#not as embarrassing as the last one at least

[strawb3heart]

LALA!

warning: none

summary: The one where Lando Norris lies to a girl he just met who happens to then turn into his friend or something else..

NOT PROOFREAD!! My first language isn't English so sorry if there's any mistake.

Italy, 2022

"What do you mean if I'm sure? Of course I'm sure, Max. I've already decided" said a furious man while he was on the phone with his best friend "I think it will be the best thing to do to regain my sanity"

The brown-haired boy was more than fed up with being involved in senseless dramas, so he planned what was his best idea, traveling to a small town where he could live a vacation away from all the false and senseless rumors.

"If you think it's the best thing, I support you" Fewtrell finished saying, surrendered to the explosive character of his best friend "Just don't forget that you will have to return for the race in Belgium" And without anything else to say, the call ended.

Putting the phone in the back of his jeans, the brunette headed towards what seemed to be the house he had rented in a moment of desperation.

Upon arriving, reality finally hit him. What had he done? He should have been training, but he was once again avoiding his problems.

But there was no turning back, or at least that was what it seemed.

"Buongiorno" a small voice seemed to have taken him out of his thoughts, making Lando turn around in search of that voice.

"Elio! Non parlare con gli sconosciuti" a woman appeared behind a small child who didn't seem to be older than five years old. "Excuse me" The blonde seemed to have realized that he wasn't from around here

"No problem, he's a very cute little boy. What's his name?" The brown-haired boy greeted the little blonde boy who was now behind his mother? Sister? relative, hiding while being a bit shy.

"His name is Elio" She introduced the little kid "Are you new around here? I don't think I've seen you before" the stranger added, seeming disconcerted by his presence.

"I just came for vacation, you know, looking for some peace and quiet" To which the girl laughed softly

"Well, I think you're in the right place for that. If it's not too much of an intrusion, what do you do?"

"I..." the brown-haired boy hesitated. Why would I have to share the complete information with a stranger, right? "I'm an engineer, I work with cars and everything that is mechanics"

"Well, I guess we'll see you around here..."

"Max, my name is Max" he didn't know why but he was starting to regret on lying.

"Nice name, mine is Y/n, well, it was interesting meeting you, Max" And with that, the blonde continued on her way, walking hand in hand with little Elio, who gave her one last curious look before following the girl.

And that's how the boy stood there, in the middle of the boulevard, thinking about the interaction he had just had with the rather attractive girl.

As he set off again towards the place where he would be staying, he couldn't help but think about the crazy situation that he had created

But those thoughts lasted very little when he saw the incredible view he had from his room. Was all of Italy that resplendent?

The view of the sea was easily one of the most incredible he had ever had and the peaceful atmosphere provided him with the peace he was looking for.

From afar, he couldn't help but notice the blonde he had just been talking to. Although now, Y/n was sitting on the seashore, along with Elio, the boy who now seemed to be enjoying the water and the warm day.

Without really knowing why, Norris decided to leave the villa, thus approaching the place where the duo was.

"Sorry, I know I just met you, but I really wanted some company" said the brown-haired boy, looking quite embarrassed to see how his arrival had caught the attention of the younger and the blonde.

"Sure, don't worry. Elio, do you want to say hello to Max?" the boy, after hearing those words, turned to look at the young woman

"Mom, didn't you say not to talk to strangers?" the boy said with a mischievous smile while the girl laughed

"I know what I said, honey, but Max didn't want to be alone, why don't you try to talk to him?" the mother replied, giving him a smile

Lando Norris couldn't hide his surprise, how is it that that young woman was already a mother?

"Max, do you like building sand castles?" asked little Elio, still a little shy and even scared.

The brown-haired boy, now showing a big smile, nodded, seeing how the child's face lit up with his answer.

Lando Norris still had no idea what would happen that summer, and he also didn't know what that white lie would cost him.

Pt.2

requests are always open 🌷

[uniquexusposts]

This is embarrassing - M. Verstappen (1)

Summary: Y/n is bored at work, a souvenir shop in a ski resort, until Max enters the shop at the last moment. Part two Part three

Y/n leaned against the counter and flipped through the pages of a German tabloid. This had to be the fourth time; she knew every in and out of the magazine now. She wasn't a big fan of tabloids, but when there was nothing to do? A decent thing to fill the time with. Plus, the Germans knew how to gossip. The store she worked in was... Empty. Y/n looked up and let her eyes glide over the stands; everything was filled and cleaned. She looked outside: it was dark, and snowing heavily.

She sighed loudly and straightened her back. For hours, Y/n had avoided the time. But now it must have been late, at least an hour since the last time she checked. It was only ten minutes later than the last time she checked it.

"My goodness," she whispered. Her shift had thirty minutes left, and there was no way, not under any circumstance (well, unless someone dies), that she could close the shop earlier.

For the third time, she took the broom and walked around the store at a slow pace. If this store wasn't part of the resort, she would've been gone a long time ago. It paid well; the hours were decent, it was just quiet after seven o'clock in the evening.

Y/n quickly turned around when someone opened the door. The sound of the wind filled the store, and some snow got blown inside. There. Is. Snow. Inside. I just cleaned everything. Her eyes fell on someone in a bright red ski suit. The face of the visitor was covered with a scarf. A forced smile came on her face. "Good evening," she said.

"Hello," the voice said and walked around the store.

Y/n made her way back to the counter in the front of the store and put away the magazine. It was not like she wasn't happy to see a person, but that person brought in a lot of snow, and the floor was dry and clean. On the other hand, she had a task to do until closing time.

"Hey," she said when the person was standing on the other side of the counter.

"Hey, I will take this." The person placed the items on the counter

She nodded; she thought it was a man. Many people entered the story completely packed, not showing who they were. They would stay for a couple of minutes, so why put everything off and then put everything back on a minute later? "Is it a present?" She scanned the price tags of the hoodie and mug. This person also got some snacks. She let the person pay.

"Yes, please."

"Perfect," she muttered, opening the drawer to look for wrapping paper. "Is it for Christmas, a birthday or just a gift?"

"Christmas. Well, the hoodie and mug."

She nodded and looked into the drawer. She quickly realised that there was no wrapping paper. Not at all. Not for a birthday, not for Christmas and not for any occasion. Y/n pressed her lips into a thin line. She was busy filling the time that she hadn't noticed that the drawer was empty. Plus, no one made a note. Y/n looked up; the man had removed the hood and scarf from his head. Blushes came on her cheeks. She opened her mouth to apologise, but the man had already seen what had happened, and he simply smiled and nodded.

The man had a gentle face, but his eyes said that he was disappointed. He had definitely not intended to come here now.

"It's alright," he said. "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Y/n nodded and thanked him, not knowing what else to say. She felt embarrassed and ashamed. It was a feeling she would get with anyone, but this was Max Verstappen. He showed calmness, and it didn't seem like he was bothered by the lack of wrapping paper.

"I should have stopped by earlier," he blamed himself.

"No, I mean, we need to have the wrapping paper in stock. It's not your fault," she said, opening some more cabinets under the counter. "Uhm, I have a tote bag?" It was not like she had more choice.

"Okay."

Y/n grabbed some tissue paper and began to pack the gifts, taking extra care to fold them, so they covered each item neatly. Max watched her intently, making sure she didn't miss anything. Y/n could feel her cheeks burn even more; she must look like a tomato now. She put the gifts in the tote bag, folded it and put it in a brown paper bag with the snacks.

"That looks perfect," Max said.

She smiled and thanked him again, feeling the warmth of his approval. She liked the way he accepted the situation and trusted her to handle it.

"It's the thought that counts," he added, and she agreed, feeling that it was true in more ways than one.

The eyes of Y/n fell on the darkness outside. "I will put it in another bag; I don't know if this will survive the snow," she said and put the bag in another bag. "My apologies again."

"It's okay," he replied. "I came here fifteen minutes before closing time, and it can happen."

"Still," she mumbled. "Anyway, here you go."

"Thank you," he politely said. "And do you mind if I wait for another ten minutes? The app says that the wind will be less strong then."

Y/n nodded. "Sure, no problem. Do you want a chair?"

"Sure."

She moved a chair from behind the desk to the guy. "There you go. Do you mind if I'm gonna prepare the store for closing?"

"No, no, absolutely not. Go ahead.”

“Keep an eye on the counter. Make sure no one robs the store,” she chuckled. 

“Can’t promise anything,” Max widely smiled. 

Y/n grabbed the broom and walked through the store again. Once she was out of sight of Max Verstappen, she stopped walking, and her jaw dropped. Tears of excitement covered her sight. Max Verstappen in the store?! And running out of wrapping paper?! She looked up at the talented driver. And if he were someone else, she still would feel embarrassed, but this was Max Verstappen. What must he think of me now?! She dried her eyes and continued walking through the store.

"I like the store," Max Verstappen suddenly said when he saw the young woman walking towards him again. "I walked past it a couple of times this week. Now I had to be here." The store mostly sold souvenirs and gifts but also had basic needs.

"Thank you," Y/n replied. "Are you enjoying your stay here?" The village they were in was part of a ski resort.

"Yes, absolutely. It's fantastic here," he smiled. "Can't get enough from this place. I am here every year, but it doesn't tire me," he shared.

How have I never seen him before?

"I like that this village is not too busy," he continued.

"Yeah, I'm glad it is," she agreed. "Sometimes it's too quiet, but it's better than those resorts where people fight for a bit of space."

"As a guest, I really like it."

"That's good, that is what counts," Y/n smiled.

"Did you have a busy day?"

She slowly nodded. "People who forgot their Christmas present at home."

Max chuckled. "Guilty."

"I reckon tomorrow will be worse, it's Christmas Eve then." She took a deep breath.

"It's always the thing that I thought I packed, but it's never the case. Now my sister gets a hoodie and a coffee mug," he said, being disappointed in himself.

Y/n leaned against the counter. "Yeah, I mean, Christmas is about giving. And they're nice. I love those gifts. It's for a memory. If someone got me a hoodie from a gift shop, I would probably live in it for a couple of days. But that's me."

It made Max think. "My sister is like that too. I think this gift is better than the original." He looked outside and then at his phone. "I think it's safe to go outside. Are you almost off?" Max started to pack himself.

Y/n looked outside; it looked more friendly. Luckily, for her too. "Yeah, I'm closing up, and then I'm going home," she nodded. "Watch out when you go to your accommodation. And happy holidays."

"Thank you, you too," he said, grabbing his gift. "And walk safely."

"I will, thanks."

She watched as he left, the brown paper bag clutched in his arms. She was sure his brother would be pleased, and she was glad she had been able to help him.

Part two

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u @sltwins @heart-trees

[rueclfer]

everything is embarrassing // izuku midoriya

when he doesn't know how to take control of his life

a/n: 6k+ words lmao i feel crazzzzzy ok bye

19-year-old izuku doesn't have the privilege of hopping around college parties on the weekends or enjoy the “college experience” like his friends do.

he can barely catch a break to breathe.

monday through friday he's in classes from 8:00am to 4:00pm, and for more than half of the week from 6:00pm to 12:00am, he's working at the campus library- simultaneously shelving returns, organizing files, and scrambling to finish his homework. on the weekends, he'll be at his part time job at the local cafe just down the street from his dorm building.

it hasn't been an easy semester for izuku. he's a year behind his friends and he wants nothing more than to be able to walk across that stage with them by the end of their fourth year, but nothing comes easy when you’ve been out of school for a year, no money, have a scholarship on the line, and a single mother at home to make proud.

he's watching the time go by. his eyes darting back and forth between the ticking needle on the analog clock and you sitting at your usual table with your headphones on, attention glued to your textbook, and the tapping of your pencil growing louder by the second.

occasionally, he'd let himself clock out and lock up about 5-10 minutes early if there was no one lingering around on his floor, and all of the day's work had been completed. no one stays as late in the library as you do. it annoys him. 

5-10 minutes is crucial to izuku.

he could get a head-start on his commute back to his dorm. if he walks quickly enough, he'd be back before 12:15am, be ready for bed by 12:35am, and he'd be able to get at least 6 hours of sleep.

if he's lucky.

but you. you were always there until the very last minute- sometimes even past closing.

it's 12:05am. how could anyone be so careless to not keep an eye on the time? can’t you see that it’s only you two left on this floor? did you not hear the 10 minute closing warning on the intercom?

if he wasn't running on a couple hour of sleep, a poor excuse for dinner, and 6 hours worth of brain numbing work, he wouldn't have the nerves to approach you so casually. he'd be replaying what he wanted to say in his head, stumbling over his words, and hope you wouldn't take offense to it.

"the library's closed." he bluntly says, still maintaining a few feet of distance.

you don't hear him or notice his presence at all. you're lost in that textbook and your mind is fumbling through these terms and definitions staring back at you.

izuku blinks once. then twice.

"hey." he starts again, taking a step closer and setting a hand down on the table right above your textbook.

you look up and catch the library worker’s tired eyes. your gaze immediately flickers to the analog clock hung on the wall past his shoulder.

12:12am

“oh shit!” you exclaim, ripping off your headphones. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i lost track of time.”

you slam your textbook shut, rubbing your eyes against the back of your hand. how long had you been at it like this? studying the hours away in your own corner of the library?

“yeah.” izuku breathily chuckles, a sense of relief washing over him as he watches you haphazardly shove your books and papers in your bag. “sorry, i hate to interrupt a good study session, but i’m kinda tired, and if i stay here for another minute, the shelves might start talking to me.”

“god, don’t be sorry. i get it.” you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “i’m here, like, everyday. i’m sure everyone who works here is sick of me by now.”.

“yeah, me too.” he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you two make your way towards the exit. “here everyday, that is.” he quips, nervously running a hand through his tousled hair.

“look at us, so scholarly.” your voice dripping in sarcasm. you turn your head over your shoulder to meet his eye. “paying so much money for this university to drain us of all joy in life.”

“well, i’m on a scholarship.” izuku mutters. “so i guess i still have some joy left?

“yeah? well that’s actually even worse.” 

“is it?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“you have much more to lose.”

-

the next time you two see each other, he’s knelt over an open filing cabinet, digging through dividers for some sort of paperwork. 

since that night you’ve met, university life has felt a bit less lonely- something about taking a 20 minute walk to your dorm buildings, which happens to be right next to each other, complaining about how terrible of time you’re having adjusting to university life really brings people together.

“hey.” you cough.

izuku looks up to see you sporting a coffee cup in each hand.

“oh. it’s you. hey.”

you hold one out to him, waiting for him to take it, but all he does is give you a blank stare as his eyes flicker between your own and the cup outreached towards him.

“take it.” you chuckle. “i brought it for you. you looked like shit last time i saw you, so...”

the corners of his mouth quirks up into a smile, gingerly accepting the hot cup of coffee.

“...so this is your apology for staying past closing the other night?” he teases.

“oh definitely not.” you scoff. “i’ll be doing it again tonight too, don’t you worry.”

he nods his head, taking a deep swig of the bittersweet coffee. “see you at midnight, then.”

“see you at midnight.” you confirm, sending him a smile as you pull your headphones over your ear and head towards the back of the library where your designated table was waiting for you.

-

at 21-years-old, izuku goes to his first house party. it takes you about a week to convince him to give you one of his saturday nights that he’d usually reserve for studying or catching up on sleep.

“please.” you beg once more. “what are you going to say to your future students? how are you going to say you had the college experience without going to a single party?”

“with a degree?” he chuckles, slinging a rag over his shoulder. “you’re also distracting me. i’m on the clock, and my boss can come back anytime, you know.”

“oh, please.” you roll your eyes. “if toshinori was here, he’d be telling you to put your big boy pants on and get drunk with his favorite customer tonight. and if you agreed the first time i asked, i wouldn’t have to follow you to your second place of employment.”

“i’m sorry, i can’t. maybe next time?”

“please, izuku, just one party. i’ll help you get ready after your shift. we’ll leave anytime you want, but i can guarantee you’ll have so much fun. i promise i’ll never ask you again if you really do end up hating it.”

he can imagine it now- if someone asked him about his college experience, he wouldn’t mention the parties, the professors, or the time spent away from home. he’d talk about you.

izuku has a hard time balancing his life between keeping up with the workload and trying to not let his days blend into a muddy gray, but you had perfectly fit somewhere in between all of the chaos like a fresh breath of air.

izuku was tired, and you were a shot of espresso. how can he say no to you?

“fine.” he sighs in defeat, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards you. “but i can’t be out that late, okay? i have to be back here in the morning.”

-

“what the fuck happened?” you slam the door shut behind you, muffling out chatter of the crowd and heavy bass shaking through the walls. 

you twist a wad of toilet paper into a cone before plugging the stream of blood gushing from his nose.

“sorry, sorry, sorry!” he repeats, holding the toilet paper in place with a bewildered look in his eyes. 

“i don’t know what happened,” he starts in a nasally tone “maybe it’s all the smoke in the air or something. i heard that second hand smoke can be really drying for your nasal passages, especially if there’s not a lot of ventilation like in this apartment, i also haven’t been drinking a lot of water today and-”

“aht!” you interrupt, nudging him over with your elbow to rinse your hands off from the bloody residue. “my theory is that your body is shutting down on itself from the lack of proper sleep and nutrition. thoughts?”

izuku pouts. “stop it. i had a protein shake before we came, remember?”

“of course, how could i forget about the most rancid concoction you managed to blend together?” you mutter, wetting a wad of toilet paper and dabbing away the dried blood that had fallen onto his chin and t-shirt.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, holding up the red solo cup containing a questionable blue liquid that you shoved in his hands to hold when his nose started dripping blood. 

“wow, since when were you a chem major? since you know so much about ‘rancid concoctions,’ huh?” he deadpans.

“izuku midoriya, are you getting sassy with me?” you scoff, grabbing the cup back from his hands.

“maybe i am.” he presses his lips together to suppress a smirk. “or maybe i’m just making an observation.”

izuku had finally started learning how to bite back. somewhere within the last year, the skittish library worker who you enjoyed pestering had grown the confidence to return your relentless teasing.

you weren’t sure how to take it- how giddy it made you feel and how much more of it you wanted to draw out of him.

to him, it was all a front. he perfected the line delivery with ease, but at the cost of his chest tightening and stomach turning over the sight of your amused smile and lit up eyes. this made him anxious.

you have much more to lose

everytime he sees you, he’s reminded of your very first conversation together when you were first years. he’s acutely aware of how much he has to lose, but if there’s one thing izuku could not bear to risk losing during the worst few years of his life, it was you.

“uh, why are you looking at me like that?” he nervously chuckles, his ears growing hot from trailing your eyes as they glaze over his face.

“i love you.” you smile, the alcohol finally making its way to your head. “a lot.”

izuku’s breathing stops for a moment. his eyes widen, and the nervous giggles continue pouring out as his facade from minutes earlier crumbles completely.

“why are you laughing?” you chuckle, taking a sip from your cup, choking back a grimace.

“i…i don’t know.” he bites his bottom lip, suddenly aware of his nervous habit. “you’re just being a silly drunk right now."

“what? because i said i love you?” you cock your head with a lazy smile “the L-word got your panties in a twist?”

“don’t know what you mean.” he turns his attention back to the mirror, subtly swiping his sweaty palms on his thighs before unplugging the tissue from his nose. 

for the first time in his life, he’s simultaneously grateful and regretful for alcohol. grateful for the red sheen over his face to mask his blush. regretful for the carelessness it caused you with your words. 

he doesn’t have the time or energy to entertain it. that is the one thing he’s certain of. he wouldn’t be good for you- wouldn’t give you the time and attention you deserved. he loves you too. he loves you enough to not say it back.

“it stopped bleeding. i think i’ll have to leave soon, so let’s get back out there, yeah? i’ll make you a better drink, too.”

he shoots you a forced grin before grabbing you by the shoulders and ushering you two back to the party where you reunite with your roommates and mutual friends. you leave your drink in the bathroom.

-

on the day izuku turns 22-years-old, he finds out that he’s on track to graduate with you and his friends. after stepping out for a quick phone call with his academic advisor, he drunkenly cries into your shoulder mid-birthday party (that his boss at the cafe forced him to take the time off to have).

all of the hard work and courses he packed on during his first two years at university finally paid off. though, that doesn't mean he’s gotten any easier on himself.

he quits his job at the library and starts student teaching part time at the local middle school for college credit.

you barely see him now-a-days. more often than not, your texts go unanswered.

izuku is a busy guy.

you miss him. you didn't realize how lonely it felt to walk back to your dorm from the library at midnight by yourself- you haven't felt this way for a while, not since you met izuku. 

you wished he made it easier for you. your feelings for him never subsides, but instead grows into a longing ache. it’ll be like this until graduation. the occasional text message, running into each other in the halls with quick hello and goodbye, coming into his weekend job just to see him for a few reassuring moments- you know you both needed it.

he talks about you to his students a lot- “my best friend,” “someone important to me,” “my support system,” and etc. he’s always referring to you.

he missed seeing you all the time, but it’s all been so hectic for him he hates to admit that you barely cross his mind when he’s in the midst of a busy day. on top of his regular grueling school work, he has to lesson-plan for the days he’s teaching, grade papers, as well as check in with his professors and mentors.

he doesn’t know how he does it.

working in that library was excruciating, but he missed nothing more than the last half hour of his shifts where it’d just be you two, sending shy glances at one another until it hit midnight. he doesn’t even mind the rest of the 6 hour shift where you’re just sitting in the same spot that you always gravitate towards, head in the textbook for him to look up at every now and then.

you tell him you love him for the second time at the end of your graduation party when all of the guests have cleared out of your half empty apartment.

“what?” his eyes go wide, exactly like they did a year ago.

“i love you, izuku.” you ball the sides of your graduation gown, wrinkling the fabric in your hands.

you’re sober this time, which makes it infinitely more painful to say out loud.

his mouth gapes open as if he’s a fish gasping for water. he doesn’t know what to say.

