#he should stop drinking xd

[zu-is-here]

The unknown magician ★ Underfell birthday!

Ink by comyet

and his mew mew Fell by underfell

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Request for Rooster please :) basically fluff, not sure if you have something like this already but something along the line of y/n being a pilot as well, Rooster falling for them and trying to potentially impress them? Trying to confess before his chance is loss because he sees hangman around y/n time to time but Rooster doesn’t find out (immediately) that hangman and y/n are siblings so Rooster is torn between confessing or not (he does end up confessing)

Ahh thank you for the super cute request! I have a thing for writing sisters, you know ;)

Worst Day Ever

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Seresin Sister!Reader

CW: Just a lil drabble, nothing fancy. A little cheesy. A bit fluffy. A lot goofy. The star of this show is Nat XD

WC: ~1100

“This is the worst day ever.”

Natasha looks over at Bradley as he moodily packs up his things at the end of the briefing. She grins in amusement. “You sound like a toddler.”

Bradley exhales gloomily and directs his gaze toward the front of the room where you stand, chatting with Bagman. “What does she see in that dirtbag?” he makes a face of disgust.

“I guess she sees his abs.” Natasha shrugs.

Bradley gives her a flat look. “Not you too.”

“What?” she exclaims with a laugh. “I’m not denying that he’s got a shit personality.” She glances over at you and Jake. “But he’s easy on the eyes, what can I say?”

“Maybe I should challenge him to a push up contest,” Bradley muses.

“Dude, we’re in the military.” Natasha shakes her head. “Push ups are not going to impress her.”

“But his abs did the trick?”

Natasha purses her lips. “Have you seen him flex?”

“Maybe you should bag him,” Bradley proposes sourly. Then, he adds, “Actually, that’s not a half bad idea!”

“No,” Natasha responds curtly and starts for the door.

“C’mon, Trace. I will owe you.” Bradley trails after her. “I will pay you.”

Natasha stops just short of the door. “To do what?”

“We’ll invite them to the Hard Deck. You distract Bagman –”

“No,” Natasha repeats, exiting the room.

“I thought you had my back!” Bradley calls after her as the rest of the aviators assigned to the mission start filing out into the hallway.

“Someone leave you hangin’, Rooster?” Jake asks playfully as he walks by.

Bradley flashes an annoyed look in his direction and sees that you’re walking alongside him. He locks eyes with you briefly – for the first time ever – and then glances back at Jake irritably. “Don’t worry, Bagman. That’s still your undisputed domain.”

Jake scoffs while you drop your head to hide a smile.

“Hey Bagman!” Natasha calls from down the hall.

Bradley looks up to see her doubling back.

“You guys want to join us at the Hard Deck tonight?” she asks casually.

Jake raises his eyebrows in surprise, so shocked at the invitation that he doesn’t respond right away.

That’s when you say, “Sure! We’ll be there!”

…

“Drink as much as you want, Phoenix,” Bradley says giddily. “It’s on me.”

“You bet your ass it is,” Natasha says, taking a swig of beer. “I’m going to need it.”

Bradley doesn’t have a chance to laugh because that’s when you and Jake enter the bar.

The two of you make your way over to Bradley and Natasha’s table. Jake is scowling but your smile is bright enough for the both of you.

“Hey!” Bradley says, rising from his seat to greet you.

Jake gives him a dirty look and Bradley squares his shoulders to appear a little taller. Jake might have gotten to you first but that doesn't mean that Bradley can't, at least, try.

“How’s it going?” you say as you take a seat and Bradley could swear they’re the three sweetest words he’s ever heard in his life.

“Great,” he responds, beaming at you like an idiot.

“So good,” Natasha responds absently, downing the remainder of her beer. “I need a refill.”

Jake, who is just about to sit down, rises again with an irritable sigh. “What’re you drinking?” he asks.

Natasha grimaces at him. “I can get my own beer,” she responds, also getting up.

Jake gives her a phony grin. “I guess you’re used to it,” he bites back.

You elbow Jake aggressively in his leg and he nearly loses his balance. “Be nice,” you warn him.

Bradley watches Natasha and Jake head to the bar together, surprised that you’re familiar enough with Jake to physically assault him considering the briefing this morning was only the third time you’ve met. Bradley wonders if maybe you know Jake from before; that would explain your allegiance.

“I’m glad you guys came,” Bradley says to you, not really sure how else to start a conversation with a girl who’s more or less spoken for.

You smile at him. “Yeah, thanks for the invite!”

“Of course,” Bradley responds. He decides not to mention that the entire night was orchestrated just so he could spend time with you.

“Jake’s pretty excited.”

Bradley lifts his eyebrows dubiously and looks over at Jake who’s at the bar with Natasha. “He’s got a weird way of showing it.”

You laugh. “Oh, he’s far too ‘badass’ to show it.”

Bradley snorts and looks back at you with a grin. “I like you,” he says before he can stop himself.

You chuckle slightly and lower you gaze without responding.

“I mean it,” he says.

You shift slightly in your seat and change the subject. “Your low altitude pass yesterday was pretty awesome,” you say.

Bradley grins and straightens his posture proudly. “You saw that?”

“It was hard to miss.” You cringe slightly. “Cyclone was so mad, I'm surprised you didn't hear him yelling from the cockpit.”

Bradley winces. “Yeah, I may have gotten into some trouble. But hey, if it means you noticed me, it was worth it.” He lets out a chuckle.

You smile, your eyes resting on his. "I noticed you," you admit.

Bradley keeps his gaze on you, releasing a guilty sigh. What's he doing flirting with you when Jake has clearly already shown interest? He hangs his head sullenly and says, "Look, I don’t know what you and Bagman have going on –”

“Umm,” you interject, holding up a hand. Bradley looks up at you, already nauseated because he’s fairly certain you’re about to tell him off. Instead, you proceed to say, “You know he’s my brother, right?”

Bradley blinks at you in awe. After several lengthy seconds, he says, “Shut the fuck up.”

You start laughing. “What did you think?”

Bradley drops his face in his hands, embarrassed and relieved in equal measure. “That’s why you like him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” you mutter sarcastically.

Bradley nearly chokes. “You’re hilarious,” he says.

You lean into the table toward him. “And you’re cute.”

Bradley stares at you in amazement and then grins sheepishly. “I’m so glad you think so.”

“Alright kids,” Bradley hears Jake’s voice and realizes that he and Natasha have approached the table. “We’re gonna call it a night.”

“What? Already?” Bradley exclaims, looking up at them. He instantly observes that Jake is holding Natasha’s hand. “Oh,” Bradley adds, meeting Natasha’s gaze with an amused grin. “Well, this is turning out to be an alright day.”

Natasha shoots him a threatening look but says not a word.

“Bradshaw,” Jake says, narrowing his eyes as he glances between you and Bradley pointedly. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Bradley solutes him with a nod and a smirk and then says, “You have yourself a good night, Seresin.”

Rooster Tag List:

The rest of the list will be in the comments.

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

@xoxabs88xox

@callsignvenus

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@ijustwantedplums

@Elenavampire21

@SometimesAnAlice

@risingtripletaurus

@desert-fern

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@graciereads

@pono-pura-vida

@ltfirecracker

@rascallyrascals

@kitty-moonflower-blog

@Melody-death

@bellaireland1981

@justlurkingplsignore

@rhettsluvr

@mandyppp

@eloquentdreamer

@topherwrites

@jessicab1991

@seitmai

@novastories

@stoneyggirl2

@roosterandme

@julielightwood

@primroseluna

@diorrfairy

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@dontletthemtakeyoualive

@schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker

@memoriesat30

@igotmajordaddyissues

@widemiffyhappy

@queerqueenlynn

@hizzielover

@ttokkisbee

@justmymindandstuff

@jrdyn

@callsign-mayhem

@og-baby-ob14

@chewymoustachio

@itsizzythebell

@marvelshoney

@sarcastic-sourwolf

[revelboo]

I'm going to blame wanting an update on my favorite wasp boy on my high fever XD

He’s a good boy and I hope you feel better soon!

Worker Bee Pt 13

Waspinator x Reader

• Venting raggedly, he leans into your warmth as you tug him back into your hive and he lays his head against you. Feels your arms wrap around him and doesn’t resist when you pull him to that broken, soft couch. “What happened?” You demand, soft hands drifting over him. Didn’t mean to worry you. Wants to apologize. Truthfully, he’s been hurt much worse before and his self repair systems are already working to seal torn lines and stop him from bleeding out energon. He’d gorged himself, drinking as much as he could find knowing the punishment would be the same no matter how much or how little he stole.

• Sucking in a sharp breath as you help him ease down on your couch and you see whatever the glowing stuff he’s bleeding is all over you, you gingerly touch his face. One mandibles isn’t closing properly and an optic is squinted shut. And as annoying as he is, this makes you want to hurt someone for hurting him. Because yes, he frustrates you, but he’s sweet and gentle. He didn’t deserve this. “How can I help?” You ask, cautiously touching that mandible and wondering if you should try and push it back into alignment or if that will hurt. Know he’s a machine, but also that he’s alive and feels things. “Waspinator? Talk to me, honey.”

• Has your voice ever been that soft before? Doesn’t think so, but loves it. Wants you to keep talking to him like that. Like he’s not a nuisance, like you care about what happens to him because no one else does. Catching your arm and tugging you down on top of him, he rolls you both so you’re safe between the cushioned back of the couch and his frame. The Combaticons wouldn’t have followed him just to finish the beating. At least he hopes not. “Stay,” he hisses, resting his head on top of yours, feeling you still shaking from the cold.

• Squirming as he shifts to pin you more firmly, you give up. “You’re hurt. At least let me do something about the blood.” Glowing, alien blood all over your couch and you both. At least it’s not acidic? And he just gives a low, buzzing growl, draping an arm across you to keep you still. Is he dying? How bad is he hurt? You have no idea and you hate this. Clawed servos rub almost absently against your spine.

• “Tired,” he growls, one mandible ruffling your hair as he just savors having you unresisting in his arms. Pretending you want to be there, that his little friend wants him the way he wants you by his side always. Someone to be glad to see him, who doesn’t try to hurt him or laugh at him. Mock the way he talks, his alt mode. Can feel your warm breath against the mesh of his neck, your softness pressed against him. Just wants to have this as long as possible. To belong somewhere. Shakily reaching up to cup the back of your head, servos threading through your hair, he hums for you, trying to ease your worry for him. He’s been beaten much worse before, this is nothing. But that you care? That’s everything to him. Because you see him.

Previous

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[chrissssssmut]

Yandere Vampire Princess Asa X Male ex-vampire hunter

y/n was a very feared vampire hunter but suddenly he stopped. Princess Asa who always heard the news of the hunt done by y/n admired him very much. When she heard the news about the retirement. She continued to look for y/n and when he was found, she ordered y/n to "hunt" the vampires that she had prepared because she wanted to see directly but y/n refuse........

THE PREDATOR'S PREY

Yandere Vampire Princess Asa x Hunter Male Reader

AN: I still haven't slept lmao XD i just wanna keep pumping myself up till i pass out T_T... Enjoy this one!

[The story begins with the male reader, once a feared vampire hunter, now living in self-imposed exile.]

The tavern was dimly lit, filled with the murmurs of weary travelers. You sat at the farthest corner, nursing a drink, ignoring the glances people still threw your way. Your reputation hadn’t faded entirely. Once, you were the most feared vampire hunter—ruthless, efficient, the shadow that haunted their kind. But one day, you simply stopped. No one knew why, and no one dared to ask.

You liked it that way.

Or so you thought.

A chill crept through the room, unnatural in its presence. You stiffened. The door creaked open, and the quiet hum of the tavern died instantly. The figure standing in the entrance was unmistakable.

Long silver hair, piercing crimson eyes, dressed in regal black and red—Princess Asa, the Vampire Royalty. The girl whose name was whispered with reverence and fear. She stepped inside, her gaze immediately locking onto you.

Your grip tightened around your glass. You had dealt with royalty before, but Asa? She was different. A prodigy, a nightmare in her own right. And she had always been... interested in you.

“Finally,” she exhaled, voice smooth as silk. “I found you.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you slowly set your drink down, muscles coiled, ready. Asa noticed and smiled—a slow, knowing thing.

“You don’t have to be so tense, hunter,” she teased, gliding closer. “Or should I say... former hunter?”

Silence.

She stopped just in front of your table, her presence suffocating. Her eyes gleamed in amusement as she traced a gloved finger over its surface. “Do you know how much I admired you?” she mused. “Every hunt. Every kill. I followed it all.”

You exhaled sharply. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“I know.” She tilted her head. “That’s why I’m here.”

You clenched your jaw. This was bad.

“I prepared something for you,” she continued. “A gift, if you will. I hand-picked vampires—lowborns, degenerates, easy targets. All for you to hunt. I want to see you in action.”

You frowned. “I said I’m done.”

Her smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew softer—yet more unsettling. “I heard you,” she murmured, reaching out. You flinched as she lightly traced your hand with hers. “But I don’t like that answer.”

You withdrew immediately. “I don’t care what you like.”

For the first time, her expression darkened.

The air shifted, thick with something suffocating. The tavern patrons had long since gone silent, wisely avoiding the unfolding scene. Asa’s fingers curled slightly, her nails pressing into the wooden table.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” she whispered, voice barely above a breath. “Do you know how much effort I put into finding you?”

You met her gaze—cold, obsessed, unwavering.

“I’m not hunting for you,” you said firmly. “I’m not a weapon you can use.”

Asa blinked. Then, she giggled.

It was sweet, melodic, utterly unhinged.

“Oh, my dear hunter,” she purred. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Before you could react, she was suddenly behind you. A blur of movement—inhuman, terrifying. Her cold fingers slid along your throat, her lips inches from your ear.

“You’re already mine.”

You tensed, but her grip was gentle, deceptively so. “I admired you for so long,” she whispered. “You were untouchable. The perfect hunter. And now, you’re within my reach. Do you really think I’d let you go so easily?”

You inhaled sharply. “Let me go."

Her fingers tightened just slightly—enough to remind you of her strength, of her power. “Hunt for me,” she murmured. “And I’ll make sure you never have to worry about anything again.”

You shoved her back with all your strength, your chair scraping against the floor. Asa let you, stepping away gracefully, amusement flickering in her crimson gaze.

“Not happening,” you growled.

She sighed dramatically, as if you were a stubborn child. “You’re making this difficult.”

You didn’t respond, already calculating your next move. But Asa wasn’t finished. She leaned in, tilting her head slightly.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” she murmured. “Scared of what you used to be. Scared of what you might become again.”

You stiffened. Her smile widened.

“You think you can bury your past,” she mused, stepping closer once more. “But you can’t.”

You met her gaze. “Watch me.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Then, she let out a soft laugh, something between frustration and delight.

“I don’t mind a bit of resistance,” she admitted. “It just makes the chase more fun.”

Your blood ran cold.

Before you could move, she was suddenly in your space again, pressing a hand against your chest. “You know,” she mused, “you’re even more handsome up close. I’ve imagined this moment so many times.”

“Get away from me,” you growled, but she only leaned in further, dragging a single sharp nail against your cheek.

“You’re so stubborn,” she sighed. “But that’s what makes you interesting.”

Something snapped inside you. With a roar, you drew the hidden dagger from your belt and slashed at her.

She dodged—barely—eyes widening with delight. “Oh? Now we’re getting somewhere.”

You lunged, striking with all your strength. Asa blocked effortlessly, countering with inhuman speed. A sharp pain bloomed across your arm as she grazed you with her claws.

Before you could react, she brought her bloodstained finger to her lips and tasted it. Her eyes darkened, pupils dilating. “Delicious,” she purred. “I knew you’d be.”

Enraged, you fought harder, overturning tables as the tavern erupted into chaos. But Asa was too fast, too strong. A final, crushing blow sent you sprawling.

