#it's just past midnight for me so happy halloween | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

touyasdoll · 1 year ago

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Scream 2

this is a follow up to a fic I wrote last year for kinktober, but it’s not necessary to read that one before this one. it can stand alone <3

pairing: ghostface!Dabi x f!reader x ghostface!Hawks

warnings: DARK CONTENT, please be advised. CNC, dubcon, fear play, knife play, home invasion, threesome, double penetration in one hole, eiffel tower for lack of a better term, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), backshots, also Touya is 6'4 idc what the canon says, au where Hawks actually double crosses the HPSC bc a girl can dream, rough sex, not exactly hair pulling but hair grabbing, face sitting, thigh riding, size kink, dirty talk, biting, marking, overstimulation, mild degradation, praise, impact play (barely), nipple play, breeding, let me know if I missed any please <3

word count: 5.3k

notes: Happy Halloween! 👻🔪🖤

“You’re absolutely sure about this?” Keigo asks as he narrows his golden irises at the white haired man before him on the rooftop.

The sky is dark, especially in this part of the city. The few lights from the rundown buildings and buzzing street lamps provide the only meaningful illumination, as the moon is hidden behind a thick blanket of dark, heavy clouds that promise a storm is coming.

“I’m sure. Don’t sweat it, feathers. Just stick to the plan and everything’ll be fine. Scout’s honor,” Touya replies, flashing a sardonic smile.

“Your honor isn’t exactly worth much,” the hero scoffs. “But I guess I’ll have to take you at your word.”

Keigo’s dressed in his civilian clothes; an all black ensemble consisting of jeans, boots, and a well-fitting hoodie. He’d clearly heeded Touya’s instruction to dress for stealth, while the villain is still dressed in his stitched ensemble.

“That’s a good little bird,” Touya says as he heads for the stairs. “Good luck. You might need it, hero.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, heaving an anxious sigh before he takes off into the cool night air.

You’re just getting ready to turn in for the night. It had been a successful Halloween. You and Touya were able to watch a few spooky movies and take turns passing out candy before he had to leave for whatever PLF business he’s up to tonight.

He actually seemed to enjoy himself whenever it was his turn to answer the door. Maybe it was because he got a kick out of seeing the kids’ reactions to his Ghostface mask, but you have a feeling it was more about seeing your reaction to the mask.

He hasn’t pulled it out since last Halloween, much to your disappointment. He just looks so good in it. You could even do without the theatrics. Just being able to ride him or get railed while he has that damn mask on would be enough.

You were hoping that he’d give you an encore tonight. He did use the code the two of you had established. You vividly remember him slowly lifting off the mask after closing the door on another round of trick-or-treaters and sauntering over to the couch with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Hey, doll. What’s your favorite scary movie?” He’d asked, the question so full of promise, just as it had been last year.

But it was well past midnight now. He’d said that he might be back late tonight, which is usually how it goes when he’s working. Maybe you two could have your fun on another night, you suppose as you retreat to your bedroom.

You change into one of Touya’s t-shirts before you slip beneath the covers and just before you rest your head, your phone rings. Seeing that it’s your boyfriend, you pick it right up.

“Hey, baby,” you greet him, sitting up against the headboard.

Unfortunately, you don’t hear a word that he says. What you do hear is much more terrifying. A loud, sudden thud reverberates throughout the house and you swear it must be coming from your kitchen, but you were just in there hardly a minute ago. Surely, you’d notice someone creeping around your house, right?

Then again, you hadn’t noticed last year. Maybe he was keeping up the tradition after all. Trying to pull the wool over your eyes again to give you a scare. Well, not this year. You know better.

“Sorry, baby. You were breaking up,” you say calmly as you slip out of bed and creep into the hall. “What did you say?”

You’d play along with his little game, but you know that you have no reason to be truly afraid. He’s probably hiding behind a corner somewhere, watching you as you pad about the house in nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear. The thought actually turns you on quite a bit.

“I said I’m about to head home. Sorry things took so long, but I should be back soon. M’not far,” Touya says as he jingles his keys in his hand.

“Okay. I was just about to turn in to bed, but I’ll wait up for you,” you say as you head into the kitchen to turn the light on.

There’s a large duffel bag in the center of the floor and you can’t help but wonder what might be inside. Seems like he’s really trying to up the ante this time. Your insides start twisting with a heady mixture of both excitement and desire, but then you see a figure who seems too short to be your boyfriend step into the other entrance to the kitchen and your heart stops.

“You don’t gotta wait up if you’re tired, doll,” Touya says on the other end of the phone, confirming that it’s definitely not him staring you down in that familiar Ghostface costume.

“Babe,” you whisper, your voice trembling in fear as you take a step back and the masked intruder takes one with you. “S-someone’s in the house.”

“What?” Touya asks and you can hear the fear in his voice as well, which sends your blood pressure through the roof. “Doll, just stay hidden. I will be there as soon as I can. I’m on my way, okay? Where are you?”

“O-okay,” you respond meekly, your voice cracking as you continue to walk backwards.

The intruder keeps at your pace, tilting his head to one side as he studies you. Your eyes are drawn to something glinting in the light as he reveals a blade from behind his robe.

“Doll, where are you? Do they know you’re there?” Touya asks frantically as he fires up the car and takes off.

You only faintly hear his voice and the tires skidding in the background of the call as you freeze up. Everything slows down for just a moment and then the adrenaline kicks in.

You bolt for the front door, only to find that it’s locked from the outside somehow. You try again in vain to jiggle the handle, praying that maybe it’s just stuck, but it’s definitely fucking locked and that causes you to panic all over again.

“Doll? Doll, answer me,” Touya yells loud enough for you to hear it even though you’ve since dropped your phone to your side.

You don’t hear the stranger coming up behind you, but when you look over your shoulder, he’s right there. Close enough to kill you if he wanted.

You scream in fright and drop the phone in your haste to bolt for the back door, but he jumps in your way. He’s on the smaller side, but he seems especially nimble. You aren’t sure you stand much of a chance getting away from him, but you have to try.

You just have to last until Touya gets home. That’s what you keep telling yourself. A mantra that you repeat over and over in your mind as you scramble down the hall and into the first open door.

The slam of the door knocks some sense back into you. You keep your hands pressed against it and take a look around the guest bedroom, eyeing the dresser nearby. It’s mostly empty and it’s not very big, but it’s better than nothing.

A loud bang that sounds like a heavy fist thudding against the wood startles you and you let out a scream before you lurch towards the dresser to start sliding it across the floor.

“Doll? Doll, where are you?” You hear Touya’s voice call out from down the hall.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Do you come out? Touya’s more than capable, but you don’t know what this intruder is capable of. What’s his quirk? What if it’s deadly?

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest as you listen for sounds of a struggle, but your fear of something happening to your boyfriend wins out over your fear of something happening to you.

“Babe?” You call as you burst out of the door, frantically scanning the dimly lit house as you creep down the hall once more.

The kitchen lights have been turned off and it’s quiet. It’s silent. Eerily so. Just when you feel like you might have made a mistake, the stranger turns the corner from the kitchen and holds a voice changer up to his mouth.

“Yes, doll?” He says, tilting his head in a mocking fashion as he slowly stalks closer to you.

Your eyes go wide as you realize that you’d definitely fucked up and you attempt to retreat back to the relative safety of the guest room, but you hear footsteps right behind you. He’s moving too fast. He covers twice the distance that you’re able to and throws himself across the doorway before lifting the device to his concealed mouth again.

“Fooled ya,” he says in the familiar, raspy distorted voice of Ghostface.

Tears well in your eyes as you turn tail and run straight for the backdoor. You aren’t thinking, just moving. Hurtling towards freedom, which you are hoping against hope you are able to find, but all hope is lost when you suddenly collide with another figure in the kitchen.

You slam into their firm chest and tilt your head back to look up at the imposing new intruder, who is also dressed as the masked fictional killer.

“Fuck,” you mutter, gaping up at the taller of the two in horror as you turn on your heel, only to find the other one right behind you.

Both of them begin closing in, sauntering towards you silently. All that you can hear is the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears as you back yourself up to the island. The shorter stranger looks between you and his companion in crime, who nods in response as your heart sinks into your stomach.

“Please. Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper, shrinking against the cool marble countertop.

The shorter of the two lifts the voice changer to his lips and uses his other hand to brandish the knife once more, using the blade to lift the hem of your shirt and press the flat of the cold steel blade to your stomach.

“We’re not gonna hurt you, gorgeous. We just wanna play,” he says as he leans in closer.

“I thought you liked playin’ like this, doll?” The taller one asks as he tilts his head to one side.

You whip your head towards him, because you could swear that’s your boyfriend’s voice, but you’ve already been tricked once tonight. He flashes his palms, revealing no voice changer in his hand. No knife either. He snaps his fingers together and a brilliant blue flame burns away the glove concealing his hand to reveal familiar scars and staples.

“T-Touya?” You ask shakily, blinking in surprise. “Then who the fuck is..?”

Your heart rate finally starts to slow as you trail off and shake your head, looking at the other Ghostface in confusion. You reach out to rip the mask off and are stunned to find Keigo’s wilder than usual blonde hair and disarming golden gaze beneath the disguise.

“Happy Halloween, doll,” Touya purrs as you stare at Keigo’s handsome smirk.

“I-I don’t understand,” you say quietly, not wanting to assume that what you sincerely hope might happen is actually about to happen.

“Sure ya do,” Touya continues, his large hands finding your hips to draw you closer and bring your back flush against his chest, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as Keigo sets the knife down on the counter without taking his hungry eyes off of you. “You remember us having this conversation, don’t you?”

Your brow furrows and you look away from the hero as you try to remember just what in the fuck Touya is on about when you recall him prompting you with an unusual question a few months ago.

You were sitting on the couch, curled up watching a movie. Sleep was beginning to tug at you, trying to beckon you to bed, but you were stubborn and insisted on staying up to see the end of the film, even though Touya was making it that much more difficult by rubbing his unnaturally warm hands along your back.

“Say, if we were ever to have a threesome with one of our friends, who would you want it to be with?” He’d asked you seemingly out of the blue, but unknown to you, he’d been ruminating on how to top his Halloween escapade for some time already.

“Hmm?” You ask as you tilt your head back to look at him and shrug. “I don’t know. You don’t exactly have a whole lot of friends. No offense.”

“None taken. I’d consider that a compliment,” he says, shrugging. “But seriously. Well, hypothetically, I guess. If ya had to pick one, who would it be? There’s plenty of hot people in the PLF.”

You hum curiously, taking a moment to think it over as you tuck your face back into his chest and nuzzle into him.

“Keigo. He’s hot and I’d trust him,” you reply bluntly, a yawn escaping you a moment later.

“Good choice. You’re right on both counts,” he murmurs, a plan already coming together in his mind. “That could be fun.”

“I didn’t think.. I mean–I–,” you balk, looking between them in disbelief.

“I wasn’t bein’ hypothetical, gorgeous,” Touya says as he spins you around to catch your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting your head back so that his blue eyes can bore into you while Keigo switches on the kitchen light. “So whaddya say?”

“We’re gonna need a clear answer before the real fun can begin,” Keigo says sensually as he steps close enough that you can feel his body heat behind you.

“Yes,” you eek out, nodding your head as you try to wrap your brain around this unexpected turn of events.

The bastard had gotten one over on you again after all, but it’s not like you can even stay mad about it, considering what’s in store for you.

“I hope you’re hydrated, doll,” Touya chuckles, fisting a hand into your hair to carefully tug your hair back and kiss you like his life depends on it.

He sighs through his nose, groaning against your lips as his hand drops to your ass. He gives it a firm squeeze as he shifts his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he is already.

Keigo steps closer to press his toned chest against your back and tilts his head to start kissing along your neck as he grabs your waist and grinds against you from behind, revealing that he’s also sporting a raging hard on.

You moan, working your tongue and your mouth against Touya as your hands explore his chest, searching for an opening in the black robe he’s wearing.

“You wanna just cut to the chase already, doll?” The villain smirks, lighting his palm for just a second to reduce your scant clothing to ash. “I think we’ve been through enough foreplay and I’ve been waiting too damn long for this.”

He does the same to his clothing, pressing a hand to his chest and the other to Keigo’s. You feel another brief flash of tolerable heat before you’re hyper aware of the feeling of both of their bare bodies writhing against your own.

“Oh fuck,” you sigh, tilting your head to one side as Keigo begins nipping at your sensitive pulse point, laving his tongue over it to soothe the subtle ache.

You reach a hand back to work it into his hair and tug gently as you arch your back, grinding your ass against his stiff cock, which coaxes a gorgeous moan from him. You slip a hand between you and Touya as he captures your mouth again. Your fingers wrap around his length to guide the bead of precum along his shaft, drawing out a beautiful noise from him as well.

Both of them suddenly pull away and you’re afraid that you’ve done something wrong until Keigo steps in front of you to grab your hips and effortlessly lift you up onto the kitchen island.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a long, long time,” he says, smirking as he leans in to kiss you and parts your legs.

Touya stands back, stroking himself as he watches Keigo crouch down between your thighs. The blonde keeps his eyes on yours as he trails kisses and love bites along your inner thighs, slowly and steadily working his way up to your glistening pussy.

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs as he sets his sights between your legs as dives in, his tongue parting your folds before it spears inde of you.

He certainly knows what he’s doing and it immediately drives you crazy. You keep yourself supported and sitting upright with one hand, so that you can watch him feast on your pussy while you keep a hand in his hair. He alternates between bathing you with his tongue and sucking on your clit with just the right amount of pressure, drawing moans and whimpers from you with ease.

You look up to seek validation from Touya, almost feeling guilty for enjoying yourself so much, but he seems to be just as into it as you are. He nods, grinning wickedly as he comes closer.

“You enjoyin’ yourself, doll?” He asks as he stops stroking himself to instead reach beneath Hawks’ chin and slip two fingers inside of you.

“Y-yes!” You gasp, your eyes crossing as your head tips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“I know, gorgeous,” he purrs and you can hear the smug smirk on his face. “Go ahead and cum all over my friend’s face. He’s dying to taste it.”

His words send you over the edge and you cry out, sending your release gushing into Keigo’s mouth as your hips gyrate on top of the counter. The hero wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you still as he continues ravaging you with his tongue. He noisily cleans up your arousal, sending you into overdrive as you whine and beg for him to show you mercy when it just gets to be too much.

He eventually lets you catch your breath, but when he stands up to wipe his chin, the look on Touya’s face tells you that you in for much worse if you thought that was too much.

“S’my turn to taste that sweet pussy, gorgeous. C’mere,” he says, nodding towards the hall as he scoops you up off the counter. At least he doesnt expect you to walk after that.

He carries you into the bedroom and switches the light on before he lays you down on the bed and lumbers over you.

“First things first, clean up the mess you made,” Touya practically coos as he offers his slick fingers to you.

You hold his gaze as you slowly take the digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and moaning quietly when you taste yourself on his skin.

“Good girl,” Hawks praises you as he crawls onto the bed and Touya repositions, laying flat on his back.

“You know my favorite number, doll,” he says as he delivers a swift smack to your behind, just enough to make you jump a little. “Assume the position.”

You look between him and Keigo curiously and do as you're told, straddling Touya’s face to wrap your hand around his cock and begin stroking, but before you can take a seat, he tuts his tongue.

“I want your mouth on him, baby,” Touya says before he hooks his arms around you and forces you to sit.

His mouth starts working wonders between your legs and you think you might just cum in record time after what Hawks had done to you, but then you remember that your mouth is needed elsewhere than just filling up the sticky air with filthy noises.

You shift forward as Keigo comes closer, his swollen cock bobbing in front of your face. You lift your eyes to his and take great pleasure in watching the watch his head dips back and his Adam’s apple bobs when you take him into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep still as he lets you slowly bob along his length until you’re comfortably taking him in and out of his mouth while working your hand along his shaft.

You keep your other hand wrapped around Touya’s cock, focusing on trying to please both of them while feeling like your brain is going to break thanks to what Touya’s doing beneath you. The moans that you drive from him send vibrations straight into your pussy that only drive you closer to the edge.

You hold on for as long as you can, but it soon becomes to much again and you pull your mouth and hands away from both of them to sit up and support yourself with your hands on Touya’s thighs, gripping them tight.

“C-can’t,” you practically sob, squeezing your eyes tight as you hang your head. “Holy shit.”

“Yes, you can,” Keigo coos as he reaches out to cup your breasts, massaging them with care before he starts tweaking your nipples, which sends you cascading into oblivion for the second time tonight.

You nearly collapse, slumping forward as you’re overcome with pleasure, but Keigo catches you, loosely holding you in his arms as he rubs his hand along your back, which only heightens the sensations you’re feeling.

You whimper in his ear and he presses a kiss to the side of your head as he and Touya gently ease you off of the latter, so that Touya can sit up.

“You’re doin’ so well, beautiful,” Hawks croons, peppering kisses along your jaw until he finds your lips.

“Mm,” is the only response you can muster at the moment as you slowly come down from your high.

“So well,” Touya praises, moving behind you to rest his hands on your hips as he kisses along your shoulder. “Such a good girl. Can you keep bein’ a good girl for us, gorgeous? If we give you what you really want? Hmm?”

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, nodding your head as your eyes fall closed. “I’ll keep bein’ good. I’ll be so good.”

“That’s our girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck before he places a chaste kiss to it.

Keigo moves aside and then Touya presses a hand to your back, keeping the other firmly planted on your hip as he forces you onto all fours. He groans as he grinds himself against you, his cock gliding through your folds, nearly penetrating where you need him the most.

“Please,” you whine softly, shaking your ass as you drop your hips back against him.

“Since you asked so nice,” he purrs, smirking as he slips inside of you, letting you feel him enter you inch by glorious inch, his piercings sliding against your walls and making your eyes roll back.

Keigo starts stroking himself as he watches Touya set a steady rhythm, fucking you just hard enough to make you gasp now and then as you fist your hands into the sheets and meet him thrust for thrust. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixing with the euphoric noises pouting from each and every one of you.

“Just gotta stretch you out a bit, gorgeous,” Touya pants, draping himself over you as he slows his pace. He reaches a hand around ti gently guide your face towards Keigo, who’s abs are drawn taut as he continues stroking himself, his eyes now fixed on your face. “You think you can take both of us? He’s not exactly small either, but I believe in you, doll.”

