I don't know

Similar to the Alastor biting headcanons I did, Rosie bites you,

But unlike Alastor she doesn't just break skin, she takes CHUNKS OUT, I image you either have a really REALLY REALLY high pain tolerance or you can't feel pain because this has to be painful.

Also you probably need to have towels nearby because this gets messy, like it looks like a murder scene, but without the murder.

You are a snack, literally, a walking talking snack that Rosie adores with all her cannibalistic heart.

....................

You hummed as Rosie sat nearby sipping tea, it was a decent day in hell, the sky was red, sinners were screaming in the distance, and you were pulling back a meat cleaver to provide more fingers,

"Rosie darling, Should I take out the bone or leave it in this time?"

"Leave it in, it gives the fingers a nice crunch!"

Rosie said looking at you, grinning her sharp teeth shining like a razer sharp knife, eyes like a endless void of pitch black that one could get lost in, you could wander in and never escape.

You were completely and utterly in love with her,

Giving a lovely smile back you nodded before ramming down the cleaver, spattering blood across the counter, you pulled your now fingerless hand back, giving it a slight shake before a swirl of black smoke covered it and within seconds you had fingers again, you pull back the cleaver to repeat the process, after all your beloved Rosie was hungry and five fingers wasn't much!

Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in!

I never thought I would be writing cannibal x readers but here we are, anyways I'm still working through requests! I got a Found family Rosie, an parental Alastor, an angsty Velvette and another one that I can't remember but It's in the drafts! Also Alrighty tune in time!

[haikirii]

Thinking about q!Cellbit's life: before, during and after the war

Recently, q!Cellbit talked a bit more about his wartime background alongside q!Badboyhalo - let's pretend I'm not freaking out about my hcs being canonized - and I wanted to reflect a little bit on everything he said. Mainly, reflecting on how tragic q!Cellbit's life is and how he can only have a normal routine after arriving on the island.

First of all, I would like to remind you of a rather sad fact that gives us some clues about your childhood that is still a mystery. One day, q!Cellbit was having a picnic with Richarlyson and he says "Did you know I've never been on a picnic before on this island?", which made me think about something so simple never having happened even in his childhood. Maybe I'm making a simple sentence a lot deeper than it should be, but when q!Cellbit confirmed that he entered the war at just 14/15 years old, my mind can't help but wander to that sentence and that day.

Come on, from what little q!Cellbit elaborated from the war for Richarlyson - which I'll talk more about later - leads me to believe that at the very least you'd have to have some heavy training to survive in it as an average soldier. However, q!Cellbit was not just any soldier, he was one of the best of his time at just 14 years old. How long did he train? Who trained his? How intense and cruel does training have to be for a 14-year-old teenager to be a killing machine amidst the chaos of the battlefield? What all this makes me think is that he was specifically trained from childhood to be a soldier. Sure, the training might not have been able to erase his teenage recklessness and rebelliousness, but it's still the only thing I can think of for him to have been such a good fighter. q!Cellbit didn't have comfort, he didn't rest, he never did normal child things and maybe that's why he values so much that Richarlyson lives like a normal child even with all the dangers of the island. Even though Richarlyson would also have to have been raised as a warrior to protect himself, q!Cellbit still doesn't want him to have the same fate as him.

And then we go to war and that's when q!Badboyhalo enters. He confirmed, once again, that the demon was with him and that they fought side by side. Of the things that q!Cellbit told him, one of them was that he was an Endergage - outside of roleplay: one of hg's classes. With that, I can only think of a scene where a hyperactive teenager goes around teleporting everyone close to him and killing them with impressive skill while an ancient demon screams at him to be careful and stop cursing while delivering blows. Because killing is OK, but swearing was the limit - and of course q!Cellbit was terrified of q!Badboyhalo cleaning his mouth with soap after battles.

He also mentioned a little bit of how the war worked, which was literally the hg: they were thrown into the arena, without resources and either you were the last one to survive or you would die. q!Cellbit told how there were cowards - his words - who hid in block towers. He seems to hate Stompers quite a bit, citing how he hunted them and how they didn't expect him to be so good with his teleportation power.

And then q!Cellbit tells Richarlyson that "These were simpler times, where I had to fight for my life every day." How troubled does your life have to have been for THIS to have been simpler times? Fight for your life in a cruel battle of life and death every day. He said it was fun days even with fear plaguing his skin, his fun time was on the battlefield.

After that, he says "Then I went to jail […] it has more or less to do (with the war)". And that's what intrigues me the most: even in Fuga Impossível, we never found out why he was arrested. This information is completely new, which leads me to believe in two things: war crime or that he is too strong to let him free in society. I think a lot about the possibility of war crime due to cannibalism, but he himself said he didn't actually commit that much - I just honestly don't know how much we can trust q!Cellbit's words on this because of how unreliable he is when it comes to some prison stuff, tending to smooth things over to his side. Aside from cannibalism, which we're not sure he actually committed in the war as only q!Pac's bites and leg have been confirmed, I think about how he was a good enough killing machine to have a special government interest in leaving him in jail.

Think with me: he entered the war at 14/15 years old, but a lot of things lead me to believe that he was arrested at about 18 years old. He talks about how he and q!Badboyhalo broke up after the war was over and after that the arrest occurred. Maybe that break after the war has made him even more mentally unstable? q!Cellbit still spent a few years in Alcatraz, but we don't know if he was already unstable when he arrived in prison or if the prison messed with his head over the years. His behavior may have been generated as a defense mechanism against other more aggressive inmates along with a reflection of the traumas of battles, he barely had time to process all the years he lived there.

q!Cellbit emphasizes the "kill or die" a lot, it hurts to imagine what that did to his mind. On how after parting with q!Badboyhalo, he was alone and with no one to trust again. He dominated the prison alone, made protection pacts with other gangs alone without being able to really trust them. I've already talked about how important trust is to q!Cellbit, and now it just makes me think that he only had one person to really trust before his arrest.

Quoting myself:

"In Fuga Impossível, the only thing he asked f!Tazercraft was "Don't break my trust". I mean, we can't judge them because f!Cellbit wasn't the sanest person to have a relationship with inside the jail - considering the events that followed and the consequences like f!Felps killed in a riot, f!Pac having his leg eaten, f!Jvnq murdered and f!Celbit abandoned on an island.

However, he still tried to trust in f!Tazercrat. he tried to take a chance, even if you can't see that chance with the best of intentions."

Trust is the central point of this character, it's something essential for him. And he eventually escapes from this other hell he got himself into, alone and with no one to trust after being betrayed and also doing horrible things to his fellow escapees because q!Cellbit is no saint. And once again he has to get back on his own.

And a great deal of time has passed since then. He does some miraculous therapy and gets better, q!Cellbit finds the q!Tazercraft on the ship but they still maintain that distrust from years ago. He also has q!Felps to rely on now and is introduced to q!Forever, nothing is the same as years before.

q!Cellbit finds q!Badboyhalo, his war buddy. Two wounded veterans who've been through life's hell before and after everything, who've split up. Where q!Badboyhalo sees that already grown teenager, full of scars, dark circles and trauma and thinks "What happened to you all this time?".

And it hurts me a lot to think that only now q!Cellbit has found the happiness and confidence he's always been looking for. That being forced onto this island where he was tortured, tricked by the federation several times; kidnapped; had parts of his memories erased from the time he worked there; he suffered for having broken his family at the time of the betrayal; it was only on this damn island that he managed to find people to love and trust.

q!Cellbit loves his family and would do anything for them. He loves his son to the point of considering giving up everything just so he can have a better future than he had; he loves his Guapito, who has his full trust and unconditional love to the point of almost having a relapse when their relationship was threatened.

His Guapito, who was your anchor. The one who trusted and defended him when everyone was against him, the one who supported him in everything he did. The one with whom q!Cellbit made a mistake, but was forgiven and tries to be someone better every day so as not to fail anymore.

q!Forever, who trusts him SO MUCH to the point of not even being interested in knowing information if that put his family at risk. The one who even after hearing so much shit coming out of q!Cellbit's mouth, still had a glimmer of hope that it was all a lie for trusting him.

q!Tazercraft, who forgave him even after everything he'd done. After he killed his friend, who help him because they know that family is all they have.

q!Felps, who is the person he knows best. His best friend who made him go through hell just to find him.

It is on this island, with codes, with a cruel organization that manipulates everyone, with unbelievable entities and mysteries, that he can finally have a normal life. He can finally wake up and have coffee with his son and husband, q!Cellbit can finally just build his castle and do things he never could like a simple picnic with the other eggs on the island.

And when he told q!Forever that "I don't have anyone off this island, everyone I love is here" he was right. Even if he was pretending to infiltrate, that sentence was totally true. q!Cellbit has no one outside Quesadilla Island, he has no reason to want to leave it.

But even so, all he wants is for the people he loves the most to be free. And that's what I love most about this character. I love how he suffered so much, how he saw the worst in people and still wants the best for them.

I love how flawed he is, how he fucks up and acknowledges it. And even when he doesn't recognize it and tries to smooth it over, to me that just makes him even more real. q!Cellbit is full of flaws and full of love, he understands others, he takes care of what is his.

q!Cellbit is human.

tradução pt-br

Recentemente, q!Cellbit falou um pouco mais sobre o seu passado na guerra junto de q!Badboyhalo - vamos fingir que eu não estou surtando pelos meus hcs serem canonizados - e eu queria refletir um pouco sobre tudo o que ele falou. Principalmente, refletir sobre o quão trágica é a vida de q!Cellbit e sobre como ele só pode ter uma rotina normal depois de chegar na ilha.

Primeiro tudo, gostaria de relembrar um fato meio triste que nos dá um pouco de pistas sobre a sua infância que ainda é um mistério. Um dia, q!Cellbit estava fazendo um piquenique com Richarlyson e ele fala "Sabia que eu nunca fui em um piquenique antes dessa ilha?", o que já tinha me despertado uma pulga atrás da orelha sobre uma coisa tão simples nunca ter acontecido nem em sua infância. Talvez eu esteja tornando uma frase simples muito mais profunda do que deveria, mas quando o q!Cellbit confirmou que ele entrou na guerra com apenas 14/15 anos de idade, minha mente não pode deixar de vagar para essa frase e esse dia.

