#i ramble in real life babes!!!!

[laylakeating]

And isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?

[drowningincaffiene]

me after drinking the Jitter Juice™: fuck why am i so jittery

[graveyard-lovesong]

Ugh why is being disabled so fucking stressful

[teamatsumu]

L&DS BOYS - LOVE LANGUAGES

content warnings: fem!reader, fluff, sfw headcanons

XAVIER - PHYSICAL TOUCH

Xavier knows he is smart, and witty enough. But when things get a little too real, he finds it hard to express himself.

And the feelings he has for you are the most genuine ones he has felt in his long, long life.

While he might not be someone who can wax poetic about his affection for you, he shows it in other ways, and physical touch in his favorite way to get his feelings across.

When you walk next to each other, he sticks close, arm brushing against yours. Occasionally, the back of his hand makes contact with your own. It's almost as if the tension builds and builds, until he finally connects your fingers, either intertwining your hands together or linking his pinkie with yours. No words leave his mouth. His touch says enough.

If the train is too crowded, he will pull you closer to him with a firm touch on the small of your back, making sure you don’t receive any unwanted bumps from strangers.

For a few weeks in your relationship, he developed a strange habit of pinching your cheeks and lightly pulling on them. You let him do it, knowing he would eventually move on and find some other part of you to focus on. Though the action did make your face heat up.

Another weird hyperfixation he has is nibbling at your fingertips absentmindedly. He plays with them often, but when he is distracted by a movie you two are watching, he will bite at them every so often. Sometimes, he is so focused on the screen that you doubt he even realizes what he is doing.

(He realizes. He just thinks every part of you deserves love. Don’t question it. It makes sense in his head.)

Cuddling with him is the perfect gift for your senses, stimulating you wonderfully.

Small nips on your skin, little lingering touches. He traces your skin with eager yet gentle hands, as if trying to memorize every curve and dip.

He buries his face in your neck and breathes in deep, and in that moment, bodies tangled with each other and the sheets, vulnerable and open, he will whisper, “I love you”.

It’s an affirmation more than a revelation, since his actions up until this point have all shown you that he really, truly does love you. So you whisper it back, trying to pour all your love into it, before slotting your lips together and using physical touch to convey your feelings right back.

RAFAYEL - WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

Rafayel is, in the simplest of terms, a yapper.

This man could talk for hours if you don’t stop him. About his art, about the meaning of life, about his experiences. He can express so much while also having an impeccable talent of being completely vague. Sometimes, you don’t even understand the things he says. And you’ve given up trying to decipher his every word.

But when Rafayel is talking about you, he makes himself abundantly clear. There’s no ambiguity about it; he loves you. And he will say it a million different times in a million different ways. Whether it be a bold declaration of how much his heart yearns for you, or endless teasing that is meant to rile you up and get a reaction out of you.

“I don’t think your talent lies in art, babe. It’s a good thing you’re a walking art piece yourself. No wonder I’m in love with you.”

“You’re leaving so soon? But I don’t think I’ve admired you enough for today. Don’t leave me!”

I’m impressed, Miss Bodyguard. You’re talented, and easy on the eyes. No wonder you captivated me from that very first day we met.”

Expect to wake up with a lot of voice notes on your phone. Minutes long. Sometimes rambling, sometimes actual ideas for new pieces that he wants to run by you. You better reply to all of them individually.

When you cuddle at night, you can talk for hours. No topic on earth is off limits with him. He will lay you down on a blanket on the beach, and as you watch the stars, he will tell you stories from olden times about star crossed lovers and tragic fairy tales. And he will turn to you, tell you how beautiful you are, how ardently he loves you, how he will never forget any moment he spends with you.

It’s almost like you can tell the exact moment he falls in love with you. Because he tells you. He never stops telling you. He voices his fears of you leaving him, he makes you promise you will never go away. He is clingy and he is whiny, and he is so endearing.

It’s hard to dismiss him when he is so loud about his love. And it’s hard to not fall for him just as he falls for you.

ZAYNE - ACTS OF SERVICE

This is an indisputable fact. Dr Zayne shows his love through acts of service.

He is intensely aware of your needs, and is miles ahead of you in determining what you require at any given moment.

It’s his way of showing you that he cares. He worries for you, and born from that worry is the urge to take care of you.

If you have had a long day, you will come home to a text from him saying he has ordered takeout and it will arrive at your house shortly, since he knows you are too exhausted to cook anything. It is always something different, but it is always food that he knows you enjoy. He will mix it with some healthy options too.

If you ever crash at his place, you will wake up to a tall glass of water and two aspirin on the side table, along with a note in his neat handwriting telling you that there is fresh cooked breakfast in the oven (he made it before he left for work).

Once you two are in a steady relationship, he keeps his house stocked with products you use. A spare shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, a bathrobe of your size, a hair brush, you name it.

When you mumble something about the hand cream in your purse that is nearly running out, you will find a brand new tube next time you open the purse, and there is no need to even ask. You know Zayne put it there.

He is intensely observant. Even after knowing him for so long, it catches you off guard. He knows which of your clothes need to be dry cleaned and which ones are good for the washing machine. He knows which scents you use. Which products are harsher on your skin. He knows that contacts irritate your eyes after long hours of wearing them, so he keeps a small bottle of eye drops in your side table for that very purpose.

He scolds you for neglecting yourself, and he won’t hold back the harsh tone if he thinks your behavior is particularly destructive. To him, the best way to show love is to make sure your beloved is living the best life they can.

It is the littlest things, the tiniest details. And it shocks you, even after so long.

[moriitis]

Hey! Happy holidays, moriitis!

This is an unusual curiosity, but... What do you think about Toby being a father?

I feel like he wouldn't like having a child, or maybe he would, I don't know... do you think he would be a good father? (Let's suppose that hypothetically you have a daughter)

Have a nice Christmas, I love you! 💗

Father!Toby Rogers HeadCanons. Fem!Reader.

FIRST, I wanna say how fucking weird it was reading this ask at 5 am because I shit you not, before I went to sleep THIS VERY THOUGHT crossed my mind and I told myself I was gonna write this today. GET OUT OF MY HEAD. No, on a real note, glad we are on the same wave length. I LOVE THIS and thank you for requesting it! Have the most happiest of holidays yourself! <3 AND NO I LOVE YOU.

Content/Warnings; abortion, mentions of miscarriages, blood, birth, children, babies.

If you had asked him what he did on a specific Wednesday two weeks ago, he'd have no idea. That was one of the downsides to being a proxy; the memory loss and foggy mind. But fuck, did he remember the morning you told him you were pregnant. His heart fell through his ass, his skin colour turning fifty shades paler than usual.

Admittedly, his first reaction was to laugh. He'd snort in your face and narrow his eyes suspiciously toward you.

"Weird fucking thing to say."

Would be one of the first things he would say. Because you pranked him so often that he simply didn't believe you and it was such a weird fucking thing to say? What a weird prank?

But when you didn't laugh, his lips pursed nervously and he shifted from one foot to the other. The silence was louder than anything as you both stared at each other. The seriousness on your face, this was going too far.

"You're on birth control... right?"

And before he knew it, you were tearing up and right there and then he wanted a hole to swallow him up and eat him. This was bad, no, worse than bad; this was really fucking serious.

Slender would fucking kill him, he'd kill him first and then kill you. This wasn't supposed to happen, shit, he shouldn't have been fucking with you in the first place and now you were fucking pregnant?!

He wanted to panic, he wanted to dart out the door and leave forever but he was tied to Slender. Not just as a proxy, but a slave; a mere worker.

It was the look on your face too, he couldn't leave you? What kind of man were he? Not that he had a particularly good role model for what being a man was like

God forbid he turned into that man.

"Okay."

He would start -

"Okay, okay, ooookay."

He was reassuring himself more than he were reassuring you and his hands reached out to grip firmly on your shoulders. This didn't have to happen, he could.. well, you could fall down some stairs or better yet, drink some alcohol? That'll get rid of a baby, right?

Those thoughts, those dirty, putrid thoughts. What was he thinking? He was disgusted in himself but he couldn't help it, he was panicking.

He couldn't be a father, he was not made to be a father. What if he turned into him? What if he were to.. god forbid it, lay his hands on the babe? He was a dangerous individual, why should the softness of a baby stop him?

Perhaps it was because it were.. his baby. A life growing inside of... you.

"I can't do it."

He admitted.

"I am not fit to be- I CANNOT be- Our life- What we do- No, no, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I love you but-"

He was rambling. He was afraid, he couldn't bare to look at you because what if he were to suddenly lay a hand on you?

Sitting down with Toby and talking to him was the best option. To clear your minds, to form a plan - to figure out what to do and whether you both wanted this baby.

Toby was honest, so brutally honest that frankly it made you burst into tears.

"It's not that I don't want it- it's that I-.. I can't."

His words hurt so much but he promised he'd be there to help you each step of the way. Fuck, he'd even get Jack in an attempt to try and help with the termination.

But word travelled fast and it sure travelled quick.

Slender's rage was not shouting or screaming; it was the eerie silence or disappointing faceless stare he would give you. It was the nausea that followed, the anxiety that riddled itself in your blood stream.

And just like that, Toby's whole life was gone. You had just.. simply disappeared. And it killed him, the unknowing of what happened to you. It killed him to think that he could've possibly killed you.

But you were not dead. Slender had come to an... agreement.

You were to stay a proxy but you were to terminate the child and with that, he sent you on the other side of the forest. In a cabin, alone and to deal with your emotions.

Jack had came to aid you with the termination.

But something inside of you told you that.. you wanted this child. That perhaps this child was a chance of hope, of normality. That maybe you could escape.

And you hated to bare such a burden on a child that was not yet born.

It took a lot of convincing from Jack, a lot of persuasion to keep the baby and to do regular visits to ensure it was growing healthy. You were to birth the baby alone, for Jack couldn't risk getting caught. But he taught you well, how to handle it and of course gave you lots of books.

It was risky, going against Slender. He would know something was up, especially since you had not come back as quickly as he had expected.

So Jack lied for you, he hated it but did it nevertheless. What was he going to lose?

He told Slender you were in a coma and that he needed to do regular checks to ensure you were alive.

Slender wouldn't know, fuck, Slender wasn't human - so the lie worked perfectly.

The pregnancy was rough. Unwelcoming. You vomited everything up, you were unable to gather firewood due to the fatigue - so on most nights you would be freezing alone.

A part of you didn't expect the baby to survive. That you would miscarriage.

But weeks slogged into months and you were bursting.

And you had to do this alone.

You didn't count how long you were in labour for, but it felt like for days.

So much blood, that something was wrong and you just knew it.

But you pushed through, with each book Jack had given you being an aid.

The baby was born during the night.

And she did not cry. Nor weep, nor whine.

Your heart dropped.

You were slumped on the cabin floor, blood pooling around your thighs and knees as you doubled over. There, on the towels beneath you, were the child. Pale, small.

If it weren't for the shock, you would've moved instantly. But you couldn't. All you could do was watch in disbelief, your head glazed in sweat.

But motherly instincts kicked in quick.

And you reached for the scissors, cutting the cord and making haste to save your daughters life.

Your daughter. A girl. You had no idea what the gender were but it were evident as you helplessly rubbed the babes back, hoping to clear some airways to hear that cry.

Relief washed over you, a cry that would've seen irritating for some; music to your ears.

You had a daughter - she was alive!

It took Jack a couple months until he passed by again, he was on his rounds locally and knew he needed to check up on you. A part of him expected to find you dead and half of him prepared himself to the smell of death as he itched closer toward the cabin. The smell of the rotting corpse either being you, the child or both.