Your eyes widen, but you find yourself nodding. You aren’t sure if you can do it, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“I want to,” you breathe out, nodding as you reach out towards Keigo to take over stroking his cock, tugging very gently to guide him closer as you smirk up at him. “We should get you nice and lubed up though, yeah?”

His eyebrows raise and he looks extremely pleased as he nods and cradles your head in the back of your hand as Touya straightens up.

“So fucking good,” Touya marvels through grit teeth as he picks up the pace again.

He lets you adjust to having Keigo in your mouth, but he starts pushing your further, driving into your hard enough to make you deep throat the hero, which makes both of them groan sinfully as they watch you swallow their cocks at either end.

“Fuck,” Keigo sighs as he suddenly backs away. “Anymore of that and I’m gonna be done way too soon.”

“Let’s see if you’re ready then, doll,” Touya says, smirking as he pulls out and kneads the fat of your ass before giving it a light smack. “Lay down, Kei. You should her pussy for yourself first.”

Hawks lays on his back and Touya cups your cheek to guide your face towards his one, giving you a passionate kiss before he lets you go and nods towards the blonde.

“Give him the ride of his life,” he says as he wraps his hand around his own cock.

You climb on top of Keigo, leaning in to give him a kiss and slip your tongue into his mouth, teasingly tracing it around the entrance of his mouth as you wrap your hand around his length. You suddenly sink down and he lets out a choked groan as he seizes your hips.

You rest your hands on his chest, smirking with satisfaction as you start riding him, moving your hips slowly at first as your walls clench around him, hugging his cock tight.

“You feel so good, Kei,” you say breathily.

His eyes widen and for a moment, he feels like he might just cum and pass out right there. He lets you set the pace, watching you intently as you bounce up and down on his length. His hands glide over your body, exploring every inch of you that he can reach before they settle on your breasts. He massages them as gently as he had earlier before tweaking your nipples.

He seems to get a better idea as he sits up and wraps his arms around you, grabbing your ass to start guiding your hips more forcefully while he takes your nipple into his mouth to suck. He expertly moves his tongue across the sensitive bud, flicking and swirling it around as he applies more pressure to your hips and encourages you to quicken your pace.

“Just like that, doll,” Touya pants, struggling to stave of his own end as he senses yours coming.

“Keigo,” you whimper, grasping onto his shoulders as you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back, your hips bucking as you come undone again.

“Oh fuck,” he groans loudly, panting for breath as he continues fucking you through your end while fighting off his own.

Touya pulls his hand away from his cock to take a few deep breaths, watching you contort with pleasure until you’re through the worst of it. He moves behind you and kisses along your shoulder again, sending delicious shivers down your spine.

“You sure you wanna do this, doll?” He asks quietly, his tone sincere.

“Yes. Yes, please,” you whisper, nodding weakly nodding your head.

“You don’t have to do any of the work this time, baby,” Keigo says as he runs his hands along yours arms and lays flat on his back. “Just let us make you feel good.”

You nod again and Touya rests a hand on your back to gently guide your forward so that you’re laying on top of Keigo before he situates himself behind you.

“I’ll go slow,” he assures you as he first works one finger inside of you. Then another.

You and Keigo both moan quietly, your shallow breaths mingling with one another’s as he drags his fingertips along your back. Touya starts slowly thrusting his fingers and Keigo slowly shifts his hips, working you open further as you rest your head on the blonde’s chest and submit to it. Once he’s confident that you’re able to take both of them, Touya slowly guides the head of his cock inside of you.

“Shit,” he groans, continuing to gently bully himself inside. “It’s so fucking tight. So fucking good. You feel that, Kei?”

“Fuck yeah I do,” Hawks sighs, holding perfectly still as his face twists with pleasure. “It’s so fucking good.”

You press your nails into Keigo’s biceps as you feel the two of them stretching you open and filling you up in a way that you never thought possible. They’re right. It is so. Fucking. Good.

“Fuck me,” you beg quietly once Touya’s seated inside of you. “Please fuck me. Wanna feel both of you.”

“You’re gonna, baby,” Touya croons as he slowly draws his hips back and pushes inside of you again.

The sensation is glorious. It’s mind numbing. It’s like the best drug you’ve ever felt and you know that you need more of it.

He holds onto your hips and Keigo seizes your waist as they both begin to move in tandem, slowly at first, but working their way to a pace that has you at a loss for words. You couldn’t find any if you tried. None of you can apparently.

The only noises to be heard are your bodies all grinding against each other. The lewd squelching of fluids between your forms as you trade sinful noises and panting breaths back and forth. Eventually, you do find one phrase, but just one.

“Cum inside me, please. Please,” you whine, your voice pitching higher as you feel another orgasm building, this one threatening to tear you apart in the best way. “Cum i-inside.”

“We’re gonna breed you so fuckin’ good, doll,” Touya promises without missing a beat. “I promise.”

They seem to have mastered their movements. Together, the two of them drive you steadily towards your end whilst chasing their own. You snap first, of course, howling with pleasure as your writhe on top of them, your walls contracting impossibly tight around both of their cocks.

Keigo cradles your head and kisses the top of it, whispering praises and Touya hunches forward to do the same, speaking them right into your ear as both of them keep driving themselves inside of you with unparalleled need.

Keigo finishes next, his eyes snapping shut as he lets out a long, loud moan, his rhythm stuttering just as Touya finds his end. His head snaps up as he leans back and grips your hips with bruising force, delivering a few more good thrusts while letting out a primal groan before his thrusts become sloppy and begin to taper off as he lays himself across your back again.

The three of you are left a sweaty, blissful mess on the bed. You’re so wonderfully full. So much so that you’re leaking all over both of them, but neither of them seem to care and neither do you. It’s as if the world has stopped for a minute and you’re all floating outside of time and space, suspended in this moment.

“So good for us,” Touya finally murmurs after who knows how long. He gently grabs your chin to guide your face towards his once more, a lazy smile on his lips as he captures yours in a decidedly sweet kiss. “Happy Halloween, doll.”

thank you for reading! I hope you have/had a safe & happy halloween!

#dabi x reader #hawks x reader #dabi smut #hawks smut #touya todoroki x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #touya x reader #keigo x reader #touya smut #keigo smut #mha smut

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tiredmamaissy · 1 year ago

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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode III

Calm After the Storm

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, heat cycle, extreme knotting, marking, scenting, territorial/possessive behaviour, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, belly bulge, actual breeding, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: 6.3k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Happy halloween guys! I know I literally fell off the face of the earth and I will make another post to address that. But I know I haven’t participated for @pandoraslxna ‘s kinktober event (I’m so sorry bby) but if I could only participate for one of the days it would be today for sure. So I definitely wanted to get this out before midnight. It’s not purely a/b/o but honestly entails all the aspects of it. I think we can all definitely tell who’s the alpha and omega here (Ralak is alpha material hands down, ofc). I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I apologize for such a wait <3 Also I feel like I’m a bit rusty, so apologies for any typos, errors, or just plain suckish writing.

ALSO a big happy birthday to my babe @neteyamsoare <3 love you and hope it was a good one!!

Synopsis: Your heat starts to subside, but Ralak’s rut is only getting stronger. What could possibly go wrong?

<- Previous -> Next

——

Only an hour has passed before you feel your not-so-gentle giant stirring behind you, waking you from your sleep. You’d both been on your sides for too long now and everywhere seems to ache. You whine when you feel his hips shift against you, tugging at the immense pressure between your hips. The bulge protruding from your lower abdomen has barely gone down and you feel almost as full as you did when he initially emptied his load inside you.

Silken strands of his hair fall onto your prickled skin as he props himself up on his elbow from behind you, perching his chin on your throbbing shoulder. He inhales deeply – longingly. His hot breath gently blows against your neck just as you feel his arm snake under your leg and yank it back in one rough tug.

“Ralak.” His name falls from your lips through a nearly inaudible croak. “‘m so full.” You barely mumble out, rolling your head to the side. Yet, the flame within you is without a doubt reigniting with a vengeance.

And he can sense it.

Simply by the way you push back into him, making that bulge in your belly protrude a little more. His large hand resting on your stomach can indubitably feel it. And the smile that it puts on his face is almost baleful, bearing his lengthy canines that yearn to sink deep into you once more. “Sorry, tìyawn [love].”

He just can’t help it.

No matter how hard he tried. The desire—no, the need—to fuck into you and claim you as his time and time again is… irrepressible. In this moment, nothing else felt better than your little, used cunt hugging his cock so tightly that it almost hurts. He yearns to fill you over and over. Again and again until your womb is overflowing with his seed. The mere thought has his balls pulling tight to his body, firming up by the second all just to flood your womb again.

“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak growls into your neck, sliding his hand down to your inner thigh. “I will try to be–” He groans slowly, his pointer finger now burrowing itself between your tied pelvises, “–flrr [gentle].”

The final accented word comes out roughly, and if it weren’t for his finger slipping past his knot and into your cunt, you would’ve probably heard it clearly. You yelp out when he traces his finger around his knot, stretching your already taut skin, attempting to work a little space to allow his bulge to slip out.

It's all consuming and you’re simply too overwhelmed with his size that you fail to realise how your body is synced with his and bearing down to push him out. All whilst he’s struggling to fight the snap of hips to avoid hurting you. But the tugging is nothing like you’ve felt before adn you can finally understand why he was so insistent in the first place.

ut there was no getting out of this now, not that you even wanted to.

“It–it’s…” You brace yourself by grabbing onto his forearm, “...t-too big.”

“Ngaytxoa [sorry]” He huffs out his fourth apology, losing himself once again as his hips finally jerk back out of his control.

Pop.

His knot slips out of you with such force that the squelch it makes is as loud as your whimper. It’s so wet and slippery that his cock follows behind his knot, sliding out of you effortlessly. He’s more than half-hard yet so heavy and hung it rests close to your knee. Then you feel it. His cum dribbling down your thigh, still warm and sticky as if he just filled you up seconds ago.

It’s such a conflicting feeling — a mixture of relief and pent up frustration. Your heat is still in full bloom, despite it being so quenched until you’re almost nauseated. It’s as if you were two pieces perfectly linked together, allowing nature to run its course with no second thought. He grunts when he feels the crisp night air against his groin, his cock now springing up to its full length in just a few seconds.

He, too, feels some sort of feverish way now. Itching to be back inside your warmth, enveloped by your gummy, slimy walls. He opts to pepper wet kisses along your neck, and then up to your jaw, lingering there as he tries to distract himself from the ache to shove it back inside you.

Until it becomes too much.

“Tanhì.” He moans into your ear, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open as his tongue trails the skin on the back of your neck. “Need you.” It’s his way of begging for permission. Permission to slam his cock back inside you and hammer into you until the annoying itch deep in his core goes away again. You were the only one to make it go away. To stop the hurt. “Please.” He whines out a plea of desperation, now gritting his teeth from the way his stomach is tensing. “Now.”

But that last plea wasn’t much of a question, no. It was more of a demand. A way of saying, ‘give it to me, or I’ll take you on my own terms’.

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath, sliding your free hand down your side to hook it under your leg. You pull it back and reposition your hips to give him access to your cunt. “P-Put it in, ‘Lak.”

Ralak’s hips begin to stutter — the leaking, mushroomy tip of his cock now repeatedly prodding between your puffed up folds. His breath turns raggedy as he tries to guide himself back inside you handsfree. Your slick is overflowing, making it even more difficult for him to align himself with your entrance. The frustration brewing within him bubbles over when his cockhead glides past your swollen clit instead of sinking in your cunt. So he pulls back in one swift move and —

Thrust.

Your body jolts from how quickly he slams every inch of his cock inside you, forcing you split-open. Ralak huffs a shaky sigh of relief, his breathing growing a little steadier now that he’s deep inside his mate. Meanwhile, your mouth hangs agape yet no sound falls from your lips. Your eyes well up with tears and your ears lay flat against your skull. Your body is in complete submission to the beast dominating it and there’s nothing else you can do but give in to the pleasure.

“Your scent.” He whispers open-mouthed, tips of his canines grazing the nape of your neck. “It is driving me crazy.” You release the breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. You didn’t even know what to say. Not like you could really say much right now anyways. You’re too lost in the fog of your own heat. For once, Ralak is doing most of the talking. “It makes me…” He snaps his hips back, only leaving half of his length inside you. “...lose myself completely.”

A deep roll of his hips.

A lewd moan dripping off your lips.

“How do you do that?” He huffs, pressing his teeth against your neck. You don’t answer yet again. You just can’t find the words. Not right now. Not when he’s so deep inside you. “Hm?” A deep growl vibrates up his throat, his teeth just barely piercing the first layer of your silken skin.

“I—” You’re cut off by your own squeal when you feel the sting of his bite. Your breath catches in your throat and he immediately unlatches, lapping at the nicked skin to soothe it. “Sorry.” He whispers breathlessly, planting a quick kiss on each of your marks. “Sorry. Sorry.” A few more apologies flow from his mouth, as if he were drunk off of too much fermented fruit. Somewhat lucid but still so spaced. “I cannot —ngh— help myself.”

Thrust.

“‘M sorry.”

He knows he went a little too deep just now. But you feel so fucking good around his cock.

Chomp.

Another mark. Right on the bend of your shoulder, next to your first.

“Ngaytxoa [I’m sorry]”

A small cry from your quivering lips.

“S-Stop. No more apologies. I am yours to do what you p-please with.” You finally get out in one, weary breath.

Ralak’s languid, deep thrusts are laced with desperation. And with each stroke they become harsher and harsher. Faster and faster. Now he’s got your full permission he lets go once more, falling into the thick fog of his rut.

Within seconds his cock is pumping in and out of you, his half-deflated knot continuously prodding and poking at your entrance. The tip of his cock drags against your walls, putting an immense pressure right on your sweet spot. Yet still, sounds barely fall from your flushed lips. You’re too out of it. Too focused on the raw sensations rippling through you all at once. His overwhelming pheromones. His marking. His relentless pounding.

Rather, hot tears well over your eyes and stream down your face.

He can’t stop slamming himself inside you. He doesn’t want it to stop. It’s absolute rapture and he’s unapologetically drowning in it.

“Tanhì. Tanhì.” He groans needily. “y/n.”

He only says your name when he’s serious about something.

And hearing it drip from his tongue onto the nape of your neck has your hairs standing high and your clit throbbing.

“Eywa. Yes, ‘lak? T-Tell me what you need.” You blubber out, tightening your grip on his forearm.

“Haa — spread yourself.” He demands, prompting you to tuck your leg back as far as you can. His pace quickens, hips striking you with a sinful vengeance. But no matter how hard he fucks you, or how deep he buries himself inside you — its just not enough. He needs to be closer. To be deeper. To really be inside you. To knot you.

“More.” He grunts, slowing his thrusts into rocking, grinding himself inside your slippery, tight cunt.

You go to tug at your leg and meet nothing but resistance. “I-I’m trying.” You can feel it now. Perhaps it’s the bond or maybe it’s the way his knot is working you open but he’s growing more and more frustrated by the thrust.

“Mmmh. Wider.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” You’re quick to answer, feeling nothing but pressure from the way he’s trying to shove more of himself inside you.

“Agh.” He growls in frustration, pulling out of you and grabbing you by the ankle to flip you onto your back.

Ralak situates himself between your legs without hesitation and pushes them so far back your knees graze against the tips of your ears. You can barely breathe in this position and are having a hard time seeing anything else but his raging cock at your entrance. You can feel the burn in your thighs from how far back he’s shoving your knees but that sting is masked by the pleasure of him plunging himself back into your pussy.

The moan that rips from your lips is obscene and like no other. The crown of his cock is drilling itself directly into your sweet spot, causing it to swell with unadulterated pleasure. And each time he pulls out just to sink it back inside you he winds you in the process – making you sputter out absolute nonsense. Even he knows you're close, despite being in the thick of his rut.

But frankly, he doesn't care.

All he’s concerned about is satisfying his own urges.

“Not enough.” He grits through his teeth as his eyes shift to an even deeper shade of mauve. “‘ts not enough.” He pants, voice laced with something of worry. Panic that this feeling won’t go away. It makes you panic too, wondering if you’re doing enough for him. If he’s going to take even more from you. If you can manage it.

“You’re okay. Do what you need.” You try to reassure him, grasping your feet and holding them back–opening yourself up even more. But fuck, that only made things worst for you.

And by worst, you mean better. It feels like you’ll burst any second now, especially with how much pressure is on your bladder. “Fu-ck me. God, fuck–ahaa-fuck me.”

His brows bunch together as he peers down at you, beads of sweat rolling off his face to drip onto your chest. His jaw is so tense it looks as if it may fracture. He’s grunting with every push and huffing with every pull.

“Right there! Fuck. I’m close. I’m so fucking close. I-I need you to cum i-inside me. Oh—please ‘lak. Please!” Your cries are choked and muffled, breaths short and raggedy. The heat pooling in your core is unbearable. It needs out. Now.

Ralak swallows. Hard. Through his own haze he can see that you’re in need too. He shuffles closer to you, tucking his feet under him to assume a squatting position. Now he’s all but on top of you, folding you into a merciless mating press. This one shift in position has you coming undone on his cock, coating it in your thick slick as you sob from the white hot pleasure. The force of your climax has you pushing him out and only has him drilling himself further inside you. If it’s not for the way your pussy walls tighten around him surely his knot would have popped inside you by now.

He’s still fucking into you, right through your orgasm and towards his.

“Say what you need.” He panics through a tightened jaw, grinding himself inside you – pushing his knot against the resistance.

You know what he’s actually asking from you. To say something. Anything to tip him over the edge. To rid him of this maddening itch.

“Breed me.” You whisper, locking eyes with him. You watch as his pupils blow into thin rings and then constrict into nothing but dots. You try to swallow what spit you could, attempting to clear your throat. “Breed me. Please.”

“Then take it.” He lets loose a sinister growl, putting all his weight into his final push. For the first time, you feel his knot pop inside you, veiny and as thick as can be. You let out a high-pitched whimper, and feel your teeth begin to chatter. That doesn’t make him ease up, though. He continues to grind himself inside you until you feel the familiar, warm sensation of his sticky seed spraying inside you – filling your womb to the brim. His cock throbs wildly, in perfect synchrony with his own heartbeat, and soon yours too as the bond equilibrates your souls once more.

Strangely, you thought you’d be sore and overstimulated by now, but your body has never felt better. You’re full and content and more than satiated. Ralak heaves a sigh — one of pure relief. It’s glued to his face. All panic washes away and he’s feeling more at peace the longer he remains inside you. He’s rigid, firmly holding his position on top of you — ensuring he empties every single drop inside you. Yet, his heavy lidded eyes begin to close.