Vamos lá, pelo pouco que o q!Cellbit elaborou da guerra para Richarlyson - que vou falar mais sobre depois - me leva a acreditar que no mínimo você teria que ter um treinamento pesado para sobreviver nela como um soldado mediano. Porém, q!Cellbit não era qualquer soldado, ele era um dos melhores da sua época com apenas 14 anos de idade. Por quanto tempo ele treinou? Quem o treinou? O quão intenso e cruel um treinamento tem que ser para um adolescente de apenas 14 anos de idade ser uma máquina de matar em meio ao caos do campo de batalha? O que tudo isso me faz pensar é que ele foi específicamente treinado desde a infância para ser um soldado. Claro, o treinamento pode não ter sido capaz de apagar a imprudência e rebeldia adolescente, mas ainda assim é a única coisa que eu consigo pensar para ele ter sido um lutador tão bom. q!Cellbit não teve aconchego, não teve descanso, nunca fez coisas normais de uma criança e talvez seja por isso que ele preze tanto para que Richarlyson viva como uma criança normal mesmo com todos os perigos da ilha. Mesmo que Richarlyson tenha que também ter sido criado como um guerreiro para se proteger, ainda assim q!Cellbit não quer que ele tenha o mesmo destino que ele.

E aí vamos para a guerra e é nesse momento que q!Badboyhalo entra. Ele confirmou, mais uma vez, que o demônio estava com ele e que eles lutaram lado a ladoDas coisas que q!Cellbit contou, uma delas era que ele era um Endermage - fora de roleplay: uma das classes de hg. Com isso, eu só consigo pensar em uma cena onde uma adolescente hiperativo saindo por aí teleportando todo mundo para perto de si e matando eles com uma habilidade impressionante enquanto um demônio milenar gritava para ele tomar cuidado e parar de falar palavrão enquanto desferia os golpes. Porque matar? Ok, mas palavrão era o limite - e claro que q!Cellbit morria de medo de q!Badboyhalo limpar sua boca com sabão depois das batalhas.

Ele também citou um pouquinho de como funcionava a guerra, que era literalmente o hg: eles eram jogados na arena, sem recursos e ou você era último a sobreviver ou você morreria. q!Cellbit contou como existiam covardes - palavras dele - que se escondiam em torres de blocos. Ele parece odiar bastante Stompers na real, citando como ele os caçava e como eles não esperava que ele fosse tão bom com seu poder de teleporte.

E então q!Cellbit fala para Richarlyson que "Eram tempos mais simples, onde eu tinha que lutar pela minha vida todos os dias." O quão conturbada a sua vida tem que ter sido para ISSO terem sido tempos mais simples? Lutar por sua vida em uma batalha cruel de vida ou morte todos os dias. Ele ter dito que era dias divertidos mesmo com o medo assolando sua pele, seu momento de diversão era no campo de batalha.

Depois disso, ele diz "Depois eu fui pra cadeia [...] tem mais ou menos relação (com a guerra)". E isso é o que mais me intriga: mesmo em Fuga Impossível, a gente nunca descobriu o porquê de ele ter sido preso. Essa informação é totalmente nova, o que me leva a crer em duas coisas: crime de guerra ou ele ser muito forte para deixar ele livre em sociedade. Eu penso muito sobre a possibilidade do crime de guerra por conta do canibalismo, mas ele mesmo disse que não chegou a cometer tanto assim - só que sinceramente não sei o quanto podemos confiar nas palavras de q!Cellbit sobre isso por conta do quão pouco confiável ele é quando se trata de algumas coisas da prisão, tendendo a amenizar situações para o seu lado. Fora o canibalismo, que não temos certeza se ele chegou a cometer na guerra já que apenas foram confirmados mordidas e a perna de q!Pac, penso em como ele era uma máquina de matar boa o suficiente para ter um interesse especial do governo em deixá-lo preso.

Pensa comigo: ele entrou na guerra com 14/15 anos, mas muita coisa me leva a crer que ele foi preso com uns 18 anos. Ele fala sobre como ele e q!Badboyhalo se separaram depois que a guerra acabou e depois disso ocorreu a prisão. Talvez essa quebra depois da guerra tenha tornado ele ainda mais mentalmente instável? q!Cellbit ainda ficou alguns anos em Alcatraz, mas não sabemos se ele já era instável quando chegou na prisão ou se a cadeia mexeu com a cabeça dele durante os anos. O seu comportamento pode ter sido gerado como um mecanismo de defesa contra outros presos mais agressivos junto de um reflexo dos traumas das batalhas, ele mal pôde ter tempo de processar todos os anos que ele viveu ali.

q!Cellbit frisa muito o "era matar ou morrer", dói muito imaginar o que isso fez com a mente dele. Em como ao se separar de q!Badboyhalo, ele estava sozinho e sem ninguém para confiar de novo. Ele dominou a prisão sozinho, fez pactos de proteção com outras gangues sozinho sem poder realmente confiar neles. Já falei sobre como confiança é importante para q!Cellbit, e agora isso só me faz pensar que ele apenas teve uma pessoa para realmente confiar antes da prisão.

Citando eu mesmo:

"Em Fuga Impossível, a única coisa que ele pediu para os moços foi "Não quebrem a minha confiança". Quero dizer, não podemos julgá-los pois f!Cellbit não era a pessoa mais sã de se ter uma relação dentro da cadeia - considerando nos fatos que se sucederam e nas consequências de um f!Felps morto em uma rebelião, f!Pac tendo sua perna comida, f!Jvnq assassinado e f!Cellbit abandonado em uma ilha.

Porém, ainda assim ele tentou confiar nos moços. Ele tentou dar uma chance, mesmo que você não possa ver essa chance com a melhores das intenções."

Confiança é o ponto central desse personagem, é algo essencial para ele. E ele eventualmente foge desse outro inferno que ele se meteu, sozinho e sem ninguém para confiar depois de ter sido traído e também ter feito coisas horríveis para seus companheiros de fuga porque q!Cellbit não é nenhum santo. E mais uma vez ele tem que dar a volta por cima sozinho.

E um grande espaço de tempo se passa desde então. Ele faz alguma terapia milagrosa e melhora, q!Cellbit reencontra os q!Tazercraft no navio mas eles ainda mantém essa relação de desconfiança de anos atrás. Ele também tem q!Felps para confiar agora e conhece q!Forever, nada é o mesmo que anos antes.

q!Cellbit reencontra q!Badboyhalo, seu companheiro de guerra. Dois veteranos machucados que passaram pelo inferno na vida antes e depois de tudo, que se separaram. Onde q!Badboyhalo vê aquele adolescente já crescido, cheio de cicatrizes, olheiras e traumas e pensa "O que aconteceu com você durante todo esse tempo?".

E me dói muito pensar que apenas agora q!Cellbit encontrou a felicidade e confiança que sempre procurou. Que sendo enfiado a força nessa ilha onde ele foi torturado, enganado pela federação várias vezes; sequestrado; teve partes das suas memórias apagadas do tempo que ele trabalhou ali; sofreu por ter quebrado a sua família na época da traição; foi só nessa maldita ilha que ele conseguiu encontrar pessoas para amar e confiar.

q!Cellbit ama a sua família e faria de tudo por ela. Ele ama o seu filho ao ponto de cogitar desistir de tudo só para que ele tenha um futuro melhor do que ele mesmo teve; ama seu Guapito, que tem sua plena confiança e amor incondicional ao ponto de quase ter uma recaída quando seu relacionamento foi ameaçado.

Seu Guapito, que foi sua âncora. Aquele que confiou e defendeu ele quando todos estavam contra, aquele que lhe deu suporte para tudo o que fizesse. Aquele que q!Cellbit errou, mas foi perdoado e tenta ser alguém melhor todos os dias para não falhar mais.

q!Forever, que confia TANTO nele ao ponto de nem ter interesse de saber uma informação se aquilo por sua família em risco. Aquele que mesmo depois de ouvir tanta merda saindo da boca de q!Cellbit, ainda assim tinha uma ponta de esperança de que era tudo mentira por confiar nele.

q!Tazercraft, que o perdoou mesmo depois de tudo o que ele fez. Depois de ele ter matado o seu amigo, que ajudam ele pois sabem que família é tudo que eles tem.

q!Felps, que é a pessoa que ele mais conhece. Seu melhor amigo, que fez ele ir ao inferno só para achá-lo.

É nessa ilha, com códigos, com uma organização cruel que manipula a todos, com entidades e mistérios inacreditáveis, que ele pode finalmente ter uma vida normal. Ele finalmente pode acordar e tomar um café com seu filho e seu marido, q!Cellbit finalmente pode apenas ficar construindo seu castelo e fazer coisas que ele nunca pôde como um piquenique simples com os outros ovos da ilha.

E quando ele falou para o q!Forever que "Eu não tenho ninguém fora dessa ilha, todo mundo que eu amo está aqui" ele estava certo. Mesmo que estivesse fingindo para se infiltrar, essa frase era totalmente verdade. q!Cellbit não tem ninguém fora da Ilha Quesadilha, ele não tem para quê querer sair dela.

Mas mesmo assim, tudo o que ele quer é que as pessoas que ele mais ama sejam livres. E é isso que eu mais amo nesse personagem. Eu amo como ele sofreu tanto, como ele viu o pior das pessoas e mesmo assim quer o melhor para elas.

Eu amo como ele é falho, como ele faz merda e reconhece. E mesmo quando ele não reconhece e tenta amenizar, para mim isso só faz dele ainda mais real. q!Cellbit é cheio de falhas e cheio de amor, é compreensível, é preocupado com os seus.

q!Cellbit é humano.

