#i’m making myself cry damnit

[socalledsomethingorother]

thinkin about katsuki.

one of the very first things we learn about him is that he wants to be the number one hero. that’s something we are constantly reminded of throughout the series.

katsuki learns that there’s one major thing standing in the way between him and that goal—his attitude. it starts with him failing the licensing exam and continues as he turns into a hero who is still flawed, but actually wants to do good. he learned his lesson and became a better person towards himself, towards izuku, and towards everyone else.

so i refuse to believe that katsuki yelling at a civilian is just kacchan being kacchan with his abrasive attitude. katsuki knows better—he’s 25 years old now. aizawa says that this isn’t the first time he’s slipped in the charts because of this behavior. why doesn’t he care about his reputation? he grew up idolizing all might, damnit. he knows how important public opinion is when it comes to being number one. why. doesn’t. he. care?

because izuku wasn’t a pro hero yet. what’s the point of being number one when it doesn’t mean surpassing izuku? what’s the point of being number one if it doesn’t mean constantly trying to one-up his rival?

watching katsuki grow up meant watching “i’m gonna be the richest hero of all time and everyone will know my name” turn into “i thought i’d be on your heels—that we’d be competing against each other for the rest of our lives.”

somewhere along the lines, standing side by side with izuku became more important than fame, and helping izuku live his dream became more important than money.

if that’s not love, i don’t know what is.

[gali-la]

Damnit why is it always at the busiest time in a fandom I get lured into another one. I HAVE NO TIME MANAGEMENT SKILLS I CANT BALANCE THEM

Fuckin. Swear to god if I didn’t love one piece so much I’d be back to my multi fandom slut ways. Unbearable. Unbelievable.

[froggiewrites]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You spend the night crying into your drinks about how much you want Sanji, and how much it hurts he's in love with someone else. Sanji spends the night crying about much the same. Your friends get sick of it, and decide to help the idiots realize what everyone else already knows. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Sanji and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 4.1k

You are going to get drunk tonight. Plastered, even.

Another day, another victory, another adventure spent staring longingly at Sanji when you were sure he wasn’t looking. You could usually handle the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick puppy for a man you knew didn’t feel the same, but something about today really set you off. Maybe it was the way he so sweetly called Nami’s name when you all reunited, or the way he so carefully prepared Robin her favorite drinks, or some other transgression you can’t quite remember. You don’t know exactly what it was, but you know you’re irritated and hurt and a little heartbroken, and there’s about a half a dozen drinks with your name on them behind the bar.

The tavern is lively and loud, and the rest of the crew is clearly having a good time. Your eyes briefly linger on Sanji at the bar, but you try to force your eyes away. No point in lingering here, yearning for something you can’t have. You instead make your way to the back of the room, wedging yourself between Zoro and Robin, who seem to be drinking in silence together.

You had intended on sharing in the peaceful silence, broken only by some quiet comments and gentle chuckles, but three drinks in you can see them side-eyeing you, brows furrowed.

“What?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant it to, but you’re a bit too drunk to care.

“Just surprised you’re drinking so much, is all. You normally pace yourself more than this.” Robin’s voice is quiet and controlled, as though she’s just making a passive observation, but you know your friends and you know she is deeply worried about you.

“I had a bad day.”

“Really? You seemed fine earlier.” Zoro sounds genuinely surprised. Robin shoots him a look you can’t read, and he quickly shuts his mouth.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain someone?” Her voice is kind, so kind, but it makes you clench your jaw anyway.

“No.”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

Zoro mutters, “Oh, god damnit,” before taking another stiff pull of his drink.

“What happened, exactly? You both seemed perfectly friendly this morning.”

“I don’t…know. Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and now I’m all twisted into knots and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well maybe you can start by telling us how you feel, and we can try to help you unravel all of this.”

“We?”

You both ignore Zoro’s confusion and indignation. “Maybe…if you think it will help.” You close your eyes, grounding yourself, and focusing wholly inward. “I just think I’m…tired of wanting things I can’t have. It’s really hard to be on a ship full of people living their dreams, fighting for everything they desire, and I’m here, feeling like I have to constantly hold so tight I feel like my fingers will break or else it’ll all slip through my fingers.”

“And do you feel like you’re holding onto Sanji?”

“Not just him, I guess. To everything. To all of you. But I’m trying to let myself believe that all of this is what I want, and that it’s going to be forever, and then I see him smile at someone else and the illusion just…shatters. I’m not happy. And I know damn well it won’t last forever. I feel like I’m stuck waiting for an inevitable ending that I’ll never be satisfied with. Right now, I’m in limbo, and I can keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt, but every time I think about how hopeless I feel with him it kind of reminds me of how hopeless it all is.”

You put your head in your hands for a moment, taking a deep breath. “And it’s not only about him, right? It’s just kind of a general dissatisfaction with where I am compared to you guys. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t more about Sanji than it isn’t. He’s both, like, a symbol of it and the source of it. He’s the thing I want most, and he’s the thing I know I’m never going to have.”

“Why do you think you’ll never have him?”

“Because he’s in love with Nami.” You say it like it’s obvious.

Zoro is glaring at his drink, still wondering how he got roped into this conversation and praying you stop, while Robin gives you a gentle look resembling sympathy. There's something behind her eyes though, something you can't read, that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"It's one thing, to have your love unrequited. For the man you're in love with to be hopelessly smitten with someone else. But god, it's another for him to be right."

"Right?" Robin's voice doesn't betray anything as she keeps her tone to a careful academic neutrality.

"It's just...she is that wonderful. I can't be upset about it because I can't blame either of them. She's beautiful and kind and capable and he's...well. He's everything. It just makes sense. It's somehow harder not to be bitter because I really don't have anything to be bitter about, if that makes sense."

"It would make sense if anything you said was true." Zoro's voice is gruff,  and you look to him in surprise, only to find his expression mirroring your own, as though he can't believe he opened his mouth. "He sucks, and she's great and all but she's no angel. And they aren't in love anyway so I don't understand what the problem even is." You think he's trying to help. Sweet, if ineffective.

"He's in love with her. He has been since the day they met. You know that, you were there."

"That isn't love. He's just a horny idiot."

"He's not an idiot." You hate how defensive your tone gets, how pathetic it makes you feel. You hate even more that Zoro and Robin both look at you with undisguised pity.

"I think what Zoro is trying to say is that you seem to think his feelings for Nami go a lot deeper than they do. They're just friends. He just speaks to all women like that."

"Not me."

You all hate the silence that follows.

"He hits on you too." Zoro's voice is a little weaker than before, knowing his argument isn't exactly rock solid. He's kind to you, complimentary, but he's never rushed into battle alone to save you. He's never ridden in on a blazing white steed for you, not like he has Robin or Nami. And sure, you've never been kidnapped like them, but it's hard not to feel the difference when Mr Prince himself has never played his part with you. He's kind to you, so very kind, but he's kind to everyone. That's just who he is.

“You know it isn’t the same, Zoro. It’s always Nami first. It always has been. He talks to me the same way he would any woman. Less than that, even.” You start tearing up despite yourself, and you hope your friends will blame your fragility on your drink and not your tender heart. “He just…he doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t fall at my feet, and it’s not like I want him to but…” You break into a quiet sob, and Robin’s hand comes to your shoulder, rubbing calming circles there.

Zoro leans in a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but worried and kind nonetheless. “That stupid cook cares about you a lot more than any stranger on the street, and I think you know that. He’s just an idiot.” You look up at him, confused, and Zoro tries not to let out an annoyed sigh at your obliviousness. It isn’t entirely your fault. Who could blame you for thinking what you did? It’s not like Sanji helped with that. He didn’t give you the dramatic love confessions he did Nami or Robin. Nami had asked him once why he sang your praises differently than he did theirs, and he had insisted that he would give you only the grandest speeches, once he had prepared words worthy of you. The rest of the crew quickly figured out what he really meant: he was too nervous to say such a thing when he really meant it.  He would instead tuck his love into the food and drinks he served you, into the jacket he placed over your shoulders when you were cold, into the gentle smiles he gave you when you weren’t looking. Everyone had agreed not to push him before he was ready, to let you both find your way to each other naturally, but it was becoming apparent this was the wrong move.

You keep crying into your glass, and Zoro sighs. You’re both ridiculous. What a pair.

Across the bar, Usopp lets out his fiftieth sigh of the night. He has no idea how he got roped into this. Sanji is somewhere between sorrow and rage, buried in a pile of empty glasses that reek of beer. He's been going on for at least fifteen minutes now, and if Usopp had even slightly less of a conscience he'd leave him here to wallow, considering his problem is entirely self-inflicted. But unfortunately, Usopp is a great friend, so instead he bravely sits on this barstool, a listening ear to make sure Sanji's drowning his troubles doesn't end in Sanji himself drowning after he stumbles his way home alone.

"It's not right." Sanji's voice is shaky with emotion, even with his words slurred.

Usopp sighs, pretending he hasn't heard this exact line of conversation three times tonight. "What's not right, buddy?"

"He doesn't...he doesn't deserve her. He isn't good enough for her. That stupid swordsman...what does she see in him?" He takes another swig of his drink, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his shoulders. "He's just...he's not even nice to her. Not like he should be."

"He's being nice to her right now." Usopp motions over to where you're having your own pity party, one Zoro seems to have become an unwilling guest of. Robin is patting your shoulder in sympathy, while Zoro leans closer to say something to you, care and concern obvious on his face to those who knew him.

"But he should worship her. Everyone should. She's...she's..." Sanji drunkenly trails off.

"An angel?"

"A goddess." Despite the glaze over his eyes, his conviction shines though, granting him a focus he hasn't had all night as he gazes at her. "Someone to be cherished, protected, adored. He doesn't adore her. He should be on his knees right now begging for her attention, and he's just...talking to her. Like he would anybody."

"Probably because they're friends."

"But look at her. She clearly wants more than that. She should get whatever she wants. On a silver platter." Sanji really emphasizes that last part, lips pouting and brow tightening. Usopp looks over again to see you about to cry into your drink, leaning further into Robin. You aren't even looking at Zoro right now, but Sanji is still burning with envy. Usopp would love to set him straight, tell him that anyone with eyes could see who's attention you really wanted, but he knows you'd kill him, and he quite likes being alive. Sanji's so filled with malice and self loathing right now that he probably wouldn't even believe him, anyway. For a man so delusional about love, he somehow can’t see it when it’s right in front of him.

“I think you’re a little lost here, Sanji. She’s not in love with Zoro. She’s just drunk and sad. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He keeps that last part under his breath, and Sanji is drunk enough not to have heard it. Instead he frowns, taking another swig of his drink before trying to stand and falling directly into the counter. Your head pops up across the room, eyes wide and concerned, ready to leap to Sanji’s rescue. It’s amazing how blind that man must be to not see how obsessed with him you are. Usopp waves you off before hooking his hands under Sanji’s armpits and hauling him up. “Time to go, loverboy. You’ve had enough.”

“But she needs me!” Sanji struggles, but he’s so drunk he can’t properly utilize his strength. Lucky, or he’d already be halfway across the room to make an ass of himself. Usopp notices a small trickle of blood on his forehead from where he made contact with the bar.

“She’s fine, I promise. But you need to take a trip to see Chopper.”

“I need to help her! I can’t leave a lady in distress!”

“The lady will be in a lot more distress if she sees you’re hurt, Sanji! So get moving!” Usopp starts dragging him unceremoniously from the tavern, praying Franky will still be awake when he gets back to the ship to help him maneuver Sanji into his cot. Sanji passes out about halfway back to the Sunny, mercifully. Usopp hopes Robin and Zoro are having a better time with their other drunken crewmate.

You wake up with a pounding headache and the worst case of dry-mouth you’ve ever experienced. Your eyes just barely crack open, letting in a blinding ray of light, and you let out a small groan of pain. There’s a large glass of water by your bedside and some pills, as well as a small note from Chopper telling you to meet him in the infirmary once you feel up to walking. You chug the water and take your medicine gladly, touched by the sweet gesture. Your crew takes such good care of you.

It takes a while for the medicine to kick in enough for the light to stop hurting, but eventually you’re able to stand. You can’t remember the latter half of last night, your last memory being Sanji slamming his head into the counter while Robin and Zoro held you back from running to him. Zoro had supplied you with another drink then, and Robin had asked you more probing questions, but you could not for the life of you remember any other specifics. You make your way to Chopper’s infirmary so lost in thought you didn’t notice the mischievous looks in the eyes of your crewmates, the way their gazes subtly followed you as you walked.

“Chopper?” Your voice is still a little hoarse from having cried your heart out last night. You slip through the door, expecting to find your dear doctor ready to fuss over you and scold you for overdoing it last night. Instead you find Sanji face first in a bed, a small bandage wrapped around his head. Before you can ask if he’s alright, or if he knows where Chopper is, you hear it.

Click.

Your eyes widen. Your hand reaches for the doorknob, ready to turn it, and you find it doesn’t budge.

“What the fuck?”

Sanji groans again, slowly and carefully sitting up, before looking over at you. “What are you doing here, darling?” He looks at your hand, up at your expression, then back down to the doorknob. “Why…why is the doorknob backwards?”

Instead of the lock being where it should be, you find the keyhole on the inside of the door. There’s slight scratches around the nails holding it and place, and you realize someone has turned it around. There’s a quiet murmur of voices on the other side of the door, which turns to a yelp when you punch the wood. “What the hell is this?”

“We’re helping!” Nami’s voice rings out confidently from the other side, and you hear a few noises of agreement.

“With what, exactly?” You have a horrible sinking feeling you know exactly what they’re going to say, but you try to push it out of your mind, channeling the relentless optimism of your captain.

“We’re tired of you two being idiots!” Zoro’s voice is annoyed and unfriendly, but after a moment it slightly softens. “Just…talk to each other. Like people. For once in your lives.”

You don’t know why, but something about that makes Sanji’s brow twitch in annoyance. “Let us out, mosshead! I knew you were awful but I can’t believe you’d trap a lady!”

“It wasn’t my goddamn idea! Blame Nami!”