Dazed, you barely registered her lifting you into her arms. “Shhh,” she cooed, pressing you against her cold body. “You’ll see things my way soon.”

The world blurred as she took off into the night, carrying you to an abandoned ruin. She dropped you onto the cold stone, straddling you before you could move.

“Now,” she breathed, tracing her fingers along your bruised jaw, “shall we try this again?”

You glared. “I’m not hunting for you.”

Her nails dug into your skin, drawing fresh blood. “But I want you to.”

She leaned down, her crimson eyes burning with obsession. “Say yes.”

You clenched your jaw. But as she tightened her grip, pushing you to the edge of consciousness, you knew—this time, you had no choice.

Your breath came ragged, chest rising and falling beneath Asa’s weight. The ruin was silent except for the sound of your shallow inhales and her soft, delighted sighs. Her fingers, cold as death itself, traced the fresh cut on your jaw, smearing the blood like paint on porcelain.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, leaning in. “Defiant, but vulnerable. Strong, yet completely at my mercy.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to give her the reaction she wanted.

“Still stubborn?” she mused, tilting her head. “You were always like this, weren’t you? Even when you were feared, when the mere whisper of your name sent my kind running. You never let anyone control you.”

She let out a small, almost wistful sigh. “That’s why I fell in love with you.”

Your body went rigid.

Asa chuckled at your reaction, her fingers sliding down to your throat. Not squeezing, just feeling your pulse beneath her touch. “Ah,” she exhaled, eyes fluttering shut. “It’s beating so fast. Do I excite you that much?”

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Any words you had were trapped beneath the weight of her presence.

Then, suddenly, she leaned in, pressing her forehead against yours. It was intimate. Too intimate.

“Say it,” she whispered. “Say you’ll hunt for me.”

You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to hold your ground. “No.”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “Wrong answer.”

A sharp pain flared in your shoulder as her nails dug into your skin. You hissed but didn’t break. Asa sighed, shaking her head. “I was hoping you’d be reasonable, but I don’t mind breaking you a little.”

She stood abruptly, pulling you up by your collar. Before you could resist, she pressed you against the cold stone wall, her body caging yours in.

“I’ll ask one more time,” she breathed against your ear. “Hunt for me.”

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, but you forced yourself to meet her gaze. “Go to hell.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—she laughed. Low, dark, and utterly amused.

“Oh, my hunter,” she purred, pressing closer. “You’re already there.”

Her lips brushed your ear as she whispered, “And I’m never letting you leave.”

Before you could react, pain shot through your side—her claws raking deep, slow enough to make you feel every nerve scream in protest. Your knees buckled, but she held you firm, her fingers tightening around your throat just enough to keep you conscious.

“Still so defiant,” she mused, licking the blood from her nails. “I wonder how much more you can take before you break.”

You gasped, trying to push her away, but she twisted your arm behind your back, forcing you to your knees. The ruined stone beneath you was ice-cold, the scent of your own blood heavy in the air. Asa crouched before you, her fingers gripping your chin, forcing you to look at her.

Her eyes gleamed, hypnotic, brimming with an unhinged obsession. “Look at me, my hunter,” she cooed. “There’s no one left for you but me. No one to run to. No one to save you.”

You bared your teeth, ignoring the pulsing pain in your wounds. “I’d rather die.”

Asa’s smile widened, eerily gentle. “Oh, love,” she murmured, brushing a bloodstained strand of hair from your forehead. “I won’t let you.”

Her fangs sank into your shoulder, slow, savoring. Your body jerked at the sharp sting, but she held you still, drinking deep, groaning against your skin as if your suffering was a sweet indulgence. Your vision blurred at the edges, body growing weaker with every second.

When she finally pulled away, her lips were stained crimson, her pupils blown wide with hunger. “Now,” she whispered, her fingers ghosting over the fresh wounds she had left. “Say it.”

You gritted your teeth, refusing even as your body trembled. Even as you felt the last of your strength draining away.

She sighed, almost pitying. “You always force my hand, don’t you?”

Then—more pain. Deeper this time. Her claws pressed against your ribs, just enough to remind you how fragile you truly were in her grasp. The world spun, darkness creeping at the edges of your mind. Every muscle screamed for relief.

Asa leaned in once more, her voice a sickeningly sweet whisper against your ear. “Submit.”

Your breath shuddered.

“Say it, my hunter.”

You tried to fight it. You really did.

But in the end, your body betrayed you before your mind could.

“…Fine.”

Asa stilled. Then, her lips curled into the most satisfied, victorious smile you had ever seen.

“That’s my love.”

[daydaydayrk420]

Save a horse ride a cowboy

Logan Howlett (wolverine) x nightcrawler Male reader

⚠️ bottom reader, top Logan, dress up ⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

I realised I wrote this as a bottom reader at the end of it... I don't remember if I wanted it to be a bottom reader or not but whatever I ain't rewriting this XD my first bottom reader!!

______________________________________________________________

Halloween.

How Logan hated Halloween.

Y/n he loves it. It's one of the days when he can go out in public without getting harassed about being blue and furry.

Logan, not y/n, put much effort into their costumes. Or, well, y/n did dress in a Beetlejuice suit, but that's about it. Logan? He just put on a cowboy hat.

But little did Logan know. Y/n has a weak spot for the Cowboys.

The fun begins.

The older students spike their drinks. The adults have secret alcohol bottles. But most people just drink beer.

Besides the smaller kids. They get juice. Other than that everyone's dressed up and having fun.

Besides Logan. He was bored. He was happy he had his beer. But he's still bored.

Y/n he's having fun. He has a plan tho. Something Logan won't be happy about. The older man always had a weak spot for the blue man. So whenever the nightcrawler gets himself in trouble, of course, Logan is the first to help and scold.

The blue man sneaks out of the room so he can teleport without anyone noticing. But the moment he turns around he's met with Logan's chest. "Shit."

The older man has his arms crossed. "Where do you think you're going?" His voice is somewhat mad but mostly annoyed. "Um.. a party?" Y/n smiles sheepishly.

"The hell you are." The older man huffs and grabs y/n's arm. "Then come with me!" The blue man says out of panic. Logan paused. "Alright. But if you do something I won't like, we're going home." Logan warned. Y/n nods and sighs. He fucked up already.

"Alright let's go.." Y/n first teleports to his room to change into his formal clothes and then he teleports himself and Logan to a local Halloween party that's in the city.

"How'd you find out about this anyway?" Logan asked as he looked around.

"Instagram."

The night goes smoothly. No one insults y/n about his fur. Funny enough, everyone compliments his "costume". Logan is always by the bar. Flirting with anyone who flirts back. But the moment he noticed y/n dancing with someone dressed as Arthur Morgan he lost his mind. He wouldn't mind it if it was harmless dancing. But they're basically humping each other.

He won't stand for that. The older man strides towards them, lifts the blue man over his shoulder, and heads for the exit. "Whoa - hey! Let me down! Logan, it was just getting fun!" Y/n complained and hit his fists against Logan's back like an angry child.

The blue man eventually gives up and just limply hangs over Logan's shoulder. "Should I teleport us to the school?" Y/n asks in defeat. "No," Logan said in a gruff voice. That surprises the blue man. Y/n doesn't ask more but stays curious.

Logan takes them to the nearest motel he knows of. Y/n is more curious with each passing second. He doesn't say anything as Logan checks in and takes the keys.

"Why are we here?" The blue man asks once they enter their room. Logan doesn't respond and locks the door before dropping y/n into one of the beds. "Hey watch it-" y/n's words are interrupted by Logan's lips pressing against his.

The blue man moans and cups the older man's cheek to pull him closer. Logan crawls over y/n and deepens the kiss. He had different plans. He wanted to punish Y/n for being a brat, but the moment he felt those soft blue lips, his mind corrupted.

The older man runs his hand up the blue man's hip and settles between his legs. They continue to kiss like that for a couple of minutes before Logan pulls away and removes his shirt. Y/n joins in and starts to strip too.

They're both naked. Logan is about to remove hid hat too but y/n stops him. "Leave It on." He murmured and gently pushed Logan onto the bed so he could straddle him.

The older man raises an eyebrow but doesn't question it. Once the Blue man Is settled he kisses Logan's neck. His tail starts to slowly wag the moment he feels Logan's hands on his thighs. The older man grins at the sight. "So beautiful. So soft." He murmurs into y/n's blue fur on his shoulder.

Y/n purrs and nuzzles Logan chin before lining up with his dick. "You don't have to do this ya know?" Logan piped in wanting y/n to fully think about this. "Ya know what they say. Save a horse, ride a cowboy." Y/n said with a lopsided smile he only has when he's nervous.

The older man chuckles but doesn't comment. He caresses y/n's hips in support and comfort to help the blue man relax as he sinks onto his dick. "You're doing so well elf." Logan murmures.

It takes the blue man a couple of minutes to get fully seated because Logan is a large man in more ways than muscle and height. Y/n whimpered at the feeling of such size filling him up.

Once he got used to it, he slowly lifted up, but he couldn't lift far before he fell. Logan chuckles and caresses his thighs. "Take your time."

Y/n smiles gratefully and just rolls his hips for now. The older man moans and kisses the shorter man's shoulder. Y/n whines and arches his back.

The shorter man suddenly gets an idea and pushes Logan back so he's resting against the headboard. Y/n shifts until he's leaning back. His hands by each of Logan's legs. He uses that to push himself up better than when he was kneeling.

Like this Logan gets a better view and immediately runs his hands over every inch of skin and fur he can reach. Y/n bites his lip, his tail is wagging furiously like a happy dog as he bounces.

Thanks to his feline-like character he's flexible enough to stay in this position for a long time. His tail might be a problem though. Sure it's just wagging. But it's hitting everything. The bed. His ass. His back. Logan's legs. Plus the tail is moving on its own with such force it makes y/n's hips move.

Logan grunts and grabs the tail. "Energetic little thing." He huffs. The tail wraps around Logan's hand, and he tugs at it. Y/n cries out and his dick twitches. The older man smirks and keeps that in mind for later.

For now he just reaches for the blue man's dick and teases it by running the tips of his fingers down the blue shaft. Y/n whimpers as his hips twitch as if his body was begging for more.

"So responsive. So beautiful." Logan praised and wrapped his fingers around y/n's dick loosely. The blue man whimpered and sped up his bouncing.

The room is filled with moans, grunts, and wet skin slapping against skin. A soft whimper from y/n is also heard from time to time whenever Logan tugs at his tail or dick.

Why didn't they get noise complaints? Because it's Halloween, everyone's drinking, and pretty much the whole motel is filled with horny couples that dressed up. So basically every room is echoing with moans.

But y/n and Logan only listen to each other. They're too focused on each other to notice old Billy begging for his mistress, Angel, next door.

Instead they notice the way the other's breath is starting to get shorter and faster. They know. The way they hold eye contact. They know. They don't talk because they don't want to ruin the moment and just watch each other.

Logan pushed off of the headband so he could be closer to y/n. He doesn't change position no. He just wants to be close. He let go of the tail, held the blue man's furry hips with his large hands, and kissed his chest. Y/n uses one hand to tangle his fingers in the older man's hair.

The blue man closes his eyes briefly to enjoy the overwhelming feeling of reaching his peak. He tugs at Logan's hair to pull his head back so he can look into his eyes.

Their mouths are both partly open. Breath mixing with breath. Their eyes hold intense eye contact, but to them, it feels like they're watching the most beautiful scenery ever witnessed. Logan's lips are wet, plum and pink. His cheeks are flushed with red and his eyes are lidded. He's trying his best to keep his eyes open.

Y/n's eyes are open. He doesn't want to close his eyes. He wants to see Logan. Y/n's face feels hot but he knows no blush is visible due to his blue skin and fur. But his lips are also plum and wet from the constant biting he did.

Their breaths hitch and hold as they cum. Y/n spills over his furry belly, which he'll complain about washing out later, and Logan spills into Y/n. Once their climaxes calm down they both gasp out the last bits of air they were holding.

Logan Finally closes his eyes and wraps his arms around y/n's hips to hold him as close as possible and rests his forehead on the blue man's furry chest. Y/n finally pushes off and wraps his soon-to-be sore arms around the older man's shoulders. He let his eyes shut and enjoyed the intimate embrace. He also wraps his tail around Logan's leg. That gets Logan to smile against the fur of y/n's chest.

Once they caught their breaths, Logan kept his arms around the blue man and laid down. Which made Y/n lay on him. But he didn't complain. He liked laying on Logan's chest. Y/n's eyes are still closed and his hand starts tracing Logan's chest. They both have their eyes closed with stupid smiles on their faces.

Logan lazily runs his fingers through the fur on y/n's neck. The reality of the situation starts to sink in and y/n's smile grows bigger and his tail starts to wag. Logan laughs as he feels the familiar smacking against his legs.

"happy?" He teased.

"Happy." Y/n purred.

[yanderedbdimagines]

Ide, Can I have a detailed story of how yandere Wesker watches his romantic obsession from the shadows outside of campfire? That he notices how the reader noticed him and deliberately murmurs how "He who should not be named" is watching them? That he is unaware that it is a reference to the Harry Potter movies as it doesnt exist in his universe ortimeline?

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OMG! You can’t believe how hard I laughed at that! I practically wheezed at the thought! xD And I like the idea so much, that I’ve made this scenario a bit longer than intentional! And don’t worry. He’ll feel frustration, but it’s with a twist as for the exact reason why that is. :P

It’s fun writing a bit of a crack fic for once xD Though I tried to keep it reasonable as much as I could. This is also the best moment to give Nicolas his cameo!

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Warning!: Hints of NSFW!

The Mastermind

The orange glow of the campfire cast long, flickering shadows upon the thick canopy of trees surrounding the small clearing. The warmth of the flames was a bright contrast against the cool night air. Yet, despite the relative comfort of the scene, an unsettling sensation pricked at the back of your mind. You felt like you were being watched.

The quiet murmur of Nicolas Cage and Feng Min’s conversation filled the silence, but your attention wavered every now and then. As often as you felt comfortable, you found yourself peering into the darkness beyond the fire’s reach. At first, you dismissed it as paranoia. Perhaps a trick of the light against the tall foliage. But as the minutes passed, the feeling only intensified. Someone was there, just out of sight.

You shifted in your seat, your back straightening slightly. The whispering wind carried with it an unnatural stillness, as though the endless night itself held its breath. Your gaze darted towards the trees again, scanning for any sign of movement. It took a moment, but then you saw it. Something shifting just beyond the veil of darkness. A silhouette, barely discernible against the backdrop of the night, clad entirely in black. His form blended seamlessly into the void, making it difficult to distinguish him from the surrounding shadows.

But then, the glint of something unnatural caught your attention. A brief flash, hidden beneath the shade of dark sunglasses. Glowing eyes. A deep, molten orange, burning like embers beneath the obscurity of his dark lenses. They were trained on you.

It’s him.

A slow, deliberate smile curled the edges of his lips as he remained still, his body half-shrouded in darkness. He was enjoying this. The way your shoulders tensed, the way your fingers clenched involuntarily against your lap. The way you knew he was there but couldn’t quite bring yourself to acknowledge it aloud. He relished every moment of your unease, drinking in your apprehension like a fine vintage wine.

A thought crossed your mind, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled past your lips in a hushed, almost teasing murmur: “He who must not be named is watching me.”

The second you said it, you wished you hadn’t. It was a joke. A nervous and accidental one. But the second it left your lips, the weight of it settled like chunks of ice in your stomach.

The fire crackled. The wind whispered through the trees. And yet, everything felt too still, too silent. You had startled yourself, as though speaking had only confirmed what was already true.

Feng Min and Nicolas Cage have heard you, their conversation stilling. You could feel their presence beside you, the quiet tremor of restrained amusement at the edges of their breathing. They understood the reference. But they also understood something else. That you weren’t laughing. That you were horrified by your own words.