“I can’t breathe.” You mumble, snapping him out of his tranquil trance. His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth pulls into a little smirk. He exhales a breathy chuckle and carefully manoeuvres you both into a more comfortable position. He settles himself on his back and supports your body whilst positioning you on top of him.

“Better?” Ralak husks, drawing circles into your back with the tip of his finger.

You take a deep breath, filling your lungs to full capacity and then slowly release it. “Much.”

“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]” His accented words slur together as he dozes off.

“Nga yawne lu oer, Ralak [I love you].”

——

Ralak woke repeatedly throughout the night for his fill. If it wasn’t him, it was you. Waking up in a clammy state, shaking and nuzzling into his chest from your heat. You honestly thought that the more time passed — the more rounds you went — the more he would calm down.

But, you thought wrong.

He’d start by leaving tender kisses wherever he could, whispering he’d do his best to be as gentle as he can be. Then, he’d slip a finger inside you, stretching you out in attempts to pull his knot out without hurting you. But it would always sting, even just a little bit. After that he’d beg. Pleading with you to let him back in, and apologize right after plunging inside you regardless of your answer—which was always yes.

At this point your own foggy haze would take over. Perhaps it was your body’s way of coping with the overstimulation, but you pined for every single second of it. Sometimes it would last for a few minutes. Where he’d be quick to fold you in two and growl in the shell of your ear, ‘you’re mine, haah — fuck, take me’.

Sometimes it was closer to an hour. Where you’d both be so tired you’d take breaks, lazily taking turns fucking each other, telling him to ‘put it back in’ whenever he’d slip out. But one thing remained the same every time. You’d sob when you’d cum and then beg him to breed you. And he would, without a doubt, breed you.

Mercilessly.

And with each breeding, he’d lose himself a little deeper. Knotting you over and over. Marking you repeatedly until your body’s littered with bites. Until you were so fucked out you’d lost the feeling in your legs. Until your throat was so dry you could barely speak. Until you needed a break.

——

“Wait.” You crawl towards the bedside table with wobbly knees. “Just need some water, Lak.”

Ralak pounces on you, knocking you onto your stomach and pressing himself against you. You extend an arm out, fingers splayed out and shaking from you trying to reach the cup of water Ka’ani left there more than a day ago. Ralak grabs your hips and hoists you up onto your knees and elbows, and mounts you from behind.

“Water. Water, Lak.” You beg with a hoarse cry, only for him to line the crown of his cock up with your sopping cunt. He growls next to your ear as he stretches over you and reaches for the cup of water, filling his cheeks and putting it back down within a couple seconds. With a quick grip of your jaw, he turns your head and meets his lips with yours.

Before you can process what’s going on you’re gulping down water as fast as you can. And when he pulls away, you’re yet again met with the hazy eyes of his rut. That’s when it dawns on you that whilst your heat is coming to an end, his rut is only getting stronger.

Rather than looking away, he locks his gaze onto you, just so he can watch your face screw as he slams his cock inside of you in one, hard thrust. It works a sudden, breathy moan from your mouth, eyebrows pinching together from the stretch. He holds his position, basking in the warmth and tightness of your cunt as his breath goes shaky.

“Wait.” You mumble weakly, shoving a hand behind you to push against his lower stomach. “Please.”

For the first time, you were telling him to stop.

His jawbone flutters as his eyes search yours. Restraint plasters to his face, and the only audible thing is his heavy breathing. He nods. Just once. A firm and intentional nod. He swallows the residual water left in his mouth and tenderly pulls out of you. You hear the thud of his footsteps quiet down as he nears the marui door, and then the splash of the water when he dives into the rough sea.

It’s pouring outside.

Storming, actually. Thundering and lightning. Yet he feels this is the only way he’d be able to resist the urge to storm back in and fuck you. But the instinct to protect his mate, even if it’s from himself, is more than enough to give him the willpower to walk away.

You take this moment to just breathe, turning your head to face the plush bed beneath you as you gather your thoughts. Did he just show that much restraint? Enough to walk away from a female na’vi during her heat cycle… all whilst in the height of his own rut cycle?

“Lekye’ung [insane]” You mutter, using your trembling hand to grab and bring the cup to your lips. They, too, are sore and chapped. Having gone so many hours without any food or water, you knock it back, shaking the cup to get out every drop. Finished already? You think to yourself, looking inside the cup with hazed vision, confirming it’s indeed empty.

After setting it back down onto the table, you slump back into the bedhead, relaxing your body. You’re sore. Actually, sore is an understatement. Every single muscle and fiber in your body burns—and that isn’t entirely due to your heat either now that it’s finally subsiding. Perhaps you should be taking this time to have a look at your… condition, but you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

So you give in, sinking further and further into the bed as you doze off.

—

A few hours go by and Ralak returns with a net of fish thrown over his shoulder and a bucket of fresh water perched on his hip. He carefully sets down the bucket and rests the net next to the fire pit. He’s cautious not to wake you, nor come too close to you. Ralak ignites the fire and fans the flame. As quietly as possible, he prepares and cooks the fish, setting them aside to wrap in the leaves of a spartan tree.

Since coming to Awa’atltu, one of your biggest adjustments—despite the obvious—has been your change in diet. Fish weren’t uncommon back home, but they certainly weren’t the main source of food. You prefer the other foods here, your favourite being what you call ‘inland boar’, which is an animal that resembles what your father calls a ‘pig’ from his star.

But not even that, (boar) could smell better than this (fish).

The aroma alone rouses you from your sleep.

Your eyes open to a dark room and a glowing fire pit. The fire is out but the wood remains hot, shifting among different shades of orange and red. Ralak sits beside it, with his back leaning against the support beam of the pod. His arms are crossed over his chest and his knees are slightly bent. It’s hard to see more than just his silhouette with the lack of moonlight.

“That smells good.” You rasp. Ralak’s eyes fly open to reveal a familiar shade of deep blue. Like the sea. They glow and flicker before you, examining you now that you’re sitting up out of bed.

Crack.

A bolt of lightning strikes in the distance, illuminating the room. For a moment, you were able to see every single bike mark, scratch and bruise you’ve given him. It also reveals that he’s shaking. Trembling from being wet and cold, or possibly from the strain he was putting himself through from just being in the same room as you.

Ralak moves quickly, shuffling to his feet and going right for the leaf that holds a few sloppily rolled fish. He brings it to you, setting it slowly on your lap, being overly cautious not to touch you. Grabbing your cup on the table, he dunks it in the bucket and sets it beside you.

“Eat.” He whispers, backing away to sit next to the pit. You watch as he slides down the beam and into a sitting position, and then glance down at your food. Saliva pools in your mouth from the aroma wafting up your nose.

You’re hungry.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, hastily stuffing an entire roll into your mouth.

You moan as you chew, nodding your head from how good it tastes. It’s hard to swallow, given that you bit off more than you could chew—literally—but when it finally goesdown you feel your stomach grumble for more. Ralak watches you intently. A wince screwing his face with every swallow he witnesses. And when you finish, you chug down your water and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Another crack of lightning strikes, and then a low, lengthy rumble of thunder follows.

“That was… one of the best you’ve made, lak.” You say with a wobbly smile, slowly getting on your feet to wash your hands. The bucket is nearby your mate, who is still fixed in position. Although he remains unmoving, his eyes follow your every move. You shake your hands to dry them and shuffle over to Ralak and sit next to him.

“so… how do you feel?” You ask quietly, raising your hand to check if he’s feverish. He turns his head before your hand can make contact with his skin and his gaze locks onto the charred wood in the fire pit.

“Fine.” Ralak mutters.

Eyebrows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try and look him in the eye. Your brows relax when you come to the realisation that he’s already taken care of himself. And only Eywa knows how many times.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I would have—”

“Ma’ muntxate [my wife]”He croaks, swiftly turning his head to look directly into your eyes. “Oeru txoa livu [please forgive me].”

“Txoa? [forgive?] What for, ma’ muntxatan? [husband]”

“I have… neglected you.” He’s struggling to speak. You can hear it in the strain of his voice.

Regardless, none of his words are really making any sense to you right now. How has he been neglectful? Despite the circumstances, it’s obvious he’s been trying his hardest to be good to you. Somehow, even conjuring up the strength to pull out of you and walk away.

“Ralak. You have not. Please, I—”

“Look at yourself.” He snaps, taking a quick glance at your body before dropping his head in his hands.

Crack.

Conveniently, another strike of lightning and boom of thunder, revealing exactly what he’s talking about. For a few seconds, you’re met with the sight of your battered body—scabbed and bruised. You lift your head, staring at his shameful demeanour. But the more you stare, the more you see your own reflection.

“And have you looked at yourself?” Your words bounce as you shuffle closer to him. “I bet you can’t even feel all that damage I’ve done to you.” You coo, using your thumb to gently graze past an easy six-inch scratch mark on his bicep. “I haven’t been so gentle with you either.”

Ralak shakes his head, allowing it to sink further into his hands. “You were starved.” He mumbles into the palms of his hands.

You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin in the dip between them. Your eyes wander over to the fire pit, catching sight of the outline of a few fish rolls.

Has he really punished himself by not eating?

“Have you eaten?” You ask, resting a gentle hand on his back.

“No need.”

“You should, you know. Don’t want you starving on me, lak.” You say lightheartedly, allowing your hand to slide up his spine and to the base of his skull.

He lets loose a quiet groan, fighting the twitch of his ears. Your fingers smooth over the base of his kuru, playing with the braid encasing that covers it. “If you do that—”

“Do what?” You whisper coyly, quickly running your hand down the length of his kuru.

His spine immediately straightens, his head lifting from his hands. The tips of your fingers gently make their way to his tendrils, carefully teasing them as they try to wrap around your digits. He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, allowing a shiver to run through him. It feels like your fingers were inside his skull, tickling his brain in the best way possible.

Reaching for your kuru with your free hand, you bring it up and over your shoulder. You lean into Ralak, your lips only inches away from his. You pull away your fingers to grip and pull his queue forth. The loss of contact has him sitting up straight, opening his eyes to look at you.

“I will not let you suffer alone.” You whisper, lessening the distance between the two of you, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly. He stills himself, even limiting his own breath so as not to make any sudden moves. “Okay?”

You wait for just a moment. For him to say something. To move away. But he remains stock-still, waiting for you to initiate this. You smile, your top teeth briefly rubbing against this lower lip, and lock your lips with his. He exhales through his nose, coming to life from your kiss and returning it full force. You take this as a good sign. A sign that you’ve broken through that wall once again, and bring your kurus together — making tsaheylu [the bond].

Both your eyes fly open, blown pupils staring into one another as your spirits unify. You both pull back, shoulders and chests heaving from your quick, unsteady breaths. You feel all that he feels – the frustration, the panic, the tension. It’s all fading, now finally nearing the end. He feels your subsiding heat, your soreness, your overpowering urge to care for him.

Before another second could pass, your lips crash into each other again—tongues intertwining as they explore one another’s mouth. Using his hand to support your upper back, he slowly lowers you onto the woven floor, parting your legs with his free hand. He situates himself between them, pressing his crotch firmly against yours. He’s warm, just like the toasty fire pit next to you.

I will try to be gentle. Ralak thinks to you, just like he’s been promising to be night after night.

I know you will. You smile, moving your kisses down his jawline as he slides his hands between your sticky pelvises.

——

It hasn’t even been two full weeks since the synchronous heat that had you and your mate locked away in your marui pod for a little over two days. Your back and thighs–and honestly everywhere else– still ache but outside of that, you feel like a brand new person. You weren’t able to confidently say that Ralak feels the same way, however.

Of course, he was adamant on limiting intimacy until you were ‘healed and recovered’. But, he had a bounce in his step. As if he were physically lighter. As if the weight of six years of pent up sexual frustration and self neglect melted off his back when you satiated the ‘insatiable’.

The constant aftercare was almost sickening. Even after most of your marks had faded he remained adamant on treating them with your own omaticayan herbs from back home. He praised them at every use, thanking your people for making such exceptional ’umtsa [medicine].

But as you entered the second week, after tons of reassurance, things dissipated and went back to normal. Ralak went back to his usual routine—fishing, hunting, responding to a few calls to Tonowari and your father. Ralak, without a doubt, made a vow to you and himself not to initiate anything until you were more than healed. But nonetheless clung to you in the nights.

He even, in fact, added a new step into your usual nighttime regimen. As usual, it began with the snuggles and tucking you under his arm just right, providing you with enough warmth to endure the cool night air. Then, he would release the perfect amount of pheromones to get you drowsy enough for bed.

But recently, he’s spent the past seven nights delaying the nightly routine until he’s had his fill of your scent. He’d lay himself down on your chest, nuzzling his face into your bosom and just breathe. You allowed it, thinking it was his own newfound way to wind down for bed.

Yet, the real reason was much different.

——

Right on the two week mark, Tsireya had roped you in with helping her with some of her Tsakrem duties. You were always happy to help her though, as it meant getting away from the marui pod for a little even if it meant being poked and prodded at.

And it certainly didn’t take long for that to happen.

Tsireya lets out a frustrated sigh and plops the medicinal pouch she’s weaving in her lap. “I can no longer ignore it, y/n. You smell different.”

You lift your head, tearing your focus from your task of weaving and look at her with a puzzled expression on your face. You bring the end of your tail to your nose and sniff, but smell… nothing. “Like what?” Her brows lower and her eyes glisten with concern. She purses her lips and unsheathes the lengthy pin from its casing and grabs your hand. “Here we go.” You mutter to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the sting.

Prick.

“Sss—ah! You need to be careful with how deep you go with that, you know. You could really—” The tsahik in training puts the wooden stick to her tongue and stares at you wide eyed, mouth agape. It’s as if she wants to speak but the words are lodged in her throat. “What? What is it?”

“You—perhaps I am wrong.” She stutters, quickly sheathing the tool back into its casing. “You should see my mother, y/n.”

“What? Why? Just tell me.” The words come out in a haste, and your voice is laced with panic. Do you have some sort of disease of the sea? Is there a cure?

“You — you are with child.” Her lips tremble as she says the words in an uncertain tone of voice.

“What?” You stare at her dumbfounded, a little caught off guard by her choice of words.

“Pregnant. You’re pregnant. But I am likely mistaken. I am only in training. Which is why I said you should see my moth—”

“Oh. No. You’re… you’re probably right, Tsireya.” You swallow the spit pooling in your cheeks, avoiding eye contact.

“H-How? I mean. I know how. But how? Surely Ralak knows not to do such a thing during your heat. He can control himself. R-Right?”

“Right. If I were the only one… in heat.” You say the last few words under your breath, fixing your shawl before picking back up your task.

“What do you mean?” Tsireya leans in with a tilted head, looking a little closer at your covered shoulder. “Did you help him with his rut?” Tsireya asks bluntly. “He’s been unmated for six years, y/n. Did you reall—”

“I am his mate. Of course I did.” You nearly snap, baffled by the tone she’s having with you.

“H-How did that even work?” Tsireya shakes her head, slowly raising her hand towards you.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally lift your head to shoot her a puzzled, yet offended stare. “It worked like it would for any other Na’vi.”

“Y/n…” Tsireya quickly grabs your shawl, pulling it off your shoulder to reveal a large, deep and scabbed up bite mark. It looks almost infected because of the strange omaticayan herbal concoction smeared over it. “You should have just let him ease you into it. Look at you, you’re all bruised and—”

“Tsireya.” You interject, “thank you for the concern, but—” you aggressively pull up your shawl, “I feel just fine. Besides, being in heat was the best way to ‘ease me into it’…He was as gentle as he could be.” You mutter, twiddling with the twine as you think back to the way he tried to handle you with care.

“By the looks of it, he was anything but gentle with you.” Tsireya seethes, angry that the man she grew up looking at like a brother would do something like this to you.

You wince at her words. They’re like a knife to the heart.

A long, awkward silence fills the space between you and Tsireya. She reflects on everything she’s said, realising that perhaps she was a little more harsh than needed. She softens her gaze, “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“I get it. I know you’re just looking out for me. It’s alright, ‘reya.”

You exchange lighthearted smiles.

“You are definitely pregnant then. After six years, he must have really filled you—”

“Tsireya!” You laugh, giving her shoulder a light shove.

Tsireya’s grin morphs into a more serious expression. “See mother to make sure. Okay?”

Your smile also fades into something softer as you nod your head in agreement. “Okay.”

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wreckedandpolemic · 14 days ago

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bunny ears and devil horns - matty healy

(mdni) in which your halloween costume gets your boyfriend so riled up that he needs to remind you who you belong to. part of the white and gold universe and promptober75 2024. 2717 words.

You fix the devil horns on the top of your head, watching your reflection to centre them. The girl in the mirror smirks back at you, lips painted a shade of red that matches your lingerie. It’s scarcely more than scraps of lace, accentuating your figure with straps that criss-cross over your body. A garter holds up your sheer stockings, feet tucked into red-bottom stilettos.

Squeezing into the red vinyl minidress that completes your “costume” is more of a task than you’d expected, but the effect is perfect. You text Matty a picture of your outfit and what’s underneath, captioned happy halloween, daddy ;) do you like the dress better on or off? Matty’s response is immediate, flashing up his contact before you’ve even put your phone down. You let it ring for a moment, make him sweat a little before you pick up with an innocent little, “Hello?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, princess. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

You giggle. “You know, this is why I call you an old man. You’re an old man with a weak heart, Matthew, and I’m going to inherit all your money when you die.”

“Behave yourself,” Matty teases. “You look gorgeous, princess. Have fun, be safe, don’t talk to any boys.” His grin is audible, and you groan.

“But what if they’re gonna give me free drinks?” you pout, half-jokingly wheedling.

“Especially not then,” Matty answers. “Should just let me drive up there instead. I can buy you much better booze than some grease-faced twenty-year-old boy, and I’m definitely better company.”

You laugh at how serious he sounds, his jealousy creeping in at the edges of his tone. “Oh, you wanna be the only man I’m using for his money, right? But it’s so fun, and they make it so easy.”

Matty practically growls, a low, frustrated noise filling your ear. “Will you behave? Such a slut, aren’t you, princess? Been too long since I’ve made you mine, huh?”

“You know I’m yours. Makes it more fun, letting them buy me drinks and think I’m gonna let them get anywhere before I tell them I have a real man waiting for me at home.”

He laughs, low and rich and sweet. “Music to my ears, princess. Have fun tonight, yeah? Call me when you’re home.”