Sanji pauses in his yelling at that, but shockingly enough, he still seems upset instead of instantly kowtowing. He frowns, forehead wrinkling, but doesn’t say anything else.

“We aren’t letting you out until you’ve talked. We’re gonna go so you have privacy, but if you break out we’re putting you right back in, so don’t even think about just kicking down the door!” Nami’s voice is firm and commanding, and you find your shoulders slumping, knowing there’s no real point in fighting her. You’re both hungover, exhausted, and not in any state to continue the conflict. You sigh, making your way to a cot next to Sanji’s. You throw yourself down, the slight bounce you make on landing making you far more nauseous than it had any right to.

“Do you know what they want us to talk about?” Sanji sounds almost nervous, which surprises you. Does he know?

“I…have an idea. Do you?”

“I might.”

You both shift awkwardly in the silence that follows. You fidget with your hands, curling in tighter, anxiety eating at you. This is it. This is the rejection you’ve been waiting for. The final blow to shatter your fragile hopes, to crush your remaining optimism and the wonderful future you’ve allowed yourself to keep dreaming of.

“What do you see in him?” Sanji’s voice is quiet and seeping with vulnerability. His eyes are closed, as though he’s scared to even look at you and get your answer.

“What do I see in who?”

“In that stupid swordsman. Why do you care about him?”

“What?” You blink owlishly.

He finally looks up at you. He blinks back. “What do you mean, what?”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m dating Zoro?”

“Are you…not? Trying to do that?”

“No! God no! I’m–” You barely hold yourself back from saying trying to date you. “I’m not into Zoro like that. Did you think I was?”

“I–um. No?” His dour look turns sheepish, a small bit of red painting his cheeks. Adorable.

“God, Sanji. Zoro is not my type.” You both sit for a moment, before you realize something. “Were you upset because you thought I was into him?”

“He isn’t good enough for you.” He says it so matter-of-fact, like it’s an obvious truth. “No one is, but especially not him. You deserve the best, and nothing less.”

Your heart flutters a little, that little thing with feathers worming its way back into you, but you suddenly see Nami’s face in your mind and you crush it. To dream and watch it die is far worse than never dreaming at all. “That’s sweet, Sanji. But you shouldn’t say things like that. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

His head cocks to the side. “What do you mean, wrong idea? You do deserve the best. No one in the world deserves it more than you.”

“What about Nami?”

“What about Nami?”

“Does she not deserve the best? More than I do? More than anyone? Your sweet Nami-swan?” You fail to keep the bitterness out of your tone in that. Not bitterness towards her, of course, or even towards Sanji, really, just a sour taste in your mouth you can’t quite shake.

His brow furrows, lips downturned. “Well she deserves the best too, of course, but why would she deserve it more? Why wouldn’t you deserve everything you want?”

You let out a frustrated growl. “That’s what I want to know! Why not me?” You slam your hand over your mouth. God, he knows, and now he’s going to reject you, so sweetly and kindly, like he does everything, and it’s going to shatter you into a million pieces. You squeeze your eyes shut like blocking out the sight of him will undo what you’ve just done.

You don’t hear him reject you. You don’t even hear him move. You only feel warm hands on your cheeks, and you open your eyes to see Sanji right in front of you, nose to nose, and you can see reflected in his eyes something you might dare to call hope.

“Do you want it to be you?” You hear a longing in his words, see it in his eyes. You have never known Sanji as a man to want, to desire more than what he’s freely given, but in this moment it truly almost seems like he wants you.

You slowly take your hand off of your mouth. Your voice is meek, mouselike, but you force it out anyway. “Would that be okay? If I did?”

“Oh angel, it would be more than okay.” He slides impossibly closer, thighs on either side of yours, torsos pressed together, surrounding you wholly. “It is you. It has always been you. It will always be you. Is that okay?”

You want to answer him in words, something articulate that would move his heart, but instead you let out a soft squeak of surprise before grabbing his cheeks and pulling his lips to yours. They’re chapped, the dehydration from the hangover still plaguing him. He has morning breath. His movements are uncoordinated, unsteady. His goatee scratches your chin. When he opens his mouth, welcoming you further, he tastes like cigarettes and a hint of shitty beer. 

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You end up on your back, Sanji’s weight holding you down, comforting and all-consuming. His hands rest on your hips as yours tangle in his hair. You only pull back when the demand for air is too much, and even then you consider ignoring the scream of your lungs. You both pull back, chests heaving, and Sanji buries his face in your neck.

“I never thought I’d actually get to do this.” He buries his nose further into your neck, his arms sliding underneath you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Neither did I. I kept telling myself to stop dreaming about things I couldn’t have.”

“You’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You’ve had me for just as long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

You take a strained breath. “I was…I don’t deserve you. And I thought you knew that. And that you were in love with Nami. That didn’t help.”

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, his gaze boring into you. “You thought you didn’t deserve me?” He sounds absolutely baffled at the idea.

“You’re kind, talented, strong, handsome…you’re everything, Sanji. You deserve everything you want. And I didn’t think you wanted me.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before a small chuckle forces its way out of him. “That’s…that’s so ridiculous I genuinely don’t even know where to start.”

He kisses your forehead. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I’m ever going to want.”

He kisses your cheeks. “I have wanted you from the moment we met, and I will want you until the day I die.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I have never met anyone more deserving of the world than you. And I’m not going to let anyone say otherwise. Even you. So there.”

You lean up to kiss his forehead in turn. “Well there’s nothing in this world I want more than you. Can I really have you?”

He takes one of your hands and places it over his rapidly beating heart. “You feel that? It’s all yours.” He lifts your other hand and kisses it in a deeply princely gesture that fits him perfectly.

Before you can reciprocate, the door slams open, and you hear Zoro’s disgruntled voice call out. “They’re making out! Can we be done with this now?”

Sanji whips around with even more vitriol than he usually reserves for the swordsman. “Piss off, mosshead. Can’t you see we’re busy?” The quick movement makes him sway slightly, and you’re forced to remember how horribly you’re both doing physically. If he picks a fight with Zoro right now he might end up puking all over his shoes.

“Ignore him, Sanji. We need to get some rest anyway.” You pull his face into your chest, which he gladly collapses fully into. When you run your fingers through his hair, he’s practically purring.

“Anything you say, my love.” His content smile grows wider when he hears your heart quicken at the words. Neither of you say anything else as your friends crowd the room, with their finallys and about times. Nothing in the world matters more than this right now: the feeling of each other’s warmth, the softness of each other’s skin, and the feeling of relief in both of your chests that your hopes were finally allowed to thrive.

[bokunoheros]

⋆˚࿔ naughty iida tenya hcs 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🪲 authors note:// okay yes, these will be naughty sorry i’m fucking insane okay????? this man is critically underrated and every fic i’ve read with him is fucking ass. that being said: fine, i’ll do it myself. these are. not in order. FYI.

topics discussed & warnings:// voyeurism, thigh/leg fetish, crying during sex, oral sex, BDSM undertones (?), cunnilingus, mutual mast., gender is not specified but I use female anatomical terminology, established relations kind of, kissing, lots of kissing, shared showering.

word count:// 836-ish

ᯓ heed the warnings laid before you, your media consumption is your responsibility! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

every WORD under the cut will be R-RATED- SO, +18 only, respect my wishes regarding interactions.

𝜗𝜚 edited and proof read by the lovely calius .ᐟ xoxo

✎ᝰ He’s not into fucking, and prefers the term love making.

He’s a voyeur. I SAID IT! When you two finally get comfortable in your relationship, he will be spying on you in the shower— or while you change, taking a peek even if you told him to turn around. Sure, he’d be all bashful and nervous about it, but damn, he cannot help himself when it comes to you! — adding onto his voyeurism, he is very interested in mutual masturbation. He… finally… admitted that he saw it in an “inappropriate video” once, and got curious. Of course you had berated his ass for this, and he pouted until you were done laughing. But alas, you couldn’t say no to his darling red eyes. He’d stare at you so intently, studying every inch of your face as you respond to his touch, struggling to keep your pace between his legs as he brushes over your clit…

HOLY SHIT, does this man like legs. God forbid you incorporate panty hose or stockings or thigh-high socks into your specially designed costume, because he will be touching himself to you, ripping a hole in them, or ripping them straight off. Tenya revels in the way the fatty skin of your thighs melt over the elastic band, as it is quite literally a sight to behold. When you guys are dating— and have finally found the courage to have sex— he is not bashful about begging you to crush his head around your thighs, no matter the consequence.

Tenya is… let’s just say—very— into oral sex. He definitely has an oral fixation, and will basically do anything to go down on you, or for you to go down on him. Don’t want to do your homework? He’s already done it. Don’t feel like showering after battle training? Like he gives a shit. He’d pounce between your thighs at any given chance. — while being proud of his behavior when he goes down on you, Tenya is completely the opposite when it comes to your mouth on him. He’s bashful, nervous, and unfortunately, an accidental head-pusher. Though, he will apologize profusely as he pushes you down, he just cannot help himself. Tenya’s on the verge of crying already, and you’re barely halfway down his cock, so you at least have to give him this, right?

Iida Tenya happens to go brain dead more often than you’d think. Yes, he is just sooooo headstrong, but your warmth and the way you squeeze him, pulling him in further— and he’s babbling. Mindlessly humping into your cunt, muttering every curse he knows— slobbering as he tries to form a coherent sentence only to tell you just how good you feel.

THIS. MAN. IS. A. KISSER. DAMNIT! He loves to kiss. That’s it: kiss. Tenya would kiss all over you for no reason, other than just because he can. He loves to swipe his tongue over your neck, nibbling your earlobe before sucking a specific spot just below. He loves how you react, especially when his tongue dives into your mouth and slides against yours and the only thing you can do is thread your fingers through his jet-blue hair, tugging on what you can because you cannot fucking breathe.

Get on top of that man. RIDE HIM LIKE THE GODDAMN STEAM ENGINE HE IS. He’ll keep you firmly atop him when you do, keeping you snug in a bear hug around your waist while you grip his shoulders. He’d rutt his hips upwards when you got tired, burying his face in your tits as he brought you down hard into his hips.

Trust me, he ain’t coming until you have, that’s for sure. He’d be eating you out, fingering you with one big hand, and the other snaked between his own legs, jerking himself off. Like clockwork, only a moment after you does he finish, hastily pulling himself upwards so he can shoot his load onto the skin of your thighs with a huff, resting his forehead against your navel. You run your hands through his scalp, scratching his skin with your nails gently as you both calm the hell down.

aftercare hcs, a treat for my sweet readers ᥫ᭡.

✎ᝰ Tenya is such a sweetie. He would snuggle forever if you hadn’t gotten up to use the bathroom; even then, he’d stare at the door until you wandered back out, beckoning you to fall back into his warm embrace, which of course, you do. He’d hold onto you so tight, almost as if he was scared you would leave, disappear, dissipate— he draws little shapes over the skin of your back, pressing his strong hands into your skin every once and a while.

He’d continue this act, adding the sensation of kissing the top of your head before you inevitably drag him to the shower with you. He leans down so you can scrub his hair, sighing as you scratch his scalp, his hunky form relaxing ever so slightly under your touch.

THANK YOU FOR READING! if you wish to see more of me, ₊⊹

my carrd

kofi (tip me!)

[corpsebasil]

Karma Part 3

Ghostface is her protector, but maybe more than that.

Your relationship had grown from tentative friendship leading into more, to full blown dating.

You’d never had so much fun as you did with Ethan. He liked to buy you flowers ‘just because’ which never failed to make you smile. When doing homework together he’d reach over and draw a tiny heart in your notebook, then pretend he didn’t know he’d done it. He was a terrible cook but, to your delight, he’d taken up baking rather quickly, and fumbled through the kitchen with you as you taught him the basics.

Just a few days ago you both had gotten drunk and played Just Dance. Rasputin was his go to and lord the man could move. You’d almost fell backwards onto the ground when you’d attempted the squat jump movement he easily copied, and you’d both laughed, collapsing onto the floor in a pile of giggles.

But then there were the more intimate moments.

The moments when he’d prop his head on your shoulder when you were with your friends, or when he’d hold your hand, almost constantly. And the kissing… You’d never gone farther than just that, although you wanted to. But you happily settled for the nights when he’d kiss you until you thought you’d pass out, the whispers between the two of you lost in the dark.

And the first time he told you he loved you, kissing you slowly on the couch, you felt so filled to the brim with emotion you almost embarrassed yourself by crying. You only ran your hands through his hair, murmuring the words back, and allowed him to run a hand up the bare skin of your thigh.

But then Ghostface called you.

You were in your room, playing Solitaire on your laptop, when your phone buzzed.

“Babe? That you?”

“It can be, if that’s what you want.” Ghostface teased, and you couldn’t help the slight smirk that pulled at your mouth.

“Very funny.” You told him, standing up to examine your apartment. “But I’m happily taken. If you’re here, though, maybe you can give me some knife lessons. I’d like to know how to defend myself.”

“As much fun as that would be,” the killer said, his tone amused. “I’m not there. But you need to listen to me.”

You paused, clutching the phone a bit tighter.

“What is it, Ghostie?”

“It’s—” you heard a male laugh and grinned. You didn’t want to admit it—would never admit it to anyone—but you’d found yourself waiting for him to come back. His jokes, his protectiveness…you could use that in a friend. Not that you would tell anyone that you found a serial killer worthy of friendship. “Ghostie? Really?”

You laughed and could almost feel him rolling his eyes.

“Sure, laugh away, pretty girl. I’m sure you’ll find it hilarious when I’m the one that has to save your ass once again.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled, ignoring the blush that rose on your face at his words. You had a boyfriend damnit. “So what do you want? I’m assuming this isn’t a pleasure call.”

“Gale Weathers is going to be carved up in about twenty minutes, by my guess.” He deadpanned, and you stilled. “My…cohort, if you will, is on their way. If you want to help her, like you’ve said you do, then go. I’ll meet you there.”

“Why would you help me?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “You’ve gone out of your way to save me multiple times now. Why?”

“Let’s call it an investment.” He said, and you bristled a bit. “Take it as a compliment, baby. I’m not letting you go just yet.”