But there was a new smell. A sweeter smell.

He wasn't sure why he was surprised when he discovered the cooing child in your arms but he were.

You had named her Lyla.

And you ached for Toby.

Jack couldn't vouch for the coma lie anymore and he knew that soon you were to be caught.

So, he did what he thought were best. He dragged Toby's sorry ass here. And it took a lot of convincing.

Toby succumbing to depression at the idea of losing you. Spending most days in bed, grieving.

So, when he walked into the cabin, he quite literally dropped to his knees, it was like everything inside him had been healed.

"You're alive-?!" Toby choked out. A part of him believed he were dreaming. His eyes scanned every fibre of your being, your hair, eyes, lips and.. the baby in your arms. His mouth hung agape and you couldn't help the stream of tears that came flooding down your cheeks. The brunette couldn't lie, he couldn't say that you looked well because you didn't. You looked.. so hungry, so weak and yet this beautiful child looked so healthy. "You- is that- am I?" All you could do was nod to his words as you approached him, Toby barely able to find the courage to look at the child in your arms. No, he had to make sure you were real first. His hand reached out, fingertips barely grazing over your cheekbones and there he smashed his lips against your own.

It took a lot of explaining and Toby was.. well, in shock for an hour or two as he tried to come to terms with it all. The idea that you did this.. alone. That you carried this child alone for months, that you gave birth alone. He should've been there, he would've been in a heartbeat!

But that voice in the back of his head reminded him of the words he spoke to you on the day that you announced you were pregnant. Oh, how they were not true.

Because as soon as he glanced at the baby, he knew in that moment that he wanted to be.. a father. Well, he wanted to try.

"She's beautiful.." he whispered, voice hoarse as he fought back the lump in his throat. Toby reached out but stopped himself. What if even a mere touch would make the baby disappear? What if.. somehow, he hurt her?! His expression pained as he hesitated, between wanting to love but being too afraid to do so. The both of you exchanged glances, your own look encouraging him silently. You trusted Toby, despite his nature, despite what he does; you knew he would never hurt her. And you relayed those very thoughts with a look alone as you gently urged the little bundle toward him. Toby wanted to decline but slowly, he took the baby within his own arms. He was awkward, freezing and sitting as still as he could, like she were made out of glass. It made you laugh. "You're not going to hurt her," you reassured with words this time. "But what if the day comes that I do?"

When Toby found out his daughters name were Lyla, he broke down into tears. He was crying so much that he kept calling himself 'such a little bitch' between each sob.

It was pretty funny.

But you didn't laugh, you just rubbed his shoulder reassuringly as he sobbed tears over his daughter.

Which prompted Lyla to whine softly.

And then Toby cried more because he thought he hurt her. Shit, this man was more hormonal than you were.

It took Toby many weeks to adjust to this new lifestyle and he tried his best to form a bond with his daughter. You had the pleasure of nine months to form a bond, Toby had no time to prepare at all.

But it was hard because every time he looked at her, his heart broke into a million tiny pieces.

She was too perfect, too beautiful and anxiety consumed him at the thought of losing her. He had just got you back!

And you were the two girls in his life he loved ever so dearly.

So, he insisted that he looked after her more. Despite the fact that every time he held her, he wanted to fucking die. He was too damn anxious for this shit.

Admittedly, as weeks turned into months, you were thankful for Toby's willingness to parent more often.

But it was hard at the start

It seemed Lyla hated Toby and it frustrated Toby each time she would cry whenever she were in his arms

She was clingy, and you understood both of their emotions.

So when Lyla was asleep, Toby would feel his emotions get the better of him too. He would be angry, but his anger turned more into sadness as he stormed off into the wilderness for some alone time.

And this happened often. Toby needed time and you understood this, a part of you feeling guilty for thrusting this parent role upon him so suddenly - especially after he expressed his discomfort with the idea of being a father.

But it was still early days.

And you were unsure on what happened that particular night but when Toby came back from his usual walks, he was a different man.

And when he gently scooped Lyla up into his arms, it seemed she noticed that too.

Perhaps it was the confidence? Or how calm he appeared?

Whatever it was, it seemed now they were inseparable.

The love in his gaze as he rocked Lyla gently in his arms, like he was holding his entire world and nothing was going to take that away from him.

Well, that was until Slender found out.

And it turned into a literal shit show.

The way Jack came storming into the cabin, bursting your little bubble you had created, your idea of a happy, normal family disappearing as quickly as you had dreamt it.

The panic on Toby's face as he knew.

And you knew.

You expected worse, but Slender was... forgiving.

You were unsure what was said, whether Jack had swayed his mind or perhaps if Toby promised some unspoken promise.

But the cabin you had given birth in was to become your home.

On one condition.

You were banished. No, you would not go back to society - especially not after the things you know and had seen, but you were to stay here until your death. Which would not be a peaceful death, but that day would come. For now, Lyla was fine and despite your worry about her future; Slender agreed that she would be fine.

You did not trust the entity's words. But you were thankful nevertheless.

"How the hell did you get so big?!" You heard Toby yell from the living room, Lyla's giggles followed. From the corner of your eye, Toby spun her around in the space of the living room. There was no denying that the scene warmed your heart, but also made you chew the bottom of your lip anxiously.

Toby always said that you worried about her too much and maybe you did, but fucking hell... if her ankle caught the table or her head on the wall! Rushing over, you quickly waved your arms out. "Whoaa, okay, hold on- she's gonna hurt herself or get sick-!" you quickly spoke, trying to pitch your voice a little louder than Lyla's giggles. Toby stopped momentarily, Lyla in his arms and he looked at you with a questioning look. "She's fine, see?" Toby held her out and she flopped in his arms, almost looking as if she were about to drop on the floor and instinctively you threw your hands out to catch her. The brunette could only chuckle as he bundled her up close to his chest. "You worry too much." Those same words again and you rolled your eyes, a soft crinkle of irritation evident in your brow. Lyla was.. fine and perhaps you did worry too much, but Toby didn't really understand the concept of.. gentle playing. Like the times he'd throw her in the air, it make you wanna vomit at the idea of her hitting her head on the roof, or god forbid - he drops her. She was too little for this roughness and deep down, she'd always be your little baby. But Lyla was nearly two and it broke your heart to admit that, as much as you enjoy watching her grow.

And she preferred playing with Toby than with you. Mostly because she was a carbon copy of Toby himself. From the nose to the hair colour. She had your eyes though, so screw you Toby.

Toby became the very man he promised himself he would become, the very father he wished he had himself.

Loving and caring. Lyla was most certainly Daddy's little girl and Toby wore that badge with pride.

If it weren't for the circumstances and for the fact that Toby does not own a wallet he'd have little pictures of his daughter nestled away inside the pocket of his wallet.

Despite the bumpy start, Lyla couldn't get enough of Toby and he ensured that every night he'd read her a bedtime story. He'd even fall asleep himself sometimes just beside her bed, other nights just wanting to sit close in case something were to happen.

Admittedly, a part of you worried that Toby was.. too attached to her.

But whenever they were together, Toby was healing something inside of him that he thought could never be healed.

And essentially, he was living a childhood he had always wished for through his own daughter.

Eventually, Lyla blossomed into a teenager and it was.... hell.

"I fucking hate this cabin, I hate being here! Why can't we be normal! What's with all this off the grid shit!" The voice yelled from down the hall. Oh, she wasn't wrong, Lyla had every right to be pissed but having to live with an angsty teenager that hated everyone and everything was a lot worse.

And Toby never, NEVER, did the punishments.

Just... strict words.

No, he couldn't trust himself, so let you deal with it.

But at times he would find himself taking Lyla outside for a walk to talk to her. To let her know that he was there if she wanted to talk.

And yes, Toby does 100% sneak her out to go to the nearest town.

All in all, Toby would be, against all odds, the best father he could offer. Though I do see him not wanting kids at all. I also HC that all the proxies are infertile anyway.

But if it were to play out, it'd probably be something like this. Toby would be the cool dad where you could just about get away with some stuff. Toby would also be one of those guys where he claims he hates the cat kid and then forms such a close bond with the cat kid.

Oh, and is this man protective of his children too. !

Very much refers to his children as 'sperm pet.' Or he pulls a Kratos and he's kinda like 'get 'ere, boy/girl.'

I RAMBLED TOO MUCH

I feel like I didn't really answer your question

I'm sorry. I will write more about this in the future though.

[daffodils-and-viscera]

i've seen a lot of posts comparing mastermind to truth seekers but hear me out: ozzie's

SO this may be long buckle in. these episodes kinda have the same plot?

blitzø has found himself in a bit of a sitch, as it were...

our beloved dramatic gay owl is at home watching gabriela pine over alejandro, when suddenly... blitzy is in trouble! omg let's get cunty and go save the day!!

however, despite showing up and saving lives (he may have literally saved blitzø's life in mastermind but that outfit from ozzie's changed all our lives forever soo...) blitzø isn't necessarily ((outwardly)) happy to see stolas (((we all know he does not mind stolas' ass in his face but stay with me here)))

stolas' privilege allows him to be immediately heard and not punished by the people who would never listen to blitzø's side of things, and stolas gets to be his dramatic lil bitch self and we love to see it

in ozzie's, blitzø has his past come back to haunt him in so many ways, he is put in the spotlight and he is decidedly not comfortable there, being called out for all the shit he's done to fizz and verosika and even m&m - HOWEVER! as we all now know, all of those people actually care about blitzø and he was just being his lil destructive self. he is given the chance to defend himself but it's overwhelming and he kinda freezes up

in mastermind, blitzø is being outright blamed for things he didn't do but like.. he actually didn't do any of that ! and yet he can't defend himself because nobody would listen to him even if he wasn't gagged.

the difference between these 2 episodes is in stolas' behaviour when HE is put in the spotlight- at ozzie's he is freshly separated from stella and probably hasn’t done anything social for a long ass time and he’s not used to being in public. and here’s this thing that he thinks is gonna be fun and will help blitzø but he is not able to express himself so he hides and the result of that is blitzø pushing him away, literally doesn’t want to touch him

in MASTERMIND our birdy babe is singing his lil heart out with no regard for what anyone else thinks of him or what might happen to him, which is so beautiful (but also stolas pls try not to inhale the water).... when he doesn't hide his feelings from blitzø we see how perfect it could be when their inner worlds merge and they are finally on the same page, and blitzø does the furthest thing possible from pushing stolas away !!!

(he did however still neglect to consider octavia's feelings when he decided to drop everything for blitzø... with devastating implications in mastermind) sorry to bring the mood down but this needs to be pointed out

in ozzie's, stolas tries to invite blitzø to his place (and we all remember how well that went)........ blitzø goes home alone and loona is not there, he is all alone and sad curled up on the couch on his phone looking at all the people he believes he's let down and it's heartbreaking

when stolas goes to blitzø's place in mastermind, stolas gets all the love and support blitzø has to offer and loona is there too and blitzø curls up on the couch on his phone looking at all these people who love and support him!!! and then he makes the couch all comfy for stolas and he’s not alone?? like they’re both so not alone that it hurts my heart to think about. these 2 have so much love for each other and yeah there's gonna be tough times ahead but they are not alone! !!!!

basically both eps end the same? but also everything is better now? because blitz was loved before he just couldn’t see it through all his nonsense

and stolas is still in a messed up situation and he's still kinda problematic and he couldn’t see it before through all his nonsense but now he’s more self aware?

the real difference is they have each other now! they are so not alone it makes them look stupid!!

anyway this is the longest post i've ever made sorry if it's rambly i have adhd and a lot of feelings about these two

[noorpersona]

Husbandry: Miya Atsumu

Atsumu had absolutely no qualms with his life at the moment. In fear of jinxing it, he could say it was damn near perfect. He had accomplished his professional dream, being on Japan's Olympic Volleyball team, alongside teammates who have known and played with almost half his life. The people he considered to be the highest of the high. To make things better, he had you by his side, the greatest gift he's ever gotten (He'd tell you but you'd laugh at him for being too cheesy). You two had quite the blissful marriage, and with finding out a few weeks ago that you were pregnant with twins, he couldn't be happier with you.