[saphronethaleph]

Outside the Throne Room

RK-T glanced over at GD-S.

“So…” RK began.

“Ssh!” GD replied, sharply. “Keep your mouth shut! You know the boss doesn’t like us to, you know, appear human in any way.”

“Boss isn’t here,” RK replied. “Well, he’s here, but he’s not here here. He’s on the other side of that door.”

“He could come out of that door at any time, you know that,” GD said. “We’re supposed to be silent and intimidating. And red.”

“Dude does like red,” RK mused.

He frowned, behind his mask. “Though… I actually wanted to ask. Why exactly do we exist?”

“What are you getting at, man?” GD replied. “We’re… imperial guards. We guard… the Emperor. Literally our only job. It’s in the description.”

“That’s what I’m getting at,” RK said. “We’re imperial guards, and in there right now with the boss is a Jedi. Like… the first one there’s been in decades.”

“Nah, there’s loads,” GD shrugged. “There were like twenty thousand Jedi, you’d never catch all of them.”

“Still, you get my point, right?” RK asked. “Vader goes in there with a Jedi, and the boss tells us to leave.”

GD shifted slightly, his force pike humming. “He’s the boss,” he pointed out. “His word is law. In fact I think his word is imperial dictat which is even more certain than a law, you know.”

“Not what I’m getting at,” RK replied. “He told us to leave. Literally. That’s the biggest threat possible, a rebel Jedi, and he’s told us to leave. And, what’s more… you’ve got to have thought about this yourself, but the boss is also… the boss. Most of the time he doesn’t need bodyguards… it’s not like he’s going to need us to stop him from being beaten to death by a mob, he could just electrocute them all.”

“That… is true,” GD admitted. “Now you’ve got me wondering why we exist at all. Thanks.”

“Sorry,” RK said. “I thought you’d have an answer.”

“Well, I don’t,” GD said, a bit snippishly.

The two red-clad guards stood in silence for a long moment.

“Maybe I should check on him,” RK suggested, and flicked on his comlink.

Then, a few seconds later, flicked it firmly off again.

“Well?” GD asked.

“Boss told the Jedi to kill him,” RK reported. “Then I heard the sound of a lightsaber and the boss laughing. So… I’m going to assume that any kind of, fighting noises or whatever, are his plan.”

GD sighed.

“It would be so much easier to do our jobs if the boss told us about this sort of thing,” he said.

Another pause resulted, this one longer and more awkward.

“Ever wonder if maybe our purpose is just eye candy?” RK suggested. “Looking good while the boss is doing something?”

“That’s depressing,” GD muttered. “But, yeah, that checks out.”

He looked at his force pike. “It’s not like these weapons are going to be much good for actual bodyguarding…”

“They can do the stun thing,” RK pointed out. “There is that.”

“Yeah, which is short ranged and really awkward,” GD answered. “I think I’m coming around to your point of view. If we were supposed to be proper bodyguards we’d have blasters.”

Silence returned, curling around and around like a cat preparing to settle in for a nice nap.

“...seen any good movies lately?” RK asked, eventually.

“This is doing great at maintaining the mystique,” GD groused.

“Do you see anyone to care?” RK replied. “Myself I actually thought the latest Starflare holodrama was good.”

“Isn’t her husband Baron Fel?” GD said, then shook his head. “Great, turns out my weakness is gossip.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll check in on the boss again,” RK offered, reaching up to flick on his comlink, then turned it off again. “Yeah, he’s fine.”

“Fine?” GD repeated. “Is that a proper report?”

“All right, all right, I heard several seconds of someone screaming, then the boss said ‘and now, young Skywalker, you will die,’” RK informed his coworker, copying the Emperor’s voice as best he could. “Is that enough of a report for you?”

“Yeah, whatever,” GD said. “Sounds like he’s having fun, at least… sounds like he might nearly be finished, though. So no time for gossip.”

“Whatever,” RK sighed.

Silence came back for the encore, and the two Red Guards stood either side of the door, defending someone who didn’t need defending from the absolutely nothing that might threaten him.

Then the door hissed open, and Darth Vader came through.

So did the Jedi, supporting Vader on his shoulder, and RK and GD both stared.

“...um,” RK began. “...halt?”

“He’s with me,” Vader replied, his voice strained.

“Where’s the nearest shuttle bay?” the Jedi asked.

RK and GD both pointed, completely unsure what to do, and the Jedi and Vader hobbled off down the corridor.

“Wonder what that was about,” GD said, eventually.

“Attention all decks!” a panicked voice said. “Attention all decks! Rebel fighters have entered the Death Star, they’re headed for the reactor, we can’t stop them!”

Two blank red masks gazed at one another for several seconds, then RK and GD bolted for the shuttle bay.

[guiltyasdave]

end game

series masterlist • this is part VII

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~3.8k

summary: Heartbreak, an explanation and an epilogue.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), angst, feelings, heartbreak, depression, mention of weight loss, fluff, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, sir kink, degradation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v (it's never stated in the fic but i headcanon that reader is on birth control), basically free use kink, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, Dave is a menace, praise kink, idiots in love, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: the biggest thank you to @joelscurls for letting me scream about this again and againnnnn, and reading over my drafts countless times, you’re the best, jess! <3

thank you to @daddy-dins-girl for talking plot holes with me and motivating me to write <3

thank you to everyone who has read and loved this series, i have received sooooo many kind words, feedback and just so much love. i started writing this as a pwp oneshot and the fact that it has turned into my first series ever and one that i had soooo much fun with is wild. i’m incredibly emotional about saying goodbye to my babies, maybe i’ll revisit them when i need to write some kinky shit out of my system haha. i hope that you like the ending that i’ve built for them.

a few words about the plot: i actually have zero clue how the hitman business works (shocker, i know), so some parts of this are purposefully vague in a way that i hope is believable and somewhat realistic. just roll with it, thanks :D

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

find my full masterlist here & follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates.

The first week you don’t hear from Dave, you’re confused, but not necessarily worried yet. There have been weeks of silence in the past, though you’ll admit that you had thought that things might be… different now.

Your texts to him stay on delivered, never switching to read. Which has also happened before, especially when he was away on business, but still… The thought that he has gone back to his normal life without sparing as much as a glance back at your time together is nagging at you.

You can still feel his hands on your skin, can still hear him whisper in your ear how beautiful you look, how perfect you are for him. It’s hard to come to terms with the thought that it wasn’t real, that his words and actions didn’t hold the same weight for him that they did for you. Reality has finally caught up to you and it hurts.

When two weeks blend into three weeks and you’ve still heard nothing, you start getting worried. He had said his line of work was dangerous, after all.

Your conversation, still so close and yet a lifetime ago, echoes in your mind. 'Nothing's gonna happen,’ you had said. ‘Not to the girls, not to me. And not to you.’ And not to you. ‘You don’t know that, sweetheart,’ his voice rings through your head. Sweetheart. The word tastes bitter on your tongue and wraps itself around your chest until you feel like you’re choking with it, like you can’t draw breath into your lungs anymore.

Sweetheart.

You don’t know that.

Sweetheart.

You start looking him up online, to find anything that might at least tell you that he’s okay. You don’t want to believe that he would be cruel enough to ghost you, but you barely dare to consider the alternative. You find nothing, no mention of his name, like he doesn’t even exist.

Your calls stay unanswered, your messages stay unread. You find yourself subconsciously checking your texts and your emails countless times a day, catch yourself staring out of your window in the blind hope that he might appear outside. He wouldn’t just leave you like this, would he? Would he?

Days blur into weeks and eventually into months. You’re painfully aware that it’s not healthy, this kind of heartbreak, especially not over a relationship that never even meant anything. If only your heart would understand that.

It was never serious enough that you told any of your friends about it, never wanted to be labeled as the girl that sleeps with married men, never wanted to admit your feelings to someone else when you could barely admit them to yourself. Regardless, even without knowing what exactly was going on, your friends had tried to be there for you, to convince you to go out with them, to cheer you up, but you had turned them down often enough that on this Friday night, your phone stays silent.

It’s better this way. All you want to do is rot away on your couch, staring at the TV with unseeing eyes until it’s an acceptable time to go to bed. Maybe it won’t take you hours of lying in the dark to fall asleep tonight. Maybe it won’t remind you of a different kind of darkness in a different room, a room where the sound of waves against the shore and the deep breaths beside you lulled you to sleep.

You need to get yourself together, your inner voice whispers. Next week, you think. Or the one after that.

A knock on your door shakes you out of your thoughts and you pad over, expecting to be met with the Chinese takeout that you had ordered in hopes of fueling your appetite at least a bit with the prospect of comfort food. Absentmindedly, you note the surprisingly short delivery time. You barely look up as you swing the door open, busy fiddling with your purse to extract a few dollar bills.

After finally managing to pull them out, you face the doorway. A greeting dies in your throat.

Familiar deep brown eyes burn into yours, framed by the face that you wish you’d forget but can’t. The short brown hair, the clean shaven jawline that you can still feel underneath your fingertips, the memory all too fresh in your mind. He looks tired, you think, and instantly scold yourself for knowing him well enough to even notice.

The seconds tick by as you motionlessly stare at him, blinking slowly, your mind running a mile a minute. Why is he here? He can’t be here. Are you making this up? If so, things are far worse than you had thought.

He clears his throat, shifting his weight uncomfortably. It’s probably the least sure of himself that you’ve ever seen him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his hand twitching like he almost reached out to you but changed his mind. “Can I- can I come in?”

You regard him for a moment longer. The sound of his voice makes him appear more real, and the fog in your head slowly clears. He’s alive. He’s here. In front of your door. Alive and well. Your emotions boil up inside of you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You think you can just show up here after months and ask if you can come in? I thought you were… I thought…”

Your voice betrays you, breaking at the sharp sting of pain in your chest that you’ve fruitlessly tried to suppress and the feeling of your throat closing up. Tears spill over and you furiously wipe at your cheeks, determined to keep some semblance of dignity.