“Oh please.” You scoffed, but your mind was racing back to Gale as you grabbed your purse and slid your shoes on. “I’m headed there. No fucking jump scares or I might hit you. My boyfriend’s been teaching me a bit of self defense.”

Your feet were loud on the stairs as you rushed out of the complex, headed to your car. You barely used the thing as you preferred walking, but today was an emergency.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Ghostface asked, his tone practically seductive as you drove out of the parking lot towards Gale’s place. “Ethan, is it?”

“Yes.” You purred. “How’d you know?”

“Tall, incredibly good looking? How could I not?”

You paused.

Your thoughts seemed to glitch at that response, your reply a bit too long for comfort. What in the—

“Y/N?”

“Yeah. I’m on my way I’ll—I’ll see you there.”

“Y/N, wait—”

You hung up, your breathing uneven as you glanced down momentarily at the blocked caller ID. The gears were turning in your brain, slowly, as you tried to think. There was something nagging you, something not right about Ghostface. Something familiar.

You blinked, shoving away any insane thoughts, and screeched into Gale’s parking lot minutes later.

-

You were terrified.

You’d never been so scared for your life, not when you’d been with Gale, urging the reporter to leave and call police. Not when Ghostface had thrown Gale’s boyfriend, dead, to the floor. You backed away, rushing to hide, but there was nowhere to go.

Gale was fighting—Gale was the main target here, not you. And the worst part was, you knew in your gut that this wasn’t your Ghostface. This person would gladly kill you, and would have no remorse.

You were paralyzed. Paralyzed as Gale stormed back into the living-room with a gun, her phone to her ear. You stared with wide eyes as she motioned for you to duck down behind the kitchen island, hiding yourself from sight. You felt your chest growing tight. It was just like before—just like before when you’d been cornered with nowhere else to go.

Gale hung up, putting the Ghostface on hold, of all things, and after a few seconds of tense silence you heard a phone ring. You covered your ears with your hands as shots fired, and then Gale was screaming, and you were shaking so bad you thought you might puke.

You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t want to be a coward, not now, not ever, so you stood, picking up a ceramic dinner plate and hurling it at Ghostface’s head. It slammed into them just before it could stab Gale again, and you threw another, then another. The last one missed and you ran, screaming as the Ghostface—god they were fast—chased you down.

You ran, but not fast enough, not when they slashed out at you and tore a gash through your arm. You shrieked, stumbling, and knocked a chair in their path as you searched for anywhere to hide.

And then there was only you, and the corner of the room, and no where to go.

“I’m going to enjoy this, bitch.” Ghostface snarled, flipping their knife in their hand.

You threw your hands up, as if that would stop it, when a loud cracking sound filled the space as the locked door banged open.

You knew who it was—could feel it in your gut as you saw him sprint for the person holding a knife towards you.

Ethan was Ghostface.

He was Ghostface. The one who’d been saving you this entire time. You’d wondered, absentmindedly, but knew for sure, right then, when he’d launched himself in front of the second Ghostface, tearing across the room to tackle whoever was behind the other mask.

You screamed as you cowered in the corner, watching as he and the other Ghostface rolled on the floor, he attempting to restrain them, them fighting back. They were yelling at each other, so loud you could barely make out what they were saying. But then the other Ghostface shoved him off and ran, sprinting out the door as fast as they could.

Ethan turned to you, breathing hard, the white of his mask catching the light. You moved forward, only a step; he was Ghostface. A killer. But you loved him. You loved him.

You stepped forward as your mouth wobbled, tears falling down your face as you moved to him. He was trembling, breathing hard, as you pulled his mask off and looked at him. His expression was one of agony and sorrow, shaking his head slowly at you as if to convey words he didn’t have.

He didn’t need to.

You kissed him, tugging him down to you by the black robes you’d grown used to, had grown to trust, and he let out a low, anguished noise into your mouth. Ethan was crying when you pulled away, his head dropping to your shoulder as he he clutched you to him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, squeezing you tighter when you looped your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry baby, I wanted to tell you.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” You swallowed roughly, the pain in your arm momentarily forgotten at the moment. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

“I tried to protect you. I wanted you safe I never should’ve asked you to come here—”

“Ethan, look at me.” He did, pulling his head back, and you grasped his face in your hands, resting your forehead against his own. “I love you, E. I trust you, okay? We’re gonna find a way to get you out of this—”

“Still bleeding over here.” Gale called out to you both, and you turned. You were surprised she’d survived. “As creepily touching as this is.”

“Ethan, call an ambulance.” You told him, pressing one last kiss to his mouth before whispering, “and get the Hell out of here. Fast.”

He nodded and bolted, already pulling out his phone, as you dropped beside Gale and helped put pressure on her wound.

-

The second you were cleared by the medics, a gauzy bandage wrapped around your arm, you got to your apartment as fast as you physically could. Ethan was already there, putting clothes and other objects of yours into a suitcase. You gaped at him and shut the front door, locking it behind him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting you out of here.” He said, still focused on his work.

“Ethan what—what are you talking about?”

“The theater,” he looked up at you, eyes slightly crazed. “It’s a trap.” He gestured to the bag. “We’ll get you on a bus or a plane or something.”

“Ethan I am not leaving you.”

“Shit, Y/N.” He cursed, standing up and crossing the room. He placed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then pulled back. “Please let me get you out. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”

“And I’d rather die than see something happen to you.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, his brow furrowed as he sighed, holding you close. He ran a hand over your hair and pressed his lips your temple, and you could feel Ethan’s heart racing through the shirt he now wore.

“At least..at least put some things in my backpack. Just in case.” You could hear his uneven breathing and you slid your hands to his neck, holding him tighter. Then his chest heaved, and you felt a drop of wetness against your face. “I cant watch you die.”

“I’m not going to die. We’re both going to be fine.” You promised, and kissed him. “Ghostie.”

He held you tight as a half-hearted laugh left him, holding you so close you could feel almost every inch of him. And then he was lifting you, carrying you to your room, where he laid with you on the bed, kissing you and running his hands over your skin.

“I love you.” He murmured, lips soft on your own, and you held him tight, desperate to have him here with you for the little time you had left.

stg there’s only ONE PART LEFT BE PATIENT AND MAKE SURE TO REBLOG FOLLOW AND COMMENT for PART FOURRRR

tag list:

@pagesfalling @taetae123094 @iloveneilperry @hopefulcandywitch

@bokutoswifey

[katiscrying]

I’ve been holding myself back but I keep reading cg!elvis x little!reader fics and I’m going insane from how CUTE THEY ARE ☹️🤍

So here’s my Drabble ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

Tw(s): Cursing, pet names (baby, lil’ one, honey), use of y/n, angsty?

70s!elvis

•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔* •₊˚୨ৎ

It’s been a week of work hell for Elvis and with the work load and being in the studio for at least 10-12 hours straight meant that his sweet lil’ one wasn’t getting as much attention as they deserve and he feels awful for it but you seemed to understand.. right?

Well yes, you know daddy doesn’t do it on purpose but you don’t like it. One bit. Now, you’d never purposely aggravate Elvis when your little but being needy for attention is close to just doing anything for it.

You came up with a little harmless plan that you know damn well Elvis would turn his attention to you in an instant. He knows not to swear in front of you but when he does on accident or by protecting you when your little in fear you’ll repeat the words but you don’t.. at least didn’t. You’d always hear his voice go stern as he’d lower to your height and say; “now don’t you say none of that, y’too lil’” in which you had always nodded with a “i wont daddy”. This time you decided to oppose your own words.

Elvis got home from the studio earlier than expected and when your little headspace went head on with your big headspace after a little trigger name echoed through your ears.. ‘baby’. While you both lounged out on the couch, Elvis assuming that the work was slowly halting when the phone in his office began ringing. A sigh escapes his lips as he gets up. “Gotta take that, lil’. You behave ‘kay?” You cross your arms and don’t nod but instead with your little voice you sit up and confidently say “damnit.”

Elvis was already close to the frame of the door when he froze. You watched as he turned around. “Excuse me—?” He says confused but alerted. “Nuh-uh lil’ one. You are too little for them words” he says with a stern yet still stunned tone you’d said a big word.

You keep your arms crossed and a small pout forming in your lips as he focuses solely on you.. just letting that phone ring. This is far more important. He levels himself to your sight of vision and with that same voice you always dislike hearing:

“Now why’d y’go and say that word, y/n? You are way too lil’ to use those naughty words ‘specially ‘round daddy.”

He waited to see if you had a response but you didn’t. Not even a peep.

“well?” He says, his arms folded.

Your eyes cloud up with tears, looking up at him. “M’ sorry, daddy..” Your voice shaky and your bottom lip quivering as you softly murmur. This throws Elvis off a bit. Why were you crying so suddenly?

“Hey, hey, lil’ one, what’s the matter?” His voice goes soft as his hands rub your smaller ones. “Said a bad word.. n daddy’s mad at me” you sniffle, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan.

“Hey, no— no. Daddy ain’t mad he’s just wonderin’ why yer swearin’ when you know you ain’t supposed to..” he says with a reassuring look on his face , his other hand reaching up to wipe your warm tears.

“Now, you wanna tell daddy why y’said that?” He asked again, softer and in a more coaxing manner. You sniffled before everything spilled out in word vomit. “Was just trying to get your attention, daddy.. didn’t wanna swear. You been busy all week n’ I know that.. but daddy don’t want his baby no more—”

His eyes go wide in shock as he listens before quickly shutting those thoughts down.

“Woah, woah, woah, honey— slow down..” he trails off, pulling you closer to him.

“None of that is true, honey. None. Daddy’s been busy and you’ve been such a good girl understanding that but you think I don’t want my baby no more?” You nod at his words, looking away from him but his fingers gently grasp your chin, making you look at him.

“Daddy always wants his baby.. even when he’s busy. Dontchu think anything different. Now let me wipe those tears.” The pads of his thumbs wipe the remains of those warm tear tracks on your cheeks before he picks you up. His arm supports your bottom as your smaller frame. “I think someone needs a nap m, lil’ one”

You nod your head that’s resting on his shoulder. “Mhm..”

“Alright, lil’ one.. you gon’ be okay now.. daddy ain’t gonna let you go. Gonna be right with you when y’wake up.”

•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔* •₊˚୨ৎ

We need more cg!elvis ☹️🤍

[butchcarmy]

Idk if you've written this but can you write about carmy and the reader arguing and he makes her cry? Idk I just feel like thatd be good angst fluff lol

AHH I got carried away as per usual. anyway this is good stuff. wrote a bunch. enjoy!!

word count: 1.3k

tags: traumatized carmy, mentally ill carmy and reader, arguing, language, HURT/COMFORT, ANGST/FLUFF, carmy being a sweetie

Hm…i'm spending a lot of time thinking about the set-up for this. Carmy is a very careful person when it comes to those he’s romantically involved in, but at the same time, he has a hard time controlling his temper when he's in the darkness, as i'll put it. 

here's something awful i think about that i wanna write about. carmy's stressed about work, because of course he is. he's carmy. his head is whirring, spinning with anxiety and self-hatred. i think you're just like him. mentally ill for mentally ill if you will. you're also in a bad mood, and he comes home from The Bear exhausted and keyed up.

“I hate when you push me away like this,” you admit. You've been trying to get him to talk to you since he's been home. Maybe he just needs space, but separation makes you anxious. Especially when he shuts down. 

“I'm sorry that it's so hard for you,” he spits, finally snapping and turning to face you. You've followed him into the dark bedroom, lit only by the harsh moonlight through the window. You flinch. You never quite get used to seeing him like this. 

“I—I just—“ you feel pressure beginning in the back of your eyes. You will it away. “How can I help you if you don’t talk to me?”

“Why do you care so much? Does it make you feel better to take care of someone more fucked up than you?” He snaps, voice raised. His words go down bitter, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. Something in you shatters.

“How could you ask me that?” Your vision’s gone hot and blurry. “I’m your partner. I love you, that’s why I care, you asshole!” You’re stifling sobs. You hate crying in fights like this, but it hurts. You can’t help it.

“Fuck,” Carmy mutters under his breath. He’s gone still in your blurred vision. “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that—“

“That was so fucked up, Carmy.” You move to sit on the bed, trying to wipe your tears away, but they keep coming. “What’s your problem?”

“You know what my problem is.” His remorse has swept away the anger, leaving him quiet before you. He leans down at your knees, hands on your thighs. “I shouldn’t have said that. Any of that.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Carmy nods quickly, and he raises a hand to your wet cheeks. “Fuckin’ asshole.”

“I know.” He takes your pain, your anger in its entirety. His other hand brings your knuckles to his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.“

“Sure sounded like you meant it.” Anger flares up in your chest, hurt and betrayed, but you tamp it down, leaning into his hand cradling his face. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Damnit, Carmy.”

“I know. I know.” He’s still kissing your hand. “You’re too good for me. I don’t deserve you.” You hate it when he talks like this, because you can tell he really believes it.

“Don’t say that. Please.” 

“But it’s true.” You look down at him in the moonlight, at his sad blue eyes. “I always find ways to hurt you. I…”

“That’s what being in a relationship is, Carm.” You pat the space next to you. “Sit with me?”

“I keep having to remind myself of that.” He sinks into the bed next to you. “I’m so sorry for talking about you like that. Like you’re only doing this out of…I don’t know. Obligation.” He drags a hand across his tired face. “You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry. I just, I just think that—that I’m—fuck—“

“Slow down, Carm,” you say quietly. “It’s okay. You don’t need to force it. I’m listening.” He smiles bitterly at you, and you recognize the love in it easily. He takes in a deep breath before continuing. 

“I still have a hard time believing that anyone cares about me. I can’t even believe that you—love me.” You can practically see the shame rolling off of him in waves. “And it makes me scared.”

“Love is scary, isn’t it?” You say softly. He just nods. “It scares me, too. That’s why I kept pestering you when you got home. I…” You blink quickly. You don’t wanna cry again. “It scares me when I don’t know what you’re thinking. Because…I dunno. It just does.”