“i have for years.” you fill in the silence, fidgeting with the silky material. “ever since you kicked me out of that fucking library, i think. i don’t know. maybe i’m being stupid, but i can’t help it. i love you, and i need you to know before… you know.”

it’s been three years, and you’ve waited until this night to pour it all out because you knew that in less than 24 hours, you’d be going your separate ways.

in a perfect situation, izuku would tell you that he feels the same. he’d run through an airport to stop you from leaving and beg you to stay with him. you wouldn’t have to go back home. you’d share an apartment. live in the city. start your entry jobs. you’d have time together.

“i’m sorry.” is all he says. “i’m sorry.” he repeats.

tears well in his eyes, and he grabs you by the shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“sheesh, you’re such a crybaby.” you choke out a half chuckle, your eyes running hot now. “don’t be sorry, okay? i get it. i know.”

your arms tightly wrap around izuku’s waist as you two silently sob into one another. his hand runs through your hair, stopping at the nape of your neck to pull you closer.

there’s something much more painful behind this confession to cry about. you’re leaving the city, and you have no reason to stay. for the first time in three years, izuku won’t be within arm’s reach and you’re left with the cold reality of navigating your future without your best friend by your side.

“you know, i..” he begins, pulling you back to look at your face, searching for the right words, or an answer. “it’s not that i don’t feel the same, okay?” 

his cheeks lightly dust over pink. it’s the first time he’s admitted that out loud.

“i know.” you sadly smile, your hand reaching up to wipe away the stray tears left on his cheeks. “we’ll be okay. we worked hard for this, izuku.”

izuku felt like throwing up. he had spent the last three years working himself into the ground with endless all-nighters, black coffees, and missed events to get everything he’s ever wanted for his future, so why does it feel like his world is slipping from between his fingers?

yes, he worked hard, but he wondered if it was all enough?

“i’m going to miss you.” he mutters, connecting your foreheads together. “i already do. you’re everything to me.”

“me more. i’ll miss you more.”

after that night, you don’t see izuku again for a long time. 

izuku jumps into his new position at the local high school in the same school district as the middle school he worked at during his last year of university. he feels a sense of relief everytime he walks into his school building- something that he couldn’t ever say during his years as a student.

you move back home and land an entry job at a startup tech company. it’s boring work, but at least it’s remote and your days don’t mesh into one- you made sure you would never have to go through that again.

you try to stay connected, but work is busy, and you’re both trying to figure out what life is supposed to look like post-grad. occasionally, you’ll send each other a meaningless “thinking of you” message, but you eventually lose contact after a couple of years of trying to plan visits and meet ups- there is just no time. there never was.

-

at 27-years-old, izuku is spending his late afternoon sitting in his empty classroom with one of his students. it’s half an hour past their scheduled parent-teacher conference time, and he’s wondering if he should just reschedule.

“are you sure your mom is coming? did you tell her the right time and date?” izuku sighs, resting his head on a propped elbow.

“duh. what kind of student do you think i am?” they scoff, glancing up at him from their phone.

“judging by your grades, i know exactly the kind of student you are.” he mumbles.

izuku’s trying to not panic, the kid clearly isn’t, but he’s wondering how far back this sets his schedule. he should be starting on the stack of papers to grade by now. he still needs to write out a lesson plan for tomorrow. maybe the kids deserve a movie day? maybe he deserves a movie day.

“don’t freak out.” izuku hears from outside of his door “you’re fine. it’s okay. seriously, chill the fuck out you weren’t interrupting anything, i needed a break anyways. i’m walking in right now. yeah, i’ll let you know how it goes.”

finally.

izuku straightens up, and tightens his tie. he whips open his laptop and pulls up the tabs of grades and assignments to discuss.

“i’m so sorry-” the voice falters at the end as it enters the classroom.

“don’t be, i was just-” izuku glances up from his screen and his throat suddenly closes shut.

5 years later, and the universe leads you back to one another. here. in his classroom.

“izuku midoriya?” you cough out.

for the first time in his life, he doesn’t like the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. it’s hesitant. it sounds foreign. it makes him question himself for a moment. 

yes? that’s me, right? it’s me, izuku. your izuku.

“what are…uh.. you…here?” he stammers, unable to get the words out.

you take a step forward into the classroom. you could pass out at the sight of him. he still seemed as boyish as ever. maybe a bit broader, and taller, but his hair is still just as wild as it was in university. you can’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity as you wonder if you looked any different as well.

“uh…where’s mom?” your nephew glances back and forth between you two starstrucked at the sight of one another. “we have to look over my grades and stuff, you know.”

“right!” you exclaim. “your mom got caught up at work, so she asked me to come in.” you awkwardly shift in your position, your eyes never leaving izuku’s.

izuku’s face flares up in heat, snapping back into the present as his eyes flicker back towards his student.

“you know what? let’s reschedule that. you can go and i’ll see you tomorrow?” he quickly stands up, knocking over his chair and hitting his knee against his desk in the process.

“really?” they cock an eyebrow at the shift in behavior from the two adults in the room.

“yup! we’re running late and i have a meeting right now, so i’ll just email your mom to reschedule.” he forces a reassuring grin, making his way around his desk. “don’t forget to read over the syllabus to see what’s due, alright?”

“alright, i guess. see you tomorrow then, sensei” they shoot you a questioning side glance as they sling their backpack over their shoulder. “are you taking me home?”

“no.” you say, almost a bit too quickly. “uh, i have some errands to run before your mom gets back home, so you go on ahead i’ll see you at home.”

once your nephew leaves, unsuspecting of the thick line of tension running between his aunt and teacher, izuku quickly rushes over and shuts his door.

“whatareyoudoinghere?” the sentence leaves his mouth in an incoherent string of words. he grabs you by the shoulders and lets his eyes take in your face. every curve, every mark, every wrinkle, old and new.

you feel 19 again. you guess the urge to kiss izuku midoroya never leaves you, after all. 

“my sister just got a new job, so i’m living with her and helping her out with the kids while she adjusts.” you breathlessly stare at him. “i didn’t know you were still in the city.”

of course he’s still here- exactly where you left him after all these years. his grip on your shoulders tightens as a response. he’s scared that if he lets go, you’ll be gone for good, or at least for another 5 years.

“we should catch up.” you smile, grabbing onto his forearms as a warmth crawls up your next “when are you free? i mean, you’re probably really busy, but even a phone call-”

“tonight? how about tonight?” he blurts out. “we can go somewhere?”

izuku reassures himself that it’s fine. the kids can have a movie day, and he’ll spend that time grading papers and catching up on work. the only thing he needs is right in front of him.

seeing your face light up makes him feel nothing but nostalgic euphoria. he never wants to lose this feeling again.

“i’ll text you, then? you still have my number?”

he almost laughs in your face. your text conversation has been pinned to the top since the day you exchanged phone numbers.

“by heart.”

-

“tech? like you work in IT?” izuku’s face scrunches in disgust. he almost spits his drink out. “why the hell would you do that to yourself?”

“shut up!” you rub your face in your hands, snorting out a laugh. “it’s easy, i’m in a senior position, it pays well, and it’s remote. that’s all i care about for now.”

you two meet at a nearby bar. outside of his suit and tie, he looked much younger. he looks like the izuku you knew half a decade ago with his perpetual pink cheeks, slightly too large graphic tee, and red sneakers.

“so you’re now living with your sister… in the city.” he begins, looking into your eyes with a hopeful gleam. “for how long?”

“i’m not sure.” you shrug. “i’m still figuring it out, but my lease back home is up at the end of next month, so either way, i have to see what i want to do by then.”

“you should stay in the city.” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could process them.

“i mean- it’s just, you know, your sister is here, and her kids, and there’s more opportunities and stuff, and your work is remote anyways, and uh-” he stammers, words flowing out in an unstoppable stream.

“-and you’re here?” you tease.

his face flushes red.

“it is a possibility.” you sigh, shooting him a subtle smirk and saving him the embarrassment of coming up with a response. “i don’t know though. my sister wants me to stay too, but it’s a lot to think about.”

“i get it. my mom moved to the city to be near. it was hard for her.” he takes a sip of his drink. “not with me, though! she’s got a townhouse in the outskirts.” he quips.

you laugh. he definitely hasn't changed.

“speaking of, do you want to come back to my apartment? right now?” he shyly asks, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

“right now?” you look down and check the time displayed on your phone.

11:00pm.

“it’s a school night isn’t it?” you cock your head to the side. "i'm surprised you even wanted to meet up this late. thought i'd have to book office hours with you weeks in advance to catch up." you tease

izuku mentally curses at himself for being so forgetful, and so predictable. he doesn’t want this night with you to end, but that 7:00am alarm set for tomorrow morning is inching closer and closer.

“you’re right.” his confidence deflates. “i guess we should get going.”

you two pay your tab and make your way to the exit. you stand facing each other at the corner of the street, taking in each other’s presence once more.

there’s a faint buzzing in your ear from the lamppost hanging above you and your breaths come out in shallow puffs. you don’t know why you’re so nervous all of the sudden. you wish you didn’t have to leave again.

“so, can we do this again? can i see you again?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“you think i’d get to see izuku midoriya from beyond the grave and let you get away? for the second time?”

he feels like he could cry right now, so he pulls you in for a hug instead. you haven’t changed at all- not in the ways that matter anyways. his hand falls against the nape of your neck as he presses his cheek against your forehead.

“i missed you.” he mutters into your hair.

“me more.”

before you go your separate ways, i love you sits at the tip of his tongue. he wants to tell you. to finally say back after all of these years, but it somehow doesn’t feel right- not yet at least.

-

a few weeks later, you find yourself sitting in one of izuku’s classroom desks. the top button of his shirt is undone, his sleeves rolled up, and the soft late afternoon sunlight streaming through his window bathes him in gold.

from over your laptop screen, you see izuku mumbling to himself as he reads through essays while twirling a red pen between his fingers. the look of concentration had been plastered to his face since you were students- dark furrowed brows, unblinking eyes, a twinge of anxiety, and tightly pressed lips.

“you’re staring.” he mutters in between his incoherent mumbles.

his eyes snap up to meet yours.

“no i’m not.” you shrug, suppressing a satisfied smile as your eyes return to your own screen.

“I think i’ve gotten pretty good at noticing after spending all those years with you in that library.” he returns the smile, leaning back in his seat. “you don’t stare often, but when you do, you stare loud.”

“says you.” you roll your eyes. “you don’t think i ever noticed the thousand glances every hour?”

his face scrunches in embarrassment. 

“not like i could help myself.” he mutters, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. 

“ditto.” you halfway close your laptop and rest your head on a propped elbow. “but you knew that.”

the air in the room thickens between you two. you’ve been itching to have a conversation with izuku about your last moments before you left the city 5 years ago, but there hasn’t been a good time to bring it up. you weren’t even sure if you should at all.

“i don’t think i ever noticed.”

“noticed what?”

“that you liked me.” he pressed his lips together, nervous to bring up the past. “like that at least. i didn’t have a clue before you took me to that party.”

“how could you?” you breathe out a chuckle. “you were drowning in your work and studies, there was no time to even sleep let alone have anything romantic.”

a beat of silence passes.

“sorry.” he mutters.

“don’t be.” you shrug. "i loved you enough for the both of us. you were my best friend, and i wouldn’t change anything. maybe i would’ve forced you to take more naps, though.” you chuckle.

he doesn’t like the past tense termage of this conversation. it makes him feel a bit nauseous thinking that he really did lose it all, even with you here in front of him.

“i told you i felt the same, didn’t i?”

“mmm.. i guess so.” you mutter. “but it’s different. it was a goodbye.”

“i’m sorry.” he says again, with a pout this time.

“stop that.” you launch your pen in his direction, bouncing off of the chalk board behind him. “i’m here now. you’re here. you’re still my best friend. everything’s the same, except we’re a little bit older and have 5 years to catch up on. isn’t that enough?”

you two danced around the conversation for a few more minutes before returning to your work in silence. there was no clear answer as to where your feelings for each other stand now, but he feels just as sick as he did the day of the grad party.

but isn’t that enough? to just have you here now?

on a saturday night in his apartment, just days before you have to go home and sort out your living situation, izuku tells you he loves you for the first time.

you’re staring at him, unsure if maybe you heard him wrong or if it was the television in the background.

“huh?” your mouth gapes open. “what’d you say?”

“i..i love you.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth. “i love you, okay?”

for a split second, there’s a sequence of images that flash through his mind. his body would learn to wake up at 6:55am every morning despite his alarm being set for 7:00am. he sees you peacefully sleeping next to him, and he can’t bring himself to let that alarm go off and disturb you.

he’d start the coffee pot- enough for two, obviously. maybe he’d leave a nice note for you to start your day off with. maybe a grocery list if you’re up for the trip, but you’d insist that you go to the market together on the weekend. you’re very distracting, and he knows this, but you’d somehow always meet at the dining room table or his classroom to do work together. 

he’d come home to you softly singing in the kitchen while making dinner. every now and then, he’d surprise you with flowers when he comes home from work, but he’ll brush it off and say it’s “for the apartment” just out of pure nerves. movie nights. falling asleep on the couch together. waking up in the afternoon with a split second of panic- but it’s the weekend and he doesn’t have a class to get to. he’d see the sunlight pool against your face as you slowly wake up from your slumber with fluttering eyelashes. he’d kiss you in that unsuspecting moment. he’d say he loves you with every breath leaving his lungs. he’d always have time for you.

“izuku.” you sadly smile, turning over to the stove and extinguishing the flame. “you don’t have to do this, you know?”

his heart sinks to his stomach.

“i know- no it’s not like that.” he stammers. “it’s because.. i’m saying it because…”

he makes his way around the kitchen island to you, firmly gripping your shoulders. he wants to make sure you hear this from him properly. after all of these years.

“because i love you, and i think i alway have.” he bites his bottom lip. “and i think i always will, and you’re here, and i’m here, and i know it’s hard because i kind of really messed things up in university, but to be honest, i regret everything because yeah i love my job and i’m doing okay now, but i lost you for 5 years and thought i’d never get to see you again and i should've-”

he stops himself when he sees his reflection in your eyes. he’s doing it again- the rambling.

“sorry.” he mutters. “but do you…do you understand?” he almost pleads.

“i understand.” you nod your head, a long exhale following your reply.

for a moment, you’re 22 again, and the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over are no longer apologetic, but now hopeful.

you can’t help but pull him into a hug, running your hand up and down his back as he sniffs back his tears.

“always such a crybaby, izuku.” you muffle into his shoulder. “i love you, too. you know that.”

“i feel so stupid.” he chokes out. “5 years is so long, and i feel like i blacked out for the entirety of that time and now that you’re back, i’m alive and can't do it without you again.”

he pulls away, looking back at you with furrowed brows and tear stained cheeks.

“please stay in the city. please.” 

your eyes widen at the request- the same request you wished left his lips all those years ago.

“you want me to stay?”

“selfishly, yes.” he bites down on his bottom lip. “here. with me.”

you take a moment and let your eyes wander around the apartment. you eye the half cooked dinner on the stove, the pile of unopened mail sitting on the counter, the row of dead plants lining the living room window.

izuku follows your eyes. he knows you’d settle in nicely, almost like the final piece in a puzzle. he feels it in his gut. he also feels the panic bubbling in his stomach the longer your gaze lingers at the chaos behind him.

“is that too fast?” he breaks the silence. “sorry. i don’t mean to jump from ‘i love you’ to ‘move in with me’ in the same night.” he awkwardly laughs, releasing you from his grip. “uh, maybe we’ll talk more about that after dinner.”

his face burns into a bright red- snapping out of his love dazed state and back into the reality where he just confessed to his best friend on a random night in.

“maybe after dinner, you can give me a proper tour of the place?” 

for the first time in izuku's life, he feels content knowing that time passes and the world continues to turn.

with you, it feels a bit gentler.

with you, it's worth it.

-

bonus ssrryy i have to be indulgent lmao:

the first time izuku kisses you, you're on your way back from a late night outing from the bars with his coworkers where he introduces you as his partner for the first time.

"you sure you're okay?" he laughs as you rub your hand against the back of his neck from the passenger seat.

"super peachy, zuku." you hiccup, twirling a green curl between your fingers. "a few drinks got nothing on me."

izuku presses his lip into a wobbly smile.

from his peripheral, he feels your stare burning into his side profile, only making him more nervous by the second. he thinks about teasing you and calling it out for a moment, but he remains silent for the rest of the drive back home.

izuku parks the car, shutting off the engine and letting the overhead light dimly illuminated the space between you two.

he leans over to meet your eyes and rests his elbow over the center console, taking a second to silently debrief from the night's social outing.

"thanks for coming out with me." he whispers, reaching down and shyly interlocking his index finger with yours.

"i love a good excuse to drink." you laugh, leaning in and letting your foreheads connect.

izuku only had a single drink several hours ago, but he suddenly blacks out. with his other hands, he reaches up and tips your chin up and lock his lips with yours.

it takes you off guard, but you don't hesitate to reach up and rest your hand on the side of his neck.

when izuku pulls away, his breathing is heavy and face grows red. your finger remains interlocked.

"um. i love you." he coughs, briefly meeting your gaze before darting away. "uh, sorry i should have asked" he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"i love you, izuku midoriya." you say in a teasing tone, leaning further over the center console and into the driver's seat.

izuku leans away until his back hits the soft interior of the car door.

"uh, we should.. we should go in? right?" he starts, eyes widening as you inch closer.

you reach over and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into you.

"yeah, we should." you say before crashing your lips into his, feeling him accept the defeat with a nervous laugh as he lets his hands find the soft skin of your cheek and warmth of your neck.

[scratchandfriends]

In Need of a Healer (+18)

Pairing: Halsin x Female Tav

WC: 2200

Summary: You accidentally mix up your mushrooms when trying to make a potion and it goes horribly wrong. Or... not so horribly, in the grand scheme of things?

Content Warnings: SMUT! Huuuge breeding kink, aphrodisiac situation, no bear :( big dick Halsin, unprotected sex, a smidge of dirty talk, maybe a little pregnancy kink Halsin at the end but who knows hes 400 years old, creampies.

— — 

Halsin sat under the pallid moonlight, back against the outside of his tent, humming contentedly as he whittled yet another small duck. A little smile decorated his chiseled face as he marveled at the way his craft looked in the pale starlight. The only thing he could hear was his own humming, the soft scrape of his knife against the wooden duck, and the soft chirping of crickets in the tall grass surrounding the camp. 

The peaceful sounds of a night at camp were eventually broken by hurried footsteps heading quickly towards his tent. 

Tav rounded the large tree that Halsin had set up his tent next to and was breathing heavily. She quickly came to a stop and let out a long sigh. 

“Oh, thank the gods you’re still up!” 

“Ah, Tav. A pleasure to see you on this beautiful night. How are you?” He looked up at her panting form and smiled. She seemed distraught and uncomfortable. 

“Been better actually.. but, um, how are..  you?” She asks, trying desperately to be polite but Halsin could tell there was something wrong. “I like your duck. Is that a new one?” Tav says between heavy breaths, like she had just run several miles. 

“Yes, it’s a canvasback duck. Very interesting species as it lives in both fresh and salt waters.” Halsin explains as he holds up his whittled figuring. 

“Right yes. Very cool.” Tav hurriedly spits out. 

“I can tell you aren’t here to discuss my hobbies, Tav. You seem… a bit perturbed. Anything I can help with?” Halsin asks. 

“Gods, yes. Or at least I hope… Can we talk… inside your tent?” Tav says as she turns her head around briefly, looking at the last light of the fire and wondering if anyone else was still up and about. “It’s… kind of embarrassing…” 

“Of course.” Halsin rises to his feet to hold the curtain of his tent open for her to enter ahead of him. She quickly ducks inside. 

Halsin gestures for her to sit on his makeshift mattress as he sits down on the stool at his desk littered with herbs and potions. 

“What’s ailing you? Your face seems flushed. Do you feel feverish at all?” Halsin says as he gets a better look at Tav, seated on his bedroll with their legs crossed, illuminated by the candlelight. 

Tav sighs. She looks down at her hands in her lap and wrings them uncomfortably. 

“Yes! I’m so warm!” Tav exclaims. “Okay so… I wanted to convince these squirrels to put on these little hats and ride on Scratch like a pony because I thought it would be cute, but I realized I was out of animal speech potions and I was trying to whip one up but I realized I used the wrong herb…. But Astarion said it would be fine! He gave the mushrooms to me after all!” 

Halsin chuckled. 

“A noble endeavor indeed. I would like to have seen that.” 

“And so the elixir looked fine, but I drank it and now I… I don’t feel so good…” Tav says quietly, but Halsin could hear the fear and worry in her voice. 

“Hmm… I see. Other than the flush and fever, do you have any other symptoms?” The druid asks, looking her over. 

“Well my skin, it has chicken-skin all over that won’t go away… and I can’t stop sweating… and well… there’s this painful ache…” She trails off. “Can I just show you?”

“Please do.” Halsin nods. 

Without warning, Tav strips her clothes off leaving her just in her underthings. She settles back on the bedroll and spreads her legs shyly. Once her knees were parted, it was very obvious to Halsin what the ache she was describing was. The gusset of her cloth panties showed a drenched patch covering her sex, the wet fabric sticking desperately to her meaty outer lips. 

“Aahh…” Halsin mused as he looked over Tav’s trembling body. “My assumptions were correct, it seems.”

“Your assumptions? And what were those, exactly? Speak plainly, will I survive?” Tav sits up on her elbows and presses her knees together again. 

“You must have used black mushrooms instead of acorn truffles. Similar in appearance, but very different in alchemical composition.” Halsin states as he flips through one of the books littering his desk. “I smelled your pheromones before you even appeared in front of my tent. Instead of the potion of animal speaking, you drank a potion of animal breeding.” 

“I bed your finest pardon? Shit, I mean beg! I beg your finest pardon?!” Tav becomes increasingly irritated and frustrated by the druid’s casual manner of speaking. 

“Yes, commonly used by ranch hands in order to increase the offspring output of their flocks, it drastically increases the heat cycle in mammals. I’ve never seen or heard of the effects of it on humans, but it seems it works the same.” Halsin replies, standing from the stool at his desk and approaching his bedroll where Tav laid. 