Across the clearing, Wesker’s head tilted, his brows knitting together for the briefest moment. Then, his smile faltered, just slightly, just enough to see. As if something about your words gave him pause. As if, just for a moment, he wasn’t entirely sure.

And then he spoke. Low, assured, a quiet certainty in his voice that sent something cold spiraling through you.

“So, you do know who I am.”

Your stomach twisted.

No.

That’s not what you meant. But in his mind, you had just acknowledged him unprovoked. You had admitted his presence, spoken his name in a way that he had interpreted as something else entirely.

He had no idea what you were referencing. That the supposed mastermind, the ever-composed, all-knowing predator, had just unknowingly missed a pop culture reference. But you knew better. He wasn’t from the same world you and Nicolas were from. Feng’s, too. He didn’t know. But that didn’t matter, because he wasn’t questioning it.

The fire popped, embers spiraling into the darkness, and yet you felt no warmth. You looked away, forcing your breathing steady, forcing yourself to act as though you hadn’t just made a terrible mistake.

But the weight of his gaze never left you.

The fire had burned down to glowing embers, casting long shadows across the three survivors gathered around it. An hour had passed, but the eerie sensation of being watched still lingered in the air.

You tried to convince yourself that Wesker was gone. Or, at the very least, he had lost interest.

But deep down, you weren’t sure.

Feng Min and Nicolas Cage, who had remained largely quiet earlier, were now snickering amongst themselves, exchanging glances that made your stomach tighten with unease. It took you a moment to realize what they were whispering about, until Nicolas leaned forward dramatically, a hand gesturing wildly in the air.

“Now hold on a second,” he said, eyes wide with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Did you… Did you seriously call Wesker ‘He who must not be named’?”

Feng stifled a laugh, shaking her head. “Dude, I almost lost it when she said that.”

Your breath hitched.

Your stomach dropped.

You quickly glanced toward the treeline, your heart pounding in your chest. Surely, surely he wasn’t still…

But the weight of unseen eyes had never left. The feeling of being watched lingered.

Nicolas, completely unaware of your growing panic, grinned. “I mean, think about it! The guy’s all in black, the weird glowing eyes, the whole ‘I’m better than you’ attitude. He’s like if Voldemort and the Terminator had a blonde baby!” He laughed almost obnoxiously, running a hand through his hair. “And come on. What if he actually knew what you meant? What if he’s just out there, brooding, plotting his revenge while Googling ‘He who must not be named’ on an evil supercomputer.”

Feng nearly choked on laughter. “O. M. G., imagine him sitting through all eight movies.”

Nicolas gasped audibly, clutching his chest like he’d just uncovered the universe’s greatest mystery. “No, no, no. imagine him trying to read the books! Hunched over a desk, those cringy sunglasses on the tip of his nose, flipping through pages at superspeed!”

Feng snickered, her expression turning mischievous. “Also, did you hear what he said earlier? ‘So, you do know who I am.’” She deepened her voice, trying to mimic Wesker’s ominous tone.

Nicolas took it a step further, dramatically leaned forward and dropped his voice to a sultry, overly serious register. “Yes… it is I… the great and powerful Albert Wesker…” He draped a hand over his forehead like a tragic theater villain. “You may have heard of me… from ME, specifically!”

Feng doubled over laughing. “God, that was so melodramatic! Who talks like that?! He sounded like a villain from the 80s!”

You’d long since stiffened in absolute horror.

“That’s not funny,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice. The words felt small, fragile, barely audible over the crackling embers. You swallowed hard, scanning the surroundings yet again, your pulse hammering against your ribs. Why were they doing this? Why now? They didn’t understand how serious this was.

The night air seemed thicker, heavier, pressing against you like an unseen force. The trees swayed gently, rustling with the wind… But was it just the wind? Or something else lurking just beyond the fire’s dim glow?

Your skin prickled. The distant caw of a crow echoed through the trees, but it did little to mask the eerie silence that followed. It was that unnatural stillness again. The kind that told you something was wrong.

Feng wiped at her eyes, still giggling. “Relax. He’s probably long gone. It’s not like he’s actually sitting out there plotting revenge just because you made a pop culture joke.”

Nicolas smirked, shrugging. “Or maybe he is. Maybe he’s standing out there right now, arms crossed, calculating how best to smite us mere mortals for our insolence.” He shot you a playful look.

The flickering light from the embers illuminated their amused expressions, but your stomach twisted into knots. The heat of the fire should have been comforting, but instead, it felt suffocating now. Something wasn’t right.

A soft rustling in the undergrowth made you tense.

Your head snapped toward it. You strained your eyes, trying to make sense of the darkness beyond the fire’s reach. It was probably just one of the Entity’s crows, you told yourself. But the weight of unseen eyes had never left. The feeling of being watched clung to you, unwavering.

Your fingers curled into your lap. You wanted to tell them to stop joking, to lower their voices, to be quiet, but your throat felt tight. You could sense it. The shift in the air, the silent charge of something waiting, just beyond sight.

They didn’t realize he might still be there.

Might still be listening.

And he was…

Albert Wesker remained hidden in the darkness, lips pressed into a thin line, jaw tense. He had intended to leave. He truly had. But something had kept him tethered to the shadows, watching from just beyond their pathetic little fire.

And now… this?

His gloved fingers twitched before curling into a slow, restrained fist. He wasn’t angry. Well, not entirely. If this had been simple disrespect, he would have dealt with it swiftly. A lesson. A warning. A demonstration of authority. A reminder of who and what they were dealing with.

But what truly gnawed at him, what unsettled him more than their weak attempt at mockery, was you.

The way your face had flushed, the way your shoulders tensed, the way you instinctively sought him out with your eyes. Searching for confirmation that he was still there, watching. That uncertainty, that fear; pure and unfiltered, was what kept you on edge. But that was the problem.

It was only fear.

Never the kind of heat he wanted you to feel for him.

His serpentine pupils dilated behind his sunglasses, body taut with something far more maddening than rage. Something deeper. More primal.

You didn’t even realize what you were doing to him.

You had no idea.

And that ignorance… It was infuriating.

Wesker exhaled slowly, forcing himself to maintain composure, though the tension in his entire torso refused to fade. You, so oblivious, so naively terrified while he stood there in the darkness, his thoughts twisting into something sinful, something possessive. He could feel the frustration simmering under his skin, a restless energy coiling inside him like a predator that had been denied its hunt.

It would have been easier if you had genuinely teased him instead. Mocked him with the other two. Tested him. If there had been even a flicker of something beyond your terror. But no. You trembled for all the wrong reasons, recoiling from the very thing you should have surrendered to.

His fingers twitched again, aching with a need he hadn’t expected to feel so intensely. It wasn’t just about power, about making you understand your place. It was about something deeper, more carnal. It was the fact that your fear felt like rejection, and that alone made his hunger coil tighter, twisting into something he refused to acknowledge just yet.

How much longer would you look at him like that? How much longer would you see him as only a threat? A monster lurking in the dark? You were blind to what he could truly offer you. To what he could make you feel. To the safety net that he could offer you within the Realms in exchange.

A slow exhale left his lips, measured and controlled. But it did little to cool the heat simmering beneath his skin. His patience was thinning. The restraint he prided himself on felt fragile. He had all the time in the world, and yet, right now, he hated that he had to wait.

He flexed his fingers, forcing his mind back to the present.

He could easily make this stop. He could step forward now, letting the firelight illuminate his presence, his dominance. They would fall silent, eyes wide, breath hitching. Would you tremble at the sight of him, too? Would you find yourself unable to speak as his presence consumed the space between you? Would you understand, finally, that this was not at all a game?

He fantasized about the moment you would look at him and truly see. Not with fear, but with the awareness of what he could offer you and how he could make you feel. Your pulse quickening, your breath catching, your mind torn by something you wouldn’t dare to name.

The others would cower. He would see it in their eyes, the dawning realization that they had misstepped. The mockery would die in their throats as his gaze settled on you. And only you.

You would be the first to react. The first to try to mask your emotions, to pretend you hadn’t already been aware of his presence before they had ever begun laughing. But he had seen it. The way you kept scanning the treeline, the way you felt him before you ever truly saw him just a little over an hour ago.

The others were inconsequential. Their presence an afterthought, a small footnote in the story of you.

And yet, as he stepped back into the eternal night, a slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Oh, he would make you understand. In time.

An electrical shiver ran down his spine. Raw energy pooling in his gut. It clawed at him, crackling inside his chest, a restless hunger that had long since stopped being about power alone.

He needed to touch you, soon.

Not just to correct this. Not just to remind you exactly who controlled your fate. But to prove something to both you and himself.

For the first time in longer than he cared to admit, something had unsettled him. Not the careless joke that had fallen from your lips, nor the laughter of those two fools that had followed. It wasn’t even the teasing.

It was the fact that you were afraid of him in the way that you were. That you still didn’t understand.

And that?

That was unacceptable.

[kiddiewrites]

First Post

Sooooo this is the first fanfic I write, the current obsession is Call of Duty. Have I ever played the game?? No. Am I gonna play the game? Yes, I've downloaded the mobile version :D. Do the characters match their game personality? Probably not, the only source I have of them are other fanfics and edits I saw on tiktok JAJAJAJA.

Angst, T.F.141 x reader, Platonic!T.F.141 x reader, HURT, bit of OOC T.F. 141, pining!reader, bit of a sad ending, drunk confessions, overheard conversations, PAAAAAAAIIIIN (maybe I’m just projecting Enlgish is my second language so please be kind xd

PART 2

∞ Command me to be well ∞

“There is no sweeter innocence, than our gentle sin”

In all honesty, you weren’t supposed to be there. You should’ve been in the med bay, you should’ve been filing reports on the last mission and updating medical records.

You’ve been assigned to Task Force 141 as their base doctor, having no experience in the field you remained back in HQ until they came back from deployment. You quickly realized they didn’t fully trust you as a doctor, whether it was due to your civilian background or a misjudgement of your abilities, you never knew and frankly you didn’t want to. You tried not to be a bother, you knew their job was hard as it was, so you tried a friendlier approach, making sure to try and interact with them if even at a minimum. 

Instead, you were faced with a hard cold truth, one that you hoped had vanished with a few friendlier words in your direction… you weren’t wanted.

Time seemed to move slower as the last few minutes replayed in your mind. 

The guys were sharing a much needed drink after a rather difficult mission. Letting the façade fall down for a bit, the whiskey loosening tongues and bringing to the surface feelings that could no longer be held down.

You were walking down the hallway that led to Price’s office, a bit of a pep to your walk and a container of baked goods in one hand and the files that needed his signature on the other. You knew they’d be a bit peckish after their mission so you thought ahead and brought some pastries that you knew they liked, even though Simon always said that those were more sugar than bread. In an instant the door to the Captain's office was at reach so you balanced the files over the container. 

-She’s jus so fecking annoying, y’know ?-

You stopped right when you were about to knock on the door, hand midair. 

-I ge’ tha’ we’re suppose to get along seein tha shes the fecking doctor- 

What?  Your breathing stopped and your body shivered

-Bu’ I jus can’t seem to tolerate’ er- the voices seemed a bit muffled by the closed door but still the volume was loud enough for you to hear… Listening as you stood there frozen, wishing that you couldn’t. 

-C’mon Johnny, she can be a bi’ annoying, sure.- Ouch 

-Bu’ she does ‘er job properly and at the end o’ the day, tha’s why she’s ‘ere fo’. - 

Kyle seemed to try and reason with him but even his own voice sounded strained. 

The beating of your heart going wild with every second that passed, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. They couldn’t refer to you right? Maybe, maybe it was someone else on their mission…

-Y/N does a good job, lads.- That’s the captain’s voice… Fuck…

-I get tha’, is jus… she keeps sticking t’ us like feckin glue everywhere we go- Oh no…

The tears were freely flowing now, not wanting to believe what you were hearing, sure you weren’t the most serious person but you never thought that would be a problem, specially after everything you’ve done with and for them. 

-Maybe you’ should stop inviting ‘er everywhere with us then- 

-Is no’ like I want to, Lt.  Bu’ she jus… pops ‘ere everytime I try and talk to all o’ you .- 

“Maybe I should go… But… my legs are not moving” 

-S’ your fault for flirting wi’ er when she came roun’ the firs time- Kyle was annoyed, months of interaction helping you to recognize the tone in their voices.

-Y’kno tha’ he does tha’ to everyone.- Simon sounded so sincere that you couldn’t help to feel stupid, as if you were just a joke. Another one of the bunch… 

-Lads, c’mon… She’s jus’ doin her job- Price was tired and he could already feel a headache starting to form in the back of his head.

-She’s a nice girl, ‘sides you kno’ tha’ i couldn’ stop Laswell for saddling ‘er with us- 

That was it, you never thought that they didn’t want you. They were a bit standoff-ish in the first few weeks or so but that was because they didn't know you… right? They were a tight-knit group, it was perfectly natural to not trust an outsider with their health, right? 

They became friendlier in the last weeks, actually letting you patch them up rather than doing it themselves when you weren’t in the med bay. The first one that apparently seemed friendly to you was Johnny, making you blush with his flirtatious ways but at least making you glad that he was starting to open up a bit, Kyle and Price being a bit on the quiet side but at least no longer just completely silent while you fixed them up and Simon… well he was still not talking to you or acknowledging you.

Knowing that all of your efforts were for nothing made you feel useless, it had nothing to do with your job, you knew you were good otherwise you wouldn’t have been assigned to the 141. 

So with a deep breath and a new goal in mind,  you turned away and left files in one hand and a slightly crushed box of pastries.

“In the madness and soil, of that sad earthly scene”

You didn’t sleep a wink since that moment, pouring yourself over the medical files that needed your approval for final submission.

You were so deep in thought, that you didn’t hear the knocks at your door, only looking up when you heard a cough to get your attention. 

There stood your captain, looking very tired and you already could see the headache seeping into his usual calm demeanor. 

The urge to offer him a tea cup or a mild remedy for his head crossed your mind, he looked really tired but after what you heard last night you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

- Is there something you needed, captain?- your voice came out a little bit tired and sharper than usual, something that didn’t went unnoticed by the captain

-Yeah, kid. The reports from the last mission, do you have’ em?- He narrowed his eyes a bit at you, as if trying to figure out what happened. 

-Sure, let me get them for you- you stood up and moved to the cabinet next to your desk, there you took them off next to where the box of pastries remained intact and went ahead to give the to  the captain. 

- Here, all of the medical procedures and recent injuries are already stated. All they need is your approval so your medical history can be updated in due course- 

You handed him the files and turned to look at him, his face was a mix of confusion and slight annoyance. This side of you was new to him and he didn’t quite like it, where once you were all smiles and cheerful disposition now stood a sad look and a blank face, as if the very sunshine was taken from you. 

-Is everything all righ’, kid?- he found himself asking, you sighed loudly and headed back to your desk.

-Don’t worry about me, captain. Is just a rough patch, that’s all- You sat down and started to go over the files laid out before you.

-Alrigh’, if you need anything…- he watched you for a few seconds and then turned away and left.

A sour mood was felt across the base and from the interaction each of them had with you over the course of the week … there was definitely something wrong. 

Johnny tried flirting with you, but instead of being all giggles and blushing mess you just looked at him with a tight lip smile and continued as if he never talked to you, even when Kyle came in to your office for a quick fix up of his most recent stitches you remained completely silent, only talking to give him instructions on how to take care of his injuries and when to take his pain meds. Price’s office was a bit quieter than usual, without your usual self trying to warm up to him with an equally warm cup of tea or coffee in hand to help him through his headaches, even Simon felt the shift in your behavior, when crossing in the hallways or the break room being greeted with nothing more than a call of his rank and quickly leaving. 