Atsumu had been checking his hair out in the bathroom, prepping it for a luncheon he, and subsequently you, were invited to by the Japan Volleyball Association.

"Fuck!"

Atsumu hears you shriek out of frustration from the other room. He jumps almost immediately, rushing in to see what was causing you alarm. Whipping around the door frame, arms up to defend his wife, his adrenaline dissipates as he finds you in front of your vanity mirror struggling to zip up what was your favourite dress, but has recently become your most hated. Your bump stretched the dress, making it hard for the ends to come around let alone the zipper. Your face is red with effort, and with a lot of emotion swirling in your eyes. "Hey, hey, you okay?" He calls out your name softly, which usually made you calmer, but in this mood, your temper only flared. So of course, you begin to cry. "No, I'm not okay! I wanted to wear this dress and it doesn't fit! Nothing fits me, and I've gotten fat!" You break, spilling your guts as well as your tears, letting the tension break away from you. Immediately, Astumu is at your side, hugging you and allowing you to bury your face in his chest. He rubs your back in a soothing motion, trying to get you to calm down. "Babe, who on earth said you're fat? You're pregnant." He gave you a squeeze, talking gently in your ear, but you shook your head. "But I got so big so fast!" You were whining now, and while Atsumu knew you were genuinely upset, he couldn't help but smile. Still, he gave you a reassuring kiss on your head. "Well yeah, there's two of em' in there." His hands went from your back to your swollen stomach, "They need room to grow." And you groan, being dramatic. "But what if at the party they think I'm fat?" You ramble, clutching Atsumu's steamed shirt. Your husband stutters, trying to think of the right answer. "I'll... Make sure to let everyone know we're pregnant?" "What?! I don't want people to know we're doing it!" Atsumu gives you a look of pure confusion. Atsumu blinked at you, his lips slightly parted in disbelief. "Sweetheart," he said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully, "you do know that's how babies happen, right? I mean, it ain't exactly a secret how we got here."

You groaned, your cheeks heating up. "I know that! But still, I don’t want them thinking about it. It's embarrassing!"

He couldn't help it—he laughed. A real, loud, genuine laugh that shook his shoulders and made his head tilt back. His amusement was contagious, and despite your earlier frustration, you felt your lips twitch into a reluctant smile.

"You’re somethin’ else, you know that?" Atsumu said, grinning as he wiped the corner of his eye. He leaned down and kissed the top of your head again, his hands gently squeezing your waist. "But if you don’t want people thinking about it, fine. I won’t say a word. But listen here—if anyone tries to say somethin' stupid about you tonight, I’ll let 'em know exactly how proud I am of you. No one messes with my wife."

You sniffled, swiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. "You promise?"

"Cross my heart, darlin’." He tilted your chin up with his thumb, meeting your watery gaze. "And for the record, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t you dare let that dress or anyone at that party tell you otherwise. Got it?"

"But what if—"

"No 'what ifs.'" Atsumu cut you off gently but firmly, resting his forehead against yours. "You’re not just my wife; you’re also the woman growin’ two babies, and if that ain’t somethin’ amazing, I dunno what is. So wear somethin’ that makes you feel comfy, and we’ll go in there and show everyone how perfect ya are—bump, dress, and all."

You sighed, leaning into him. "You always know what to say, don’t you?"

He smirked. "Nah, sometimes I wing it and hope for the best. But I’m glad this worked."

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension finally easing from your body. Atsumu, satisfied with your soft giggle, gave you another quick kiss before pulling back and gently guiding you to sit down on the bed.

"Stay put. I’ll pick you somethin’ else," he said, already heading to the closet.

"Wait, you’re picking my outfit?" You raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical.

He shot you a playful look over his shoulder. "Trust me, babe. I got this."

You weren’t entirely sure you did trust him, but the way he moved so determinedly between your closet and the mirror made you feel a little lighter. Besides, how could you not feel cared for when your husband was doing everything in his power to make sure you felt confident and loved?

Minutes later, Atsumu returned holding a simple but elegant dress you hadn’t worn in years. It was loose enough to accommodate your bump but still flattering in all the right ways. "Try this," he said, holding it up proudly.

You stood and slipped it on, and to your surprise, it fit perfectly. When you turned to face the mirror, Atsumu’s reflection was beaming behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"See? Told ya I got good taste," he said, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Thanks, 'Tsumu."

"Anytime," he murmured, his voice soft and full of love.

As you both got ready to leave for the luncheon, Atsumu leaned in one last time, his hand resting protectively over your belly. "Y’know," he whispered, "they’re real lucky to have you as their mom."

You smiled, your earlier worries completely forgotten. "And they’re lucky to have you as their dad."

With that, you headed out together, feeling lighter than you had all day.

[elsecrytt]

Your Heart is Spilling out, Babe

Pairing: Satoru Gojo/Reader

Summary: You and Satoru are friends with benefits. No feelings, that was the agreement from the start. Neither of you want anything more. Even if you did, it wouldn’t work out, anyways. Not that you care if it would.

Tags: fwb, smut, angst, YEARNING, requited unrequited feelings (or ARE they) but jk it’s totally no feelings, commitment/abandonment issues, not that it matters because you totally don’t have feelings anyways

“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight. You can shower before you leave, if you want.”

“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” He asks, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”

A hum. “Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”

“What a coincidence,” he lays down next to you, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”

You don’t say anything more, eyes already closed.

Satoru’s arm presses your form against his, just barely.

When he wakes up, you’re still laying there beside him, unmoving.

He leaves.

At first, Satoru tries to tell himself it’s a happy coincidence.

After all, isn’t it? His problem has always been the women (and men) who give him a certain kind of look before he gets up to leave.

The ones who text him back first, who read everything instantly, who always want to meet up again. The ones who always, inevitably, start to want something more.

Like him giving them the fuck of a lifetime with someone who could be a real-life supermodel and happens to be the greatest sorcerer on earth wasn’t enough. Granted, they don’t know about the sorcerer thing, but still!

It always turns out like this:

Things are good for a while. Sex is good, he gets attention when he texts them, they both understand this is totally casual, no commitment.

Sometimes he even brings up another hookup he’s going to, just to drive the point home, and he cheers them on when they’re getting some somewhere else, too.

(He’s got no reason to be insecure, after all. He would be anyone’s first choice.)

From there, he can admit some of it is his fault. It’s hard, being as irresistible as he is. Being so devastatingly good-looking and even better in bed.

Having so much humor and personality in his amazing texts (never mind that most of them just react with an emoji or a short haha or an unrelated compliment – he drinks it all up just the same).

They start to text him first, which is impressive, considering what a spammer he is. He likes to text them to fill his time, to talk to someone, have his notifications filled with messages of people who want him.

So what if it’s an ego boost? Isn’t that what they’re using him for, too?

But when they start texting him themselves, when they return his style of badgering, it’s not random and rambling. It’s affectionate, personal. They’ve gotten attached, and they want him to be, too.

It’s all nonsense like Saw this and thought of you, and You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, and I want to meet up again soon.

He has to stop spamming with memes or selfies or random observations throughout his day, stop talking about shops or cafes he’d like to visit. Sometimes he has to mute their notifications, because when he spams other people, they feel comfortable spamming him.

And then it’s just a matter of how long he spends lying to himself. Because as much of an ass as he is, it’s cruel to let them get attached to him when he can’t really open up entirely. When he doesn’t want anything serious.

In fairness, he had told them from the start. He usually breaks it off only after a few days. He always sends them a message and just blocks them – it’s cleaner that way.

Answering any desperate Please, we can still be friends or No, let’s just hook up again, would give them hope for things he can’t give them.

But you?

You text him You’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met, and leave him on read for two days.

Satoru thinks he’s in love.

Not literally, of course, but in love with the relationship he has with you, which is perfect.

Everything about it is perfect, except for that it’s not going on all the time.

You respond to his memes with your own. Chat with him about cafes and desserts and even keep a handful at your home to treat him with. You text him cat pictures, sometimes return selfies if he’s lucky.

Usually he gets those when he sends the thirst pics, sitting there with a grin that scares Ichiji, absolutely giddy as he watches you type, stop typing – he knows you’re looking for something special to send him back.

It’s surprising, how well he just knows things about you. Maybe that was to be expected, though, with your chemistry.

Sex with you is like nothing he’s ever felt before.

You have this way of tensing up, expression shifting as you’re right about to cum – he thinks by now he’s conditioned by it, that just seeing you make that face could get him over the edge.

He’s fucked hot people before but no one like you. Seeing the same clothes from your cute little selfies slip off, it’s like unwrapping a present he can’t wait to eat up. Makes him salivate like a box of chocolates, like the one truffle package you got one time and made him eat on his knees with his head in your lap, out of your hands.

Fucking you is one of his favorite things ever, right up there with kikufuku and making fun of his coworkers (and students!). You’re a beautiful bend of reactive and pliant, so fun to tease and edge and so rewarding to please.

God, fuck, he wants you. He wants you all the time. All his other hookups are silenced in favor of you, boring conversations abandoned in favor of debating tiramisu and tres leches, and all other sorts of inane things.

What your favorite school subjects are, oddly enough (he supposes he was asking for it, telling you he taught high schoolers).

You like literature, he likes math, and when he hears you talk about it, he almost wants to read some of those novels you like so much. Non-sorcerer politics has never meant anything to him but it matters when he hears you talk about it.

It’s like hearing about a whole separate world with its own struggles. Your opinions are so well-thought out, he can tell just how much you care, and something hums along aside him as he asks questions, nods his head, really listens to what you have to say. It feels so surreal to hear someone whose goals are not so unlike his, when he thinks about it.

Maybe that’s where some of this fondness comes from. Maybe it’s humbling, thinking you want to change your world just as much as he wants to change his, and the only difference is how much people listen.

He can’t imagine not wanting to listen to you. People should listen more. You should run everything, he jokes.

(He’s joking. He’s joking. You don’t know enough to get why he says that twice.)

And then it’s not serious again – when was it ever, really? You talk about your favorite manga and anime and tease each other for your tastes. Maybe talk about episodes or movies you’ve seen together.

He’s admittedly a bit of a movie buff – it’s a real victory when he convinces you to watch one of his old favorites. When he finds out you watched it, he’s excited the whole day to hear what you thought.

You debate what animals you would be; you are definitely a cat – aloof and independent – and you’re quite insistent that he’d be a husky, energetic and annoying and – probably other words you say before he sends you a picture of his dick and you facetime him with some more interesting conversation.

Your days – weeks, months, really – they go on like that, they’re great. Everything is perfect, really.

So when he hears you casually mention you’ve got other dinner plans – when his mind instantly supplies we’re just casual, tease her and hope she gets lucky – the wretched, dark twist in his gut is wholly unexpected.

And he knows instantly. Immediately, really, because he’s just too smart not to.

He knows he doesn’t want you going out with other people. Touching them. Showing them the same faces you show him.

But if he wants you to be his, then he has to ask. And you – you make him wait to hear back.