“So? Is there a cure, an antidote of some kind?” Tav pants. 

“Not that I know of. I know the effects subside once the animal has been mated, but I can’t say for certain how to dissolve the effects in a humanoid creature.” 

Tav groans and reaches her hand between her clenched thighs, clearly too far gone from the effects of the potion to care about modesty. Halsin sees her wrist flick desperately, but there was no relief on her face… he can’t help but find himself growing erect at the sight of her barely covered, sweaty body writhing in his bed. 

“You’re in pain… there might be a way I can help…” Halsin says softly, his eyes searching Tav’s pleading ones. 

“Anything. Help me, please.” Tav huffs out through gritted teeth. 

“I can… try to alleviate the pain through the intended means… If you’ll allow it.” Halsin’s eyes dart from Tav’s gaze to her hard nipples peaking through her bra and back to her face again. 

“You mean.. you’d fuck me? You think it would work?” 

“I can’t guarantee it, but I’m happy to give it a try.” Halsin replies with a soft smile. 

Tav thinks for a moment before sitting up fully and ripping her bra over her head and tossing it to the floor of Halsin’s tent. 

“Gods yes, I’ll do anything.” Tav shimmies her panties down her legs and throws them to join her discarded bra. “Do you need me to, you know… touch you a bit? To get things going?” She says sheepishly. 

“Hah, no..” Halsin chuckles. “Seeing you in my bed like this has made me harder than I’m keen to admit. Let me just…” 

Halsin takes a few moments to remove all his clothing. Once he was stripped bare, thick cock standing at attention, he turned back towards Tav and was met with quite the sight. 

Tav had shifted to her knees, face pressed into Halsin’s pillow with her ass arched high in the air in Halsin’s direction. He was met with her puffy, glistening folds being presented so desperately just for him. Slick drooled out like sap from a mighty maple tree, slowly seeping from Tav’s hole and coating her lips and thighs. He could see her engorged, pink clit peaking out from the apex of her slit, just aching to be touched. 

“Oak Father preserve me…” He says quietly, more to himself than anyone else. “What an incredible sight…” 

“Halsiiiinnnn…. Will you hurry uuuup?” Tav whined and wiggled her backside in the druid’s direction, beckoning him to enter her. 

“Right, of course. You will tell me if there’s any discomfort, yes?” He asks. 

“Yes fine yes, just fuck me.” Tav glares at him from her position pressed into the pillow. 

“As you wish…” Halsin takes his position behind Tav and guides the leaking tip of his cock to her entrance. “Bit of a stretch now, love…” Halsin coos as he pushes his hips into hers. 

“Aaaggh! Ah! Fuck!” Tav cries out and turns her head to bite down on his pillow. 

Halsin feels a gush of warmth on his pelvis and notices the hard squeeze of Tav’s cunt as his tip presses against her cervix deep within her. She had climaxed just from him bottoming out inside her. 

“Already?” Halsin chuckles again. “Do you feel better? Should I stop?” He runs a soothing hand down her spine. 

“Aahh!” Tav moans and pushes back on her knees, forcing him impossibly deeper. “More! Need more!” 

“The potion is stronger than I thought… very well… Hold on to something, dear.” Halsin warns as he wraps his large hands around Tav’s milky hips. He begins thrusting into her hard and with great purpose. Normally he would have to take time to prep his smaller partners, but the effects of the elixir had caused Tav’s body to accept his intrusion hungrily. “So warm… like nothing I’ve ever felt…” Halsin groans as he feels the impossible heat from Tav’s walls pulse around him sensually. 

“Harder! More!” Tav grits out, brow furrowed, fists clenched in Halsin’s sheets. 

Halsin mounts her fully, hunching his back over her to press his chest against her spine. His grip on her hips tightens as he humps into her harder. 

“Yes! Fuck! I-I’m cu-!“ Tav yelps out. “Ah!” 

Halsin feels her cunt clench on him hard again, the familiar spray of liquid a welcome feeling trickling down his thick thighs. After two orgasms, Halsin assumed she would finally be free of the potion’s effects. He pulls out of her and picks her shaking body up and positions her back down on his bed on her back. 

“Better now?” He smiles down at her. 

He was met with an even deeper look of desperation. 

“No. Need more!” Tav gasps out as she locks her arms behind his back. Without warning, Halsin was tossed on his back on the bed and Tav was hovering above him. She grips his dripping cock and lines it up to her sex, sinking down on it quickly. 

“Shiiiit yes…” Tav moans out and throws her head back in pleasure. She begins rocking hard against him, grinding her clit against his pelvis to stimulate all her senses. “Fuuuuck…”

“My darling…” Halsin says hesitantly as he places his gentle hands on her breasts, softly toying with her nipples. “Don’t hurt yourself…” 

“Fill me, Halsin, please!” She cries out loudly. “Breed me, Halsin. I need it!” She slams her hips down onto his impossibly fast. 

An animalistic, bear-like growl leaves Halsin’s lips. 

“You can’t say things like that, little dove.” He grits his teeth, trying to hold back from absolutely ravishing her body. 

“But please! I want you to fill me, need you to fill me! Put your fucking babies into me, Halsin, please!” Tav looks down finally and makes eye contact with the large elf. There was a wild, fiery heat glowing in her eyes. Who was he to deny her?

Halsin plants his feet on his bedroll and growls louder, his large hands moving to her waist. 

"Halsin, Halsin, Halsin!" Tav spills his name like an invocation as she bounces violently on his cock. "Breed me, please, Halsin!"

He uses this newfound leverage to slam his hips up into hers at a brutal pace, lost in the fantasy of filling her up with his seed. How gorgeous she would look swollen and heavy with his young… breasts plump with sweet milk...

“Yes! Yes!” Tav chants towards the sky as a cock-drunk grin spreads across her face. 

“I’ll give you what you need, love… stay still now… shit…” Halsin’s grip on Tav was sure to leave bruises in the morning. Tav was moaning loudly, clearly too far gone in her state to care about anyone else in camp hearing her. “I’m going to fill you now, be good and take it…” He grits out the last bit. 

Tav shrieks as she feels the first wave of hot spend fill her insides. Rope after rope of Halsin’s seed stuffed her to the brim, the druid grunting and panting beneath her, pushing her hips down on his so his tip kissed her cervix directly. 

Halsin breathes heavily as his orgasm abates and leaves Tav finally satisfied. 

“Woah…” Tav dizzily leans forward and collapses against Halsin’s broad chest. 

The pair laid in silence for several minutes catching their breaths. 

“Here, I’m going to lay you down now. I’ll make you some tea.” Halsin says as he lifts Tav off his softening cock and tucks her into his comforter. “Make sure you drink it before tomorrow.” 

“Mhmmmmph.” Tav snuggles tiredly into his mussed sheets, the effects of the potion finally dissipating now that she was stuffed full like a broodmare. She looked too serene in his bed, he couldn’t care less about the large mess she was no doubt leaking onto his mattress. 

So what if she didn’t drink the tea tonight… maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea…

Halsin would have to thank Astarion tomorrow. 

[peggyleeduh]

Random Thought:

When I go out on dates I love to teeter between risky and classy. This skirt and fishnet combo reminds me of something I wore on my first date with Mr. Wrong. He and I had been talking for a while when he finally asked me to dinner and of course I said yes . I had an idea of where we going but whatever reason I didn’t factor in steps when planning my outfit 🤦🏾‍♀️. I believe it was cold this day so I wore a black top ( small of course) and a red and black plaid pleated skirt fishnets and kneee high black boots and my long black coat. So he didn’t really see my outfit until we arrived at the restaurant. The hostess ask if we prefer to sit upstairs or downstairs and because I like to let man lead I let him answer, even though I’m praying like hell he picks downstairs because I know my skirt was short and of course I wouldn’t have on any pantys on this night. Of course he picks upstairs and I instantly start to panic but I’m trying to remain cool since I still have my coat . Well wouldn’t you know as I headed for the steps I hear him say “ let me take your coat for you “ when I say I froze for at least 10 seconds because I knew that was my last hope 😂. But I gather myself and allowed him to help me out of my coat and tried to let him lead the way up the stairs so that I could at least try to hold the back of my skirt down while I walked up the stairs . But of course him being the gentleman he motioned for me go first and I died on the inside because I knew this man was going to get an eye full. But I held my head up and walked my ass up the steps with him directly behind me and boy was I embarrassed . But he never said a word about it even though I knew he saw . We continued with dinner and everything was great. At the end of the night he asked if I would like to come to his place for a drink and i agreed and well… I’m going have to share that part of the story in another post since this one has gotten to long ✨

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

[vscabarca]

Idkk if your request are closed but if they aren’t could you do a fic of Pablo gavi were he loves your lip mask or lip gloss. He love the smell and taste and he gets whiny if you don’t let him kiss you when you have it on and sometimes uses it for him self, but you didn’t know and maybe one day you caught him using it!! 🩷🥹

strawberry kisses - pablo gavi

summary: pablo finally shoots his shot with his (best)friend

genre: fllluuufff

a/n: ITS BEEN SO LONG I‘M SO SORRY, also idk when i‘ll be back but here‘s a cute little story to make amends lmao

———

Pablo‘s eyes were glued on the girl in front of him, his gaze flickering from her eyes to her glossy lips.

Y/n casually applied her favorite scented lipgloss while the light breeze of the November evening messed up her straightened hair. Still, in Pablo‘s eyes she was absolutely beautiful.

Y/n’s face lit up at something Aurora must’ve said, and the sound of her laughter echoed through the dimly lit backyard.

The brunette footballer was completely enchanted by the girl. He had always been.

Pablo and Y/n knew each other now for a few years, their mothers became friends through work a long time ago.

Right now Y/n was visiting Pablo’s family in Barcelona, staying with them for a few days and going to Pablo’s game the next afternoon.

All these years of knowing each other consisted of platonic feelings from both sides until now - or that’s what they at least thought.

Pablo had been having a weird feeling in his stomach during the last few encounters with her. One, that normally appeared when he would see a cute girl walking by or when he had a (unsuccessful) talking stage.

The footballer just couldn’t take his eyes off of his friend. He found a liking in everything Y/n did. Pablo had always liked her, Y/n was easy to talk to, sympathetic and pretty. But lately these friendly feelings seemed to have turned into much more.

Pablo noticed how beautifully styled her hair was every day, how she always used the same vanilla scent and how the tiny strawberry gloss seemed to be always in her purse, ready to be applied.

His stomach fluttered every time Y/n smiled at him, just like now.

Aurora and his mother have gotten up, giving him a peck onto his cheek and disappearing inside the house.

Y/n waved him over, making Pablo realize that they were now alone.

„It seems like my mom loves you more than me.“ He joked, eliciting the sound of her laughter while Y/n simultaneously shook her head at his comment.

„You should have known that a long time ago, dummy.“ Y/n replied, looking Pablo in the eyes with a small smile.

The brunette grinned at her answer, feeling his cheeks flush with warmth, having to break the eye contact in embarrassment.

„Since when have you become so shy? Where are the usual ratty jokes?“ She continued teasing, not knowing Pablo’s heart was beating out of his chest.

„I‘ve matured.“ He simply stated, looking back at Y/n who was absentmindedly looking for her strawberry lipgloss.

„True, you’re all manly and buff.“ His eyes shot up to hers, looking if there was any sign of sarcasm or teasing. Oddly enough there wasn’t.

„You think so?“ Pablo carefully followed, watching Y/n apply the lipgloss ever so smoothly with a thick layer.

„Mhm.“ The girl simply nodded, but Pablo saw Y/n‘s cheeks turn deep red soon after.

„You look good too, it’s been a while.“

Y/n chuckled, a small smile covering her face as she avoided Pablo‘s gaze. The footballer became much more confident once he realized Y/n wouldn’t block away his comments, even complimenting him first.

With all the courage he had in that moment, he made Y/n‘s face turn towards him by placing two fingers under her chin. It felt like time stood still, their eyes meeting in the dark, both unsure what was about to happen.

Pablo finally couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her and took a last glance at her glossed lips before feeling them on his own.

With all doubts now washed away, they could both enjoy what they have been dreaming about these last few months.

Once they both broke apart, the two smiled nervously at each other before Y/n spoke up.

„By the way I could tell you wanted to kiss me, you never stopped staring at my lips.“ Y/n giggled, earning a little scoff from Pablo.

„I am indeed weirdly attracted to that strawberry gloss of yours.“ He smirked and leaned back in to kiss her a second time.

„Are you only attracted to the lipgloss or also attracted to me?“ Y/n sarcastically asked, slightly tilting her head to mess even more with Pablo.

„I am attracted to the lipgloss but madly in love with you, don’t worry.“ Pablo sealed his words with a third kiss, letting Y/n melt into his arms after his confession.

[megumimania]

EX FACTOR — gojo satoru

summary: don’t fuck your ex! (kidding) when a booking conflict forces you to room with gojo for the night, will your hatred of him last through the night or will you fall prey to his charms again?

warnings: smut (17+), afab reader, gojo is slight ooc but his slutty ways still remain, gojo and reader trying and failing to stand on business, exes to ???, they still love each other ya’l

ah paris, the city of love.

unfortunately the effects of the city fall flat on you as you’re stuck in a cramped car with a tinny voice in your ear belonging to the strongest sorcerer gojo satoru (aka your ex boyfriend). if shoko and utahime could see you right now they would be laughing their asses off.

initially this mission was supposed to be carried out by nanami and gojo but the night before they were scheduled to leave, nanami caught a “stomach bug.” this was unlike the formidable sorcerer who never ate anywhere that had a below 3 hygiene rating and he always made that fact known. so why would he eat at a low grade sushi restaurant, is a mystery to some.

the lack of readily available sorcerers at hand meant that you were left to accompany gojo on the mission. you were ready to drop everything at a hat for a trip to paris. aside from other neighbouring countries you never really ventured outside of asia and you were excited to explore paris and see what it had to offer

however what people forgot to conveniently mention,(or what you forgot to read) was that gojo would be coming onto the trip and by the time you found out it was too late to object, the paperwork was already signed.

he’s busy yapping away at poor ijichi who is trying to keep his eyes on the road as gojo eagerly shows him something on his phone that ijichi could honestly could care less about. you feel pity for the man, even though his pay is generous it could never be enough to deal with gojo’s antics 24/7.

“what picture should i post for thirst trap thursday?” he practically shoves the phone in your face as he swipes between the two photos. you’re about to curse out his entire bloodline for disturbing your peace but a pleading look from ijichi forces you to play nice.

the man has already been through hell and back from trying to keep you both from ripping each other’s throats out on this trip, so pretending to be amicable with your ex is the least that you could do for his sake. so you entertain gojo’s latest whim as he shows the first picture.

picture one is a classic thirst trap.

he’s fresh out of the shower, hair damp and his towel resting dangerously low on his hips, water droplets decorate his abs and the low light highlights his taut muscles. of course his face is out of the frame. it’s seductive, it’s alluring and it’s—

you’re getting ahead of yourself.

if gojo saw you staring he makes no gesture to acknowledge it.

you clear your throat hoping it’ll dispel the heat that subtly warms your cheeks. thankfully the windows are down as you zip through the busy parisian streets hearing tidbits of french as the wind whips at your skin. its honestly embarrassing how much he still has an effect on you months after the breakup but you couldn’t deny that he is a fine man, even though he looked a bit whorish in this picture.

“is that it?” you say coolly, trying not to seem too affected by the borderline r-rated pic. he pops some candy in his mouth as he passes his phone over to you with a wink.

you almost want to roll your eyes at his blatant attempt to try and rile you up but you are not the woman you were 5 minutes ago, you were not gonna stoop down to his level.

you were way better than that.

“you already know my password,” the way he’s so casual about it throws you off guard. you kinda expected him to be more cagey with something as high regarded as his phone. only god knows the amount of men and women who were in his dms right now, the mere thought of that sending a current of jealousy running through you.

picture two is less obscene but it’s still slutty as hell.

he’s dressed in the fuckboy classic: a plain white tee, grey sweat pants and a gold chain. he sure knows how to work the hell out of the outfit though. everything fits a little bit too well, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“well?” he stretches out the word, snapping you out of your reverie with a smug grin on his face that makes you forget all the reasons why you found him attractive in the first place. “whaddya think?”

“you look like a slutty jack frost,” you replied almost immediately, revelling in the way his smug grin was practically wiped off his face.

humbling him was your favourite past time. after all, knocking him down a few pegs was needed for everybody’s sake.

“why can’t you ever compliment me normally?” he groans snatching his phone from you. you’re more shocked he took your thinly veiled insult as a compliment but you ignore it for now.

gojo knew better than to ever ask you to compliment him normally, especially after the breakup where most of the words you would use now to describe him would probably get you a write up from the higher ups.

yet he still tried as if one day, the words that would spill from your lips about him would be one of admiration and not of hatred. for someone who was supposed to be the strongest and smartest man alive he was pretty naive and pretty fucking stupid sometimes.

“i refuse to feed your fat ego.” you crossed your arms as you looked at the blurring landscape in front of you, ignoring the way your traitorous heart was beating as his leg brushed yours. this was bridgerton levels of depravity that would put anthony bridgerton himself to shame.

god you seriously needed to get laid.

—

luckily curses weren’t as much of an issue in other countries compared to places like japan, so all you had to deal with was low grade curses lurking around touristy areas like the notre dame cathedral and the paris catacombs which made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

the day left you tired, sweaty and irritable. the toll of exorcising curses finally hitting you like bricks, making your muscles sore and achy. all you wanted was to take a nice hot bath and take a nap but of course nothing can ever go your way when gojo is around.

gojo accidentally booked one double room for the both of you and after several minutes of back and forth with the receptionist who made it clear in both english and french that she wouldn’t be able to make last minute adjustments, you had to settle with sharing a room with your ex.

you stalked over to the hotel room and made a beeline for the shower before gojo could open his mouth to make a witty remark.

desperately needing a minute to yourself before you dealt with the situation at hand, the hot shower helped melt away all the stress and tension of the day. a sigh of relief left your lips as you rolled your shoulders from side to side, feeling content and much more like yourself.

it is 11:30pm in paris and you still haven’t slept. you are too busy arguing with gojo about who is gonna sleep where.

“it’s fine, i’ll just sleep on the couch,” you grabbed the pillows off the bed and walked over to the couch before gojo grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him.

“c’mon, you know that if you sleep on the couch that you’ll complain in the morning about how bad your back is!” gojo interjected, still holding your arm but now in an awkward hold once he realised what he was doing. the brief moment of contact sent shivers down your spine.

“and before you start with your line of argument, just remember okinawa 2016.” he smiled knowingly, watching your face twitch at the mention of that godforsaken vacation-turned-mission you took together.

the trauma of that year was permanently etched into your skin. if it wasn’t already marked by the scar , it was marked by the psychological effects of the vacation that still crept up on you.

“fine, you win.” you huffed, releasing yourself from his hold getting into bed with him. it was honestly too late to argue and from what it sounded like you were the only two people on your floor who were still up. plus you didn’t want to unleash hell on poor i

—

the pillow wall between you both could only do so much as gojo’s limbs found their way to yours, as if it was muscle memory. they had you trapped in a deadlock—his arms snug around your waist and his head buried into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes tickling your skin.

the heat was unbearable making sleep practically impossible for you, the constant tossing and turning, dampening any chance of you getting a good night’s rest before your early flight in the morning.

“can’t sleep?” his voice rasped, still heavy with fatigue. maybe it was the sleep deprivation or the way his breath tickled your neck, that made him all the more appealing to you right now.

“nope.” you hummed in response not wanting your mind to focus on how close he was to you. how your bodies were practically flush against each other, how you could feel the faint sounds of his heart beat.

his touch strayed for a second, his fingers beginning to trace circles on your waist. a light innocent touch that was supposed to be soothing, stirred a current of desire you fought to keep at bay. knowing that if you relented for one second that the hatred you held for him would dissipate without second thought.

that’s why this whole thing was a stupid idea, letting him take you on an impromptu tour of paris, agreeing to share a room let alone a bed with him in the dead of night.

how could you claim to hate your ex when you had no qualms about being in his presence for so long? god you were full of utter shit but it didn’t bother you, at least you tried (and failed) to stand on business, not many people could say that.

gojo knew what he was doing his wandering hands trailing down from your arm to the dangerously skimming the waistband of your panties, each touch would send a shiver down your spine and part of you wished that he’d quit being a tease and give you what you wanted but you knew that was part of his charm.

his touch was almost exhilarating, leaving goosebumps in its wake. it was almost embarrassing how he barely touched you and you were already a wreck. “such a needy girl f’me, aren’t ya?” he mused, revelling at how wet you already were from his mere teasing.

all rebuttals were squashed when he attached his lips to your sweet cunt, throwing the duvet off of you, leaving you exposed in the moonlight. the sudden dip in temperature making your nipples harden, you call out for his name several times whilst he ravishes you without hesitation, even having the cheek to spell his name with his tongue.

“fuckkk right there.” you pant out, grabbing fistfuls of his hair to which he lets out a low growl at the sensation, slurping up all of your juices with a fervour that was almost primal, animalistic to say the least. your orgasm crashes over you like a freight train leaving you heady and slightly dizzy.

he looks up from where he is, hair tousled and his signature cerulean blues taking on a more darker hue as he reaches up to kiss you, his lips and cheeks stained with the glossy sheen of your release. his hand tweaks your nipples earning an impromptu moan from you that he swallows up as he deepens the kiss, rutting his hips into your thigh.

it was no surprise that he was already hard, he often joked that eating you out was his favourite past time besides going out to eat at his favourite sweet shops, which made you question if he had an oral fixation. to which he replied if it

gojo pulls down his boxers, his cock springing up against his washboard abs, the sight alone is enough to make you drool. you forget how pretty his dick was, his mushroom red tip that was leaking with precum to the prominent veins that ran on the underside of his cock.