“I know,” Dave breathes, defeatedly. “I’m so sorry. Please let me explain.” His hand reaches towards you again. You shy away from his touch and an expression of hurt ripples across his face. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Your voice only trembles a little as you snap at him. After another look at his face, you eventually step aside and jerk your head towards your living area. You briefly think about how messy the place is, for how many weeks you didn’t have it in yourself to clean up. You can’t bring yourself to care. Seeing him walk through your flat again after being so painfully aware of his absence leaves you almost dizzy. You take the opposite ends of your couch, both of your bodies stiff, careful not to touch one another.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Explain.”

So he explains. How he received a call, barely thirty minutes after he stepped into his house, with a mission that was too perfect of an opportunity to pass it up. There had been no time to let you know, the risk too high to use his personal phone once he started working.

He goes back to the persona that took up half of his life for so long, the identity that is no more, the man that fell down a watchtower and was washed away by the sea. Body never found. At least that’s what everyone who knew this man thinks. Everyone who knew him, but not Dave York.

He’s been thorough with it, with the most important mission he’s ever done. There are no loose ends, no one who could trace things back to the real him.

It took longer than he had anticipated and he kept laying low afterwards, until he could be absolutely sure that no one would be looking for him anymore.

He doesn’t think that he’ll ever get rid of the worry, ever stop looking over his shoulder, but rationally, he knows that he did it. He got out.

Then he had talked to Carol, let her know that he wants a divorce. It had been- easy, almost. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream at him, just nodded like she had known this day would come for a long time. He thinks that she almost seemed relieved, in a way.

Your eyes had been glued to his face since he started speaking. Tears are silently running down your cheeks.

“I know that I should have found a way to contact you. I didn’t-” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t know what to do. I was so worried that someone would find out about you. I never wanted to hurt you, you have to believe that.” He knows that he looks a mess, that his desperation to make you understand is written all over his features.

Every day that he didn’t call you, he knew that he was hurting you. He tried justifying it with himself, that having you think he left you was better than risking somebody coming after you. It never gave him much comfort.

It’s even worse, now that he sees the damage he had done. You have lost weight, deep circles have formed under your eyes and you move like you’re barely holding yourself together. He saw the panic on your face when he tried reaching for you at the door. No matter what he had done to you in the past, you always sought out the safety of his touch afterwards. Until now.

“Please believe me,” he whispers.

You study his face for what feels like a lifetime. Tears are glistening on your lashes. You look so tired, so defeated that it makes his heart ache.

“You’ve done it?” you finally ask. Your voice is a quiet thing, barely bridging the distance between the two of you. A flicker of hope rings with it. “You’re safe now?”

He nods silently, fighting the urge to gather you in his arms, to promise you that he’ll always be there from now on. A small smile curves your lips upward as you mirror his nod, like you’re trying to let this new reality sink in.

“That’s good,” you murmur.

You lean forward, your fingers tentatively closing around his fist that’s clenched tightly against his thigh.

Hope flickers inside his chest. He can taste the three words that he’s been wanting to say to you for far too long on the tip of his tongue. He’s not going to, not right now, not today. But someday soon, he thinks that he might.

Two years later

“Bye girls, say hi to your mom and Matt from me,” you smile, embracing each of them in a tight hug before they dash out of the door, a jumble of giggles and excited chatter. Dave trails behind them with a grin on his face, pecking your lips and calling out for them to slow down.

Your heart is full, overflowing with love for this family that, against all odds, has become yours. You watch Dave usher his daughters into the car and push the doors closed behind them, the smile still on your lips. As you walk back into the house, your eyes linger on the thin silver band adorning your ring finger.

It’s still new, still an unexpected sight when you catch it on the edge of your periphery. It’s the tangible proof of you being the happiest you’ve ever been.

Things had been rough at first, after Dave came back to you. You understood why he handled the situation the way he did, but it took you a long time to trust that he wouldn’t disappear again. To believe that he left his old life behind, that he chose you. But he did.

You busy yourself with cleaning up the inevitable chaos that having the girls over for Dave’s days with them always creates. It’s not the life that you would have expected yourself to have a few years ago, but right now, it feels like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

A few minutes later, your phone pings with a message from Dave.

Be back in 15. I expect you naked and on your knees waiting by the door.

You bite your lip, heat building inside you with rapid speed. Your phone pings again.

Don’t disappoint me.

Fuck. Wetness is already gathering between your legs as you jump into action.

The car door slamming shut has never sounded so good before. You’re listening intently, catching Dave’s heavy footsteps on the stairs and the jingle of his keys before the door opens beside where you’re kneeling.

You look up at him from your place on the floor, watching the mix of smugness and adoration on his face as he takes in your position. A shudder runs through you and your nipples harden under his demanding gaze. He steps closer, caressing your cheek.

“Such a good girl… my obedient little wife, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper, the coherent thoughts slowly draining from your brain and craving more of his touch, more of him.

He smiles down at you, his eyes glinting predatorily. You’ve come to know this shift into the darkness since you first met, but it’s more playful these days, not laced with the urgency that possessed him back then. Still, he gets intense, especially after having the girls over forces you to keep things rather tame during those days.

“Show me your ass, face on the ground, come on,” he demands coldly.

You obey without question, turning around and bending forward, pressing your upper body down to the floor and presenting your backside to him. He lands a couple of slaps on your cheeks and you flinch, moaning out softly. Your pussy already feels slick with arousal.

“What do you say?” he asks, rubbing his hand over the heated skin.

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper.

Another slap hits you. “Do you know what you did to deserve this?”

You wrack your brain for a few moments, but come up blank.

“I- no, sir.” Your voice is small and breathy, your body bracing for the impact of his hand again.

He chuckles. “Nothing. I just felt like it.” Another slap. “And you’re mine to do as I please, isn’t that right?” Your thighs are trembling. You’re so wet that it feels like you’re dripping onto the floor.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“You know what’s the most fucked up about this?” He crouches down beside your face and strokes your cheek softly, smiling down at you. “How much you whore like it.”

He straightens up and heads for the stairs. “Bedroom, come on.”

You don’t even try standing up, knowing that he won’t let you, and crawl behind him, which earns you another chuckle and a “good girl”.

The image of your naked form on your knees behind Dave who hasn’t removed a stitch of clothing sends another bolt of arousal through you. You’re desperate for him to touch you.

He roughly lifts you up and manhandles you onto the bed until you’re spread out underneath him.

“So…” He grabs your wrists and holds them over your head, pressing them into the mattress. “These stay right here, you hear me? Don’t move, or do I have to restrain you?”

You pout at the prospect of not being allowed to put your hands on him, but obediently hold them in place when he eases his grip on you. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

He grins down at you. “I know you will. Got my girl well trained, haven’t I?”

His words make your pussy clench around nothing and your “yes, sir” comes out in a whimper.

He leans in closer, spreading your thighs wider with his body and you force yourself not to buck your hips up against him. The craving for any part of him to touch you, for any kind of friction, is overwhelming.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. Your pleading eyes hold his cold gaze as he’s leaning over you.

“Patience,” he growls. “Open your mouth.” A disapproving click of his tongue. “Wider.”

You part your lips as widely as you can, sticking your tongue out and trying not to squirm against the sheets. He remains motionless for a few seconds, taking in your desperate state with a cruel smirk on his face.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. Then he tips his head forward and spits into your waiting mouth. The filthy feeling of his saliva coating your tongue and filling your mouth almost drives you insane with want and you groan, shifting against his thick thighs between yours, but to no avail. You wait for his next command, your mouth still wide open, not daring to swallow before he tells you to.

But no command comes. Instead, he reaches up to press two fingers down on your tongue, dipping into your mouth and smearing your combined spit over your face. The silver band on his ring finger is cool against your skin and you shudder, loving the reminder that he’s really, entirely yours.

Your body feels like it’s burning up, your hands are twitching and you’re desperate to move them, to touch him, to do something, but you hold yourself still until he finally tells you to, “swallow, baby.”

He smiles and finds your lips for a surprisingly soft kiss, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re being so good,” he tells you gently. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes,” you smile, chasing his lips when he pulls back, but he tuts at you and you fall back against the bed, huffing out a breath. “Just… please.”

“Patience,” he reminds you, the softness gone as quick as it came. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

You bite your lip, but stay put while he stands up to finally start removing his clothes. He’s agonizingly slow with it, holding your hungry gaze while he unbuttons his shirt in unhurried movements that make you want to tear the clothes off his body yourself.

You drink him in, first the sight of his broad chest and his strong shoulders, then his muscular legs, and finally, making your mouth water and your pussy burn with desire, his cock.

As much as he keeps taunting you, you know him well enough by now to be able to tell that he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, even when he’s trying to conceal it. He returns to you, sitting back on his haunches and drinking you in, until after what feels like hours, he finally reaches out and swirls his fingers through the wetness between your legs. It’s a barely there touch, but you’re so painfully turned on and sensitive that you let out a gasp.

“So fucking wet,” he marvels and applies the slightest bit of pressure to your clit. It’s enough to make you see stars and you’re sure that he could make you come just from this. But, of course he won’t. He laughs at your reaction and retracts his hand to lean forward instead until he’s on top of you again, your legs spread wide to accommodate him and his cock slides through your folds.

He lowers his head to nip and suck at the skin under your jaw, one hand toying with your breasts and your hardened nipples. Your whole body is buzzing, he’s so close and it’s so much, but it’s not enough, not enough, not enough.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, peppering your skin with kisses and rocking his hips in small movements that make his cock nudge at your clit over and over.

“F-fuck me, please, I’ll do anything,” you beg, your body still obediently stretched out underneath him with your arms above your head. He nods wordlessly and reaches down to position himself at your soaking entrance.

“Be as loud as you want,” he growls against your neck. “I missed making you scream.”