You never reach out to him first. You open the door with a cool expression, like your heart doesn’t race at the sight of him like his does (he can see it is, he can see it, but his soul is withering at your look like you couldn’t care less).

Satoru doesn’t usually have to ask, not for anything.

People beg to be able to fuck him. They spam when he ghosts them, begging for scraps. He doesn’t have to ask for attention, people shower him in it.

Everyone wants him. They love him. They don’t abandon him along with all their morals and tell him to kill them if he doesn’t like it.

They beg him to stay, and he is the one who leaves.

He’s too much for them. Too much for anyone. You wouldn’t be able to hand him, anyways.

And he can leave any time he wants, he just… doesn’t want to.

(He never wants to leave. He wants it to stay like this, forever. But when does it ever turn out like that?)

Besides, you’re – you also want it to stay casual. Like he told you from the beginning. Probably trying to save your feelings from getting hurt – and can he blame you? Really, with his looks, anyone would be scared to lose him.

So this was just… a happy coincidence. You didn’t want it serious, he didn’t want it, either.

“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight. You can shower before you leave, if you want.”

Satoru’s lip twitches, but it doesn’t manage a smile. It almost feels like you’re kicking him out.

But he knows you’re not, because even if you were the one person on earth who could resist his irresistible charm, he just gave you some absolutely mind-blowing sex.

“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” Satoru teases, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”

He says it playfully, casually, because it is casual. It wouldn’t bother him if you told him to fuck off right then and there. It wouldn’t.

You hum noncommittally. “Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”

If he’s relieved that he can stay, it’s because he’s as exhausted as you are. Because you make him feel good, so fucking good, like he’s on top of the world. Having to leave would just be a mood killer.

“What a coincidence,” He purrs, laying next to you on the bed, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”

He is not and never has been. He sleeps three hours a night wakes up by 5am.

It’s never bothered him before. His dreams are not a place he wants to be. But they’ve never hurt him when you were there.

He wraps an arm around you, holding you against him, just barely. Not too tight.

You don’t say anything more. You lay there and let him hold you while you fall asleep.

When he wakes, you’re still laying there beside him, unmoving.

The thing is, you’re awake. He knows that. You’re a light sleeper. Always have been.

He knows you hate morning showers yourself, and always do it at night. Knows what you like for breakfast, how to make it. That you like to sleep in because you have trouble sleeping.

He knows what you think about late at night because you text him about it, because he’s always there texting you, because neither of you can sleep and someone ends up calling and whispering secret scattered thoughts in hushed tones and –

And he honestly doesn’t know, if it’s you or him that slips in the I want to touch you right now, or Want me to kiss it better. Who turns it into sex so things can’t get to be too much.

Satoru would really, really like to think that it’s him, but the truth is that he’s reaching the limit of how believable his lies are, even to himself.

He knows, he knows he knows he knows that if he stayed, you would let him –

(If he repeats it enough it will surely become true.)

– but you both agreed no feelings.

Besides, it’s not like he wants to stay, anyways.

(Why won’t you ask him to come back?)

You know what Satoru is the moment you meet him. It’s not like he’s made any secret of it, either.

A whore. A man-whore, if you will. A player. Whatever it is. He slept with people, drank in all the sex and attention and then went on his merry way.

You get it. This wasn’t the first time you’d met a pretty boy who fucked around, not by a long shot.

He says all casual, no feelings, you smile and nod, and you go back to his place fully expecting to be disappointed because pretty boys usually suck in bed.

And then he fucks you within an inch of your life.

He eats you like a man staved. Hands roving over your skin, groping and squeezing in a way that would be violating, if his beautiful eyes weren’t wild and desperate.

His body is toned and smooth and perfect, unmarred skin that he presses to yours like he’s trying to staunch the bleeding of some invisible wound.

You’ve never felt like this before. Sex has never been this amazing. He props his stupid pretty face up on his elbow and he gives you that stupid charming boyish smirk and asks you if you want to go another round, red-faced and eager. It’s overwhelming and exciting and amazing –

And it’s terrifying, because it’s always like this for him, isn’t it? He just came in and gave you the fuck of a lifetime, but this is just another lay for him.

(But he’s having fun. It’s good for him, too. So why don’t you take what you can get?)

So when he saves his number in your phone, That was awesome, babe, we should do this again sometime, you don’t put a lot of weight into his words. You roll his eyes when he blows you a kiss goodbye, but you don’t delete his number.

Even when he wakes you up with some silly cat meme (god, you hate morning people), somehow you find yourself smiling. You let him know he can get his dick sucked any time if he meows cute enough and woah, maybe you’re coming on too strong –

He sends you an attachment of himself wearing cat ears, striking an obnoxious pose, with a fake tail that he holds by the end in his mouth.

Satoru Gojo, that’s the name. And you do suck his dick, like you promised, but he comes to you determined to get in character, meowing at you, pressing his face into your hands, rubbing into your side, nuzzling your panties while he looks up into your face with a smirk.

It’s a fight to get him on his back and his legs open wide enough for you to settle in. He meows again like a kitty, and purrs like one too when you take his cock into your mouth, hands threading through your hair. Giggling at his own antics.

Your eyes water when you take him, deep, moaning and feeling him shudder at the feeling, long legs squirming on either side of you. He pulls away suddenly, with a pop, laughing when his dick hits the side of your face and you glare at him. Sticking out his tongue.

He looks so young. So heartbreakingly sweet and charming. He pulls you in to settle you on his cock, face-to-face this time, his smile melting into something soft and tacky, sticking to your lips as he kisses his precum away. Infectious delight.

Satoru holds your hands in his, palm to palm, as you ride him in his lap. Face tilted up to look at you with a blush on his cheeks. Blue eyes wide like they have to be, to take you in, as if they aren’t themselves oceans you have to stop yourself from falling into.

You can’t look into his eyes when you cum, when he cums. You’re not sure if he’s looking either.

But you feel him, oh, do you feel him – hands squeezing yours as if in warning, face buried into your neck, a moan that vibrates throughout the both of you.

When you wake up, the next morning, you don’t even mind the fact that he’s still next to you, cuddled up, right beside you. You don’t mind, until you feel him stiffen suddenly, like he’s realized you’re awake, immediately pulling away.

That’s… you’re not sure what it is, since cuddling was obviously okay, so why does he not want to do it while you’re awake? It is too close? Too intimate?

He’d held your hands while he stared deep into your eyes and rocked gently into you last night, but cuddling would be too intimate?

But he smiles that smile before he leaves, stumbling a little bit while he gets dressed, in that goofy way that lanky tall men sometimes do. You even overlook the fact that he’s renamed himself in your contacts. ~ Satoru ~ My Kitten.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid (you’re smiling already), unbearable man. You want to hit him in the face, with your face. Very hard.

Casually, of course. It’s casual between you. No feelings at all.

But then he starts texting you all the time. He double, triple, quadruple texts, with the infuriating shamelessness of someone who’s never been ignored in his life.

Like he’s never worried that the other person is losing interest. He carries himself like it, too, like he knows everyone wants him, and unfortunately, he’s right.

So you tell him he’s annoying and you don’t look at your phone again. Not until he shows up on your doorstep with that pout on his impossibly pretty face.

And you don’t turn him away. Why would you? If he’s going to offer himself on a platter, why not eat up?

You’re just being realistic here. If you fucked him once and never heard from it again, it would still hurt almost as much as it will now. You’ll just be a little lonelier without your texting partner, but you’ll get over it.

There’s other fish in the sea. Even if none of them are as pretty as him, none of them make them laugh like you do. You’re not exclusive. He can see other people, so can you. You’ve made it a point not to ask.

You don’t like what he’s doing now. How he pauses long, makes you wait before telling you to have fun on your date.

How the next time you see him there’s something strange in his eyes, something that leaves him with clawing hands, hungry mouth, eager to leave his marks all over you.

Satoru doesn’t stop texting you, doesn’t stop selfies, thirst traps, prodding little questions and jokes, doesn’t stop obnoxiously demanding (begging?) for your attention.

At first it was an ego boost. Now, it’s terrifying.

Because now he likes you, doesn’t he? He’s interested now. Having fun. Making you feel like he’s jealous, acting like he’s on withdrawal if he goes too long without you, making you feel like someone as beautiful and rich and funny as him could possibly be in love with you.

But he told you in the beginning. Something casual.

Maybe these feelings are real in the moment. But one day they’ll fade, and everything will be yanked right out from under you.

You’ll wonder why he’s getting distant these days. You’ll remember that you never made it official, and sweat over the possibility that he’s seeing someone else. At the end of the day that’s all you’ll be able to do; worry and worry while you’re too afraid to ask.

You’ll wonder what you did wrong. What you did to lose him. How you could go from someone so fascinating, someone he so thoroughly adored and fucked like he was making love, to an afterthought and a stranger, unless you did something wrong? Unless you made a mistake, somewhere along the line?

The mistake of getting attached to him in the first place.

Fuck that. Satoru can develop feelings on his own fucking time. He’ll lose them just as quickly, you can tell.

This isn’t anything more than a hookup to him. He’s an attention whore who likes to hear himself talk, and you’re dumb enough to entertain him because you’re lonely and easily amused, at least when it comes to him.

There’s nothing real here.

You still don’t know where he actually works, outside of some nebulous high school teaching situation. Where he lives. What he does most of the day, what his parents are like. Where he’s from, even. You don’t know if he’s seeing anyone else. He could be married with kids, for all you know.

Not – not that you care. Not that you give a fuck what he’s doing, who he’s fucking, where he is when he’s not with you. You don’t care about him past his dick and what it does to you.

If you did care, you’d only suffer for it. So you draw the line.

You don’t need him, and you want to keep it that way. You don’t want to get attached, and neither does he. So you try to keep him at arm’s length.

Close enough to touch but not so close that your foolish, eager heart can leap out of your chest and into his hands.

Would he still give you that boyish grin when he rejected you? Laugh and let you down gently? Would he say yes and hold your hand while you walked together to the guillotine, the painful end to a relationship that wasn’t supposed to happen anyways? Would he skip away while your heart seized and trembled on the executioner’s block?

He’d look pretty even with blood on his face, you’re sure. But you wouldn’t come out so nicely.

So you don’t ask him to stay. You don’t ask him for anything. You take what you’re given and you savor it, but you try – oh, god, do you fucking try – to find someone else, something else to occupy your time.

But he’s just too good. You want him. And you don’t get to have him if you ignore his texts and don’t answer when he’s at the door. You don’t get to fuck him if you won’t even let him see you.

So even if you look away, even if your answers are short, even if you don’t let him stay (not that he even wants to) – you have to let him in.

And unlike you, he’s got self-respect. He’s got other options. If he can’t have you, he’ll just fuck other people, so you can’t push him away too much. You have to make him want to come back. You have to make him want to give you more.

But you can’t control what Satoru wants, and that is the problem.

It’s out of your hands, locked securely in his ribcage where you can never get to it.

He doesn’t talk about his life, his history, doesn’t even complain about work during off hours.

Really, it’s already over, isn’t it? Has been, ever since the beginning. You’re just waiting for the inevitable end.

“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight.” You say, tired. So tired, and warm. Satoru always leaves you like this; loose-limbed and floaty, high enough to feel the drop. “You can shower before you leave, if you want.”

“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” Satoru asks, teasing, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”

You close your eyes, trying not to think of what his face must look like.

“Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”

“What a coincidence,” He purrs, laying next to you on the bed, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”

Satoru’s arm around your form presses you against him, just barely. Not too close. Never too close.

You don’t say anything more. You lay there and let him hold you while you fall asleep.

