#holding back from gushing. 24/7

[sttoru]

⟣ note. ehem, this was based of a request but didnt show in tags so i hadta repost again bcs tumblr hates me from time to time

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. pure fluff. hearing baby megumi’s first words.

it wasn’t unusual for you to get terrorised by your husband when you have megumi in your arms, but lately, it’s been getting worse. your son was at that stage where he was babbling nonsense, trying to create words that actually do make sense. megumi was most active in your embrace, where you’d encourage the little boy to say his first audible word; ‘mama’.

“say ‘pa-pa’, c’mon buddy.”

but of course, your husband desires otherwise.

toji was cuddled up with you on the couch and had his arm wrapped around your shoulders whilst megumi was on your lap. toji held one hand out towards his son so he could tap against it—megumi taking the opportunity to slam his tiny hands against his dad’s rough palm as hard as possible.

“mm, bla-bla!” megumi blabbers, pouty lips covered in saliva due to him constantly using his mouth to talk to his parents. in his own baby language.

“oh, that was close,” you hum and lean your head back against toji’s chest, “i can’t lose now—c’mon ‘gumi, say ma-ma!”

your husband grins as you make a competition out of the situation. he wasn’t one to back down either;

“no, pa-pa.” toji reminds his son, bringing the attention back to him by gently wiping the drool from megumi’s chin with the pad of his thumb, “i’ll give ya snacks if you do.”

it seems like you were both determined to catch megumi’s first word in person. the small child was in his own world in the meanwhile, still smacking toji’s big hand as if it was the most fun activity to do.

“mbwah.. pa!”

toji’s face lights up and he takes the chance to snatch megumi from your lap, lifting the boy up in the air, his chubby legs kicking around as your husband held him up above the two of you; “almost there, buddy— c’mon, say it twice. papa.”

you both look on in anticipation. your gaze landed on toji’s face and you swore that you felt your knees go weak. you haven’t seen toji look this excited for something in a good while—his lips tugging up in a bright, soft smile instead of his usual grin, eyes sparkling whilst they glance up at megumi.

you were sure that you’d be fine if megumi’s first word were going to be ‘papa’, toji deserved it. plus, you’d love to see him gush and be happy about that achievement (though you don’t look forward to hearing your husband brag about it 24/7).

“papa. pa-pa.” toji tries to coax his son out of pure excitement. megumi was cooing and babbling other incoherent stuff, but that didn’t stop his father from trying again and again.

you looked up at your son and waited for the moment to come—to hear the first word spill from your baby’s lips.

megumi looked down at toji who held him up above the two of you, his blue orbs going from his mom to his dad, making grabby hands towards both, tiny mouth opened the entire time;

his saliva gathered near the corner of his lips as he tried to figure out what to try and say next. both toji and you were too caught up to even notice the small trail of saliva trickling down his bottom lip. the string of drool ended up falling right on your husband’s eye;

“hey!” toji groans, putting megumi back down on his thighs and giving the baby a gentle pinch on the cheek, “do ya hate y’r daddy that much?”

“you okay?” you grin and use the sleeve of your sweater to wipe the drool away from toji’s face. the dark-haired man nods at you with a feign smirk on his lips as he then randomly decides to be overdramatic again in front of your son.

“ugh, no,” toji hisses and holds his hand up to his right eye, acting like he was in immense pain in front of megumi. you roll your eyes at toji’s dramatics, however the little boy didn’t look as unfazed as you; “papa’s hurting—ouch.”

megumi stops anything he was doing and tilts his head a bit, bottom lip trembling as he realises that his dad was ‘hurt’ and now groaning in pain. his arms reach out towards toji;

“pa..pa? papa?”

silence. both toji and you were stunned to the core. you looked at toji and he looked back at you— both trying to confirm that what you heard was indeed megumi’s first word.

as if on cue, megumi’s adorable voice calls out for his dad again, hands still tapping against toji’s cheek; “papa?”

toji stares at him with a shocked expression for a few more seconds before finally hugging megumi tightly to his chest—a confused noise leaving your child’s lips at the suddenness of the affection.

“my boy,” toji sighs, his nose nuzzling against megumi’s small neck, causing the little boy to laugh at the ticklish feeling, “my boy.”

you can’t help but smile at the sight—toji hugging your son like his life depended on it (but not too much to the point that it’d be suffocating), megumi almost disappearing from sight as toji’s big body enveloped him entirely—the blue locks sticking out were the only indication of your son still being present.

toji wasn’t going to free megumi from his embrace any time soon. the new emotions he was feeling were overwhelming—too much so that you started to question if he was actually tearing up. you couldn’t see his face, but you could sense something changing in the air;

“aww, come here—both of you.” you hum and join the family group hug, rubbing toji’s back whilst kissing his forehead.

a new core memory was created and you were more than content with the outcome.

. . .

[togament]

Hello ✨

How are you doing? It has been a while, since I've been so obsessed with an anime and an anime boy at that 😩 Could I ask for general romantic to naughty Headcanons for Hayato Suo with a female reader?

It would be absolutely lovely 💕 Thank you

hullo, anon! welcome welcome to the winbre fandom ✨ pull up a chair, relax and brainrot with us why wontcha?

suo is such an enigma — he’s so hard to read but he’s so… open at the same time? love him to bits tho. ok onto the romantic, sappy, filthy and sexy headcanons for our eye-patch having pretty boy.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : fem!reader, suo eaaaaats, suo's mean :c, READER BEGS, heavy on the teasing

NSFW under the cut later. so pls, MDNI ok? besitos mua.

S F W .

absolute gentleman. this man will open doors for you, hold your purse without any embarrassment, bring you 'just because' bouquets and celebratory bouquets, wine and dine you. you are absolutely a spoiled son of a gun with suo everybody around you is kinda jealous of it.

loves it when you smell him. LOOK AT HIM AND TELL ME HE DOESN'T LOOK LIKE HE SMELLS GREAT. I DARE YOU. DOUBLE DARE YOU. he rarely ever breaks a sweat in fights and on hot summer days it's weird. he finds it endearing when you lean close to him to smell his shirt or coat. (he sneaks in forehead kisses that way :)))))) ) ((he smells lightly of soap, heavy on the sandalwood incense, clove and patchouli and you can't tell me otherwise.))

has to have your hand in his at all times. no matter what. he likes teasing sakura and nirei whenever he catches them eyeing you both subtly (little shit). if you're averse to physical touch, don't fret. just having you close to him is enough.

is great at giving massages. LISTEN. have you seen his hands? HI??? your man gives you the best back rubs, can wring out the worst knots on your body like no big deal. it's almost like it comes naturally for him. soft pressure? he's got you. medium? sure. hard pressure? "are you certain, dove?" well... okay.

HEAVY ON THE ACTS OF SERVICE. he is at your beck and call 24/7. a lover, personal chef, masseuse, help and a bodyguard rolled into one. he does anything and everything for you without questioning it. he's just happy you're happy.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

N S F W .

absolute gentleman has a mean streak. "you're gushing all over me, dove." he coos against your skin, a nasty smirk painted across his beautiful features. his fingers expertly prodding you. fuck. he knows your body better than you do. "give me another." he adds harshly, his tone a dark contrast from his previous softness. he's pulling another orgasm from your cunt. the naughty, wet squelching reverberating through your bedroom. he loves fucking you slow but god he loves it even more when you're a quivering, fucked out mess on his fingers. his little doll.

loves it when you smell him loves smelling you. ever notice your favorite panties disappearing from your laundry hamper only to have it materialize in your closet, neatly folded? you could have sworn you didn't wash and fold it-- blame your lover. he likes stealing your used panties, holding it to his nose as he takes a deep inhale. his other hand is on his pretty cock, pumping desperately, animalistic. it doesn't even seem like it's him at that moment. when he eats you out, first thing you feel touch your cunt isn't his tongue. it's always, always his nose.

has to have his hand in his at all times has to have his fingers stuffed inside you at all times. as soon as you both are alone, he's all over you. panties slid to the side, alternating between rubbing your clit and fucking you on his slender fingers. he needs you to get a quick nut out for him before the others return -- can you manage?

is great at giving massages--and loves teasing you while doing it. "s-suo.. please..." you whimper below him while he's massaging your thighs, brushing his fingers against your cunt but just missing it by a little bit. he chuckles, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. "relax, dove. you're tensing up again." he says as he does it again, now fully rubbing your clit for a moment before pulling away abruptly. you curse under your breath. "don't tell me you want me to stop." he teases, an annoying lilt to his voice. he knows what he's doing to you.

HEAVY ON THE ACTS OF SERVICE loves giving and giving and giving. this man. THIS MAN. he loves eating pussy. and I mean LOVES eating pussy. he could bust from eating you out alone -- he's not even jacking himself off. he's soiled a couple of his pants before. you wouldn't know. he loves listening to your breathing go from soft heaves to staggered. if you wanted to ask him to eat you out, he's already on his knees before you finish your sentence. make sure you're ready to cum more than 3 times.

a/n: ehe this was fun. suo's so fun to write. he's so filthyyyyyy UGHHHHHHHHH. i hope you liked it, bbs.

[mellifiedprincess]

REALLY SHORT BUT SAPPY SHIT! and boob talk for like 2 seconds.

Opening the door to the house you share with the boys, you immediately take notice of the lack of noise that usually takes place.

You can’t say you’re not a little bit grateful, especially after working a 12 hour shift as a peds nurse. It was not a good day to say the least. All you wanted in that very moment was a hot shower and to be wrapped up in the arms of your ridiculously handsome boyfriend.

Closing the door to the garage, you walk over to Chris’s door and softly knock waiting to hear a response. “Yeah?” You peek your head in and see the boy at his desk, headset on and eyes focused on the monitor in front of him. “Oh, hey Y/N/N- Yeah, she just walked in.” Chris replies to you and then who you assume to be Matt through the headset. “Hey Chrissy, just checking in before I head upstairs. You okay?” This was part of your nightly routine. You couldn’t really remember when it started, but you always had to check on Chris and Nick before going to bed. Otherwise you couldn’t sleep.

“Yeah, I’m good. Matt’s yelling in my ear right now asking for you to hurry up. Kids acting like you just got back from war.” You let out a soft laugh at his remark. “I need to check on Nick, then I’ll be in there.” “Oh Nicks gone. He went to hang out with Larray and Arrington.”

“Alright. Well, try to get some sleep. You guys have that really important meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Oh shit! I totally forgot about that. Thanks.” You nod your head and you both say goodnight, before you turn and finally make your way to your bedroom.

When you open the door, your eyes find Matt’s already staring at you. He looks so…soft. Soft and warm and inviting. “Finally!” He huffs out. You can’t help but laugh at him as you walk over to where he sits at his desk. “I missed you so much today.” His voice is muffled by his face being smushed into your stomach, his arms tightly wrapped around you as if you were gonna leave him.

“I missed you too angel.” Your fingers push his hair away from his forehead, and you lean down to place a gentle kiss to his hairline. “I do need to shower though, and then I’m all yours.” A very audible whine leaves his mouth and he pulls you down into his lap, and immediately shoves his face into your neck.

“Can’t you shower in the morning? I wanna keep holding you.”

You’re convinced your heart just melted in your chest from how sweet your boyfriend is. “How about you come sit in the bathroom while I shower? You can tell me about your day.”

“Okay!” He jumps up at that and your eyes widen at the sudden movement. “Jeez Matty, warn me next time.”