“You sure? It’s gonna be past your bedtime.” Matty only scoffs, adding a soft I love you that makes you pout and long for him. “I love you too.”

You drink and dance your way through the evening, barely paying for anything and always slipping teasingly out of your suitors’ grasp. And it’s fun, it is, your head spinning joyfully as your friends pull you into the circle, but you miss Matty achingly, painfully conscious of the distance between you, how long it’ll be before you get to see him, have him, again.

Sure, it’s a little codependent, but you’ve never been so in love. A year ago, this would’ve been your ideal night, drunk and dancing and flirting to your heart’s content; now, though, all you want is to curl up in bed with your boyfriend and a vintage red. A little melancholy, you duck out early, barely making it to midnight and hoping you’ll still catch Matty once you’re home.

There’s an extra car in your driveway, but it’s too dark to make out the model or reg number, so you shrug and fumble with your keys to let yourself in. Coming face-to-face with Matty helping himself to coffee in your kitchen shocks you almost into sobriety, your knees practically buckling as you throw yourself into his arms. You press hungry, needy kisses over his face in a way that’s definitely indecent for your shared living space. “Hi, princess,” Matty grins.

“What are you doing here?” you laugh disbelievingly.

“Wanted to be waitin’ at home for you,” he smirks. “Make sure you remember what your real man feels like.”

You tilt your head knowingly. “You’re jealous,” you giggle. “Saw how hot I looked tonight and got mad that a bunch of silly boys were the only ones enjoying it, right?”

“Just wanna make sure everyone knows who you belong to, yeah?” You smirk, taking his hand and pulling him along to your bedroom. Matty slams you against the door as soon as it’s closed, kissing and licking and biting at your neck with abandon.

“Don’t I look pretty, Daddy?” you sigh, tilting your head to give him better access. “I want you to tell me how pretty I am, tell me everything you want to do to me,” you breathe, threading a hand into Matty’s curls and lifting his head. His eyes are black with lust when they meet yours, his lips swollen and spit-slick.

Groaning, he drops his hands to grab your ass, his gaze weighted and heavy. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, princess. So pretty for me, and only for me, yeah?” You nod feverishly. “Had to get off as soon as you hung up the phone, angel. God, this fucking dress. Couldn’t stop thinking about how gorgeous you’d look dancing, about bringing you home and getting on my knees, gettin’ you undressed and fucking you in just your belt and stockings.”

You moan, grinding against the bulge in his trousers; heat floods your body and drips into your panties, hunger gnawing between your thighs. “The shoes, too?” you tease, hooking one leg around him to press a stiletto heel against the back of his thigh.

“Shit, if you want,” Matty answers, lifting you off your feet and laying you on the bed. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, half to himself. “D’you mind if I take a picture, princess? I just— y’so pretty, so perfect.”

Eagerly, you nod. “You’re so sweet, so good to me. Make me so happy,” you beam. “Y’gotta fuck me like a whore, though, okay? Maybe I was a bad girl tonight, drinking and flirting with boys to make them think they had a chance,” you say, a teasing pout playing on your lips. You toss your head wildly, posing provocatively for Matty’s camera.

“Such a dirty little girl,” he smirks. “You wanna get punished? Get that pathetic excuse for a dress off for me, okay, princess?” He’s still standing at the foot of your bed, camera poised, when you reach up at him.

“Can’t take it off on my own,” you say, biting your lip and rolling over. “S’too tight. I’m stuck,” you add, deliberately playing up the porn dialogue and arching your back. You moan happily when he straddles the backs of your thighs, his fingers warm as they find your zipper and tug gently.

Torturously slow, Matty unzips you, like you’re a gift wrapped up all for him. A stuttering gasp leaves his lips as he pulls the dress off you, grabbing your ass and kneading like he can’t resist. He spanks you harshly, and you arch greedily up into his touch. “This fucking ass drives me crazy, princess. You want me to fuck you there later?”

Your cunt throbs with need. “Please,” you moan into the sheets. “S’all yours, Daddy. Do whatever you want with me. But make me hurt first, okay? You gotta teach your little slut a lesson,” you add, smirking over your shoulder at him as his eyes go black with lust.

“So fuckin’ needy,” he scoffs, smacking the inside of your thigh. Sweet pleasure-pain arcs under your skin, hot and dizzying. “You want everyone to know who you belong to, hm? Gonna make you scream loud enough for the entire city to hear,” he smirks. Without even waiting for the instruction, you shift into your favourite position for him; face down, ass up and ready for whatever he wants to give. You knead a lace-clad breast in one hand, pinching and rolling your nipple through the thin fabric. “Jesus, y’fucking soaked through, princess,” Matty mutters, pulling your panties to the side and spitting on your dripping cunt.

You moan helplessly against your pillow, writhing greedily as you feel his spit dripping down your skin. “Daddy, please,” you beg. “M’so needy, so wet for you, I can’t wait any longer.” You gasp, entire body jolting as Matty leans down, licks a broad stripe over your cunt, kisses your clit.

“You can’t wait?” Matty says, mocking tone sending the need hammering in your veins into a fever pitch. “Greedy girl wants to get filled up and punished?” You moan out an affirmative, feeling his weight shift as he leans over to your bedside drawer and pulls out a toy. You hear him uncap a bottle of lube and slick up the toy, cunt clenching when he presses it gently against your hole. “You ready?”

“Please, Daddy. Please stop teasing. I can’t— fuckkk,” you cry, the suddenness of Matty slamming the toy into you sending liquid heat spiralling through your body. “Shit, yes,” you moan, breaking into a keening wail when he switches the toy on, the rabbit sending pulses of pleasure so intense at your clit that it nearly hurts.

“There you go, darling. All ready now, huh?” Without waiting for an answer, Matty brings his hand down to smack your ass hard. Every slap jolts the vibrator against your swollen clit, garbled whines falling pathetically from your lips. Your ass is flaming red and stinging as Matty brings his hand down again, pleasure coiling tight at the base of your spine. “Look so gorgeous all bruised up for me, princess. You’re matchin’ that pretty lace.” Your hips shift, at once desperately chasing pleasure and retreating from overstimulation.

Arching your back, you grind down against the vibrator, already melting into a slick puddle of need. “Daddy,” you whine, without even knowing what you’re pleading for. Pleasure winds itself tight through your body, your muscles tense and your head spinning.

Matty strokes the curve of your ass gently, smacks you hard, and you gasp, a high whine falling from your lips as the vibrator presses insistently against your clit. “Oh, sweet girl,” he sighs. “You gonna cum?” he coos, one hand sliding around to your front and gently cradling you. You nod helplessly, garbled whines falling from your lips. “Oh, baby. Go on, princess. Cum for me. You look so pretty when you cum, darling.”

One more hard slap to your inner thigh has you screaming, pitching headfirst into pure ecstasy. “Ohmygod, Daddy, yes!” you cry, face buried in the pillow as tears brim in your eyes. Pleasure clenches vice-tight around your organs, bordering on pain in your cunt where the vibrator still hammers against your sensitive nerves. Arousal drips down your legs, incoherent moans falling from your lips and heat licking in your belly.

Your cunt clenches as Matty pulls the toy free and you whine. “God, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your swollen clit. “You ready for Daddy to take what he needs, princess?”

You giggle breathlessly. “What do you need, Daddy?”

“Need to fuck this slutty little pussy, darling. Need to hear those pretty noises you make, fill you up, make sure you remember whose girl you are, alright?” Matty says, almost a moan.

“Please,” you breathe out, and the word’s barely left your lips before he’s inside you, your soaked cunt taking him greedily. Desire pulses heady between your legs, your back arching as you try desperately to fuck yourself back on him.

Matty’s nails dig into your hips, pain flaring where his body meets the sore flesh of your ass. “God, you feel so good, princess. Missed this sweet cunt so bad. Gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t remember your own name, beautiful,” he promises, slamming his hips hard against yours.

Whimpering softly, your eyes slip shut as Matty’s fingers trail slickly over your wet clit. “Wish we could just fucking stay like this forever,” you groan, dazed and swimming in pleasure with Matty buried to the hilt inside you. You can feel him nearly trembling with the effort of holding still. “Give it to me, Daddy,” you plead. “I need it. Need it so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Such a little cockslut, princess. Want Daddy to fuck you dumb, right?” You nod frantically, whining out affirmatives as he traces his thumb over your hip. “S’it okay if I turn you over, darling? Wanna kiss my sweet girl while I make her stupid for me.”

Even though you agree, a whine slips out of you when he pulls out, just for a second, to flip you over. He smiles softly down at you, adoring, brushes a stray piece of hair off your face. Pouting, you arch up towards Matty until he gives you what you want; a slow, deep kiss as he fills you exactly the same way. Ecstasy floods your body, Matty’s hips slamming hard against yours as he drips moans into your mouth. “That’s my good little girl,” he murmurs, kissing your neck. “Just gotta lay back and take it, okay, princess? Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

“So good to me,” you groan, locking your legs around his waist and pressing your heel into his back. Matty’s pained little moan falls straight to your cunt, pulses in your ears, slick, sweet noises filling the room. “Mmh, Daddy,” you whine, high and needy as he fucks into you.

Matty groans into your neck, sucks a bruise into soft skin. “My sweet girl,” he sighs, covering his mouth with yours. “Always so good for me, even when you’re a little slut,” he teases, circling your clit as you thrash under him.

Wild, erratic pleasure spills under your skin, your body precariously close to its end. “M’your little slut,” you moan, threading a hand through Matty’s curls and pulling him in for a kiss. “M’so close, Daddy, please!”

Smiling against your lips, Matty pinches your clit softly. “D’you deserve it, princess?” he asks, low and slightly dangerous. You bite your lip. “Nah, I didn’t think so either. Luckily for you, I’m feelin’ generous, angel. I’ll let you cum…” You bate your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “If you beg for it,” he adds with a smirk.

“Please, Daddy,” you gasp. “Please let me cum, I need it. Need you, want you all the time, please,” you practically scream, dissolving into incoherent, wanton pleas as Matty fucks into you over and over.

Your pulse hammers between your thighs, cunt clenching desperately around him. “Go on, princess. Cum for Daddy. Soak my cock, yeah?”

He tweaks your nipple, kisses your pulse point, slams hard into you, and you break. Your body collapses in on itself, pleasure crumbling your muscles one by one as you moan out the only word you know; Daddy. Pure ecstasy wipes your mind clean, melts into a hot puddle between your legs, Matty’s body warm and grounding against yours.

You smile blithely up at him, scrunching your face when he pulls out. “Wanna paint these pretty tits, angel. You gonna let me?” Eagerly, you nod, arching your back to press your tits up towards him. Your eyes fall to his cock, slick with your arousal and drooling precum as he strokes himself. The column of Matty’s neck stretches beautifully as he throws his head back in pleasure, moaning sweetly. He chokes out your name as he comes, cum splashing across your tits.

“You wanna get one more picture?” you grin, and Matty nods with wide eyes, fumbling for his phone and breathing hard as he photographs you. You start to draw patterns in the mess across your chest, sucking your fingers into your mouth and cleaning his cum off them.

“Such a little cumslut, princess. Love how filthy you are,” Matty murmurs, leaning down to kiss you and moaning quietly at his own taste. There’s a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in his demeanour, then, and you catch the moment with both hands.

Smirking a little, you reach up to tug on his hair. “I saw that, Daddy. It’s okay, you got what you needed, can just be my good boy now. I’ll take care of you,” you promise, rolling on top of him and pressing your bodies together. The sticky mess of him smears between your chests, and you kiss him softly. “I’ll let you have whatever you want, Daddy. Just gotta say please.”

#i’m actually. quite disappointed w this one #i’ve been wanting to write it since i first wrote white and gold and i bigged it up so much in my head that it can’t live up 😟#matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #white and gold #promptober75

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glorious-spoon · 12 days ago

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hi spoon, it's Team! thanks for playing oml I'm excited. OKAY drum roll: 🌃 dark and 🥧 cooking/baking! - @team-118

hi @team-118! a couple of days late, but i hope you enjoy! <3

1.4K words | teen

pre-relationship buck/eddie | mentioned buck/tommy | emotional hurt/comfort | baking

Insomnia Baking [on Ao3]

The kitchen is peaceful late at night. It's dark other than the soft glow of the oven light, which means that Eddie can't actually see the mess that he's going to have to clean up tomorrow morning, and the air smells warm and sweet with the smell of baking.

It's peaceful. With the lights off, in the midnight quiet, he can almost convince himself that Chris is sleeping right down the hall. It's a nice fantasy. At thirteen—fourteen, he reminds himself with a sharply unpleasant pang—Chris is less easy with his affection, but like any growing boy, he's always happy to eat the results of Eddie's insomnia baking. Or he was, when he still lived here.

Eddie's got a dozen chocolate chip cookies in the oven, and another two cooling on the stove top. There's no way he'll be able to eat them all on his own.

He can bring some in to the station. Tomorrow's his day off, but they'll keep fine until his next shift, and he can leave them out there for an appreciative audience instead of spending the next week eating increasingly stale cookies for breakfast by himself.

He heaves the oven mitts onto the counter, then slides down the cabinets until he's sitting on the floor, staring at the stove. The oven door is partially obscured by the distowel he's got hung up on the handle. A Halloween patterned one he forgot to put away—cheerful jack o' lanterns, possibly inherited from Abuela, possibly something he or Buck picked out with Chris. He can't actually remember. Inside the oven, the cookies are starting to spread on the baking pan, the edges of the chocolate chips going soft and melty. The smell of sugar and chocolate and butter fills his nose when he heaves a deep breath, and then another, feeling like he's suffocating. The timer on the stove silently counts down: nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds. Just under ten minutes before Eddie has to find a way to get up off his ass and turn the oven off so he doesn't top off this absolute shitshow of a month by setting his kitchen on fire. He can almost hear Buck ragging on him about it—Come on, Eddie, if you wanted some company you could have just called me.

He digs his phone out of his pocket, stares at the screen, then sets it face down on the floor and stares at the cookies some more.

Then he thuds his head back against the cabinet, picks up the phone again, scrolls through his contacts without looking, and hits the call button.

Buck picks up fast enough to make him feel gratified, and also kind of guilty, given the hour. "E-eddie?"

"I'm not having a breakdown," Eddie says, to the note of fear in Buck's voice. Or if he is, it's not a serious one. "Do you want to come over and eat some cookies?"

"I—is that supposed to be a metaphor?"

"For what? No," he adds, before Buck can answer. "It's not a metaphor."

"You were stress baking again," Buck concludes, sounding calmer. There's some shuffling on the other end of the line. Eddie wonders idly if Tommy is staying the night, and then wonders how much he actually cares about interrupting them if that's the case.

The answer is, less than he probably should.

"I was stress baking again," Eddie confirms. "How about it?"

Any normal person would say no. It's well past midnight, and while they don't exactly keep regular hours, he knows he woke Buck up just now. But it's not at all a surprise when Buck says, "Yeah, of course, be there in, like…" his voice fades and dips for a moment, like he's holding the phone away from his face. "Uh, half an hour?"

It's closer to forty-five minutes, which means that Eddie has time to pry himself off the kitchen floor and take the cookies out of the oven and try to find room for them on the cooling racks. He turns the stove off and starts cleaning up after himself one mindless, methodical step at a time, which is pretty much the same way he's gotten through every task in front of him since May. Flour and sugar and chocolate chips in the pantry, eggs and butter in the fridge, mixing bowls and spoons in the dishwasher along with the utensils for his solitary take-out dinner. He turns it on to run even though it's not even half full and it'd probably be less of a hassle to wash everything by hand.

Eddie wonders again if Tommy is there. What explanation Buck is giving him, if so. He doesn't ask. "Okay. Half an hour."

The noise makes the house feel less empty.

It doesn't take long. When he's finished, he stands in the clean, empty kitchen, palms braced against the edge of the sink, and stares out into the night, the vague smear of his reflection in the dark glass.

There are lights on in the house across the street. Soft ones, from one of the bedroom windows. They have a toddler, Eddie knows—he sees them outside sometimes, in passing. A little girl with a dark cloud of hair just like her mom's. She probably gets nightmares. It's common for that age, or at least that's what he hears. He missed most of it with Chris, and even during those rare weeks when he was home, Shannon was the one their son asked for in the middle of the night.

Headlights sweep across the lawn, then come to a stop in his driveway. Eddie stays where he is and watches Buck climb out, lock the Jeep, cross over to the sidewalk, and vanish out of sight around the corner of the house. A moment later, the lock clicks open.

Buck doesn't call out or even turn on any lights. Eddie listens to him pull his shoes off, the sound of his sock-clad feet on the floor as he moves down the dark hallway.

"Hey," he says quietly from the doorway of the kitchen, and Eddie turns.

He's wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair flattened on one side. The hives are pretty much gone, other than faint red blotches along his cheek and jaw, and his eyes are soft.

"You didn't actually have to haul yourself all the way over here at one AM," Eddie says, to cover for the near-frantic relief spreading through him. He sort of wants to rush across the kitchen and collide with the warm solidity of Buck's body, maybe burrow into his skin, but he doesn't move.

Buck scoffs and steps into the kitchen, scruffing a hand through his hair. "I was promised cookies."

"Well," Eddie says, and waves a hand at the cooling racks. He'll need to dig out some containers at some point.

"Sweet," Buck says, and crosses over to the stove to grab three off the top of the stack. He takes an enormous bite, licks half-melted chocolate off of his thumb, and grins at Eddie. "They're good."

"Thanks."

"Did you have any yet?"

"No." Eddie gestures vaguely at the kitchen, the quietly churning dishwasher. "I was cleaning up."

Buck hums under his breath and takes another bite of his cookie, watching Eddie with that soft, thoughtful look that's more perceptive than most people give him credit for. Then he holds out the cookies in his hand. "Here."

"I don't—"

"Eddie."

"Okay," Eddie sighs. He takes one of the cookies and bites into it.

It is good. He takes another bite, swallows hard around the lump in his throat, and pretends he doesn't know Buck is watching him while he eats the entire thing.

"Want to talk about it?" Buck asks once he's done, quiet. When Eddie shakes his head, he doesn't push it, though. "Okay. I figure if we finish off another half dozen of these, we can probably fit all the rest in one of those big Tupperware containers under the sink."

Eddie laughs roughly, smears the back of his hand across his mouth. "Why do you think I asked you over?"