“Yeah?” You nod. He has this thoughtful expression that he holds for a moment as he stews on your words. “I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry. I think…I think when you kept asking me if I was okay, it…” he sighs, scratches at his temples. “I felt like I was…getting back into a corner. I think.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” You take his hand in yours. “I can see how that must’ve felt really bad.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault that I’m like this. I think—I think it just reminded me of my mom. We would always ask her if she was okay, because she’s fucking crazy, yknow? We didn’t wanna step on her toes. But it turns out we did anyway. And the way I acted just now, I was just like…” He can’t even get the words out. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, voice choked with emotion. “I love you. So much. You know that, right?”

“You tell me everyday. How could I not?” You pull him into a hug, tight and warm, and he instantly wraps his arms around you. “You’re not your mom, Carm. You're nothing like her. Okay?” 

“I don’t wanna be like her,” he whispers. “I don’t wanna be like her.”

“You’re not,” you remind him softly. “And you won’t be.”

Carmy leans back to look at you, but he remains close. His expression is knotted with pain. You run your thumb over his furrowed brow, and it makes his mouth curve upwards in a smile. It’s fleeting, but it was there. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’ll try to open up more. Let you know what I’m thinking.”

Suddenly, you think about when you first started dating Carmy. He was so scared to open up to you emotionally, but with gentle prodding, he fell apart instantly. There was a hunger in him to be known by others, to be seen by you, and it scared him to death. You see that same fear in him now, but you also see how much he’s grown since then. You doubt you would’ve been able to have this conversation at all in the first couple months. 

That makes you happy in a way you’re not quite able to word properly.

“Thank you. But I hope you also know I don’t want to force you. I just wanna help. And…” You measure your words carefully. “I’ll try not to let it freak me out so much. Because if you’re not in the mood to talk, I want you to know that’s okay. Okay?”

“Okay. I’d like that. If I don’t want to talk, I’ll just tell you. Instead of…blowing a fuse.” He laughs dryly. 

“I’d like that too.” You let out an exhale of relief you didn’t realize you were holding. “Wow, Carm. Look at us. Communicating!”

“I know.” That makes him laugh for real this time, and you’re laughing too. “I couldn’t do it without you.”

“I think you could. But I certainly like doing it with you.” His smiles grows wider at that, brimming with affection. 

“Let me make this up to you, baby.” He pulls you in for a kiss, slow and deep. You let out a little noise when his lips meet yours. 

“Make it up to me?” Carmy’s tongue is on your neck now. Oh. “Aren’t you tired? You—you have work tomorrow—?”

“Don’t care.” You fall back onto the bed, and the blankets deflate under you. You stare up at Carmy, his curls hanging by his face. “You’re more important.”

“Well, if you insist…” You giggle, and your giggles get louder when Carmy pulls up your shirt to blow raspberries against your stomach. “Carmy, quit it—oh—!”

He makes it up to you in full and more by keeping his head between your legs for the rest of the night. By the end of it you can't remember what you were mad about in the first place.

[aliahm]

“When I’m not with you, think of you always”

Crowley x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: You wind up talking to Crowley about the unexpected reason you bought your new sunglasses.

Warnings: Mentions of crying and being overwhelmed

If there are any content warnings I left out, or I made any mistakes writing for a gender neutral reader, please let me know.

(Credit for the beautiful dividers used in this post goes to each of the creators here on tumblr. The images were found on google, and credit for each of them goes to the owners. The title is a lyric from, of course, “Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy” by Queen <3).

“Hey, love?”

You looked up from your laptop, towards the sound of Crowley’s voice, and saw him standing in the living room doorway.

“Hm?”

“Where’d you get these?”

Dangling from his fingers was a pair of sunglasses that somewhat resembled his own.

“Oh,” you responded, a bit reluctantly, “I bought them a few days ago. They’re for uh, going out”.

He turned the sunglasses over in his hands, observing them more closely. “We went to lunch yesterday and you didn’t wear them”.

You nodded, “Yeah, they’re only for when I’m not with you”.

“Well,” he scoffed, caught off guard by your response, “I suppose if we walked around wearing the same thing it’d get old soon enough”.

You smiled amusedly, and before you could stop yourself, you replied: “True, but that’s not the reason”.

“Then what’s the reason?”

“Damnit” you mentally cursed yourself for letting that slip.

Your eyes zeroed in on your sunglasses in his hands, and then started bouncing back and forth from yours to his, which were hanging from the neckline of his shirt.

“It’s not important.” you answered hesitantly.

“Honey-”

“You don’t believe me, right?”

“Not for a second”.

He walked over to the couch you were sitting on, and knelt behind it, as you turned around in your seat to fully face him.

“What’s going on?”

“It might sound kind of strange”.

“That’s alright,” he reassured you. “you know you can talk to me”.

You nodded, and told him:

“I bought them for when I’m not with you, because I don’t need them then”.

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“Cause you help me through it when I’m overwhelmed, but when you’re not there, all I can do is cry”.

“and you bought the sunglasses because you don’t want anybody to see you?”

You nodded again. “People don’t usually react well when I cry, but it happens so much. Even when I don’t want to cry, it happens, and I hate it”.

“Tears are nothing to be ashamed of,” he reminded you, “especially when you’re overwhelmed, and you have to put yourself first when that happens. It doesn’t matter what anyone else might think about you crying”.

“I know that,” you agreed, “but still, you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like it’s okay to cry at all. When you’re not around, I go back to trying to hide it, cause it’s all I know how to do”.

“Sometimes I wish I could be there all the time.” He told you, a thoughtful frown crossing his face. “Makes me feel better to know I’m right there if you need me”.

“I know,” you replied, squeezing his hand, “but I won’t ask that of you. We both know I can handle myself, I’m just trying to figure out how to do that”.

“You’re not some problem to be “handled”, baby. You’re a person with feelings, and you already do a damn good job at handling those feelings every day, even when it’s difficult”.

A grateful smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and he continued:

“Even so, neither of us can control peoples’ reactions to what we do, and we both know I wouldn’t react well if anyone decided to judge you for crying”.

He nodded towards your sunglasses.

“If these help you when I’m not around, then good, but if ever they’re not enough, then you come to me, or just say the word and I’ll come to you, no matter where or when”.

“I promise I will”.

“Good”.

He smiled and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you smiled along with him, an idea suddenly entering your mind.

“Wanna see me try the sunglasses on?”

Crowley laughed, and gently ran his fingers through your hair. “Go for it, sweetheart”.

[rosssesposts]

Arguments…with a twist?

Ight so this finna be a pain in the ass cause I’m finna have to switch from the Spanish translator to this cause ion speak the damn language so y’all work with me 😭 also this is a make of my last post in case y’all dunno where this came from 👍🏽

POV: You and Miguel having an argument infront of Miles and you both forget he speaks Spanish to(hope this not trash man imma cry 😭)

Warning: cursing, lots of dirty talk in the mix,implied smut but not too much,fluff after argument, reader being a brat(🌚)

“¡Maldito Miguel! ¿Por qué tienes que ser tan terco?”( Damnit Miguel! Why do you have to be so stubborn!) Y/n shouted at Miguel. Miguel had been on Y/n’s ass all week about her being careless on missions and doing risky stuff. He cared too much for her to let her keep doing stuff like this. So he put his foot down and told her she wasn’t allowed on missions anymore. “Cariño, amor de mi vida, por favor entiende, estás poniendo demasiado en riesgo tu vida para mi gusto y ya no la tendré más.”(Sweetheart, Love of my life, please understand, you are putting your life at risk too much for my liking and I wont have it anymore.)

Miguel had tried to reason with her so many times and has been so soft spoken with her, trying not to outburst at her in any way possible. He needed her to understand how much she meant to him. “Mi amor, te aseguro que estoy bien y puedo cuidarme solo, te preocupas demasiado. Sabes que puedo cuidar de mí mismo.”(My love I assure you, I am fine and can take care of myself you worry too much. You know I can take care of myself.) Y/n understand Miguel’s concerns, but you were more than capable of handling yourself and you knew that HE knew that. You saw the scowl on Miguel’s face starting to form but slowly go down as he was trying not to snap at you. “T/n, por última vez, no más misiones y eso es definitivo, ahora deja de discutir conmigo.” (Y/n, for the last time, no more missions and that is final, now stop arguing with me.) Miguel said sternly sick of the debating with you, looking at you with a serious face. You sat there with a mad expression on your face about to lash out at him but you take a deep breathe and relax.

“Eres un maldito bruto, Miguel. ¡Por qué tienes que ser tan idiota!(You are suching a fucking brute, Miguel. Why must you be such a asshole!) And that was it. The tip of the iceberg. Miguel’s eyes flashed red and pinned you to the wall in the blink of an eye. You gasped in fear and looked up to Miguel seeing his eyes glowing a bloody red in anger. You sat there waiting for him to yell at you or say anything at that. “Pequeña puta malcriada”(You bratty little whore) He spat at you with anger and a bit of lust in his voice. Your eyes widen and breathe hitched and started to get a bit scared. “todo lo que trato de hacer es proteger a mi dulce T/n y ¿qué obtengo a cambio, eh? Ella comienza a actuar como la pequeña puta malcriada que es...”(all i try to do is protect my sweet Y/n and what do i get in return, huh? She starts acting like the bratty little cock whore she is...) Miguel spoke out breathing out with Y/n still pinned. You sat there flustered, not knowing what to do or say. You stood there between your lover and the wall embarrassed and shamed. “Tal vez, debería darle lo que quiere, ¿eh? Que la engañen y la follen como la pequeña mocosa que es para poder recordar a quién pertenece, hm, ¿no te gustaría ese amor?”(Maybe, I should give her what she wants hm? To be dicked down and fucked out like the little brat she is so she can remeber who she belongs to, hm? Wouldnt you like that sweetheart?) Miguel spoke looking down at you. You just tilted your head down embarrassed not knowing what to do. Miguel grabbed you face making you look at him, his eyes no longer red. He looked at your face red and flushed and he….chuckled. You had a confused look on your face. “Awww amor, ¿dónde está todo ese ladrido que tenías? No sabía que solo se necesitaba eso para hacerte desmoronarte, cariño.” (Awww love, wheres all that bark you had? Didn’t know it only took that to make you crumble sweetheart.) Miguel chuckles in your face, while you look at him with a pouty red face. “Listen mi vida(my life), I know I’m hard on you, but I love you, you know that.” Miguel says moving his hand to your cheek. “And if something were to happen to you, I…” He starts to tear up. You grab his hand on your cheek and squeeze it looking up at him, “shhh amor, está bien. estás atrapado conmigo, te guste o no. Y siento que soy descuidado en nuestras salidas. Prometo tener más cuidado, o me quedaré aquí como dijiste hasta que sientas que estoy listo...”(shhh amor, its ok. your stuck with me whether you like it or not, and im sorry that im careless on our outings. I promise to be more careful, or ill just stay here like you said til you feel like im ready...)

Miguel looks at you with teary eyes and smiles. He leans in and kisses you on the forehead and leans his against yours. “Amor(Love),if you can promise me you will be more careful….” He pleaded. You smile softly. “I promise cariño(Dear)…I love you.” Y/n softly speaks. “I love you to, Y/n”

(Meanwhile with Miles sitting there):

[alimaybankkk]

∞ 𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 ∞

summary: are drunk words sober thoughts? your drunk self thinks so. after an argument, jj breaks up with you and it haunts you until you decide to take action on figure eight.

warnings: mad angst, addiction

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

————————————————————————

i miss the way the light danced in his eyes. they twinkled only when i looked at them or when i wiped tears from them.

no one else saw jj maybank as a kind soul.

“he’s nothing but a fool.”

“he hits and then he runs.”

“jj maybank is a criminal.”

but i did.

i still do.

perhaps if i never drank that extra drop of beer would i have kept him in my life. but i sipped hard that night at the kegger, going to mouth nothing but mistakes to the only boy in the world that catered to my needs.

sure, jj was a criminal. but i was too. we were criminals together. our favorite rule to break was ‘no pogue on pogue macking.’

but there was pogue on pogue,

and there was macking.

* i’ve laid every night of my life since that night of the breakup in my bed, wishing i was spending it with jj.

it does feel like he hit and ran. he ran, ran, ran away from me as soon as i said those old words to him.

they replay in my head every day.

“𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢���𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲, 𝐣𝐣. 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.”

and every day i hear those words in my head, cringing every time at just the thought.

he’d raised an eyebrow.

“𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤.”

i’d giggled, putting a hand to his cheek and staring straight into his eyes.

“𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬.”

but those drunk words were not any sober thoughts of mine. i still don’t even know where they came from.

jj had nodded, thinning his lips.

“𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐟𝐟. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐦.”

i pinch myself. stop thinking about it.

“𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨.”

then i had turned to walk away, stumbling and tripping on the sand.

“𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐝𝐨. 𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞.”

“damnit, damnit, damnit!” i scream, punching my pillow and cursing as tear cloud my eyes.

there is nothing i want more than jj. i miss his smell, his touch, his hair, his eyes and his lips that would kiss mine in the middle of the night and the lips that would tell me i’m beautiful.

i sob into my pillow, picking the wall. “how the fuck could i do this to myself? what is wrong with me?”

i turn on my phone. no messages from my best friends since the breakup.

it’s pretty evident they took his side, leaving me to wallow all alone.

but i’m going to change that.

* i pace on the sidewalk, stepping beside the twinkie as it pulls up.

i cross my fingers, hoping jj is not inside.

he isn’t.

sarah, kie, john b, pope and cleo step out with concern.

“hi,” i say awkwardly, expecting angry faces. they just seemed nervous.

“hey,” pope responds, scratching his neck.

“can we talk?”

they all nod, walking over to a bench right next to a neighborhood. i follow them.

“um,” i start, taking a deep breath. “i guess jj probably told you about what happened..”

they nod. john b sighs. “he told us everything.”

i bite my lip. “and just saying, you have every right to judge that i’m in the wrong.”

cleo shrugs. “i don’t really care. i just miss us being friends again.”

“i do, too. but i know you guys would choose jj over me.”

there is no protests. it’s just silent awareness. sarah steps up. “i’m sorry.”

i shrug. “whatever makes you happy, you know?”

pope swallows. “listen, i don’t want things to get better. i really do! it’s just… jj hasn’t been so reasonable.”