“I’m just really excited to see your boobs.” That comment earns him a slap against his chest and an eye roll.

“You act like you don’t see them whenever you want, kid.” “I could have 24/7 visual of those things and it still wouldn’t be enough. Same thing with that pretty face of yours.”

You would never understand how he could be so sweet, yet disgusting at the same time.

You make it to the bathroom, and Matt places you back down on the floor before walking over to the shower to start the water for you. “I’ll be right back, baby.” He places a quick kiss to your lips and exits the bathroom.

When he returns, he’s holding a pair of fresh love sweatpants, clean underwear, and an old t-shirt of his that you stole and claimed as yours a long time ago. “Ughh I love you!” You can’t help but exclaim before pulling him closer to plant another quick kiss to his lips. “I love you way more though. No argument there.”

And Matt really believed that.

The love he felt for you was soul consuming. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“That’s not fair. I love you just as much as you love me! You’re the sun in my freaking sky Matthew.” You pout. Pout. And Matt can’t help but gush at how fucking cute you are.

He looks down at you, your arms wrapped around his waist, and he swears to himself that he would be the sun in your sky for the rest of your lives. And he knew what you meant by that, but being the sun in someone’s sky is nothing compared to being someone’s moon.

And you were his moon. Full of love and hope. The most nurturing person he knew, always taking care of others before yourself, especially him and his brothers. And you were always so calm, which helped a lot when he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Okay, sweet girl. Let’s get you in the shower so we can go to bed. I know you’re probably exhausted.” He softly pats your hip, and moves so you can get undressed and finally shower.

Later that night when you finally retreat to bed, your head lies on Matt’s chest, sleep calling your name so softly you can barely keep your eyes open. Matt just watches you. He watches as your chest slowly rises and falls, and your breathing slows. He watches as you curl into his side even more. But he knew you weren’t quite asleep yet, because this man knew every minor detail about you.

So, when you reach for his hand and bring it to your lips before squeezing it against your chest, where it would stay for the rest of the night, he knew you were finally asleep.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

literally can't stop thing about highschoolsweetheart!au where darling is 24/7 clinging onto a slightly annoyed/frustrated könig's arm, autistically chatting his ear off about random things like cute cat videos that she saw, dinosaurs or art, gushing about how much she loves him, how utterly handsome he's looking and that they're absolutely meant to be!! 🥺 always nuzzling him and pressing sweet kisses to his face.

until... maybe he snaps and shuts her up :// not in a nice way. maybe i'm projecting here, but i've been silenced before and it did nasty things to me. (bit of advice for unknowing peeps, don't make autistic people stop rambling, if you can help it. let them down gently if you must 💌)

back to our sheep... she suddenly shuts in. doesn't chat as much as before, slowly sticking to only utilitarian stuff. avoids his gaze oftenly, gradually starting to keep her distance, stops initiating affectionate things. she still absolutely adores him, but she's hurt, heart constricting in her chest. thinks she's doing him a service by listening to his 'request' at shutting the hell up, thinking she's making him happier. she's still itching to babble, making an active effort at stoping herself from going back to her rambling habits.

how would könig feel? react?

imagine what would it be like, if after some time of this distance, at a social gathering or something, he sees a man approaching her. another MAN!! how is this possible?? and he's... he's asking her about things? looking interested in her talk, eyeing her up and down??

would you do me the honour of tormenting this poor man for me? :33

Her ramblings were cute at first, then they started to go in one ear and out the other. König has a budding tinnitus from work and only wants to rest, but she skitters to him like a lovesick cat, climbs into his lap, and starts to talk his ear off about attachment styles and some pop psychology.

The enthusiasm in her eyes is what bothers him the most – he’s hit with envy, bright hot and red, because he has no time for intellectual interests these days. There's nothing but gun oil and gym to keep him busy. He was supposed to become either a philosopher or a fighter, but since they said philosophers can’t get pussy, he chose the other option (and still got little to no pussy), sad wanker as he was back then.

He either doesn’t know what the hell she is talking about or, he would want to discuss with her about the subjects she’s into, so much in fact that it would soon become an autistic competition of its own. But the deeply ingrained memory of being called a scrawny nerd is keeping his mouth shut even now, when he’s approaching his mid-thirties.

So he tells her she should read an actual book about the subject and stop filling her head with nonsense layman theories.

It hurts; it fucking burns, the mute, helpless stare she shoots at him. She scoots away, sorely upset, and won’t come back to him before the evening fall.

There's no cute noises and kisses peppered all over his face, no dangling from his neck and prattling away about the differences between C. S. Lewis and Tolkien; no videos where a cat tries to fish the last pringles with its paw or memes that remind her of him. There's just a broken girl and a knife in his heart, but he’s too ashamed and proud to apologize.

And so she comes back to him when he won't go to her, the deep yearning always overthrowing her pride. It feeds his self loath by gallons: she's better than him, always has been.

She hugs his middle when they lie down to sleep, forehead pressed against his upper back. She’s too small to reach the back of his neck, but she won’t wriggle upwards like an adorable little worm to place a kiss there like she used to. Just falls asleep with a sigh, holding him tight.

His sleep arrives only after hours have passed, and the knife inside his heart has finally done its duty and euthanized the whole organ.

They never talk about it: but she prattles far less nonsense to him now. He nearly breaks the silence one day and asks her about the Myers Pigs test or whatever it was called, see if she would crack open from her shell and laugh. He could coax her to tell him what her newest interest is nowadays, what makes her eyes bright and shiny when he’s away. But he’s too fucking ashamed, too goddamm proud to tell her that she’s annoyingly cute when she talks so much and that he fucking loves her for that. That she’s the silliest girl he’s ever met and if he had a hat, he would take it off every time she wanted to share another monologue.

If he had the balls, he would ask if she had all this madness inside her when they were kids but never had the courage to spill it out… If he's the only person she has allowed to see this side of her without fear.

...

He returns to the party after having a smoke – a bad habit everytime he knows he's about to down a few beers – only to see she’s engaged in a heated conversation with some other guy.

Or, the guy is asking questions, while his girl is about to burst out of her dress from the eagerness to tell him everything about some new hyperfixation of hers. Something she hasn’t really shared with him; not anymore...

The knife is still in his heart, it seems, because it twists. Violently.

He looks for a weapon to defend himself: an empty beer bottle, a knife on the table, an untended umbrella by the door; his fists, ungloved. It’s just a routine check, a simple habit that was hammered in his system years ago, and of course this is not the time or the place for violence. He just… fantasizes about stabbing that guy in the liver with some blunt cutlery, pounding his ribs to pieces until his knuckles bleed with jealousy. He even fantasizes her screams when she sees what kind of a man he really is: a weak wanker who turned into a pitiful beast of a man.

These flashes take only a second or two, then he squares his shoulders and goes to get his girl back.

“How about we dance,” he offers his hand to her, palm up like the other guy was made of air – or not even that.

Her eyes light up with surprise, pure, undiluted hope, her interest in her chat companion now completely gone.

“You... You want to dance?”

His lips compress into a thin line, his nostrils flaring from the need to either claim her right on this floor or turn and beat the competing dick beside him into a pulp.

Then her hand finds his, her soft little smile pulls him back, her eyes now shining to him and only him.

It’s a slow one, the song, and he only notices it when she lifts her hands and cups the back of his neck. Tingles shoot down his spine and send a curious little twitch down his dick – even his testes pull up a notch. They’ve fucked a thousand times, and still, she has this effect on him... All she needs to do is smile and touch his neck, and his body answers; he’s hers.

“Does this mean you like me…?” She asks with a playful smile when his hands come to naturally claim her waist.

“...What?”

“You saw me with that guy and came to whisk me away.”

He tries to avoid her stare, fakes to steal a glimpse at the other pairs dancing, but it’s challenging when she looks at him like… like that.

“He was drooling all over you back there,” he mutters.

“...Oh? So you came to save me?”

“You have difficulty saying no.”

She's relaxed, while he's stiff, the adrenaline leaving him slowly and with a rising boner. It doesn't help that she's drawing little circles on his skin, right there where it tickles and sends more pulls down his cock.

He tries to breathe deep and slow, but it doesn’t really work much. There are times when he gets a hard-on from her playing with his hair or brushing a set of fingertips across his nipple, and then there are times when he really wishes she wouldn’t do shit like this. Not when they’re at a party and he almost had a temper tantrum in front of everyone.

“König… You never dance,” she says with a weighted stare. He answers it with a heavy glare of his own, eyes that should tell her enough about his true feelings for her.

There’s a thin line between love and hate, but never has he felt this undeniable truth as acutely as he has with her...

“If you don’t stop with the tickling I’m going to have to take you upstairs for a fuck.”

Her tiny little fingers stop immediately, but her eyes shine brighter than ever before. From shock, love, or awe, who knows. Then she picks up that annoying habit again, a bit too keenly to convey any kind of actual fear.

“You’re begging for it, aren’t you...?” He comments with genuine contempt.

“...Yes?” She answers with a breath of a smile, pure love in her stare.

He grunts as if tired, then scoops her up, right there on the dance floor and takes her upstairs when everyone can see.

“You like me. Admit it,” she babbles when he carries her inside some guest bedroom and kicks the door shut, with her snug and smiling in his arms.

“Yes, yes. You can tell me all about everything when I’m done with you.”

“All about everything?” She giggles as he throws her on the bed and starts to take off his shirt. Her eyes shoot to his pecs, then to his fingers when he unzips his pants. There's no lie, no deceit in that stare, just adoration and want.

“First you have to be quiet. Think you can manage that?”

She opens her pink little mouth, then shuts it, starts to nod like a broken doll.

When he eventually slides in, the poor doll whimpers, just like he thought.

"Hush," he gruffs, but doesn't cover her mouth.

He can have a little taste, a sip, a treat... Because the knife in his heart stops rattling only when he makes love to her – he does that often, even if he calls it 'fucking' in his mind.

[yandere-daydreams]

Feel free to ignore this! I'm just v sleep deprived and having brain rot inspired by some things I saw in ur writing and thought it may be up ur alley. Also this brainrot thingy is mainly aimed at readers who have the ability to get pregnant so if that don't sit right with you feel free to ignore it or change aspects of it!

Hear me out right. A mix of the sex doll au and hybrid au (either fox or husky) for childe. But like in the doll au how he replaces components as a form of trying to live out the dad fantasy? Yeah that but in the hybrid au. Like reader is trying to rehabilitate this poor little baby fox kit/husky puppy that's really sickly and was abandoned. Childe basically looks at the reader playing nurse/mommy for this poor thing almost 24/7 (his attention is being deprived lol) and goes "oh yeah that little one is ours duh". He starts exhibiting protective dad behavior while simultaneously being like "look at how good of a job I can do".

Follow up to that the pup/kit either gets better and can be handed off to another conservationist who has other young hybrids and would do a better job at caring for them in a group environment with other hybrid kiddos so there's less of a risk of em becoming too domesticated. And reader is supper bummed out about it for a while bc all their attention was zoned in on this one really precious little one and now they've moved onto bigger pastures 🥲. Meanwhile childe sees this and is like "oh now I can both console my mate in their grief, I've proven I'm a capable partner, I can totally help them make new little ones!"