"Uh huh," Buck scoffs. He eats another cookie in three large bites, which is objectively gross and makes Eddie feel stupidly fond anyway. "Well, always happy to help."

"Yeah," Eddie says, and he knows there's too much showing in his voice, in his face, he knows that, but he can't help it. It's one in the morning and Buck is in his kitchen, because he asked, and his house is still too empty, the vacant bedroom down the hall a hollow ache that he can feel in his chest—but. It feels easier—a little easier—to breathe now. "Yeah, I know you are."

#911 #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #prompt fic #my fic

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kiss-me-muchoo · 1 month ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: i think i’m finally clean || part two: HERE

summary_ after a failed desperate attempt from Joel to get you back, you go missing while doing patrol, which leads to the Millers having to go and find you.

warnings_ age gap! (not specified tho), angst, fluff, ANGST, emotionally constipated Joel!, lots of apologies, mostly Joel’s POV

notes_this was supposed to be 1989 related like part one but I love Suki’s new album so much and it’s so Joel Miller coded, Legendary is all I played while creating this.

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚)

♪ ♫ 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙋𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀

…

How could there be a disco ball in the room? Who found it? And where?

You weren’t expecting much from the Halloween party in Jackson to be honest. But turned out to be full of people with mid-costumes made by the first thing they could come up with. At a long table, you could spot a jar of fruit punch, some simple pastries, and snacks.

Some music was playing as many couples danced on the improvised dance floor. You only stared as you drank some alcohol your friend Lia sneaked in.

“Hey, love your outfit,” Sally says, a friend of yours who also worked in the gardening business of Jackson with you.

“Thanks, Sally. I also love yours” She has a crimson dress with her old usual boots and some fake blood everywhere, made with berries and pomegranate juice. You know because you helped her out with that.

“It’s been ages since I saw so many people gathered. Not even on Christmas” You nod, although you hadn’t lived in Jackson long enough like her.

“I guess Halloween really is that time of the year” she laughs and offers you a gentle smile.

“Hey… I’ve heard Joel has been trying to talk to you”

“I’m not in the mood to handle him or his bratty little girl right now…” Sally laughs even harder at your words. But you’re being serious. For a whole night, you don’t want to think about Joel and Ellie. They are around, you saw once the man talking with Tommy, helping him to drag some trash cans. The girl on the other hand was barely talking with a girl who looked around her age.

“Perhaps… but it’s so hot of him to keep trying with you,” she says and you scoff shrugging.

“You made it sound like he wants to seduce me”

“He may be…”

“No. Oh my God, no, Sally.” You say crossing your arms. Completely missing the pair of eyes that were fixated on you.

“You spent months with him and Ellie in the wild. I swore you were a family when you arrived here the first time”

“I used to think we were a family too. But that’s long forgotten. I’m good right now. Without them…”

Sally doesn’t push it anymore. But she thinks you’re trying to ignore your emotions. And she can’t judge you, she saw how Joel treated you the day of the vegetables.

“Let’s just forget about it, I’m in the mood to dance.” You add, dragging her and improvising some lame dancing along the 90s music playing.

…

Your vision is spinning. The lights that made the party feel like a real disco now seem to be violent faded dots. But you don’t feel sick, you feel light.

It’s nearly past midnight. And there’s still a lot of people in the party. All of the kids of Jackson have been long ago finished with the trick or treating. Sally found a guy to spend the night with and you told her to enjoy but also be careful.

And so you’re also ready to call it a day. You got dressed for Halloween ever since the outbreak. You witnessed a big party, you kissed two guys for fun and you were drunk as hell.

You couldn’t recall another day as happy as that Halloween.

When you almost trip when going down the stairs of the dining hall, you have to sit on them, laughing.

For some seconds, you can see the blurred image of the bright yellow moon. It’s a cold night, but nothing near freezing.

“…y/n?” You hear a male voice calling you.

It was Joel.

“Not tonight, Joel.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I don’t give a shit, I can stand and make it home,” you say calmly. Although you’re drunk, you still feel very conscious.

“I’m takin’ you home” Joel barely grabs your arms when you squirm away from him, standing up immediately.

“For fucks sake, Joel. I want you away from me. A-W-A-Y… GET AWAY FROM ME!” He was taken aback. And there was nowhere to hide his feelings. Joel had been painfully hurt by your words. Even when he had heard the same hours ago, this time hurt even more.

“All of your friends say you keep avoiding the way you feel. Why can’t you just let me speak then you can ignore me the rest of your life?” He shouldn’t be arguing back when you’re drunk. He really shouldn’t.

“Because I’m not interested in whatever shit you will say. You never gave me the chance to speak back then… Remember?…” you say dragging every word with a vague look that only confirms how drunk you are.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I’m sorry. To Ellie, to me… you are family.”

Your eyes prickle with tears.

Suddenly you’re sober. Your brain works perfectly fine. So you cry.

Joel sees the first tears rolling down and he sighs. He couldn’t comprehend your side of the story because you were excluding him and Ellie. But he wanted to be in your life again. He was a man who had changed so much after Salt Lake.

Joel was open to being vulnerable, just for you.

His body moves closely, attempting to embrace you in a hug. Or at least touch you.

But you move away.

“I need time…” you say before walking away with weak steps but a confident pace.

You don’t dare to look back. The way home is more quiet than silence itself. You block every thought regarding Joel while you wash your hair in the shower. And you are even scared to think about it as you light the candle on your nightstand.

…

Two weeks without any contact with the little Miller family pass by. Ellie sees you in the garden and picking vegetables to send to the kitchen and the rest for livestock or as fertilizer. She also saw you once in the dining hall with your friends laughing and gossiping. And the young girl couldn’t help but think she hadn’t seen you laugh like that. Not ever since you and Joel used to mess with Ellie about the dirty tee shirt she always wore.

Joel goes to your house one night and spots you outside, taking care of your plants, humming some songs, and wearing pajamas. He stood there in the shadows like a creep for more minutes. He looked carefully at how you sat on a patio couch you had near your door and got into the book you pulled out.

Joel reminisced the night Ellie and he had a hateful dinner. They recalled the moment they met you some miles away from Boston. And by the end of the memory, when you told them you were staying in Jackson instead of going with them to the Fireflies in Salt Lake, Ellie snapped. The girl and Joel briefly argued, blaming each other for treating you so bad. But soon Ellie made Joel say three precious words.

He loved you.

And seeing you alone, in your home, almost a year after taking separate ways, only made Joel desperate to feel worthy of your affection.

…

The Miller brothers carried heavy piles of carved wood for a new library the men had built during the summer. Joel and Tommy never lost their contractor’s touch. They beautifully worked so well that ended up giving advice to the younger ones. It was a normal day. That morning a group left to patrol as usual. Others prepared the food of the day. Others refurbished the town. The kids went to school. Everything was normal. Joel was pulling splinters out of his left hand, ready to go home. Ellie discovered the new guitar Joel got, so she seemed curious about the instrument.

His home smelled like cedar and burnt wood. Joel rolled his eyes, watching how Ellie forgot to wash the dishes again. But he was tired, he went straight to take a shower and soon landed on his couch. His muscles relaxed and he closed his eyes for a minute.

Which turned into two hours.

“JOEL!” Ellie yells on his face, waking him up.

“What the fuck, kid?”

“Tommy is here, y/n didn’t come back with her patrol group.” His eyes opened wide as soon as he heard the girl.

“What?”

“She’s missing…” Ellie sounded scared, even anxious. Joel immediately got the chills. He sighed and quickly stood up, ignoring the way his back cracked.

In the kitchen, Tommy sat, looking stressed out.

“What happened?” Joel crosses his arms, already losing his patience.

“Patrol was coming back when some raiders attacked them. It was y/n who gained time for the group, and said she would follow soon, but she didn’t” Joel sighed once again.

“How long ago?” Ellie asked timidly.

“Almost three hours ago…” Joel huffs. Angered at his brother, he gave the table a slight slap.

“Why you didn’t tell me sooner?” Tommy tried to calm him down. The whole reason why he avoided his older brother was because he would get stressed. He had hoped that the other groups that went out to find you would come back with great news.

“The group is almost back but now news so far…”

“I’ll go to find her…”

“I said we’ve already sent people around the area…” Tommy says, but Joel rolls his eyes, putting on his boots. Unbeknownst to Tommy, his last resource was Joel. And deep down, he disapproved of the age gap between you two, but he wanted nothing but your happiness and Joel’s.

“Tommy. I’ll go find her.”

“I’m coming too” Ellie quickly says.

“No. You stay here.”

“Joel. I won’t be able to sleep knowing you could be out there alone. Even worse if she’s hurt or…”

“Don’t say it…” Tommy pleads with the girl, so she nods.

Joel’s heart pounds in his ribcage. He is scared, to be honest. And he wants nothing but to grow wings so he can quickly find you.

“Is there any place you haven’t checked?” Joel asks, putting on his jacket. Ellie opens the closet near the entrance and grabs her and Joel’s emergency backpacks.

“There’s a cabin only Maria, the meds, and council know about…” Tommy reveals.

“And y/n too…”

“Yes, Ellie. It’s only for emergencies, hidden near a cliff, where the bushes grow wilder and perfect to disguise raiders and infected.”

“Where is the cabin exactly?” loading his rifle and grabbing more bullets, Joel asks to his brother.

“About an hour away from here. If you go now, you’ll make it before the night falls. I’ll check it in a map…” the man grabs the paper from his pocket, marking a red circle around the green area.

“There’s a lot of apple trees near the area. We collect from there every fall, once you start seeing rotten apples in the way, you’ll know you’re very close” Tommy says.

“Remember. We have a periwinkle ribbon hidden in the bushes. That’s the entrance. Be careful, Joel. And good luck, to the three of you…”

At that moment, Joel realized he would find you in a bad position or a terrible one he didn’t even want to imagine it.

But he was full of fate.

“She’s alive. Right, Joel?” Ellie asks once the gates of Jackson opened and the pair left in two horses.

“Of course she’s alive…” he confidently replies. But the pounding of his heart made him conscious of the anxiety he was feeling.

…

The woods howl with every sound of the wind pushing dry leaves around. So far Joel hadn’t used a single bullet. The way was clear. Only the fainted sounds of the waterfalls and the eco of the cliffs.

There were indeed a lot of apple trees. With the sun almost gone, the burgundy spheres hanging from the trees looked even more majestic.

“I guess we’re here…” Joel announced, putting his feet on the ground.

“Look for the periwinkle ribbon, Joel” the man nodded.

Sneaking his hands through the bushes, he could feel some thorns. At first glance, those bushes looked very intimidating. As if poison would suddenly leak from their tiny white flowers.

“Found it!” Joel didn’t get it, but when he tried to pull the ribbon, he lifted a whole branch attached to it.

“Holy shit!” Ellie gasped surprised to see that the bushes were actually very light.

“The horses can make it inside too. You go first…” Ellie nods, taking the lead.

Then followed Joel, leading his horse inside the property and then making sure the ribbon was completely hidden.

The Cabin was small, rustic, and surrounded by the same bushes and big rocks. It was strategically positioned where the pines and apple trees could disguise it.

“She’s here. Look…” Ellie says, pointing at your backpack and a rifle thrown on the stairs of the cabin.

“Stay back…” he indicated, firmly holding his rifle in case of anything.

Both went up the stairs and were notified the door was barely closed as if they had been in a rush. Joel opened the door slowly and when the view was granted, he saw you on the floor pointing at him with a small pistol.

“It’s okay, it’s just me and Ellie,” he said dropping and rifle and literally running towards you.

“Joel?” You ask looking at his barely distinguishable silhouette.

“I told you once. Don’t go where I can’t follow, darlin’…” he says, but you can’t hear him.

Ellie finally saw you and noticed you were sweating so much, panting for air. The skin of your neck looked between pink and lilac. For some seconds, she thought you had been bitten.

“You can’t breathe,” Joel noticed when you literally dropped your head against the wooden floor.

“J-Joel… My- ribs. It hurts…” you barely spoke and tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hand grasped his and didn’t want to let go.

“Shh… we’re here. I’m gonna take care of you”

Respectfully, Joel tore your long-sleeved top. You had a silk bra that looked very vintage but that wasn’t capturing all of Joel’s attention.

You had indeed swollen ribs. Your right side looked awful in comparison to the left one. There was also a small cut in your shoulder, but your ribs were painted in shades of red, purple, and blue.

The man turned to see the girl standing at the door. Ellie couldn’t hide it, she seemed scared, her eyes slightly teary.

“No tears, she’s gonna be okay. Now help me with the remedies and medicine we have” she nodded.

By the time Joel had finished putting ointments and giving a local spraying of anesthesia, you had completely fallen asleep. Ellie helped him to put a bandage around your ribs and the man carried you to a room that had a bed.

Joel took a brief glance at you and sighed in relief. You were alive, and your chances of survival were big. He just had to take care of you. Like he should have since the first time.

…

You wake up violently, quickly trying to sit down because you can’t remember anything. Your last memory was the raiders shooting and hitting you with his rifle, throwing you off of your horse.

“Hey, easy there!” you immediately stop, encountering Ellie beside you.

One thing was for sure; you felt amazing compared to the day before.

“What are you doing here?” She sighed.

“Patrol came back and you were missing. Since nobody could find you, Tommy suspected you were here. So Joel and I came…” your eyes closed in embarrassment. Blurred memories of them stepping inside the cabin, you pointing at them, telling Joel how bad you were in pain, and Ellie helping him to bandage you.

“Thank you.” She nods, but her lips get sealed, like she wants to say more but she’s unsure.

“I’m sorry.”

“You were the closest thing I had like family and Joel and I fucked up everything,” Ellie says looking away.

“When we’re grieving the past, we get so scared to mess up our present. Which makes us mad and terrified.” You tell her with a little smile.

And you also talk to yourself, because you were so hurt by how they treated you that it made you feel scared of getting hurt again by them.

“Joel said you needed time. But do you think you already have an answer about us being friends ever again?”

You can’t make a teenager beg for your forgiveness. Every single person you know has suffered. All have sacrificed something. And you didn’t want to grow old alone.

“Come here…” you tell her and in less than a second you have Ellie hugging you tightly.

“Wait… my ribs” she breaks off the contact, looking scared.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I-“

“Ellie, it’s okay…” you smile at her and she reciprocates it.

“Where’s Joel?”

“Patrolling around. She already signaled to Tommy we were fine. He also went to get something to eat. There’s nothing of food besides the bread and water we brought.”

“Oh…”

“Joel can be an asshole. After all, we both know him so well. But… give him a chance, please” Your smile grows. It makes you blush because Ellie sounds like she’s implying Joel had feelings for you.

Ever since you met him, you developed a crush on him. But he was a grumpy old man, he never showed any sign of romantic attraction towards you.

“I could give him a chance, but I think everyone has misinterpreted the way he feels for me,” you say, remembering how Sally implied the same time during the Halloween party.

“You know how Tommy looks at Maria?” You nod at her.

“That’s the same way Joel looks at you. And I’ve never experienced it, but I know that must be love”

Was the girl in the correct?

…

It’s already late when the need to get out of bed gets stronger. You took a very careful shower, and with every droplet of cold water that washed you, you also repeated every word Ellie said. You could easily admit you loved Joel. Even after everything. Because was there in the harder days out in the wild. You were a stranger he also carried wherever he was going. And always reminded you how strong you were.

“Ellie!” The girl appeared with her hair also wet.

“Can you help me go downstairs?. I want to help you with dinner” you said.

Ellie carefully grabbed your hands to help you stand from the bed. As soon as she opened the door, the smell of apples and cinnamon hit you.

“What are you cooking?” You asked her.

“Just apples with honey and cinnamon…”

“Smells really good, Ellie” she thanks you, paying extra attention as you walk down the stairs.

Just when you make it safely. The front door opened. Joel came in with a dead rabbit in his hands.

“You’re awake…” he said surprised.

“I am…” you reply feeling your face burn in red.

“How are you feeling?” He asks scratching the back of his head.

“Better. Thanks to both of you”

“It’s nothing”

Ellie can’t stop looking between you and the man. She has a little dorky smile and her heart beats in hopes you two can solve your problems.

“Can I skin that rabbit?” You ask him shyly. He looks down at the rabbit and then back at you.

“Let me do that. But if you feel okay, you can cook it” You nod, offering him a brief smile that takes him aback.

“Okay. I’ll wait for Ellie in the kitchen.”

Joel is shocked. Ellie has to go and pinch his ribs to take him down to earth again.

“Don’t mess it up.” She says.

“What?”

“I think we’re okay now. Talk to her tonight, please” he sighs but nods.

“Joel?” The girl asks.

“Hmm?”

“I think y/n feels the same way about you. But she doesn’t think you do.”

His heart beats softly but hurriedly. Joel has to hide his smile as Ellie walks away into the kitchen.

…

Dinner was quiet. Some words were exchanged. Mainly about your accident. You explained how the raiders ambushed you and your group. After gaining time for your partners to leave, there was nobody left to save you. A man hit your head with his rifle, then your ribs. You fell from your horse and barely noticed when the raiders left. Your body dragged itself towards the cabin, where all of your energy disappeared and your Brian processed the pain.

Thankfully, you had two saviors. Joel and Ellie appeared and saved your life.

The plan was to go back to Jackson the following morning. You agreed as long as your health lets you. Ellie helped you go upstairs again as Joel cleaned the dishes. You said good night to the girl and went to brush your teeth. By fortune, you always carried first necessity items in your backpack.

There is no electricity in the upper rooms. But there are tons of bottles of wine, soda, and old glasses with half-melted candles. It made it a little harder while showering. But after feeling clean, relaxed, and lonely, it brings a sense of peacefulness.

In the mirror, you encounter a woman whose body is tired but her mind is starting to feel at peace. You have decided that if Joel came knocking at the door, you would let the past go and you would focus on the present.

But your hopes die a little when an hour passes and you are still alone in the room.

And just when you’re about to give up, you hear it.

A knock on your door.

You encounter Joel with the same clothes he arrived with. However, his hair is slicked back and wet from the shower he took. You remain silent as he stares closely at you.

“Can we talk?” The man asks.

“Okay…”

You let him step inside. Joel sits on the little couch that faces the bed, and both of you stare in silence. There’s a distant howling from coyotes or jackals near the area. But then, you only pay attention to Joel. He continuously moved his hands and tried to speak up but couldn’t.

“Ellie said you and her are okay,” he says and you nod, avoiding his gaze. You hear him sigh.