“i’m a bitch,” i mutter under my breath. “what’s he doing?”

“alcohol. weed. the usual. just… overly more constant.” kiara says.

“shit!” i cry. “damnit!”

john b frowns. “it’s taken a toll on you, hasn’t it?”

i nod. “yea. i hate myself so much. i just… i think i need to talk to him, y’know?”

everyone tries to get words out, but it’s only spluttering. pope is the only person to make a slightly coherent sentence. “it might be-be—um. best if you didn’t?”

“where is he at right now?”

john b sighs. “um, figure eight.”

“tonight’s midsummers. he’s going, right?”

john b nods. “he’s going. but i’m not sure if he’ll listen to you.”

i bite my lip. “the only way for me to get in is if kiara invites me.”

kiara turns her head. “i don’t know. i don’t know if i should.”

i grab her hands. “kie, come on! we’ve been friends since first grade. you HAVE to do this for me if you want to have that friendship back again.”

she freezes, then she sighs. “does anybody have a pen?”

i grin as pope reaches into his bag and gives her a pink ball point and she grabs a post-it note. she scribbles something out for a second and then hands it to me.

𝒊, 𝒌𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒂, 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒚/𝒏 𝒚/𝒍/𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒔.

i hugged her, lifting my foot. “he’s working, right?”

she nods. “and wear a cute dress to make your ass look good. you know he used to fold over that.”

i try not to laugh, but i fail, slapping her on the back.

* sarah had come over to help me get ready.

i raise a necklace to the height of my shoulders, and then another one to the height of my shoulders. “which necklace? gold or silver?”

“with that red dress?” sarah asks, combing her hair out. “definitely gold. what are you even thinking?”

i sigh. “sorry, i’m not exactly a kooky fashionista. none of these kind of events have ever been offered to me. i’m a little nervous.”

she raises an eyebrow. “for being around kooks or being around jj?”

i giggle, turning around so sarah can put on my necklace. “and the dress? how does it look?”

i hear an exhale from behind me. “your ass looks good. jj will NOT handle you tonight.”

i suppress a laugh, hoping she’s right.

* i stand on the balcony with sarah who is biting her finger nails. “there he is.”

she points him out and my gaze follows. he looks so pretty.

i’ve never seen him that dressed up. i’ve never even seen him dressed up before, actually. he looks uncomfortable until he spots the bar, immediately turning to grab a drink.

my breath gets stuck in my throat and sarah has to slap my back before i breathe again. “you good?”

“yeah.. yeah, it’s just…” i stop myself. i can’t tell if it’s how he looks—breathtaking—or the way he chugs down beer after beer.

“he’s been doing that since the kegger. went straight back to the guest room at the chateau and just chugged.” sarah tells me.

i force a smile. “are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

she shrugs. “it’ll most likely be the only way for you to go down there and get your man.”

“i will. just give me some time.” i say and walk downstairs.

i avoid, at all costs, the bar. i even go near the bonfire and talk to some random kooks i’ve never heard of before finding kiara.

she’s dancing. she’s dancing with a random guy i’ve never seen before who really seems to like her. a little too much.

i gasp and pull her out of the crowd, bringing her into a little hallway. “kiara, what do i do?”

she squirms. “damn, firm grip!”

“how do i talk to jj?”

she shrugs. “just say any word and he’ll want to talk to you. you know how droolly he gets when you wear that dress.”

i bite my lip, trying to hide my smile, but i fail. “go. go dance, i’ll find him.”

she does so, running back inside to the man she was dancing with before. i straighten my dress with the sweaty palms of my hands before making my way to the bar.

i wish, for some reason, that this was a masquerade ball. anything to hide my face would be great. i spot a plant on the ledge of a table and grab it, hovering it over my face and continuing to walk.

i reach jj, who is smoking a joint right in front of me. i frown and grab his hand. he stumbles as i pull him away from everyone else.

still pulling him away from everyone else, i hear him chuckle. “there’s no need to hide your face, y/n, i can tell it’s you.”

i freeze and drop the pot as it shatters. i turn to him. “jj, can we please talk?”

he shrugs. “talk away.”

i take a deep breath. “jj, you are all that matters to me. i’ve spent every night since our breakup sulking in bed and only today have i decided to do something about it. figured out you’d be here and i did everything to see you because i learned that you’ve been drinking and—”

“who told you that?” he interrupted, clenching his jaw.

“the… the pogues. sarah really confessed to it, though.”

“damnit, y/n,” he groans. “it’s an addiction; it’s all because of you.”

i gasp. those are surely the worst words i have ever felt.

“maybe i am just like my dad, now, right?”

“jj,” i say, tears filling my eyes. “i was.. i was drunk, okay?”

he shrugs. “drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“damnit!”

“jj, please. you are all that matters to me; if not more. it hurts so bad. i have not gotten a full three hours of sleep since that night and it hurts so bad to do anything for myself. i cry for you, jj. i cry every night, remembering the words that i said.”

he had started crying now, too. “you ruined me!”

“jj, jj…jj.” i repeat, trying to find the right words. “i know. i’m going to help you, okay? i will do NOTHING but help you.”

he sobs. “i really am just like my dad.”

“you’re nothing like your dad. he’s terrible, okay? and you’re not. you could never be.” i pull him into a hug. i kiss his bicep, hoping he hugs me back.

reluctantly, he wraps his arms around me and kisses my head. “i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry i was so quick to get rid of you. i am so sorry i tried so hard to move on.”

“i’m sorry i got us into this mess,” i say, finally looking up at him. he lets out a sob once more before pulling me into a kiss.

“i was never mad at you,” he says, “that whole time, i only wanted you back. but i didn’t think you loved me anymore.”

“i do, jj,” i say. “i love you so much.”

“i love you, too.”

“and even though we’re not from figure eight, i will love you for what figure eight represents.”

he cringes and laughs. “i kinda get what that meant, but it was hella corny.”

i sigh, taking in the smell of him. this is definitely the happiest i’ve ever been.

[that-tmr-girl]

Crank {Part 1}

When getting infected leaves you with unusual side effects, Aris helps in a way only he can.

Fingering, oral, vaginal sex, slight overstimulation

There are a lot of side effects of becoming a Crank, some more talked about than others.

One that definitely isn't?

Constantly being in the mood.

I also didn't tell anyone. Not while we had to rescue Minho.

But damnit, I wanted to fuck Aris every time he was in the room. Just as long as I kept my shirt on.

And he looks so good. He already did, but he came back hotter than I could have expected.

Sitting on his lap, we were in the middle of a heavy makeout session when I started kissing his neck. Before I could do anything he pulled away.

“Y/N, I know something's wrong,”He started, making my heart beat too fast. Did he know? How? “You have never been this needy before. What happened?”

“Don't worry about it,”I said quickly, trying to push my lips against his only for him to pull away.

“I’m serious. Just in general too. You’ve been snappy and distant. What's going on?”He whispered, running his hands up my arms as he looked at me. As they brushed over the bite though, I winced and pulled away.

“Are you okay?”He asked quickly.

“Fine,”I mumbled.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Then, what happened?”He repeated.

“Drop it,”I demanded, trying to leave. Before I could walk out he pulled me back. Not giving me time to react, he pulled my sleeve up, revealing my bite. Snatching it down, I glared at him as he stood there frozen.

“I told you to drop it,”I scowled.

“Y/N-”

“No! You can fuck all the way off! Do you understand?! I told you not to, and you ignored me! Right in front of my face! I can't even stand to be around you right now! I don't-”

Before I could finish my sentence he pushed himself against me and pressed his lips against mine. Forgetting what we were arguing about, I kissed back as his hands were on my outer thigh.

“That's why you’ve been weird, isn't it?”He whispered, pulling away.

“Yeah. It is,”I admitted.

“And that's why you’ve been so needy,”He said, putting the pieces together. Giving nothing but a nod, I kept my eyes on the ground as I tried not to cry.

“Maybe one rough session will help? After that you can focus on the cure?”He suggested. Too caught up in the word rough, I nodded my head at the wonderful idea.

“Turn around for me,”He whispered, standing closer. Feeling my face flush as he kept his gaze on me, I did as he said, my body pressed against his. With his head on my shoulder he trailed his hand down my lower stomach, stopping just above my jean buttons. While giving my neck soft kisses he took his time undoing them before sliding his hand inside of me. Whispering sweet nothing's in my ear, he sent shivers down my neck as he traced my slit with his fingers. Holding back a sound, I closed my eyes as he kept teasing me until I was soaked.

“You're still my sweet girl, aren't you? Still my sweet, sweet girl?”He hummed, putting a finger inside of me. With my breathing getting shallow, I kept repeating his name as he started slowly pumping me while rubbing circles above my entrance with his thumb.

“Aris, please? Please don't tease me,”I begged. Sucking and nibbling on my skin, he put his other hand up my shirt, tracing his thumb over my nipple. At the same time he put another finger inside of me, causing strangled sounds to leave me. Curling them, he was as deep as I could ever need. At the same time he started gently pinching my nipple. With the pleasure making me want to collapse right then and there, my eyes rolled to the back of my head as the pressure built up in my stomach. Biting down on the side of my neck just enough to leave marks, he kept pumping me. With my legs threatening to give out, I kept myself against him as the pressure subsided, relief flooding my body as I dripped between his fingers.

Pulling them out, I heard him suck my juices off before he slipped my shirt over my head. Then, he put both his hands on the waistband of my jeans. Taking his time, he slowly pulled them off, his fingers making contact with my thighs. When they were halfway down my legs, I forced them down, putting them somewhere with my shirt. Then, I did the exact same thing with my underwear.

“Turn back around, okay?”He whispered in my ear. Agreeing, I was met with him cupping my face. Brushing his lips against mine, he kept me close to him. As I thought the kiss would get more heated he dropped to his knees. Almost instantly, he had his head between my thighs. Pressing his face into me, he grabbed my waist as he ate me out. Biting my lip to hold back noises, I tried not to cum yet as he flicked his tongue against my clit. Holding his hair, I lightly tugged on it as I needed something to hold. Moaning inside of me, he sent vibrations up my body. Barely even able to breathe, I whimpered at the pleasure. Knowing exactly what the sound was, he stuck his tongue inside of me. Swirling it around, he circled my walls as they clenched around him. While humming he thrust a finger into me, making me whimper. Bringing me closer, he removed his hands to repeatedly lick stripes up my slit. With a raspy moan, I unconsciousy pulled his hair as I came. Dragging his tongue along my skin and down my thighs, when he was satisfied he pulled away. Taking a seat on the table a few inches away from me, I kept my head back as I caught my breath.

“Come on. I know that you can take more, princess. I know how much you want to,”He whispered, keeping his hands on my thighs before pressing his lips back against mine. With my arms around his shoulders, he wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling me off before pushing me against the wall next to it. Nudging into me, he looked at me as he alined himself with my entrance. When I nodded my head he slammed into me, making me moan as he grabbed my ass to hold me up. Almost but not quite digging my nails into his skin, I held back my screams of pleasure as he sunk his teeth into my neck to muffle his own sounds. Moaning in his ear, I kept my legs around him as he thrust into me. Feeling him twitch, I turned my head and crashed my lips against his. Accepting it, he grunted into my mouth as he frantically increased his pace, causing the knot in my stomach to get worse. Pushing myself as close to him as possible, as he pulled out and slammed into me one last time we climaxed. Filling me up, he looked at the way our liquids dripped down my legs.

“Aris-”

“Shh. I’m looking at the way you get soaked when I make love to you,”He whispered, making my face heat up. With a nod, he pulled out and laid me on the table.

“What do you say? Can you take more?”

“I need more,”I demanded. Putting his hand on my shoulder and the other on my waist, he pushed into me. Throwing my head back, I kept my hands behind him as he moaned my name. Going faster, he pressed his chest against mine while still thrusting into me. Just as I was about to leave deep scratches I caught myself as I pulled away. Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on nothing but the overwhelming pleasure as he brought me closer.

But the way I had to watch my hands and where they were on my lover hurt me in a way I couldn't describe. I can't even have him make love to me without it affecting how I am. I just have to live with it, which may not even be that long.

“It's okay. You're okay,”He repeated in my ear. Still, his voice told me he wasn't just talking about how fast he was going, and he knew the tears on my face weren't from that. But for now, we pretended they were as he repeatedly slammed into me. With nothing but the sound of skin on skin and heavy breaths, I kept my eyes shut to keep my tears away as he twitched inside of me. With a half cry half whimper leaving me, I arched my back as my walls clenched around him. With one more needy thrust, I released on him. Pushing himself inside of me one last time, he buried his face in my neck as he came inside of me.

Staying still, we let our heavy breaths turn to soft cries. Staying in our positions, we let our bodies press against each other as we experienced a level of grief that nobody deserved to have. A mourning that we weren't sure if was needed but did just in case. A just in case that destroyed our souls.

But right now, that wasn't what needed to be said. Nothing about it did.

So instead I asked if he could make love to me again.

And despite our tears he said yes and did just that.

[valeria-garza-enjoyer]

I want to have you to myself for once

Valeria Garza x Reader.

She looks at you, eyes sunken in and dim, exhausted does not begin to describe how either of you feel.

“If they’re not here by tomorrow night, I-I…” You trail off, looking at her intently. “I don’t want you to die… so I want you to eat me.”

Or: You and Valeria get stranded, and in your last act of love and service to her, you offer her your body and blood. And she swallows you whole.

Based on Vore by Sleep Token.

MAJOR CW: cannibalism, murder, suicide.

Valeria is carried back by Diego once found. Her hands, almost to her elbows, covered in blood and peritoneal fluid, mouth stained by the maroon ichor and caked on her teeth. Splatters reach her eyes, clumping her lashes. Down her jaw, covering her neck, staining the neckline of her shirt.

Nothing reaches her eyes but the blood. No smiles, no screams, not even tears can reach her from here. Loaded on the helicopter, she looks down at the ground below her, thinking it would be a better fate to join you now than wait. To hold you in her arms once more, not stained in your gore. Diego wraps an arm around her shoulders tighter, a rare sign of affection he wouldn’t normally give. He knows this could be life or death, not holding Valeria down when they’re hundreds of feet in the air.