Take all of that inspo/brainstorming as u will. Also if you consider people submitting ideas as commissions I apologize for misunderstanding! Did not intend to overstep 🙇‍♀️

tw - implied violence, child neglect/abandonment, and obsessive behavior.

fjdkljdfksdj i think this would probably be more plausible with husky!childe, but something about this scenario with fox!childe is just,,,

it'd just be so sweet to watch him dote over the tiny, terrified kit one of your friends found shivering in a snowbank. you really aren't qualified to take care of such a young hybrid, but while you scramble to get a hold of a more experienced volunteer, childe picks up the slack. despite being old enough to walk, the poor thing barely leaves his arms. he handles their near-hourly feedings, modifies the ill-fitting clothes you pull out of storage to accommodate their tail and hind legs, even lets them crawl between you and him at night and violate his cardinal rule (no one else gets to so much as touch your bed except for him - an unspoken law that's resulted in more than a few bitten hands and bleeding guests). he does his best to put a dent in their never-ending energy, and when it's time for you to take over, he's never more than a few feet away, wagging his tail as you take the kit's temperature and try to convince them to swallow a few drops of medicine. and, when you finally contact a volunteer with a small shelter and a pack of orphaned kits, childe seems as happy as you are, rubbing his cheek against theirs as he tells them that they'll be home soon enough. it's sweet, even if fox-hybrid dynamics are, admittedly, a little lost on you. honestly, you're just relieved you'll be able to sleep through the night again.

at least, you're relieved until you get back from work the next day, until you find your door unlocked and your apartment wrecked, furniture overturned and rust-colored stains soaked into your carpeting. you find childe on the foot of your bed, bouncing a crying kit in his lap and gushing them quietly, but he doesn't look concerned. if anything, his posture is slack, the smile written across his face nothing short of ecstatic. he looks calm. he looks happy.

he looks like someone who only just found his way home.

[iamderp07]

Meet Eddie Dear's Family! These are my new Welcome Home Original Characters (WH OCs) that I created based on Eddie Dear, one of my favorite WH characters! It took me a while to finish them, but I'm happy to have them out of my head!

Some Dear Siblings HeadCanon/Fanon Facts down below 🤣👇

1. Their parents are Elizabeth and Eddison Dear. Beth is from Texas, and Edd is from Louisiana.

2. Emmett is the oldest among the three Dear siblings, and Eddie is the youngest. Ellie is the middle child and the one and only daughter of Beth and Edd (All of them are equally loved, don't worry 😆🤣👍).

3. Emmett is 8 years older than Eddie, while Ellie is 4 years older than Eddie.

4. Eddison and Emmett work at the family-owned hardware shop, with Emmett often handling deliveries using his truck. Beth works at the family post office, where she used to work alongside Eddie. Meanwhile, Ellie owns a diner that was passed down from her grandparents.

5. The Dear siblings all have mitten like hands! Though Ellie has more feminine ones. Perfect for hugging their friends, neighbors, partners, and of course each other!

6. Eddie frequently stays connected with his family through phone calls and mail. ☎️📬

And I like to think that they've added a personal touch to their letters by using custom designed letters, each serving as a unique signature from every family member.

7. Emmett inherited his name from their great-grandfather on their mother's side, while Ellie and Eddie's names were derived from their parents' names - a shortened and endearing version:

Elizabeth - Ellie

Eddison - Eddie

8. Ellie and Eddie talk a lot about their day via phone call-A LOT. During late-night conversations, they end up talking for hours. Eddie often shares a lot with her about Frank, and she loves listening to her brother gush about him.

9. Emmett and Eddie also talk via phone, where Emmett tends to let Eddie take the lead in the conversation. There are times when Emmett ends up dozing off but still holds onto the phone.

10. During calls and when together, Emmett assists Eddie in managing his forgetfulness, much like their father. Emmett provides advice and solutions, especially when he notices Eddie in need of help or feeling troubled. Ellie also contributes in a similar supportive manner.

11. Eddie and Ellie are often mistaken for twins based on their looks and close sibling bond. Ellie actually gets flattered whenever someone mentions this because it makes her feel younger.

12. Among the three siblings, Ellie and Eddie have shared a close bond since childhood (probably because of the short age gap and since Emmett works a lot with their Pa). Despite Emmett being the more reserved and stoic one, all three of them have a good sibling relationship.

13. Emmett is usually fine with receiving hugs but occasionally gives one.

14. Emmett's instrument of choice is the guitar, while Ellie likes to play the harmonica. Eddison bought Ellie her own harmonica for her 12th birthday, and she has always carried it around with her since then.

15. Ellie and Emmett had their Mailman/Mailwoman phase.

16. Ellie is lesbian while Emmett just assumes he is cisgender. He wrong, he is actually bisexual ufhsjgkxxjgz

17. Ellie is like the second mom of the family.

18. At some points during the year, Eddie heads back to his hometown to visit his family.

19. Ellie has a terrible fear of heights.

20. One of the reasons why Eddie has a fear of bugs is probably because of Ellie.

21. Emmett would bring Eddie alongside him during his deliveries when Eddie is around and available.

22. When Ellie and Emmett first arrived in the Welcome Home Neighborhood, Wally somehow mistook them as Eddie's parents. This made Eddie laugh.

23. Emmett is actually good friends with Howdy and Barnaby. Howdy and Emmett would talk about business, while he and Barnaby tell each other jokes.

24. Ellie actually has good balance and poise. But gets all clumsy when she's flustered.

25. Ellie has a crush on one of Julie Joyful's siblings. Specifically, she has a crush on Franny Joyful.

[kokushibosbestie]

Lil Zeyn_Syre Crush Headcanons ♡

A/N: I literally thought of these at 3am but I was too tired to grab my laptop so here we are! BTW, this isn't anything fancy, these are just me being delusional and sharing it with my luvs. <3

WARNINGS: Slight cussing, mention of death, possible spoilers for Zeyn_Syre's OCS, fluff, crushing.

Christian Dean ☆

BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPEEE

I swear, he will blatantly stare at you and doesn't care if you notice

And he'd definitely flirt a LOT

the teasing is REAL. Like, prepare to be teased ALL the time

If you're not okay with being touched, he'll keep his hands to himself but there is going to be a lot of touching otherwise

Hand kisses, putting his hand on your thigh/knee, arm around you/on waist, ruffling/playing with your hair 😩😩😩

And he does this even before y'all get together bc why not?

You and his sister HAVE to get along because now you're apart of his "I would will kill for you" list 😊

Dirty jokes 24/7

Pet names: Baby, babe, love, princess/prince, gorgeous, handsome, etc.

"Damn love, you're fucking sexy. Not sure if I can keep my hands off of you baby~" AHHHHHH

COMPLIMENTS COMPLIMENTS COMPLIMENTS 😳😳😳

Tbh tho, he is traumatized from his previous crush Destiny, who died, so he's gonna deny it for a while

So be gentle pls, he just wants to be loved without having to lose someone for once

SUPPPPPPERRRR PROTECTIVEEE

If another guy even LOOKS at you in a flirty way, he's going to death glare them until they leave typa protective

So imagine what would happen if someone touched you 💀

if you tell him that someone did something to you that hurt you emotionally or physically, even if it was 3 years ago; he's gonna find them and they're gonna go missing- 😀

And, no matter how tall you are or how much you weigh, he will still throw you over his back and carry you around like you don't weigh anything- 😘

Or hold you bridal style

He will listen to you rant for hours, just listening to you talk

little "mhm,"'s "yeah?"'s and "hm"'s while you're talking

and he will never, EVER cut you off while your ranting and will only speak when you're finished

AJSMDKWKCNWKQKDBCJFBWLFIQBCKRKQB-

You fell first, he fell harder ☆

Micah ▨

Fuc me emo boy fuc me emo boy

AHEM

SOFTIE AHHJHHFDKKDEKQKNAMW

Sorry-

He's so adorable

Turns BRIGHT RED if you even stand a foot away. 🤗

Headpat slut

Also enjoys listening to you talk

Will let you touch him, but doesn't really touch you

The most he'll do is hold your hand and pat your head

And an occasional hug here and there

But he's the jealous af kinda protective

Writes poems and songs about you but will never share them with you because he thinks you don't like him

Compliments here and there

He just calls you by your name or a preferred nickname, no pet names

You're the sun to his moon, no matter if you're an extrovert or introvert 😚

When you do stupid shit, he'll sigh loudly and ask you why your doing that 😭

ABSOLUTELY HAS A SPOTIFY PLAYLIST WITH OVER 400 SONGS THAT REMIND HIM OF YOU

Stay With Me, Dandelions, So This Is What Love Feels Like, etc.

He listens to that playlist with headphones on for hours in his room alone, just thinking about you

Boy is in loveeee 😌

Teaches you how to play the guitar

WILL NOT BE THE ONE WHO CONFESSES

but

if he does,

Its gonna be while you are talking gushing over your crush, which is him, but you don't tell him that part

"I'm sorry but I don't want to hear you gush over someone else like that! I want to be the one you're talking about! Why can't you see how much I like you what I'd do for you??"

He realizes what he said and apologized, before trying to leave you better not let him leave 😒

He fell first and harder ▨

Zeyn Dean ✿

Idk if her last name is Dean but I'm assuming so bc that's her brother's last name

She has a casual crush, but doesn't think too much about it unless you get close

Becomes a little quieter around you than normal 😀

LOVES HUGS

She loves going to the mall with you or teaching you how to play a sport

Study sessions if you go to school together

Will always remember every special date bc she's a good friend

SUPPPPPEERRRRRR EXTROVERTED AND LOVING 😘

Frequently makes jokes

Y'all be laughing at the worst dad jokes ever

MAKEOVERS AND SLEEPOVERS ALL THE TIME!!! 😍

Likes playing video games

Yk how little kids will do the most simple, easy thing to do and excitedly say "Mommy, daddy, look what I just did! Did you see that???"

Well that's her

If her brother approves of you, then she'll probably not confess. 😅

You're her best friend before you're anything else though

FRIENDSHIP FIRST 😎

Not the jealous type, she's a little too nice sometimes.

Singing Call Me Maybe, Rather Be, Stereo Hearts, and other upbeat songs all the time 😚

But she will get a little paranoid at times and calls you to make sure you're okay.