You can feel it when he wakes up. How his breathing changes, how he stiffens and tenses against you, you tumble out of sleep instantly, lashes fluttering.

You shut them closed again. Relax yourself. You don’t have to get up. You don’t want to get up.

Why isn’t he leaving yet? What’s taking him so long?

There’s this tension that creeps into your chest. Like you can feel each individual breath he takes. Waiting for him to say something, shake you awake – but why would he? And why would you want him to?

You know what this is. You’ve always known.

So you lay there, still, breathing calm and even, until he leaves.

(…Come back. Please come back.)

[suiana]

I cant do this anymore our science and ap subject now have math

so sorry to hear that babe... but imagine dying and ur yandere! scientist who's your best friend that's not-so-secretly in love with you brings you back to life after you accidentally die

you're dazed, body completely stiff and sore as you take in your surroundings. huh... why did it feel like you just woke up from a super duper long nap? where were you? weren't you dead? you were pretty sure that you got hit by a truck when you were walking home...

that's when you realize that you were chained to a bed.

"what the-?!"

"good morning darling! did you sleep well?"

your best friend pops out from nowhere, surprising you as he holds out a few of his thingy majigs. what? were you in his... home or something? doesn't look like it but since he's here it's not completely impossible-

"you're in my lab, my cute lil frankestein ❤️"

???

um... were you hearing correctly or did he just call you frankestein?

"whaha... funny joke my guy-"

and then you sit up and realise that he wasn't joking. you really did look like a freak of nature. a real frankestein.

your skin was stitched together, the colour looking almost green and- what the hell did you lose an eyeball?

"you-! did you steal my body from the cemetery?!"

"i couldn't let my darling die now, could i?"

the scientist merely shakes his head, clicking his tongue. you could only stare at him in horror as he begins going on another one of his stupid rambles about how he needed you by his side and how he would die if you weren't there with him.

"uh, i never said it when i was alive but dude, don't you think you like me a little too much? it's almost like you love me or something haha-"

"oh my, wasn't it obvious? i am in love with you."

oh my balls.

"if it wasn't obvious from how i talked to you, i'm pretty sure it is through my actions. i mean,"

he pauses, looking at you before sighing dreamily. he clasps his hands together, wearing a crazed look on his already crazy face. you could only shiver as he presses a kiss to your forehead and sits down uncomfortably close to you.

"i brought you back to life after all."

you feel your mouth grow dry at his words, unable to get anything out. what were you supposed to say to that? i mean, yeah, you think he's devoted if he brought you back...? like???

"good news though! i found a way to help you live forever! you won't ever die now!"

"what?!"

if it were possible, you think your only remaining eye would've rolled out of your skull as well.

"oh don't worry, my sweet darling. when the time comes i'll make myself a frankestein too! that way we can be together forever!"

that was not what you wanted to hear, damnit.

sure you loved him as a friend but now that you know that he likes you? and that he's crazy enough to steal your body from the cemetery (which you're 99% sure is a crime) AND bring you back to life... you're pretty sure you'd be trying to find another way to die if you had to spend the rest of time with him ngl.

"we'll never be apart again ❤️"

oh hell nah you're getting BACK in the coffin

[billieshrry]

I’ll Be Watching You • B.E.

Summary: Billie has had her eye on you for awhile, you don’t know just how far she’ll go to get you.

Warnings: violence (dv from a m*n), psycho!billie, stalker!billie, ummm murder?, sorta bimbo!reader, age gap (not mentioned but billies a few years older)

Authors note: hi guys I’m trying to write so more ppl see my posts and blog and follow me so i can make friends Lol. I hope u enjoy!

The wind blew through your hair as you walked home from work. The chilly fall weather was soothing, but you could feel your cheeks turning red the closer it got to sunset. You walk in the door at 6:34pm on the dot, bending down to pet your cats before tossing your keys in the dish by the front door and sliding your shoes off.

He followed you inside, his arm on your back.

You didn’t notice the girl across the street watching your every move from her garage, where she was pretending to focus on her exercises.

You just waltzed into your home, into her sight, oblivious as ever. It was kind of cute to her, how clueless you had been for the past 3 months.

You didn’t bother to wonder who could’ve been watching through your bedroom window. She saw it all. She watched your midnight dances in your tight little tank tops and matching underwear. She watched you study, enamored by the way your eyes squinted when you focused. The way you nibbled on your pen, probably so confused because your little head could only process so much. She watched you fuck him, how short and unpleasant it looked. How quick he was, how he never paid attention to you.

You never once closed the blinds, the curtain, or shied away from the window frame.

It’s like you wanted her to keep watching, she felt like you were inviting her into your home. You wanted this. You wanted her. So, she did what anyone who felt wanted would do.

She gave you want you wanted. She never stopped watching, never stopped taking mental notes on your every action, your every emotion.

So when she saw him take you upstairs, she thought she knew what she was about to watch. She mentally prepared for the 4 minutes she was about to endure.

She watched you stand on your tippy toes, your entire body in frame, as you tried to find a specific set of lingerie in your drawer. You wanted to look sexy for him.

For him? Or for her.

It almost reminded her of the first time she saw you, when you were walking home from your job at the café in the quaint little town you lived in.

You accidentally let your cat out of the house, and it climbed up into a tall bush in front of the house. She watched your struggle, your short limbs unable to reach the poor cat’s hiding spot. She watched as you looked around, wondering if anyone could help you. She watched as you skimmed over her, not even noticing the pale, black haired girl who was pretending to work out in her garage. She just kept lifting the dumbbells, wondering how dumb you were.

Silly little thing, she thought. What a silly, little girl.

She placed the dumbbells down and put her headphones onto her collarbone, wiping the sweat from under her nose before crossing the street to your house. You turned quickly, hearing the leaves rustle as someone approached you. You jumped slightly when you heard the deep yet smooth voice from behind you.

“Need a little help, babe?”

You turn over your right shoulder, seeing what you think is the most beautiful girl in the world. Her eyes pierced yours, her teeth glimmering in the sunset lighting, her skin bright and so clear. You stutter over yourself, looking up at her. Her clothes stuck to her chest with sweat, her arms glistening and her bra strap just barely hanging out of the tank top she was in.

“Y- yes please! My cat, my stupid little cat, she got stuck in this bush! I knew I shouldn’t have opened the door so wide, my music just made me completely forget about real life! I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry!” You ramble to the stranger in front of you.

“Hey, hey, shh,” she says, calming you down although now her own heart rate is through the roof. “I’ll get the poor kitty, you just go inside.”

You oblige, running in to make sure your other cat was okay. You watch through a front window as she climbs into the bush to get your scared little fuzzball, your heart swelling with appreciation. She pets Oscar’s (your cat’s) head lovingly before smiling at you through the window. You come back outside, your smile wide and your eyes bright, practically skipping to get your cat from the sweet stranger who lived across the street.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! Seriously I owe you! That could’ve really scratched you up!” You say, looking at the light red scratches on her upper arm from the twigs in the bush.

“Really, it’s no problem. I’m right across the street if you need anything. The name’s Billie.”

You smile at the girl, and although you feel bad for interrupting her workout, you believe her sentiment. You introduce yourself to her before she walks back across the street, slipping her headphones on before laying down on the bench and lifting the dumbbells again.

And that, that was the last interaction you two had.

To your knowledge, at least.

Billie, on the other hand, became obsessed with you. Watched your every move. Watched where you drove, watched when you came home, watched who you invited into your house. She was intrigued by your innocence, by your trustfulness to have people in your house without knowing what they would do. Without knowing their true intentions. Without knowing that she was watching everything.

So when she watched you pick out a little lace bra, with the cutest little bow in the front, she took a deep breath, slouching down in her chair, feeling herself get hot.

She watched you bend over, ass toward the window, as you pulled your old pair of panties off. She watched your back arch, your cute little ass right on display for her. She watched you slip on the matching thong to the bra she saw you choose, biting her thumb and taking mental photos of you. She never wanted this to end.

But then, she saw something that she never expected to see.

She saw that man, that boy that had the luck of the draw with you, storm into your bedroom and slap you across the face. She watched as you tumbled over, your hand immediately holding the sting on your cheek. Billie shot up out of her chair, full of shock, which quickly turned into anger. She watched as he pulled his fist back again, but she quickly pulled the blinds. She wouldn’t watch anymore. She physically couldn’t.

Billie paced her room for an hour, peeking out of her front window every few minutes, checking if he was still there. If your light had shut off, if the blinds were closed, if he was gone.

Finally, at 10:12pm, she watched as he stormed out of your room. You were sitting on the bed, sobbing, with your face red from tears and your arms bruised from him. She watched you get up to turn the light off, and then she watched him exit your house.

She knew exactly what she had to do.

She couldn’t do it today, it’d be too obvious, she thought. But she started to watch him instead. She knew everything about him in the span of 24 hours.

Where he worked, his address, his parents, the name of his first pet, his license plate, his first grade teacher.

Billie found it all.

So it was no accident when she drove to the mechanic shop 2 days later. She pulled into the parking lot across the street, watching everyone leave their job for the night. But when she laid her eyes on him, her heart sped up. She was excited.

Billie was ready to kill the man that hurt you, all while you were watching a cozy show in your cute little bedroom, oblivious to it all.

She followed him to a gas station, and as he got out of his shitty little car, she pounced. The station was empty, the night was silent, and she made sure nobody would hear him scream. The hood she used around his head was full of chloroform, so his weak little body went limp in her arms in a matter of seconds. She shoved him into the backseat of her car, and sped home.

As she pulled in, she watched you dig into your bowl of popcorn in your bedroom, your eyes never leaving the screen. How ironic that the movie you were watching was Scream. How festive.

When she pulled into the garage and dragged his unconscious body into her basement, she tied him up to the chair and felt herself get excited. It had been a minute since she had been in this position, ready to kill for a girl. That’s why she had to move into your neighborhood in the first place.

She waited 2 hours, perfecting her tools on the table, waiting for him to wake up. So when he did, and he realized where he was (or realized he didn’t know where he was) the boy started to scream. He wailed and cried, looking at the knives in front of him, feeling his hands and legs tied down.

“Shut up you pussy.” Billie said, almost laughing at his pleas for her to not hurt him. “You fucking hurt my girl, so I’m gonna fucking kill you, alright?”

And so, she did exactly that.

She turned on her speaker in the basement, singing to herself some old classic rock, grabbing her favorite switchblade out of the 4 she had on her tray.

Her feet crinkled the tarp that lay underneath her and your boyfriend.

His eyes locked with hers one last time before she took the knife across his throat, watching the blood spill out of his stupid, ugly body.

Billie carved out his organs, ripping his beating heart out of his chest and holding it up in pride after an hour of torture. Holding the little bitch’s life in her hands, the little bitch that had the audacity to hurt you.

She smiled to herself, thinking of you and how happy you’d be to know he’s gone.

She saved you.

All of this happening while you snuggled up in your bed on the cozy October night, dreaming of the girl you had met that one time from across the street.

Dreaming of the girl who just murdered your boyfriend.

🙂🙂🙂 sorry guys but i felt spooky and im def gonna make a part 2 or make this a series or something if you want it. Also i didnt proofread so sorry

[solxamber]

If you haven’t gotten this already, maybe a part 2 to Idia x sentient npc reader?