She gave the order to retreat, the Vaqueros could have this one. They could win the battle, but she would win the war. And she would win, there was no doubt. But as she was packing up and heading out, running with her men, she sees you. Her sweetheart, her bebita, was stuck under rubble. She breaks off and runs back to you, resting her hands on your shoulders.

“Baby? Baby!” She calls, slightly out of breath from the heat and intensity of the day. She shakes your shoulders, huffing. “We have to go, now! Can you walk?”

You cough up dust and debris, ground concrete filling your airways and ruining your lungs. Your entire abdomen below is stuck under hundreds of pounds of cement, and a feather’s touch would send it crushing you.

Valeria, normally cool and calm, is hysteric. She left her entire cartel behind just to save you. No idea where they are now, Vaquero’s probably still in the area, and you are stuck with no way out, she can’t think. She aimlessly pulls on your arms, hoping to pull you free and call it that, run after her men with you over her shoulder. But life is never that easy for a woman who has turned on everyone she knew. Karma was going to catch up to her, God was going to strike her down, and this is where. You were her ending, you were her penance and purgatory.

She sits there beside you, resting her head against yours as tears of frustration begin to fall, cleaning her face of the dust in tiny trails. She could never be mad at you, no no no. She’s mad at herself for letting you stray away, letting you continue fighting after you two fell in love, letting you in her heart in the first place.

“Are you okay, mi princesa?” She whispers softly, the only way to keep her voice from cracking. “Are you in pain like I am?”

Your words are hushed and indeed pained, a grimace on your face as the rebar and chunks of concrete press down on your feet, cutting off circulation slowly. You try to wiggle your feet out, and scream as the concrete slams down on your toe.

“Val!” You cry, thrashing and clawing at her vest. There’s a primal look in your eyes, but it’s not the kind that makes her shiver and devour you like a man starved. It’s primal fear, so basic and simple that it scares her back. “Get me out!”

“Darling, please, I don’t want to hurt you!” She pleads, placing her hands over yours and squeezing them. “Please don’t make me hurt you…”

“If I’m going to be in pain, I’d rather you cause it, damnit!” You hiss back, pulling her vest so she leans into you. “Just get me out of here!”

“Okay, okay okay okay, just…” Valeria huffs, looking over the situation. She knows not even an army could get you out of this, how is she meant to do it on her own?

She pushes up on the lower edge of the broken slab, inching it up with all her might. She slows, holding it up with her back. It’s just enough room for you to start wriggling yourself out. You pull on your foot, falling out onto the ground. She lets the rubble fall and pulls you into her arms, letting out a breath she was barely aware of, pressing you to her chest.

“I-” Valeria starts to laugh, and you laugh, too. Shock and hysteria prevail. She sits on the ground, pulling you in and l rubbing your back, keeping your head cradled to her chest. Above all else, her priority is to keep you safe and calm. And since she’s already failed at the first one, she might as well try to accomplish the second one. “Bebita, you’re okay, we’re okay. See? Both fine.” She murmurs, repeating fragments of the sentence over and over, maybe more so to soothe herself.

After some time has passed, she looks at you, tears welling up in her eyes once more. There’s nothing around here. No bases nearby, no cities to walk to safely, nothing. And with her radio broken and phone with no service, she’s shit out of luck. You both are shit out of luck. She knows the general direction that her men went in, but would you two be able to catch up with them? Would you be able to stay up with her with what was probably a broken foot or toe? She certainly wouldn’t leave you behind when she didn’t even know where she really was, there was no way she’d know how to get back to you or find you.

“Valeria…” You whisper after a small coughing fit, hopefully forcing the last of the dust from your lungs. “Where… where are we?”

She doesn’t have an answer to that.

Valeria purses her lips and hums, looking around nervously. It’s not normal for her to be nervous. She’s always the level headed one of the relationship, but now? With nowhere to go and no one to help? Nothing but the clothes on your backs? Even the toughest crack a little under these conditions.

“I don’t really know, preciosa.” She finally pushes past her teeth and tied tongue, the words sounding weird and breathy. “I really don’t know.”

The sky starts to darken, the chill setting in quickly. She hugs you tighter and lays against the rubble, cocooning you in and trying to keep the heat between the two of you in this isolated, abandoned town.

The night is long, unfortunately. Constantly getting woken up by gusts of wind pushing and pulling at you, biting your skin in the thin, breathable layers meant for the daylight only, chilling you inside and out. And when the wind dies down and Hypnos is about to let the two of you find rest once more, the coyotes start to yip, each time getting closer and louder until it’s as if they’re on the opposite side of the building you two lay against.

You curl into her side and whimper after the fourth time getting woken up by the howling of the feral. You blink, barely able to see Valeria in the pale moonlight. She’d look like an angel if she didn’t have stress permanently etched onto her face right now.

“Do you think we’re gonna make it out, Valeria?”

“We can’t afford to think like that, sweetheart. We’re gonna make it out.”

“Valeria.”

“We will make it out.”

She pulls you tight, breathing in the remnants of your shampoo and perfume. Her eyes water and she blinks them away, burying herself in your warmth and willing herself to sleep this nightmare away.

When day breaks, the chill finally leaving your bones, She looks around the brightening horizon. Nothing in any direction. Nothing for miles. Nothing. Just nihil, nihil, nihil. She sighs, stands up and walks around, looking at what little tracks stayed intact over the windy night. Footprints going in all directions, the indents of where tires once rested, but no clear direction. Valeria huffs, looking through abandoned buildings on the brink of collapsing in on her, looking for any resources. Some have empty cans in them and wrappers of old soldiers MRE’s. Some have rats feasting on their dead friends in desperation, some are made more of cobwebs than concrete. She’s shit out of luck again. She comes back to you and kneels to you, kissing your dusty and cracked knuckles. Your ankle is swollen, your knee bruising something fierce.

“Think you can walk chula?” She whispers, looking over the other bruises making themselves known. It’s not that Valeria wants you to walk. No, if she had it her way, you’d be wrapped in the finest silks in her mansion, never to taste iron in your mouth or gunpowder up your nose again. You’d be her belle of the ball until time simply stopped.

You try to put weight on your leg once she stables you on your feet, but your leg simply crumples. The ankle rolls on impact with the ground, pain shooting from your toes and knee joining your ankle in collapsing. You cling to her, fingers gripping her vest and begging for respite. Valeria shushes your whimpers and lays you back down in the shade, kissing your forehead.

“I’m going to survey over that hill, okay? If there’s anything I see I’m coming back to grab you. I don’t care if that means I carry you on my shoulder the entire time, I’m not leaving you, baby. Just stay put, please. If I’m not back by sundown go hide in a building, some of them look pretty secure.”

You nod reverently, sitting up to press a kiss to her chapped lips. Valeria sighs and kisses you back, cupping your cheek for a moment before letting go, patting your jaw as she leaves the safety of your lips. You two make eye contact. Two sets of tear stained eyes, two sets of cheeks, caked with sand and powdery concrete, sunburns starting to develop on both your faces, lips chapped to the point of blistering.

Valeria makes the trek to the hill, sighing as she looks over the new horizon in front of her. In the distance she thinks she sees something dark, too dark to be a plant or more desert. It has to be water or more buildings, but she can’t take that risk. She’d die making that walk with you over her shoulder, and she knows the two of you have about a good day in a half before dehydration becomes a genuine problem. She cusses under her breath, fishing in her pocket for her phone, desperate for a signal.

She gasps.

SOS.

No cellular signal, no wifi, no satellite. But She’s still somewhere close enough to a tower to get an SOS signal through. Who will it reach though?

She doesn’t have time to think about that when she dials Diego, praying it’ll get through. After the third ring, it picks up.

“Diego. Dime que puedes encontrar las coordenadas de este teléfono, por favor.” She doesn’t even wait for him, the words rushing out without thought.

A beat goes by.

“Cortaste, ¿qué dijiste?”

Her heart sinks. She has to get this through, she can’t let the call drop. She can’t.

“¡Rastrea mi ubicación!” She yells clearly into the phone as the wind picks up, tears of frustration and helplessness stinging her eyes. Please, please please please-

“On it.”

Oh thank God. Valeria stays on the line, constantly shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“Sending Perez’s group, Señor.” Diego mumbles. She sighs in relief, laughing hysterically and gushing her thanks as the call drops. She runs back to the abandoned city and rushes to you, bringing you into her arms.

“I had enough signal to get a call through, amorcito. They’re coming for us.” She whispers, giddy and out of breath. She kisses you repeatedly, peppering your cheeks with soft pecks. You giggle softly, kissing her back and wrapping your arms around her neck.

Except a day goes by.

And both your throats are starting to seriously dry up and there’s no sign of Perez’s team. Valeria paces around all day outside, making short, quick loops around the small town, praying she’ll see a few armored trucks drive up and call for her. But they never come.

She collapses next to you that night, both your stomachs rumbling and eyes starting to sink in, Valeria looking particularly dizzy. She rests her head on your shoulder, moaning quietly as her head continues to make circles her body stopped hours ago.

Dehydration is a bitch.

The next morning comes and you wake up, Valeria already gone. In her state? Both of you severely dehydrated and in pain? She’s going to die out there! You crawl, limping to the opening of the building, looking around. Valeria rushes close to you, eyes dry and dazed, pupils blown wide. She looks hysteric.

“Bebita!” She laughs, picking you up and throwing you over her shoulder, ignoring the pain in her limbs and the hiss of pain that comes from you. “I saw them! I swear I saw Martinez’s team! They’re here, just over the hill!”

Wasn’t it Perez’s team?

“Valeria, honey, please calm down. You need rest!” You whisper, voice cracking slightly. You pound your fists against her back, begging her to let you down. This isn’t her, she isn’t here. Her eyes when she picked you up were crazed and distant, skin sickly and dry, fingers shaking and legs swaying. She stops mid-way to the hill, looking over at you, setting you down in the dirt. Her eyes focus for a moment before she sighs, shaking her head and picking you back up, heading back to the building you two were perched in.

“I’m so sorry, honey… I’ve failed you so badly…” She whispers, voice hoarse. If only she had the tears to express her pain, but the look in her eyes and tone in her voice are enough. She sets you back down in the corner you two will call home and your eternal resting site soon.

The two of you sit in silence, looking over your bodies as the day goes on, trying to commit every last piece of skin to memory. As the sun sets, both your sets of eyes getting hazy and blurry, you finally utter the words that have been on your tongue all day.

“Valeria… I don’t want you to die.”

“We are not going to die, love.”

“I don’t want you to die, though.”

She looks at you, eyes sunken in and dim, exhausted does not begin to describe how either of you feel.

“If they’re not here by tomorrow night, I-I…” You trail off, looking at her intently. “I don’t want you to die… so I want you to eat me.”

Valeria gasps, eyes widening horribly so.

“No, no way! I could never! I would rather die than do such a thing!”

“Valeria we are running out of time and I don’t want you to die!”

“They’ll come tomorrow!”

“So I’m planning for if they don’t!”

“No, that is final, cariño.”

“Valeria I love you! Let me service you this one last time, please! Let me have my last moments being loved so wholly you live off of me!” You cry out, hugging her so tightly you feel your lungs ache from the pressure. She sobs in unison with you, hugging you back just as tightly.

“Fine. If they… don’t… come tomorrow night, I will. I will.”

You smile weakly and shuffle into her lap, coughing quietly and laying your head against her chest. She cards a hand through your hair and looks down at you, gnarly whines and pitiful wails bubbling up, begging to be released. But she holds them down, locking them away for when you two are saved.

But that never comes, not for you at least.

The next day comes and goes, and by the end of the night, she’s forcing back sobs as she holds you. Her fingers claw into your back, face buried into your neck, body wrapped around yours.

“I can’t do it, amor. I can’t.” Valeria whispers, sobs bubbling up freely as she looks you over. “You’re my everything…”

“So make me a part of you.” You whisper back, just as quiet as her. “Welcome me in.”

She looks at you and nods wordlessly. Her knife lays strapped onto her thigh, warm against her skin after the long day. When morning comes she will wrap her hands around her knife and crack your sternum open, looking for anything she can eat from you. But tonight, she holds you close under the night sky, knowing this is the last time you will be in her arms, living and breathing and loving.

Well, you’ll always love her. And she’ll always love you.

Under the cover of nightfall, she wraps her body around yours, kissing you with as much strength as she can muster, forging your souls together and minds into one. Her hands, shaky and desperate, ride up your shirt, cupping at the bottom of your bra and squeezing oh so gently. Your hands find their way to her hips, sliding under her cargos and resting, squeezing just the same as hers, on the fat of her hips. Teeth clash, tongues tied, eyes open and drinking in what little of the other they can see.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The day of rapture comes. Valeria starts to undo all your tactical gear, slipping your vest off and sliding your shirt off your body, unclipping your bra as well. Her hands find your cargos and she unbuttons them, pushing them and your panties down to your boots. She unties your boots and makes sure you’re bare for her to see. One last time.

Valeria unsheaths the sharp blade from her thigh and grips it in both hands, looking down at your soft body. She has to do this, she must survive.

“I love you so much, cariño.”

“I love you, too, Valeria.”

Her knife plunges horizontally through your chest, puncturing your lung and diving straight into your heart. The gasp that falls from your lips, the gasp of pure shock and adrenaline, makes a sob wretch from her own lips.

“¡Te amo, lo siento! ¡Te amo, lo siento! ¡Te amo, lo siento!” She sobs, pulling her knife out and forcing it into your sternum, cracking it in one sick thud and slicing the layers of tissue that protect it. She cuts down your abdominal cavity, sobbing and laughing as the blood gushes from you. Liquid, she thinks, but she knows somewhere deep down that even if blood didn’t dehydrate her more the action of drinking your blood would only kill her inside.

Regardless, though, she finds herself lapping up the fountains of ichor spilling from you. And liquid is liquid when you’re about to die of dehydration. She drinks until the supply on your stomach trickles to a stop, in which she comes up to your breast, kissing the pert nipple before lapping at the hole of her original incision. Her tongue slips in just barely and she pulls it out immediately, getting the taste of genuine fat on her tongue.