Pet names: Sweetheart, sunshine, and just a nickname

Holding hands: yes

Leaning on shoulder: Yes

Holding hands: YES

MY GIRL LOVES STARBURST AND TWIZLERS SO U BETTER GET HER SOME

anyways

She fell first, you fell harder and then she fell even HARDER. ✿

* * * These characters and art are NOT MINE, they Belong to Zeyn_Syre on Tiktok and YouTube. The writing is prompt and writing is mine, please do not claim, copy, or use it without my permission. Thank you! <3

[stoplickingmyneck]

fuck it. ronance wedding headcanons

- they def had an unofficial lil backyard “wedding” with the party back in the 90s. like, jeans and tee shirts and 15 dollar rings and eat hot dogs around a fire pit unofficial

- they kept those cheap ass rings on 24/7, and when they finally rusted and crumbled and were absolutely unwearable they put them in nancy’s ballerina trinket box, the one robin’s still fascinated by after all these years

- when they bought their first house (they move to indianapolis so nancy can work for the star btw, i feel like robin would be some sort of counselor too?), the first thing robin did was take a big ol bulletin board and nail it right to the bedroom wall. for the next twenty years it became their dream board, where they’d pin magazine clippings of suits and dresses, rings and bouquets and venues, dreaming of the day it could be their turn for real

- they have a record player in their kitchen and play cheesy slow music, elvis and frank sinatra typa stuff, while they cook or eat dinner or do work at the counter. every time a song that nancy likes comes on she begs robin to slow dance with her, and she grudgingly agrees every time. and robin fucking sucks. tripping over nothing, not knowing where to look or put her hands, getting flustered at every little move her girlfriend makes. nancy jokes that robin better not be like this during their first dance, and robin grumbles back that she’d rather hire a stunt double than suffer through this (she secretly loves it tho)

- attending weddings is so hard for them. not that they’re not happy for the couples, but because they know they might never get one of their own. when they get. home from max and lucas’ wedding, nancy breaks down in robin’s arms, sobbing that it would be so much easier if she were straight. robin holds her tight and reassures her so gently, and after she calms down they pull out the stack of wedding inspiration books they’ve acquired over the years, put on an old rom-com, settle side by side on the couch and stay up until 3 am gushing over ideas

- in 2015, the moment the announcement comes out that the supreme court legalized gay marriage, nancy speeds home from work, like, 20 miles over the speed limit and finds robin on the front steps, sobbing her eyeballs out, a big dumb grin on her face. nancy gets down on one knee right there on the driveway, not caring that it’s pouring rain and she doesn’t have a ring and and she looks like she just stepped out of the goddamn upside down. robin drops to the ground in front of her and kisses nancy harder than ever before

- nancy wants a traditional wedding. robin wants fun and unique, none of that “old-fashioned bullshit”. they butt heads over it constantly during the planning process, but slowly grow to adore each others’ styles and compromise on every detail

the invitations ^^^ they have a cute lil spring wedding right before their 50th birthdays😇

robin’s suit n nancy’s dress ^^^ nance would absolutely be the typa girl to wear karen’s old dress and robin would want the most basic, no frills suit to ever exist

their shoes ^^^ robin can barely stand on her own two feet so heels were out of the question. nancy spent weeks and weeks learning how to embroider just so she could surprise her fiance with cute flowered converse at their bridal shower. robin cried

their hair ^^^ idk what to caption this with lol

their flowers ^^^ ruth n rose colors, Nancy thought it was fucking hilarious when robin suggested it so it stuck. the idea of robin in a boutonniere makes me drool too

the ceremony n reception ^^^ nance wanted to get married in a big white church like she saw in movies when she was a little girl, robin wanted someplace quaint and cozy to spend the night surrounded by her best friends. worked out perfectly

their rings ^^^ adorbs

the cake^^^ robin would 100% take nancy's last name bc she worships her wife and fuck stereotypes

^^^ i like to think steve jokingly suggests they serve ice cream, a lil nod to their scoops days, not expecting robin to adore the idea and immediately write it down

best men steve and jonathan ^^^ they wouldn't have bridesmaids cuz what other women do they need in their lives tbh👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

other stuff:

-being apart for like 3 hours while they get ready is torture. before the ceremony they do that first look thingy where they're standing back to back on opposite sides of a wall and they're holding hands and they're so nervous and giggly and then they do a countdown and peek around and both of them just stand there in shock. like they just watched the sky open up and an angel fall to earth. and then nance throws her arms around robin's neck and they start bawling cuz they realize their 20-plus-year dream is coming true UGH. when they step back robin runs a finger through nancy's curls and whispers how she's as beautiful as the first time she laid eyes on her and nancy melts

-they walk down the aisle hand in hand, exchange long sappy handwritten vows, and fall so perfectly into place when they kiss. it's like a scene from a disney movie. not dry eye in the damn building

-at the reception, there's lil charcuterie boards at each table, and they serve wood-fired pizza cuz it's what they ate on their first date (plus it's robin's fave)

-steve and jonathan bring the HOUSE down with their best men speeches. steve's is full of embarrassing jokes about robin that make her face turn red, and when he brings up how she peed her pants in the russian lab she jokingly (kinda) threatens to slit his throat. jonathan's is so sweet and tender and you can tell he still loves nance so so much

-after the speeches robin excuses herself outside and comes back 5 minutes later with a guitar. she plays a song she wrote for nancy. it's generous heart. because maya is robin in this world and doesn't exist and tbh i don't care. it's incredible

-their first dance song is first day of my life by bright eyes

-i hate ted and idk anything aboutt robin's dad so they don't get dances whoops

-nancy cuts the cake because robin with knives is a death wish

-the ice cream cart is a huge hit (steve brags about it for years). robin's a chocolate girl and nancy's a lemon sorbet lover

-they drink champagne and dance to 80s music until the ceiling spins. around midnight nancy grabs robin's hand and pulls her through the crowd to the balcony. they sway there together under the stars, foreheads pressed together, pressing an occasional kiss to the other's cheek. in that moment, they both agree nothing on their dream board could be as good as this

-ALSO instead of a honeymoon they take a road trip, driving route 66 to california, stopping to take pictures at every little landmark and singing at the top of their lungs for hours💘

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Ik you're working hard on the next nycv chapter buuuuuut if it's okay can i ask for more cute pre-isekai!batsis stuff with the batboys 🥺 if you're okay with it ofc!

Oh I'm always down for writing stuff about NYCV, sure I'll do like some bullet points or something

Not a chapter but y'all get some NYCV stuff too! Also to those who haven't read it this should be readable without having prior knowledge of the series so feel free to sit back and enjoy some Batboys fluff!

Tag list since it's technically NYCV content: @gabytodd @peachydokii @marshmallow12435 @f0leysgurl @luminaaz @lolsnacks @akuri-shinsou @pansinspace @time-shardz @lovely-maryj @urminebutidontwantyou @y3oudsc @rainnyydaysworld  @underworlder @franini @mayo-0-o 

NYCV!Batsis & the Batboys

[Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Dick Grayson

As we all know, he's the first batsib, talk about a high bar to reach (ba dum tss), and luckily for you he was an amazing older brother.

Fun where it counts, doting 24/7, protective when the situation calls for it, and stern when he has to be. There's a reason why you looked up to him more than your father in some regards.

Whenever he's off on a mission somewhere far away, he sends you postcards. You keep them in a box under your bed and you haven't thrown a single one away! Each card had a cheesy joke written on them, something to make you smile while he was gone is how he signed them all off with.

There was one time he was on 'Babysitter Duty' (as they later put it) and you ended up staging a bank robbery in the ballroom while he played the Boy Wonder (of course) who saved the day! (Poor Alfred was nominated to be Condiment King).

He's actually insufferable, his coworkers used to hate him because of how often he'd pull his phone/wallet/photobook/whatever could physically hold your picture just to gush and say "Look at my baby sister isn't she perfect?!" "Dude, that's, like, a whole ass teenager" "Shut up."

Although you'd always shown interest in his vigilante work, up until after the whole "I will never be a vigilante thing" much later, Dick was always very very careful in keeping you away from it. Hell, you didn't even know he was a Robin until you wandered into his room one evening when he came back from patrol.

By the time you'd figured him out, he did everything he could to keep you away from harm's way. You just weren't trained to handle yourself, and Dick would be a leader before he was your brother, as much as he'd hate to admit it. So, to keep you safe, he kept you away.

But, when he was there, he made sure to be the best older brother you could ask for. Gifts, advice, jokes, confidants, anything you'd ask. After all, he had competition.

Jason Todd

AKA, the Competition. He's the next batsib you got and so far he apparently holds the title for 'Best Sibling' (according to a ranking system you didn't know about that's being score kept by Alfred, in second place is Cass, for those wondering).

If Dick was the doting older brother then Jason was the annoying one. The kind of brother to open the door to your room, stare at you for five minutes, and walk away like nothing happened. The kind of brother to pull a 'I'm not even bothering you!' kind of move.

But, when it comes down to it, oh this dude's taking a bullet for you. I mentioned it once in the story but he'd always wanted a younger sister and bam he got one, sure he thought you were a spoiled brat at first (and in some ways you were) but hell he's damn sure he'll keep you that way if it meant you'd always be, well, you.

There were some days he'd wonder what it would be like if you'd switched places. If he was the one with the silver spoon and you were the Gotham street rat and nope, shake that thought out of his head. Without you he's sure he'd have gone off the deep end in this vigilante shit.

As much as you'd argue that you both secretly hated each other, you'd remember the time when Jason broke his hand punching Conner Kent in the face. He'd just come back to the family and while you were both getting caught up, you let slip that you broke up because he fell in love with someone else and... whoops. Good thing Tim was there to talk some sense into him.

For the record, Conner did lose his footing, but he argues it's because he was caught off guard, while Jason swears up and down it's because the Lazarus Pit made him stronger, or something like that. You try not to think about it, you're surprised you're still allowed within Titan tower.

He'd never admit it, but of the batsibs he actually knows you best. If the others have questions about what you'd like or how you'd react to something they'd ask Jason. He'd always answer in a way that would wave them off, but he's never been wrong.

Jason, as cold-shouldered as he could be, he has a soft spot for you. If he ever saw you in trouble he's definitely going to step between whatever's going on, don't doubt him on that.

Tim Drake

The first younger brother and, in his argument, therefore the best. Ironically since he was the first younger one you did dote on him a little too much, being the one "good cop" figure in the manor while he was training to be a Robin.

Of course, though you were on the civilian side of things, he actually looked up to you in ways he never could with Dick or Bruce. While they're mainly for the vigilante stuff, you're just there to make sure he doesn't forget who he is: Timothy Drake and not just a Robin.

You were really trying to replicate what your older brothers did for you with Tim, though it was only a little more difficult with his background. Hard to get gifts for someone who probably already has it, and hard to keep secrets and surprises from someone who's good at figuring them out, but you always figured out a way, and those ways always made him happy to see.

Thursdays are Tim and (Y/N) days, everyone in the family knows it. It started out as a mini tradition to get Tim out of the house every now and then and soon it became routine, it was the time you both took to catch up with each other and this especially became true after you went to college. Those times were precious for him, and he always looked forward to it.

Until, that is, other members started crashing it. It started with Dick coincidentally running into you both and suddenly now Jason's already sitting at your booth? And Stephanie? And Cass? Barbara?! What happened to Tim and (Y/N) time?!

But, he had to admit, it was rare to see them all getting along well like this. He couldn't complain, as long as you all got to spend time together that's all that mattered. And, in the end, it was always you two anyway. You are one of his greatest confidants, and he is one of yours likewise. Despite the short age gap, you often found that you shared a lot in common with him. Maybe it was because of your similar backgrounds, or maybe it was because you doted on him so much.

Tim looks up to you. More than you think, and more that you'd expect. Every time you reminded him that you were just a civilian part of it seemed wrong to him. You're as much a part of the family as he is, or as anyone is, and usually it would be him to remind you of that when he caught you distancing yourself again.

You couldn't hide anything from each other, you could read him so easily and he was just good at finding things out. And when it came to being middle siblings, well, that's a pact in and of itself.

Damian Wayne

When you'd heard about getting another younger brother, a blood related one at that, you were ecstatic. Of course, you had Tim, but Tim had his responsibilities to the Drakes too, Damian was a Wayne and so were you, it was a little different.

Sure, his appearance was... sudden. His first impressions not so great either, but you could read him well. He was so young when he came into your father's care and underneath the harsh training and the poisoned words was still that little boy he is and you were determined to help him remember that it was okay to be a boy.

Taking him to the arcade, buying him books, and treating him out for meals were just a few points off of a list of things you've done to make him feel comfortable. You're not a vigilante, you can't help him with training or anything else, but you can help him in other ways and you tried to show that to him.