“open your mouth f’me.” he asks and you oblige his request as he stuffs your mouth with his cock. the warm velvety confines of your mouth is enough to make him cum already but he holds out, not wanting to ruin the fun just yet. “missed that pretty mouth of yours, taking me so well.” he groans, holding your head as he fucks your mouth, the sound of you gagging on him is enough to make him lose control.

whilst gojo loved to brag how he found better, truth was that nobody could compare to you—hell even elicit the same sounds he was making when he was with you. sure his hookups and short lived relationships were enjoyable they lacked the electricity that passion he was searching for, the one that came naturally to the both of you when you were together.

“fuck princess you’re killin’ me over here.” he heaves before pulling out of your mouth entirely letting the tip of his dick rest pretty against your lips. you whine at the loss of contact but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, teasing your entrance.

“quit being such a tease.” you said annoyedly, before the air was knocked out of your lungs as he fully enters you in one fell swoop, your jaw slackens as you try to accomodate his size. he tuts, giving you a look of mock disappointment. “my, my, didn’t they teach you that patience is a virtue?”

he grins placing a kiss on your shoulder as he began to move in and out of you slowly, drinking up all your whines and moans as he picked up the pace, his hips driving into yours at a brutal pace. your tits jiggling with every sharp thrust, your hands find his way to his back to steady yourself.

“shit ‘toru, mmph!” his hand clamps over your mouth watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fucks you senseless, bullying your pretty little cunt. “shh, you gotta be quiet princess, ijichi is a couple doors down and you’re not doing a good job at hating my guts right now.” he says with a smirk.

in the midst of all this passion you forgot that you weren’t the only people on this floor, you knew that you and gojo were gonna be public enemy number one by the morning.

strands of his hair is stuck to his forehead as he thrusts gets more sloppy, his hips stuttering as your cunt milks him dry. god he’s missed this, missed you and your pussy that was truly made for him. at this point he has devolved into common man, becoming more pussy drunk as he tries to delay his orgasm so he can see you cum again.

“you gonna give me what i want?” his voice sounding less demanding and more desperate, his hands snaking down to your clit to coax one more orgasm out of you whilst trailing kisses down your neck. the sensation is dizzying: his presence, his words, his touch—all leading to your undoing as one last orgasm rips through you, leaving you spent.

his orgasm follows shortly after yours, collapsing on top of you with a sigh. the two of you stay like that for a while, not wanting to ruin the post coital haze with discussions of what this meant for you both going forward.

so you dont.

but ijichi does take note of the sudden change in atmosphere in the car on the way back to the airport. it’s more quiet, less bickering and shenanigans. gojo is less annoying, hell he’s even asleep!

he knew something did happen in the last night, it wasn’t like you two kept it discreet by any means but when he catches a glimpse of your hands interlinked together it all makes sense.

[janeyseymour]

I Hate You, I Love You- part 2

Part 1.

Summary: You swallow your pride and ask Melissa to do you the favor of a lifetime.

WC: ~2.5k

Monday morning comes all too soon for you. Today is the day that you have to swallow all of your pride and your hatred for the redheaded woman and all but beg her to pretend to be your faux girlfriend for the holidays.

You’re sitting at your desk trying to grade the last few spelling tests you skipped out on over the weekend when you hear her make her way in, keys jingling and boots clanking against the tile loudly. God- you do not want to do this. But it’s now, or it’s in the staff lounge with everybody watching and listening in. So, you stand from your desk, run your fingers through your hair nervously, and make your way over to her door.

Her back is turned to you, she’s leaning over to put her bags on the ground, and… damn. Her figure is insane. You take a few silent moments to appreciate it without her being aware that you’re there. Quietly, you knock on her doorframe and lean against it, arms crossed over your chest. Are you pushing your breasts up just the slightest bit? Maybe. If you have to swallow your pride and nearly die of embarrassment, you might as well look hot doing it.

She turns just her top half, still leaning over, and you have the perfect view of her… Shit. Stop looking. 

“What could you possibly need right now?” She huffs out. “It’s freakin’ Monday at 7:30.”

You harden at the greeting she’s given you. “Trust me,” you roll your eyes. “I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do. But, I got to talk to you. Alone.”

“Oh?” The redhead raises her brow and sits in her seat before looking at you confused. “Come to finally tell me that you’re-”

“I need a favor,” you sigh. “Like, a really big one.”

“I can’t get you outta a ticket,” Melissa snorts. “You know that.”

“I don’t need that. I need… I need you to…” Just fucking say it. “I need you to pretend to my girlfriend over the holidays.”

Her jaw drops. It’s clear that’s not what she was expecting you to say in the slightest. “What?”

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend over the holidays, and before you shoot me down, at least let me give you the sob story and think about it. Please?”

She begins howling with laughter. “Sure, let’s hear it.”

You explain what had happened on Saturday, and you hate the way that she’s getting such pleasure out of your misfortune. “And they all mentioned something about it yesterday as I was leaving too, so I know I can’t get out of embarrassment either way- having you there somehow seems like the better option.”

“Why’d you say my name?” your colleague asks, and it’s clear she genuinely wants to know. But then she gives you that ridiculous smirk again. “Is it because you know I’m the hottest person you could think of?”

“Please,” you snort. “I was going through the list of single people I knew in my head, and I knew I couldn’t say someone that my mom already knew… unfortunately, your name came out of my mouth before I could stop it. And now they know what you look like, so it’s not like I can ask anyone else to pretend to be you. But you wish I thought you were hot.”

That’s a bluff. You think she’s hot as hell, but she can’t know that. And what you don’t know is that Melissa wishes you didn’t hate her the way that you do, and she wishes that she didn’t have to pretend to hate you to get your attention. 

“What’s in it for me?” she chooses to ask.

You roll your eyes. “My mom’s cooking, and you get out of having to deal with Kristen Marie on Christmas.”

“And…?”

“A hundred bucks.”

“A hundred bucks a day.”

“No way.”

“How many days are we talkin’?”

“Probably the weekend,” you sigh. “That’s three hundred bucks and an hour car ride there and back; usually stay with them during the holidays so I don’t have to drive back and forth, and if I don’t, they’ll know something’s up.”

“Three hundred bucks,” Melissa states again. She knows she won’t take your money, but she wants to see how desperate you are.

You groan. “Fine.”

“And then what are you gonna tell them after?”

“That we broke up,” you tell her as if it’s obvious. “Trust me. This is just going to be a weekend thing, and then I’ll only have to talk to you at work.”

“Fine. Don’t go fallin’ in love with me, babe,” the redhead winks at you.

You absolutely despise the way that the red creeps into your cheeks. “Don’t worry. That’s the last thing I’ll be doing.”

As the holiday season approaches, your mother continues to pester you about bringing your ‘girlfriend’ around before the actual holiday. Luckily, you can use the excuse that you are extremely busy with your students, as is Melissa. It’s not a lie- you feel like you’re drowning this year. You know your colleague isn’t fairing much better with her students.

But the Friday before winter break starts, exactly a week before you have to make your way back to your parents house, you step into Melissa’s room again early in the morning.

“Come over tonight. We need to figure out all of the details of our relationship so we don’t flop in front of my family next week,” you tell the redhead.

Melissa shakes her head though. “You come to me. Ain’t no way I’m goin’ to your place and eating takeout when I can just make us dinner.”

“Fine.”

“Six. Bring wine.”

After a long day of school with children all too eager to be done for the week, they’re sent home, and you’re able to leave the school for the weekend. You’re looking forward to the last few days of teaching before the break and then Christmas break itself… until you remember that you have to spend Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the day after with Melissa. God, this is going to suck.

Still, you’re caught in your web of lies, and you know you can’t back out now- not this late in the game. So, at six o’clock, you’re on Melissa’s front stoop, knocking with a few bottles of wine in hand.

When the redhead opens the door, you hate yourself for ogling her. She’s standing there in a tank top and sweatpants, hair knotted up in a messy bun, and covered in flour. “Jesus. I said a bottle, not three.”

“Well, I didn’t know what you liked, and we’re gonna have to be drunk to make this work,” you shrug.

“Red,” is all she says as she steps out of the way to let you in. “Don’t forget that for when you’re getting me wine at your parents.”

You make a mental note of that, and then you make your way in. “I hate you.”

“I know,” is all Melissa responds with. “But it wasn’t me who said we were dating, now was it?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” Green eyes bore into your own for a few seconds, clearly challenging you.

You just set your things down on her counter with a scowl. 

As much as you hate to say it, her cooking is delightful. The wine pairs well with the food. And you aren’t complaining about the view. Melissa looks… she’s hot as fucking hell, and you’ve caught yourself staring at her rack quite a few times during dinner.

You insist on cleaning up dinner, and she fights you on it. There’s something about it that makes you feel a certain way. It’s almost like you love to hate her.

Before you know it, the two of you are settled on the couch, each with yet another glass on wine in hand, and you’re attempting to hash out your fake love story.

“I told them we’ve been dating for a while,” you sigh. “So… I’m thinking four months? Long enough for you to show up to Christmas, but short enough for them to not know about you.”

“Sure,” she agrees without much of a fight. “I’m assuming we just met through work?”

“I figure the more truthful this lie is, the easier it’ll be to keep up with,” you shrug.

Melissa nods along. “That’s a good plan.”

“The other thing is…” you rub your collarbone nervously. “When I’m in a relationship, I tend to be quite touchy, so we have to- we have to do that.”

The redhead shrugs. “Whatever we have to do in order for me to get my three hundred bucks.”

You spend another two hours learning about each other, drinking wine as you go. She’s learned about your parents, your aunts and uncles, where you went to college, what your favorite color is, what kind of wines and cocktails you prefer, the foods that will be at dinners that you won’t go near, what you like to do in your free time… and in turn, you’ve heard all about her enormous family, how long she’s been at Abbott, how she loves to crochet but never knit, the fact that she has a guitar in her classroom that she doesn’t know how to play other than basic chords, among other things. The two of you agree that Melissa was the one to make the move on you after a happy hour with the work crew. You were the first one to say ‘I love you’, and those at school aren’t aware of the budding relationship between the two of you.

It’s a revealing night, and you find yourself not wanting to beat the shit out of the woman next to you. You would almost venture to say that you’re enjoying you’re time with her- almost. 

It’s fairly safe to say when you’re finished going over family trees, your back story, and basic information about each other that you’re both wine drunk. You’ve gone through two bottles, and you’re halfway through the third.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think I’m lettin’ you drive home like this,” your coworker laughs as she watches you attempt to gather your things. “Just stay the night.”

“Like hell I’m doin’ that.”

“You’re gonna have to spend a weekend with me sharing the same bed, in your parents’ house. Get over yourself,” Melissa tells you. “Seriously. Just stay- I got a spare bedroom you can use.”

“Fine.”

The next morning, she’s awake before you and somehow not hungover the way that you are. Melissa’s already left the house actually. She left you a note to make you aware of that.

Had to run out to do some grocery shopping. Don’t miss me too much. She finishes the note with a winking face, and she signs it ‘Mel’.

You roll your eyes, but you pick up the pen before scrawling out, Thanks for letting me stay the night. And then just to fuck with her, you scribble down an ‘xo’. And then you head back to your own apartment, entirely forgetting that you’re still clad in her sweatpants and About shirt.

With a heavy sigh, you shoot her a text. I left, but I forgot I’m wearing your stuff.

Just keep it for now. Bring it when we go to your parents’ house so it looks like you’ve had it for a while.

I hate to say it, but good idea.

I’m full of good ideas, babe.

You spend most of your Saturday nursing a hangover, Sunday is spent preparing things for the final few days of school before Christmas break. With Christmas Eve being on a Friday and Christmas being on a Saturday, that means you have up until Wednesday with your kids. Wednesday is the class holiday party, and you would prefer to have everything set and ready for you to just throw in the trunk of your car come the day of the celebration before you send the kids off.

Then, once your kids are sent off to their parents high on sugar and eager for the break from learning, you’re stuck with the knowledge that you have to spend some of your own retreat with the woman that you love to hate.

“I think we should have dinner again,” Melissa knocks on your door as you’re gathering your belongings. “Come over, I’ll make dinner, and we can go through our story again.”

“I’m bringing the wine?”

Your coworker smirks. “Yeah.”

This dinner ends the exact same way that your last dinner with the redhead did. You’re asleep in Melissa’s guest room dressed in a pair of her sweatpants and an old Abbott tee-shirt.

When you wake up this time around though, Melissa isn’t out. She’s actually downstairs sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.

“The newspaper? Are you serious?” you tease her.

Your colleague just rolls her eyes. “I like having the fine print- reminds me of when my dad used to read it.”

“Well, lucky for you, my parents still get the paper delivered every morning,” you chuckle. “I don’t know how, but they manage it.”

Melissa purses her lips and sips her coffee. “Good to know.”

You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly before sighing. “Well, I’m gonna head out, but I’ll pick you up Friday at ten? My mom likes when I come over early so I can help her set everything up.”

The redhead just nods.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night again,” you say quietly before you grab your bag and leave.

Thursday, you spend most of the day regretting your decision of lying to your parents and aunt and somehow convincing the Melissa Schemmenti to play into your lie. Most of Thursday night is you lying awake and stressing. When you do finally fall asleep, you’re plagued with stress dreams about how this could all go terribly wrong.

All too soon does your alarm go off, you’re hauling your suitcase into the car, and then you’re making your way to Melissa’s house to pick her up.

She’s ready relatively quickly and jumping into your passenger seat in an awfully good mood for someone who has to pretend to be in love with you.

The drive is quiet, and you thank God for that. But then, you’re pulling into your parents’ driveway, and your nerves start to get the best of you. You feel your palms sweating as you don’t loosen your grip on the steering wheel. 

Melissa looks to you with her brows furrowed. “Hey.”

“What?” you grit out.

“If you don’t fuck this up, I won’t.” And then she’s out of your car and grabbing both of your bags before she makes her way over to your door and opens it for you.

You raise a brow.

“Your mom is already standing at the front door waiting for us to come in,” she whispers to you. And then for good measure, she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “C’mon.”

You tangle your hand with her free one, and then you’re making your way up to the door. You can only pray Melissa isn’t disgusted with your sweaty palms.

You don’t even have to knock before your mother whips open the door, Aunt Jo right behind her, with a grin on her face.

Here goes nothing. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch

[roxineedstosleep]

Sooo... some ideas that happend to appear in my mind.

But, let's make the situation a bit more ridiculousand angst. Bc, Damian is, after all, the reason why the batfam members start to notice you.

More over, after some no so nice situations that Damian put you through.

-----

Damian, who by now is starting to sound like the Shepherd Boy Who Cried Wolf, starts to become completely annoying not only to you - who in all the mess of construction and petty adventures never causes anyone any harm - but to all the adults in the family.

Dick got tired of listening to Damian - especially when he interrupted one of the arrests he was making at the time - after he threw a tantrum when he found you sitting on the couch trying to dress Titus.

According to Damian, you had created an international dog and pet clothing brand of such gamma that the debut and closing of your canine fashion company had happened in the living room of the mansion. I mean, yes, you really had created a pet clothing brand, and the international debput definitely happened in the mansion… only nothing was there anymore because one of the guests - a very nice Arab heir, it should be noted - decided that the brand would be the perfect gift for his fashion designer wife. So he took it all away at that moment.

Only some garments had been left behind and you had thought it would be a waste that no one would wear them. That's how Damian and Dick found you, trying to make a dog sweater fit Titus, Alfred the Cat was wearing a tutu.

Dick clearly had to put a stop to it after Damian to tear Titus' new sweater in his eagerness to show the tag.

Bruce had to get involved, and nearly fainted when he noticed the price - per the shop's website - of the sweater and tutu. The only good thing, at least he reckons, was that the garments were fail demos of the originals, so they had come at a good price. Clearly, he and Bruce don't know how a box from the official shop later arrived at the mansion - they don't believe Damian's story about how he heard you calling the owner about the incident and how they would send you new sweaters - and he didn't want to know how. But Bruce didn't hesitate to chastise Damian for interrupting Dick.

He just hoped that these silly accusations would end and not escalate any further.

Or at least that's what he thought until what happened with Tim.

--

And Tim, was not happy about it.

The two brothers, per se, don't usually have more problems than they already have in missions. But even Tim began to find Damian's childish hyper-fixations tedious.

I mean, he knows what his brother has been through, and no doubt a part of him is glad to know that at least he's getting something normal out of childish behaviour with these imaginative accusations… but even he knows that the last thing he accused you of was a bit out of line.

Not long ago you had managed - he's a little embarrassed to admit he had no idea how or with what money, and he won't listen to Damian with the ridiculous idea that it was with the money from the check that Arab millionaire gave you - to get yourself a small shaved ice cream machine.

So, at least from what Alfred once or twice mentioned about the increase in fruit-flavoured caramel on your shopping list, you've been making shaved ice for a few weeks now. It seems that was enough for Damian to drag him out of bed - after he'd been on a 15-day mission with almost no sleep or coffe- and drag him all over the mansion, with the silly excuse that you'd created an ice amusement park for the penguins at the Zoo.

When they both arrived in the courtyard of the mansion, they only saw you eating some ice together with some classmates from your school. Your eyes were red from crying and the machine was broken no so far from you and your friend were sitting.

You were sitting down, as if you had had a little polar-themed picnic - because of the white pillows and the blanket that prevented them from touching the grass - along with some penguin stuffed animals of yours and some shaved ice around them. That's not to mention lots of games, like Dick's old trampoline and Ace's forgotten slide next to the ball pit.

Unfortunately, from what your classmate mentioned to him when he asked about your broken shaving machine, you were in the middle of a ‘penguin ice party’ with more of your classmates when Damian arrived it. That apparently made all the guests leave because of the fuss that his little brother made. No affter he run to find him to bring him there.

Which, it wasn't all bullshit. Your little machine made too much ice, which prompted a friend from school to call an acquaintance who brought the penguins from the Zoo - because their freezer in their habitat was broken and would take a couple of hours to fix - and the whole place filled up with classmates, penguins and ice. Damian saw the whole mess and ran so fast that he accidentaly pulled the cable that was connecting the machine, breaking your machine in the process. Not only was the party cut short, but the Zoo had already settled their business and taken the penguins back to their place.

And that's how Tim found you.

Crying next to your friend, who tried to comfort you by giving you one of the last shaved ice cones. While all your blankets adn penguin stuffed animals were getting ruined or wet from all the ice that had started to melt.

It is worth noting that even Dick - after hearing the story from him- found that accusation towards you rather distasteful. And Bruce had to replace the machine with a new one; though even Tim felt sorry for you, since after that incident you donated it to Gotham Zoo.

Even though, he was kind of surprised to later found out that your donation brings you the Gothams Zoo's appretiation. Since later on, you arrived with some new penguins stuffies and theme blankets.

... on a more light-hearted note, imagine a phineas and ferb scenario except neglected! reader is the gifted child that is overlooked by platonic! batfamily, building all sorts of insane contraptions mysteriously disappear for unknown reasons and damian is the only one in the family seeing this shit happen, slowly losing his mind trying to bust his sibling to bruce or his siblings (etc.) only to find that giant robot/waterpark/space rollecoaster is no longer there. once again he looks like a resentful brother trying to incriminate his only blood sibling, whom he seems to have a vendetta against.

i mean, can you blame them? you're just sorta there. just doing your own thing, going to school, hanging out with friends, keeping to yourself. it's embarrassing to admit, but they often forget you live at the manor. you're one of the teenagers to exist. so when damian comes running to dick, saying "look! look! i finally busted them. the cameras caught-" only for the magically corrupted footage to show him 3 minutes of you hanging out under a tree, cut, hanging out under a tree again, let's say dick is... confused.

or when he removed jason from a mission, guiding him at full speed back to the manor, where you were home alone and working on a weather-changing machine because you wanted to have winter snow during summer, except they arrive to find you eating cereal on the kitchen counter. no machine to be seen.

eventually they just dismiss it as damian being petty and acting his age for once. it's the whole being bruce wayne's only blood child and heir to the wayne legacy that you kinda got in the middle of by existing and stuff, they're sure. i mean, you? doing all that? the very idea is so absurd it doesn't even trigger their suspicions. you're the civilian among civilians, every time they look your way you're doing homework or watching funny orange cat compilation videos on youtube.

whether damian's failures to expose you are absurdly coincidental or you just know how to avoid the batfamily's watchful eye is up for debate. well, it's for the best, either way. there’s a 104 days of summer vacation and you're basking in being left alone by the family, and bruce would be livid if he found out about the things you've been doing behind his back, so...

just... hope they don't find out, okay?

[zaldritzosrose]

Run, Rabbit, Run (Michael x Reader x Martin)

Summary: Best friends since childhood, Michael and Martin did everything together. But no one expected that to include their romantic relationships. Michael had you first, but he couldn't deny the chemistry between you and Martin. So what happens when two friends, their girlfriend and a spooky fantasy all come together?

CW: MINORS DNI, afab reader, she/her pronouns, modern au (around 2000s ish), mentions of alcohol, polyamory (sharing is caring), profanity, innuendo, mask kink (reader's fantasy), threesome (mutual participation from all parties), minor primal play (fantasy about being chased), oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex, fingering.

Words: 5685

No beta...let chaos ensue!

You had met Michael first. He attended university with you and if someone had said you two would end up dating, you both would have laughed.

When you first met him, he thought you were, for want of a better word, stupid. Your outside gave the impression of an airhead, a princess who spent her daddy’s money. Michael had questioned how you got into Oxford in the first place.

He studied Mathematics, unsurprisingly when you found out. You studied English Literature. He wasn’t shy of telling you how pointless he found such a course, but you ignored him.

Somehow, the annoyed sighs in the library had turned into longing looks – more so from Michael than you to begin with. He couldn’t remember when he first started to think you were pretty. But all of a sudden, he found himself staring at you instead of his textbook.

Then, the one day you came to talk to him. Out of the blue. You had been looking for a book that just so happened to be on the shelf behind him. You were being polite when you said ‘Hello’ to him.

But Michael could have melted right there and then. The cute little jumper and skirt you had on. Reaching up to grab your book. The hem of your skirt rising just that little bit. He shouldn’t have looked; he knew he shouldn’t. But you looked like a dream.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Fast forward a few months and you were studying at the same table as him. Mutually studying your subjects in a comfortable silence. Study sessions turned to walks in the courtyard just chatting. Walks turned trips to the pub.