The boys went into the cafeteria that same week and were surprised to see that while to the other soldiers you were still friendly and smiley, to them you were nonchalant and seemed almost way too professional. And that was upsetting everyone, so when you finished your lunch and went back to your office, files and coffee in hand they all decided that enough was enough.

You hadn't even finished entering your office when the four men burst in right behind you. You turned around with a scared look and a squeak of surprise at the sudden intrusion, the coffee almost falling from your grip and the files clutched to your chest. The boys all looked at you with a mix of annoyance and betrayal and you felt small, very very small. 

-What the hell is wrong with you?- your voice was a bit raised from the fright you were still recovering from, as you walked to your desk to leave the files and the coffee, Johnny spoke up. 

-Us? Wha’ e’ ‘ell is wrong wit you?- You turned around with a very deep frown etched into your face. 

-What are you talking about? You’re the ones that burst into my office like a pack of wild animals.- A very annoyed Johnny stepped right up until he was face to face with you. 

-Johnny calm down, mate.- Gaz’s voice was heard over Johnny’s loud breathing. 

-No, no’ until she’s told us jus’ wha’ in the living fuck is wrong- His voice was dangerously low, and it was fucking terrifying. 

-First of, back the fuck off, sargeant. I may be just a bloody fucking nuisance but i’m a doctor and I will break every bone in your body while naming them- A surprised look flashed through everyone’s faces, you’ve never talked to them like that before, and when Johnny didn’t seem to back off, you pushed with all your might and managed to make him to stumble back a bit. 

At that moment Ghost approached him and held him before he could fall, but the look he gave you, was right down murderous. A chill ran down your spine and your instincts screamed at you to run but your legs didn’t seem to work. Price at seeing the angry look on both of your faces quickly stood in front of everyone and yelled at both of you to cut it out. 

-Y/LN, you’ll apologize this instant or you’ll be subject to a reprimand for assaulting a ranking officer.- Price knew at the moment those words left his lips… he’d fucked up. 

-Excuse me?- You turned to look at him, furious. The nerve of these men…

-You think that you can burst into my office, to then demand an answer for which I do not know the fucking question to and THEN reprimand me for protecting myself against a man that got way into my personal space?- 

Your voice was raised, you were very very pissed off and the boys knew it, they knew they weren’t the best when it came to you, almost neglecting your care due to years and years of trust issues. They knew it wasn’t fair to you, but still when the only ones taking care of them were themselves, they just couldn’t trust you completely.

- I have tried SO hard to have you guys to trust me, GOD KNOWS I’VE TRIED and you won’t let me.- You felt the tears well up in the corners of your eyes and the faces of shock in the squad just made you feel worse. 

You hated yourself for crying, but the anger in you, the betrayal and the sadness were all out there now, so might as well just tell them everything. 

-I know I’m pathetic to you, I know that you think I’m… how you put it, Sergeant MacTavish?- At the mention of his name he looked up at you - “so fucking annoying”, I think was the term used.- His eyes widened, he knew exactly what you were talking about and the others seemed to remember the conversation they had a few days prior. 

-You’ eard o’r conversation?- Gaz seemed a bit angry and confused, how the hell could you have heard them if you weren’t supposed to be in the building. 

-Yes… I know it was wrong… I needed the captain’s signature on all of your files so your medical records could be updated..- The realization dawned on the captain, that’s why you were so down the next day… You heard everything. 

- But… I guess it was ultimately for the best- Your voice a whisper as you looked at them. 

-If you’re that unsatisfied with my care, I’ll ask the brass for a transfer.- The determined look on your face was like a slap in their faces, you were really going to leave them. They needed to fix this but neither of them said anything, you took a deep breath and left the office, leaving the four men standing dumbfounded in your office.

“What in the actual fuck just happened?” a thought, accompanied with the memory of utter anger and sadness in your face that will hunt the squad for the rest of their lives. 

They needed to fix it… soon. 

“Only then I am human, only then I am clean”

SOOOOOOO this was my first piece, i'm really sorry if it’s not the best so please forgive me jajaja.

If you liked it please like and reblog, I would like to keep writing and knowing you like it will make me very happy.

Jejejeje feedback is appreciated <3

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Would've Could've Should've

A/N: Hi Babes! :D So uhh….me again with the never say never....this one's a love I've had for...20 odd years and comes clad in yellow spandex....

Another one that was meant to live in the WIP and has taken on a life of its own...

I didn't tell @ken-dom this one was being shared, so she's probably gonna lose it....Sorry xD love you big much.

She’s still been mad encouraging and I love her dearly for it. Without her none of these would exist much like everything I've written over the last year and a half.

As always, this NSFW 18+ (Not yet but like...it's getting there ok?)

I wasn't gonna share it today, but with the digital DP&W release I felt I should and @coggedcorset aggressively encouraged as they do <3

Y'all should know by now I rarely post one shots…..so yeah, this will be multiple parts….I’m just not sure on the final tally yet.

Enjoy my loves! <3 

You sighed glancing down the length of the bar; Logan sat there, like he did every other night of the week. Silent and unmoving, save for occasionally reaching for the half empty bottle sat on the bar top. 

Usually he minded his own business, and no one else paid him any mind…usually…the bar wasn’t particularly busy tonight, and you were bored. 

You made your way down the bar on the opposite side, stopping where he sat. He glanced up, his brown eyes meeting yours for a brief second before they dropped again to examine a particularly interesting knick in the polished wood of the bar. 

“You should eat something” 

“No” he spoke into the bartop and you rolled your eyes

“Mmm good, just going to destroy your liver twice as fast tonight, got it” 

You reached for the near empty bottle and his hand snapped out with lightning speed, the hint of his metal claws poking out between his knuckles; his fingers warm against the back of your hand…too warm thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol running through his system. 

“Leave it” he nearly growled. 

“What are you going to do, cut off my fingers?” you rolled your eyes pulling the bottle out of his reach. “You’re done” 

He snorted with a laugh “Am I?” claws retracting back under his skin 

You ignored him, dropping the bottle back in the well “The spare bed is still made up upstairs if you’re interested” 

“Are you giving me an option?” he quipped as you walked around the other end of the bar, going to lock the door and flip the sign to ‘CLOSED’ 

“Sure,” you smiled sweetly and he cocked an eyebrow “The couch is a little small, but I guess curled up on the floor is an option too” 

He barked a laugh, louder than necessary, but given how much he had had to drink you were shocked he was coherent at all. 

You flipped off the lights and the bar was cloaked in darkness, moonlight streaming in through the door and windows, giving you enough light to navigate back to where Logan still sat. 

He sat up straighter as you came to stand over his shoulder, but made no move to stand. You wrapped an arm around his torso, draping a muscled arm around your shoulders as you heaved him to his feet; this hadn’t been the first time and sadly you didn’t think it would be the last either. The two of you had gotten into a bit of a routine since you had started working here regularly. He leaned heavily against your comparatively tiny frame as you grabbed his worn brown leather jacket with your free hand, draping it over your arm as you lead him to the narrow staircase, minding his feet, knowing full well that one stumble in his clunky work boots would send you both crashing to the bar floor and he was significantly harder to pick up from there. 

“I swear you only make me do this on night’s I wear heels” you muttered, using the wall to support yourself in the almost too narrow stairwell as you pulled him up with you.

“I can walk” he slurred 

Despite his declaration, his weight leaned heavier against you and as if to prove your point, he misjudged the next step, toe catching on the lip of the step, sending him careening forward, forcing you to catch yourself against the wall, fingernails digging into the flesh of his hip to keep him from smashing his perfectly straight teeth on the stairs. 

He grunted, catching himself on the wall on the other side without much success and you sighed as he righted himself. 

“You were saying?” 

“Shut up” he muttered as you reached the landing, wrenching the heavy wood door open that led to your tiny apartment. 

“You should really fix that” he mumbled as you dragged him into the dark room before flipping on the light and kicking the door closed with your foot

“I’ll get right on it” you sighed, finally letting go of the grip you’d had around his waist, causing him to stumble slightly as you reached to pull your heels off. “You know where your bed is” you yawned, draping his jacket over the nearest chair.

“My bed?” he repeated to the back of your head as you made your way to the bathroom. 

You turned only enough to look over your shoulder at him standing on surprisingly steady feet, the first three or four buttons of his plaid shirt undone and you had to force yourself to meet his eye. 

He’s drunk the little voice in the back of your mind whispered It would be unethical 

You snorted at your own inner monologue before answering him “Well, no one else spends as many nights here” 

This seemed to be answer enough for him as he sat with a heavy thump on the couch, bending to untie his boots before kicking them off, leaving them haphazardly strewn on the living room floor. 

You made your way down to the bathroom, closing the door most of the way behind you as you ran the hot water to wash your face and change. 

When you reemerged, you  found Logan sitting on the edge of the spare bed, leaned against the headboard, snoring softly. 

You giggled softly and seriously considered leaving him there, but thought better of it. 

“Logan,” you whispered, touching his arm gently, careful to keep clear of his hands. Nearly being impaled once when you startled him awake the first time he had spent the night was enough.

He hadn’t even stirred at your touch. 

You sighed “Any other night and you’d almost take my head off” you muttered

You grunted bending to lift his legs up on the bed and he mumbled something in his sleep as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. Pulling the comforter up around his shoulders you turned off the small lamp next to the bed, nearly jumping out of your skin hearing a slurred “Thanks” from where he laid.

“Just don’t puke on my bed” 

You heard him scoff with a laugh as you made your way to your own bed, drifting off to sleep almost as quickly as he had. 

***

You turned over in your sleep with a heavy sigh through your nose; a heaviness pressing on your mid-section. You blinked sleep from your eyes as you took a deep breath as you turned over, you jumped slightly when your nose nearly brushed against Logan’s as he slept. 

Your shoulders sagged as you sighed a second time, his arm still heavy across your middle as you studied his face in the dark. His face was weathered…not that you blamed him, you knew he’d been through the ringer before he ever graced a stool at the bar. Some he talked about, most he didn’t…you assumed. He was handsome still though, ruggedly so. You watched as his forehead creased with worry; he was dreaming. 

He dreamt a lot, or more accurately had nightmares a lot. You wondered if he thought the drinking helped; they seemed to be worse on the night’s he drank heavier…you had tried pointing that out once and nearly lost a limb because of it. Logan wasn’t the most…level headed man; although you could say with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t ever hurt you…anymore.

You turned over to the best of your ability, still trapped under the dead weight of his arm. He hadn’t even noticed, just carried on mumbling incoherently in his sleep, jerking slightly. You reached with a hand to brush your thumb gently across his cheek and his features softened instantly as he relaxed under your touch. 

“Shhh” you cooed, feeling his fingers twitch slightly against the small of your back “It’s okay, you’re safe” you whispered, his arm instinctively squeezing tighter, pulling you closer. 

It was that exact moment that it occurred to you  that Logan was no longer wearing a shirt….or pants…

You pressed your lips together in a hard line, wanting nothing more than to shake him awake and immediately demand an explanation, but you didn’t. This hadn't been the first time you had woken up with Logan next to you…. although it was a first for him to be sparsely clothed. 

Instead, and in spite of yourself, you settled more comfortably against him, tucking your head under his chin and closed your eyes, letting the heat radiating from him lull you back to sleep.

***

The sun streamed in through the window far too early, and you cursed yourself for not remembering to close the curtains the night before. 

You tried to roll over on your back and were met with a wall of resistance. Very warm resistance. 

You shifted with a scoff, reaching to shove him. 

“God, get off me, you're so hot” you whined, trying in vain to move away. 

A grunt of response over your shoulder as Logan stirred awake. “Fuck” he growled, shielding his eyes from the light against your shoulder. 

“That's what you get for drinking half the bar” you quipped, immediately gasping with surprise as his teeth found purchase in that same shoulder and you twisted away, turning to face him. 

“Don’t bite me you weirdo” 

He smirked sleepily with a shrug “Didn't seem to mind it much last time”

“Last time doesn't count” you muttered and he snorted with a laugh

“Just because you say it doesn't count doesn't mean it didn't happen”

“Shut up” you snapped, attempting to pull yourself up out of bed, and failing; Logan's strong arm keeping you pinned against his chest. “You were drunk” 

“If memory serves, so were you” he whispered 

“Yeah well,” you shrugged against him “That’s the thing about memories isn’t it?” 

He sighed against your neck, his warm breath causing your skin to ripple with goosebumps

You closed your eyes and sighed as his fingertips toyed lazily with the fabric of your t-shirt “Logan” you breathed and he hummed questioningly against the hollow behind your ear

“Don’t,” you sighed heavily “W-we can’t” 

Another hum as you turned your head and the tip of his nose dragged along the line of your jaw.

“Logan…” you repeated; noses nearly touching at this point 

“Why not?” he whispered, lips brushing against yours as he spoke 

You could feel your whole body flush with heat as you swallowed hard; mustering up enough willpower to push him back gently by the shoulders; his brown eyes searching your face. 

“Because we said we wouldn’t, remember?” your voice was soft, but the words were shaky, you were on the verge of cracking and you had no doubt he knew it. You needed to move, needed to get out from under the delicious weight of his torso, needed to put space between you….

You cleared your throat and wriggled out from under his arm, throwing the blanket back as you clumsily got to your feet. 

“C’mon,” he coaxed, propped on an arm “We’re both adults” 

“Yes, exactly” you nodded in agreement as you turned away, pushing your hair back off your face “Adults who make informed sober decisions” 

“I prefer your drunken decisions” 

“You would” you scoffed “Get out of my bed”

“That’s not what you said last-”

“Will you shut up about last time?!”  You snapped

“You’re bitchy in the morning” he mumbled climbing out of the bed on the other side. 

“That’s rich coming from you” you rolled your eyes in spite of facing away from him as you pulled on a pair of jeans from the night before.

You came around the end of the bed, pushing around him as you pulled open the drawer to your dresser, digging for a clean shirt before looking up at him “Turn around” 

He scrunched his nose slightly “Why?”

“What do you think this is, a peep show?” 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before” 

“Oh my god” you rolled your eyes again and Logan just shrugged

“Well it isn’t” 

You sighed, not really having time to argue, you pulled your t-shirt over your head, dropping it on the floor at your feet. You looked up at Logan and he wasn’t looking back, you had been ready to give him shit until you noticed his eyes were fixed on your collarbone, and the ugly scar that disappeared under your bra strap. You pulled the clean shirt on, the scar covered underneath…at least most of the way; half an inch or so still poked out from under the deep v of your shirt. Logan’s eyes hadn’t moved. 

“It’s fine” you spoke softly, snapping him from his thoughts and he met your eye. His usual grumpy scowl was more of a pout. “It’s fine” you repeated 

He just grunted in response and you made to move around him to finish getting ready. “Everyone knows I shouldn’t be allowed around sharp objects” you joked with a gasp as he grabbed your wrist as you walked by, stopping you from going any further and turning you to face him. He towered over you, the man was unnaturally large…you often wondered how you managed to haul him up here multiple nights a week by yourself. 

He hadn’t pulled you against him, but he stood close…too close. 

The hand not holding your wrist slowly reached to push back the collar of your shirt, exposing more of your scar. Your free hand reached to close over his, keeping it in place. 

The room was quiet for a beat before you spoke again, neither of you moved. 

“That’s not why” you whispered; you were looking at him, but he was looking at the jagged raised skin across your collarbone. 

You curled your fingers around his hand still resting against your chest. “I figured you would have forgotten” your voice still soft 

His eyes met yours then, no hint of humor in his features. 