It took forever. Maybe about a year or so for him to finally open up to you, but once he did it was like a triumph to you, and you knew that you did well when one day you woke up and saw him fast asleep at the foot of your bed, still clad in pajamas and eyes slightly puffy from whatever happened the night before. He's still a boy. You'd remind that to everyone when necessary.

After a while, he would come to you to ask about civilian things, troubles at school, troubles with making friends, and even troubles at galas. And every time you were there to help him out, giving him a few tips and tricks on how to avoid the paprazzi, maybe a clue here and there about what to look out for when looking for friends, and, of course, study tips so he didn't lose his mind in academy.

One day, while waiting to pick him up, there was a knock at your window. It was a woman you'd never seen before. She wore a headscarf that covered her hair and a pair of sunglasses that partially concealed her identity and, hell, if you didn't know any better you'd think that was your own mother. But something told you that she wasn't there to just say hello and, naively, you opened your door and let her in.

She sat at the passenger's seat, everything about her poised and elegant to the point that you were near in awe at her disposition and, quietly, she spoke, "thank you, for everything you've done for Damian." Talia al Ghul, she had to be, why else would she be here? You hadn't heard much about her, you'd barely even seen a few pictures of her from Damian's belongings, but here she was. "Of course," you'd answer, "I know it's not the same, but I know a little bit of how it feels to be alone." And to this she nodded, with a small smile, and with one glance out the car she left, moments later being replaced by Damian.

"So, where are we going today?" He'd ask. You'd give him a list of places, ask him to choose one, and you'd head there with him in tow. One of his favorites had always been the park.

Bonus: Bruce Wayne

I had to include bat-dad. Despite how I write him, he actually really is a good father, just not in the way you'd expect him to be. Y'all hold out for his arc, I promise it will be good!

When you were first dropped off at the manor, you didn't know what to expect from him. He was this huge imposing figure who was clad in black with a scowl on his face, you thought he hated you already. You were so young at the time, how could you have known any better?

Whenever he spoke to you, he'd crouch down and speak in a gentle voice. Whenever you'd ask him of something, even if it seemed like he didn't hear you, you'd see your answer within the next few days. He'd build you a whole other manor if you asked for it.

If only he wasn't so busy, juggling his role as CEO and Batman, he barely had enough time for the both of those, let alone time to raise a daughter, but he tried to show you that he was there in other ways. Fully funding your schooling was a given, but whenever you'd show interest in anything suddenly you'd see more of it in the manor.

When you'd expressed to Dick that you were interested in the piano, you found one in the house the next day. When you'd told Jason that you wanted to read more of a certain author, her entire collection was in the library. You once told Tim that you wanted to go to Metropolis U for college and, out of nowhere, there was an offer for a full ride. You and Damian used to go over to the Kent's to play a certain video game since neither of you had the time to bring it over and, would you look at that, the manor now has a game room.

A series of misunderstandings is what plagued this relationship. One from a father who barely felt the love of a parent and the other from a daughter who vyed for it. You both found your own way of communicating with each other, and it wasn't until the very end where it got strained.

But could you blame him?

You called him a monster.

You didn't even let him explain himself.

But, truthfully, even if you did...

He wasn't sure if you'd understand it.

Hell, he didn't even understand it himself.

All he felt was the heartbreak of realizing he made a mistake that couldn't be undone.

[bihansthot]

Title: Relax

Rating: Explicit (filth, pure unadulterated filth) Adults only, 18+

Pairing: Bi-Han x f!reader

Summary: After a long day of work you try and alleviate the Grandmaster’s stress.

Author’s Notes: finally I’m able to write something good! Y’all wanted a Bi-Han x f!reader and that’s what y’all got! I felt accomplished after finishing this one so as always likes, comments and reblogs are highly, highly appreciated or gush in my inbox or dms that’s great too! Basically please feed my ego, she’s starving.

You bite your lip and hold back a whimper as you grind your ass salaciously against the cryomancer’s impressive erection. It’s not often Bi-Han lets you be on top but the Grandmaster had had a stressful day of running the Lin Kuei and was in the mood to be a little spoiled.

*****

“Let me take care of you Bi-Han, you look exhausted,” you rub Bi-Han’s impressively well-muscled shoulders in an attempt to try and get his tense body to relax.

He heaves a heavy sigh, one of sheer stress and fatigue as one of his cold hands lays on top of yours, “I, I guess I could be persuaded to take it easy tonight.”

“Oh, taking it easy was not what I had in mind, I just figured you could use a break Polar Bear,” you smile at him suggestively and lead him away from his study back to the main bedroom of the Grandmaster’s chambers.

“Hm, is that so?” The cryomancer chuckles deeply, the sound reverberating in the stone room, the sound shooting straight to your core, filling it with a familiar warmth reserved only for your icy lover.

You lead Bi-Han to the bed you share with the cryomancer and knock him playfully back onto the plush, fur-covered bed. You climb on top of him, straddling his narrow hips and rubbing a hand against his clothed manhood, licking your lips as you feel the outline of his cock through the linen fabric. “Well that’s unusual,” you muse quietly as your fingers trace the edges of his cockhead teasingly.

Bi-Han’s eyes flutter closed and he exhales deeply, “what’s unusual qīn?” The cryomancer lifts his hips slightly trying to get more comfortable on the large bed.

“You’re soft,” you whisper almost as if you were in disbelief as you run your index finger along the underside of his still impressive shaft.

“I’m not hard 24/7 qīn, paperwork doesn’t exactly thrill me,” he chuckles as he runs a hand through your hair casually tucking a strand behind your ear before his grip tightens. “Besides, I think you might have an idea on how to remedy this slight problem,” he gives you a smirk as he forces your head down slightly.

“Oh, I know what’s on your mind, but I have something different planned,” you state before untangling yourself from the cryomancer’s grasp and flopping next to him. “Roll over,” you demand, earning a raised eyebrow for your actions.

Reluctantly Bi-Han obeys and rolls onto his stomach, “ok, now what?” He questions and you can hear the tired annoyance in his deep voice.

“Take off your uniform,” you instruct and straddle him once again waiting for the cryomancer to disrobe.

He grunts in annoyance, “I can’t with you on me, I can’t undo the belt like this, or my gauntlets, or my tabard, or anything really.”

You grumble and roll your eyes as you once again flop dramatically next to the Grandmaster, “ok, ok, why do you wear so many layers in the first place? It’s not like you get cold.”

He shrugs and stands up to begin disrobing, “tradition I suppose? Familiarity? It’s how I was raised to dress, besides the armbands look cool and you know it.”

Your face falls at another one of the Grandmaster’s horrible ice puns, “Bi-Han, no, just no, stop, please, you promised not while we’re being intimate.” You bite your lip before you can chastise him further as his belt and tabard are casually discarded and you're staring at him in his skintight black undershirt, the ebony fabric hugging every curve and bulge of Bi-Han’s beautifully muscled back. You can’t help but sigh contently and think how lucky you were that the cryomancer came into your life.

He tugs at the tight, stubborn shirt until it’s finally off, and he shakes his head as the shirt had pulled his hair loose too. His shoulder-length ebony locks fall messily around the cryomancer’s handsome face as he looks over his shoulders at you, giving you a predatory look.

“Back on the bed Bi-Han,” you order giving him a stern yet playful look as you pat the fluffy furs next to you.

“Tch,” the cryomancer replies before dramatically flinging himself face down on the bed and grunting in the process.

You once again climb astride the well-muscled cryomancer, you move his hair to the side and press a soft, loving kiss to the nape of his strong neck before moving your hands to glide over his tense shoulders. You frown at how hard his shoulders feel under your touch as you start to rub them, you don’t have particularly strong hands, so you don’t know how much relief you can actually bring to the cryomancer, but you know the gesture is appreciated. You hum softly as you work his flesh harder trying to alleviate the built-up stress and tension that came with being Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. He groans deeply as you hit a particularly nasty knot and the vibration of Bi-Han’s contented sigh makes your stomach do little flip flops as his enjoyment has you soaking your panties with desire. It becomes harder and harder to concentrate on the cryomancer but you try not to think about your own desires as your hands glide over his well-defined shoulder blades working your way lower to his lower back. No sooner had you started massaging his lower back Bi-Han let out a noise that caused molten lava to nearly boil over in your already tensed stomach, a soft sound halfway between a moan and a plea and you’re beside yourself with desire hearing him so vulnerable, so needy. “Oh Bi-Han,” you moan softly and can’t help but slowly grind yourself against his perfectly chiseled thighs.

“That feels so good,” he rumbles against the blankets as he buries his face deeper into the sheets to quiet another embarrassing sound, not really aware of the effect he was having on you.

He stretches his arms over his head and you gasp audibly at the way his muscles flex under his movements. You’re struggling between your desire to keep rubbing his beautiful body and jumping him that second, you shake your head rapidly trying to keep your desires at bay as you work your fingers deeper into his cold flesh. You whimper softly and rock your hips back and forth as your hands knead his muscular flesh, “I… I can’t do this anymore Polar Bear, you’re driving me crazy.” You tug his pants down and help flip him over and gasp in awe at the sight of his dripping erection laying against his rock-hard abs. You bite your lip and hold back a whimper as you grind your ass salaciously against the cryomancer’s impressive erection. It’s not often Bi-Han lets you be on top but the Grandmaster had had a stressful day of running the Lin Kuei and was in the mood to be a little spoiled.

He sucks in a breath before slowly licking his lips, “you’re far too clothed qīn,” he starts pawing at your top impatiently.

You don’t make him wait as you throw your top on the floor to join his discarded clothes, you struggle with the clasp of your bra for a moment before you feel his icy hands on your back making quick work of the closure. Your breast bounces free as they’re quickly encased in his cold hands rubbing and squeezing them as he breathes a content little sigh and you laugh softly because no matter how many times Bi-Han played with your breasts he always acted like it was the greatest thing in the world. You let him continue to assume himself with your tits as you peel yourself out of your pants and rub your ass against his cock again as if to remind him there was more to this than just playing with your breasts.

Bi-Han had other plans it seemed though and you gasp as his icy mouth latches itself to your nipple and his tongue deftly swirls around the hardening nub as your hands tangle in his soft strands of hair. His hands move to your hips and he lifts you up to guide his cock to your entrance as he lowers you slowly, letting you adjust to his girth and cold. He nips lightly at your nipple as he teases your dripping cunt with just the tip of his impressive length, holding you in place while you wriggle and whine in his clutches.

“Bi-Han please,” you hiss insistently trying to force your hips to join his, placing your hands on his bulging pecs.

He just hums against your breast as if contemplating your request, he bucks his hips up teasingly fucking you with just the tip. Obviously unaware you were the one who was supposed to be in charge of this little tryst. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t acknowledge your whines or pleas as he licks and sucks his way to your other breast.

You squeal from the cold as your tit is enveloped in his cold mouth, “Bi-Han! Stop teasing and let me fuck you!” You cry out exasperated, your want dripping down the length of Bi-Han’s huge cold cock. He smiles wickedly around your breast, his ice-blue eyes glinting in the candle-lit chambers as he loosens his grip on your hips and lets gravity take over. You cry out as your suddenly full to the brim of the cryomancer’s thick cold cock, you pant and whine as you feel too full as his cock rearranges your insides. “You… you asshole,” you pant and moan as he laughs and the vibrations radiate through your body, you rapidly lick your lips as you steady yourself atop the cryomancer. You take a deep breath to steady yourself and slowly lift your hips as you tentatively start to ride the cryomancer, you flex your thighs as pleasure sings through your body. You keen softly as Bi-Han’s huge cock fills your tight pussy, you lean back so you’re on the heels of your feet as you start to bounce rhythmically on the cryomancer’s cock. “It’s so big,” you whine and Bi-Han is unsure if that’s a compliment or a complaint.