Soon, there wasn’t much time you weren’t at Michael’s side. Meeting after classes, eating lunch together. But he never worked up the courage to admit his feelings.

Until his best friend got involved.

Martin was his opposite in almost every way. They had been friends for as long as they could remember, but it was a friendship no one expected to last. Michael was logical, introverted most of the time, direct with how he spoke. Martin was a little more ‘act without thinking’, he worked on instinct.

So, when he found out about Michael’s crush on you? He was almost pushing him to ask you out. Telling Michael how it was obvious you liked him back. But when Michael chickened out…

Martin, being the good friend, took it into his own hands. Grabbing Michael’s phone and sending the message himself.

Michael could have dropped dead from embarrassment he was sure. But you replied…saying yes.

Next thing he knew, you were his girlfriend.

And a couple of months down the line, you met Martin. Michael knew the look. Martin thought with his cock. And he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. He could tell you noticed, blushing when Martin came close or made some thinly veiled innuendo.

It was only when you’d gone back to campus that Martin broached the idea of a more…unconventional relationship.

Michael had been surprised to say the least. Of course, he knew Martin would want you. You were a goddess, and he was a sucker for a pretty face. But was he really asking to date you as well as Michael?

But, with a push, Michael asked you. He hadn’t expected your answer.

Yes.

That was all you had answered. Michael realised, to his surprise, he was okay with it. Martin, despite how annoying a friend he could be, was a good guy. And he could probably give you things Michael couldn’t.

That was a year ago. Now, you were firmly settled into your life as a girl with two boyfriends. Your relationship with both was wildly different and yet comfortable.

Martin was a lot more forthcoming with the physical side of your relationship. It was no surprise that you had taken the bigger physical steps with him first. Michael was okay with that; he’d always assure you. He wasn’t as confident there as Martin was.

But Michael gave you things Martin didn’t. He liked the softer, sweeter side of your romance. Taking you on dates, cuddling and watching a movie.

There was a balance that just seemed to work.

Not that Martin wouldn’t take you out or Michael wouldn’t fuck you.

They were different, and that was perfect for you.

You were in class until the afternoon when Martin came over. It wasn’t often that he visited the university just to see Michael anymore, but it happened.

“When is she due home?” Martin asked, lounging on your bed whilst Michael studied.

You had been lucky with your room on campus. The halls you stayed in were quiet, not all the rooms filled. It was more of a spill over accommodation for anyone left over when the other halls filled.

Luckily, you were only a short walk from Michael’s halls. But you had long since given both boys a key to your room.

“Couple of hours, she said she’d text me when she left her last class.” Michael answered, not even glancing up from his notes.

Martin sighed. Two hours was a long time when he was the only one without something to do, considering Michael had his own class to study for.

To keep himself busy, Martin began wandering around your room. There were few things you hid from your boys, but the top drawer of your bedside table had always remained locked the entire time they had both known you.

Both boys had asked you what you kept in there, but you had never answered.

Being unoccupied brought the thought back to Martin’s mind.

“Did she ever tell you what was in here?” he asked, knuckle tapping the wood of the bedside table.

Michael shrugged, “Nope, I asked a couple of times and got nothing. So, I stopped asking.”

Martin frowned. Now the thought was in his head, he had to know.

Michael was deep in his textbook when he heard a rattle and then a scrape of wood against wood.

“What are you doing!” he snapped, spinning in his chair to see Martin pulling said locked drawer open.

“She’ll fucking kill you, you moron!”

Martin just laughed. He knew you’d never stay angry at him. He had enough tricks to make you forget whatever he’d done.

“Oh, come on, like you don’t wanna know what’s in here?”

Michael didn’t want to admit it, but Martin had a point. Who locked a bedside drawer? He wandered over to inspect the contents.

“Fine, but if she gets mad I’m blaming you.”

Martin pulled the drawer out fully, sitting it on your bed for a full inspection. Michael’s studying was long abandoned. Curiosity ate at him just like anyone else.

The contents looked relatively…boring. A few polaroid pictures of friends and family, a book and a little box which Martin eagerly found out contained your vibrator.

“Ooohh, our little bunny has a friend…” he chuckled but slid the toy back into the box.

Michael simply shook his head. His eyes remained trained on the book. Why would you lock a book away?

Without thinking, he pulled it out and began to flick through the pages. It took him longer than he’d care to admit figuring out the truth of what it was.

Your journal.

“Holy shit…” Michael muttered, just loud enough to draw Martin’s attention.

The brunette hovered over Michael’s shoulder as he read. Page after page of your inner most thoughts. About your course, your friends, your favourite movies and shows, even them – they lingered on those pages longer than others.

But some lines in particular caught Martin’s eye.

“…there’s just something about it that gets me so..hot. The idea of someone wanting you so bad, even if it’s in some dark and twisted way, that they’ll never stop chasing you.”

That wouldn’t have been unusual on it’s own. He’d seen the way you stared at the screen when ‘darker’ romances played out. No, it was the following line that got him.

“What is it about a mask though? Me and the girls were talking about it at lunch. Ghostface shouldn’t be as sexy as he is…he kills people. Michael Myers was brought up after that. That walk. It’s something else…”

Martin wasn’t usually surprised like that. There were few things he’d not tried in bed in his lifetime. But this…

This was something.

“You read it too?” Michael asked, seeing how Martin remained fixated on that page.

He only nodded in response, but Michael was sure he could hear the cogs turning in his head.

“Our girl has a mask kink, who knew.” Martin said finally, and it was like putting it into words made his mind click.

He grabbed the book from Michael’s hand, snapping it shut and placing everything back in the drawer. But Michael saw the look in his eye.

“I know that look.”

Martin smirked back, a plan almost fully formed in his mind.

“We have the Halloween party this weekend, right?”

Michael nodded, all of you had been invited to the annual Oxford Halloween party. Well, you had been and then refused to go without your boyfriends. And a Halloween party was the perfect place to act out your fantasies.

“What do you say to indulging our sweetheart?”

The boys left you a little note, about how they had gone into town to get their costumes for the party. Your costume had been bought weeks ago, excitement taking over. But the boys had been dragging their feet, despite your protests.

Lucky for them, you weren’t suspicious at all. Everything in your room had been left just as they had found it.

The night of the party rolled around. The whole university was thrumming in anticipation. Oxford parties went all out. Halloween, Christmas, New Year’s. Even Valentine’s Day sometimes. They were nothing short of an extravaganza.

You had your outfit all sorted, and it was so perfectly you. The tight, black dress laced down your back and showing off every dip and curve of your body. The ears topped it off though.

Your boys called you ‘bunny’, because apparently you were just as soft and cute as one. You liked it. It was different from usual pet names; it made you feel special. Martin especially loved whispering into your ear as you moaned beneath him.

You twirled in front of the mirror. The boys, surprisingly, had told you they’d meet you there. It was unlike them, but it also meant you had a full, distraction free two hours to get yourself ready.

The boys’ trip into town had been fruitful, easily finding what they wanted.

“Why do you get to be Ghostface?” Michael asked, looking at the navy boiler suit and Michael Myers mask on his bed.

Martin just rolled his eyes.

“You have the walk better than I do.”

It was mostly true. Martin couldn’t really explain it, he just knew that this way worked best. He had kitted himself out with a more ‘practical’ version of a Ghostface costume. Gone was the long, tattered black robe. In was a black long-sleeved tee, black jeans and a long black coat.

Practicality…for what they had planned anyway…was a little more important than accuracy.

The boys arrived before you. Michael constantly checking his phone to see if you had text to say you’d arrived. Martin looked relaxed as ever, he’d planned everything out and all that needed to happen now was for you to appear.

“She’s here!” Michael suddenly called out, all but jumping from his seat in excitement.

It was a nervous excitement that thrummed in his veins. Knowing they were going to act out one of your fantasies had him buzzing with excitement. Knowing they’d found out about said fantasy without your knowledge had him wallowing in a mix of guilt and nerves.

Your costume had been kept a surprise as much as theirs. And both of them audibly groaned when they saw you.

“What a sexy little rabbit..” Martin mumbled and Michael was already squirming a little, hand slipping down to adjust the growing tent in his boiler suit.

You almost bounced over, the bunny ears on your head flopping as you moved through the crowd. Always excited to see your boys.

“Happy Halloween!” you giggled, spinning around as you got to them and shaking the little puffball tail attached to your dress.

Michael simply choked on air. Even after a year, he was barely functional whenever you were the least bit flirty.

Martin handed you a drink, flicking the tip of one of your ears.

“You make a very pretty bunny,” he smiled, earning him a kiss before you leaned down and offered the same to Michael.

You hadn’t noticed their costumes yet, considering they were both maskless to drink and eat.

“So, what have you two come as?”

The smirk on Martin’s face and the nervous smile on Michael’s should have clued you in that something was up. But they had banked on your adorable obliviousness to keep their game going until the right time.

“It’s all a surprise, love,” Michael said, just loud enough over the low din of the party.

All in good time, they both thought.

They’d somehow managed to keep their costumes mostly a secret. You weren’t a heavy drinker, so after two drinks you were happy to just mingle and dance.

The bass thrummed under your feet. Michael behind you and Martin in front. The three of you always managed to find a rhythm no matter what you did. Dancing, sex, even just hanging out in one of your rooms.

Always perfectly in sync.

The party soon got a little too crowded and when the music switched to songs you weren’t worried about missing, you dragged your boys outside.

Perfect timing. Michael’s halls were closer than yours. The boys had planned it all out and luckily for them you continued to fall right into their plan.

They could see you were waning, the cool air more enticing than returning to the party.

“Do you want to go home, bunny?” Michael asked, your head on his shoulder as Martin smoked a few steps away.

You hummed in response, which he took as a yes.

A quick nod from Michael told Martin it was go time.

“Martin’ll head off and get the door open, I’ll walk you home yeah?”

You willingly moved as Michael stood, an arm around your waist as Martin headed off in front. When he was a good distance ahead, he slipped on the Ghostface mask.

“Showtime.”

The walk felt longer than you remembered. Or maybe you were just tired. Maybe you just couldn’t remember the path from the social hall to Michael’s room. It wasn’t a path you walked often, you had to admit.

But something felt…odd.

Michael was glancing around just a little too much for your liking. And why hadn’t they shown you their costumes?

You could see Michael’s halls approaching and his arm only tightened around your waist. He urged you forward as you pushed the door open.

And then your phone rang.

You hadn’t noticed Michael slip away as you pulled your phone from your bag. Who the hell would be calling you at this hour?

You answered the phone with a soft hello but got a silent pause in return.

“Hello?” you said a little more insistently this time.

The chuckle should have sounded familiar, but you were beyond confused.

“Do you like scary movies?”

You could have dropped the phone. You’d seen Scream. You knew the line.

“What the hell!”

You immediately hung up.

Only then, did you notice Michael was gone.

“Boys? Michael? Martin?”

No answer.

What the hell was going on?

Michael could hear you shouting. He felt a little guilty, but the halls were safe. He knew you were safe. Martin was going to be the first to show himself.

The hallway wasn’t dark, the lights warm as you wandered down to find Michael’s room. Maybe they thought you were right behind them? Not realising you’d stopped when your phone rang?

No, that didn’t make sense. Michael had been holding on to you.

Then your phone rang again.

“You didn’t answer my question, little bunny?”

Why…why was that voice so familiar? Your nerves were too on edge to think logically.

Michael watched from an alcove. Just a little longer…

“This isn’t funny…” you whined, but you didn’t hang up this time.

Martin was just outside the reception, mask on and leaning against the glass paned door. If you would just turn around, you’d see him.

“You look so cute, little bunny. Shake that tail again…”

You let out another whine and considered hanging up the phone. But you wanted to know who it was.

“Turn around, bunny…”

You had no hesitation in doing as you were told. Both boys were smirking under their masks at just how obedient you were.

“Good girl. Can you see me? I can see you.”

You turned just a little more. And then you saw it. Or him? The tall, dark figure pressed against the glass. Ghostface mask tilting in a way that made you shiver in both nerves and desire.

“Hello bunny…” the voice down the voice said, while the figure at the window waved.

This wasn’t a movie. Maybe it was someone trying to play a prank? Your thoughts didn’t even stray to your journal, the fantasies you had put to paper. But the desire that throbbed between your thighs should have reminded you.

“Who, who are you?”

The voice only laughed down the phone. A laugh so familiar yet you still couldn’t place it.

“It’s not me you need to worry about, bunny.”

Now that put you on edge.

The heavy steps coming up behind you had you torn between desire and fear. Before you knew it, you had broken out into a run.

Michael smiled under his mask. This was a lot more fun than he anticipated. He’d seen the flush in your cheeks, the way you rubbed your thighs together as you saw Martin in the window.

You had run close enough to the window for Michael to pass Martin.

“Keep her running for a little bit, get her upstairs to your room and I’ll meet you there.”

Michael simply nodded. He couldn’t lie, he was already semi-hard in his costume at just the idea of chasing you down. And a quick glance at Martin told him he was feeling much the same way.

The boys never crossed the line of intimacy in their relationship with you, but Michael had to admit…he could see why you liked the Ghostface look so much.

He could hear your footsteps rounding the far corner of the corridor and made his way back over.

All he had to do, was get you upstairs.

Martin made quick work of the steps, the key to Michael’s room in his pocket. He could just about hear your shoes against the wood floor downstairs.

Another phone call might do the trick.

You were panting when your phone rang again. You could hear the steps behind you still but hadn’t dared look. But that walk…

It was only when you glanced the reflection in the window did you realise what was going on.

Ghostface. Myers.

“Oh my god…” you mumbled, almost missing the call.

You were sure you knew it was your boys. But you’d be damned if you didn’t let your fantasy play out.

“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit. Run, run, run…”

Ghostface had to be Martin…you just knew it. Which meant Michael was Myers. That slow, powerful walk was ideal for him.

Your panties were damp at the thought. You didn’t even consider how they knew you’d like it.

You saw the stairs and made a break for it. If Michael was going to really play the part, he’d have to move slow. You had a chance to get a small reprieve.

Quick steps took you up the stairs. You didn’t even consider where Martin could have gone. But the thumping footsteps behind you told you Michael wasn’t far away.

Martin had the door unlocked, wide open enough for the light inside to be seen. He found a hiding spot and waited. Maybe you’d figured it out? Even if you did, it turned you on, why would you stop playing?

But the footsteps coming down the hall, one set hurried and one set heavy, told him it was about to get even more fun.

Michael had led you down so easily, without you even knowing. You saw the light on and dived inside the room. You recognised the posters as belonging to Michael.

“Fuck..” you muttered, and you realised then that this had been the game all along.

Martin remained quiet; he needed Michael in the room before they could continue.

The heavy steps got closer, your back pressed to the inner wall of Michael’s wardrobe in a poor attempt to hide.

It was only when you heard the door shut, that you knew it was over.

Then you heard Martin, confirming it was his voice on the phone.

“Come out, little bunny…”

They could hear your whimper, and Michael remained silent and completely in character. Their footsteps got closer, and you huffed when the door to the wardrobe tugged open.

“Look who we have here?” Martin sneered and before you knew it, Michael had you in his arms and out of the wardrobe.

Michael held you tight, reminding you how strong he could be despite his outward demeanour.

“Get her on the bed, if she’s a good girl, she’ll get a treat.”

You were roughly thrown down onto Michael’s bed, face first and your legs just hanging off the edge.

Michael and Martin simply stood, looking at you. They had fully planned how to get you up here, but the choice was…where to start?

You could tell it was Martin’s hands on your ass. Michael’s were making quick work of tugging the boots you wore down your legs. The firm touches had your skin on fire.

Martin had your dress pushed high, the soft lace of your panties making him groan beneath his mask.

You could only whimper softly as they maneuvered you. Michael was at the foot of the bed, and only know did you look up at him. The navy-blue boiler suit fit him all too well. The mask made his eyes look so dark you could barely see the icy blue you adored. And all he did was stare.

You had to appreciate just how in character they were.

Your hand was just about reach out and touch him when Martin’s hand landed a loud slap to your ass.

“Ah, behave yourself, bunny.”

You squealed at the contact. Your cheek burning from the impact. But a little part of you wanted him to do it again.

Michael’s hand reached out, gripping your wrists and forcing you to rest on your elbows. It was contact, but not the contact you wanted. His head tilted ever so slightly. The commitment truly impressive.

You felt the bed dip behind you, and you guessed Martin had climbed on to it. If there was one thing he enjoyed doing, it was showing off. And this time would be no different.

His hand trailed up and down your back. Pinging the straps at the back of your dress as he went. You couldn’t see it, but Martin met Michael’s gaze. A silent signal telling him what the plan was.

There was a chair at the end of Michael’s bed. Michael tugged it closer, giving him enough space to grip your wrists but seat himself in front of you. The combination of both of their touches was almost too much. You could barely concentrate on who was touching you where.

You could hear the jangle of Martin’s belt but at the same time you saw Michael unbuttoning his boiler suit. Martin slipped his fingers between the lace of your panties and your ass cheeks. Kneading and squeezing while your eyes remained trained on Michael.

It wasn’t the first time they’d had you between them. Usually special occasions, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day for example. It seemed Halloween was soon to be added to that list.

Martin’s fingers slipped lower and between your folds. Teasing you with almost feather light strokes.

“Keep your eyes on him, bunny.” Martin whispered; the coolness of his mask pressed against your shoulder.

You did your best. Michael had his suit below his waist, tugging off the cotton shirt he wore below. You never ceased to be impressed with how both of them looked. Deceptive physiques beneath their clothes.

His hand freed his cock from its confines. Hard from the mere sight of you on all fours and waiting.

Martin’s fingers found your bud, circling it slowly as Michael took his length into his hand. Pumping himself in almost perfect synchronisation to Martin’s fingers. Michael’s other hand remained firm on your wrist. Your hands mere inches from his cock as he worked himself faster and faster.

“Don’t make him do all the work.” Martin ordered you, pushing his fingers between your folds, curling them just the way you liked.

Michael shifted his hips, bringing the chair close enough to tug your hand to wrap around his cock. He knew he should be silent, but he wasn’t about to deny you the sounds you enjoyed the most.

The soft grunts and sighs he would let out just for you. Sounds that began to fall from his lips the second your hand touched his heated skin. Your hands were softer than his, but it was a feeling that always had his eyes rolling back. Your rhythm was a steady as possible, his hand guiding your wrist as your eyes squeezed closed from Martin’s touches.

“Oh, oh…” you whimpered, Martin’s fingers sped up.

Pushing deeper and deeper into your core, curling deliciously over your sweet spot. Your back arched, pushing yourself harder against Martin. Your backside rubbing against him and involuntarily making his hips begin to rut into you.

“Needy, needy little bunny…”

You thought it was Martin that had said it. But the voice came from in front of you. Michael couldn’t help himself. Your hand on his cock was enough to make him want to break character. He glanced a Martin, who only nodded. Your hand wasn’t enough for Michael and they both knew it.

Martin let his grip on your waist loosen, urging your forward as Michael stood. Your hand still gripped his cock, but Michael was quick to line himself up at your mouth. And you welcomed him instantly.

He pushed his mask higher, freeing his mouth and freeing the grunts that left him the second you took as much of his member into your mouth as you could. His hand tight in your hair, throwing the bunny ears off to the side.

Martin kept his fingers pumping, a firm smack to your backside making you jolt and take more of Michael’s cock down your throat. You could take it; they both knew you could.

Your slick was already dripping on to Martin’s hand. The combination of his fingers, the masks, Michael’s cock sliding in and out of your waiting mouth, you were aroused beyond anything you had ever felt before.

Your hips slowly began to push back in to Martin again, but he wasn’t going to give in and fuck you just yet. Both boys had agreed they would get their turn in your sweet warmth.

His own mask was pushed to his forehead, barely resting as he leaned down and swiped his tongue from your bud to your hole.

“Martin!” you whined out, muffled by Michael’s cock beginning to slam harder into your mouth.

Your moans vibrating down his length were almost enough to have him coming there and then. Both boys chuckled at your use of a name, wondering when you’d learned who was who. It didn’t matter really; the whole charade was almost forgotten.

His tongue continued it’s onslaught. Up and down, circling your bud and then your hole over and over again. Your hips pushing hard into his face, suffocating him almost in your flesh. His groans echoing through your body and making your eyes roll.

Michael tugged on your hair, reminding you to keep sucking and you complied immediately. You could already taste the salty pre-come on your tongue, you knew he was close. But before you could take anymore, he pulled back.

His face was suddenly at your level. Mask discarded as he kissed you.

“I’m only going to come in that pretty pussy, bunny.” His voice was almost sinful, lower than you’d ever heard it and laced with desire.

You were about to answer when Martin added his fingers back in, circling your pearl until you came with a wild moan of his name.

Before your tremors could subside, Martin pulled back and switched places with Michael.

“Fuck her good, our bunny is nice and wet.” Martin chuckled, replacing Michael in the seat in front of you.

You could see the bulge in his dark jeans. His hand palming himself as Michael turned you onto your back. He preferred you this way, knowing he’d be able to see your face.

Martin tugged his mask back down. You’d seen Michael in his, now it was your turn to see him.

“Think that mouth can take me?” Martin asked, unzipping his jeans and standing where Michael had been only moments ago.

You had your mouth open before he could even tug his jeans off. A long moan leaving you as Michael stroked your core. Your dress was soon tugged down, reminding your boys you’d gone braless tonight.

Michael had your panties down your legs and thrown to the side. He helped you shift up the bed, head hanging over the edge as Martin hovered near your face, the tip of his cock angled for your tongue to lick at.

Both boys pushed into you at the same time, your back arching up at the feeling. Martin let his head drop back. He’d never had your mouth at this angle before, but he made a mental note to do It again.

Michael pushed in slowly, spreading your legs wide so he could watch himself disappear in and out. He was already pent up from your mouth, this wouldn’t take long.