Her hands, a little more steady with some liquid in her, pry at your exposed sternum, grunting as she pulls it apart and looks at your heart. She stares at it, pulling at it and gently cutting the arteries away so she can hold it.

“Oh, mi corazón…” Valeria whispers, kissing your heart. She puts it back in, saving it for last. For now, she focuses on the meat in front of her, the ichor before her, spilling over her and the ground.

Like the butcher she is, she cuts away at your body, sobbing as she gnaws on your flesh and bone, chews on your raw meat and spits out gristle and fat. She tears at your thighs, kissing the insides of them before taking her first bite. As much as she doesn’t want to do this, she understands. She’s welcoming you in, swallowing you whole, making the two of you one.

She cuts away at every soft part of your body, harvesting what she can eat and scarfing it down over your open carcass. Your intestines are gently thrown to the side so she doesn’t threaten to spoil your meat. But then she sees it as she’s cutting your vaginal canal away to clump all your intestines out.

Your womb.

She throws the guts to the side and sifts through them, holding your womb in gentle, blood soaked hands. Her eyes tear up for the first time in days as she sobs once more. You two were talking about settling down, about doing surrogacy or adopting. About finally stepping away from the cartel like she wanted to, about hiding far away in the mountainside and keeping you as hers and hers alone.

Well. You are hers and hers alone now.

She finally circles back to your heart, now cold. She squeezes it gently and brings it to her lips, sinking her teeth in and biting down as hard as she can. She forces your ribs to move and curls up in your emptied body, gnawing on your heart, warming up in her hands.

Valeria’s never felt more close to you, unfortunately.

She sobs into your neck, kissing at the cold, unforgiving and unmoving skin. She begs to hear your heartbeat, begs to feel you breathe or see you smile. Her hands claw at your spine, running her hands over it like she used to, now inside and out.

“Please, mi preciosa, you’re all I have… please…” Valeria whispers brokenly, clawing at your well loved body. “You’re all I need.”

“Valeria?”

She cries softly, tears staining your face set in stone. They came. Had she just waited, like a sane person, she’d be laughing and kissing you and helping you walk to the car or helicopter. She screams loudly, a blood curdling, glass shattering, earth ending scream as she bashes her head into your sharp spine, begging for you to take her with you into the afterlife.

Diego and the men behind him grimace, but he advances, slipping his arms under her armpits and wrapping them around her shoulders, forcefully pulling the lovelorn, ichorous filled Valeria away. One last sob falls from her lips as she looks at your empty body,

“No, no, Diego, grab her!” She screams, reaching out for her other half, flailing with renewed strength. Diego just sighs and tugs her closer, walking to the helicopter. He mumbles something to one of the men behind him to grab the body and put it in a bag. He wouldn’t want to piss off his boss on a regular day, but when she’s like this? He’d rather be safe than sorry.

She looks down at the ground below her, getting smaller and less defined. And with one swift motion, her other knife plunges into Diego’s leg, and she jumps out of the open door of the helicopter.

She’s with you again. Never to be separated from her other half.

----

been listening to vore (sleep token) a lot lately and it just popped in my head. No, i will NOT be paying for anyones therapy. That includes you Nex.

Idea: Listening to vore again. Thinking of a one shot where valeria and you are stuck and in the end you let her eat you so she can live and she never recovers.

have a good day. I hope you hate me.

[beatlesgrl]

Take My Breath Away

I saw this prompt “You’re possessed by a demon. You quickly realize he’s never done this before.” on my Facebook and I can’t get this out of my head so here. Also like. It’s clearly not finished and I’m pretty sure I won’t get a chance to so here for my fellow Sterek lovers.

Derek Hale knew his luck was low, but waking up to an extra voice in his head that was definitely not his, he knew that it must be practically non-existent.

“Hello?” He murmured, still fighting the urge to fall back asleep. 

The voice stopped talking to itself, and in his head he felt it freaking out. 

Hard to imagine why it was freaking out when it was in Derek’s mind but whatever he just wanted to know what was going on. 

“Ummm...” The voice said, “I’m here to...take...your...soul?” 

The voice sounded distinctly male, and unsure. The threat of taking Derek’s soul didn’t stop him from saying back, “You sound pretty confident there.”

“...Are you sassing a demon right now?” The voice said back, clear aghast in its voice, “Most people who I possess are scared at the very least, at the very most terrified and crying by this point.” 

Derek rolled his eyes and turned to his side, “As long as you don’t wake me back up I don’t care.”

He fell asleep before he could hear a response. 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

So here’s why Derek’s luck was so...well bad. 

His first girlfriend, Paige, was killed after she was bitten by an Alpha, and Derek had to help her die so she wouldn’t be in pain. 

His second girlfriend, Kate, tricked him into loving her, only to burn his house down and killing his family.

His third girlfriend, Jennifer, used her magic to blind him by love to kill the remainder of his family, Cora and Laura, and was starting on his pack before they all got wise and killed her instead. 

And his pack that he had built after becoming Alpha...well they didn’t notice that he wasn’t doing ok. 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 The demon in Derek’s head was clearly new to this possession thing. It almost made Derek feel bad for it. 

He was making bacon, and he felt it try to take over Derek’s limbs, claiming that Derek was burning the bacon and it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t even cook it properly. The problem was, Derek was able to fight it every time it even tried. 

That made it furious. 

“God damnit, Derek, I have a name, I’ve told you to call me Stiles.”

And he refused to call hi-it by its name. It was a demon, it didn’t need his sympathy.

And he burnt the bacon just to spite this thing in his brain. 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Hey Derek, turn the channel, I fucking hate Gordon Ramsey.”

Derek didn’t really like him either, but he turned up the volume anyways.

The voice scoffed in his head, “C’mon dude, cut me some slack, I can’t change it myself.” As if to prove it, it picked up Derek’s arm, only for Derek to push it down with his other hand.

He still wasn’t that great at controlling him. 

“You could just leave then you wouldn’t have to watch this show.” Derek said back.

He felt it roll its eyes somehow, “I told you, I’m here for your soul. Work with me here, can’t go back without it.”

“And I told you,” Derek said back, “You will be here for a while if you have that attitude.” 

The voice sighed, “Look, I know my methods are...unorthodox...but I’m ne-pretty sure its effective so-”

Derek laughed, “Pretty sure it isn’t considering you can’t even fully possess my body.” 

The voice murmured under its breath, the words “alpha” and “jackass” prominent words in his complaints.

Derek bit back a smile and changed the channel. Not even spite could keep him watching Ramsey. 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Soon, though, Derek had to admit it was...kinda nice to have someone to always talk to. 

His pack was always gone, doing who knows what. He knew that Erica and Boyd worked at the local drive-in, and it helped that they had heightened senses so they could sense the troublemakers and get them out of there quickly. Isaac worked with Deaton at the vet clinic, and was trailing after Scott most of the time. And Scott...the beta that got away. He currently had a psudo-pack with the Argents (which no.) and Kira, his current girlfriend. Isaac kept acting like he was going to join which...Derek wasn’t going to think about.

The constant voice in his head made him feel better.

“Sooooooooo...” The voice in his head said one day as Derek was reading a book, “Where is your pack anyways?” 

Derek turned the page, ignoring him. 

“Cause I’m not gonna lie,” it continued, “I thought as an Alpha wolf, you’d see your pack more often.”

Derek kept reading. He promised himself if he finished that chapter before dinner he would reward himself with Indian takeout rather than Chinese takeout, which is what he normally got. 

He felt it poke Derek. How he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t feel an actual poke, but he felt it with his brain, “Hey I’m talking to you sourwolf, least you can do is respond.” 

“You’re the one in my brain,” Derek replied, about to turn the page, “Can’t you access those memories by yourself?” 

There was a pause, and Derek felt the worst headache suddenly explode right behind his eyes. His vision went white, and he felt himself start to growl and his claws piercing his book. 

“Stiles!” He found himself shouting. He dropped his book and grabbed the sides of his head, “Stiles stop!” 

As soon as it came, it left, and he felt guilty vibes coming from...Stiles. 

“I’m so sorry!” Stiles exclaimed, “I didn’t realize it would cause that much pain!” 

Derek brought his hands down, but he could tell he was definitely still wolfie, “No shit, what the fuck.” He saw blood on his hands, and he could tell that his face had claw marks because he could feel the skin stitching itself together. Like he was trying to claw out his own brain. 

More guilt poured out of Stiles, and now he even felt sadness, “I’m so sorry.” 

Derek growled and picked up his book to examine the damage. Clawed completely though, and Derek couldn’t even open the book without hearing ripping and tears. He resigned himself to not knowing the ending until he can get a new book.

He felt Stiles pouting, and then his presence was gone. Like he decided to hide. 

Derek sighed and went to go take a shower.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Later that day, as Derek was ordering his Indian food (hey the book got ruined that means he finished his chapter. Plus he was traumatized, sue him), when he heard the doorbell ring.

Now Stiles wasn’t lying when he was talking about his pack and not seeing them. They almost never came over to his house. He bought it a couple years ago when his sisters were still alive, and there was plenty of room for all of them to move in and then some. Back when he had hope he wouldn’t be a fuck up and have a strong pack. It backed up into the preserve, he had no neighbors, and it was filled with natural light.

And they’ve only been there twice since he moved in, one of those times was when he was unconscious after fighting a wendingo. 

So to hear his doorbell out out here made him suspicious, but as he went to answer, he grew more suspicious when he saw a delivery guy holding out something for him. It looked like a rectangular shaped item wrapped in brown paper.

“Hello?” Derek asked, but the delivery guy just shook his head and shoved the package into Derek’s hands before walking away. 

He looked down at the package and shrugged. Using his claws, he sliced open the paper. What it uncovered was the book he had ruined earlier. He examined the book to try to find a clue as to where it came from, and he found it on a hastily written note on the inside cover. 

‘Hey, sorry about the book. Hopefully this helps. Stiles’ 

Derek had noticed that Stiles was still quiet, but he didn’t think much of it before. Now, though, it made him feel kind of lonely. 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Stiles was back, though, the next morning, when Derek woke up. He felt the hesitation, like Stiles didn’t feel invited. 

Because Derek doesn’t do well with feelings, he just grunted and fell back asleep. 

Stiles must’ve gotten the message, though, because when Derek got up later that day, Stiles was back to his ramble-y self. 

Derek hid his relieved smile.

[velvette3]

(3/29/24)

Why do I feel sad for no reason sometimes? It’s like a sick fuckin joke I swear. Today was such a great and productive day too! My boyfriend is as loving as ever, and he even bought me something! My OC got drawn by someone else so wonderfully and I couldn’t even do her justice w/ her of design! That art is just amazing and beautiful, and it makes me happy!

But yet I feel so sad, like I’m missing something. Maybe it’s just the lingering of my great grandma passing a few months back, but I don’t think so.

My birthday is coming up, I’m excited. I really am, I know for sure at least one thing that is on its way! First time in a few years that I’m excited for my birthday, honestly.

But I just feel sad. Idk, kinda worthless? I love helping people but damnit just seeing those around me struggling, and me not knowing how to help. It’s killing me I think. I’m just glad these are staying in drafts (unless I decide in a half asleep haze to actually post this fuck shit)

I just wanna help people so bad but I’m not able to yet. It’s killing me. I want to help people, I do and helping people makes me so, so happy! It’s what kept me going for a long time. But for that majority of this year, I haven’t been able to help people, and time has gone by too quick. Way too quick. It’s killing me, knowing how fast time is going and how little time I have left in a relaxing life. How little time I may have with people I love. My grandmother on my father’s side isn’t even 20 years younger than the great grandma I lost this year. I’m so scared to lose my Grandma J. I don’t know what I’ll do, and it’s going to be hard once she’s gone, especially when I visit my father.

It’s even worse when there is so much I can’t say to her, and how often I hear her say horrifying things.

I can’t tell her I’m Ace Pan-romantic because she’s Christian, and she talks about death and heaven so casually. I don’t know what’s gonna happen and I’m so, so scared.

So much is just there, and I’m losing so much time. I can’t help people like I want to because I don’t have the time, I can’t spend time with those I love because of how much shit I have to do with my schooling and freaking out about my future (even though it’s already here almost).

Another year I’ve wasted almost, and it’s just moving too quick.

The few things I’m grateful for in this though, are a few people, and my own stubbornness. My boyfriend, god I love him so much. I haven’t said it to him yet, no with the language we speak (English) and I don’t know why. Maybe I’m scared. But I do love him so much. My older brother, E. He’s been there since day one and is so supportive of me. May he be happy in his relationship as it is for him! I love those two shithead so much, and I can’t wait to see my brother again soon, and my boyfriend Just tomorrow maybe!

And my own stubbornness. It’s been almost (at midnight it will be) 191 days since I intentionally self harmed

^ that was the math for months. I am halfway to my head long goal of no self harm, and that has kept me going as well. My stubborn self, whenever I think of self harming, practically on the verge of just doing it, I say I can’t. I’ll be crying and weeping, wishing for pain, but I still can’t bring myself to do it because I promised myself I’d go a year AT LEAST. It’s kept me from giving in, thank god.

But I don’t know, with all of this, even with those few people, if I can do it. I came so close, so so close to giving into the thoughts and shit recently. I’m starting to scare myself. I don’t know what I’m doing, and it’s killing me. Ever since my third grade years, I was horrible when it came to control. That’s when my self harm started, in third fucking grade because I thought I could’ve preventing certain things from happening, had I tried harder. Ever since then I’ve been so hard on myself but FUCK I need to, I deserve it because I’ve let people down so many times, I’ve disappointed so many people so much.

But I dunno. I dunno why I’m so sad when today was so good for me (3/29/24)

I dunno anymore, I just want to help people so bad, I want time to slow down. I want to feel whole. Helping people helps me, and my mentality, so much. But I don’t have the time to help others anymore and it’s so hard to find people to help when everyone has such outta wack time zones.