“If I had accepted sooner how important you are to me, I would’ve given you the whole night to tell me why you couldn’t come with Ellie and me to Salt Lake” he starts, bringing you back to the night where the doctor of Jackson told you your body was full of anemia. That if you went out to the wild again, you’d likely suffer a breakdown.

“I would’ve understood, I would’ve told you I’d be back. But I didn’t because… I guess I got scared, I was convinced you were abandoning Ellie. But mostly me… I got used to having you in my life. And thought you wanted to take separate ways as soon as you discovered you could have a better life in Jackson”

“I started to feel dizzy that day. If I hadn’t felt anything, I wouldn’t visited the doctor and I would have gone with you and Ellie” you admit looking at the melting candles.

Joel feels a little worse. But it only makes him even more eager to stand up and walk towards you.

You witness how he goes down to his knees with difficulty, knowing his bones are tired. It takes you aback when he grabs your hands and gives you the softest look.

“I’m sorry. For everything. When I saw you were back, so full of life and willing to keep explaining to us what happened, I kept acting like an asshole. That’s not what a man does to the woman he’s in love with…”

You quickly look at his eyes again, trying to see if what he said was true or not. He briefly smiled, tender to see the way you reacted.

“I probably won’t stop saying I’m sorry until I have you by my side every morning and every night. ‘Cause if want thing has thought me, Ellie, is that I have to express my feelings. So I’ll do it, I’m in love with you and I’m sorry”

You are near tears when he says that, Joel only squeezes your hands softly, but you break the contact only to pull him towards you in a big hug.

“The moment I saw you came with Ellie through the door of this cabin, I knew I didn’t want to lose my little family. I’ve been trying to be strong but the truth is that I need you, Joel” his cheek touches yours and you feel the warmth of his skin. Any trace of uncertainty is gone. Only he could have taken and brought back your happiness.

“I need you too, darlin’”

He kisses you, so soft, so simple. You barely pay attention to the rain that suddenly started pouring. Joel slowly stands up and you lean back on the bed. His kisses were addicting even when you just met them seconds ago. But you take the lead by moving your lips down south, marking traces on his chin, towards his jaw. It is there when Joel lets out the first moan. But he suddenly stops

“Wait, y/n, I don’t want to hurt you. Your ribs aren’t completely healed. And-“

“Joel… If I kept going, it’s because I can. And because I want to…” you say before capturing his lips in another kiss.

“Is Ellie asleep?” You add. Joel chuckles.

“You know she snores loudly. Listen…” Both of you remain quiet and the distant snores of the girl can be heard, which makes you giggle.

First, he undresses you and makes sure to heavenly explore your most intimate areas with his tongue. Then he takes off his clothes and worships your body in the most perfect way he could possibly do it.

“I love you, Joel” it spills out of your lips with honesty. Between thrusts and gasps for air, he makes time to answer you.

“I love you too.”

For the rest of the night, his hands are in your body. And until the morning, remain there…

….

The rays of the sun wake you up by directly targeting your eyes. But when you open them, they’re gone. Is a cloudy morning, and there’s a big pair of warm hands securely around your stomach.

The need to stretch is suddenly gone when you remember what happened last night. How good Joel made it clear you were the woman he wanted, his caresses, kisses, and everything. You can’t help but smile and snuggle closer to him.

“Mornin’…” Joel says with a raspy voice, without you noticing he had woken up.

“Hey…” you reply deciding to face him.

It feels odd to see an unworried Joel after months of being witness to his sleep deprivation, his inability to eat because he preferred to make sure you and Ellie did first, etc.

“Is there anything on my face? Or what’s with the starin’, sweetheart?” Your face goes hot, but there is no point in hiding your thoughts.

“I just… I never thought we would end up in this position. We were practically strangers once…”

“You said it, y/n. Once…” he replies, pulling you closer.

“I guess I’m just not used to this side of you…” Joel smirks, then chuckles. To be fair, he isn’t used to seeing you in such an intimate way. He knows there are many things left to learn from each other, but he knows nothing will change the way he feels.

“Look, after saying out loud how I feel about you… there’s nothin’ else to run away from, baby. I’m an old man who’s tired but feels like a teenager when it comes to you” Your heart melts from tenderness. You can’t help but kiss his chin.

“I’ll make sure to take care of you. There’s literally a whole life waiting for you, Joel. You’re not that old, dear” he smiles, nodding before resting one arm behind his head and the other snaking around you.

“Are we gonna tell Ellie?” You add, stretching on the bed.

“Let’s be real, she already knew before us.” Both of you laugh, smiling at each other like two idiots. The girl had constantly shared silly comments about you two being too close while dinner in the middle of nowhere, or how needy Joel looked about asking you to share a sleeping bag with him.

“She seemed excited about us talking…” Joel nods, sitting on the bed, stretching and making his bones crack a little.

“Glad we did more than talk” you gently push the man, making him chuckle a little.

“We should start heading towards Jackson by now…” you say looking that the sun was coming out again.

“Right. But… let’s say it one more time, please. So it’s… officially real” There was the insecure man you knew.

A little smile perks in your mouth as you crawl back towards him.

“We’re together now, wherever the tides take us…” he kisses you abruptly.

It was real. Coming back to Jackson meant closing a chapter, and starting a new one. And both of you knew it was going to be happier. And possibly… forever.

_______________________________________

Thank u to all the humans that waited almost A YEAR for this second part :)

Taglist:

@o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

@orcasoul

@liciafonseca

@wanniiieeee

@joelmillersblog

#pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel x reader #the last of us x reader

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bharv · 14 days ago

Text

Happy Gortoween everybody. Thanks @gortash-week for all the food!

Sweet Thing

Modern AU verse Durgetash. Prompts: Costume party, sweet delights, the devil you know. CW implied feederism and coercion.

(This is basically fluff for me.)

“Come on. We’re going out.”

He’s drunk, because of course he is, though he’s not sweating enough yet to have moved onto anything harder. Manva moves to shut the door, but he catches it and moves past her before she has a chance.

“I’m not going anywhere. It’s late.”

“It’s bloody nine-thirty! What is it with your generation. You’re tucking yourself in with your teddies by nightfall.”

“I have a class at six tomorrow.”

“Christ. I didn’t think students got up for anything before ten.”

“A Pilates class, not a class-class.”

She’s already exhausted by his presence. Decked out head-to-toe in black, his hair pushed back and the only hint of colour an ugly pair of red-tipped boots that must have been some designer’s idea of a joke, he strides through the grey of the studio apartment like a fly across a fruit bowl.

“Come on,” he says again as he opens up the fridge and takes out one of her sparkling waters. “Get something black and slinky on and let’s pop out. I’ll have you back by midnight, promise.”

He walks back to her, slipping a hand over her waist, his thumb pushing past the fabric of her vest. There is a smile playing at the edge of his lips, and she knows why. He has already won, and they both know it.

He calls a cab and takes them into old soho, the backstreets of the city that heroically resist the lure of gentrification. They stop down an alley with one illuminated door with missing letters, and she follows him down a narrow staircase that leads to a tatty looking retro diner. There is a DJ feebly playing generic fifties music, and they are led by a lone waiter to the far corner of a tacky, tattered old red Formica booth. She had worried that she was underdressed; the only black clothes she had in her wardrobe was a two piece Lycra workout set, but as she shrugs off her coat she only thinks of how the plastic seats will stick to her arms.

“This can’t be what you’re all dressed up for,” she says as she fingers a sticky menu on the table.

“I’m going on,” he explains as he pulls out a cigarette. “Lady Jannath’s Costume Masquerade.”

She recalls seeing the photos when she was younger in Orin’s copies of Tatler. Wisteria Jannath and her daughters in couture garments that would have been just as welcome at the met ball.

“And where is your costume then?”

“Ah yes,” he replies, and pulls out a cheap pair of plastic horns from his inside pocket that he places on his head with a flourish.

She hates that it makes her laugh. “Hardly up to the dress code, is it?”

“Dress code is for people coming through the front to be papped,” he explains, lighting his cigarette and taking a long, measured pull. “I’m there for the real party. Oh, I almost forgot…”

He pulls out a tiny witches hat from the jacket, a delicate little hair clip that he reaches across to place on her head.

She flinches. “I don’t do Halloween.”

He scowls, pulling his cigarette from his mouth and flicking ash across the table. “Why not? Lighten up a little.”

“It’s not… for me. I don’t want to.”

“Come on. Don’t be such a little-”

“You can’t smoke indoors, Mr Gortash.”

A heavy, masculine, and above all exhausted voice pulls her out of their little bubble. She feels embarrassed as she looks up at the poor waiter, who is surely only doing his job and is sick of late-night nonsense like-

“Quite so,” Enver replies with a smile, and takes another quick puff before pulling out his wallet. “Bring me an Old Fashioned, two Ring-a-ding-ding burgers, and a milkshake. Chocolate, dear? Strawberry?”

He doesn’t even look at her as he pulls out a wedge of cash and folds it for the waiter. It must be at least three hundred.

“I don’t want anything,” she tells him.

He smiles at the waiter and puts the money in his hand before leaning back.

“Chocolate, I think. With all the toppings. Bring it over with the whiskey bottle and then leave us be, there’s a good chap.”

The food arrives and it is fine, nothing remarkable, with generous portions of fries and beef-bacon instead of pork. She looks around the room as Enver talks about his day, something about international markets that is impossible to follow as he tops up his glass, and notices that the room is full of suited men with women. Some look younger, others perhaps hired. All of them tucked away, just like she is, in dimly-lit booths.

“Why did we come here?” she asks him as she dips one of her fries in the melting ice cream. “We could have stayed at mine.”

“Maybe I wanted to treat you.”

“But not enough to take me to the party.”

“Would you have wanted to go?”

She considers it, just for a moment. The crowded space, the photographs. The feeling of hanging on his arm. “…No.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“But why here?”

“It’s an old favourite. Now come on. You’ve barely touched your food.”

She looks down at the half-eaten burger and seemingly endless chips. She already knows how heavy her body will feel tomorrow on the reformer, how it will sit on her chest.

“I’m done.”

“Truly?” He moves closer to her, and runs his hand over her stomach openly as he leans into her neck. The feeling of shame lurches in her as she tries to pull away, but there is nowhere to go as she traps his hand in hers. “You don’t feel full at all,” he murmurs against her neck. “And there’s not much to hide behind, is there?”

“Enver-“

“Fine. If you’re sure.”

The hand on her stomach slips from her grasp, chasing up her skin as he leans in to kiss her. The kiss is hard, forceful, and she almost chokes on it as she pulls away.

“I want to go home,” she tells him, her hand reaching to try to find her coat as he laughs at her.

“Then go! Do you want to go back to the home that I pay for, the one I furnished and supply for you with only the ask of your company in return, or would you prefer to go back to your real home?”

He leans in and kisses her again, and she can feel her head swirl as if he has drugged her. She knows he has not, would not.

It wouldn’t be so fun for him if he had.

He pulls away, holding her by the back of her neck. “A girl your age should be out at a party, getting felt up in the corner by some quivering boy for a quick fumble in the dark,” he tells her. “Chasing little memories, gathering little discretions for the diary. But you’re not there. And you’re not at home. You’re here, with me, and you’re here because you like it. You like what I am.”

She breathes in the scent of him, takes in the feeling of his thumb moving down her collarbone and his other hand reaching down her thigh as everything dissolves but him. Smoke and ash, the silly plastic devil horns an unnecessary addition.

Perhaps it is better to stick with the devil you knew, after all.

#gortoween #enver gortash #durgetash #cw feederism #to be safe #I wrote this in an hour on my phone so. apologies #but I joined in!#this was NOT what I was planning to write this is NOT what I have to finish today

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demonic-charcuterie · 1 year ago

Note

https://youtu.be/8GBJ_C2ERDo?si=tOqFE2ENBGvWoEYN

Love your helluva boss mob boss!reader sorry for all the rude and demanding asks your getting but happy late Halloween<33

Would it be okay for me to request mob boss!reader and fizz and Ozzie Halloween fluff?? If not it's okay! And take your time!

Thank you so much! I had so much fun writing that! If it’s fluff you want it’s fluff you will receive! Ps. I love love love getting requests so pleaseeeee ask for some more.

You,Fizz, and Ozzie didn’t celebrate Halloween a lot before they met you. Mostly because they were to busy. Ozzie was building new Halloween special “adult projects” and Fizz was throwing special events. And you…you were a mob boss and don’t think you’d have time for that when you were bashing heads in.

All those things were great but you never had time to decorate or hand out candy or watch scary movies at midnight because you dog piled on each other. Fizzy wrapped his tail around you and you all just passed out.

But this you changed that, you went all out on Halloween and you didn’t cater to the masses. You were so clueless, you heard “scary” and ran with. You didn’t hang up cute little pumpkins or some shit like that, oh hell no. Your pumpkins had their seedy guts spread out on the lawn like a orange bloody pumpkin massacre. You bought those electric spider that ran around when they were exposed to light.

Ozzie and Fizz where out while you baking red velvet cookies when a bullet shot right past your ear causing a moment of deafness. This was like the 9th time someone tried to kill you this month. You always tried your hardest to hide that you were sneaking into the lust ring to visit them but ever since Ozzie revealed that he loved Fizz you tried less to hide it and now things like this happen a lot more often.

When Fizz and Ozzie got home you had just finished shoving his dead body out of the window. “O-oh sorry babe it didn’t mean to make a mess-” You said gesturing to the bloody walls and kitchen counter tops with a tray of cookies on the table.

“Y/n…this is amazing!” Fizz said pulling you into a long sweet kiss. “W-what the bloo-“ you began but Ozzie cut you off. “This blood looks so real, oh and you baked cookies!” Ozzie said picking you up. You smiled shyly as he lifted you.

“Well thanks, I worked hard on this!” You said as he put you down. “I have a surprise for you two.” You said running up down the hallway and coming back with a box. “Open this.”

Fizz ripping open the box and pulled out a skeleton onesie. You reached into the box and pulled out yours. “I got a matching pjs! I couldn’t get one made in your true from Ozzie but could you please shape shift?” You asked while handing him his large onesie. He nodded and struck down.

“What are these?” Ozzie said pulled out children’s cutting knifes and a giant sheet of plastic. “We’re pumpkin carving!” You exclaimed. “And I didn’t wanna get the floor dirty. I figured we could watch some horror movies while we have a carving contest.” You smile shyly at the both of them. “I know..it was stupid you don’t have to-“

You were cut off at Ozzie who pulled you into a deep kiss. “We love it!” Fizz said smiling while wrapping his arm around you.

(A few hours later.)

You and Fizz you laying on Ozzie’s chest with some random black in right movie rolling in the background. A random shriek woke you up and the boys are and you all looked at each other before bursting out laughing and falling back into the pillow. “This was a great Halloween babe” Ozzie said.

“Yeah it really was.” Fizz said before kissing your forehead.

I really hope you liked this one, I realized the mob boss could’ve been more scary i guess but I really like this one.

#fizzarolli x asmodeus #asmodeus x fizzarolli #fizzaroli helluva boss #helluva boss asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #fizzarolli #fizzmodeus #helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #halloween fluff #halloween

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whumpshaped · 1 year ago

Text

happy all saints day

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, past trauma, buried alive mention, abandonment, emotional whump

"Um... where are we going, exactly?" Beck asked timidly, looking around the dark streets like the biggest threat in the area wasn't walking right next to him. "I don't mean to be rude, I just... I'm just wondering..."

"The cemetery."

His breath caught in his throat as he tried to think of any reason why Helle would bring him there in the middle of the night. All he could come up with were terrifying crimes and death. If he was lucky, that is — what if Helle wanted to bury him alive?

"N-no, Helle, p-please–" He stopped walking and waited until the vampire turned around, then began begging in earnest. "I don't know if I've done something wrong, or, or if I've just been boring lately– I'm sorry, okay? Whatever it was, I'm sorry, please, I'll make it up to you somehow, I'll, I'll do anything–"

They frowned. "What?"

"Y-you just want to scare me, right? You don't actually want to kill me! Right...? You don't need to, um, m-make me dig my own grave, or, or pretend you're about to bury me alive– You can just tell me where I fucked up! I'll remedy it! I'm scared enough as it is–"

"What exactly do you think you did wrong?" they cut in, and Beck almost whimpered. He hated this game. He could never guess the correct answer.

"I... I d-don't... I don't know, I thought– I thought I was... I was being good..." He resisted the urge to take a step back, knowing it would've just been yet another offence stacked on top of whatever he'd already committed. "I'm sorry, I don't know, but I can learn, I can do better..."

"Come on, now. You are shaking like a leaf, there must be a reason you are so scared."

Oh god. So this was about making him confess to something. But what? What did he do? What was so egregious that Helle was willing to go so far? "I don't know," he repeated quietly. "But I'll admit whatever you want me to! Just ask! I won't lie, I'd never lie to you, I'll tell you whatever you want to know! And whatever it is, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry."

"Those apologies ring awfully hollow when you have not a single clue why you are apologising, hm?" They walked back to him, tucking a strand of loose hair behind his ear. "That is quite alright, dear. You are panicking for no reason."

"Huh...?" What was that even supposed mean? There was no way Helle would let some transgression go unpunished. Not one that was horrible enough to be the cause for taking him on a midnight walk to the cemetery.

"I did not bring you here to torment you, Beck. Do you know what day it is?"

What the fuck were these questions? "W-wednesday?"

Helle grinned. "Yes, quite. But I was thinking more about the date. And please, do not say Halloween."

"All Saints' Day...?" he asked, a little uncertain. And then he finally understood. Of course. All Saints' Day, immediately followed by the Day of the Dead... of course they would go to the cemetery. The tension slowly left his body, and he let out a small sound of relief and understanding. "O-oh... I... sorry. I didn't... think about that."

"Thinking is not your strong suit, is it?" They turned around and started walking again, and Beck hurried to catch up.

"Do you have someone buried here?" he tried, hoping to keep them talking. Even though he now knew he wasn't about to be murdered, cemeteries creeped him out even in broad daylight.

"We could say that."

Beck was confused only for a moment before he realised what that meant. He was with a vampire, after all. "Are we... visiting your grave?"

Helle huffed out a laugh. "Maybe he can think."

They walked along the concrete road for a while, passing trees, statues of Jesus, and the final resting places of several strangers Beck had never heard the names of. There were candles on almost every grave, illuminating the text and art on the tombstones. Some of the smaller ones had already burned down, or they'd been snuffed out by the autumn wind, but a big chunk of them were still going strong, giving the whole cemetery a dim glow.