Once they found their rhythm, their pace was punishing. Smoothly sliding in and out of your mouth and cunt simultaneously. Your eyes rolling shut as your body succumbed to pleasure.

Michael’s hand returned to your chest, toying with both plump mounds until he felt his cock twitch inside you.

“Fuck…fuck…” he grunted, leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth as he painted your walls with his spend.

A few more thrusts had you coming around him, milking whatever was left to spill from his swollen head. His hands rubbing up and down your thighs as you came down from the high.

Martin pulled himself from your mouth, smirking as the string of his pre-come and your saliva dribbled down your chin as you sat up.

Your hands reached out for Michael, pulling him down for a kiss as you heard Martin shift onto the bed. Michael helped you sit up, Martin tugging off his shirt and laying down on his back.

You tugged his jeans off with shaking hands, Michael off the bed and stripping the rest of his clothes. He helped you climb over Martin, gripping your hips as you hovered over Martin’s cock.

“Got one more in you? Think you can be a good girl and ride him?” Michael asked, rubbing circles on your hips and pressing kisses to your shoulders.

You nodded, Martin’s hands sliding up over your stomach and up to your breasts. You knew what your favourite body parts were for them both, but they would both agree on their love of your breasts.

Michael held you up as Martin lined himself up at your swollen and soaked entrance. He slid in with barely any resistance, a growl of pleasure leaving his lips.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” Michael cooed, suckling at your neck and urging your hips to roll.

Your pace was slow, guided by Michael until you found the strength move on your own.

Martin’s hands remained on your chest, kneading and tugging at your nipples until they pebbled under his fingers.

“You feel so good, bunny. You’ve taken us both so well.” Martin grunted, replacing Michael’s hands with his as he began to slam up into you.

He wanted to watch you come again before you were finished for the night. Your breasts bouncing, your juices coating the skin and hairs on his body below. You were so close; he could feel it.

“Come for us, pretty bunny…” Michael groaned, having leaned back on the bed and begun to lazily palm himself with no intention of coming again.

It was like his words and the combination of Martin’s harsh thrusts were enough. Your body falling forward, head buried in Martin’s neck as you came for at least the third time that night.

Martin thrusted a few more times, his hands on your ass and squeezing as he pumped you full.

Your name was the last thing on his lips, his hands stroking your back as you stayed slumped against him.

He gestured for Michael to get you water and a cloth to clean you. Normally they’d have you in the shower to get cleaned up, but you were far too spent for that.

Martin held you, turning you onto your back as Michael cleaned the combined juices between your thighs. Your eyes were barely open, but the blissed-out smile on your face told them everything they needed to know.

“Thank you,” you sighed, snuggling between them as Michael slid next to your free side.

You weren’t going to question how they knew. Not right now anyway. But the boys had begun to wonder something…

What other fantasies were hidden in those pages?

Ewanverse Taglist:

@anjelicawrites @aemondsbabygirl @sylasthegrim

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99

@hoosbandewan @vhagar-balerion-meraxes

@errruvande @aemondsbabe

@towriteloveontheirarms @thought--bubble

@tumblin-theworldaway @mysticalendings

@arcielee @peachysunrize @multyfangirl

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @kaelatargaryen

[bxnfire]

Lines Blurred || Satoru Gojo

✎ synopsis: Heartbroken after dating “the boy of your dreams” you’re looking towards living a new life, one with new people and possibly new experiences, except the light hearted fun you hoped for became something stronger than that

✎ warnings/content: smut, fluff, tiiiny bit of angst, fingering, oral (both receiving), p in v, fwb, pet names, college!au

✎ a/n: this is my first ever fic!! english is not my first language, so please excuse any faulty grammar. please lmk if you have any suggestions or comments, they’d help a lot ❤️

✎ part 2 here

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏMINORS DNI ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

It had been 3 months since your last relationship ended. You dated one of your closest friends, and tauntingly enough, he was also in your friend group. Having spent your summer heartbroken and trying to move past things, if you were certain of anything it was that you wanted to spend the least amount of time in his presence, something near impossible if you also wanted to be around your friend group, therefore, you decided it was time for a change.

You had been friends with Shoko for a while, but didn’t really know her friends nor hung around her much, and seeing how she got you through your heart ache you decided it’d be a good idea to stick to her.

💬 Shoko ❤️: you comin w us for lunch?

💬 You: sure thing!

You were nervous. Geto seemed so hard to read, you wondered if he’d be annoyed by your presence, and you didn’t know Gojo at all. Would they like you? Would they make you wish you were back with your other friends? Would they welcome you like Shoko did?

All your questions suddenly coming to a stop when you felt someone bump into you.

“My bad! I got caught up playing ball over there, please let me know if I hurt you,” said an energetic but apologetic voice. As you turned to look at the speaker, you noticed you were met with his chest instead, and looking up at him, you realized it was none other than Satoru Gojo.

“No worries! You just caught me off guard, but I’m good,” you said reassuringly.

“Wait! Aren’t you Shoko’s friend? What was it,” he hesitated, then said “Y/l/n, right?”

Surprised he knew about you at all, you unknowingly smiled at his recognition. “Yes, that’s me!”

“I remember her talking about you,” he smiled, “she said you were going through it. Is that true? Are you feeling better now?”

Embarrassment ran through you. As your cheeks turned pinker than usual, you scratched your head and replied “yes, that’s true. Luckily, I’m doing better, but as you’ve probably heard I’ll be hanging with you guys for now. I hope we can get acquainted soon!”

“Sure we will, see ya around Y/l/n!” He said as he ran off back into the field to play once again.

You didn’t know it yet, but in no time Gojo would be your door to a new world.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

One month had passed, and Gojo was more than just your friend. It had started innocently enough, sending each other dumb reels, sharing snacks, and even studying together.

You found yourself enjoying your conversations with him more than you enjoyed anyone else’s. He was really easy to talk to, and was always there to lift you up and make you smile whenever you felt down. His easygoing nature making you feel at ease with him, something you realized you were missing more than you originally thought.

It was no secret that he was very attractive, his beautiful blue eyes every girl seemed to fall for surely had similar effects on you. His cocky confidence made him even more likable to you, was there anything this man couldn’t do? His build was also very attractive, not too muscular but still built enough to be easily noticeable whenever he hugged you or took his shirt off, something you found yourself treasuring more and more.

It was all friendly until one night the jokes started to change tone, and after a week of tension, and stolen glances, you finally had enough of his teasing.

💬 Gojo 🍰: y/l/n, do u think u could do this?

💬 Gojo 🍰: *VID*

💬You: oh please, that’s nothing. i’ve fit bigger things than that banana in my mouth before

💬 Gojo 🍰: oh is that so?

💬 You: yes 🤭

💬 Gojo 🍰: what if i don’t believe you?

💬 You: well in that case i’d have to convince you right?

💬 Gojo 🍰: and how would that be?

💬 You: come to my dorm and find out

Gojo was running. Unbeknownst to you, he had been into you for a while, even before you two officially met. He remembers the beginning of your sophomore year in college. You two had ethics together, and he remembers you as the kind girl who helped everyone around you. Anybody could come to you if they didn’t understand something, and indirectly, he’s learned a lot from you. Shit, you were the only reason why he passed that boof ass course. The only reason to keep him coming. In the halls, he’d gotten to see your humor. Playing silly pranks in your friends, hiding phones for fun, having sassy remarks ready whenever the time called for them, and how loudly, although cutely in his eyes, you laughed at your friends’ jokes.

In no time, he found himself easily picking out your voice from others, differentiating your laugh in a sea of noise, and noticing you whenever you were around. But oh, he really disliked your boyfriend. Not hated of course! Never that, he wasn’t a hateful person… Though if he were to be, he’d hate him. Your stupid boyfriend who didn’t do well in class and didn’t care enough to ask for your help, who believed anyone’s opinions about your relationship over yours, and who, in the end, preferred to spend time with anyone else but you.

In retrospective, he didn’t really hate your ex; if anything, he started to like him. After all, after he proved he was too shitty for you, you were smart enough to leave him, meaning Satoru finally had a chance with you. He was more than psyched when Shoko told him you were sticking around for a bit, something that didn’t go unnoticed by her, but she knew Satoru could do you better than your ex did, so she let it slide.

You, on the other hand, were a wreck. Letting your lust get the best of you didn’t let you truly think through what you were about to do. What if this screwed your newfound friendship over? What if he didn’t actually want you? What if…

Your thoughts were interrupted once again by Gojo, but this time it was through a text.

💬 Gojo 🍰: open ur door

Running to your door, you gave yourself a second to shake the nerves off before opening the door. There stood Gojo, so handsome even with his white hair messy from running and his clothes a little rustled, making it obvious he wanted to waste no time getting here. His smile, shy but curious, didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“You’re so goddamn thirsty,” you tell him, finding enough confidence to smile back.

“You don’t even know,” he whispers as he gets closer to you while shutting the door behind him.

Next thing you know, you’re pinned against the wall with his hands all over your body. His kisses are desperate yet gentle, as if he had been waiting for so long he was scared this was just a dream, one he didn’t dare wake up from. Flushing at that thought, you tangled your hands in his hair and pulled him even closer, something that ignited a fire in him.

Until he woke up and stopped. He pulled away for a second, looking into your confused eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this? Don’t get me wrong, I want to keep going, but I’d rather not make you uncomfortable ‘cause I know you may not be ready yet.”

This makes you smile. Couldn’t he tell how down bad you were for him? You truly found it sweet that he cared, but in that moment all you wanted was to have him down your throat. “I’m as ready as all I’ll ever be, unless you’re scared of course,” you reply, trying to bring back the mood.

“Scared? Baby you have no idea of how long I’ve waited for this, if anything, you should be scared of how desperately I want you,” and with that, he pulls you back in for a more passionate kiss.

Your response gave him the confidence to get bolder. His hands now ran under your shirt, every breath you took making them go a centimeter upper, until he eventually reached the hem of your bra. Shifting from your mouth to your neck, his kisses starting to get slower but more calculated, you started to moan at his touch, and in no time you felt something starting to poke your stomach. This made you even more flustered, and a familiar warmth pooled between your legs.

He picked you up and laid you down on your bed. Kissing your neck slowly, your whimpers get louder and louder as he presses him self against you, giving your soaking cunt well-received pressure.

Wanting to please him, you instinctively changed your positions so that you were on top of him and kissing down his body.

“Take this off,” you commanded.

“Who’s the thirsty one now?” He asked as he took his shirt off.

“Shut up. You came here so I could prove my point yeah?” You asked trying to hold on to you wavering confidence. His bulge was big, bigger than you would’ve thought it to be, but you were ready to take it, you wanted to taste him so bad.

Going over to him and taking his pants off, he stopped your hand from going further. You look up at him confused, wondering if you were doing something wrong.

“I want you to promise me something.” He said, looking deep into your eyes.

“And what would that be?” You asked, trying to guess what he could possibly be asking you.

“If you’re gonna show me your skills, it’s only fair I get to show you mine. Can’t let you one up me,” he said playfully, hoping you’ll let him in a little closer.

“Sounds good to me, but I don’t think you’ll be one upping me in any way,” you say, not wasting any time and going back to what you were doing.

Sliding down his underwear, his arousal sprung out, bigger and thicker than you thought it’d be. Giving it a few experimental strokes, your hand moved along his shaft trying to see what he liked, but to no avail, given that he was very reactive to all your touches, and this only encouraged you. Opting for leaving one hand at his balls and getting closer to him, you lick all over his dick.

Gojo is fucking losing it. He’s gripping the sides of your couch trying not to buck his hips into you. Who would’ve thought that all those late nights hopelessly scrolling through your profile stroking himself silly would eventually lead him to your bed were your mouth would finally replace his hands?

“F-Fuck, yeah, just like that,” he breathed out, lost in the feeling of your tongue deliciously swirling around his tip as you took him deeper in your mouth.

He started bucking his hips into your mouth soon after, gripping your hair and guiding your movements, fucking your face as he noticed how well you were taking it. As he was near the edge, he pulled your head away, once again leaving you confused.

“Why didn’t you let me finish the job?” You asked him almost mad, you wanted to see how he tasted.

“I want to make you cum first, told ya you won’t be one upping me tonight.”

“Oh really? You know I don’t need my mouth to make you cum right?” You say as you sit on his lap and start making out with him and put your hand to work. Since he was close not that long ago, you knew he’d be worked up enough to not take long to cum. Gojo was no longer kissing you as dominantly as before, having to take breaks to breathe and even moan under your touch.

Not even 10 minutes passed until he came all over your hand. Sticky ropes of cum shooting out coating your fingers, his abdomen, and your pants. Moving your hand to your mouth to suck his cum off your fingers, you look at him seductively. He wanted to be a brat and take control, but just watching you do that made him his dick throb once again.

Kissing you, now tasting himself in your mouth, he took your shirt off and tried to take your bra off. Inexperienced, he fumbled many times, which made you both laugh.

“Talk about one upping me and you can’t even take my bra off. What’s next, you won’t be able to find my clit?” You tease, doing the job for him.

“Oh please, let’s see who ends up begging for more by the end of the night,” he challenged, and for the first time, you realized you wouldn’t mind losing at all.

You were about to reply, but you realized he was no longer focused on your little banter. His eyes were glued to your bare chest, scanning every inch of your skin, wanting to remember everything for later, archive it in a special place in his brain.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says.

“You’re so fucking horny,” you reply, knowing better than to believe lust-filled words.

“I mean it! I’ve thought so even before we met,” he confessed, giving you no time to respond as he took one of your tits into his mouth while he played with the nipple in your other tit by rubbing it between his thumb and index finger.

Moans took over the room. Your smart mouth not shut, but rather occupied making progressively louder sounds in response to Gojo’s touch.

“Oh p-please G-Gojo!” You mewl, melting in his touch.

“Satoru.” He responds

“H-Huh?”

“Call me Satoru. You tried my nut, I think that’s enough to be on first name basis,” he joked, and in any other circumstance you would’ve laughed, but you were too caught up in the pleasure he was giving you.

“S-Satoru I-I need m-more!! Please give me more!!” You struggled to get out, but once you did, Satoru got to work quick pulling down your shorts and kissing down your torso to reach your thighs.

He licked, bit, and kissed around them, wanting to test how impatient you could get. It didn’t take you long to tug on his hair and pull him into you, his nose deliciously coming in contact with your soaked cunt, only the thin, wet fabric of your panties between you. Bringing one hand down to jerk himself while the other pulled your panties down to start kissing your sweet pussy, until he goes up to your clit and starts sucking it lightly, making sure you knew he was well aware of where it was and how to treat it.

His other hand reached up to your entrance and one digit started pumping into you. Your moans got louder and louder, and Satoru was wondering just how much longer he had until you were over the edge. Sticking in another digit and matching its curling pattern to the one inside made you start seeing stars, so lost in your own pleasure you couldn’t even manage to tell him you were about to come undone.

Eager to see you cry for him, all of a sudden he stopped, seeing your cute little flushed face with teary eyes look at him enraged.

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, forgetting all your pride and letting him know just how much he worked you up.

“Can’t have you wasting your arousal sweets. If you’re gonna cum, it better be all over my cock.” He said, waiting to see if he had fingered you dumb or if you had a smart remark for him.

“Then don’t fucking waste your time.” You replied, sitting on his dick and riding him to your own pleasure.

“S-Shit! You’re s-so big!” You moan, ecstasy reaching your system once again.

“This dick is all yours babe. Do as you p-please with me,” he replied, having a hard time keeping his composure as he watched your tits bounce in his face and feel you clenching his dick so fucking good.

It didn’t take you long to reach your climax, and seeing that you were unable to keep up with your own pace, Satoru took over and fucked you through your orgasm as he came closer and closer to his own. Pulling out in one quick motion, he came on your belly and kissed you as he did.

You both laid there quietly, trying to process everything that had just happened, not daring to say a word but also make a move away from each other. You were consumed in your thoughts until Satoru snaps you out of it.

“You impressed me sweets, you’re even sweeter than you look, and you take dick like a fuckin’ soldier,” he said as he caressed your face and you laughed with him.

“You’ve fucked a soldier before? Do those uniforms turn you on?” You reply playfully, happy that it’s almost like nothing has changed at all.

“Yes I have, she’s right in front of me, and I’ll need that soldier pussy putting me out of combat often,” he laughed as he said so, returning your energy as he always did.

You lay there naked just basking in each other’s presence, giving the bubble separating you from the rest of the world a little more time before bursting. Satoru ended up spending the night, but since he had a morning class the day after and you didn’t, he bought you breakfast before leaving your dorm.

You woke up to your favorite kind of coffee along with a butter croissant and a note in his unmistakable handwriting.

“Don’t miss me too much!! After lab is over I’m coming right back, so don’t leave juuust yet, I wanna see ya again ❤️

—Satoru”

Giggling, you sipped the drink as you recounted the events from last night, the memories flooding through and clouding your brain, making you genuinely wish he would come back soon.

Even then, after your daze was over, you really sat down to think of it all. Satoru was known for being a ladies’ man, could you just be another one of his conquests? You loved him, but you couldn’t stand to lose yet another friend due to your stupid feelings. Unsuspecting of his feelings for you, you decided to make it clear that you would just stay friends once he came back. Friends that were there for each other, but if the time came, friends that could call each other on those late, restless nights. This would be a sweet deal would it not? Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

Once Satoru came you acted normal. The usual banter between you two never failing to appear, but you could tell something had shifted. High fives or fist bumps were changed to hugs a little too long or kisses a little too intimate. Whenever people couldn’t see you, your usual friendly bickering turned into heated makeout sessions, always testing who gave into the other first.

Even if you placed the boundaries, ones that Satoru adhered to and respected almost religiously, you felt the dangerous beat of your heart whenever his name popped up on your phone or you happened to see him by chance. Once calling each other friends started to hurt, you knew you were screwed.

What you didn’t know though was how hurt he was too. How it pained him to have to hide his love for you all because he was scared you didn’t want to date him after all. He spent an awful lot of time dreaming of what it could be like if you were more than just friends with fucking benefits, if you would let him truly take care of you the way you deserved to be taken care of, if you could only give him a chance to prove that love, when good, is worth it after all. But he knew better than to push your limits, and so, he kept stealing glances, longing for your touch, and clinging to your little fuck sessions in hopes that one day, you’d see he had loved you all along.

[factual-fantasy]

27 Asks! Thank you! :)) 🍰

Comments and interaction are the only way I'm afraid.. But your comment doesn't have to be some lengthy and clever compliment. Simple comments like "I love this! :D" "Looks great!" "ASJDKNF" and "Lovely drawing!" will work just fine. <:)

I promise I'm not gonna look down on those comments in anyway. If someone commented on 100 posts of mine with very simple and even copy and pasted responses, I wont be annoyed- if anything that will clearly show me that this person is trying to show their appreciation for my art will also respecting my boundaries. I'll appreciate it a lot is what I'm saying! XD

Even so, if its still too much pressure or you feel too awkward, I totally understand. You don't have to interact at all if you don't want to! I wont look down on you for that either. You can drop a simple like and leave it at that! :)

I am! :D Although I'm not fully in the loop- apparently there's been an update..? :0

@paper-starz

Ooo I love the drawing! :D In return I present to you!,

Whoppers! :DDDD

@muratandlina @misscherrypie @pink088

WAHGG THE BOOPS!!! THE BOOPS!!! XDDD

@ocinstituterep

When it comes to transformers? I would say its probably impossible to fully memorize their design line for line <:( at least it is for me!

All I can advise is to draw up a very extensive ref sheet for them, as I have done before. <:T

(Link in ask)

Ugh, this is getting exhausting.. thanks for telling me though.. <:)

@neo-metalscottic (Cake hound and Tuna post) (recent Gravity Falls art)

hello hello! :D I've been hanging in there, recent art thefts and tracings has been pretty disheartening.. but I've been doing my best to move past it <:)

Also thank you! :DD I'm glad to hear you liked my cake hound artwork! :)) As for names, I was gonna say that they don't have names and aren't canon yet.. but then two names came to mind <XDD

The name Chief seems pretty fitting for the old chocolate cake hound :0 And I imagined the name Bailey for a smaller vanilla cake hound that tuna might have in the future! :0 Think of a golden retriever :00

As for Gravity Falls, I will admit it was nice to draw Stanley again! And thank you kindly for all the compliments! :DD But man, does it just make me think of all the old embarrassing GF posts I made in the past.. 😅 I'm glad you liked it none the less! :))

And lastly, I'm not sure what kind of coffee Stan would like :0 but he strikes me as the type to say "I like my coffee BLACK like my SOUL" but then secretly fills it with 75% sugar and creamer XDD

@feline-controller

I've watched the original show in its entirety, they're absolutely hilarious and very witty XDD and their 1960s DeSoto adventurer was such a cool touch to the show! It's a shame the show didn't last longer.. 😔 Also Sam is my favorite of the two :))

I have! :0 They're outfits are always so wild <XD

@readeren

All of Gummigoo is squishy! XD

I have never heard of it <:0 sorry!

@minnesotamedic186

As I state in my pinned post,

Any and all dubbed videos of my artwork is theft as I will never give anyone permission to use my artwork in their videos 👍

@holly-opal

I did have a comic in mind where Wally wakes up from a nightmare and and its sends him into a panic attack. But he doesn't react the way you describe, quite the opposite actually :0

I pictured that he has a more silent panic. Where he shakes violently, his eyes are wide an he's sweating bullets. Unable to speak all the while. Even when he starts to cry he doesn't react to the tears, they just drip down his face silently.

He ended up thinking "Its okay, you're panicking. You're just panicking" but when that doesn't calm him down he thinks "Just call Barnaby. Talk to Barnaby and he'll calm you down, go call Barnaby."

He stumbles to the phone and while its ringing, he hears the floor creak behind him he whips around and knocks the phone off the table. The crash sends him over the edge and he drops the phone to run and hide. When Barnaby picked up his phone and no one replied.. he became really worried.

You cant accidentally butt dial someone on those old phones. Someone intentionally called him and then seemed to drop the phone.. knowing Wally has been acting off lately, he couldn't shake his worry and went out to check on Wally.