He lets your breast free with a loud pop as he lays back and lets out a pleasured groan, “you’re doing such a good job taking my cock qīn, you look so pretty up there bouncing up and down on my cock. I know it’s a lot, but you’re my good girl, I know you can do it.” He praises encouragingly, eyes fluttering shut as he leans his head back.

You moan loudly at his words not caring for once if the other Lin Kuei can hear you or not, you lean forward and brush his disheveled hair out of his face as you continue to bob and grind on his cock. Your hands grope and scratch at his pecs as you drive his cock deeper and deeper inside your slick cavern, pleasure curls tighter in your stomach as you continue to fuck the cryomancer. Your cries rise in octaves as you find that sweet spot and hurriedly repeat the movement, relishing in the feeling of the cryomancer’s cock brushing against that spot that made you see stars. Your thighs ache and tremble with exertion as you continue to ride him, you pant with pleasure and exhaustion unsure you’ll be able to keep this up much longer.

“Un, good girl, good girl,” Bi-Han groans as he begins to move his hips in time with yours, driving his cock deeper with each thrust. His cold hands find your hips again and grip them tightly as he helps alleviate some of your strain with the support of his strong arms.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you whimper and whine as you keep rocking against his thick cock, trembling in his grasp as you feel your orgasm looming. You breathe heavily, the condensed air coming out in thick puffs due to the cryomancer’s close proximity, “Bi-Han, I’m going to, oh fuck I’m gonna…” you trail off as your head begins to loll to the side. You pant uncontrollably as pleasure jolts through your body like lightning surging through your body as the tight coil in your belly snaps, you practically shriek his name as you bury him as deeply inside yourself as you can. Your tongue falls out of your mouth as your eyes roll into your skull as you tremble atop the cryomancer trying your best to ride your orgasm as you’re consumed with pleasure. You jerk and thrash wildly as your want gushes out around his slick cock dampening his thick, black nest of curls, you can feel every little twitch and pulse of his cock in your blissed-out state and it isn’t enough. “Please, Bi-Han, please Grandmaster, I want to cum again, your cock feels so good, but I can’t move anymore,” you whine and plead with your lover, tears of desperation welling up in your eyes as your so deliciously full of the cryomancer’s perfect cock.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Bi-Han reassures you before effortlessly flipping your position so he’s the dominant one. He licks his lips at the sight in front of him as you’re laid bare in front of his icy gaze, “I’ll make you cum so hard you won’t remember your own name.” He rubs your clit as he presses his cock back inside the tight confines of your hot, wet pussy and groans, balls tightening close to his body.

Your body jerks at the sensation and you cry out, “oh please, please,” you continue to beg mindlessly engrossed entirely in the pleasurable sensation. Your back arches as his cold fingers rub tight circles around your clit and his cock continues to onslaught your g-spot, he was so good at this, almost too good, he knew exactly just how to play your body as if it were a fine instrument. You pant his name, a broken litany falling from your parted lips as he continued to thrust into you hard and fast, you could tell the cryomancer was chasing his own orgasm now. Bi-Han’s thrusts became shorter, more erratic, his breath heavy and labored as he continued to plow into you with the vigor of a man who was not half asleep at his desk moments earlier. The bed creaks and groans in protest as you hear the all too familiar sound of slapping flesh on flesh and wet squelching sounds that often accompanies lovemaking. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly as you feel the first waves of pleasure descending upon you, “Bi-Han,” you cry and bite your lip trying to keep your cries under control, unsure you could handle Tomas’ uncomfortable glances again. You can no longer keep your cries in though as you let out a loud shout as pleasure floods your body and you’re once again left senseless. Stars burst in front of your tightly closed eyes as your stomach clenches almost in protest at the pleasurable onslaught wrought by Bi-Han’s actions.

His lips are soon on your neck before his sharp teeth sink into the soft flesh of your neck easily tearing the delicate flesh as he muffles his cry of satisfaction. His groan turns even more pleasured as the crimson liquid oozes ever so slightly into his mouth, he’s quick to release his bite and lap at the angry crescent mark apologetically.

Your world is in turmoil as you continue to writhe beneath the cryomancer, the pleasure seemingly endless as you feel his release painting your insides a snowy white. You pull his hair subconsciously as you ride out the last bits of pleasure you can, you whine his name pitifully as you pull him in for a sloppy, blood-stained kiss, loving the coppery taste of your blood staining the cryomancer’s cold lips. Your tongues lazily battle for dominance before the cryomancer collapses on top of you and you’re buried under 240-some-odd pounds of solid, freezing-cold muscle. “Polar Bear,” you whine uncomfortably shoving at the unmovable mountain.

“Ugh,” Bi-Han mumbles as he rolls off you, “fuck me.” He breathes softly before pulling you close to his chest.

“I just did,” you chastise him shooting him a look. You shiver and yawn sleepily before pulling one of the thick fur blankets over your naked body doing what you could to preserve your body heat as you curled up to your veritable ice cube.

“Yeah and you did a lovely job, I’m very proud of you,” he yawns loudly and pats your head before stroking it lovingly, his now brown eyes closing contentedly.

“You really should start letting your brothers do some of the work Bi-Han, yes you’re Grandmaster, but you don’t have to do everything alone,” you sigh softly curling up against him. You’re met with light snoring for a response and you sigh and shake your head softly before closing your eyes, trying to ignore the dull ache in between your thighs as you drift off into a pleasant slumber next to the one you loved most.

[sublimetragedychopshop]

There should be some moments in fanfic where the reader seems exactly like a real person. For example: (btw there is hypnosis at the end so watch out for that TW)

Yandere sets up cameras and mics in readers home, thinking it’s super romantic that they get to watch their darling 24/7 until shenanigans ensue.

Darling: on the phone with their parent, “yeah… okay I already took out the trash. Anything else?”

Parent: “tell (siblings name) to have their damn report card ready when I get back.”

Darling: “okay, can I say damn tho?”

Parent: “sure, whatever.”

Darling: “thx mom/dad! Bye!” Reader ends the call. “(Sibling name)!! Mom/dad said GET YO MF REPORT CARD READY BITCH!”

Yan: 😀

OR

Yan was busy spending the whole night watching you on their monitor. A small beeping alerting them of movement in your house. With tired and loving eyes they moved the mouse to click on the screen of your room,

The door opening quickly as your figure shimmies out of the room. Arms stretched in front, holding your beloved pet, “Bugs”. Taking wide, almost comedic steps, frantically scanning every inch of the dark hall till you reached the bathroom. Switching on the voice recording device yan heard your pet plead to be let go of.

‘Why were you in the bathroom with your pet??’ Is what they wondered until your beautiful sleepy voice answered their question.

You: “I know you were sleeping Bugs. I DONT care, I’m NOT gonna get caught lackin by Freddy Fazbear.”

The yan just face palmed and waited till you went back to your room, making sure “Freddy fazbear” isn’t gonna materialize out of the dark like you think.

OR

Tis’ the day of grades at school. For some reason you were the one tasked with handing out report card to the students, bad news is you didn’t know anyone there. So with some (ALOT) of help from other students you finally got to the last one, (yanderes name). Not knowing who tf this was you ended up asking around, which got the weirdest reactions out of people.

“WHATT!? You don’t KNOW who (yanderes name) IS?? BITCH have you been living under a ROCK!?”

“(Yanderes name) is THE most gorgeous being EVER! It’s a SIN to not know who they ARE”

“One time (yanderes name) wore a cross knecklace and I went out and bought the same one so we MATCHED-“ “—bitch ain’t u Jewish??”

“They were rumored to have Royal blood and I know it’s 100% true because DO YOU NOT SEE THE WAY THEY ARE PERFECT!?!?”

Everyone gossiped and gushed. While you were tired of goin on a hump for this asshole. Someone’s presence loomed behind you as the person in front kept on ranting, “yeah- I’m just tryna hand them their grades or sum- i don’t even—“ “my grades?”

Swiftly you turned around to see said “yan’s name” and look them up and down; very obviously. Brows furrowed as you looked at the paper then back at them, “you (yan’s name)?” They nodded, by now the person behind was squealing.

Quickly you shoved the paper in their chest, “sorry, you failed. Bye.” You waved and dipped. Not catching the way your audience gasped at your audacity.

The paper actually revealed a perfect 100 but you just like lying for fun.

(This is me trying to be funny. Laugh.)

[aidaronan]

24 for the Steddie/Spotify wrapped prompt!

Welp. This one got away from me and is less a ficlet and more of just... a fic, but here we go! 24 - Scary Kids Scaring Kids - Watch Me Bleed

Lucky Number 42

Tags & Warnings: Blood, Time Loop, MCD but it’s a time loop so…, maybe it's supernatural or maybe it's maybelline It’s March 27th for the 41st time, and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sickly colors of the Other Sky. He won’t forget the blood either, the way it stains Eddie’s shirt and mats up his pretty hair. The way it gushes through Steve’s fingers as he tries to hold it all in yet again, as though if he just squeezes tight enough, it’ll finally—finally—work this time around.

“Guess we’ll try again, huh?” Eddie smiles, red pooling in the cracks between his teeth. “Fuck, Stevie, why’s it always so cold?” Nearby, Dustin sobs uncontrollably. Steve won’t forget that sound either. It’s seared into his brain, all of it. The same day over and over and over again, both of them stuck in it together. Changing everything, changing nothing.

“What is it you told me, Eds? 42 is the answer, right?” Steve squeezes his hand tight, his heart so full of love and yearning and clogged-up grief that he can feel it all spilling painfully into his chest. “That’s gonna be it for us. Lucky number 42.”

But whether he heard him or not, Steve doesn’t know. Eddie’s gone again, his eyes empty, his hand limp. Steve sinks into the dirt and hugs his knees, letting his forehead fall against his folded arms.

He has a mental tally running, everything that’s worked, everything that hasn’t.

There’s really only one direction left, the one direction Eddie wouldn’t entertain when Steve suggested it 28 days ago, 24 days ago, 15 days ago, 7... The more they fell for each other, the more vehement Eddie got about how that particular avenue was off limits, ‘un-fucking-entertainable, actually.’

It’s the only way though, has to be. There isn’t any other way left.

Taking a few deep breaths, Steve raises his head and crawls for Dustin, still crying, completely unaware of how many times they’ve been here before.

“I love you, Dustin. I love you and I’m sorry your childhood got absolutely shit on, and I hope you know you deserve better than all this.” Steve will say it again on the next loop, too, when it’ll actually (hopefully) count. But he needs to say it now. For himself.

“This can’t be happening,” is Dustin’s choked-out reply.

Steve wants to say that it’s okay, that he’ll fix it. But he and Eddie have also talked about how maybe all of it’s some kind of personal hell built just for them. So maybe there is no fixing it.

All Steve knows is he can’t watch Eddie die again, and he can’t watch anyone else die in Eddie’s place.

So…

So.

“I know.” Steve holds onto Dustin’s arm, waiting for the girls to make their way back to them so they can get out together, so Steve can shower and fall into bed and do what needs to be done. “I know,” he says again. And he does know. Fuck, he knows 41 times over.