Beck didn't remember ever having come to the cemetery on All Saints' Day. He didn't have anyone buried, really — the ashes of his grandparents were in her mother's living room, safe from being forgotten and sparing all of them the hassle of removing weeds from the base of mossy stone slabs. Or trudging through the mud after some nice, November rain.

"Do you come every year?"

Helle glanced at him. "Awfully interested, hm?"

"Well, I..."

"We can walk in silence, you know."

"I, I'd prefer if we didn't," he muttered.

"Do not tell me you are scared of a couple crosses and some statues. I am the vampire, I should be the one shaking in my boots at the sight of such holy imagery."

"I just don't like it... And, and especially at night..."

"Well, you are in luck. I happen to be scarier than whatever goth teenagers are conducting a séance here. Not by much, I suppose, but my point stands."

"It's not funny!"

"Oh, come on. It is hilarious. I did not take you for a believer in the paranormal. A coward, yes, but this? Relax." They took a right, walking onto a section Beck couldn't even pick out the number of in the dark. He almost tripped over several decorations and wreaths while trying to keep up with Helle, and he was borderline out of breath by the time they finally stopped.

He straightened his back and let out a sigh, trying to find which of the graves could belong to Helle. They all seemed... kind of neglected. They were simple mounds of dirt with wooden crosses stuck into them, but some of them didn't even have names carved into them. "Um..."

"That one." They pointed to one of the nameless crosses. Beck could pick out the faded outline of some words, but not the meaning. "It used to be less crowded around here. When I crawled out of the coffin, there were only a couple more graves in this area."

He shivered. He couldn't imagine waking up six feet underground. "I'm sorry that... that you went through that. That's messed up." Helle hummed, taking out a little tealight and a box of matches. "When, uh... when was that? This cemetery has been here for... a while."

"1732. I think, anyway." They placed the candle on top of the dirt, then began fumbling with the matches. "I mean, I looked up the year of... Well, it holds little significance, really. It is not as though I am still down there. No, I was quite an ill-behaved corpse, ruining my own coffin and then leaving it behind."

Beck could hear the bitterness behind the casual tone. There was no making light of anyone's death, much less their own — the weight of it seemed to drag their words down to a place they rarely ever visited. Somewhere genuine. Vulnerable.

"What did the cross say?" he asked gently.

Helle struck a match, once, twice, three times before it finally lit up, and the newborn flame soared for just a split second before settling into a more managable form, docile and ready to be of use. "Oh, something silly. 'Our beloved child', maybe. Nothing that made remembering any easier. Nothing that made finding it any easier later on." They crouched and lit the tealight, then stuck the match into the soil. "I should cross it out one of these days. It is not very... accurate anymore."

They stood up and stepped back, watching as the flame danced in the gentle breeze. They took a deep breath, then groaned.

"I have no clue why I keep coming here. The wind will blow out the candle, too. So stupid."

Beck couldn't explain the sadness that came over him at the sound of that. It was a horrible fate, wasn't it? To be forgotten. To be the only one to visit your own grave.

He glanced around, reaching into his coat pocket for a tissue. He didn't allow time for his rational mind to talk him out of his dumb mission; he briskly walked over to the road and plucked a couple daisies, careful not to get his hand dirty. Without looking at Helle, he brought them back over to the grave and set them down next to the tealight, then folded up the tissue and put it back in his pocket.

He tried not to think about how stupid this all must've looked. Helle was about to burst out laughing any minute now, mocking him for placing little roadside flowers on–

"Thank you." Beck hesitantly lifted his gaze from the ground, surprised to find no trace of cynicism or mockery in Helle's expression. "Truly. I appreciate it."

"Oh," he breathed. "I..."

"Even though you unironically used a tissue to pick some flowers."

There it was.

"I just didn't want to–"

"I know, dear," they interrupted, much warmer than before. They stepped a little closer to him, and he involuntarily flinched when they raised their hand — only to put an arm around his shoulders and pull him towards themself, kissing him on the cheek. Beck hoped the vampire's vision wasn't good enough to see him blush. "But what was I supposed to do? Have a moment of sincere love and bonding? In front of my own grave? I had to make a joke."

"Right," he mumbled. "That's fair. I think."

Helle laughed a little, then turned him back towards the road by the shoulders. "Alright, enough sulking for one night. Let us return to your lovely home and watch a movie or something."

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @auroragehenna

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire whumper #past trauma #buried alive mention #abandonment #emotional whump

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chaerybae · 10 months ago

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take a picture now – shin yuna of itzy 𓆩❤𓆪

synopsis: after you requested a room change, you were put in the last available dorm. just one problem... you can't figure out your new roommate. does she want to be close to you? or does she want to vaporize you on the spot?

cast: yuna, ryujin of itzy, haewon of nmixx, lily of nmixx

genre: roommates, enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, college au

wc: 2.9k || warnings: cursing, eating/food, yuna is just a little mean

a/n: this is my first fic here! feedback is welcome :D also might make a part 2 more about the photos later. lmk if you’d read that!

“Are you sure this is the right room?”

“I’m sure, Lily. Do you think Seungmin would mark the wrong dorm?”

“Ye-”

“Oh, just come on!”

You and Lily were bringing your belongings into a new dorm, part of your escape from Ryujin, your former roommate who just had to bring her pet spiders to college with her. Now don’t be mistaken, you love Ryujin, after all, she persuaded Yuna to let you move in with her. Although, it’s not like Yuna had much of a choice.

Yuna had been given a two-person dorm, even though she wasn’t assigned a roommate. Seungmin, the ra, had told Yuna someone might move into her dorm last minute, but she was willing to take the dorm for the luxurious possibility of solo living. After hearing about your predicament from both Ryujin and Seungmin, she had two choices: let you become her roommate or get rid of Ryujin’s tarantulas. And it’s not like the latter would happen anytime soon.

At midnight, your best friends had finally gone back to their own dorms. Only five minutes later, Yuna herself arrived, probably coming from hanging out with her own friends, it was a Friday after all. She looked perfect, like she had just come back from the salon. Although if you looked closer, you would have seen the exhaustion in her eyes.

“Hi, Yuna! I’m your new roommate. Ryujin probably told you about me alre-”

She had walked straight to her room and closed the door before you could even finish speaking.

~𓆩❤𓆪

If you’ve learned anything about Yuna in the past month and a half it’s that she’s an art major, and you don’t need to ask her to know (even though, in an effort to have a real conversation with her, you did ask about her major). With the Halloween season fast approaching, Yuna had already decked out your dorm in the latest Halloween fashions, while looking the happiest that you had ever seen her.

She even spoke to you without a scowl on her face as she started to carve mini pumpkins on the kitchen counter. You took this as a sign.

“Could I… carve one?”

“A pumpkin?”

“Yea. If you don’t mind.”

“No no! Here take this one.”

Maybe she just really liked Halloween. Yuna had rarely spoken to you like this before, with a huge smile on her face. It was probably because her pumpkin was turning out really cute, but you pretended that your roommate was smiling because you had finally made her happy enough to be around you for more than five minutes.

You and Yuna began to talk more, run errands together, and you even started to eat breakfast together before morning classes. If anybody saw you two skipping to the convenience store after late study nights, they wouldn’t be able to tell that your friendship was nonexistent a couple weeks prior. But they would be able to see the way you clung to her– with your eyes, with your hands that were trying to hold onto her arm. They would see the way she avoided your gaze, and the way you eventually just put your hands in your pockets, choosing to simply walk by her side.

~𓆩❤𓆪

Finally, the long awaited day you two had been preparing for arrived, but your roommate was nowhere to be found. Yuna had left early Halloween morning and you hadn’t seen her all day. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit disappointed. Looking at the paper bats hung in the living room made you wish that you could turn back time and carve pumpkins with her again. You had spent so long moping around your living room that Haewon and Lily almost kicked down your door before dragging you to their dorm to have a movie marathon.

When Yuna finally came back from Yeji’s place, she was surprised to find the dorm empty. She crashed onto her bed immediately, too tired to question why she correlated the emptiness of the dorm to your absence, instead of the living room's pitch-darkness.

The next morning, Yuna exited her room to find your room closed. She guessed that you had come back from your friends’ dorm after she had fallen asleep. Yuna knew her flurry of morning preparation might wake you up. Did she feel a little sorry? Maybe. But she had begun to grow used to walking to class with you, and how could she do that if you were sleeping? After ten minutes of Yuna sitting in the kitchen alone, you finally walked into the kitchen. The way Yuna’s face lit up when you appeared was a complete contrast to the cold-shoulder Yuna of early September. Surprised flashed across your face when you saw her smiling at you, only to be quickly replaced with a pink flush and a shy smile of your own.

“Do you want to get breakfast with me?”

“As in … going somewhere?”

“Well, just the vending machine.”

“Oh, well… lead the way!”

Yuna ended up following you as you skipped down the hall with your tote bag to the vending machine. To Yuna, it had begun to feel like she was actually living with you, instead of just living in the room next to yours. But to you, your friendship still felt… incomplete. As Yuna put your soon-to-be shared three packs of poptarts in her bag and pulled you into the elevator, you wondered if you were beginning to over-analyze things.

You decided that you could forget the way that you wanted to hold her hand as Yuna pulled you by the wrist, like she always did when she decided you were walking too slowly. Maybe you walked slowly on purpose, but she didn’t need to know that. It's not like you wanted to spend more time with her or anything. Now outside her department’s building, the absence of Yuna’s hand on your wrist snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Can you drive me to the museum later? Ryujin’s busy, and well…”

“You failed your driver’s test… again?”

“… I’ll buy you dinner after.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll see you after your last lecture then.”

She let out a little scream of excitement. “Thanks a million, babe,” Yuna turned to walk into the building, “what would I do without you?”

Yuna walked slowly through the building’s door, so she could turn back around at the last second to watch you walk into the library on the other side of the street. She had meant what she said, fuck the solo living shit she told herself over the summer, if you hadn’t become her roommate Yuna would have been dreadfully lonely. And, of course, she wouldn’t have gotten to know you outside of being Ryujin’s friend.

Now, she woke up earlier so you had more time to walk together. Now, she stayed home more often, so you could go out together on the weekends. At one point, Yuna had even wished she shared your major so you could have classes together.

Oh, but what could a girl do? It seemed that this girl could only survive the day's classes and wait for you to pick her up for your museum trip.

While Yuna suffered through art history lectures, you suffered, not from the increasingly boring textbook sitting in front of you, but from your own internal dilemma. The two of you were alike in thoughts and feelings.

You had long abandoned your studying in favor of overthinking. Friends always walked to school together right? Maybe some did. Roommates drove each other around town right? That’s normal friend behavior. Roommates overthink all their past interactions with their roommate before it’s even 9am right? Probably not… Friends who call each other “babe” think about it hours after the fact right? No… oh. oh.

~𓆩❤𓆪

Neither of you mentioned their thoughts to the other. And regardless of your inner turmoil, you happily drove Yuna to the museum, the latest hits blasting on the way. The museum was within walking distance. You didn’t even know why Yuna needed someone to drive her. But you’re willing to ignore that, after all you’re getting some time with Yuna outside of your now outdated Halloween dorm.

Once in the galleries, you were really questioning why Yuna asked you to come along. The only thing worth looking at, in your completely unbiased opinion, was Yuna. These strange paintings were really not your cup of tea. Your feet hurt from walking through the same few exhibits in the back of the museum. Your head hurt from all the talking children, middle-aged people muttering nonsense, and all of your own thoughts. Worst of all, Yuna didn’t even pay attention to you, only speaking to ask for your opinion on the pictures she was diligently taking. You guessed she had an assignment to do, being an art major or whatever, but–

“I can see you out of the corner of my eye, you know. Why aren’t you appreciating the art?”

“What do you mean?” you knew you had been caught staring.

“You’ve only been looking at me.”

“You're prettier than these paintings…” you whispered to yourself.

Yuna faced away from you, unsuccessfully trying to contain her blush. “You can look at me later…” Her blush must’ve been contagious, since you became quite rosy as well.

Needless to say, you two left the museum ten minutes later. You walked next to Yuna and got in your car, all while avoiding eye contact. “Do you want to get dinner now?” Yuna said, breaking the silence. You had completely forgotten about the promise of dinner, since that’s obviously not why you agreed to drive Yuna in the first place. “Yeah, where do you want to eat?”

~𓆩❤𓆪

By the time dinner was over and you and Yuna were back in the car, the awkward air had left, and been replaced by a different feeling. Dinner had consisted of both of you making small talk, that occasionally delved into deeper topics like your classmates or the strange freshmen in the dorm below yours. Not awkward, but not quite comfortable. You could feel that Yuna had something to say, and questions to ask, but neither of you said anything of importance on the trip back to your dorm.

Once the door was locked, you headed straight for the kitchen, sitting down on top of the counter. Maybe it was stress eating, but you told yourself that you just needed a little treat for being normal around your roommate today. You devoured a pack of oreos as Yuna opened her computer on the other side of the kitchen island.

“What were the pictures for?” you said, anxious to keep the somewhat meaningless conversation alive in the weird atmosphere.

“It's an assignment for Professor Hwang,” she replied, like she was asking a question, “we're doing a special unit on contemporary paintings soon, so– um– we need pictures of our favorites for the next unit.”

Flustered Yuna was cute. But Yuna getting flustered over being asked about paintings? Still cute, but strange.

“I'm going to take a shower. It's already 11, and I have an 8am tomorrow,” Yuna hastily said. She left so quickly that she forgot about her laptop, leaving it open on the counter in front of you. And upon the closing of the bathroom door, you got up to take a look.

I'm not being nosy at all! I'm just looking to see… oh.

The picture left on the screen was a beautifully photographed painting, but a different folder was also opened. And the majority of the other pictures in the folder weren't paintings. How had you never noticed? In that folder, there were more pictures of you than you could count. You lean over the kitchen counter, curled up on the couch, posing next to one of your pumpkins, in the hallway, mid-bite into a poptart. You walking to the campus library… driving your car… and you, in the museum, staring at the floor with a subtle smile on your face. You closed the computer, quickly turning around to resume stress eating your oreos. Those last couple of pictures were taken today? How had you not noticed, when you were staring at her the whole time?

Do friends take pictures of each other while they're driving? While they're absentmindedly staring at the museum floors? No. But you already knew that. All you had to do was find out if Yuna knew that too, if only you could find the courage to take that risk.

~𓆩❤𓆪

Yuna thought she understood you. So why were you acting so unlike yourself? Did you lose your taste for vending machine poptarts? Or, even worse, were you bored of her company?

No! Yuna wouldn't allow herself to think like that. You had begun to leave earlier for school, leaving her to walk to class by herself. Yuna treated the occasional dinner with you like a blessing from heaven, but, even though you two shared a dorm, she was still seeing less and less of you. But she always knew that one day you might get bored, that you'd drift away before Yuna could tell you–

“You know, I don't think they would ever want to stop being friends with you, Yuna.” Her thoughts faded as Ryujin, a totally certified relationship expert and best friend, talked away. Yuna had gone to Ryujin’s to get her dilemma out of her head and into words, so the two were having a sleepover. The beloved spiders that had triggered this whole affair were in a terrarium behind the two.

“You really think so?”

“I know so. Why don’t you just ask them why they've been spending less time with you! Or better yet, tell them about your absolutely enormous crus–”

“I do not! I only see them as a friend!!” Liar.

“Being louder doesn't make you right. Go to sleep and just talk to them tomorrow.”

Yuna fell asleep, knowing her last words of the day were a complete lie. But she would only admit Ryujin was right after she went home to you and tried to do something about it.

~𓆩❤𓆪

You were asleep, after all it was Saturday, and the fact that it was past 2pm was irrelevant. As it had been for the past several weeks, Yuna was not in the dorm. She was probably at Ryujin’s again; she never seemed to be home anymore.

But as you poured yourself a cup of orange juice in the kitchen, Yuna walked in.

“I have something to tell you.”

“You're not at Ryujin’s?”

“Well, I was yesterday, but um- I wanted to talk to you before you left…”

“We don't have school on Saturdays, Yuna.”

“Oh… right.”

Well, this was getting awkward. You put away the orange juice, all while trying to maintain eye contact with Yuna. The girl across from you desperately looked anywhere that wasn't you, finally setting her eyes on a lone pack of oreos.

Yuna moved to sit on the counter, eating oreos as she waited for something to happen, for you to say something so she wouldn't have to.

“Weren't you the one who wanted to tell me something?”

Oh right. Great job, Yuna.

“Yeah, well um- I just wanted to ask you why you've been… avoiding me. Did I do something or… do you not want to be friends anymore?”

You moved closer to her with every word, trying to come up with a response, until you were close enough to grab an oreo yourself. Yuna’s words got slower and quieter the more she said. You were motionless, stuck at what couldn't have been more than an inch away from her face.

But it's not like you just wanted to see her up close. Liar. It's not like you wanted to be this close to her all the time. Another lie. Or like you wanted to feel her lips on your forehead. Your cheeks. Your-

Lips. Yuna grabbed the front of your shirt and kissed you.

It was quick, but it was enough to make you blush profusely. But before you could even say anything, Yuna had ran out of the kitchen, with bright red ears, to sit on the sofa.

“Yuna…,” you said quietly, after walking over to Yuna and sitting on the floor so you could see her face. “Come on, babe. You can’t just run away after you do something like that.”

Her ears turned redder, if that was even possible, and she looked at you through her fingers, not moving from her place on the couch. You got up from the floor and took a seat next to her, wrapping your left arm around her shoulders to get her to face you.

“I have something to tell you too.”

“Oh… what is it?”

You smiled softly at her, cheeks still flushed from Yuna’s kiss, her lipstick could be seen on your lips. It only made her cover her face to hide her blushing cheeks more. You were definitely riding the high from finally kissing her, but this confidence boost wasn’t going to last forever. You took a deep breath and forced the words out of your throat.

“Does this mean you’ll let our next dinner date be an actual date?”

“What?”

Another deep breath. “Let me take you out on a date, Yuna.”

At this, Yuna finally took her hands off her face, putting them on yours instead, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Safe to say that’s a yes,” you said through giggles.

“That’s a yes.”

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porcelainmortal · 1 month ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags, @onthewaytosomewhere @wordsofhoneydew @cha-melodius @stellarmeadow and @firenati0n!

The words have not been coming lately, but the opening of a new Halloween fic popped into my head today while I was working. This is about half of what I've got and I don't know if this will be anything, but alas.