When he got to the door and knocked, he heard a vase shatter in Wally's house. Barnaby burst in and found Wally in a state.. The rest is what you can imagine. He comforts Wally and stays with him the whole night. They talk about his nightmare and the sleeping problems he's been battling.. things like that :0 Barnaby is goated :)

@octonauts16

The only brain rot word that doesn't drive me crazy and that I use unironically is "sus" XDD

@spottedsplash

Awe, thank you! That's very sweet <:)) I'm glad to hear you like what I've put up! :DD

IS THAT A MOOSHROOM COW WEARING IRON ARMOR??

@captain-skyler1987

I took me way too long to notice Goku on the left side XDD

Also yes I do! :D I'm getting better at recognizing a handful of my followers :}}

@beryl-shade

I watched Caseoh play it on YouTube :0 Although the parkour style game play was fun and refreshing!.. I wasn't particularly interested in the story as a whole 😅 I just saw it as yet another mascot horror.. <:/ FNAF holds my interest in that category <XD

@caronaro-flipaclip

His theatrical tone can be a liiitle annoying sometimes. And I cant not hear Finn the human when he talks <XD

But otherwise I like his character :) I feel kind'a bad for Gingerbrave sometimes- it kind'a feels like a lot is expected of him. Everyone is constantly asking him for help and he's always the one trying to defuse any given situation. Poor guy.. <:(

@fandomcenteralral

Reminds me of cult of the lamb! I love the critter 💞💞

@milmaxtor

ME WHEN PEOPLE SAY THEY LIKE WHEN I POST XDDDD

(Referencing this post)

Yes of course! :D People took the time out of their day to interact with me, the least I can do is respond to their questions properly! <:))

Also thank you! :DDDD

(Link in ask)

The song wasn't really my taste, but the artwork was great! :))

Welcome home got an update? :0 I had no idea! I guess that would explain the sudden influx of Poppy artwork.. 🤔

@shamelessboiledwater

XD I hope you remember sometime soon!

@minnesotamedic186

That I am! :) I've even drawn the gang before! Buster Moon is my favorite character :)

[leftshoeuntied]

König x Reader Blurb

feel like I'm in a bit of a creative rut right now, so just trying to write what comes to me if you'll forgive me if not good haha :)

CW: mentions of nightmares, but no in depth explanation of what's in them, military!reader, not edited

Everything that could’ve gone wrong during this mission went wrong. Hours late to the safe house, your hike to the safe house had doubled in time and night had already fallen around the two of you. As you drag your feet into the safehouse behind your CO, you nearly let yourself fall to tears. Separated from the rest of your team in the commotion of the last attack, it was just you and König in the safehouse tonight and the rest of your team should be back early tomorrow morning. 

You held back the tears, but you couldn’t help the shaky breaths you let out. Although it wasn’t your home, there was a bit of relief that you were away from all of the immediate chaos tonight, behind real walls and that your team should have exfil tomorrow.

König let out a gruff get yourself settled before heading into dining room area to prep some food for himself, you assumed. Readjusting your rucksack on your shoulders, you head down the dark hallway, peeping your head into the different doors along the walk to check the different rooms. You counted out three bedrooms, each with two twin beds tucked into them and one full bath at the end of the hallway. Quickly you tossed your bag into the doorway of the room closest to the bathroom, before heading into the bathroom to take a quick shower. 

The warm water helped to soothe your muscles, but the inside of your brain still felt like it was moving a million miles a minute. You emerged from the hallway into the living room area to find König set on the couch, bowl of food in one hand, remote in the other, flipping through the few staticky antenna channels on the television before settling on some black and white movie. Once he saw you, he nodded his head towards the kitchen and lifted the bowl of food, implying that he made extra for you to grab some. 

Dinner passed, and you thanked him for leaving you the extra, but had to wish him a goodnight. Today’s mission still weighed heavily on you, and you had hoped that some sleep in a real bed, even if just some twin bed in a random safehouse, could help you relax and release the stress from your bones. Sure enough, your exhaustion caught up to you but your sleep was anything but relaxing. When you woke up in a fright you could still feel your heart racing and the sweat dripping down your back, your dreams were a repeat of everything that happened earlier that day, but somehow worse, that you were only the one who made it back to the safehouse, unclear of the safety of your team.

The darkness of your empty room felt too heavy, hating that you couldn’t see the other bed in your room, even if you knew it was empty. You debated in your head what would be a worse option; staying in your room alone and not getting any sleep, or possibly waking up your CO just to tell him you had a nightmare. The second option was embarrassing and anxiety inducing enough on its own, but at least it gave you the chance of some sleep tonight. Seeing König could help you convince your brain that you’re not fully alone, but also you felt like a small child again looking for a parent for comfort. 

Finally, after a few minutes of silent debate, the chance of sleep outweighed the small moment of embarrassment, and you threw your legs over the side of your bed onto the ground to start your shuffle.

You knocked softly on the closed door across the hallway from you, but heard no movement from inside. You knew he was in there and should be safe, but you couldn’t help the panic starting to swirl in your stomach. Your spiraling state only clouded your brain more, your nightmares started to feel real.

“König?” you asked out softly, trying to choke back the scared sob crawling up the back of your throat. From there you hear a bed creak and heavy footsteps heading towards you. With a creak of the door, it swings softly open and König stares back down at you, or at least you assume so, between the mask and the darkness of the room and hallway blurring your vision a bit.

“Are you okay?” He asks lowly, the gruff sleepiness lining his tone.

“I’m sorry, I just, my dreams felt too real, I just had to double check…” You start, but the more you try to explain yourself, the more embarrassed you feel. You shouldn’t be letting these nightmares and anxieties effect you so much, especially in front of your CO.

“Would you like to sleep in here tonight?”

“I-“ you begin, but before you could even dissuade the idea and say you’ll be fine, König cuts you off.

“Go grab your sheets from your bed, let’s get you set up.”

Thank you, you whispered softly before turning back to your room in pulling your sheets quickly off of your bed. König followed you in to the room, grabbing your rucksack off the ground and plopped it by his own by the door of your now shared room. König had stepped back out of the room when you started to tuck your sheets onto the new bed. Part of you started to feel bad now for encroaching on his space in this small room. Yes, there were two beds in this room so you technically had your own space tonight, but there were now two other rooms with four empty beds that you should’ve been able to sleep in for one night without having to share a room with your CO.

After your new bed had been made and you had sat, König reemerged into the room with a mug of tea in his hands, and placed it carefully down on the windowsill next to your bed. “It’s peppermint, it’ll help settle your nerves. Drink it while it’s still warm.”

And with that, König turns and gets back into his own bed. Settling back on your own bed, you grab the mug from the windowsill and hold it close to your chest, taking some of its warmth. “Thank you” you say softly again, you guess he’s close to sleep again or at least trying since he’s on his back again looking up at the ceiling, but you can’t tell if his eyes are closed or not.

Rolling onto his shoulder, he let out an easy yawn and a soft gruff “of course now get some sleep, yeah?” 

Holding his eye contact you gave him a small smile and nod, “thank you”. You think you might see his eyes crinkle softly and with a small nod, he falls onto his back, settling back onto his own mattress. Soon soft snores started to fill the room, and you finished your last sip of tea before shuffling down further on the mattress and snuggling in for your own night of sleep.

divider by @/riottsrph - thank you!!

[bbina]

eggs

it smells like burning eggs

you can't tell if you're half conscious or half awake

your dream has been quite odd to say the least. you were dreaming about how you were hugging someone in your sleep that it felt a little too real to be a dream..

hold on, how the fuck did you make it home last night?

your eyes flutter open at the sound of sizzles coming from your kitchenette

is someone at your apartment right now?

immediately, you sat up from the bed. wrong move if you thought so yourself cause now your head felt like it's being pounded down relentlessly

hissing, you cradled your head. how much did you even drink last night and how did you make it home in one piece?

"oh you're awake"

a voice speaks. you look up and there he was, the owner of the voice that you know all to well now.

it was wonbin

who was messily wearing your bright pink apron, holding a frying pan with a lopsided smile plastered on his face

so the smell of burning eggs wasn’t a dream

wait a second.. if wonbin was here and those damn eggs weren't a dream then does that mean the person you were hugging in your dream was wonbin?

“i know you have a lot of questions judging by the look on your face right now but before that” wonbin pauses, putting down the frying pan back to the induction stove and picking up a glass of water and some painkillers from the counter before handing them to you, "drink these first"

you let out another hiss when you felt the second wave of your headache. damn you hangovers. you swallow the medicine and wiped your mouth with the sleeve of the jacket you were wearing before you realized that you didn't own a fuzzy jacket

was this wonbin's jacket too?

"i didn't do anything stupid last night, did i?" you ask, feeling the embarrassment slowly creep up in your veins

wonbin chuckles at your question, turning off your induction stove before plating what seems to be your breakfast

"unless you consider calling me to pick you up last night as something stupid then no. you didn't do anything stupid" wonbin places down the plate that had eggs and kimchi fried rice on the table in front of you

you can feel your face heat up. you've definitely done it now. why did you even call him in the first place? you will never know

"it's fine by the way. in case you're thinking about how it must've been a hassle or some shit like that. i don't mind." wonbin adds, as if he was reading your mind, "if anything i'm glad you called me instead of some random person to pick you up"

"i'm so-"

"shh. no need for that" wonbin shushes you, picking up your spoon, scooping a spoonful of the food that he graciously made just for you before holding it in front of you, "say ah" he coos playfully

you scrunch your face, swatting his hand away before you pick up the spoon and fed yourself. no way in hell you were about to let him do this shit for you too

"eat up" wonbin says, watching you eat in front of him. you raise an eyebrow at him before munching away the food he made

"not bad" you murmured, savoring the taste. you're not too sure if you have the heart to tell him that the egg was a little too salty for your liking. "the kimchi fried rice is good" you complimented

"thank you" wonbin smiles, he leans on the table, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he watches you intently

"eggs are salty as fuck though" you blurt out, glancing at him for his reaction

wonbin scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully

"it's the thought that counts anyway" he retorts

true, you thought to yourself. the effort he put into this– taking care of you just speaks louder than words and you know that damn well. there's a strange feel in the air right now and you're not sure if you like it

"you know, you were pretty funny last night" wonbin starts, chuckling at the memory

you groan, dropping your utensils on the table as you cover your face with your hands

"so i did do something stupid" you complained

"not necessarily. you just said some things.." wonbin trails off, teasing you, "something along the lines of how happy you are these days" he grins

you can feel your face heat up again. you mentally curse yourself for letting your guard down who even knows what you yapped about last night when you were under the influence. you could've said anything!

"i hope i didn't say anything weird.." you mumbled, hiding your face away from wonbin who bursts out laughing.

fuck, you definitely did say something weird for him to react like that

"you asked me to–"

"i don't want to hear it" you cut him off, placing your hands on your ears to prevent yourself from hearing about the shit you probably said last night

wonbin laughs again at your reaction. he figured that you won't be able to take it just yet since it was the morning after anyway. guess he'll just hold this against you another day

while wonbin was busy laughing, you were trying to rack every memory you can remember in your head for anything that led up to whatever situation you're in with wonbin. does karina and giselle know that wonbin brought you home? were they the ones who called him? why can't you remember anything?

"all i'm gonna say right now is that i feel the same way" wonbin breathes out, wiping a stray tear from his face after laughing his ass out

what the fuck did he mean by that

"anyway, you done with that? i'm gonna wash the dishes so you don't have to later" wonbin asks, getting up from the chair in front of you. you nod your head yes as you push your now empty plate onto the table.

your fingers accidentally brush against his sending sparks all over your body. even if it was just for a brief second, you couldn’t help but think about it over and over again

wonbin smiles, taking the said plate and walks towards your sink and starts washing the dishes for you

you sit in silence just watching his back. the way this feels all too domestic feels so weird but at the same time, it feels so right. like you two are supposed to be doing shit like this

no, what the fuck? why are you suddenly thinking of weird things? wonbin is just a friend. why are you thinking about him in such domestic way

friends don't do this

they don't.

do they?

you shake these intrusive thoughts away. this has got to be the worst hangover you ever had in your life. to the point it got you thinking of weird things all of a sudden. but no matter how hard you try to divert your attention elsewhere, it just goes back to him unconsciously

what the fuck is going on

alone together ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 . . . intrusive thoughts

── taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

⋆｡˚ prev | next ˚｡

꩜ notes .ᐟ i kept procrastinating bc of someone's enlistment and i havent been the same since.. are we ready for alone together 2.0? p.s the last two texts are like prev texts. they didn’t happen “today”

꩜ taglist .ᐟ @onlywonb @rosesfortaro @starwonb1n @wonychu @totheseok @dolloie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @binluvsu @onlyhyunjin @annswwa @wonbinsvlle @hakkkuu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @artstaeh @lecheugo @odxrilove @bunni @saranghoeforanton @nujeskz @nakam00t @kyusqult @nctsshoes2 @revehosh @s9nwoo @daegale @palchokitty @dutifullyannoyingfox @oshakyao @koryutte @b-riize @meowbini @peterm4rker @winuvs @i03jae @rsatoru @enhacolor @dalliesque @sweetiejaeyun @dearestjake @cupidslovearrows @sasfransisco @kkumistars @sngj08 @taroddori @nshmurarki @ennycutie @sa3ha @koeuh @astro-doll-the-star @amouriu

[lukalnst]

I have 2 requests if you dont mind. 1) their reaction to receive flowers. 2)making them pick a number from 1 to 50 and kissing them to that number. (You can do any character if it gives you ideas.✨)(Alien stage) I think there are 4 requests, feel free to reject them.💗

ALIEN STAGE CHARACTER REACTIONS TO GIVING THEM FLOWERS + KISSING

Includes: Mizi, Ivan, Till / Gender neutral pronouns for reader / Fluff / Kisses / Gift giving

Mizi

"You — You really got these for me?"

She is pretty flustered by your gift. She has received flowers in the past on a few occasions, but it didn't mean that much to her; however, you had gotten those for her!

She tries to get you a gift back as soon as she can!

She will maybe try to ask for what you'd like (which she would try to do subtly, but fail miserably at it), and then gift you the things that you asked for.

Chocolates? Flowers? Plushies? Just ask for it!

As for the kisses, I'm pretty sure she'd be flustered by your first kiss with her.

She was a bit awkward when doing it, yes, but she tried her best!

As for the kissing number thing – she chose a number somewhere around 20~.

You can imagine her face when you kissed her around 20 times!

She's not complaining, though.

"Mizi! I got these for you!" You said, practically shoving the flowers in her face. She was a bit taken aback, but she hesitantly took them.

"You got these for me? Why – why?" She managed to stutter out. She was a bit confused, but she wasn't upset. Was it your anniversary and she had forgotten? Did she forget her own birthday?

You just smiled at her. "Well, because I love you!" You beamed out. Now, her face had warmed up slightly and also had a pink blush covering her cheeks.

"I... love you too."

Ivan

He had gotten flowers for you in the past on many occasions but never expected you to do the same.

"You... you don't have to."

He wasn't upset – just confused at why you would get anything for him. He hadn't done anything particularly great, so there wasn't any need to gift him anything.

Ivan was about to speak again when he simply got interrupted by your question. Choose a number? Odd, he chose 35 though.

Oh, the way he got embarrassed after each kiss was nearly adorable.

Mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah.

He didn't want to admit to this, but he loved each time you kissed him. He was quite disappointed when you finished, though. For him, this should've lasted 5 hours at least.

Ivan was quick to return the favor! Gently holding your face in his hands, he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

He was... so gentle with it, too. His touch was feather light, and the way his lips brushed against yours was so soft.

"I love you," he whispered.

Till

Flowers...? had someone died and he just wasn't aware of it?

He was reluctant to take them at first, he looked around to make sure there was no one around and then took them.

He didn't want to admit this either, but he appreciated everything you did for him.

"Idiot. You don't have to," his words would be harsh to basically anyone who didn't know him, but you knew those words lacked any real meaning.

He grabbed your hand and took you to a secluded place, making sure that no one would see any of you.

Hesitant, he kissed your cheek.

How absolutely adorable.

You asked him to choose a number from 1 to 50, and he chose the highest; 50.

He didn't have anything to loose anyway...

You can imagine his reaction when you kissed him nearly 50 times.

By the time you were about to finish, he pushed you away, his face being practically beet red, and he gently brushed his hand over the places where you had kissed him on.

"Don't – don't do that in public!" He reprimanded you.

Secretly, he enjoyed each kiss.

"Stop– stop doing that!" He protested as you placed your lips against his face once again. He didn't hate those kisses – it was pretty much the opposite.

But what if someone saw you both? They'd definitely tease him about it.

Even though he was deeply embarrassed, he softly kissed your lips and then just hoped it was enough to keep you satisfied.

"Freak," he stuttered out.

[darthfrodophantom]

Death Is My Gift

Summary: When Danny becomes the personification of Death, his new powers are the least of his problems. Summoned as the fourth horseman of the apocalypse, Danny tries to sabotage it from the inside while also contending with the other three horsemen, the one who summoned him, and the knowledge that if he fails, he may have to help bring about the end of the world.

AO3: Link

Chapter 1: Still Dead - Thanks for Checking

“What the hell is that on your phone?” Sam asked, her tone dripping with derision. 

Danny looked up from his screen and cocked his eyebrow. “What?” How could she see what was on his screen when she was on the other side of the table? Not that he had anything embarrassing on there, but look it wasn’t his fault that he messed up his Insta algorithm because he watched one video about large superheated copper balls melting through a telescope lens and now he couldn’t stop watching more of them. But still, how could she see it?

She gestured toward the back of his phone. “That sticker - what the hell is it?”

Understanding dawned on the usually clueless boy and his face brightened. “Oh, it’s my new sticker! Isn’t it great?” he preened as he moved his hand to the side so they could see the sticker in its full glory. He had been waiting for them to notice it, and somehow it took all the way until lunch for them to comment on it. 

Tucker craned his neck around to see the purple coffin-shaped sticker plastered onto the back of Danny’s phone case. In white letters it read: “Still Dead. Thanks for checking.” Tucker snorted before he devolved into cackles. “Dude, that’s great!”

Danny grinned even wider. “Right? I thought it was too funny.”

“No, it’s stupid,” Sam argued, and her harsh attitude completely ruined the mood. “Danny, the less people associate you with death, the better.”

“Oh come on Sam, if they haven’t figured out that Danny Phantom and Danny Fenton are the same person by now when they have the exact same hairstyle, then a sticker is not going to phase anyone,” Tucker argued, ever in defense of his friend.

“Exactly!” Danny seconded.

“Or it’s exactly the last piece that helps people make that connection because there’s already so little separating you!” Sam exclaimed, though she did try to keep her voice down so no one else would overhear.

“Or maybe they’ll just think I’m a moody Gen Z kid that says this kind of dramatic stuff all the time. Which is why you should have let me keep that shirt.” He still thought that “Dead Inside” shirt was ironic and iconic, but Sam conveniently spilled black ink from her fancy new quill set  on it and refused to give it back for this very same reason.

“Yeah, he could just make it his brand,” Tucker agreed. The two of them always seemed to be on the same page.

Sam reached out like she was about to rip the sticker off his phone, but decided against it and shook her head. “Fine. You want to keep the sticker on your phone? Fine, but don’t cry to me when people start putting the pieces together,” she huffed.

“Well since that’s not gonna happen, you’re gonna be waiting a long time,” Danny grinned. He struck an overly exaggerated victory pose with his neck cocked slightly to the side while he tilted his chin up to the sky. 

Sam jerked back as the color drained from her face. “Danny what the—“ she cried out, so loudly and so suddenly that it caught the attention of other people in the lunchroom. 

Danny immediately looked behind him, assuming that whatever caused Sam’s sudden reaction had to be behind him. His need to protect his friends from whatever threat caused such a startled response rose up and hammered in his throat as his mind spun with the possible horrors he would see behind him. 

But he saw…nothing. Well, not nothing. He saw other students eating their lunches at other tables throughout the room. Students drifted in and out of the cafeteria as they finished their lunches. No ghost. No threat. Nothing that should cause Sam to turn as white as she did.

He turned back to face Sam, concern etched deep into his brow as he studied her face. “Sam? What’s wrong?” he asked in quiet urgency. If she truly saw some danger that he couldn’t, then he needed to know.

Sam studied Danny for a long moment, far too long for Danny’s liking. She wasn’t looking past him, she was looking at…him. “...Nothing. Nothing. It’s nothing. I think I’m just seeing things. I thought I saw…nevermind. It’s nothing,” she assured them. 

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because something freaked you out.”

She shook her head and plastered a forced smile on her face. “Yeah, I’m sure. Too little sleep and too much caffeine has just got me jumpy. I’m fine, really. Besides, we need to act like we’re having a normal conversation: too many people are watching.”

“Well yeah, you practically jumped out of your seat,” Danny pointed out. 

She narrowed her eyes and gave him a half smile before she reached across the table and grabbed his abandoned phone. “It did let me get your phone though.”

“Wait hey!” Danny protested as he reached across the table to recover his phone from her clutches, but she deftly moved around his grasping hands. 

“Now let’s see about that sticker,” she teased. Danny immediately doubled his efforts to retrieve his phone. Not being able to rely on ghost powers made it a little more difficult than it should have been to win it back (was he maybe relying on those too much? That felt like too much of a Jazz question for him to think about it too long), but he did save the phone and his ironic sticker. He was so preoccupied saving his sticker that he didn’t notice that Tucker had gone quiet and regarded Sam with a very significant and curious stare.

Lunch wrapped up shortly after the scuffle over the phone, and the three of them rushed off to their lockers and then off to class. Just outside the door to the classroom, Tucker held a hand out to stop Sam and waited for Danny to get a few feet inside before he spoke up in a whisper.

“Did you see the skull?”

Sam blinked and her face grew pale again, just like it had in the lunchroom. “The what?” she asked with a slightly shaky voice.

“The skull? Over Danny’s face?”