It’s exactly three hours and twenty-seven minutes later—it always is, give or take five minutes—when Steve finally lays his head on his pillow., curled protectively around Robin’s back. It’s another half hour or so before she cries herself to sleep.

Then countless unquantified minutes before Steve manages to drop off. On the edge of consciousness, he dreams a voice quietly speaking the number, “two.”

#

When Eddie asks the plan for the day, Steve lies. They sneak into the woods near the clearing and they have each other wholly, primally, sex forged from bonding in a way that only they could ever understand. And then they plan.

And Steve lies.

He suggests they rehash Day 13 with Day 42’s knowledge, plus Day 17’s solution for saving Max. He talks Eddie through the hang-ups, through the objections, feeling a sickening mix of resignation and guilt with every inch of ground he gains in convincing him.

In the end, Eddie nods. “Let’s do this then. Lucky number 42.”

“The answer to the universe, life, and, uh, all the other stuff.”

Eddie huffs a small laugh and looks at Steve fondly, cupping his cheek. “How many roads must a man walk down indeed.”

When they kiss for luck, Steve focuses on every single millisecond, on the way Eddie’s lips feel, on the hands on him—small of his back, back of his neck—and on the feeling of Eddie’s hair sliding hairspray-rough through his fingers. Every little breathy sound, every note of birds calling, bugs flitting.

Life.

It may not have been everything Steve wanted, but he got to have this. For one fleeting moment, he got to fall in love and to be part of a small family of misfits. Some people never got that lucky.

“I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you too.”

It feels like a blink before they’re outside of the trailer, Dustin locked in the bathroom in Right-side-up Hawkins. It’s just them and their makeshift armor—spear and nail bat against the swarm.  

Eddie looks at him and nods.

Steve looks back and chokes down a sob, summoning all the bravery he possesses. “Eddie. I’m sorry.”

“Wh—”

This is the easy part, years of sports and fighting all culminating in this moment. At full speed, Steve plows into Eddie, tackling him to the ground, covering his body with his own.

They’re already biting by the time Eddie reacts, fighting like hell, pushing with all the strength of someone who spent years hauling around band equipment and theater props. Eddie’s strength is mostly in his thighs though, a force he uses to drive the rest of him. If Steve keeps him on the ground long enough…

“You motherfucker. You motherfucking fuck! You fucking son of a goddamned…” A feral scream, a shove that Steve counters by squeezing Eddie’s arms tight against him. Eddie growls, broken and desperate, “Stevie, please.”

They’re both fighting hard and with all the love in their bones. Apologizing over and over, Steve forces his fingers deep into the dirt, gripping the roots of rotten hell-vines hard even while the bats chew, even while he cracks his fingernails, and his hands bleed along with his body.

He’s halfway dead by the time the bats drop, and he knows it.

Eddie pushes him off and gets onto his knees and Steve can’t help but smile because Eddie is gloriously and beautifully okay. There’s a bite on his arm along with a few scratches from their tussle, but that’s it. He’ll make it this time. He’ll make it.

“I did it,” Steve says, falling onto his back despite the fact that it’s nothing but open wounds. “I did it. You’re alive and no one else is gonna…”

Eddie replies with a broken scream, with hands that reach for the bloodied hole on the side of Steve’s neck, that try to turn him over to see where else they need to press.

“Don’t.” Steve grabs weakly at his wrists. “Please, just… Let me. See if it works.”

“Fuck you, Steve.” Eddie blinks out several tears. “Fuck you. I said not this. Not this.”

“It’s the one thing we haven’t tried, Eddie. Maybe this is how it was always supposed to go, you know. Why we couldn’t break—” Steve coughs wetly. “God, it really is cold, huh?”

“Just… Just stay, okay, Stevie. Be stronger than me. Hold on, and that’s how we’ll break it, yeah? With you living.”

In the distance, Steve can hear Dustin finally bursting out of the trailer, crying his name.

He blinks up at Eddie’s brown eyes and smiles at the warmth of his hands on him.

Somewhere else, he can hear voices, unfamiliar and new.

“Oh,” Steve says, the edges of his vision going black, swallowing up Eddie’s face. “So there really is something else after all.”

#

Death, it seems, is darkness. Not terrifying but restful. Not cold, not warm either.

Just floating, quiet and peaceful.

“Two.”

A voice flows out of the void, a voice Steve thinks he may have dreamed once or even more than once. It’s quickly followed by more, all speaking rapidly from everywhere and nowhere.

“Four in cold blood. Undoing.”

“Two from love’s sacrifice. Healing.”

“And so it is. See how it all knits back into one.”  

“Then it is done. Send him back.”

Steve tries to open his mouth. “Where—?”

He never finishes the question.

#

Steve blinks awake to the rhythmic sounds of a machine beeping.

He slowly turns his head to find Robin curled up in a chair next to him, snoring softly with a book steepled open in her lap.

“Rob?”

She startles awake and locks eyes on him before exclaiming with a smile that goes instantly tearful, “Holy shit. Steve.”

From a lumpy bag by her feet, she unearths a walkie-talkie, nearly flinging it at him in her haste to use it. Her hands are shaking when she brings it to her face.

“Hey, uh, everyone. We’re… We’re having a good hair day.”

There’s a chorus of voices, all of them expressing some kind of joy and relief, all of them saying they’ll be there as soon as they can.

“Already in the van. Munson over and out.”

He’s there within five minutes, hair in a messy bun that implies he might have genuinely thrown it up while steering with his knees.

Standing in the doorway, he pauses, eyes on Steve. Steve feels like his entire stomach might drop out under the weight of that gaze. If he’d had any reason to wonder if Eddie remembered all the loops, he’d have no doubt now.

“Hey Rob, can I have a minute with Stevie boy here before the entire Scooby Gang shows up?”

“Uh…” Robin looks back and forth between them, furrowing her brow at Steve before getting up. “Yeah, sure.”

She softly closes the door on the way out, and just like that they’re alone.

“I should kill you all over again for what you pulled, you know?” Eddie says, sitting down and reaching for Steve’s hand.

“You should.”

“But then again, here we are.”

“Here we are. How long was I…?”

“Dead? Or here? Because you did die. I checked your pulse, listened for a breath, fucking everything. And then the girls showed up and out of the blue, you twitched a fucking finger, so Nance and I… You’ve been in the hospital for a week.”

“I had a dream. Maybe. Or maybe it wasn’t a dream at all. I don’t know.” Steve thinks about it again, the infinite peace of the void. “There were, uh, voices, and I think they were saying you and I both had to be willing to die for each other. Like specifically two people in love. To undo Vecna. Are the gates…?”

“Closed, but that could be because Nance and Robin flambéed him alive.”

“Yeah.”

“More things in heaven and Earth though, Stevie. We did just repeat March 27 for a month and a half. Maybe someone was looking out for us. Or they just really fucking hate Vecna. There are many options for motive here.”

Steve rubs at Eddie’s knuckles with his thumb. He hadn’t even taken the time to put his rings on. “So many.”

“It’s over though,” Eddie says. “All of it. The suits cleared my name in five minutes and Hopper ripped the local PD a new asshole. Only question now is…” Eddie gives the spot where they’re holding hands a pointed look. “Now what?”

Steve thinks for a second, mouth twitching at every stolen happy moment in those 42 days of hell. Every smile, every kiss, every sneaky sweaty fuck. Every little conversation that made him laugh, made him feel, made him fall. “Do you remember Day 19 when I asked where you’d go if you ever left Hawkins?”

“I do. By then we’d already given each other hand jobs so I had exactly zero qualms about saying I’d go to San Francisco where I could be gay as hell and also make the heaviest of metal.”

“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs. “I’m assuming I have to stay in this hospital for a little longer and probably sign, like, another pile of papers that say I won’t tell anyone the government broke Hawkins because they were experimenting on little kids. But after that, why not?”

“Why not? Just like that? ‘Eddie, let’s move in together and also let’s do that in California.’ That easy, huh?”

“We just lived through the end of the world 42 times, Eds. Why the hell can’t it be?”

Eddie laughs quietly and looks down at his lap, shaking his head, a few tendrils falling out of the bun as he does.

Outside of the room, Steve hears a series of sneakers squeaking on linoleum. The door bursts open and Eddie quietly pulls his hand away. But he’s smiling ear to ear when he leans back to let a gaggle of teens throw themselves semi-gently onto Steve for half-hugs.

“Well okay then, Stevie,” Eddie says over the sound of six other people talking at once. “If that’s what you want.”

[world0fmadness]

SUPERSOAKER

bård “ faust ” eithun x reader

♡ nsfw headcanons for faust and his squirting kink!

୨୧ i know that wand and rabbit vibrators didn’t exist in the early 90’s but just go with it for the sake for fantasy hehe <3

♡ related hc available here and here | view my metal masterlist here

reading music recommendations: fyrd up by death grips - power of satan by hellhammer

* 18 + content, please do not read if you’re a minor *

♡ oh boy, faust absolutely loves to make you squirt…

୨୧ the first time you ever squirted with him was after he’d found your vibrator in the drawer of your bedside table!

♡ he’d been in his boxers looking for a condom but certainly wasn’t disappointed by finding the vibrator instead, picking it up out of the drawer and turning to you with a small smirk on his face and the held vibrator in his hand

“ what is this? am i not enough for you, pretty girl? ” ( you simply roll your eyes and laugh, of course he’s enough for you but i mean… he’s not there 24 / 7 and you hadn’t been dating him forever )

୨୧ once you explain to him that you’ve had the vibrator since before you guys got together and rarely use it anymore, you tell him to put it back and just fuck you already

♡ but oh no, faust is absolutely not getting over this discovery just like that!

“ what? no way! can i use it on you? i just wanna see… ” ( he’s looking at it in his hands, observing it as if it’s some kind of alien artefact! yeah, he’s too curious now )

୨୧ you let out a sigh but agree and spread your legs a little more on the bed, surely he’d get over the novelty of it pretty quickly and wouldn’t even make you cum with it, right? he’d probably get bored of not having his already rock hard cock inside of you

♡ this absolute psycho puts it onto the highest setting before pushing it against you cunt, causing you to let out a yell of “ jesus christ, faust! what the fuck is wrong with you? ” as he quickly pulls it back with a giggle and apologises

୨୧ you tell him if he’s gonna use it on you, he’s gotta use it right and ease into it, he cannot be acting like a kid on christmas testing out their new toy

♡ so he does, he sits just in front of you, his eyes stuck on your cunt as he presses the vibrator against you with it being at the lowest setting this time

୨୧ he’s absolutely mesmerised by your soft moans and the way your legs slightly jut as he presses it against you harder, you mumble out an a-okay for him to turn it up and he wastes no time

♡ by the time three minutes pass, the vibrator is turned up to the highest setting again and faust is leaned over you, shoving his tongue into your mouth as you moan and your hands tangle in his hair

୨୧ he’s having to physically hold your legs open now, gripping your thigh to the side with one of his hands as the other keeps the vibrator against you, gently running it up and down your cunt as you moan into his mouth

♡ as your moaning gets more intense and you throw your head back, he pulls his face away from yours and turns his attention to your cunt as he realises you’re about to cum

୨୧ oh yeah, you’re cumming, just in a way he hasn’t seen before…

♡ the second your moans turn into damn near screaming, he realises what’s happening… you’re fucking squirting… his eyes widen and he can’t look away from the liquid splashing out of you, your legs clamp together due to the overstimulation as he still has the vibrator pressed against you but he doesn’t budge which only causes more liquid to continue gushing out of you as you writhe and push against his hand

୨୧ eventually you have to yell his name for him to finally break out of his trance and he pulls the vibrator away from your cunt, much to your relief because you really don’t think there was anything left in you and it was just starting to hurt

♡ he’s quiet for a minute as the room is filled with your pants as you try to control your breathing… when you lift your head from the pillow and look at him, he’s still staring at your cunt and the bedsheets under you which are now beyond soaked with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth

୨୧ you call his name again, asking if he’s okay… when he finally looks up to you, he mumbles a response with a tone to his voice that you can’t quite pinpoint

“ hm? yeah… i’m okay… are you? what the fuck… why didn’t you tell me you could do that? fuck… that was really fucking hot, you soaked the sheets, pretty girl ” ( by the time he finishes his sentence he has a slightly evil look in his eyes and a smirk on his face, oh he’s not getting over this anytime soon… )

♡ after that day, he basically refuses to finish fucking you without making you squirt at least once!