“It’s fine,” you smiled gently “I lived” 

“Barely” he finally spoke 

“Well that’s what I get for trying to wake Edward Scissorhands from a nightmare” 

He just glared 

“Come on grump,” you changed the subject turning toward the door “Put some clothes on, you owe me breakfast” 

“Owe you?” he repeated, letting you walk away 

“Yeah,” you nodded, turning to look over your shoulder as you stood in the doorway “And I know most places have a pretty lax dress code, but I don’t think yellow boxer briefs are gonna cut it” 

***

Despite having gone your separate ways after breakfast, Logan found his way back to his favourite bar stool by nine thirty. You watched him reach over the bar top and grab the bowl of peanuts you kept tucked underneath for when he inevitably showed his face. He had changed, you noticed, swapping the red flannel he’d had on this morning for a blue one. 

You handed the guy across from you his change as he blatantly looked down the front of your top and you fought the urge to deck him as he dropped a twenty on the bartop. 

“So..uh,” he started and you would bet it took every ounce of strength he had in him to meet your gaze “What time do you get off?” 

You laughed lightly taking the money off the bar and shook your head “No thanks” 

“What?” he pressed, “You got like a boyfriend or something?” 

“Or something” you smiled politely 

“Well he’s not here is he?” the guy tried again 

“Well,” you shrugged, scrunching your nose and glanced down the bar before looking back to him. 

“That guy?” his face twisting in disapproval as he looked down the bar at Logan who was finishing off his first round of peanuts. “You know who that is don’t you?” 

You raised your eyebrows, straightening your stance 

“He-”

“You can leave now” you cut him off “Thank you” 

“But-” he looked from you down to Logan and back at you 

“What can I say,” you smiled “I like ‘em sloppy” 

The guy opened his mouth to say something more and thought better of it, closing it again. 

“Wise choice” you rolled your eyes before turning on your heel and making your way down to the end of the bar where Logan sat. 

“Fancy meeting you here” you smiled setting his usual glass in front of him and refilling the empty bowl 

He took the glass, nearly draining it before putting it back down “You changed” 

You laughed lightly with a shrug, handing him the whiskey bottle. “This outfit gets me better tips” 

He looked up with a raised eyebrow as you gently tossed the twenty you’d just been given on the bar in front of him. “Doesn’t have pockets though, hold on to that for me, would you?” 

“What do I look like, a bank?” he grumbled 

“No,” you smirked “But I owe you” 

His eyes narrowed again as he studied your face “You’re giving me your tip money?” 

“No,” you said again 

“But you owe me?” he asked, lines in his forehead deepening 

You giggled, walking around the bar, intentionally walking too close to where he sat, brushing against his broad shoulder. You knew you were flirting with disaster, but you had started to regret not taking him up on his offer this morning….against your better judgment…and getting under Logan’s skin was so easy, sober or not. 

“Stop it” he warned 

You stopped mid stride, chest purposefully pressed against his shoulder. “What?” 

He glared and you smirked “You're so easy to rile” you teased, messing up his hair  “I thought it was nothing you haven't seen before”

“You wanna play this game?” He narrowed his eyes 

“Who's playing?” You leaned to whisper next to his ear. 

He growled and you giggled before walking away to make your rounds.

[deadwasteland-dazaisfan]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ “It's not a knee...” .𖥔 ݁ ˖

°Pairing: fem!reader×chuuya nakahara;

°Contain: drabble, headcanons, close to canon, mention of murders, mention of criminal organizations, hints of sex, MDNI;

°Synopsis: about how your attitude towards each other has changed and you got.... into an embarrassing situation;

°Author's note: well... it's something like nsfw, but I'm not very good at it, so... I hope it's not that bad XD...there may be grammatical errors!

Nakahara Chuuya is your colleague, the head of the executive committee of the Port Mafia, and in fact, you are his secretary.

He is a busy man, holds the honorary title of a martial artist, and is also overworked. That's why he asked Mori to appoint you as his secretary (with your consent, of course). You weren't friends, but you weren't strangers to each other either. Previously, your work went separately: Chuuya constantly disappeared on missions, returned to the mafia office very late, and if he was carried to the outskirts of the city or another prefecture, then it was not worth waiting for him at all. He stayed overnight at a local hotel. You, in turn, were a less important person, although you were on the executive committee under his leadership.

You were rarely on missions, mostly you were engaged in official documentation and paperwork, contracts. Like a clerk, but a little more important. But, as they sometimes said about you, you were a victim, a decoy. That's what they called you because you were always in situations where mafia enemies just grabbed you and held a gun to your temple, threatening to kill you. You were a vulnerable member, and many people from enemy organizations believed that since you were on the executive committee, you should be an important person and you could be used to achieve their goals. Not that it was, no. You were highly appreciated and considered worthy of your position. Plus, you were a great beauty, and all the mafia men just admired the fact that there was such a pretty girl among them. In any case, you don't have to worry — for such threats and unauthorized touching of you, mafia crush their heads and broke ribs.

Over time, you became a little closer to each other — you don't know how it happened, but for some reason he started waiting for you after work (even if he looked like he was going to fall asleep), he could give you a ride on his motorbike or at your request he orders you a taxi. He was very busy during working hours, so he hardly paid attention to you (logically, he didn't pay attention to anyone). Sometimes, tired after battles, he would start writing reports (well, at least he tried), but his head and brain were boiling from everything that had happened, his mind was clouded by fatigue and the need for sleep, and he looked very, very tired. And yet, he managed to come up to you from time to time and ask about some points in the paperwork. Of course, you explained everything to him, he nodded silently with his eyes closed and, returning to his seat, fell into a deep sleep. All you could do was carefully pull out the sheets from under his head that were lying on the table and fill everything out yourself. He was more grateful than anyone else.

He also invited you to the bar a couple of times to have a drink in honor of the successful completion of several missions, but after you, smiling sweetly and awkwardly, said that you wern't drinking, he stop talking, make an empty face and hurriedly nod, after which he leave. Not that he was very upset; but he spent the rest of the evening at the bar over a glass of semi-sweet wine, reflecting that someone really never drinks and doesn't have such an addiction to expensive alcoholic beverages. But soon all his thoughts scattered when he returned home and calmly lay down on a wide bed, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.

Hiding the fact that he was really just too handsome and hot was useless. You just liked him as a person, but as a man he was also very attractive. He had a definite sense of style; he did not dress too pretentiously, his outfits were always good and moderate. And it was partly clear that he had been raised by a woman: idealized manners, always clean, shining red hair, gathered in a neat ponytail, neatly arranged bangs, ironed, clean white shirt; all other things are also clean and ironed, shoes are always clean and shine from the wax applied to them; He always smelled pleasantly of expensive men's perfume; not too heavy, a scent suitable for him. A couple of times you've seen him use lip balm in winter to keep his lips from cracking and bleeding. You also assumed that his house was tidy, clean and had a pleasant smell of fragrance. So, a wonderful man, a rich man, but a reasonable and rational person who knows a lot about manners and neatness, as well as about his work. He combined not only beauty and neatness, but also strength and power. And he was definitely one of those who could stand up not only for himself, but also for other important people for him. Including you. And also rides a motorcycle! Amazing.

But the situation you got into scared you a little, or rather confused you. Oh. Very confused.

It so happens that you and Nakahara have planned a birthday party for your boss, Mori-san. Others were involved in this, but it was you two who did the initial training. While his office was empty, you snuck in here and began to decorate everything that needed to be decorated. But before you could start, you heard footsteps approaching.

It was hopelessness, and Chuuya, grabbing your wrist, quickly pulled you after him. You ended up in some kind of closet, Chuuya quickly closed the door and looked at you. Everything happened so fast that both of you didn't even seem to have time to realize the situation... And now you were underneath him when he was looming over you; well, that was the only possible position for the two of you right now. Looking into each other's eyes, you listen to the sounds outside — someone has entered inside. You both fell silent, barely breathing, so that there would not be an extra creak or sigh. Since there was a closed and very small space in the closet, being here very soon became unbearable. The stuffiness weighed on your mind. So you both gradually got very hot, literally. There was still someone walking around the office, and you didn't know exactly who. Nakahara was still above you, so far he was silent. But after a couple of moments, he quietly approached and whispered in your ear:

"I don't think it's Mori-san. But who knows... We need to be quiet."

You, in turn, nodded slightly and whispered a quiet "yes" in response. You could see the outline of Chuuya, because a light light penetrated into small cracks in the closet. His body, hanging over you, seemed so tempting... But you quickly pushed away all the fragile thoughts and tried to look somewhere else. Chuuya has actually been looking at you all this time. His body was very close to yours, he could hear your slightly rapid breathing. His hands were on either side of your head. He really didn't want to... But your appearance was so beautiful and seductive that he could barely contain himself. He gently leaned closer to you and you felt his warm breath on your neck. He was breathing raggedly and heavily, probably he was hot...

And then you felt something underneath, pressing against your thigh. You couldn't see what it was, of course, but you could easily tell it was his knee. That's why you spoke softly:

"Chuuya, could you take your knee away, please? It gets in the way..."

You saw him pull back a little, and then lean over you again, and this time his voice sounded with a slight tremor:

"This is... This is not a knee...."

There was something between a sour and confused expression on his face. You couldn't tell if he blushed or not, but he did, you can be sure. He also looked away from you and tried to pretend that he was very wary of what sounds were coming from outside, but in fact he was just embarrassed that his body was reacting to you so involuntarily in such situations.

Uh...After the words he said, you were still at a loss, and, to be honest, it didn't come to you right away. You just stared at him, blinking frequently, while intense mental activity continued in your head about guessing what "it" might be, if not the knee.

Noticing that you were silent, looking at him uncomprehendingly, he was even more confused and let out a quiet "Uh ..." after which he tried to think of what to say to you. Your thoughts were not lost, and you thought that it could be the holster from his knife, which accidentally hung down and pressed so uncomfortably. Smiling slightly, you whispered:

"Got it... Is that a knife holster?..."

Oh, my God, you should have seen Chuuya's face. It simply cannot be described in words, and if possible, just repeat the words "confused" and "embarrassed" 100 times. He stared at you, then exhaled softly and said:

"Listen, y/n, this is not a holster.... This... are you... Damn, why haven't you figured it out yet..."

He swore softly and then leaned even closer to you. Oh, he wanted so much to kiss and bite your neck. But he knew he couldn't. Not yet.

Yeah, you haven't figured it out yet. And you felt it pressing against your thigh more and more.

And finally. You got it. You really got it. "It" pressing on your thigh was warm, and as it seemed to you, slightly throbbing. Your eyes widened, your cheeks turned crimson, your breathing became strangled, and you looked down. You actually felt very hot at the same moment of realization. You tried to move away at least a little, but it didn't work because the closet was too narrowly. When Nakahara saw you trying to move, he pinned your shoulders and hissed:

"Don't you dare move!... This damn closet is a million years old, it creaks like the oldest thing on damn earth."

You didn't object. No, not in such a situation and not at such a moment. Keeping silent, you tried to overcome your embarrassment while Chuuya was closely following the sounds from outside the closet. A few minutes later, the person who entered the boss's office finally came out and you and Chuuya opened the door a little. The office was indeed empty. Then, Chuuya run out of the closet with almost light speed, when you were still climbing out. Then you looked at him: flushed face, shortness of breath and wandering eyes. Only for a single moment did you manage to see the bump on his pants, after which he quickly headed for the exit.

"Wait...Chuuya-..."

Before he could get out, you grabbed his elbow and looked at him with a plaintive look. He quickly turned around and looked at you with a hint of seriousness and a little frustration, but nevertheless his face still had shades of embarrassment.

"Can we talk? I won't just leave it like that..."

"Y/N, It doesn't make sense. I'm sorry for all this... Never mind..."

You pulled his elbow and looked at him seriously when you said more insistently

"But... But you're-..."

"Hold on. What are you trying to achieve? Do you want me to make all my thoughts come true? If you annoy me, I promise I'll do it"

"But... I just-..."

Your voice broke off on a small squeak that you made when the redhead abruptly grabbed you and led you to the table. He also quickly, with incredible ease, lifted you up and bent over the table, facing him, as he squeezed your wrists and leaned closer

"Do you want me to fuck you right here? Is that what you want? Please, Y/N, don't do this. Otherwise, I promise I won't hold back..."

"And if I say that I want you to?..."

When those words left your lips, Chuuya's face instantly changed to pure surprise. Well done, 10 points out of 10. He certainly didn't expect such an answer...

"What... What did you say?..."

You looked at him with a slightly embarrassed and innocent look, and then said

"I said that... That I want you to..do it..."

Nakahara blinked a few times before leaning closer to you and whispering

"Do you want me to... fuck you?..."

His tone was like this... sweet and serious at the same time. You involuntarily blushed and swallowed softly when you answered in a trembling voice

"Yes..."

Without wasting any more time and words, Chuuya knocked you down on the table completely and clung to you in a passionate kiss. You unwittingly let out a soft moan against his lips, and then squeezed your eyes shut.

After that, everything was a blur. All you remember is Chuuya unbuttoning your shirt, then his, and then the sound of a belt buckle undoing.

Edited: LMAO I remembered that I forgot to finish the funniest moment! As you have already understood, all the actions took place in Mori's office... Not only was nothing decorated, the papers that were (unfortunately) on this desk were scattered all over the floor, and you both left the office in a lousy state. Chuuya's hair is completely out of order (by the way, so are you), his shirt is not fully tucked in, and you have the same thing.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Now I'm imagining a courtnapping sequence with Wukong and Macaque. Like... for soem reason I get the feeling it'd be Wukong who gets kidnapped in one of these? Tbw Great Sage Equal to Heaven would be a very tempting potential mate and it's not like her and Macaque were very public before.

Well. It's about to become VERY public when a very young Macaque goes full jaiju for the first time in an attempt to save Wukong and reverse courtnapping him. The reason Wukong couldn't fight back was because he was young, arrogant, and drugged. This was during the Journey, but Wukong doesn't remember it happening due to the fact he was knocked out for the majority of the time.

Years later, DBK tells the story to a very embarrassed MK who throught the way he acted when Redson was taken was unbecoming of the Monkey King's successor. He'd heard it from Tieshan, who heard it from Macaque.

Prev.

When MK finally snaps out of his feral state, he's apologetic af. He comes to in his apartment, his whole sleeping area turned into a makeshift nest, and wrapped around Red Son like he's a body pillow.

MK, nearly jumping to his feet: "OHMYGOSH! RED SON, I AM SO SORRY!!!" Red Son, chilling: "What for?" MK: "Didn't I like-!? Demon kidnap you!?" Red Son: "Yes, and you reverse-courtnapped me from that despicable mara. You have my gratitude... and my unending loyalty." MK, not understanding: "Wut?" Red Son, disappointed sigh: "You don't even know what courtnapping even means do you?" MK, quickly hides phone: "Maaaaybe... maybe I knew about it, and sorta forgot when I thought that guy was gonna hurt you...?" Red Son, moves to get out of bed: "I should have know..." MK: "Does this mean we're like, dating and stuff? Cus Pigsy says Tang did this to himself before they got married." Red Son: (*chokes on air, flames briefly flicker pink*)

Even if MK seems to be oblivious to the situation... it's more that he's genuinely happy but unsure if Red even thinks of him "that way". He doesnt want to rock the boat, especially in case Red is only sticking around cus of the Egg.

Mei, look of disbelief: "You're having a baby together, bro." MK, drinking cheese tea: "Yeah. But like, as friends." Mei: (*looks at her livestream audience like she's on The Office*)

MK of course apologises to DBK and PIF; bringing Wukong to vouch for him. The Monkie Kid is disappointed in himself for losing his self-control in that moment, pregnancy hormones or not. But all the adults look... amused?

DBK, fond chuckle: "This all reminds me of a certain sneaky simian, who rushed to reclaim what he thought was rightfully his King." PIF, smiling with a hum: "A simian who nearly stopped the Pilgrims' Journey in its tracks because he believed they were keeping his mate from him." MK: "Wait. Do you mean-?" Macaque, popping out of the shadows: "I know you ain't gossiping about me, sis!"