He bites at your skin at the same time as his thrust into you punches the air from your lungs. You scream, just like he asked, as he hammers into you, his lips still attached to your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. The sensation of finally being filled by him, of feeling the stinging stretch of the way he forcefully pounds into you is like heaven. You think that you’re talking, crying out a mix of his name and sir and please over and over.

You’re flying towards your climax and judging from his groans, he can already feel you tighten around him.

“Go ahead,” he groans, before you’ve even strung the words to ask for permission together in your mind. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

He pinches your nipple just once and the additional sensation is enough to send you flying, your pussy clenching around his cock and drenching him in your arousal as you scream out his name. It’s pure bliss, and you never want to come down.

“That’s it,” he growls, not slowing his movements, fucking you through the aftershocks until you’re a whining mess beneath him, “that’s my perfect girl, fuck-”

You force your eyes open to smile up at him, taking in the wrecked expression on his face, relishing in the knowledge that you’re the one to make him look like this. You just really wish you could touch him.

“P-please, can I-” you’re breathless, barely able to speak, and jerk your head towards your hands above you.

“Yeah,” he rasps, his thrusts somehow growing even more forceful, “do whatever you want, baby.”

Your hands fly towards his body, touching every inch of his skin that you can reach, nails digging into his back and fingers grasping at his hair, pulling him closer, closer, until he’s everywhere, all you can see, all you can taste, all you can feel.

“Fuck!” he swears, grabbing your shoulders and holding you in place as he’s pounding into you, “give me another one, touch yourself, come on-”

His thrusts are becoming erratic and you know that he’s close to his own climax. It only takes a few swipes of your fingers over your clit until you’re coming again, soaring through the heights of your pleasure, your whole body trembling with your release. Dave’s hips stutter and he comes with a shout, pulsing inside of your fluttering pussy until finally, you both still.

He drops his sweat-slicked forehead against your chest, peppering your skin with kisses and engulfing you in the warmth of his arms. After cleaning you up, he moves your bodies until you’re tucked against his side, one arm thrown across his chest while he holds you close.

You’ll never get tired of the feeling of his naked body against yours, of the way he feels like he was made for you. By now, you can admit that he had always felt like this.

“I love you,” he says, lips moving against your hair.

You press your face deeper into his neck. “I love you.”

It’s easy, now. Words that you say every day.

…and i love YOU, thank you for reading! 🤍 if you liked this, a reblog or a comment would absolutely make my day.

[linphd]

Getting caught in their room | NSFW Headcanons

gender neutral

-> As someone bursts in their room, they find you in their bed in a rather surprising situation. Obviously, all the characters are now in 3rd year.

-> Neito Monoma, Hitoshi Shinsou, Katsuki Bakugou.

Neito Monoma

Somehow luckily for you, you were in the 3B building and not Monoma in yours. Sure, he had been the one stupid enough to leave the door unlocked, so when Tetsutetsu walked in to ask to train with his friend, he was the one discovering you almost naked.

His scream obviously attracted others. Monoma quickly arrived -he had gone to Setsuna’s room to get some answers for homework he hadn’t done- and rushed everyone out of his room, telling you he « would get Shinsou involved so they forget. », « I… don’t think he can do that. » you replied.

You weren’t dating him. You just thought hatred made sex exciting and it had been a few months those several years of not standing him were finally benefiting you. So yeah, getting caught as -obviously- Neito Monoma’s booty call wasn’t really nice for you.

Surely he still had something done, because everyone in your class seemed unaware of this situation. It’s only when Shihai, during a joint training within the hero branch, after a little remark from the blonde, spat : « Ah ! At least I don’t sneak at night in campus to get laid. » that you got scared.

Monoma dropped his usual grin, looking genuinely confused. « I… don’t know what you’re talking about ? » making even Shihai disturbed. You checked the rest of 3B, and only a few of them glanced at you and then acted like nothing had happened. Well, surprisingly, Monoma was rather trustworthy with all of this !

Hitoshi Shinsou

It’s actually Denki that entered Shinsou’s dorm uninvited. You were usually very careful, never staying late in his room and him always locking the door. But it was New Year’s Eve, and you were both drunk and not careful the night prior.

You both jumped at the loud noise, waking up as Denki started to scream « HAPPY NEW Y- ohhhhh, you already spent a happy new year, I see…. » he giggled. « Fuck off. » sighed Shinsou, checking if you were still covered enough despite the fact he had pulled the blanket towards him.

« Oh my God, now I’m curious- » the blonde started. « Of course ! » you sighed as well. « Has it been going on for long ? » Shinsou nodded. « Are you guys dating ? » he added. « Uhhhh… not really ? We just don’t see anybody else. » you replied. « Ah ! So you date but don’t wanna say it. » the blonde commented.

Obviously, the noise attracted everyone walking by, unfortunately for Shinsou and you, both still naked under the blanket. « It makes sense. » Kirishima stated. « So much sense ! » Denki added. Sero started to imitate you « Oh, Shinsou, you became so much stronger ! Ohhhh, your quirk is so impressive ! »

Denki added another commentary to Sero’s impression : « When they were sucking his dick they were doing it for real too ! » All the boys laughed, making Shinsou throw a pillow at them -despite being rather amused. « Now get out so I can finally dress up. » you said, making them rush out.

Katsuki Bakugou

Obviously, you were the one dumbass leaving the door unlocked. First thing Kirishima said was « makes sense » when he saw you laying there, under the sheets, obviously naked, while Katsuki was brushing his teeth.

He immediately called the rest of the Bakusquad, each of them less shocked than the other. « That’s why his room was forbidden ; so we wouldn’t walk on (Y/N) naked. », « Ohhhh that’s why they have privileges and can make fun of him without consequences. », « Elementary my dear Sero, the consequences are in bed. » Mina added.

« CAN YOU ALL SHUT UP AT ONCE ?! » Katsuki yelled from his bathroom, not seeming really surprised at the discovery -still furious though. « That’s why you’ve been so calm compared to our 1st year. You didn’t grow up, you just weren’t a frustrated teen anymore ! » Denki commented.

« Sooooo…. Y’all have been dating since when ? » Mina asked. « Yep, surely not Bakugou would have a booty call. Now, spill the beans. » the blonde added. You sighed. « Since the beginning of this year. Now get out so I can change. » you replied, making them all leave.

However, you didn’t know that Katsuki’s behavior was just a facade. As soon as you went to shower, he stepped out of his room and exploded each of his friends’ face, making Denki dumb in the process. A few threats and explosions later, the whole rest of the school is still unaware of your relationship.

[holidaywishes]

a hard loss

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: uhm i don’t know if your requests are open i’m sorry if they’re not but i would love a fic where auston has like a really shitty loss and he’s pissed and you just get absolutely railed 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Warning: smut, really basic dirty talk, pretty self-explanatory I think 😊

Author's Note: This one was from an anon WAYYYYY back, so hopefully they find it and are still interested lol. I'm sorry it's taken so long but life gets in the way of things sometimes. Anyway! Here is this little fic. Enjoy! Also, part four of Hate Sex is finally up so find that and enjoy it, if you want 😜 <- you can tell how long it's been since I wrote this because Hate Sex part four has been up for a while now 😂

Fun Fact: I started writing this in the back of an Uber almost a year ago now and only had time to follow through with it now 😅, so I apologize for the long wait but hey! we got something lol.

masterlist

the other masterlist

xx

They made it to the playoffs again. But you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop because, well, it’s Toronto. It didn’t take long and Auston came over to your house in a fuming rage

“Okay, let’s take a breath before we break something” you said calmly when he flung open your door to let himself in

“Take a breath? Did you see what the fuck happened?” He shouted

“Honestly?” you winced, “no.”

“Seriously?!”

“I was working! I couldn’t watch the game,” you admitted, “I’m sorry. I heard it was rough though”

“Gee, thanks for the update”

“Auston, sit down,” you shook your head, gesturing to the sectional beside him. You understood why he was so worked up, they would always get so close before ultimately coming up short; you felt bad for him but you didn’t know what to say to make him feel better. “What do you need?” was all you could think to ask

“What?” he questioned, leaning his elbows on his knees and dropping his head to hands briefly

“I don’t know what to say to make you feel better so,” you continued, “is there something I can do?” He smirked as he corrected his posture, bringing you between his legs silently

“Oh there’s definitely something you can do” his smirk grew to a grin while his hands gripped your ass and his face buried in your chest. Of course, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes when his head was down.

Sex. It’s always that simple.

You placed your forefinger under his chin to lift it, catching his lustful stare once his eyes found yours. The moment was charged but you decided to take it slow, taking your time removing his shirt and kissing his neck as you undid the button of his pants, unzipping the zipper almost tauntingly. Auston had other plans. He tore off your shirt and nearly ripped off your fleece shorts before pushing you onto the couch; your eyes grew wide as his narrowed. He kissed you harshly as his hand pushed down your underwear and your body jerked toward him. He let his hand slowly move up your thigh while your breathing increased, your chest moving up and down at the sensation he was giving you. When you finally caught his eye again, you could tell from his smirk that this wasn't going to be a "romantic" night, it's not what he needed - this was all about letting off steam - so you grabbed his shoulders to pull yourself up onto his lap and took at least one small moment of sweetness before you were bent over the back of the couch. Your back arched as he pulled your hair and thrust into you quickly, his moans louder with each intense push while you gripped the couch to steady yourself.

“Fu-uck” you screamed out, voice catching as his thrusts grew harder and his hands moved from your hair to grab your hips. You felt his nails digging into your skin as you pushed back into him,

“You like that?” Auston said breathlessly as your moans turned to whines as you took all of him in, “take it, my little slut.” You weren’t one for dirty talk and neither was Auston, so his words took you a bit by surprise, leading you to attempt to turn your head to face him before he slapped your ass harshly; you let out a yelp coated in pleasure and his pace increased again once more. The sound of spanking echoed through your living room and Auston would continue his dirty talk, “fuck yeah, take my big cock you dirty slut”

“Fuck me,” was all your mind could come up with to say in return but it led Auston to grab your hair again and pulled your back to his chest, his hand then moved to your neck as the two of you moved in tandem, breathing harshly, before you looked into his eyes, hand lightly against his that was resting on your neck, “harder, daddy,” you finally said as you allowed his hand to tighten around your throat. You kept your eyes trained on him as best you could while he choked and fucked you from behind.