Maybe they somehow find themselves in twst? Maybe isekai style (I’m stuck on you villainess fics lol)? Or if you had other ideas that’s totally fine too. (I’m not used to requesting 😭)

I really like your stuff so honestly I wanna give you as much creative freedom. Or if you feel like that fic is over/you don’t have inspo for it anymore that’s understandable too 😊

Keep up the amazing work!! 💖💖

Idia Shroud x Sentient NPC Part 2

Part 1 : here

Thank you for the request, and I'm glad you like my isekai fics <3

The moment you blink into existence in Twisted Wonderland, you’re not sure if this is real life or another game glitch. One minute you were comfortably breaking the fourth wall and wooing a gamer, and the next? You’re standing in front of an overgrown haunted house with a big “Night Raven College” sign. And a certain blue-haired, fire-topped guy is gaping at you like you’ve just sprouted another head.

“W-WAIT,” Idia stammers, eyes wide behind his tablet as he stares at you. “This—This isn’t happening. There’s no way. Did I… did I actually summon an NPC?!”

You take one look at him—tousled hair, dark circles under his eyes, and the way his fingers hover over his tablet like it’s some sort of lifeline—and a grin tugs at your lips. Oh, this is gonna be good.

“Well, well, well,” you say, casually strolling over to him. “If it isn’t my favorite player. Miss me?”

Idia makes a noise somewhere between a squeak and a strangled gasp, his whole body freezing up. “Y-You—! You’re here! How are you here?! Did I—is this some cursed DLC? Am I in a nightmare? Oh my god, is this another event?!”

You lean in, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Nightmare? Babe, I thought you were happy to see me.”

Idia’s face flushes a deep red, and he yanks his hoodie up over his head, mumbling something incoherent into the fabric. “H-Happy? Who said anything about happy?! I didn’t sign up for a ‘real-life NPC invading my world’ edition!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? You weren’t just thinking about how much you’d like me if I were in the real world?”

He stiffens so hard it’s like his entire spine turned into a steel rod. “HOW DID YOU—NO. I didn’t—this isn’t—this is a glitch, it has to be! Or a fever dream. Or maybe I finally lost it after all those sleepless nights grinding for rare drops—"

"You're cute when you ramble," you interrupt with a smirk, enjoying watching him implode. "So, are you going to show me around this place, or should I just assume you’re too flustered to handle me?"

Idia stares at you like you’ve grown two extra heads. “Y-You’re just… okay with this? You’re literally… in a different dimension, and you’re fine?!”

You shrug. “Eh, it’s a step up from my last gig. Besides,” you add, leaning in closer, “I kinda like having you as my guide.”

His brain short-circuits for a full ten seconds. “G-GUIDE?! L-Like an actual dating sim?! Do you think this is a game?!”

You pause dramatically. “Isn’t everything a game?”

There’s an audible groan from behind you, and you turn to find Grim, your new furry audience member, smacking his face with his paw. “Great, just what we needed—another weirdo.”

Idia, still staring at you like you’re some kind of unholy glitch in his life’s code, manages to stammer out, “I—I can’t believe this is real. There’s no way this is real.”

You smirk. “It’s real, all right. And don’t pretend you’re not thrilled. I can practically hear your heart racing.”

His face flushes even deeper, and he clutches his tablet like it’s his last connection to sanity. “Okay, okay. You’re in Twisted Wonderland, fine. But this doesn’t mean you get to start… start messing with the plot!”

You grin. “Who says I’m here to follow the plot?”

Idia lets out a strangled noise, burying his face deeper in his hoodie. “This… this is too much. I’m not ready for this level of immersion. This is like, hardcore VR, but real! And with you here, it’s… it’s… OH MY GOD, WHAT DO I DO?!”

You put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look at you. “Easy. You play the game, Idia. And let me show you how fun it can get when I’m the one writing the script.”

The look of sheer panic—and excitement—on his face is priceless. "Y-You're serious?!" he squeaks, not sure whether to pass out or burst into flames from sheer embarrassment. "But, like—what if this is a permanent event?! What if I never—"

"Oh, relax," you say, poking his chest lightly. "I'll make sure we both enjoy this little 'quest.'"

There’s another groan from Grim, but you ignore him, keeping your eyes locked on the flustered mess in front of you. Idia’s practically a puddle at this point, cheeks redder than Riddle’s roses, but you know he’s loving every second of it.

“Okay,” he mutters, glancing between you and his tablet. “Okay, I can work with this. Maybe it’s not a total catastrophe. I mean, you’re here, so—wait, does that mean you’re, like… my NPC now?”

You flash him a rogue grin. “If that’s what you want, I’m all yours.”

Idia blinks. Then, with the kind of realization that only a true gamer would have, he straightens up slightly. “I-Is this… the ultimate secret route?!”

"Could be," you say, leaning in closer. "You think you can handle it?"

He stares at you, wide-eyed and flustered beyond belief, but finally, he nods—though it's more of a nervous twitch than anything. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I-I can handle it. This is fine. Totally fine. Just… don’t, uh, don’t go rogue too much? I-I don’t think I can survive if you start rewriting my entire life!”

You laugh. “No promises, player.”

The panic in his eyes is real, but so is the smile slowly creeping onto his face. And as you stand there, facing him in this strange new world, you realize you’re both about to have a lot of fun.

"Welcome to the real game," you whisper, before pulling him into a kiss.

Idia promptly drops his tablet.

Masterlist

[simphornies]

Could I have it's fine if not

A vox x reader where shes his secretary?

A/N: Your wish is my command, <3 This was fun to write. I definitely headcanon Vox as someone that would fluster easily because he's just constantly around the Vees so being around somebody else that he isn't trying to hypnotize or boss around is new territory for him. Enjoy a flustered Vox. Definitely let me know if you'd like a part 2. I love subjecting him to this in my stories.

Word count: 2.9k words (2,948)

Breathtaking [ Vox x Secretary!Reader ]

The moment Vox saw you standing in front of him in his office, he immediately took notice of your curves. The way your uniform hugged every inch of you nicely. He didn't want to admit that you are Velvette's top model. Not that random bitch Valentino tore up in his fit of rage.

Your intelligence. Your charisma. Your hunger for power. He watched you ever since you demanded to work in his company. He took note of every quirk you have, replaying everything you've done throughout the day just in case he missed something.

When he saw that you were getting approached by Valentino, something boiled inside of him. He didn't want him to have your soul and body. Hell. Your body. He wanted you all to himself. No contracts. No deals. But there's one problem. He has no idea how to approach you. Like at all.

"C'mon darling~" Valentino plays with your hair, "I promise I can make you a star. Imagine it, you and Angel Dust. Side by side. You'll make so much money you won't even know what to do with it!" He breathes out his red smoke, surrounding you both. You could only see his eyes glowing behind it. "Don't run away, babe. Make a deal with me." He grins as his voice echoes around you.

You were about to try and fight for your life against an overlord until the smoke clears out with a zap. You feel the electricity crackling in the air. An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into them. It was Vox.

"Valentino!" He smiles, "I see you've met my new personal assistant." Val scoffs, a little upset that he got first pick. You weren't entirely aware that you got boosted up to being an assistant but hey. You'd rather that than be a pornstar.

"You never told me this little princesa's your assistant. When did that start?" He whined.

"It started now. I told you I've been watching one of our..." He chuckles, trying to find the right words as to not expose him basically watching you, "...newest recruits."

Valentino almost chokes on his smoke, offended at the lie he just spat out. "Well I need that gorgeous body on set." He lifts up your chin with a finger, taunting you.

Vox moves you behind him before putting his arm around Val, his voice distorting a bit, "Val Val Val..." He chuckled, "You can have any other woman we can reach." They start walking a little bit out of ear shot for you. "I want this one. Got it?" He flashed his hyponitizing eye into his unaffected fellow overlord.

Valentino rolled his eyes and raises his hands up in defeat, "Fine. Fine. Take her." He scoffs, "But as soon as she's gone from your hands. She'll be mine." He chuckled.

"Fucking asshole." You hissed under your breath, secretly hoping he didn't hear it because you're kinda scared of him.

"Well, well. Nice to finally meet you." Vox pivots on his heel to face you, "I'm sure you've heard of me, HA! Who hasn't? The name's Vox." He extends his hand out to you, "And you, my dear, are?"

You take his hand to shake it, "I'm Y/N. I've been watching your work ever since I fell into hell and I've been doing my absolute best to finally get a chance to speak with you! I have so much to say and every time I try to get a meeting set up and-" You rambled before getting cut off by Vox pulling you closer to him as he grinned in delight. "My my. You have a lot to say there, doll. Why don't we go into my office so we can have a real meeting."

You get a bit flustered with your blabbering. "Ah. Yes. Apologies. I was just-" You take a deep breath, "Thank you. For saving me back there."

Vox chuckles a bit and teleports the two of you into his office, leaning into his folded hands. You felt the static all over your skin, your hair floating a bit in certain parts. He walks around his desk and plops down on his chair. You fix yourself up and sit across from him.

"So, Y/N, what were you saying earlier?"

"I want to be yours." You blurt out. Vox blinks, his smile faltered a bit.

"Excuse me?"

"I MEAN-" You clear your throat, "I want to be your assistant. I want to work for you. Under you. I am not afraid to get my hands dirty if it means you rise up in strength as the overlord of this city." If there was anything you can do right, it's killing. And blurting out the wrong things.

Vox chuckled in amusement, "Alright dollface, let's see what you can do." He grins, holding his hand out for you to shake. You shake it with eager delight. ------------------ It's been almost a year since you've begun your work as Vox's personal assistant and it's safe to say that his admiration for you grew over time. You were now next to him at all times. Even though you were his assistant, he was at you beck and call. You honestly didn't expect this behavior out of the powerful demon, but you weren't entirely opposed to it.

"Y/N. Pull up the statistics for the lowest earners this month." Vox states, stress oozing out of his words.

"Yes sir." You nod, directly transporting what he had asked for into the screen in front of him.

"I told you to call me Vox." He groans before cracking his neck, flicking through the screen to note down the employees that haven't met anywhere near the required quota. You take note his stiffness, specifically in his left shoulder. 'He must be working overnight again.' You thought to yourself.

You walk up behind him, gently massaging his shoulders. He flinches slightly from the sudden physical contact. "Wh-what are you doing?" He glitched a bit, hoping you didn't catch that.

"You stayed up overnight again, didn't you?" You sigh, "Sir, you need to take better care of yourself. You may be a powerful overlord but your wits will lose its touch if you don't get the proper rest you need." You work your fingers to massage the knot out of his shoulders as he slowly melted into you touch.

He groans a bit in pleasure, "I-" He started to protest but cut him off before deciding not too. "Whatever. Work your magic. You're good at that with me." He leans further back into his seat as he shuts his eyes, giving into your massage, "And call me Vox!"

You smile, looking down at him, "If you insist," You lean down, whispering into the side of his head, presumably where his ears would be, "Vox."

He was lost in your massage before the sound of his name slips out of your lips, causing his eyes to dart open. "You said my na-" He froze as soon as he turned to face you. Your face was so close to his screen. His face lit up as he slowly starting to buffer.

You grinned at his flustered state, "Sorry. Too close?" You pull yourself back and finally got that knot out of his shoulder. "How come you only have that stubborn knot on your left side?" You thought it strange that it was only on the left. You moved your hands off of the frozen overlord in front of you before shifting over to where he was facing, lightly tapping on his screen.

The taps got him out of his buffered state. He was flustered with you catching him so off guard like that. "No." He coughed, "Just caught me off guard is all." He brings back his signature grin as he looked up at you. "Now what was that question again? Something about a side?"

You roll your eyes, "Your shoulder. The knot I got out was only on the left side. What in the seven rings could you be doing with just that side of you? You arm wrestle Velvette or something?" You state, "You know, I did try that once. She beat me with such ease I never dared to try it again. Valentino just kept trying to lick my arm."