The demon bull couple proceed to dunk on Macaque for the next hour; regaling MK and Red Son with stories of how often Macaque would fly off the handle at any perceived rivals for Wukong's affections.

Turns out MK isn't the most possessive of the monkeys! XD

Wukong: "How come I don't remember that story?" PIF: "I'm not surprised. Your suitor had drugged you. It was during your Journey, and though you were not on best of terms; Macaque felt it necessary to save you from a dishonourable courtnapping. I assumed he already told you." Wukong, amazed: "Really, plums?" Macaque, blushing and hiding face in scarf: "Is' no big deal." DBK, bellowing laughter: "HAHA! No big deal?! You transformed into your Smoke-giant form and tore that demon to shreds! I'm surprised that you had the sense to return him to his Pilgrim brethren afterwards." (*Macaque sinks deeper into scarf as DBK and PIF laugh. Wukong smiles at him with a newfound appreciation. MK feels a little offended hearing that his actions reminded them all of Macaque.*)

Note: if a similar courtnapping of Wukong were to occur in the modern day; Macaque would still show the same level of ferocity. He'd just have backup in the form of adoptive-cub MK wanting his mentor back.

Pigsy can't say anything about how MK busted out his Kaiju-form out of jealousy. Lets just say a certain scholar got hit-on at a bar once, and they came face-to-face with a giant snorting boar demon glaring them down. Tang brags about the incident to this day. ("It was hot.")

[dreamer1084]

Natsuyuu Anime S7EP1 VS Manga Vol21 Ch.84

I notice some characters' dialogues has been changed or deleted. I won't mention them if it doesn't affect too much (because there are really too many small changes) A little personal interpretation included.

Manga here only mentions in one sentence, while anime used its traditional dialogue "Since I was a child, I have seen things that others cannot see..."

Natsume's inner description here is directly expressed in his attitude. And Tanuma's "talking about pottery" is deleted, although it's not important.

Youkai who wants his name back changes to the Inu no Kai in amine. I think the anime wants to re-introduce the Inu no Kai, and it is more lively this way. Natsume's "are you hurt?" is deleted. Although he is gentle to Kappa, but Kappa is obviously fine XD

In manga, dango is used to comfort Sensei who is disappointed because his cherry blossom-flavored wine is gone. In the anime, dango is used to make Sensei stop drinking at home, and with new flavors of dango.

In amine, they go to Nanatsuji and eat there wearing casual clothes. In order to bring out the background setting of the anime to the audience, they let Tanuma mention about Reiko. In manga, Tanuma says he wants to see the mini-sensei made by Natsume, and amine changes it to later to show his disappointment for not seeing it.

Anime adds a scene where the two looked at each other because Touko doesn't come out to welcome Tanuma as a guest. Tanuma already said he wanted to go to Natsume's house in manga, so we just see Touko directly. (However, this makes manga feel more like "I come to your house because I want to see Mini-Sensei", while anime moves the dialogue to later, so the causation becomes more ambiguous)

Half of Tanuma's dialogue is deleted in amine, and Natsume doesn't directly indicate Youkai in the dialogue (although they all know it)

"But it doesn't seem like a bad thing, let's wait and see." This dialogue is also deleted. Later, Natsume askes Sensei not to be too harsh on Mini for the same reason, and the dialogue there is also deleted.

Touko holds a broom in amine. And her dialogue with Mini-Sensei being regarded as a hamster when she doing housework is deleted.

Manga Sensei follows simply because it seems interesting. While anime feels more like Sensei is annoyed that Mini takes the tea bowl away.

In manga, it seemed like Sensei doesn't want to get involved in unwanted trouble. He says Mini is too small and it's hard to find him. He also says that there seems to be bad Youkai around here, so they should leave quickly. Sensei in anime simply tells Natsume to be careful because of the bad Youkai he feels.

+

That's about it. There are also some detailed changes in other dialogues, but I won't mention them because they shouldn't be too important, and I don't have the ability to compare them line by line XD But I want to say something else:

It may be okay to hide behind Touko and drink from a tea bowl. But, if Touko moves her head a little bit, she might see Sensei floating in the air with a fan...LOL

[teecupangel]

@thedragonqueen1998's reply to this post

That new tag actually is an idea/AU i've thought of lately. XD Where Desmond gives birth to Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton before being kidnapped. I've personally had him just suddenly become pregnant, no sex needed to lean more into the "Desmond is the Chosen One". XD Plus, we need more Dadmond tbh.

Virgin Birth.

Desmond had never even heard about it until he googled ‘Is it possible to get pregnant without having sex?’.

This is, according to Wikipedia, different from Immaculate Conception.

Desmond would like to reiterate that he was not the second coming of Virgin Mary.

… as far as he knew.

Not only that, he had been a virgin before he gave birth, having enough trust issues to fill a goddamn dam at the moment.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to know how sex feels like.

It was more that he was still scared that his father or someone his father sent would come find him and take him away from this freedom.

He can’t go back.

He would never go back.

Especially now that he had three sons to think of.

They were born on December 21, 2005.

At least, that was what Desmond believed.

The morning of December 21, his stomach started hurting so badly he couldn’t leave his bed. The pain ebbed and flowed from paralyzing pain to almost unnoticeable, giving Desmond a chance to text that he wouldn’t make it to his shift because of ‘stomachaches’.

His boss assumed he had diarrhea and told him to stop eating weird cheap shit.

Desmond was pretty sure that wasn’t it but it wasn’t like he could go to a clinic and get this check out.

Clinics meant asking questions about who he was and his history.

Clinics left tracks that William Miles can find.

Desmond knew how the game is played.

And fuck that. Desmond wasn’t going to give up his goddamn freedom because of a stomachache.

It will come to pass.

Like every pain Desmond ever felt.

So he closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Inhaling deeply before slowly exhaling, timing his breathing to the ebb and flow of the pain.

By midday…

Desmond fell asleep.

He didn’t know if the breathing helped him fall asleep or if he had passed out from the exhaustion and pain.

When he woke up, the sun had started to set and…

The pain was gone.

His bed was a lost cause, covered in blood, but Desmond’s attention was focused on the three small forms lying on the bed between his legs.

His sons.

Three bloodied (and, Desmond was being honest, wrinkly newly born ugly) babies who were all staring at him as they make cooing sounds.

That was the day Desmond became a father.

And also the day he googled ‘Is it possible to get pregnant without having sex?’.

They were… low maintenance boys, Desmond supposed.

They only shout when they needed to get Desmond’s attention and they weren’t fussy over their drinks. They seemed a bit disgruntled every time Desmond had to change their diapers but they didn’t cry.

They rarely cry.

They only truly cry at times when they were asleep and Desmond believed that they would have nightmares during those times.

His boss was strangely alright with Desmond suddenly appearing with three babies, only looking at him with a frown as he told him that this should be his wake up call to use condoms.

Even his coworkers believed that the one day that Desmond said he was out because of ‘stomachache’ had been code for him freaking out because an ex had left him with three sons as a big fuck you or something.

The most support Desmond got from them though was letting the babies stay in the office.

He had to buy the collapsible playpen though but it was fine.

It gave him an excuse to get more shifts just to pay for his and his sons’ living expenses.

One of his coworkers asked why he didn’t just give them up for adoption. It was clear that he wasn’t ready for it.

And Desmond couldn’t explain it.

He wanted them.

They might have been a surprise but… they were his.

And…

Whenever he felt tired or felt like everything was becoming too much… just feeling them in his arms was enough.

It was enough.

.

.

Miles’ kids were strange boys.

They didn’t make any messes and they were polite… most of the time, anyway.

He knew it was bad to let Miles use his office to keep the kids. Hell, this bar was not a good place for kids and Miles should really just get a babysitter but he didn’t mind.

Miles was homeschooling them… in a way.

It wasn’t his place to give parenting advice anyway so he stayed out of whatever Miles planned for his kids. As long as they don’t hinder business, they could stay.

Altaïr was always on that second hand battered laptop that always made loud fan noises when it was turned on. They mostly kept it on because of it.

At first, he thought Altaïr was just playing in his laptop but… he was studying. Every tab he could see was either educational or… well… Wikipedia pages. Even the YouTube account Desmond shared with his sons were filled with educational videos, mostly something connected to history or engineering or technology.

Desmond liked to say that Altaïr was a genius and had been saving up to buy him a better laptop for the past year now.

Ezio, on the other hand, was more of a people’s person. He liked to talk to Desmond’s coworker before the start of their shift and he was a charming little bugger. Charming enough that many of Desmond’s coworkers started to give them food and juice boxes, saying they made too much or their parents or grandparents gave them too much food and there’s no more space in their fridge…

He was pretty sure that was Ezio’s plan from the very beginning. Build up a network of helpful adults.

Then there was Connor.

He had a different name that Desmond and his brothers use but it was hard to pronounce so he just let everyone else call him Connor.

He followed his father or one of his brothers most of the time, quiet by their side.

Observing.

He was the one who helped out the most, always following Desmond and helping him whenever they were doing their final clean up before closing for the day.

When he was with Ezio, he was always earnest with his questions, taking everything the adults tell him seriously.

When he was with Altaïr, he would lean close and read with him quietly. They would share the earbuds that they had with tape on the right wire because the casing had broken apart and watch videos quietly.

They were… nice kids.

Desmond was a good father dealt with a bad hand.

He supposed…

Buying Desmond a cheap laptop would be cheaper than raising his pay this Christmas.

Would save him more money in the long run, that’s for sure.

[dealbrekker]

When You Call My Name

Here's my Sylus fic! I figured I'd get it up before everyone is scrambling for Caleb XD Inspired by Sylus's myth and the choir version of Madonna's Like a Prayer (yes from the deadpool wolverine soundtrack, trust me).

Warnings: violence, blood, evol related violence, reader/mc is kidnapped but no violence is shown being done toward her, Sylus isn't as lucky, but he's okay, promise.

Word Count: 2500 Summary: When you're kidnapped by an unknown faction, it's not hard to determine it has something to do with Sylus. But the men who have you seem to know something you don't about Onychinus's leader, and that something could kill him. Too bad for them you remember everything in the process.

Ao3

The last thing you remember is leaving the Association. You’d waved goodbye to Tara and Nero, checked your watch for any final comms from Xavier, to see if his mission had finished up. When there wasn’t anything, you’d started home.

You don’t even know if you’d made it a block.

There is a black void in your mind from that moment to now. Now, where you’re tied to a chair in a nondescript warehouse. Your feet are bare, and your clothes torn considerably. You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. You can tell a black eye is forming, by the way you can’t see much out of the right. Your bones are very unhappy with the current state of affairs, but you don’t think anything is broken.

You’d stopped calling out to see if anyone would answer. You’d been doing it for what felt like hours. No one has yet come along. You feel like you should start again, as even your hoarse voice is better than the ringing silence of the place.

They’d taken your watch. There is no way to communicate with anyone on the outside. No watch, no phone, and seemingly no kidnappers.

Which is far more unnerving than if someone had greeted you upon waking.

You close your eyes and run through your mind. Who can this person or these people be? You doubt they’re targeting the Association, but Ever could potentially be behind it. But you rather think that Ever would be more communicative with their hostage.

Are you a hostage, if there are no kidnappers?

You shake your head and keep thinking. Zayne doesn’t have any enemies. Rafayel probably does, but you doubt this is the work of some art world stalker.

Which leaves…

“Sylus.” You murmur.

As if on cue, men enter the room. You sit up straighter, trying to see if you can recognize any of them. They’re not wearing masks.

One of them steps forward, but does not touch you. You stare up at him.

“How long have I been here?” you demand.

You’re surprised when he easily answers, “6 hours and twenty minutes.”

“Why am I here?” You try not to let the length of time rattle you. “Who are you?”

“We would like a word with Sylus.” He is still staring at your face, as if searching for something.

“So just call him like all the other dealers do.”

The man smiles softly. “We prefer a more direct action. Take his finest treasure, and a dragon is sure to react.”

You glare up at him. “You’re severely overestimating my status.”

The man’s eyes flick to his watch. “I think, I am not.”

He motions, and more men stream into the room. You can hear them in the catwalks above you. And several settle into other chairs to wait. You clear your throat, desperate for a drink of water.

“Even if Sylus does come, he won’t be alone.” You wriggle your wrists. Your fingers are going cold. “He’s not an amateur. You should know that.”

“No,” your captor agrees, leaning against a pillar and lighting a cigarette. “Not an amateur. But easily goaded. Besides,” a ring of smoke puffs from his lips. “His minions are engaged with some of my men across town in a gambling den.”

You swallow. Luke and Kieren…

You aren’t worried about them. But that means Sylus will most certainly come alone.

The nameless man continues to smoke. You can see the embers dropping. The odor makes you cough.

“Why?” you ask again.

He doesn’t answer you. Another hour has come and gone while the men wander and say very little. You are completely ignored; left to wonder, left to ache.

After a while, you almost feel sorry for the group pacing the floor. If you could manage to get free, you’d try to take them down quickly and efficiently, granting swift deaths if necessary. Sylus, on the other hand, will likely make a mess of the men around you. You’ve been gone too long for him to show any sort of patience, or allow you to help take your own revenge on this lot. It has always confused you, the way he vacillates between murderous wrath if anyone touches you to seemingly reverent faith that you can take care of yourself. There are days you swear he could incinerate someone with a glance, and days he lets you lead and defend yourself against enemies with nothing but a soft chuckle.

Your gut churns when one of your captors eyes you from across the room. You stay still, hoping none of them come closer. You haven’t been trying to work your hands free for a few hours, because despite the glow of pride you begrudgingly feel when Sylus applauds your abilities, you can’t help but feel hollow and scared right now.

You don’t know why these men make you nervous. But they’re different from the usual thugs and sketchy dealers Sylus normally contends with. Petty criminals you can handle; these men, though…

It’s like they know something you don’t about the man ostensibly on his way to save you.

And he has to be. Mephisto, your ever vigilant shadow, would have reported. As far as you know the men haven’t sent any sort of word of your kidnapping. You don’t imagine they think they’ll swindle a ransom out of Sylus. Not these people, who communicate in glances and quick, whispered monosyllables. These men who haven’t asked you a single question. No. You’re simply bait. They have no wish for money or weapons or deals.

They want blood. His blood.

Your fingers clench and you start wriggling your wrists again. I need to get out of here, he can’t come here, he can’t…

The five men who had been seated stand silently, intent on the door. You freeze, straining your ears, willing it to have been nothing, silently screaming for Sylus to go away, you’ll handle this, go away, you’re in danger, you’re in danger, please don’t come.

The group is converging in toward each other, closing in on the main door. Several others wait in the shadows, apparently casing the windows. Silence reigns from the catwalks.

Sylus won’t bother with windows, you think. He’ll come right through the front door like he owns the place.

Don’t, don’t, don’t.

The leader unsheathes a blade you hadn’t noticed before. It gleams inky black, the hilt studded with vicious red gems that look horribly like—

“Aethercores,” you breathe.

Suddenly you feel in your very battered bones that this dagger might just kill Sylus.

The floor starts vibrating and your ears pop. It’s like all the air has been sucked from the room.

“DON’T!” You scream.

Too late.

The door explodes open, and he’s there, larger than life, shirt and hair billowing in the force of his own wake. His eye burns red, as red as the dagger’s hilt. The whips of his power surge, cutting through the warehouse like swords through flesh, impaling a few unlucky souls. Blood sprays in wild arcs, and the dead men never even had time to scream. Gunfire erupts.

You know he hasn’t even seen you, hasn’t registered that you’re alive and mostly well, tied in the center of the room. It does not matter to Sylus that the blood of these men has made it to you, spattering across your bare feet. He does not see it. He just knows you are here; he knows that you are hurting, and he knows that every person in this room responsible for your current state will die. Badly.

Except, you think, your mind pooling thickly, time slowing and slipping in a cruel, sticky way, he cannot know about the dagger.