“Hey!” Henry jumps when Alex plops over the back of the couch, leaning on his elbows into Henry's space, the way he often does when some insane idea pops into his head and he just has to tell Henry right away. And Henry loves his roommate, really he does, but he could do without the heart-attack inducing way he sometimes enters a room. Especially since Henry has been hopelessly in love with the man since the day they met and can’t bloody do anything about it. That makes everything more difficult. “Yes, Alex,” Henry sighs, pretending to be more put-upon than he is. If he’s honest, it’s not so much the way that Alex loves to make Henry jump, but that Henry can’t return the favour the way he'd prefer. “So I was thinking–” “A dangerous pastime for you.” “Rude. But I was thinking, what if we did a couple’s costume for Halloween this year?” “But we’re not a couple,” Henry says slowly, as if he needs to remind himself as well as Alex.

It's technically past midnight here so it feels evil to tag people. Consider this an open tag, if you want it!! Please tag me back if you take it. Happy very-nearly-Thursday, folks.

#wip wednesday #halloween fic #i love halloween but my muse is on vacation #is this anything?#idk

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the-family-business-83 · 1 month ago

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Be My Pumpkin?

Fandom: Supernatural

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Dean x Female!reader, no body type or ethnicity mentioned

Word count: 1,674

Summary: Dean doesn't always stop to have a normal moment very often, if at all. Ever since you came along, a lot of things have changed. And this year, you're the reason he remembers to have some fun on Halloween.

Warnings: None honestly. Just some possible spoilers if you haven't seen much of the show but I tried to keep it vague so it's not spoilery.

Dividers created by @firefly-graphics; cover image taken off of Pintrest

A/N: I wrote this at like 3am because I couldn't sleep and I wanted to write some fluffy Dean. I was feeling the Halloween vibes but I also kinda wanted to touch on season 8 post-Lisa feelings. I don't care if those makes sense because honestly I just wrote it to write something. Any and all mistakes are my own because I wrote those without a Beta or anyone to preview it before I posted it. I hope you guys like it because I kinda love it and I thought it was super cute. Anyway, enjoy! :3

Sometimes there were mundane things you did with Dean that brought back older memories. You didn't mean to, hell you didn't know half the time–and how could you, you weren't psychic. But you'd ask him to take the trash out with a tired sigh because it probably wasn't the first time you'd asked that, and sometimes it reminded him of Lisa. You got excited over every holiday and insisted that the bunker should be decorated even if Sam found it ridiculous, and it had him thinking back to a time when he and his brother made the best of a year. Come to think of it he couldn't remember the last time they actually sat down and celebrated a holiday that wasn't their birthdays, if you even counted those.

It was the middle of October, and you'd covered the bunker in whatever dollar store decorations you could find. Mini-skeleton garlands on the railings with little orange fairy lights, Halloween monster themed window clingers on every mirror or glass you could find, you'd even changed out the bathmats in the shower room to be those color-changing white ones that turn red with water. Sam had vetoed those though on the premise that they were a bit distasteful. Little did he know Dean had tucked them away for later pranks. But now you and Dean had gone to the grocery store for a supply run, and you were walking past the giant bin of pumpkins that they had. You didn't say anything beyond a happy little gasp and stopped to look at them. Some were small, some were huge, and some looked a little worse for the wear. They were all pumpkins in your book though and you were perfectly happy looking through them to find a good one.

Dean realized after a few moments that you weren't by his side anymore, because he turned to ask you what was next on the list. He frowned when he didn't see you, and stopped in his tracks as he did one of those half-circles around himself with the body language of where the hell did she go?; that was when you called out to him.

“Dean! Help me put this in the cart, it's heavy as shit.” You called out to him, huffing as you set the big, cartoonishly perfect for carving pumpkin back into the pile. You practically squinted at it like it had done something to offend you personally by not being easy to move.

The Winchester spun on his heels when he heard your voice, emerald hues taking a second or so to lock onto you before he relaxed a bit and made his way over to you. “Midnight already there Cinderella?” He teased, cocking a brow up.

“Ha, ha. Yeah except my prince ran away from me, imagine that.” You countered, rolling your eyes at him. You could see that tiny smirk on his lips already forming and you fought against one of your own as you raised your brows. “Would you just put it in the cart already?”

Dean chuckled a bit at her quip, he thought he was pretty hilarious now and then, and he liked to think she did too, at least sometimes. Glancing over at the pumpkin in question, his eyes raked across the others in the cardboard bin. “What do we even need one of these for?” He asked out of curiosity, one hand fiddling absently with one of them, poking and prodding at the orange gord before letting it fall back down to his side. Dean was what you might call a Halloween nerd, sure, but he didnt often partake in the activities associated with it, so the thought didn't really occur to him.

“To carve, Dean.” You began, as if it were an obvious thing. “You pick one too, and I think we should get one for Sam. He probably won't, I know, but at least the option would be there and besides, an extra pumpkin can't hurt. I mean look at em, they're pumpkins!” you rambled on excitedly and gestured to them as you spoke. Palms out and faced up, you waved them over the pumpkin bin as if presenting them like some proud mother of her star children.

After a moment or so, you noticed Dean hadn't said anything. It made you look at him, wondering why he was so quiet. Because generally, he wasn't. Not unless something was wrong, and that had you worried just a bit. “Dean?” You asked, a little quieter this time as you tried to catch his attention.

When Dean registered that you had been talking to him, he felt a little bad that he hadn't said anything. His eyes were glued to those pumpkins–the only thing she'd been talking about for several minutes now–in thought. He couldn't help it; he was trying to remember when was the last time, if ever, that he'd actually gone out and picked a pumpkin to carve for Halloween. Certainly not since he was a kid, and not after his mother had died when he was 4. Maybe there had been a couple of Halloweens with Bobby where he let them carve some at the table. But that still had been some decades by now. Then he remembered…. The year he'd spent with Lisa and Ben. Which actually hasn't been all that long ago that things had gone sour and he'd almost lost them. He remembered that Halloween before everything went bad, taking Ben out to the store and getting a few pumpkins for them all to carve together. He remembered showing Ben how to hold the knife right so it was easier, how to make it look scarier with the teeth. He remembered working outside and spotting squirrels chewing on them, and scaring the little furballs off with Ben. Lisa yelled at them for being idiots but Dean still couldn't forget the loving look in her eyes that betrayed every word she tossed at them for that. He still missed it all so much. He'd have thought he'd have gotten over it by now but he still hasn't, he still woke up some days with the urge to call Lisa and check on them before he remembered that he couldn't. He wasn't about to mope around about it when there was still work to do, but he was human, he was allowed to feel pain over something he'd lost, especially when he knew they were out there somewhere, happy and safe, he just couldn't be with them. So much crap had happened and there was still crap going on. It was all whirling in his mind until he looked over at you.

You were standing next to him, you had turned the bunker into a festive warehouse when they hadn't even had the place very long, and now you were telling him how you were going to carve pumpkins for Halloween. In the middle of the world's 80th apocalypse. He shook his head lightly and let out a light chuckle, short and dry with disbelief laced in it. “You wanna carve this…” he trailed, eyes drifting back towards her prize.

You weren't sure if you were scared or confused. Or, maybe both. You frowned at the way he looked at you because you knew that look. You knew those eyes. Even if he wouldn't come out and say it you knew something was wrong but for the life of you, you couldn't figure out what. Following his line of sight towards the pumpkin you'd picked out, your brows knitted together as you chewed at your lip in thought. “I mean, you don't have to. I just thought it might be fun. And uh…I mean I thought you and your brother could use some fun.” You reasoned aloud, quietly. Mostly because you weren't totally sure what was going on with him and if something might set him off. “It's Halloween, y'know? Horror movies….bad popcorn…carved pumpkins. But- it's, I mean. It's not a big deal, I promise.” You shrugged shaking your head but mostly at yourself because you'd rambled enough.

You made another attempt at getting the big orange lump out of the bin full of them, and peripherally you heard Dean chuckle again before suddenly the pumpkin felt a lot lighter. Because his hands had joined yours in the effort of moving it to the cart. Once it was set down, Dean turned back to the bin and pulled out another one. You frowned, confused and blinked as you watched him grab not just one but two more of those pumpkins.

“What?” He cocked a brow up slightly as you looked at him like that. He knew why you were giving him that look, but he didn't really want to talk about it and he was trying to play it off so he smirked her way. “I thought you said it's Halloween, let’s bring home some pumpkins. Maybe Sam'll finally ‘conquer his fears’ or whatever, therapists say that's good for you and all.” He joked, that smirk widening into a bit of a grin.

Your worries weren't gone but they'd been substituted for mischievous joy at the notion of giving Sam a bit of shit. Mostly she just loved to see the two in their natural rhythm, and it had–admittedly–been a bit tense lately between them. The idea of some good old fashioned fun sounded good for all of them.

But above all, you were just excited to challenge them into a carving contest. With a grin, you tiptoed to pull Dean into a gentle kiss. “Pretty sure there's no therapist protocol for people like us, that's what whiskey and John Carpenter is for.” You teased back, kissing him again when he chuckled. Tomorrow night was going to be fun, you knew that much. But so would tonight and you made sure Dean knew that in the way your lips lingered on his just a little longer before pulling away so you could finish your shopping trip with a bit of incentive.

#spn #spn fanfiction #spnfanfic #supernatural #sam and dean winchester #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #halloween #happy halloweeeeeeen #halloween fanfic #oneshot #drabbles #reader insert #dean x reader

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nullbound · 1 year ago

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For BrilliantSky (#95321) on flight rising. Ngl this is the biggest piece i've attempted AND finished.

(computer was NOT happy abt the file size and much of this work was very tedious...)

Happy Halloween! -----

Oct. 31st 2023. (fun fact about this one.. this took much longer than anticipated at the end of the day, so much so it was past midnight and i was signing my work and had just written "oct." when i glanced at the time and it was RIGHT ON MIDNIGHT LMAO so i got to put oct 31st completion date by sake of technicality.. :D)

Recipient (giftee/commissioner) and/or character owner has permission to use as pfp and post to personal page(s) with credit. My work may be shown with credit (credit is considered linking to my social(s) or pinging me. Otherwise, i am un-credited.)

Hope you enjoy!

#2023 #flight rising #gift art #fr coatl #flight rising fanart #flight rising coatl #flight rising art #happy halloween

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pain-in-the-butler · 1 year ago

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Dadbastian Week Day 3: Trick or Treat

Happy day three of Dadbastian week — and happy Halloween! To fit this theme, I wrote a drabble that takes place immediately after Kuro's Halloween bonus chapter. I hope you enjoy this silly, sweet moment as you enjoy your silly sweet candy! 😊

The afterimage of the lanterns floating away into darkness was still dappled against his eyelids as Ciel finally turned back for the manor. All Hallow’s Eve was over. The villagers that had come to revel in the festivities were heading back for their homes with their laughter clouding the chilled air above their heads. Sebastian cut the sound off with the closing of the garden door, and the manor was drenched in silence once more. Lord and butler’s footfalls heading for the stairwell were the only sounds remaining, two sets of clacking heels that, for a step or two at a time, might fall into the same rhythm before separating again.

It was very late for a boy who most often found himself beginning to yawn at around half past nine and with his head on his desk if he wasn’t in bed before eleven. Ideally, the process of getting ready for sleep began before either of these events had come to pass. And now it was after midnight.

“I’m tiiired,” Ciel whined on the first step.

Sebastian’s response was mild. “I imagine so. It is very late for you.”

“My legs feel heavy,” was the fifth step’s gripe.

“We shall arrive at the bedroom before you know it,” was the reassurance.

“This is my first time wearing these shoes, they aren’t broken in,” at the tenth step.

“Then you are persevering very well,” from behind.

At the landing. “I don’t care about persevering! I said I’m bloody sick of walking around!!”

A light chuckle from behind. “Young master, do you mean for me to carry you the rest of the way?”

“...” If he had to ask, then never.

Even though it seemed to take far, far too long, they did at last arrive at the master bedroom. Ciel slumped onto the comforter at once, directly onto his face, crosswise over the mattress. He wished his pajamas could magically appear on his body without any more fuss. Why do Halloween celebrations always have to last until midnight just because it’s meant to be scary or something… I should have left it hours ago!

Sebastian chuckled again; Ciel could sense him standing overhead. “I see we aren’t feeling very cooperative right now. Isn’t that fitting.”

Ciel rolled just his chin to the side in order to speak unmuffled. “What do you mean ‘fitting’?”

“Considering how you’re dressed, of course.” From his periphery, Ciel saw Sebastian offering him a hand. “Up, young master, and let’s get you out of your costume before you fall asleep wearing it.”

There was no help for it… Ciel shrugged onto his hip and allowed Sebastian to tug him up into a sitting position. “I still don’t really understand Nina’s vision with this one,” Ciel grumbled, holding out his arms and looking down at his strange ensemble. “Some of the villagers asked me what I was meant to be dressed as, and I didn’t really have an answer. I just told them I was a monster.”

Smiling, Sebastian put a hand to his chin. “Hmm. Well, what if I told you Nina wasn’t the one to design your costume but rather myself?”

“... I would say that explains a lot,” Ciel huffed. With one hand, he hefted over his lap the black silk spade tail stuffed to fullness with sawdust. “This is certainly devil-like. Very funny. I don’t understand why you had to make it so long that it dragged on the ground, though. Or are you not so gifted with measurements after all?”

Sebastian chuckled to himself as he untied the sash at the boy’s hip that connected the false appendage to him. “Perhaps the trouble isn’t the length of the tail, but rather the fact that its owner hasn’t yet grown into it.”

“Just what is that supposed to mean? I never plan to wear this again.” Ciel was too weary to push it further, for now; he watched as Sebastian crouched at his feet. “These boots are a mystery for certain. There’s nothing scary about them at all, they’re just modeled after the kind worn by American cowboys. What was the inspiration here supposed to be?”

“More specifically, these are roper boots,” Sebastian said as he slipped them off one by one, “more comfortable and sturdy than a standard pair of cowboy boots. Wrangling cattle and wrangling souls aren’t so different as you might imagine.”

Ciel raised an eyebrow as he rolled his head to his shoulder. “Wrangling souls, huh. So are you saying you dressed me as a demon or what?”

Sebastian raised both eyebrows back. “Is that what I did?”

“... Ugh. Annoying bastard.” Ciel tugged on the bedraggled ends of his black tunic. “And what about this nonsense? Are all demons not fastidious like you about their appearances? Aren’t you just insulting your own species?”

“While other demons are, in fact, not typically so coiffed as myself,” Sebastian said with a note of disdain, “such ragged clothes should be taken more figuratively. It can be difficult for demons to hold a form at first, so their edges may have a bit of a wispy look when they struggle to stay corporeal.”

“At first…” A thought was growing. Ciel narrowed his eyes, then kicked out a foot. “And these stockings?”

“Bold stripes are quite youthful, don’t you think?”

“And these horns?”

“They’re very small, aren’t they?”

“And this bib collar…”

“Well, eating a soul can be an awfully messy process for a beginner—”

“You dressed me up as a demon baby!?” Ciel roared, leaping to his feet.

“Now, now, not necessarily a baby,” Sebastian held out his palms to settle things down. “Perhaps a young demon, making his first contract and just learning how to appear human…”

“Ugh!” Ciel folded his arms, wanting badly to be as angry as the situation deserved but… nn, so tired. He turned his drooping eyelids into a glare as he plopped back down on the bed. “Well your little joke is lost on us humans, so the only one to get any enjoyment out of it is you. But I bet you had fun privately making a fool of me.”

He glanced up and was surprised to see that Sebastian’s returning look was rather… soft. “I was not making a fool of you,” he said, reaching to Ciel’s throat to remove the ribbon he’d tied there four hours prior. “You humans often try your hand at representing devils in costume. I think it’s only fair that I should have my chance to show everyone what a real translation of the idea should look like, from the source.”

“So what, then, I’m meant to be a demon’s walking art exhibition?” Ciel tugged the stockings off his own legs, wanting more than ever to be rid of all this.

Sebastian removed the horns fastened in Ciel’s hair and the eye patch from around the back of his head. “That’s another way of looking at it,” he mused.

Ciel hesitated in peeling off the gloves that went nearly to his elbows. “... So then what way are you looking at it? Tell me already. I’m much too tired for guessing games.”

“... As a species, demons are quite different from humans,” Sebastian began as he helped Ciel back to his feet and continued readying him for his pajamas. “We are ‘born’ self-sufficient, though how we come into existence also varies greatly — most demons do not have parents. Nor do we share a consistent experience with youth; each of us is individual in how and when we grow. But perhaps… if ‘parenthood’ and ‘childhood’ were such common experiences amongst my kind… perhaps there would be those who would be excited to see their children experiencing their first contracts… trying to assimilate with humans and maybe doing a poor job of looking the part—”

“Enough. Your fantasy is getting completely ridiculous.” Ciel tugged his head through the opening of his nightshirt. “From the sound of things, I wasn’t even dressed as a demon child, I was dressed as a demon child who was badly dressed as a human child.”

“You don’t think that sounds cute?” Sebastian looked almost sorrowful about it.

“Why would I ever think something like that?” Ciel clambered into bed, exasperated. Then once again, the thought had to dawn. “... You think that’s cute?”

“I think it’s charming, like one of your kind’s fairy tales.” Sebastian looked completely idiotic now, holding out the stupid black tunic at arms’ length and admiring his own work with a half-smile.

“... Ugh.” Ciel had no idea how to respond, but he knew he’d had enough of staying awake. He nestled himself on the pillow. “From now on, I’m choosing my own Halloween attire. However many more opportunities I get to do so, anyway.”

“However many more,” Sebastian repeated softly. “And… young master?”

“What?” Ciel lay there, waiting for the blankets to be tucked over him so he could fall right into the warmth of slumber. What inane thing was coming next…?

Sebastian’s smile down at him was pointed — literally. His eyeteeth sparkled in the candlelight. “I so kindly allowed you to indulge in a fair bit of chocolate tonight, so please don’t think for an instant that I shall let you drift off before you brush your fangs. Up, up you get.”

“Before I brush my what? I don’t have anything like fangs, damn demon!”

“Hmm, don’t you? I could have sworn you did, just for this evening… I suppose it must have been a trick of the light.”

“Some trick! More like you got caught up in a stupid story of your own design!”

“My words seem to have given the young master a boost in energy. That shall aid you marvelously in getting to the sink.”

“... Hmph… Damn demon…”

#happy dadbastian week!#my writing

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