You continued to ramble as he sat and realized why. You haven't left his mind, or his screens, for the last couple of months. He couldn't tell you he's been busy jacking it off to the thought of you sharing his bed with him every night. He couldn't tell you that he wished you were there every time he woke up.

"Ahhh. Yeah! Yeah. Such a bitch to beat." He laughs nervously before quickly getting up, "Well enough of that. Thank you, doll, for the massage. Now, it's almost been a year since you've been by my side and I believe I owe you a treat." He smiled brightly, taking your hand in his, "How about we both the rest of the day off? Let me treat you to a nice restaurant as a...thanks. For your hard work."

Your fingers tapped against the back of his hand, "So...like a date?"

And he glitches again, "No! I mean-pff-what. Nahhhh. That's not-" He stutters, "No! No. I would never-"

His instant denial made your head, and heart, drop a bit in disappointment. You've grown to like him, more than just a close friend and ally. It seems that he took notice of your disappointment as he stopped his ranting to lift your chin up with his free hand.

"Look, just. Get ready. Look pretty! Get Velvette to help you with an outfit if need be. Tell her I sent you. And meet me outside in an hour." He reassures you, "I have quite the surprise for you, Y/N. You know I never disappoint."

"Okay, Vox." You manage a smile, holding his hand tighter. "I'll see you in an hour." You walk towards the door and head straight to Velvette.

Vox puts on his best suit and bowtie. Not allowing a single piece of garment out of place. He waited by the entrance of his building a little bit earlier than the discussed time, eagerly waiting your arrival. Before he knew it he was swamped with reporters, bombarding him with questions regarding the change in the extermination date. He easily answers the questions with his idea of "VoxTek Angelic Security" or so he calls it. He totally just pulled that one out of his ass. He hypnotized the crowd to keep them at bay. As soon as he did, you exit the nearest elevator.

He turned at the sound of heels clacking behind him. You wore a beautiful black dress with red accents that wrapped around your body nicely, hugging your every curve. The drop of your dress went a little bit too low for your liking, straight down from your chest to under your bust, but Velvette insisted that the fashion tape she put on it will prevent any accidental spillage. A slit that revealed the red and blue garter you wore on your thigh that resembled cables. Your hair was curled, half up and half down, falling nicely on your shoulders. On your ears were jewelry that matched the antennas on his signature hat.

The sight of you took all the air out of him, you were stunning in his eyes. "My..." He mumbled to himself as he walks towards you. "You look..."

"Silly, right? I told Velvette she didn't have to go all out. That I was just going out for a meeting with you to celebrate our first year working together." You sigh, looking up at him with a worried look, "If you don't like it, I can quickly change."

Vox couldn't help but snake his hand around your waist, "You look stunning." He grinned, "I can't wait to walk into the finest restaurant in Pentagram City with you by my side." He led you out into the limo waiting, "You're going to break necks with how fast they're going to turn at the sight of you, Y/N."

You blush a bit at his flattery, the makeup you wore barely hiding it. He held the door open for you. You thanked him as you sat inside.

The whole ride there was a test of self-control for Vox. He wanted to hold you in his arms. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, so much so that he swears you could hear it at this point.

You peek out the windows next to Vox. You thought the lights were beautiful, nothing like what they have on Earth. You were captivated by the lights and he took quick notice of you shifting. You scoot closer to him, trying to get a closer look out the window on his side. "The lights are wonderful here, Vox." You smile, taking in the sights.

You place a hand on his thigh, causing him to blush intensely, leaning over him. "If I were to ask you of anything, I'd love to have neon lights in my room." You look up at him, "If you permit it."

He gave himself a mental pat on the back with how quickly he composed himself. Vox places a hand around your waist, "I will give you anything in my power at your asking." He hypes himself up to finally ask you out to be more than just his secretary. More than just his friend. "If you permit, will you consider this as my first attempt in courting you, dear?"

Your face quickly turned red at the sudden turn on events. You lean back, taking your hand off of his thigh. You attempted to back up but his firm grip on your waist stops you, if anything, he pulls you close to his chest. You blinked at him in disbelief, "I-Of course. I shall. I'm honored at to have your attention."

"Love, you've caught my attention since you arrived in hell." He confessed. Before he could continue, the ride slows to a stop as you both arrive at your destination. "Now, shall we?"

You step out of the limo, hand in Vox's as he assists you, careful to not allow you to trip. "I've gotten us our own private dining room here. Somewhere we can speak freely without anybody listening in on our conversation." He leads you into the restaurant, his words earlier still replaying in your head. 'Is this really a date? A date with Vox?' You thought to yourself.

He pulls out the chair for you before seating himself. He sits across from you, propping up his head on the table with his hand. He chugs the bottle of rum on your table to ease his nerves. A couple gulps in, he was ready to talk. "May I confess something to you, Y/N?" He smiles.

"Yes. Of course. Anything, Vox."

"You drive me crazy." He starts, "You're double drop dead gorgeous. If anything is an honor, it's to have you here in hell as my date. These last few months have been my equivalent of heaven."

You fluster at his words, turning red at the compliments. "Y/N, if I may be so bold. I have fallen for you. You're in my mind, always. Your gaze recharges me as much as it short circuits my system."

He gets up to move his chair right next to you, "My dear, I know I just said for you to consider this as me courting you." He holds your hand in his, "But if I'm going to be honest, I don't think I'd be able to handle keeping my hands off of you for tonight. You're absolutely breathtaking."

In response, you finish off what was left in the bottle he drank out off to ease your nerves. The alcohol flushed your face more than it already was from his confession. "Vox. May I be so bold as to speak my truth in return?"

He gulps down his nerves, a bit on edge. "Yes. You know you're always allowed to speak your mind around me."

"Pardon me, then."

"Pardon you for wh-"

You throw yourself on him, kissing him with passion. His hands instinctively wrap around your waist, closing the gap in between your bodies. You shift to sit on his lap, lacking the shame a normal person, probably not in hell, would have in a high rated restaurant. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him. You feel his tongue enter your mouth, taking control of yours. He relished your taste. What felt like hours in each others' hold, you finally pull away for air. You gasp and pant, looking into his eyes.

"I've worked as hard as I did, climbed the ranks and dirtied my hands to catch your attention the moment I learned of you. I absolutely adore your mind. Working with you solidified that." You smile sweetly at him, enjoying the shock in his eyes. "I'd love for you to keep your hands on me all night." You winked, "Take that how you will."

You hop off of him, returning to your seat. You sigh contently, holding his hand in yours.

"3..." You count down. Sparks fly from the back of his head.

"2..." You turn to him, his screen was flashing all types of errors now.

"And 1."

His excitement, shock and happiness absolutely drained the city of its power. You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder, waiting for him and the city to properly boot back up. If he unfortunately forgets, you'll just repeat it again for him to remember.

[elsblunt]

ellie williams | soft hc’s.

— when ur gf is the most cocky but sweet girl. headcannons

warnings black femme reader , masc ellie , smoking , ellie being protective , college ellie , fingering (e rec)

౨ৎ ellie williams will always be the girl to be honest about your friends, not being shy to tell u they might be total bitches, the sweetest people, or totally wanting to fuck u. also will be the judgiest person, glancing at somebody random in the club and looking to u, hoping ur thinking the same thing. (u always are.)

౨ৎ passing the blunt back and forth with u, small giggles falling from ur lips when u see her using ur pink sparkly lighter. she specifically has pink paper for u.

౨ৎ also before u started dating, she would use those pink rolls for the girls she thought was the prettiest. once she saw u, she bought them specifically for u and only u.

౨ৎ giving u the cutest high eyes ever when u stand up, walking in ur small white panties and a pink lacy bra she picked out as u look in the fridge and pantry wanting something to munch on. her eyes scan ur body, ur smooth skin, ur bonnet, ur ass.. ur boobs..

“els, do we have any kettle chips? the salt and vinegar ones?” u click ur tongue, sighing as u scrounge through the bags and boxes of food in her cabinets. u soon notice she isn’t answering, only hearing small breaths and inhales she takes from the blunt.

“ellie?” u furrows ur brows, turning around. when u notice why she wasn’t answering, u scoff and grab a soft bag of some food, throwing it at her.

“babe!!” she whines, throwing the food back at u lazily.

“fuckin perv! now where are my damn chips?”

౨ৎ always the one to cheer u up during ur finals. u sat between her thighs as she helps u study, calling out random questions on a notecard she probably doesn’t even know the answer to.

౨ৎ will also be the one to hold u when u cry from stress, wiping ur tears and reassuring u.

౨ৎ she practices doing ur hair. and when u trust her not to tangle it or mess it up, she places little bows in ur hair, small braids scattered throughout ur curls, hands wet with hair product. and when she’s done, she shows u in the mirror, the proudest smile on her face as ur lips tug to a smile, kissing her cheek and telling her how good she did. (even if she didn’t.)

౨ৎ now when u try to put pink ribbons in her hair, she will run away, like a cat in water. “babe, i’m not putting fucking pink bows in my hair! im not trying to look like jojo siwa!” u pout and eventually convince her, smiling brightly as u squeal and give her a half up half down, holding it together with a ribbon. she doesn’t wanna admit it, but she loves to.

౨ৎ speaking of cats, u both definitely have a cat. it’s either a orange cat or a black cat.

౨ৎ at the club, she always has eyes on u. but sometimes she doesn’t, accidentally looking over to her friend and laughing, drinking away as she waits for you to be back from the bathroom. when she looks back though, she will defend and protect u with her life if she sees somebody bothering u.

u couldn’t even make it back from the bathroom before a man comes up to u, flirting with u. “i’m sorry, but im not interested.” u try to walk away, but his cold hand grips on ur exposed waist.

“didnt i just say i wasn’t interested? or are u just deaf? i have a girlfriend.”

he scoffs, not taking u seriously as he puts his other hand on ur body, making u flinch and step back, removing his hands.

“ehh, u just haven’t met the right man yet, i can show u..” he grins sneakily, making ur face scrunch up with disgust, body tensing.

before ur able to do anything, ellie pops up next to you, placing a kiss on ur cheek, hand rubbing the small of ur back.

“hey baby, we got a problem?” she chuckles dryly, only glancing at the man for a second, looking him up and down with a judgmental look plastered across her face.

he walked away real quick.

౨ৎ ellie will ramble about comics, space, and dinosaurs as much as she can. drawing shapes on ur thigh with ur finger as she speaks softly. where the fuck did she get these facts from?

౨ৎ always holding ur bags when u shop, handing u her credit card if u mention u like something online. u returning the favor by buying her things u think she would like, as much as she says she doesn’t need it. buying her small gifts 24/7, her doing the same. you were basically each others sugar mommy’s.

౨ৎ defends u no matter what in every argument or situation, ur always right.

౨ৎ let’s just say, when ur drunk out of ur mind at a party, dancing on tables and twerking on all ur friends. she will be the one to pick u up bridal style, throwing ur drunk ass into the uber while u sing stunna girl horribly.

౨ৎ neediest fucking girl in the world, because of her masc look people are convinced she tops. but once you touch the waistband of ellie’s boxers, her breath hitches and her hips roll softly, personality changing. “baby, please..”

౨ৎ either moans so loudly when u fuck her or is quiet, grunting and breathing heavily, tiny whimpers falling past her puffy lips.

౨ৎ when ur fingers plunge into her pussy, curling in the right spot and sucking her clit. her back arches and her nose touches the pillow under her head, trembling and playing with her nipple. “fu-fuckkkk! so fuckin’ good…” she groans, other hand holding ur head, trying to push u closer as u snicker at her.