“What? Yes! Yes I thought I was going insane!” she exclaimed, though still in a whisper to not catch any more attention. The briefest moment of relief washed over her, but it immediately washed away into even more worry.

“No, I saw it this morning,” Tucker admitted. “Thought it was just some trick of the light or something. It was there one moment and then–”

“--Gone the next,” Sam finished. “And when I saw it I just felt…off. Like this moment of dread. Like I was–”

“--Looking at something I shouldn’t have seen,” Tucker validated as he nodded his head. “Yeah, same here. It was a weird feeling to have looking at my best friend.”

“What does it mean?”

“No idea,” Tucker sighed as he looked towards Danny pouring over his textbook in the hope that he’d be able to at least pretend that he did the reading before class. “But knowing Danny, it’s probably nothing good.”

Danny noticed odd glances from his friends a few more times that day. He worried maybe he had something on his face, but then again Sam would have said something. Tucker would have stayed quiet to have a good laugh about it later, but he’d have clued him into the joke by now. Maybe he was doing something ghostly without knowing it? But if that was the case they would have definitely let him know. In the end, he chalked it up to his friends being weird and went about his strangely quiet day.

There weren’t any ghost attacks. He couldn’t remember the last time he went through a school day without being interrupted by ghosts. It felt…nice, but unnerving at the same time, like he missed something. Like he was supposed to clue into something happening in the Ghost Zone. But in the end he decided not to worry about that either, especially once school ended and he could just hang out with his best friends ghost free.

By the time they hit up the game store (Tucker was still trying to get them into tabletop games) and the record store (Sam wanted to browse the LPs), Danny had forgotten all about his previous warnings…until he hit the Boba shop. Second up to bat, he placed his order with the barista, a smiling young woman who wore fun earrings that looked like watermelon slices. He paid for his drink and left a decent tip, but when he looked back up from the pin pad, her haunted expression caught him by surprise.

No longer kind and smiling, her unfocused gaze stared beyond him with eyes opened so wide her eyelids disappeared. Her pale, gaunt face looked hollow and lifeless. Her mouth fell open unnaturally.

“Fifty-seven years, one hundred and thirteen days, seven hours.”

Her flat, emotionless voice echoed within the sudden silence of the rest of the room. Chills shot along his body as the hair on his arms stood on end. His gut twisted uncomfortably as the presence of something…wrong and haunting fell over him. The silence of the world pressed in around him and left him only with that eerie voice thrumming though the void.

“What?” he finally stammered out.

“Do you want a receipt?” she repeated in her normal voice. Suddenly the whole world came back around him. The noise and the commotion of the busy Boba shop almost felt overwhelming after the sheer absolute silence.

“Oh uh…no,” he answered lamely.

“He’s good,” Sam spoke up quickly from behind. She pushed him to the side and took over the situation, but concern etched deep lines into her forehead. “But I’ll have a…”

What Sam ordered was lost on him as Tucker pulled him over to the drink pick-up counter. “Dude, what happened?” he asked in an urgent whisper. “You just froze.”

“I don’t…I don’t know. I heard something totally different…” The eerie tone of her voice, the chill that shot like livewire up his spine (like the accident, but he really didn’t want to think about that), it all stuck with him and wouldn’t leave him. His memory was absolute trash at the best of times, but he could still remember every number she quoted to him like it had been etched into his very core.

“What did you hear?” Tucker asked as Sam joined them. Those concerned lines across her brow still made him feel like something more was going on here, because Sam usually only worried when there was actually something to worry about.

“Just…some numbers, like years and months,” he shrugged, trying to pass it off as normal, even if it couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Like a countdown?” Sam pressed.

Danny’s eyes grew wide. Exactly like a countdown. Down to the hour.

He didn’t need to say anything for Sam to know she was on to something. “So what was she counting down to?”

“You think I know?” Danny rebuffed as he pointed at himself. “But you guys heard it right? How…creepy she sounded? How hollow?”

“No, we didn’t man,” Tucker responded, strangely serious. “We heard her ask if you wanted a receipt and then you just froze.”

He looked between both of his friends, hoping for some kind of alternate answer or for someone to say they were pulling his leg, but they weren’t. “So you…you didn’t hear it?” he implored, desperate for someone to agree with him.

“No Danny, we didn’t,” Sam confirmed. “But Danny, we need to–”

“Pomegranate boba,” another barista announced. Danny automatically turned towards her, only to see the same lifeless stare directed his way.

“Twenty years, two hundred and twelve days, two hours.”

He shook his head and closed his eyes as the pressure of the void threatened to swallow him again, but then like before, everything opened up and the noise of the world rushed back to him.

“Danny?” Sam fretted as she stepped closer to him. 

He opened his eyes and looked out on the brightly lit boba shop. “Sorry I…it happened again,” he admitted.

Tucker and Sam exchanged significant glances behind Danny’s back before making an executive decision. Tucker grabbed their drink orders while Sam gently placed a hand on Danny’s back. “I think we should get out of here,” Sam suggested.

Danny could see the sense in that. The last thing they needed was to make a scene, and he could feel the eyes of both the people behind the counter and the ones standing in line. Best to beat a hasty retreat and figure this out somewhere a little quieter.

He scooted around the line of customers, hoping he could make a quiet exit. He caught the gaze of a young boy in line, but he only saw the vacant stare on his young face.

“Eighty three years, three hundred and two days, eleven hours.”

Danny spun quickly away from the boy and placed his hands over his ears, but it didn’t help as he locked eyes with a college student at a table who happened to look up from her laptop.

“Three years, thirty days, seven hours.”

And then the gaze of a well-dressed woman striding through the door.

“Forty years, eighty-eight days, nineteen hours.”

And the older man sitting with his grandchildren at a table.

“Ten years, one hundred and fifty days, three hours.”

Macabre countdowns from various shop patrons echoed around him. Anyone who met his gaze morphed their faces into the gaunt masks and intoned their countdown in that same hollow voice.

“Stop! Stop!” Danny cried as he curled in on himself. Tucker and Sam immediately pushed him through the doors and outside of the shop full of curious onlookers, but if they thought ushering him outside of the shop would be better, they were terribly wrong as Danny confronted more people on the street. The constant chorus of lifeless laments descended upon him in a deafening whirlwind.

“Ninety-eight days, twenty hours.”

“Sixty-eight years, two days, one hour.”

“Seventeen years, two hundred and ninety days, eight hours.”

Until they finally culminated in a chilling “Thirteen seconds.”

A morbid curiosity came over him as his gaze lingered on the older man who intoned the foreboding knell, just before the man clutched at his chest and dropped to the ground. Everyone around him rushed to his side and barked out orders to call an ambulance, but Danny knew deep, deep down in his core that it wouldn’t do any good. 

The man was dead. 

Dead, exactly thirteen seconds later.

Realizing this area was about to get a lot more attention, Tucker and Sam pushed Danny into a nearby alley and shrouded him from view. “Danny what the hell is happening?” Sam practically yelled.

Danny dropped to the ground as he clutched at his core that ached with the pain of what he just witnessed, and the horror of what he’d come to realize. He didn’t want to admit it to himself or to the world as a whole, but he had a horrifying feeling he knew what the times meant.

They were a countdown to death.

“I don’t…I don’t know why, but people keep telling me how long…how long they have…left,” Danny squeaked out between shallow breaths. The world swam around him and he clenched his jaw to try not to be sick.

“Left to what?” Tucker asked.

“To live you idiot!” Sam chastised. “Danny, are you sure?”

“What else could it be?” he exclaimed as he gripped at the hair on the sides of his head. “Someone said thirteen seconds, and then thirteen seconds later he…he…” His breath quickened in his chest. His heart thrummed too fast against his ribs. Sweat beaded on his brow as he shivered. This…this was a panic attack. Oh god, he was having a panic attack. But could anyone really blame him? He heard a man was going to die and just…just…watched it happen and couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything!

“Danny…Danny just look at me,” Sam pressed delicately as she knelt next to him and placed a gentle hand on his arm.

His eyes reached her chin before he remembered - as soon as he met someone’s gaze, even from afar, they told him how long they had. He couldn’t know that about his best friend. He couldn’t. What if it was a small number? What would he even consider to be a small number? Would any number ever be large enough?

He slapped her away in a panic and retreated into himself as he buried his head into his arms. “No!” he screamed. “No, any time I look at someone they tell me how much time they have left and I can’t…I don’t want to know that. I can’t know that!” he practically screeched.

Sam and Tucker exchanged worried but uncertain looks. They’d dealt with a lot since the accident, but this was certainly a new complication where their very presence seemed to add more stress. 

“Okay Danny, okay. We don’t know if that’s what’s happening.” She paused as she felt him tense beside her. “But if you think that’s what’s happening, then we won’t look at you.”

Danny grabbed his hair tight in his hands as he shook in a huddle on the floor. How was he going to do this? Never look at anyone he ever cared about again? Make sure they never looked at him? What kind of life would that be? He couldn’t live like that, with that paranoia that some day one of them would mess up and they’d meet his gaze and then he would know how much longer he had left to spend with them. His breathing quickened again as he found himself spiraling further down into his panic, down into a depth of foreboding terror that he didn’t know if he could climb out of again.

“Okay but Danny, even if you aren’t looking at anyone, I need you to breathe okay?” Sam pleaded. “Just breathe with me. In and out slowly. In and out.”

He did as he was told because he didn’t really have it in him to argue. In and out, in and out. He took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth like Jazz taught him. It probably didn’t help that he was still curled up in a ball and didn’t have great air circulation, but he didn’t dare uncurl.

“Okay, good,” Sam praised as she finished sending an urgent text. “Now let’s figure out what’s going on, because we will figure it out.”

“You mean figure out why I can tell when people are going to die?” Danny snapped.

“Yes,” Sam replied, voice calm despite Danny’s barbed tone. 

“...I don’t know if this is the right time, but there probably isn’t a right time so I’m just gonna say it,” Tucker sighed. “Danny, we noticed something weird earlier. It would only happen for a second, but it was like your face was covered by…like a translucent skull.”

Danny looked up but immediately thought better of it and ducked his head back down again. “A what?!”

“A skull. We didn’t know what it meant at the time–”

“We still don’t know what it means,” Sam added.

“--but it has to be related,” Tucker finished.

“This has to be more than a new ghost power,” Sam brainstormed. “This feels like something more significant.”

“More significant? What the hell does that mean?” Danny rebuked. He knew they were just trying to help, but honestly without an answer it was just making him feel more anxious and overwhelmed. He didn’t know if he could handle something more significant than being a half-dead, ghost-fighting freak.

“We don’t know,” Sam said, controlled and patient. “But we’ll figure this out Danny, we promise, just like we’ve figured out everything else.”

Everything else. Because there was always something. There was always some other side effect of the accident that all of them had to keep dealing with. Ghost powers, ghost fighting, his parents, new powers, a secret identity, ice powers, and now this. When was he done? When would he finally stop having more and more piled on top of his already overflowing mind? How much was a teenager expected to shoulder before he finally just buckled under the crushing weight of it all?

Apparently it would be one more thing.

He gasped as the cold breath escaped from his throat. He deflated a bit into his self hug. He knew the quiet afternoon was too good to be true. He knew it.

“Danny, you don’t have to go,” Sam mentioned, almost pleading.

“You know I have to,” he sighed with hollow defeat.

“No, you don’t. Let your parents get it, or Valerie. It doesn’t have to be you right now,” she begged.

“They never handle it well,” Danny argued as he stood but kept his gaze on the floor.

Sam shook her head, prepared to put her foot down. “But Danny, you literally just stopped having a panic attack, do you think now is the right time to do this? Maybe you just need to think about yourself for a bit!”

“When do I ever get to think about myself?” he barbed as he transformed. “Besides, a ghost can’t tell me how long they have to live, right? Sounds like I’m safer with one of them.”

Before they could argue with him he shot off into the sky, leaving a cloud of dread behind him. Tucker and Sam exchanged meaningful glances. 

“Follow him?” Tucker checked.

“Absolutely follow him.”

~*~

As yet another ectoblast grazed Danny’s side, he realized Tucker and Sam had maybe been right about letting someone else handle this. His head was not in the game. He couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that swirled around him and it made the fight against the ghostly crow that much harder to focus on. His newfound popularity also proved to be a complication as it led to more onlookers watching the fight. He couldn’t help but meet the eyes of people in the crowd, and every time he listened to their own voices toll their own death knell, he found himself wide open to a hit from the annoying ghost that honestly wouldn’t have been that much of a challenge otherwise. 

"Three hundred and twenty-one days, thirteen hours.”

He squeezed his eyes tight as he tried not to internalize how little time the concerned woman who looked his way had left, but closing his eyes during a fight was never a good idea.

“Danny!” he heard Sam yell, her voice distant but urgent.

He opened his eyes and saw the crow barreling in to charge with glowing talons ready to claw out his eyes. He immediately acted on instinct and threw out his hands to maybe summon a shield or take the talons to his arms or something.

He felt something cold and heavy fall into his hands, and he swung it without even looking at it too closely. A thin line of green slashed across the ghost and then it vanished. His overzealous slash continued through the brick of a nearby building that weathered and aged as decay seeped out from the fine line in the brick. When the arc of his swing stopped, he finally looked at what he held in his hands.

A scythe. Long and slender, the curved blade made a full crescent as it tapered into a neat, sharp point. The edge of the blade glowed with a faint green light, but it almost hurt to register: like its presence cut through the very existence of what his mind could accept as real. It looked so simple in his arms, and yet it felt dangerous. Deadly.

He stared dumbfounded at the blade in his hands. It felt heavy in his arms, but not because of its actual weight. It actually felt too easy and natural to swing. His fingers gripped around the shaft like he was meant to hold it. It felt so right and natural in his arms, and that scared him even more.

He immediately dropped it, but instead of hearing it clatter to the ground, it vanished into shadows as the absolute black swallowed it.

With panic etched all over his face, he looked desperately towards Sam’s voice, but only after he remembered that he didn’t dare look towards his friends. He dropped his gaze, but they understood his intent and rushed over to him.

“Danny, Danny are you okay?” Sam asked as she grabbed her friend’s arm.

“No…no I don’t think so,” he admitted. As hard as it felt to admit, he wasn’t well. He had no idea what the hell was happening, but he just knew none of this could be good. A sense of dread lingered around him that he couldn’t shake. A whisper of an answer tickled at the edges of his mind, but it was so cloaked in fear and terror that he didn’t dare even acknowledge its presence.

Sam nodded morosely and squeezed his arm. “That’s okay. We’ve got this Danny. C’mon, let’s get to my house. I think I know what’s going on.”

~*~

Danny sat in his favorite chair in the Manson library. Most of the room felt like something out of a middle-aged woman’s Pinterest page: a million shades of beige accented by a few plants or vines. Some books even had their spines facing the wall because their binding was too colorful. Sam managed to carve out a corner for herself. She separated this corner out with deep red curtains and inside its sanctuary she kept all her books (spines proudly out, thank you very much) on black shelves. Gothic sconces of wrought iron glowed with just enough mood lighting to read by and plush wine red chairs provided the perfect getaway to crawl into with a book. 

One of those chairs sucked him up inside its cushions and he let the weight of the fabric surround him. Sitting here with the dark mood lighting while Sam read aloud some new book or poem always felt like a comfortable space. Maybe Sam hoped the familiarity would bring some comfort to him right now, but even its power couldn’t counteract the horrible twisting in the pit of his stomach.

His friends swore they wouldn’t look at his face and would focus on his chest instead, but he still didn’t feel comfortable looking anywhere but at his wringing hands in his lap, just in case. He’d heard about too much death already today: too many times that seemed far too short for the nice faces that seemed burned into his mind. He had no idea who these people were and probably would never see them again, but he would forever remember their faces and would never be free of the knowledge of their death.

Would it be quick? Slow? Painful? Could he stop it? Could he save them? If he remembered their faces could he hunt them down and try to save them? Maybe not the ones in decades, but the ones who would be dying in the next few months? Could he help them so they didn’t end up like the old man on the street who died before his eyes while he was powerless to stop it?

The thump of a large book on a table shook him out of his thoughts as Sam stood near the small round table. “You’re not gonna like this, but I think I found the answer.”

That certainly caught his attention and he looked towards the book. Whether he’d like the answer or not, he needed to know. The heavy old tome looked like every Victorian book that Sam loved to collect, with a dark binding, embossed edges, and thick block lettering for the title.

The Tome of Record for the Myths and Legends of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

No. 

No, that couldn’t be the right book. That was not the answer.

He shook his head and backed up in his chair as far away from the book as he could physically get. “No. That’s not the right book.”

Sam approached both Danny and the book gently, like any sudden movement would spook him. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I know I’m right about this.”

Tucker leaned in from his chair and his eyes grew wide. “Wait, apocalypse? Sam you’re serious?”

“No, she’s not serious because she’s wrong!” Danny insisted.

Sam slowly opened the book and turned to a page marked with a dark black ribbon. “Just look at it Danny. It explains a lot.”

Against his better judgment he peeked at the new chapter: “The Fourth Horseman: Death.” He didn’t let himself read any more, but the haunting image of a black-cloaked figure atop a skeletal horse with a skull for a face and a very familiar looking scythe froze him in his seat.

The death knells. The skull. The scythe. 

No, just because it made sense, that didn’t mean anything. Lots of things in this world made sense without actually being right, and this was just another one of those things. It didn’t mean that he– He couldn’t possibly be–

Tucker trailed a finger along the text of the book as he read, his mouth and eyes falling agape. “Wait Sam are you…are you trying to say that Danny is…Death? Like the Death?”

He felt an irrational anger towards Tucker for putting into physical words what his mind refused to acknowledge. Because it was crazy…right? Some crazy, wacky theory. This couldn’t be reality, it just…it couldn’t be.

Sam nodded solemnly. “I am. I don’t know why, but Danny has somehow become the personification of Death.”

For some reason the finality in Sam’s voice forced him to really hear it. As much as he wanted to deny it, the nagging whisper always there on the periphery of his mind had been trying to tell him the whole time. He knew it from the first countdown, but refused to see it. He knew what the symbolism of the scythe meant, but he refused to connect it. And he knew that all of these pieces only added up to one possible explanation. Just like Sam, he’d already reached the same conclusion, but he just refused to see it. He couldn’t avoid it anymore.

He was Death.

He needed to get away from the book, the picture, the proof. He didn’t want to see it anymore. He fell through the chair, momentarily grateful to have some kind of physical barrier between him and the book, but the piercing, empty eyes of the skull on the page followed him even through the chair. He scrambled back along the floor until he hit the bookcase behind him. 

“No no no I don’t want this! I don’t want this!” he screamed in ever increasing levels of panic. He looked at his shaking hands, almost expecting to see bony hands stretching out instead of his normal skin. He grabbed at his face, his arms, anything to make sure that he hadn’t turned into some skeleton. “I can’t–I don’t want to be Death!”

Sam and Tucker rushed over to his side and pulled his trembling body into a hug. They tried to bestow him with whatever comfort they could, but they knew it wouldn’t be enough. Just like they did when Danny first emerged from the portal, they were at a loss for what they could do and they just tried to be a physical support for him.

Danny grabbed onto his friends desperately as he shook in their arms. He didn’t know how much he needed their reassuring strength and strong hug until he found himself in their arms. Maybe he relied on them too much for emotional stability, but something about their presence served as a grounding force for him and he needed that now more than ever.

“We’ll figure it out Danny,” Sam tried to assure him. “We always do.”

They did always figure it out. The accident, the ghost powers, the ghost fighting, the secret identity, Pariah Dark, Vlad, his horrifying potential future - they’d found a way to make it through everything that his strange life had thrown at him. It stood to reason they could make it through this too, but for some reason this seemed so much more imposing than all those other obstacles.

The personification of death. What did that even mean? Did he have to reap souls? Was he actually the one responsible for killing people? Was he now to blame for everyone’s deaths? Did he have to help people cross over or find peace or meaning in their lives? Could he still live his normal human life? He’d already been neglecting it so much because of ghost fighting, but would this completely eclipse everything else? It felt like such a huge burden to throw onto his already overburdened shoulders, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to keep it all up.

But even more than a burden, being Death pushed him even closer to the dark stench of death that always seemed to swirl around him. He already straddled a very fine line between life and death, and while he didn’t always know where he found himself on either side of it, he cherished the balance. He liked being reminded that he was still alive. He died, and he was a ghost, but he was so much more than that too. His heart beat, he kept growing - he still had a life. He needed those reminders to stay sane. But being Death…it pushed him so much further towards that darker side. It disrupted that balance that he held onto so desperately. Those reminders of life seemed so much further away, like they could be snatched away from him at any moment, and he didn’t want to think where that constant focus on death and loss would take him.

He couldn’t keep dwelling on this. He was a boy of action, and he never did well just thinking through things. Maybe that helped Jazz, but he needed to do something. Figure this out, get rid of it, something. So he pulled away from the hug slightly, enough of a signal for his friends to release the warm group hug. He missed that comfort immediately, but he couldn’t stay huddled up against the bookshelf forever.

“How did this happen?” he croaked. Trying to find a reason meant that he had to accept it as the truth, and that hurt, but he’d already accepted it. Now he just had to get rid of it.

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted. “But Danny, we have a much more pressing issue than how.”

“More pressing than this?” Danny questioned, almost hurt that his internal turmoil and need to solve this wasn’t considered a pressing issue.

“Yeah, because it gets worse.”

Panic clenched around his heart again. How could it possibly get worse? This already seemed like a destitute situation with no possible solution on the horizon.

“Worse than Danny having death powers?” Tucker inquired. Well at least Tucker was on the same wavelength.

She nodded morosely. She took a deep breath, but as she slowly breathed out she straightened up, her brow resolute. “The summoning of the fourth horseman…it’s the final sign. The apocalypse is coming, and Danny’s going to be forced to make it happen.”

~*~

I hope you all enjoyed this! It's a little late of a submission for Ectober's Day 17 Gothic Horror prompt, but apparently world-building a multi-chapter longfic took a lot longer than I expected. But I'm excited to share some of my lore behind this ghostly version of the four horsemen over the next two chapters!