“That’s it, baby, keep looking at me,” he said with a smirk, his voice rough like a growl, “I want you to look at me as I make you cum.” His grip never got too tight around your neck which allowed your head to lob back onto his shoulder and your hands to reach back to his waist, keeping your bodies close so that the sensations of him inside of you could be intense for the both of you. Your eyes drifted away from his for a second and he tightened his grip around your neck and increased his thrusts just enough to grab your attention one last time, “I said keep looking at me.” Your pleasure grew more with each tug at your throat and each movement of your hips into his.

“Fuck,” you breathed, eyes still locked on his, “cum with me. Fuck, baby I’m coming.” Your eyebrows moved together as you struggled to keep your eyes on Auston as he requested and your moans took over as his grip around your throat tightened for a moment while he came inside you. He kissed your neck gently before kissing down your back and turning you around to face him, picking up his shirt along the way to wrap it around you as if to return to the gentle man you knew him to be

“Was that okay?” He blushed, holding your hands in his and you smiled shyly

“What do you mean?” you giggled, “of course it was okay, was it not okay for you?”

“I mean the words,” he clarified, “you know I don’t think of you that way right? Like a.. slut” his hesitation led you to place your hand on his cheek and kiss his lips softly

“I know, baby,” you smiled, “it was in the moment”

“I love you” he added, bringing you to sit on the couch as he kissed your shoulders and your cheeks

“I love you, too” you smiled, bringing his face to yours to kiss him slowly before thinking to yourself ‘maybe this was how losses should always be handled…’

[mogamuncher]

Heeeey I'm back again with another tidbit of the Slay the Knight AU (AKA: the Re:Zero and Slay the Princess crossover au)

Anyways due to some of y'all's amazing suggestion, I think I have a lot more ideas to rave about rn, mostly about the voices, but also some about the different Barus that this au would have!

Ok so, first the voices:

Voice of the Hero - Voice of the Noble: Julius.

Voice of the Contrarian - Voice of the Opposed: Ram

Voice of the Opportunist- Voice of the Cunning: Anastasia

Voice of the Cold - Voice of the Shut-in: Beatrice

Voice of the Paranoid - Voice of the Troubled: Otto

Voice of the Stubborn - Voice of the Proud: Priscilla

Voice of the Hunted - Voice of the Protector (shield, get it?): Garfield

Voice of the Cheated - Voice of the Wronged: Felt

Voice of the Skeptic - Voice of the Cynic: Pick

Voice of the Smitten - Voice of the Devoted: Rem

Voice of the Broken - Voice of the Selfless: Reinhard

I think that's all the voices but I might be wrong. . Uhhh anyways here they all are! Again a lot of these are from suggestions, but I really liked them! Some names are still iffy (Felt and Garfiel could definitely be improved upon I think) but I do like the character placements!

My favorite thing to think about is which route these voices will interact with, since all the Barus will be very. . . Interesting.

Speaking of the Barus, here's some ideas I had for their princess equivalents, with pictures!

So, first, to get it out of the way: The Witch

100% Wrathbaru, there's not a single bone in my body that says otherwise. The Witch route is all about distrust, it's all about how you betrayed the Princess and so she betrayed and beat up you, there's even a reference to the Frog and the Scorpion fable in her route, a fable all about trusting someone only to get hurt in doing so. Hell, the characteristic voice for her route is Voice of the Opportunist, who's singlehandedly the voice that should be trusted the least

Meanwhile in the Wrath IF route, Wrathbaru was specifically incredibly paranoid and distrustful to the point where he stopped seeing color, only ever seeing color in people who he fully trusted, mainly because he knew for certain where they stood emotionally when it came to him either through consistency across loops (Beatrice and Emilia) or because he knows that they just hate him (Ram and also kinda Emilia)

The point is, Wrathbaru absolutely would be the Witch equivalent, if only for the themes alone, though he's a lot somber than the very playful Witch.

Also, catboy Wrathbaru, enough said.

Though if Wrathbaru is The Witch then The Thorn will definitely be really interesting

I like to think that Wrathbaru in the Thorn would still be very jumpy and paranoid, instead of the gentle show of trust in the og game, Emilia (The Long Quiet) would have to drag Wrathbaru out of those vines kicking and screaming

Having Rem, Julius and Anastasia harassing Echidna (The Narrator) about describing a kiss with Wrathbaru would be absolutely hilarious though, absolutely peak fiction

Now, let's please talk about The Damsel

So, we can like, all agree that this is arc 1-2 Baru, right? Just straight up that Subaru, but with more bimbo energy

Rem here would be fun, though she probably wouldn't say things in the exact same manner the Smitten does, she can still be really funny with her Subaru crush, as seen in the snow special

Ok, so like, we got the Damsel figured out, cool.

Now, Happily Ever After, on the other hand

Ok so this is pristine cut content, so definitely some big spoilers, but:

Greebaru. Just, 100%, 1000% Greedbaru coded. There's not a single princess that could ever rival the Greedbaru-ness of this princess in the entire game

Just, him and Emilia being literally controlled the entire time, the idea of Echidna slowly growing disillusioned as the route goes on as she sees where her meddling will take her, the constant repetition and Subaru's desperation that doing things again and again will fix it, the fact that REM I would be the one orchestrating all of this???

Just, how utterly miserable everyone is inside of this route, it's simply Greed IF core. Everyone knows that Greed IF is the IF where no one gets to be happy despite everything technically being "alright", which is exactly the vibes that this route has!

Also, going from Arc 1-2 Subaru to Greed IF Subaru would be such a drastic jump, I love it

Greebaru would be a lot calmer than the og princess in this route, think lots of fake smiles and call insistance that slowly becomes hysterical desperation

Also, dancing with Greebaru under the stars, enough said

For other standouts:

The Den

We get to have a full monster Baru!

He'll probably be a chimera type beast that's a ground dragon (Petrasche reference ayy) mixed with a rabbit (hah) with a big horn on his forehead and Cappella-esque wings

There's no way to really stick his iconic slicked back hair on a rabbit head without it looking a bit goofy, so I propose we let Subaru grow his hair out and have it down for this one

The Razor:

For some reason I cannot possibly describe to you, I keep thinking of her equivalent being Pridebaru. No seriously do not ask me why, I don't know either

Maybe it's because she's the most affably murder happy one? Then again there's the Adversary. . . Anyways if she were to be Pridebaru then I suggest an added fire motif, along with the blades

The blades can mainly stay due to the association with Elsa, in fact, maybe this Baru can specifically only ever target Emilia's guts when he goes to skewer her

Also Mutually Assured Destruction

That entire interaction will be hilarious now. Rem finding this beautiful, Priscilla saying it's the perfect man, Ram wondering if he can be thrown out of a window??? Mwah, perfection

I also would like if there was a fire motif there, maybe he can also he on fire

The Nightmare

My beloved, because he would mean we get to hear Otto do the "Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves" chant, but also I have no clue what Baru he would even be

Maybe Gluttony??? A Moment of Clarity would make Gluttony an interesting pick here, but I don't know for sure

Other than that I'm still brainstorming ideas, and ofc taking suggestions, so feel free to tell me what y'all think!

Edit: It is done! I've written the first Chapter of this au, go see it here

[uplatterme]

a/n: im putting the warnings first this time because the writing style is a bit different. also, it really isn’t clear what actually happened to sohreh so this whole thing is just a fun interpretation is all.

cw: violence, murder, dark content (this is insane, like actually. please read with caution) | sub!zandik, zandik!dottore, gender-neutral terms and pronouns but reader has a cock, exhibitionism, semi-public sex

———

Journal Entry No. XX (Recorded on: ??-??-??)

—Written By: (Dastur Sohreh)

These reports seemed to have been stained heavily with bodily fluids. Certain words are unreadable.

—The team consisted of renowned students of the Akademiya, including; Sohreh, Zandik, XXXX, and XXXX. This team was led by Sage Shanarma and Senior ▇▇.

Each one had brought something new to the plate, despite not getting along at first due to different views on the decisions that the team followed. Notably, from Zandik, whose suggestions seemed to be far too dangerous to even try, that was immediately shut down without even a second thought.

However, Senior ▇▇ always heard him out and always stood by his side whenever there were arguments. Rumors spread throughout the team about their supposed relationship.

Being scholars of the Akademiya meant that we should always rely on facts rather than meaningless accusations. Once I told them of this, the gossip was never brought up.

▇▇ was kind to everyone, even to me. They would always assist me whenever I had trouble walking because of the heat.

I had an ominous feeling that someone was glaring at me from behind whenever I was helped, but when I turned around, there was no one but the forest itself.

Perhaps, it was just my anxiety acting up from feeling as if I wasn’t contributing much to the group. ▇▇ reassured me I was doing just fine.

—I trusted ▇▇’s words about Zandik. I once found myself exploring the jungle with him and even though the start of our expedition proved that we had nothing in common, he opened up interesting topics to discuss, ranging from plants and animals to the current evolution models.

I found myself being taken aback by him, the way he spoke showed off his clearly high intellect. His appearance is also quite attractive. I sometimes matched my gaze with him intentionally and he would return it with a smile that made my heart flutter.

Unfortunately, I grew distant from Senior as I relied on this information to them. They said encouraging words about Zandik and I’s relationship but their eyes looked saddened, almost empty the longer I observed them.

They never approached me after that and the only time they would talk to me is if I approached them first.

Maybe it was true that there was a past relationship between Zandik and Senior ▇▇? If there was, it didn’t seem to matter to Zandik anymore as he agreed when I suggested that we should go on a picnic tonight.

The picnic was lovely but I couldn’t get the feeling off my back that someone was watching us together.