౨ৎ will litter ur body in kisses during and after sex.

౨ৎ best at aftercare, always making sure ur cleaned up and taken care of.

౨ৎ ellie’s the best girlfriend, and if u ever try to break up with her, trust she will still text u in her 30’s.

i used to write wattpad stories so this is the best i got…

[lovebugism]

for fictober could I request from the 50 autumnal prompts ‘when he wears THAT flannel’ with Eddie please?

we were so robbed of Eddie all boyfriend in soft cosy clothes. R wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off of him and he’d love it come autumn when it’s all he wears.

ugh imagine him in like thick baggy sweaters and when he reaches up it just exposes a bit of tummy 😍 I’m like a Victorian seeing ankles

love you xoxo

hi angel! idk how i managed to make this angsty, but alas! hope you like it :D

summary: you and eddie try to get used to life post-vecna but it's not nearly as easy as you thought it'd be (post st4, established relationship, wee bit of angst tw for mentions of death and scars, 1.2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s pretty much recovered by mid-fall.

Not totally. But mostly.

You think getting away from Hawkins helped the most — moving out of the city and settling further in the green. Even though everyone back home eventually understood that Eddie wasn’t the psycho-killing freak they made him out to be, things had changed far too much to ever go back to normal again.

Something’s break beyond repair. Something’s just can’t be fixed.

Not your Eddie, though. Eddie’s perfect. Damn near it, anyway, considering the circumstances.

He’s still got the nightmares and the phantom pains — even though he tells you he doesn’t. But he’s graduated now and helping Wayne at the car shop whenever he can. He’s taking the newfound normalcy in stride, spending early autumn with you and making you hot chocolate like nothing ever happened.

“You like marshmallows in your cocoa, right?” he calls from the kitchen, though he sounds like he’s talking mostly to himself.

You hear him, but you forget to answer. Your brain all but short circuits at how pretty he looks. 

You eye him from the couch while he bustles in the kitchen, and gutwrenching existentialism knocks the wind from your lungs like a fist to the stomach. 

You weren’t supposed to have Eddie again. You weren’t supposed to share a home like you always dreamed about, and he wasn’t supposed to make you hot cocoa or keep you warm when autumn got too bitter. 

A season or more ago, you were saying your goodbyes while he bled out in an alternate dimension. 

You haven’t yet forgotten how pale his skin had gotten or how glassy his chocolate eyes grew as the life spilled from the weeping bites on his stomach. The feeling of his blood, slimy on your hands and drenching your clothes, hasn’t yet left you. The red-hot blood in the unnatural navy blue cold still lives in your head.

But it’s only there. In your head.

And Eddie’s right in front of you — wild hair, baggy pajama pants, and all. You can smell the musk of his cologne and the floral of his shampoo. He’s real enough to touch. 

He’s real.

The realization hits you every day, all the time. It wells from your chest up into your throat and makes you feel like crying. Most people don’t get to say goodbye to their soulmate and eat Wednesday morning breakfast with them months later. 

You’ve got so much gratitude inside you, bursting like golden rays of sunshine, that you don’t know what to do with it all.

“Babe?” he calls again when you don’t answer. “Did you hear me?”

He pokes his head in the doorway, and your eyes go wide. “Huh? What?” you stammer, shaking your head to jerk yourself out of your stupor.

Eddie laughs, high and boyish. It sounds like heaven, and it pierces your heart. Six months ago, you never thought you’d hear it again. “I asked if you wanted marshmallows, weirdo.”

You nod rapidly and ramble an answer. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Thank you.”

“O-kay,” Eddie lilts, though his voice wavers with confusion. His grin widens and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t ask why you’re acting so suddenly strange. 

You wonder if he’s used to it by now. You wonder if he knows when you go quiet that you’re remembering that a part of you nearly died.

He returns to the kitchen and reaches for the upper cupboard. A sliver of his milky white tummy peeks from beneath his flannel. You can see the bites from here. They’re scarred over now, dark red and light pink and thunder-strike purple. It almost jars you how healed they look. The wounds are still fresh and weeping whenever you close your eyes.

Eddie comes in from the living room, balancing two mugs in his hands rather carefully because he’s filled them to the brim. He’s got his usual ceramic Campbell’s Tomato Soup cup in one hand and your sleeping Snoopy in the other. The innate domesticity makes your stomach whirl.

“You okay?” the boy wonders with pinched brows when he hands you your cocoa.

You nod with glittering eyes, mustering a faint smile up at him. The mug warms your chilled, trembling hands. 

“Mm-hmm… Why?” you question, though you’re more than aware of why. 

Eddie’s got a knack for knowing how you’re feeling before you’ve even hinted at it. You think he might’ve got mind-reading powers when you were in the Upside Down.

“I don’t know. You just looked a little… far away, I guess.”

“Just missed you,” you confess with a bright, innocent gaze.

Eddie snorts as he rounds the couch to sit next to you. “While I was in the kitchen ten feet away?”

“Yeah. ’S way too far.”

“Well, remind me to carry you with me wherever I go, then.”

You know he’s joking, but you beam anyway. You don’t want to be anywhere that he isn’t. You don’t want him to go where you can’t follow. 

Eddie takes a sip and smiles at your smiling. His grin is crooked and rosy and lined with whipped cream. He leans in to kiss you with it. 

You pull back from him, just far enough to wipe the melted sugar off with the pad of your thumb. You give him a smacking peck a second later.

With a kissed grin, the boy leans back against the couch with his arm sprawled along the back of it. You curl into his side like his own personal puzzle piece, nestling your mug between your bodies with one hand and settling your free one on his stomach.

Your fingers seem to gravitate beneath his fuzzy flannel without you having to think twice about it. 

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, either. His attention is consumed by the television — a Scooby Doo re-run he’s probably seen a thousand times. His chuckle rumbles against your cheek. You laugh along with him, made content by the sound of his boyish delight.

Your fingers dance through the fuzz of his happy trail, then settle on something softer. 

The marred skin of his warm tummy feels like silk. Before you realize what you’re touching, the boy beneath you jolts.

You nearly spill your cooling cocoa when you freeze alongside him. You part from Eddie with a gaping gaze, wide eyes darting over every inch of his face. You’re frightened that you’ve hurt him, but his pink grin only widens.

“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” you blurt. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Eddie turns to you, then. His features are blurry with sleep, and they twist with confusion at your misplaced concern. 

“No,” he answers with the shake of his head. The softened ends of his chocolate curls brush your cheek. A laugh sputters from his mouth. “It just tickled, babe. It’s fine.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It wavers on the way out, but you manage a trembling smile anyway. “Oh. Okay,” you hum, breathless. 

“Yeah. ’S okay,” Eddie murmurs softly back, wrapping his pale arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and lingers there. “I’m okay,” he whispers into your hair.

[hypernova-writes]

Could you do headcanons for scout x a nurse reader? could be nsfw or not I just think it's a cute concept👉👈

A/n: ASK AND THOU SHALL RECEIVEEEEEEE I love scout so much, that’s my baby, that’s my man fr. Also I was listening to this song while writing these, and I MAY have thought of a fic for this concept- I fear i may be delusional for him..

Scout with a Nurse!S/O

Can we HELLLOOOOO NURSE. (..sry..)

But no for real, He gets his own personal nurse, and they love him? Oh yea sign him up!

Definitely rubs it in the face of the other mercs, who have to deal with Medic while he walks down to your room.

“Ha! Screw yall chuckleheads! My baby’s gon’ take care of me!”

He’ll come to you with the simplest of paper cut acting like he’s gonna DIE if he doesn’t receive a kiss from his baby.

If you follow him up in his antics, it’ll just make him fall deep in love with you. Kiss his cheek, kiss his hands after you change the bandages, tell him how much of a good boy he’s being for you. He’ll be a puddle in your hands.

Definitely likes to steal the treats you have set out for the other mercs. Like SEVERAL times you have caught him sneaking treats from the bowl you had set out.

“Scout, baby. I can see you, ya know..”

“Huh? I don’t know what you could possibly mean babes~”

Loves sitting in your office while you do work, he’ll keep you company with his rambling and if you give him something to do or organize he’ll do the best that he can!

He thinks you look oh so cute in your uniform! Often finds himself hugging you from behind, he smiles, just loving how you feel in his arms.

It makes him wanna just bend you over your desk~ (NSFW Under the cut)

Speaking of bending you over your desk—

He has done it multiple times, especially if you’re giving him those bedroom eyes when he comes in for a check up. Oh yea, drop them panties, bend that sweet ass over, he needs some sweet lovin’ from his nurse.

He’s careful not to leave bruises, but he can’t help it, your hips feel nice in his hands, he loves having something to grab on while he’s rutting into you like his life depends on it.

Won’t admit it out loud, but is totally into the nurse patient role play, and has asked you to do it several times already.

“C’mon sweet cheeks..aintcha gonna heal ya mans?..i got something between my legs that need your touch”

Loves, Loves, quickies in the clinic, he likes seeing how fast he could make you cum before you have to go back to attending to the other mercs to help medic out.

He often teases you for how funny you walk afterwards, which usually bites him in the ass when the two of you are alone.

Using spare bandages to tie his hands behind his back, and covering his eyes, you give him a special ‘checkup’ that has him turn into the moaning and whimpering mess.

He is a total simp for you..like end of story.

That man ain’t going no where, and even if you try to, he’ll find his way back to his baby.

[archangeldyke-all]

My brain rot is going CRAZYYYYY

Sevika with scientist reader? And she’ll just blurt out random ass facts about Sev anatomy? Especially during sex.

hahahahahah i love this

men and minors dni

you've got her underneath you, two of your fingers in her cunt as she shakes. "you're so fuckin' pretty, sev, i love you so much." you whisper.

sevika whimpers.

then. "did you know a vagina's acidity is the same as most tomatoes? they both have an average pH of 4.5..." you trail off, ducking down to kiss a path down sevika's chest.

she bursts into laughter, pushing you away from her. you blink up at her, confused. "what?!" she asks, still giggling.

"what?"

"'s this your way of tellin' me my cunt smells like ketchup or somethin'?" she asks. you snort.

"no!" you laugh. "no, sorry, i just-- i just learned that yesterday." you say, embarrassed.

sevika giggles and pulls you back on top of her body. "you're cute. but... maybe pick a sexier vegetable to talk about it bed next time. like eggplant..."

"techinically tomatoes are fruits--"

"for fuck's sake babe!" she laughs.

it happens more often than you'd expect. you've got two real passions in life: your passion for biology and your passion for sevika. it's not surprising to you that when you're rambling about one, the other sometimes slips out too.

like when you guys are scrolling through a sex-shop online, half shopping, half making out. sevika hovers the cursor over a unique dildo, named 'unicorn's horn.' it's got columns spiraling up the shaft in pastel colors, the head rounded off. she chuckles. "could feel good..." she considers. "'s seven inches..."

"you know, ducks actually have corkscrew penises, similar to this. though, theirs are only one of these columns."

sevika bursts into laughter, then opens a new tab. "hold on, i gotta see this..." she mumbles as she starts typing 'duck dick' in the search bar.

or when sevika's kissing her way down your abdomen, heading straight for your cunt, and you lean back against the pillows, slide your hands in her hair, and speak.

she's expecting something romantic.

she isn't expecting: "do you know that some species of bats have been observed giving their partners cunnilingus? scientists think they're trying to lick competing sperm out of the female bat."

she just groans. "baby... please say something sexy so i can go down on you without that image in my head."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676