The dagger that is plunging toward his chest. The dagger that sings somehow, a horrible requiem, a promise of goodbye. His eyes watch its descent, and then slip past it, finally, to you. You marvel at the surprise there. Someone has finally caught him unawares.

The dagger rips into his chest and you are caught in a fly trap of dawning horror, of a dropping heart rate, a pain so resounding, tearing at your insides.

Your ears ring.

Your throat is raw with a scream you do not hear.

Men wrench his arms behind him, and the dagger wielder strikes again, again, again. The gunfire has stopped.

When the sound comes back, you wish you’d simply gone deaf. The wet crunch of the blade sawing in and out of Sylus’s chest is a poison in your soul. But it’s his gasp that you know will follow you to your grave.

Sylus stumbles. And you watch the titan of a man fall. The man who has become so much to you, so much that you’ve not been able to define it, falls to his knees. You feel his blood speckle across your face, warm like summer rain, an anointing.

He looks at you, and you look back. Your name is a whispered prayer on his lips.

The world cracks open.

And so do you.

Your vision fails as your body bends, head thrown back, tears trailing down your temples into your hair.

Your eyes are wide open, but it isn’t the warehouse ceiling you see.

It’s a night sky.

And a shimmering cave.

It’s a vaulted chapel.

An ancient city.

A crowd of cold guardians, an organ, and chains on your wrists.

A tavern and a man on stage.

Treasures and weapons and gems and silks. A dagger with a studded hilt…

It’s your world crashing around you as you’re thrown into a pit. It’s claws around your throat and a tail around your waist.

It’s the sky rushing by like you’re flying.

It’s a field of flowers.

And a warm body beneath yours.

It’s the sunlight in his eyes.

It’s Sylus.

But not...quite.

A dragon carries you, sweeping through those who wronged you, cultivating your desires. He threatens and cajoles, he growls, and he bites. Your neck stings with his mark. Your skin is alight with it.

He lies in the field, and preens as you put flowers in his hair. Your lips barely brush his, and your heart screams when the vision within the vision fades.

You sob as the sword in your hands thrusts deep, and your dragon disappears on a warm breeze, your enemies slain in his final act of love.

And then it’s Sylus as he is now. Him in the boxing ring, sliding a ring onto your finger. It’s you and he in the snow, your hands brushing flakes from his hair. It’s you and he in the Grasslands, it’s you and he on a ship, silly little cat ears and all. It’s him making you dinner, helping you fight, smiling softly in the dark.

Beautiful garnet eyes are the last thing that vanish from your view.

As they’re fading now.

The cold air of the warehouse slams into you as your chair crashes forward back onto all four legs. You see the men standing around Sylus, watching the man—your man—dim. You see…and you do not see.

You do not know where you pull the sword from. You do not comprehend the way the air around you freezes, and then goes searing hot. You only feel the hilt in your hands, the weight of the weapon pulling at your arms. The rage that pumps the blood in your veins and the utter silence with which you wield the very weapon you once used to kill your beloved.

This time when the blade finds flesh, it is of those who deserve the death you deal.

The men never know how you got out of your binds. They never know where the dragon slaying weapon came from. And none of them would ever get the chance to whisper about it either. After all, what is a man to a blade forged against dragons?

But Sylus knows. In the dimming light he’d seen your binds melt away, had seen you stand and the sword settle into your grip like a lover’s hand, pulled from thin air, from time itself. The pressure and pain in his chest had ceased when you grasped the blade, and with it, eons of longing and anguish vanished like dust on the wind.

And then the room goes golden.

You sense your Evol, more than see it. The air crackles with the energy as your sword cuts through body after body. More men converge, forgetting to run, blindly thinking they’ll stop you. Maybe numbers will stop you. You are vaguely aware of the flash of the gunfire beginning again.

But your Evol meets another, and you gasp at the way flames fill your body. Power pours into you, curling around your Evol, stroking it tenderly. For the first time in all your life, you feel complete, and you pause for a moment to appreciate the power purr over your skin, before exploding from your pores and shattering the windows like a nuclear blast, reducing the shrieking men to mist. You never saw the way the lead man had eyed your weapon with a wild hunger as you cut through his men. But, your mouth curls into a nasty grin, you do watch his body turn to dust.

The sword clatters to the ground, and your body seems to hang, momentarily. You’re barely putting any weight on your feet, as if poised to spring forward and eliminate more threats. Sweat and blood drips down your face and arms. Your shoulders burn and your scalp tingles. You feel like you’ve been flying.

A soft moan brings you back to your body. Sylus is on his feet. Blood thick on his shirt, but not on his skin, and the sweat and blood of your face mirrors itself on his, and his wound is knitting itself back together under the glow of your resonance…

Your shared resonance.

A sob punches from your throat and you’re running and tripping and reaching for him. He reaches, too.

His hands are so large, yet so gentle as they thread through your hair and cup the back of your head. Because of the claws he’d never wanted to hurt you with. His shoulder is strong beneath your cheek, his body warm against yours as he pulls you impossibly close, alive and in your arms. He’s strong enough to keep you both standing, even as you shake uncontrollably.

You’re babbling as the last vestiges of the resonance fades. A tight, wounded, barely coherent torrent. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, forgive me, forgive me, I remember it all now, forgive me—”

And he: “Shh, shh, I know, I know, there’s nothing to forgive, my love.”

Over and over the hiccupping sobs and the body-wracking apologies. Tighter and tighter your fingers on his shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you, I love you, I love you.” And you do. You have, it would seem. Even now, without the memory, you know you have.

“I know,” he whispers. “I know. I was just waiting for you to know, too.” His fingers are soft on your chin and your lips, beneath your eyes as they wipe away the tears.

“I love you, too, sweetie.”

And, gods, has he. For millennia; forever.

[medusapelagia]

23 Meet me at Skull Rock

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Skull Rock) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt:Musician ), @aug-kissed (prompt: Using Tongue) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: no one Words: 1403

(Did Tumblr eat my fic... AGAIN?! Yes! It did! But now I'm smarter and I have copies! Lol XD)

The car is parked down the road, hidden behind a thick bush and a big tree, the same place Steve used every time he hung out at Skull Rock. Nobody could see it from the street and that gave him all the privacy he needed.

Steve has been to Skull Rock so many times by now, but every time was different from the time before.

There was a time when he was still King Steve and he used to come here with the girl of the week. There was a time when he was just Steve, and he drove Nancy here just to look at the stars and intertwine their fingers. There was a time when he was a warrior, ready to fight, and he came to save a friend.

But this time...

This time is different from all the other times.

This time is a goodbye.

Eddie hasn’t really told him, but when he asked him to meet at Skull Rock Steve immediately got it. The road is close enough to the highway. They can share a joint, drink a beer or two, and then Eddie will drive his car far away from Hawkins. From the place that was never home to him. And Steve will remain. Because his roots are deep and strong and he can’t move. Not when the boys are still there. Not when Robin has promised to take a year off to help him figure out what he wants to do with his life. Not when his parents finally came back to take care of him even if he doesn’t need it anymore.

“My liege! Come! Sit down! I already started a fire and brought some s’mores.”

Steve sits on the ratty blanket Eddie has laid down on the ground to protect his royal ass from the bumpy rocks, grabbing a marshmallow and stabbing it with a stick, roasting it on the flame.

Crackers and chocolate are waiting for him at Eddie’s side when he puts the hot candy out of the fire.

“So, you’re going to try?” Steve asks, squishing the marshmallow between the crackers and the chocolate.

“I have nothing to lose,” Eddie mumbles, his mouth full of crackers and some chocolate dripping down his fingers.

“Musician. That’s a cool career.”

“That’s the dream: playing my songs in an arena full of people who sing along with me. And there are other benefits. Like groupies, free stuff, and money. So much money.” Eddie adds in a dreamy tone.

“Yeah. It sounds, nice.”

“I know I’m dreaming big, but you should try it sometime. It really changes your day.  And even if I won’t make it, I will be far from this stupid town anyway, so that’s a plus. In a big town like Los Angeles, I could get lost in no time. No more angry parents threatening me or Wayne, no more slashed tires. No more spray paint on the trailer. Yeah. It sounds like Paradise.”

“The boys?”

“Jeff is coming with me, he is going to attend college in California anyway, And next year Gareth and Frank will graduate too so we’ll be reunited. And maybe we’ll finally make it big. If not, there are so many bars where we could play. I'm not worried at all.”

Steve nods quietly while inside him his feelings are bubbling like a hot soup. He reaches out to grab another marshmallow, and his hand bumps into Eddie’s. The metal head smiles brightly, “Didn’t know you had a sweet tooth,” he says, offering him the bag to grab another candy, but that seems to be Steve’s breaking point. He drops the bag of candies, not caring about ants or other insects, and pushes Eddie with his shoulders to the ground.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers on Eddie’s lips, “tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave.”

Eddie’s eyes have always been big, but right now they are huge pools of chocolate brown staring at him in astonishment.

He doesn’t ask Steve to stop, he doesn’t push him away or scream against him, he grabs the back of Steve’s head with one hand and drags him toward himself. Eddie tastes like chocolate and candies with a hint of cheap beer, that’s what Steve will remember about his first kiss with a man. His hands are strong and his long slim fingers are curling on Steve’s back, urging him closer, and closer. They’re chest to chest, Steve practically crushing Eddie with his body, and then Steve’s tongue pushes a little bit harder and Eddie grants him permission to kiss him deeply. Their tongue meets halfway, as if they couldn’t wait to finally touch each other. Steve’s tongue twirls and moves faster into Eddie’s mouth and Eddie follows his lead, obediently. It’s not so different from kissing a girl, the only difference is Eddie’s chapped lips and a hint of beard growth brushing against Steve’s chin, but Steve doesn’t startle at the realization that he’s kissing a man. He just makes himself softer and kinder, not wanting to leave Eddie with a bad memory of their first kiss.

Steve doesn’t know how long they keep kissing, he hasn’t made out for so long in months and he’s somehow surprised when he finds Eddie straddling him, their hard dicks brushing one against the other behind their jeans.

But then Eddie retreats, crawling backward on the blanket.

“What was that?” he asks, cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand, and Steve knows he fucked up, he really did.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Is that so? I don’t know what I was thinking?! You fucking kissed me, man!” Eddie yells, “You… you stole it from me!”

“I didn’t steal anything.” Steve replies tiredly, “I kissed you, I made a big mistake, and I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you should have not!” Eddie insists, and now he’s standing, touching with his fingertips his plum lips, “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know Eds. I wanted to, okay? You’re leaving anyway, why does it matter? It’s not like you have never been kissed before!” Steve sighs, brushing a hand through his hair, and then the realization hits him. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t your first kiss, right? You… you have all those dirty magazines you bought in Indy, you always talk about that stupid hanky code. You… you have never been kissed before.” Steve whispers, pinching his nose, “Listen, man, I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean it? Thank you, Steve! That makes things so much better!” Eddie complains, his arms crossed in front of him, “Hey Eddie, I stole your first kiss because I was drunk and sad. I don’t even like boys but you were here so I just did it. Sorry. But we’re fine right?” Eddie yells, mocking Steve’s voice.

“That’s not… It’s not like that, ok? It wasn’t…”

“It wasn’t what? An experiment? A test?”

“I do like you, moron!” Steve finally yells and his voice reverberates in the quiet of the woods, then he lowers his tone, “I do like you. I have liked you for quite a bit but I never gather the courage to say anything. And now you’re leaving and I won’t see you again, and maybe you’re right, I’m sad and drunk. But I did mean it, Eddie. It wasn’t an experiment. I swear.” Steve almost whispers, avoiding staring at Eddie in the eyes. 

The metalhead is still standing in front of the fire, his silhouette dark and ominous.

“You did? You really meant it?” Eddie asks, and this time it looks like his crossed arms are pulling him together instead of shielding him.

“I did. I do.”

Very slowly, Eddie sits back on the blanket, “I’m going to leave anyway,” Eddie reminds him.

“I know. It’s the right thing to do.” Steve agrees.

“But maybe… you and Buckley could think about joining me next year. Or the year after.”

Steve reaches out with one hand, caressing Eddie’s arm.

“I’d love to.”

“So… maybe we can try again? Practice makes perfect, you know?”

Steve chuckles, “Yes. Yes, we can. Come here, babe.”

They kiss until the sun rises and when they get back to their cars Eddie’s last promise is that he’ll call him as soon as he’ll find a place to stay. And if Steve is already waiting for Eddie's call, sitting next to the phone, is none‘s business.

[ramblingoak]

Hello! I apologize if you don’t take requests btw but if you do , do you think you can write head cannons of what the papas would do for their s/o with Covid when you can? <3(I totally didn’t js find out that I had Covid 😀) again super sorry if u don’t take requests!🖤

Hey! I hope you are feeling much much better. Apologies this took a bit to finish. I ended up getting Covid last week myself so clearly karma got me for taking too long xD. This did end up being more for readers that are just kind of sick in general but I hope you still enjoy the little drabble I did for each Papa 💙

Warnings: short and sweet, pretty fluffy and fairly silly, there are some suggestive comments but these are mostly sfw, readers are all gender neutral, not beta read so pls ignore any mistakes

Mayo Rub ~ Primo x GN!Reader

“Are you going to be grumpy about this the whole time I’m sick?”  Primo scoffed and continued to aggressively turn the pages in his gardening magazine.  “Well?”

“You are mistaken, I’m not grumpy about anything.”

“Then why are you pouting over pictures of tulips?”

“They’re not tuli–”  Primo stopped abruptly, roughly closing his magazine and getting up from the couch.  When he glanced over your way you raised an eyebrow at him.  “They’re lilies.”

“Fine, lilies.”  You took a moment to cough into your elbow, knowing that he was now frowning because it had been getting progressively worse as the day had worn on.  “But you admit that you’re pouting.”

“Why must you be so difficult?”  When you couldn’t answer right away due to another coughing fit he wandered over to the bed, wringing his hands with worry.  “Fogliolina, I’m only trying to help.”

He was ready with your bottle of water when you were able to look up, meeting his concerned gaze sheepishly.  With a shrug you took the bottle from him, taking a deep drink to try and soothe your throat before attempting to answer.

“The store bought stuff is working fine.”  You ignored his muttered ‘clearly’ and pressed on,  “Look I just don’t buy into the…you know.”  Primo raised his eyebrow as you wiggled the fingers of one hand in his direction.  “Plant magic.”

“It’s not magic, my little leaf.”  The unspoken ‘idiota’ hung between you but you decided to be gracious and ignore it.  “They are natural remedies that have been used for hundreds, no, thousands of years!”

“Fine.  If I let you work some of your plant magic will you stop pouting?”

“It’s not–”  He took a deep breath, blowing it slowly out through his nose before continuing.  “SÍ, I will stop pouting.”

“Alright then, have at it.”  Primo gave you a pleased smile before leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead.  He was frowning when he pulled away, bringing his hand up to press against the warm skin his lips just touched.  When he muttered something under his breath in Italian and turned away you grabbed at the sleeve of his sweater and tugged him back.  “Fogliolina?”

“Just promise not to rub mayonnaise or whatever on my chest.”

“Che cazzo?  Why wou–nevermind.”  

You had to bite your lip to stop from laughing at the impressively annoyed look on his face.  He took a deep breath before shooting you a look that usually either predicated a lecture or him demanding you remove your clothes.  Unfortunately you knew that right now it meant the former.  You decided to go easy on the man that was about to work his…whatever on you.

“I love you Primo.”

“As you should.”  The both of you shared a smile before he clapped his hands together and turned back to head out the bedroom door.  “Sit tight fogliolina, I’ll be back with the mayonnaise in just a few moments.”

Your laughter quickly brought on another coughing fit but you waved him away when he looked back at you.  

“Go!  Get your potions old man, I’ll still be here.”