(3/30/24)

Time is passing too quick and it’s terrifying. On top of that, I’m so scared that if I mess up in my schooling (online schooling anyways) that my parents will call me outta the blue and yell and shit. I remember very vividly back in middle school how I got like, 2-4 states mixed up on my US states quiz that I cried. I cried so hard, fearing that my mother would be angry over a topic I should know well since this is the very country we live in. Thankfully, she wasn’t.

As of now, the grades I’m getting are decent. All A’s, all year round. But I’m struggling in my Spanish. Sure, they may have been more positive about my grades here recently because of the fact that I’m towards the top of my class, but that’s not the point.

Then being happy about it sometimes makes it worse. I fear if I slip even the slightest, their expectations, if I fail them, they’ll be angry again.

I’m so scared to impress them, that I’m making it harder for me because I do so well. I know I do decently, but because of the fact that I rarely mess up, the times that I do, are impactful.

It’s awful, really. I should be happy about my success but it’s just giving me hella anxiety.

I guess this is just a journal now? Meh, it might as well be. Drafts stay drafts, after all.

(Yeah I think this is draft #16?)

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers CHAOS LINEAGE ー Subaru [07]

ー The scene starts in the hallway of the Violet Manor

*CLANG*

Ayato: Fuck! We’re not gettin’ anywhere like this!

I don’t like havin’ to rely on cheap tricks like this, but I guess I have no other choice if I want to steal Eve away.

*Rustle*

Subaru: What is he holdin’...?

...! Oi, get down on the floor!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah...! W-What!?

Subaru: It’s a bomb! Fuck! I didn’t know he had a trick like that up his sleeve!

Oi, don’t stand there frozen in place but get away! Before the next bomb comes flyin’ our way!

Yui: ...!?

( I have to run! But how? My body won’t move...! )

Ayato: Orah! Here comes the next one!

Subaru: Watch out...!

*Thud*

*BOOM*

Subaru: Ow...!

( I managed to protect her from the bomb, but my whole body’s covered in wounds... )

Yui: Subaru-kun...? I’m so sorry, Subaru-kun! Don’t tell me you protected me...!?

Subaru: Fuck...

Yui: Are you alright!? You’re badly wounded...!

Ayato: ...Che. You’re still not dead?

Subaru: Oi, Ayato! Have you lost your fuckin’ mind!? What were you thinkin’, throwin’ those at Eve!?

If she dies, kuh...

( She dies...? )

ー Subaru starts remembering

Yui: What’s wrong, Subaru-kun? Are you okay? Hang in there...!

Subaru: ( No, she can’t! I definitely won’t let her die! )

ー He continues to have flashbacks of his past memories

Subaru: ーー Uu...

Yui: What’s the matter? Do your wounds hurt...!?

Subaru: ...Uu...That’s not...it...

( I told myself that I would love her forever. )

( She agreed to that as well, and that’s how... )

*Riiiing*

Subaru: ( Damnit! What are these strange images? I shouldn’t know this place, yet it seems familiar... )

*Riiiing*

*SHATTER*

Subaru: Aah, aaaah!!

Yui: Subaru-kun...?

Subaru: ...Haah...Haah.

...You’re not Eve...

Your name...isn’t Eve...

You’re not Eve, right...!? Yui...!

Yui: ...!

Subaru: I promise that at the very least...

I’ll keep you...safe...

ー He collapses

*Thud*

Yui: Subaru-kun!?

Subaru-kun, hang in there! Please, open your eyes...!

Subaru: ...

Hah...I can hear you, no need to shout like that...

I’m right here. So don’t cry, ‘kay...?

Yui: Yeah, I know. You’re here with me. Hey, since you called my name earlier...

*Boom*

Yui: ( Another explosion!? But it came from where Ayato-kun is, didn’t it...!? )

Subaru: Damnit! These footsteps...The enemies have gathered here?

I can’t be saved at this point, but you should make a run for it...!

Yui: No way, I can’t do that! I could never leave you behind...!

???: Exactly! We have to bring both of you to safety~

Yui: ( The enemy’s already here...!? But this voice is... )

Subaru: Kou...

Kou: Ding-Ding! Spot on! Kou-kun to the rescue~!

Are you alright, Subaru-kun?

Laito: Oh? You don’t see Subaru-kun taken down and covered in blood like that every day.

Azusa: Sorry for...taking so long. I’m glad...we made it on time...But you’re injured...

Yui: He protected me from Ayato-kun’s attack...Speaking of which, where is Ayato-kun!?

Kou: Aah, Ayato-kun’s taking a little break over on the floor after getting hit by our bomb attack. ...Wait, he got back up already.

*Rustle*

Ayato: Shit...! Fuck off, you bastards!

Laito: Wow~ What a tough cookie.

Azusa: Laito and I will stop him...Kou, you take care of Subaru...

Kou: Yeah, gotcha. Eve, can you update me on his condition?

Yui: He took a bomb for me. He was still conscious up till now, but he seems to have passed out now...

Subaru: ...

Kou: I see. ...Honestly, these injuries aren’t looking good.

Yui: No way...

Kou: Anyway, you should run away with me while Azusa-kun and Laito-kun are keeping Ayato busy!

Yui: But Subaru-kun is...!

Kou: Don’t worry! I’ll carry him, no problem!

If I lift him into my arms bridal-style...He’ll probably yell at me for it later soーー

*Rustle*

Kou: I’ll run while carrying him on my back like this! Come on, you can run as well, right?

Yui: Yeah! Thanks, Kou-kun!

Monologue

The people from the Orange House

launched an attack on the Violet manorーー

This is not just another brotherly quarrel,

I simply cannot forget about the look in Subaru-kun and Ayato-kun’s eyes,

as they faced off against each other.

Thanks to Kou-kun who came to our rescue,

we somehow managed to carry an unconscious Subaru-kun,

back to his room.

Afterwards I found out,

that due to Carla-san, Laito-kun and Azusa-kun’s efforts,

they were successful,

in driving off the Orange House.

Peace and quiet returned to the Violet manor.

However, Subaru-kun has remained in a deep slumber,

not having opened his eyes even once ever since.

ー The scene shifts to Subaru’s room in the Violet manor

Yui: ( Even though the others are saying his wounds aren’t fatal, he’s been asleep the whole time. )

( What will I do if he never wakes up again? )

( ...It’s my fault. Because I held him back at that time. )

( I’m positive he wouldn’t have gotten this badly injured if he didn’t have to worry about also keeping me safe while fighting. )

I’m sorry, Subaru-kun.

I truly regret doing this to you.

...Besides, if I had managed to convince everyone of the weird shenanigans going onーー 

Then perhaps you guys would have never fought at all. 

I’m so sorry. I should have tried harder to look for a way to return to our old World...

ー She grabs hold of his hand

Yui: Subaru-kun’s hands are so big...These are the hands which protected me.

Not just since we came here, but for the longest time.

Subaru: ...Ugh.

Yui: ( His hand, just now...I believe the hand I grabbed moved a little just now! )

Subaru-kun, can you hear me, perhaps?

Hey, Subaru-kun...

*Rustle* 

Subaru: ...Nn...

Pipe down...I can hear you just fine, no need to shout my name over and over.

Yui: Subaru-kun! You’re awake!

Thank god...! I’m so glad you’ve regained consciousness!

Subaru: God, don’t cry.

I’ve told you before, haven’t I? It takes more than this to kill a Vampire. 

Yui: Before...?

( He hasn’t told me that at this place, has he? )

Right, when you protected me, you said my name...didn’t you?

I was quite shaken up back then as well, so at first I thought that perhaps I imagined it but...

Subaru: You’re not imagining anything, Yui.

...My bad. For forgetting about you.

Yui: Subaru-kun...!

Subaru: Seems like the other guys haven’t realized that something is off either.

It must have been lonely, right? Left all on our own.

Selection

→ The anxiety drove me crazy (🖤)

Yui: Yeah...I didn’t know what to do, it drove me absolutely crazy.

Subaru: Makes sense. I’m sorry, truly...

Yui: But now that you have your memories back, I feel relieved.

I won’t have to worry about how to tackle this strange situation all by myself no longer.

→ Don’t apologize (♡)

Yui: Please, Subaru-kun, don’t apologize.

I have no idea why all of this is happening to us.

But you haven’t done anything wrong, have you? If anything, you kept me safe.

Subaru: ...But I gotta say sorry or else it’ll haunt me forever.

Yui: Sounds very much like you.

Subaru: The fact that I couldn’t be there for you when you needed it the most pisses me off immensely.

I’m hella mad at myself for just losin’ like my memories like that.

Yui: I’m not alone anymore now. That alone is incredibly reassuring.

Besides, you got your memories back...I’m super happy you’ll treat me as your girlfriend again.

Subaru: ...I feel as if a pressure has been lifted off me as well.

While my memories were still jumbled up, I got really irritated whenever the other guys would come after you.

I guess it only makes sense. Somewhere in the very back of my mind, I remembered that I didn’t want to lose you.

ー Subaru embraces her

*Rustle*

Subaru: You are mine. Right?

Yui: ...Yes, exactly.

Fufu...It feels like forever since you last held me in your arms like this.

I’m so happy, my heart’s racing.

Subaru: Don’t tempt me too much...by sayin’ those sort of things. Don’t blame me for the consequences.

Yui: I don’t care. ...Right now, I just want to be with you. I felt lonely for the longest time after all.

Subaru: ...Yeah, makes sense.

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Subaru-kun....He’s hugging me so tight, I almost can’t breathe. )

( I guess he’s trying to make up for my loneliness. )

( I’m sure he feels sorry for everything he did while he could not remember me. )

( I love how he’s kind like that. )

Subaru: Say, Yui?

Yui: ...Yes?

Subaru: Let me suck your blood. I’ll make you feel amazing to make up for all the sadness you had to endure.

So, you don’t mind, right?

Yui: ...Sure, go ahead.

I kind of want you to suck my blood as well. Perhaps it’ll help your injuries heal faster as well.

Subaru: Yeah, maybe.

*Rustle*

Subaru: Come on, I’ll suck from your shoulder. Haah, this sweet scent is something else. I won’t be able to hold back...Nn.

ー Subaru bites her

Yui: ...Ah.

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“What? Does it feel that good? Then better hold on me tight so you don’t fall over.”

“Mmh...I feel ecstatic too. I can’t get enough of knowing that I’m makin’ you feel good.”

Subaru: Nn...Nnh, nguh...

Yui: ( He’s...sucking my blood... )

( He’s being so much more gentle than ever before... )

Subaru: Nhaah...Hah, how’s that? Does it feel good to experience my fangs for the first time in a while?

Yui: Yeah, it feels good...

Subaru: Then hold onto that feeling. We’re still nowhere near done yet. I gotta make up for all of the lost time.

Hah, nnh...Nn...Phew...

*Rustle*

Yui: Aah...!

( Even though he’s sucking intensely, I can tell that he’s being mindful of me. )

( Almost as if he’s trying to swallow away all loneliness and worry I felt at the same time. )

( Subaru-kun, Subaru-kun...! )

( The real Subaru-kun has finally come back! )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[op-sys-chaos]

Excerpts from Sunny and I’s DMs about The Drakes Spoiled Brat, in no particular order

Sunny = @batfambrainrotbeloved

Bryn = me

Sunny: “Yes pretty!! And Deadly-“

Sunny: “Quick opinion question-“

*About 30 messages of me talking about interior design follow*

Sunny: “Because I need the VIBE-“

Sunny: “I keep trying to find reference images of "giant ass creepy painting on a wall" BUT Pinterest keeps giving me live laugh love style shit”

Bryn: “JUSTICE FOR ALFRED’S PIS

*PUE

*PIE

😂 apparently I can’t spell today lmao”

Sunny: "The pie deserved better"

Sunny: “And I shall, after I finish this fucking pie chapter”

Bryn: “Okay but odds on on the Wayne’s actually looking out a window in the right direction in that massive ass house”

Sunny: “Plot convinence odds”

Bryn: “Fair, fair”

Sunny: “True- I underestimated Tims utter need to throw hands”

Sunny: “ALSO ALSO- another debate scne

sene

jesus okay 

s c e n e”

Sunny: “Okay ignore the fact its mlp- BUT this vibe basically

WAIT NO WRONG SONG

...Its still mlp”

Bryn: “Oh noooooooooo”

Sunny: “I can see the memes already <333”

Bryn: “[redacted] not doing his fuckin research: this is fine”

Sunny: “it just fucking DIED- thats not important”

Bryn: “[redacted]: I wish I could be happy 

The universe: you won’t be happy unless you’re dead bitch”

Sunny: “NOT THAT H E KNOWS THAT”

Sunny: “huh... so THATS what happened”

Bryn: “[redacted]: “I wish to be remembered as great” Tim: “yeah a great PAIN IN THE ASS-“”

Bryn: “I can and will contribute ideas”

Sunny: “IM COPY PASTA INTO THE OUTLINE DOC DONT WORRY”

Bryn: “D O  I T”

Bryn: “Some much needed humor before you break Tim again”

Sunny: “HUMOR TIME BABYYY”

Bryn: “DAMNIT IM MAKING MYSLEF CRY”

Sunny: “GOD IM MAKING MYSELF SAD”

Bryn: “TIM WOULD SO BE SPIRALING, THE POOR BOY 😭”

Sunny: “BECAUSE AGAIN- HES AN IDIOT”

Bryn: “YES YES YES ABSOLUTELY”

Sunny: “AHHHHHHH”

Bryn: “OH NO TRAGIC IDEA”

Sunny: “DO TELL???”

Bryn: “Oh noooooo I’m too good at angst ideas sometimes…”

Sunny: “No no you gotta share now”

Bryn: *shares an idea, idea redacted for your sanity*

Sunny: “FUCKO 

OH MY GOD

Shock factor is THERE”

Sunny: “If not that's totally fine- I'll just do some FBI flagged list worthy research”

Bryn: “I love that, I hope we can see the instant regret in the actual story :)”

Bonus: a comment from the Google doc for Chapter 11!

Bryn: “Jason, having found one of Tim's broken birds, running into the batcave with it in his hand: THE BIRDS WORK FOR THE BOURGEOISIE GUYS”

An unredacted version will be posted when we eventually get to the point in the story where the redacted stuff no longer spoils anything!