୨୧ he’ll either hold the vibrator to your cunt and finger you whilst he’s painfully hard in his boxers or he’ll hold the vibrator to your cunt as he fucks into you, your legs thrown over his shoulders so you have no chance of clamping them shut

♡ the first time you squirted around his cock, he swears nothing has ever topped that feeling for him… the feeling of your juices gushing out around his cock, nearly forcing him out and soaking his lower stomach and thighs

“ oh fuck! holy shit, feels s’good, pretty girl… can feel you gushing around me, fuck! ” ( he’s already super loud in bed but when you’re squirting around him? his loudness triples )

୨୧ he just can’t get over how loud you start moaning, the writhing to a point where he has to put a hand on your stomach and hold you down, the way your walls tighten and spasm around him

♡ you guys have to buy SO many new spare sheets because of how often he makes you squirt now…

୨୧ but it’s just one of those things that now he knows you can do it and he knows how good it feels, he won’t stop making you do it and your vibrator is his new best friend

♡ he never thought he’d be into squirting as much as he is but yeah, he’s obsessed…

[whumpsoda]

You're evil LMAO

Genevieve finding a ring in Nevan's stuff a while later and just thinking 'well damn'. Obviously a bit more distraught than that but yknow

WOHEO Masterlist

YES I AM >:)

cw: implied/referenced kidnapping

———————————————————————

A box.

A box with a ring, one that glimmered and glittered in sunlight, one coated with the sugary, honeydew warmth of his love. Sure, it was cheap and gaudy, but he bought it. He bought it for her, pouring his heart into a purchase he knew she would cherish no matter the look of it. A gift she would wear every day, 24/7, until the day she died. 

A gift he never got to give.

Genevieve slumped onto their- her- bed, one hand over the leather box and the other twirling the ring between nimble fingers. She studied it intensely, thinking and thinking and thinking.

When did he plan on doing it? Kneeling down in front of her, widening the box open and showing it off until she instantly gushed and burst into flowing tears, hollering yes, yes, yes! 

Obviously it was going to happen. Maybe it was soon, maybe it was a long way away. It didn’t really matter anymore, though, considering a missing man couldn’t propose. 

Not a dead man.

What would it have felt like to plan a wedding, she wondered. To buy a dress Nevan couldn’t see until the long awaited date, to buy and shop for decorations, shoes, get all done up and have her very own bachelorette party. 

What would it have felt like to walk down the aisle? Arms intertwined with Nevan’s father, the seats reserved for her own parents barren and devoid of them, their invitations never sent. 

How would it have felt to read her vows? To recite the ones she’d written for him all the way back in high school, just knowing such a day would eventually come? To see him grin, toothy and wide as he giggled, holding back his silly teases as tears pricked his deep, brown eyes?

She chuckled, sorrowful and strained. He’d hidden it in such an obvious place, too. Right behind her shoe rack. Hers! How she’d never found it before then was beyond her, and why he’d ever thought to put it there was as well. Maybe it was because he just knew she rarely wore more than one pair of sneakers, and would never notice it. 

Nevan just knew her.

He knew that as a kid she doodled little monsters in the margins of her papers when bored, he knew she only ever ate anchovies and bacon on her pizza, and he knew she still slept with a night light because she was still afraid of the dark. Among so much more, he knew her.

And he knew that she would say yes.

Would have said yes.

Genevieve gently slipped the jewelry over her ring finger, and it gleamed with little reflections of rainbows as it moved. Just right.

Just right.

But it couldn’t be just right, because he hadn’t given it to her. Because he wasn’t even there to laugh about how she’d found it and just propose anyways. He wasn’t there.

She stared at it, just before slipping it off once again. She wiped her eyes, rubbing the tears out of them before she would break. She could cry later. Amara needed her then. Placing the ring back to its intended box she smiled, lightly, content with herself.

She would wait. She would put it back where she discovered it, and when he came back he would propose and everything would be just as perfect as when he left. She could wait. She would wait, as long as she needed to till she found him. And then she would never let go of that ring unless it was pried from her cold, dead hands. Everything would be just fine. She could feel it.

Nevan was out there, and Genevieve would find him. 

No matter…

No matter who he was when she did.

———————————————————————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @mylifeisonthebookshelf

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[azlrse]

➳ bro's the type to.. (a kalim al-asim x gn!human reader dating headcanons)

cw: none, just extreme fluff

a/n: i'm partially free from my school works and guess who's daydreaming about her irl crush-

Bro's the type who has this puppy love crush upon meeting you. He was intrigued that someone who came from an unknown background/from another world and doesn't have such ability to do magic is what makes him curious for you.

Bro's the type that would get know you first before his feelings for you surfaced to the top. He wants to know everything about you (but not in a creepy way) and loves to give you small trinkets that reminds you of him.

Bro's the type that would spoil you so much before you became his significant other. Ranging from lots and lots of food cooked by Jamil to gifts that money can buy. Please accept those gifts, that would make Kalim's heart soar up above.

Bro's the type who realizes and accepts that his love for you isn't some platonic love but a kind of love that says 'i really really like you- no, I love you' kind of feeling. He wholeheartedly accepts that you are the reason why he goes to school earlier than usual, why he goes to Ramshackle Dorm first in order to fetch you for classes where he sometimes offers to study in the library just the two of you, and why his grades had increased since the second semester.

Bro's the type who would gush about you to his dormates and to Jamil about you. He would gush about you non stop as he paces back and forth while his beating heart is threatening to come out of his chest as he keeps on rambling about you.

Bro's the type to be the first to comfort you during you days of darkness. If you want to be alone for a while, he'll respect your decision but would happily indulge to your desire for a hug if you needed one.

Bro's the type that invites you to take a ride on his flying carpet and seeing the sparkling stars above. Kalim would melt like a stick of butter as you hold him for support and he'll gladly loop his arm around your waist.

Bro's the type who would carry you in bridal style if you scraped your knee or sprained an ankle. He doesn't take no for an answer as he carries you towards the infirmary and stays with you as you fell asleep and holds your hand to reassure himself that you are doing okay.

Bro's the type that would become extremely nervous as he gets ready to confess his love for you. Kalim is pacing back and forth (again) while carrying a small box of gold as his courting gift to you. When he finally speaks out that he really liked you, you can how his face is sweating and couldn't help but stare at his shakey hands as he hands you over his gift of courtship. You accepted his confession and you saw his mouth contorted into the most adorable grin you've ever seen as he spins you around in the air.

Bro's the type that gives you kisses 24/7 and is big on PDA. He wants everyone to know that you are Kalim's lover and treats you like some kind of royalty. He loves holding your hand with his while walking around the corridors of the school.

Bro's the type who makes a keychain locket that was hooked on his magic pen. When he's down or just misses you, he would open up the small latch of the locket and sees your adorable face.

Bro's the type who would fight for the relationship he established with you. Because the heir of the Asim family loves you so much and would do anything to keep you safe and loved.

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[artemisgrayy]

From One Hell to Another

[Link to full fic ^ 🔥]

✨ Masterlist ✨

Chapter 6 Sneak Peek WIP

Tags: Alastor x Reader, Alcohol, fluff, soft Alastor, Slow Burn, Tension, not proofread, WIP

A/n: This one is taking a bit longer cause it's longer than the other chapters but I PROMISE the wait will be worth it. Here's a taste 👀

I WOULD LOVE FEEDBACK ON THE TENSE..NESS? I'm getting in my head about characterization 😅

18+ - Minors DO NOT INTERACT with me or my content

“Care to have a drink with me?” the demon inquires, materializing a bottle of Rye in one hand. The sound of his claws clink against the glass, creating a delicate but unsettling rhythm.

His eyes fix you with a beguile stare. You've witnessed him point this look toward others -- many back down at the sight of it, terrified to provoke the demon.

It only entices you to push harder.

“Depends, have you poisoned it?” You quip, the corner of your mouth turning up.

Alastor’s eyes narrow into slits, his smile growing wider, “Heavens, no,” he chuckles, materializing two crystal tumblers in his other hand, “Not this time, anyway.”

He pours a couple fingers and extends the drink to you. One of his eyebrows cocks as you dramatically observe every angle of the glass. You bring the tumbler close to your face, feigning reluctance, but your mouth falls open when the crisp smell of oak and vanilla coat the inside of your nose.

“Holy shit, this actually smells amazing,” you gasp delightfully.

“I have to agree with you there. This was my drink of choice when I was alive,” he pauses, looking introspectively before continuing, “It was my mother’s favourite too.”

This was the first you’ve heard of his life before hell and your head tilts at the disclosure.

“Were you close with your mom?” you ask with your lips against the glass, taking in the aroma.

“Incredibly.” the demon nods, a hint of pain in his voice.

You stare out over the horizon, hesitant to pry further -- family is a touchy subject and you know that first hand. The first sip washes the taste of cherry over your tongue and moan breaks free from your throat.

“Wow,” you gush, holding up the glass to observe the amber liquid as you swash it around the tumbler, “If this is poisoned, at least I'll die happy.”

“The night is still young, darling,” Alastor purrs, glancing down at his middle and index claws as he taps them together, “you know, if you have a death wish," his eyes dart towards you, "I can think of far more productive use F̶͎͓̔̌̕o̴̭̓̇̂ȑ̷͈͂ ̸̩̤̯̋̕ỳ̶̙̓o̶̹͎͓͑̎̏u̴̢̇̆͒r̴̦̥͛̄ ̶̡͙̺̀̂ś̴͇̞͆ö̷̬̩́̔͠u̵̲̅ͅl̷͚͑̀."

“Still on that, eh?" The increased static in his voice doesn't phase you, "You really think you could handle me being around you 24/7?”

“Hm, I'd tolerate it.” his eyes slide back toward his hand as he straightens out his arm.

“You know I'd make it your personal hell, right? Like, to a point where you'd regret the moment you wrap your big, scary hand around mine."

Alastor answers by taking a sip from his glass, giving you that famous coaxing look of his over the rim.

“I hope you don't mind me blaring heavy EDM from my phone everyday.”

“Sounds like you haven't a penchent for pain,” his smile widens, “I can work with that.”

“Good, I'm a bit of a masochist.” you blurt out.

Heat soaks through your features as the last word leaves your mouth and you break eye contact to look down at the glass in your hand. You didn't even realize it was empty, and with all the excitement today, you completely forgot to eat.

"Interesting," he teases, picking up the scent of your embarrassment like a bloodhound. The bottle clinks against your glass as he pours you another round, "I can work with that too."

--

✨ Masterlist ✨