———

The next writings are written with blood, the writing is shaky and incomprehensible as if it was written with pure desperation.

You let out an amused sigh, taking your pen out from the drawer under your stable.

“Such a shame, Sohreh. You didn’t even get to finish this note. Should I help you out?”

You tapped the pen on the table, wondering where to start.

———

You commended your patience at the time. Seeing Zandik with someone else and not doing anything about it? You honestly couldn’t believe it.

It was obvious that he didn’t like the attention he was receiving. That’s what you told yourself, at least. You couldn’t figure out what it was that he was using Sohreh for.

Then again, he was never the one to just simply spit out answers without a price.

There wasn’t exactly a label between you two. So perhaps you shouldn’t even be jealous to begin with. 

Oh, please.

The expedition was going far too smooth for your liking anyways.

The violent and loud mechanic noises rang in your ears. There were screams all coming from the team, wondering what it is that they should do.

Yet, out of all the horrified faces on each of them, one stood out.

A face of shock that soon turned into a gleeful one, excited for something new. Knowledge, that would soon quench his thirst at the moment.

He was truly an eccentric one. 

You smiled as he took a step forward, and eventually, those slow steps hastened, running to the ruin guard instead of backing away.

The scholar beside you, however, still hadn’t reacted. Sohreh’s shaking. The poor thing was terrified, legs giving up and failing to notice the ruin guard eyeing her way.

You could pull her away in time if you wanted to. There was enough time to keep her out of harm’s way.

If only she listened to those rumors.

The ruin guard had attacked Sohreh, her body flopping to the floor. The sound of bones breaking stood out from the screaming and metallic noises.

You clap your hands together, gaining the attention of everyone.

“Zandik’s trying to fix the problem right now. Everyone, focus on your surroundings, don’t make unnecessary movements that’ll trigger more reactions.” You directed, ignoring the groaning of the woman below your knees.

Suffice to say, each one was horrified. There were minor injuries that the others had gotten but nothing severe. You could see how grateful they were that they didn’t end up like Sohreh, who was now laying on the ground, in dire need of medical treatment.

In the end, these scholars only valued themselves.

“Senior? What should we do?” One of them had asked, bearing a pathetic look on their face, avoiding the gruesome state of the body placed on a picnic blanket that somebody had found.

“We will return at once.”

Zandik stepped in front of you, not agreeing with that choice.

“Should we not bring this machine back to the Akademiya? I can guarantee that this can prove to be useful in different ways! It’s the first we’ve seen of this kind.” He enthusiastically said.

The others did not appeal to that thought.

It seemed that these scholars did not value the life that was slowly withering away next to them, choosing to argue instead of seeking the medical attention that Sohreh clearly needed.

“Are you insane? That thing cannot be brought back to the Akademiya! It will spur chaos with the sages!”

“And you have seen my prowess, have you not? I was the only one with the slightest clue on how to keep it dormant while you stood there like cowards!” Zandik angrily shouted back, biting his teeth together.

This silenced the arguing. He was right and everyone knew that. Without his help, who knew what else could have happened instead?

You sighed at the useless bickering. The priorities of these people were laughable.

“We’ll have to hear from the Sages, Zandik,” You reassured.

“Meanwhile, as Sohreh cannot travel. I’m requesting everyone to seek help from the Akademiya, a healer preferably, or anyone that you could reach out to as quickly as you can.”

“Well, aren’t you just as mischievous as before?” Zandik stated, no longer keeping his thoughts as everyone besides you two had left to get assistance.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Is that how you want to take this conversation?” He huffed, walking towards you—no, walking towards Sohreh.

He examined her body, guts almost slipping out of her torso, her right leg dislocated. Her blood seeped to the picinic blanket that they had used during their date.

It was honestly a miracle that she was still breathing at this point.

And almost as if she could hear your thoughts. Sohreh’s eyes opened, directly facing Zandik.

“Z-Zandik?” She mustered out, coughing and spitting out blood from her throat.

“It’s alright, I’ve taken care of the ruin guard.”

“Of course, you would have… You’re the only capable one here.” She joked.

You stayed quiet, listening in on the conversation. You doubted she even knew that you were here.

“Are you…going to help me out?” She asked and Zandik only answered with that picture-perfect smile that he always wore when he wanted something.

The man fixed her hair, moving them away from her eyes.

“Show me.” He said.

“Wha—?!”

Zandik’s right hand went for her throat, pressing deep. Her vocal cords getting too damaged for her to even scream.

She flailed her arms around, trying to escape the scholar’s grip. Sohreh was confused by the man’s new behavior. She was mouthing out several words that fell silent.

Her reactions were quite beautiful. Sohreh had always been expressive, putting everything on her sleeve. It would make sense that he wanted a better view when he finally ended this whole thing.

It was then that she decided that she couldn’t escape from this man alone. She needed someone, anyone to help her. Her eyes scouted the empty forest when she saw a familiar hair color.

“S-Senior!” She choked out, her voice hoarse and ruined.

“Zandik.” Once he heard his name being called out, he stopped.

He stared at you, those eyes that only focused on him. Oh, how grateful he was that you two were the only ones here.

Zandik dropped the woman without a care, her whole body trembling from barely escaping death. She was glad that you had intervened before it was too late.

“You shouldn’t use your dainty hands for something like this, Zandik.” You cooed and got up from your seat, approaching him.

You took his hands, bringing them to your lips, kissing them softly.

Sohreh couldn’t believe what was happening right in front of her eyes. Dainty? He had almost killed her and yet you were treating him as if he was porcelain?

“I missed this. Don’t you also?” You tilted your head as you asked him, Zandik blushing deep from your affection.

“Of course.”

“Why don’t you prove it?”

Sohreh watched in pure agony, she could barely move and even if she did, she wouldn’t get far. The pain was too much to bear to even try. Her wounds grinded against the rocky and dirty ground whenever she breathed too hard.

She could hear her organs slushing as if they were jelly. She didn’t know if it was because the whole thing made her senses more aware or if it was like that in reality.

The worse part was that you and Zandik didn’t pay any attention to her. As if you two were already set that she would die in her state, as if she was a dying cockroach that lay beneath your feet.

“You don’t know how insufferable it was holding myself back, Zandik.” You said, trailing kisses on his chest.

“To think you’d be so touchy with someone else. You really are a slut, aren’t you?” You spat out before biting his skin, your teeth going so deep that blood dripped down to his stomach.

God, Zandik could have finished right then and there.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to.” He apologized, face pouting as he said.

You chuckled at his expression. “You liar, I know you liked the attention.”

“I only like attention when it’s coming from you.” He refuted, snugging his head to your chest.

“Yeah? How could I be sure about that?”

He unbuttoned his pants, showing off everything to you. “Look at what you’ve done. Already so wet for you. I’m your slut, not anybody else’s.”

“Ah, Zandik. You know just the right words to say.” You laughed.

He grinded himself on your leg, rubbing his groin as he stared into your eyes. Lewd noises slipped out of his throat, missing how you took care of him. You pat his head and immediately, you received a whimper from Zandik.

You enjoyed the noises that Zandik made, huffs and breaths of your name as he pleasured himself with your body, begging for more.

Unfortunately, that was hindered by a scream from Sohreh whose throat you were sure would render her to never speak again. Not that it mattered, since there was no way she would be coming out of this forest alive.

You held onto Zandik’s thigh, stilling him in disappointment. “As much as I do love hearing you scream for mercy, I’m busy right now.”

She glared at you, obviously wanting to curse you out.

“However, you do remember that we’re not the only ones in this forest. I hear tigers have pretty good hearing. Ah, but you probably already knew that, being a student of Amurta and all.”

Once you reminded her, you could see fear strike in her eyes. To think she would be afraid of tigers more than you. How stupid really.

Zandik placed his ass on your lap, wanting your eyes on him.

“Need you.” He said.

“I’m sure you can do it by yourself now, no?” You answered, a flustered Zandik coughed, remembering the last time he tried to ride you.

Carefully and slowly, Zandik placed the tip of your cock near his entrance. He grit his teeth together, already feeling your warmth inside him when you’re still not all the way in.

An idea formed in your head. 

“Love, can you face the other way?” You asked him.

Zandik couldn’t believe that you’d only tell him this right now when he’s almost done taking in your whole length. 

Well, he could, being mean to him was your forte and he enjoyed every part of it.

He rolled his eyes back from taking you out, feeling empty.

Zandik’s back is now faced against you. You could see his hole open up as he inserted your cock inside of him.

“I’m feeling nice, Sohreh. So, I’ll give you a lesson on how to properly use Zandik.”

Zandik bounced against your thighs, moaning each time he slapped skin with you. “Haah~” 

“I’ve rammed into him so many times and he’s still just as sensitive. Isn’t he great?”

Zandik whined in agreement, hearing you praise and show him off to someone else extremely turning him on.

Sohreh could only look in horror, seeing the man he admired of, moving like an animal in heat, desperate for his senior’s cock.

“See here, if you give him a slight spank.” You continued, slapping the side of his ass as gently as you were able to.

Zandik yelped, cum leaking out of his cock.

He faced down lower, gasping for air as he could feel another orgasm coming.

“P-Please–! Let me–ah!”! He pleaded your name asking for permission, which you were proud to give.

His entire body shuddered as he came, cum splattering everywhere, even to the half-dead person on the ground.

“You did so good, Zandik.”

“T-Thank you…!” He squeaked out.

Sohreh wanted to vomit, you two were insane. If the Akademiya had access to this information then—!

Her hands searched for the notepad in her pockets. With no other option, she used the blood leaking out excessively from her body.

“What are you doing?”

Sohreh tried to hide away the evidence but it was stolen quickly. 

“You really are amazing. To think you’re still alive right now, even when I purposely let you get hit by that ruin guard.”

She stared in confusion. This whole thing…was your fault?

“Oh, don’t blame this on me. You were the one who went after Zandik. I’d say this makes us even, doesn’t it?”