“I’m going to make sure of it, my little leaf, don’t you worry.”

Secret Ingredient ~ Secondo x GN!Reader

“Is it salt?”

You hid your face in the neck of the sweater you had borrowed.  The fabric was soft and warm, with the bonus of smelling like the man it belonged to.  Secondo let out an aggrieved sigh from where he was standing over the stove before turning around with an eyebrow raised.

“Salt?  Really?” 

“Fancy salt?”

“SÌ, the secret ingredient of the chicken noodle soup recipe passed down through my mother’s family for generations is fancy salt.”  He gave you a little smile when he caught you pouting.  “Would you like a taste, dolcezza?”

“Yes, please.” 

Secondo got a spoonful and blew on it as he walked over to the kitchen table.  He held it to your lips with great care, watching the expression on your face change as you tasted it.  When you gave him a pleased smile he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You feel a little warm again, would you like to lay down?”

“No, no I’m fine.  I want to stay out here with you.”  That earned you another kiss before he turned and went back to the stove.  You licked the taste of the soup off your lips before taking another guess.  “Rosemary?”

“That’s not much of a secret, dolcezza.”

“Parsley?”

“Parsley is a necessity, certainly not l’ingrediente segreto.”  

“Ok fine, how about Primo’s parsley?”

Secondo chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled two bowls from a cupboard and started to fill them with the soup he’d labored over almost all afternoon.  You had been stuck between desperately wanting him close because you felt bad but also not wanting him to get sick.  When you’d tried to explain this he had gone on about some nonsense of the Emeritus line having strong constitutions and rarely becoming ill.  Whatever.  You’d remember his speech the next time he was whining over a cold.

“All of the ingredients are from Primo’s gardens, as you know.”  

He set your bowl down in front of you before taking a seat himself.  You let yourself get distracted for a bit looking at his exposed forearms.  It was one of the reasons you enjoyed watching him cook.  He’d roll up his sleeves and you’d get to daydream about his arms while he worked.  Your eyes finally looked up from staring at the dark hair covering his skin to find him smirking at you.  

“Get over yourself.”  He knocked his foot against yours under the table and you flashed him a smile before bringing a spoonful to your lips.  Like most everything he made it tasted amazing.  You let out a delighted little hum before taking another guess.  “Basil?”

“Again, not a secret.”

You frowned down at your bowl as you tried to think of what was so damn secret about his soup.  He had even refused to tell Copia earlier when he’d come by asking for the recipe.  It had to be something extremely uncommon for him to be so weird about it.  But he always got a little weird when he was making you something special, especially if it was an old recipe of his mother’s.  Secondo always took such great care when he recreated them, like he was pouring his love for his mother into them as he worked…oh.  You reached across the table and laid a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently when he looked at you.

“I love you too, Secondo.”

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”  When he didn’t elaborate you pulled your hand away and crossed your arms over your chest.  “The secret ingredient.  It’s love.”

“Love isn’t an ingredient.”

“Yes it is.”

“No dolcezza, it isn’t.”

“I bet your mother would agree with me.”

Secondo snorted, rolling his eyes as he moved his chair closer to yours.  It was close enough he could wrap an arm around your shoulders and tuck you close to his side.  After placing a few kisses into your hair he pulled away and cupped your cheek.

“I have no doubt that if my mother was still here you and her would run circles around me.”

“Just admit it.  I promise I won’t tell anyone.”  When he didn’t say anything you grinned, his silence was all the confirmation you needed.  “It’s love.”

“It’s paprika.”

Satan Magic ~ Terzo x GN!Reader

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Terzo groaned, muttering under his breath as he pulled you closer to his chest.

“This is my church I can be wherever I want.”

“Oh your church, huh?”  You dug an elbow into his gut, grinning when he swore in Italian.  “Besides, you know what I mean.”

“SÌ, sÌ.  I know.”  He shoved a leg in between yours and rubbed his cold foot along your skin, holding you tighter when you tried to wiggle away.  “Ai!  Quit it, I'm trying to help.”

“How are your freakishly cold feet supposed to help me?”

“You have to warm them up first.”

“Satan’s dick, Terzo.”  A fit of coughing came over you then and you tried to ignore how nice it was to have Terzo’s hand rubbing your back as your body shook.  It took you a moment to catch your breath and you sniffled as you shamelessly pressed back against his warm chest.  “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“How many times must I say this?  I don’t get sick.”  

“I seem to remember a few days last year that you were definitely sick and whining in this bed just like me.”

“Those were allergies and completely different.”

“Whatever you say Papa.”

His chest vibrated against your back when he groaned.

“Don’t talk like that right now, it’s not fair.”  You giggled as you pushed back against him, trying to get as close as possible.  He was so warm, it was exactly what you needed right now.  Terzo tightened his arms around your waist for a moment before pressing his lips against your ear.  “Would you like to hear a secret?”

“Always.”  

“It’s because I’m a Papa that I don’t get sick.”

You frowned, turning your head to the side to look at him as best you could.

“What?”

“My family line has been blessed by Lucifer himself.  It is not often that an Emeritus falls ill.”

“But he’ll let you suffer through allerg–hey!”  

He got another elbow in the gut after he pinched your hip and you both wrestled a bit under the blankets.  Terzo managed to turn you so that your chests were pressed together and you took advantage of the new position to tuck your face into his neck.  Your nose was severely stuffed up but you could still smell his cologne and it was so good you let your body go limp in his arms.

“Don’t worry about me, eh?  I want to be close to you, to take care of you.”

“Alright, fine.  I just hope your Satan magic protects you from this.”

Terzo snorted and started to card his fingers through your hair.  It didn’t take long before the soothing movement helped you begin to drift off.  You felt his lips against your temple and you smiled, opening your eyes to meet his gaze.

It was unfortunate that it was the exact moment he sneezed into your face.

Stolen Soup ~ Copia x GN!Reader

Copia always got a little anxious when you were sick. 

It was part hating that you felt bad at all and also part him not wanting to catch what you had.  He hated getting sick and was always the worst patient.  In contrast you generally preferred to be left alone.  All you wanted to do was sleep and unfortunately you just found yourself getting irritated when Copia kept bugging you. 

“Copia I’m fine!  I just want to sleep.”  Oh here we go, the pout.  You groaned, rolling your eyes as you fell back onto the pillows.  “You’ve got better things to do anyway.”

“The only thing I need to do right now is take care of you.”  He had that stubborn look on his face, the one he gave Imperator when it was time to ask for a bigger costume budget.  “Amore, please?  Let me make sure you’re going to be alright.  Would you do this for your Papa?”

You could never win in a battle against that dopey look on his face so you just huffed and nodded your head.  His dazzling smile would be worth listening to him gloat later when he claimed it was only through his care you survived at all.  Copia began to hum to himself as he grabbed the big tote bag he came in with, quickly pulling things out and setting them at the foot of the bed. 

“What’s all this?”

“Ah, well I stopped by Primo’s for some salve to rub on your chest,”  You snorted when he wiggled his eyebrows at you.  “He also gave me some tea that will help your throat.  Secondo had some of his homemade soup in his fridge so I brought that as well.”

“Does Secondo know you took his soup?”  

“I left a note, he’ll get over it.”  

There was definitely no way Secondo would get over it but you decided to let it go.  When Copia started pulling some books out you sat up again and reached out for one. 

“I don’t think I have the energy to read right now.”  You ran your fingers over the worn cover of the book, flipping it open and seeing a short passage written in Italian on the first page.  “What does this say?”

“It’s a note to Terzo.”  Copia walked around the bed and gently took the book from you.  “From his mother.”

“Oh, Copia, maybe you should take it back.  I don't want anything to happen to it.”

“No no, this is what the book is for.  Sick days.”  He gave you a warm smile, leaning forward and kissing your forehead.  He was frowning when he pulled away, muttering something about taking your temperature.  “Terzo’s mother read this to him when he was a child and then Terzo used to read this to me.”

“So now it’s my turn?”

He looked over at you with a fond smile, his hands full of remedies and stolen soup. 

“Si amore, now it’s your turn.”

My Masterlist

My Archive of Our Own

Thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers and @foxybouquet with the Italian help 💙

[the-final-sif]

C!Dream brought c!Sapnap home before he died, but now has to confront something brand new to him: a worried adult. 

Dream was very relieved when the demon scooped up Sapnap, but less relieved when he was also pushed towards the house. He considered running, he really did but-

His entire body was tired and sore and the house didn’t look quite like a nest but it did look warm and safe.

So Dream let himself get pushed inside for whatever awaited him there. 

As it turned out, the demon was far more preoccupied with Sapnap. The demon handled Dream’s friend very delicately, putting him down right next to the roaring fire and running to grab potions. 

Dream wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do, but after deciding that the demon didn’t seem too dangerous, he shuffled a bit closer to the fire. His hands still felt numb, and he’d only just realized he was shivering. 

The demon fussed over Sapnap for another few minutes before rather suddenly snapping his gaze towards Dream, as if he’d just remembered Dream was there. 

 “Are you- I’m so sorry, I almost forgot- Are you alright? Did you get hurt at all? What happened?”

Dream just barely made out the questions, and once again he considered bolting for the door. 

 Still, what if the demon needed to know what happened to Sapnap? What if he didn’t let Sapnap come out to play anymore if Dream didn’t tell him?

 “I’m- I’m okay. Don’t think I’m still hurt. Just cold. We were cavin’ and the floor broke. We fell into a really cold river. I dragged ‘im out and gave him regen. Me too, for my hands. And strength ‘cause he’s heavy.” 

As Dream spoke, he shuffled his feet nervously, not sure if this demon was going to get mad at him. The man did have a tail which was helpful but he didn’t have wings and his tail movements were very different from what Dream was used to reading. He couldn’t tell if the demon was angry or not. 

When the demon responded, his voice didn’t sound angry. 

“You were- Okay. You two were in a cave. Okay. I- I’m glad you got him out. That was very brave of you and you must’ve been very determined to keep him safe. He’ll- he should be okay. He got cold, and that’s very scary for a blaze hybrid, but he’s warming up now. You should come here too, to warm up.” The demon then paused for a moment, seeming to realize something.

“You’re Dream, right? The boy that Sapnap keeps telling me about? I’m Badboyhalo, Sapnap’s father, but most people just call me Bad.”

Dream wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so he just nodded to confirm his name as he shuffled closer to fire. The shivering hadn’t quite stopped yet and his fingers were starting to ache more. He must’ve gotten pretty cold to not feel that.

The demon- Bad, didn’t seem happy with that. His brow furrowed and he reached out, gently grabbing Dream by the arm and pulling him until he was next to Sapnap. 

“Here, come here, you’re obviously cold. Sit here, let me go-” 

And as he spoke the man stood up, bustling over to the couch to grab a thick blanket that he draped around Dream’s shoulders. It was warm but a bit scratchy. Dream put up with it regardless. 

“There, that should help you warm up. Let me go make you something- Do you like hot chocolate? It’s Sapnap’s favorite drink. You aren’t allergic, right?”

Dream wasn’t sure what all-er-gic meant, but he shook his head regardless. If he didn’t know what it was, then clearly he couldn’t be it. He also didn’t know what hot chocolate was, but he knew that XD sometimes gave him chocolate ice cream and that tasted pretty good. So hot chocolate was also probably good?

As Dream quickly discovered, hot chocolate was actually amazing. Bad had even brought him a little tube that was much easier to drink with. He didn’t even need to move his mask!

As he sucked at the drink, Bad checked over Sapnap again, smiling at whatever he found. Which was a good sign probably? After his check, Bad turned back to Dream.

“Before I forget, Sapnap mentioned that you had a guardian- The two of you have been gone for quite awhile. It’s been almost a full day. Have you been able to contact them? I imagine they’re quite worried about you by now.” 

Oh, That was longer than Dream thought they’d been gone, but XD wouldn’t be worried. Dream had met him only a sunrise before he’d set out with Sapnap, so XD wouldn’t be looking for him for another few days. But Bad seemed to think that XD should be, which was weird. He’d need to pick his words carefully. 

“My guardian won’t be worried. They can always find me if they need to. If Sapnap’s okay then I should probably head home though. The hot chocolate was very nice though, thank you for making it.”

That seemed to alarm the demon, as Dream shrugged off the slightly scratchy blanket and offered the now empty mug back to him. His tail quickly lashed back and forth, something that set Dream on edge. 

“Wait, that’s not- I mean, it’s past nightfall. Mobs will be out right now. It’s not safe for you to walk back alone. Maybe your guardian could come pick you up? Or if you could wait just a little, Skeppy should be back soon. He was out looking for Sapnap, he could stay here and I could walk you back home?”

Uh. Dream had to pause in confusion. Why would it not be safe to walk at night? Night was very safe. It was when there were friends around that would give Dream directions or let him know about dangers. Plus it felt like home. It reminded him of the comfort of the void. His eyes weren’t quite as good at seeing in the dark as they used to be, but he was still well adjusted to it. Night felt far safer than day, it was much easier to go unnoticed. It was also easier to navigate when he had familiar stars above him. He also felt more connected to XD at night. It was far easier to call his guardian under the cover of darkness. 

Demons were from the nether, right? The nether didn’t have nights, so maybe that was why Bad was scared of them? That made sense to Dream, so he tried to explain, 

“I know night might seem scary, new things often seem scary, but it’s actually very safe! I know you don’t have it in the nether, but it’s a lot like day, it’s just darker. Your eyes get used to it pretty quickly. Maybe. I mean, my eyes get used to it quickly. I dunno about demon eyes. But once you learn how it works, you can use the stars to figure out where you are.” He gestured widely, trying to convey the wonders of the sky. (sometimes he missed flying, most times he missed flying). 

“Mobs really aren’t that scary either. They don’t bother you unless you bother them, and some of them are actually quite nice. Enderman are very nice and very safe. They help me reach fruit sometimes, and one even helped me get down from a very tall tree.”

He was trying to be comforting, Bad was probably just unused to the overworld, but the demon’s brow furrowed further and he seemed… confused? More so than before. And then his eyes fixed on Dream’s mask and went wide in some sort of realization. 

“Ah- I supposed that would make it a bit safer. Still, you’re too young to be out there alone. I would feel a lot better if someone was walking you back. You said they can find you- could you call them? Surely they wouldn’t mind coming to take you home?”

If Dream asked, he was sure that XD wouldn’t mind coming to take him back home. It actually would probably be nice, his legs were very tired and achy. Night was comforting, but it was also cold. But… XD was very nervous about strangers. He might not want to be seen. He might be worried about this demon or about Sapnap. Dream didn’t want his guardian getting nervous. So he stretched the truth a little.

“They’ll be with me. I’m never walking home alone, particularly not at night. If anything happens that I can’t handle, they’ll be there.” As he made his assurances, Dream shuffled his way to the door, with Bad hovering nearby. Not stopping him, but clearly not quite convinced. Hm. Oh! Right at the edge of his hearing, Dream heard a familiar noise. Something that reminded him of home. 

Throwing open the door, he called out with a loud VROOP and got a low whirr in response before a familiar black and purple figure strode out from the forest.

The enderman was tall, most of them were, and it seemed happy to see him. It did seem… nervous? Probably the lights of the house. It was a bit much. But it held out a clawed hand that Dream happily took before looking back towards Bad. 

Weirdly enough, the demon was looking at the floor he seemed… scared? Had he never met an enderman before? They were very nice. Or maybe there was something important about the floor? Oh well, Dream needed to get going.

“Okay, I have someone to walk with me now, so I’m gonna get going home. Goodbye, Bad! Thank you for the hot chocolate!” 

With his thanks given, he led the enderman out of the yard and into the dark, feeling his guardian’s presence wrap around him as he did so. The soreness in his muscles eased and he felt a new spring in his step as he hurried along back towards his treehouse, back towards home where safety awaited.