Your hand reached for her neck, matching the bruises that Zandik had left earlier.

You squeezed hard, Sohreh losing the strength to even fight back. 

Realizing that you had gone too far, you snapped out of your daze, quickly apologizing to Zandik.

“Sorry! Did you have business with her still?”

Zandik swallowed the lump in his throat, amazed at how your muscles flexed when you strangled the body.

He could feel himself getting hard again, everything you do really, sent a rushing thrill to his spine.

“C-Could you do that to me?”

You slammed yourself into Zandik’s walls, the scholar moaning in pleasure as his back laid down on the corpse which was now used as a cushion as he pleasantly received your thrusts.

The body turned into a mess as you continued pounding in him roughly and as quickly as you can, knowing that you two had only so much time before someone else got here.

“M-More! More!” Zandik begged, his head rolling back from the intense sensations.

“As you wish, love.”

[glassrowboat]

From the Past. Dottore.

Summary: What is the most wretched thing, the one we read about in books as they spell out horror after horror? Well, to Dottore, it's losing you. So even as he curses himself for being selfish, he takes a clawed hand in his own and grips it so tightly it can't even threaten him with the idea of being pulled away.

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: Gore, psychological torture implied, toxic dynamic, and Dottore. Yes, he is a warning.

Authors note: The doctor and reader were not in a romantic relationship previous to the contents of this fic.

The sounds of wailing screams must have stopped hours ago now as Dottore walked back into the lab, the silence he was met with almost startling compared to the banging fists and pleas for help that filled the air as he left. That is if he didn't already expect this outcome. To the doctor this is just another day like any other, even as the screech of metal dragging against the floor hit his ears, a black line worn into the ground from the amount of times he's opened and closed this particular cell. 

Just another thing to fix later.

Dottore didn't even flinch as the smell of blood hits his nose in waves. Far too used to it to be nauseated now he walks through the door, bits and pieces of flesh coating the walls as blood reached high enough to cake the ceiling. The sound of a drip, drip, drip melodic. Though none of that mattered compared to the sight of a messy head of hair, the light slipping through the door way just enough to illuminate the figure that sat there as she turned to look at him.

“It appears you have outdone yourself again, my favorite test experiment. Did you have fun while I was gone?” Judging by the fact there's barely any remains to be had of the live test subject he threw in there with her, the answer had to be yes. 

“I did.” Ahh, simple and to the point as always. Or at least as it always is now. “Welcome back Dottore.”

“Glad to be back.” Smiling down at her he offered what could barely be called a woman anymore a hand. She may have appeared just as she did once upon a time but the blood covering her mouth was a clear indication as to otherwise. Such a sweet little face so clearly hiding a brutal and ravenous creature only he truly knew the extent of. “Now that you are fed-”

Without even bothering to accept his hand she was right in front of him in an instant. Matted hair tickling Dottore's neck as she leaned in. There was no point to be startled, or to even act afraid, not when he knew this one would never hurt him. He was confident in that.

The quick sound of a sniff however still had him looking down at her with a raised eyebrow though. “You smell like the other harbingers. Were you in a meeting again?”

Dottore chuckled softly at her question. After all, a day (y/n) actually chose to converse was a good day in his books. “Yes, I did just attend meeting with the other harbingers,” he replied, his breath brushing over her cheek. “And what is to you if I did?”

“Well,” her eyes fell down to the floor, a sight one could almost miss in the dark room. “You used to tell me when you were busy. Now you just leave without a word.”

We used to be so much closer.

“Right.” Dottore grumbled. “Things have changed. My priorities have changed; I'm sure you understand. I can't be with you all the time anymore.” He has work to do, tests to run, papers to write, just…things that keep him busy over all.

Waiting for a moment Dottore looked down at her, waiting for that sharp tongue he had grown so used to. A comment along the lines of: ‘well maybe if you had told me of this before you wouldn't come across as such a prick.’ Yet the woman leaning into him said nothing of the sort, no sharp bite to share. Not this time.

Of course she wouldn't.

“Let's get you cleaned up, dear.” Placing his hand on the small of her back Dottore led her out the cell. It wasn't meant to keep her captive anyway. She wouldn't go anywhere even without a door that screeched in sheer agony everytime I was forced open locking her in. 

The remains of what was once her meal left behind as he pushed her towards the small wash station right up until she was standing under the shower head. He didn't even bother to warn her as he turned the water on, already knowing she wouldn't mind. The freezing water beat down on her in a way that would have Dottore shivering in her place if their positions were swapped, but she barely showed a sign of recognizing what just happened.

There were no complaints of the cold to be had as she hissed at him about being a bitch. Simply standing there. Watching. 

“Are you really so unbothered by this?” Why did he even ask that, he already knew the answer. Maybe, just maybe the sound of the water would drown out the pointless question, but he knew it wouldn't. 

Dottore already made sure of that long ago. (Y/n), something that was somehow more than and less than human all at once. Needles that once filled her skin now having marked her skin with scars that were slowly being revealed as the blood washed off of her, swirling and pooling on the floor. Seconds passing by as the stark red faded to pink. It'll be clear soon enough.

“I'm fine. Just need a change of clothes.”

“Of course,” he sighed, watching as bits of flesh fell from the folds of her shirt that would have to be fished out of the drain later. “I'll have that settled soon. Just wash off, I don't need you dirtying the lab again.”

A small mutter of a “thank you” could be heard as he turned on his heel, already knowing not to bother to search for any trace of light in her like had used to so many times before. Humanity long since forgotten even before the first time she tore her teeth into a test subjects flesh. At least this time she didn't ask to be allowed to hunt her prey down. 

It was so easy to forget the woman she once was when you look at her now, the name Siearra seemingly almost belonging to an entirely new person. If that is something she call still be called to this day. He certainly wouldn't say it was the best description for her.

These old tile floors his shoes clicked on as he walked to fetch her something to change into had once reflected a woman who would easily poke and prod at him with words alone. How something he once considered so annoying could be endearing now is beyond him.

Nostalgia, such an easily blinding tool.

If she said something like that today…well, she wouldn't even dare. No calling him out for being a jerk, the guts to snap back at him the instant something proved to be displeasing almost vanished into thin air. She truly had changed, just as was intended. These days she is monstrous, can tear through a carcass with ease. She is a pride of his, a true show of just how much his work has come to grow, so there's no point missing her old self. This is simply a change of behavior as any human being would exhibit after being put through-

Dottore stopped for a moment, tongue clicking as he realized just what was going on through his head. Self rationalization? Now? Pointless. There may be memories of (y/n) curled up in a corner of his lab before one of the few heaters, but that is simply the past. It doesn't matter if he and gotten used to her presence there, had begun to expect it. It doesn't matter that if he would comment on her habit of trying to steal the warmth all for himself she would tell him “be a good little scientist and discover this thing called a coat then.”

How he had to bite back a smile, had to bite back from saying “you could have just asked for a blanket you know.”

Enough of this.

Quickly grabbing a change of clothes for her Dottore turned back to the monster that was now before him. This was (y/n) now, no matter how alike they may look. The figure sitting down on the floor with a fluffy towel draped over her shoulders and still wet hair dripping droplets onto her skin was the present.

How she looked so much like a cowering animal as she sat there simply waiting for him to return. Before Dottore could even stop himself playful words tumbled out of his mouth. “You really need to learn how to dry your hair properly, dear. You look like a rat.”

And just how she'd always respond to his snark these days followed suit, a simple “okay.” He shouldn't have expected anything else.

Things truly have changed.

“Put on your clothes already. I don't need you catching a cold,” he snapped.

“Right. Sorry.” Getting up off the floor she slipped the clothes on, so numb seemingly to every little thing. There was no strong sense of dignity from her. (Perhaps stripped the moment he first heard her begging for the pain to stop and Dottore simply told (y/n) to shut up and push through like a good experiment). 

“Don't apologize to me, just do things right the first time.” He could see her slowly mouth opening, most likely to apologize again. “I just ask of you to follow orders.” There wasn't a point to look at her to know she was nodding so instead he sat down, the old chair slotted behind the old workbench working well enough for now as he sighed. No matter how much he tried to calm down she had such an ability to rile him up. Silence or her old snark, it was all the same.

She once looked upon him so sweetly as another one of those novels were in those hands, some flowery title he didn't bother to remember printed over the cover. The anemones that were so intricately drawn however were a different story. How she cooed over the main love interest even as Dottore told her multiple times he wasn't interested in hearing about her love for romance.

(Y/n) ignored him easily, still chatting away to the point he had almost managed to tune her out between the catching of a quil on paper. That is until she playfully remarked “one day I'll find my perfect match just like in this story and then I'll run off and get married.” The rest of what she said didn't matter, not at that moment. To run off with someone and just leave him. That's what she had implied.

“Come here.” He ordered, now addressing the monster that sat a few feet away from him.

And just like he had forced her to, how he might as well have programmed into (y/n)’s once human brain, she obeyed. The skirt of the dress she had only just thrown on a moment prior dragging under her, halting and stalling the woman's movements as she crawled over to him. There was no dignity to be had, no pride, no hint of who she once was. Not even as she hung her head in front of him.

What a good girl.

“Look at me.”

His little monster, his prized experiment, his masterpiece, his dead look in her eyes that slowly settliled on him. Hesitantly so. This was how it was meant to be. It didn't matter of thoughts of doubt were running through her mind, if she was waiting to be thrown either a bone or her death penalty, all because now she can't leave. There's not a choice in the matter.

Perhaps he'd mourn the woman she once was, wish for her attitude to come back and hope to hear a comment or two that would remind him of her. But what would the lack of what once was do besides fill him full of unwelcome memories he doesn't want to recall no matter how much both of them still clung to their past?

“Have you realized your place in life yet? It's quite obvious but I want to hear you say it.” 

Without missing a beat the little creature he made her be whisper out, “by your side.”

Yes, exactly. She's finally learned. And if she dared say anything else? Well, that's just another thing to fix now.