#now that i answered the asks about them too nobody can see how long i sat on them either hehe

[the-travelling-witch]

Holly expect way more love and ask on those ocs of yours now

i’m so okay with that!! i mean that’s what they’re here for after all~

[luveline]

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 

“Did you call them?” 

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 

“We really don’t have time to waste.” 

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!” 

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 

“No,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 

“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 

“Don’t know,” you mumble. 

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I understand.” 

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 

[velvetwyrme]

which deception would have an sti AND fuck cars?

in reference to: https://www.tumblr.com/penny-anna/767952128217104384/imagine-youre-a-mechanic-in-the-transformers?source=share

okay. so. first off. anon, thank you for sending me this because the idea that you read that post and just went- "hey, you know who i should pose this question to?" and sent it to me- is hysterical and i lvoe u.

anyway theres also a Texty answer under the cut if you want to read that, because i genuinely DO have thoughts about this, but i wanted to draw that comic because this ask made me laugh very hard when i saw it in my inbox.

also, the thrilling conclusion of the comic answer:

he fucked that car!!!!!!!

hi! Texty time. I think a lot of them would have/be one but not the other (either has a STI or is a Carfucker) but i included some of those here anyway because i think my thought process was funny for some of them. this is all purely my own opinions etc. etc. no basis for anything only vibes. i went through a lot of options and came to a lot of conclusions.

to reiterate the Chart for claritys sake:

Soundwave: No STI and no Carfucking. This is true across all versions of Soundwave imo. Rumble and Frenzy are a solid no on the STI front and a solid yes on the Carfucking.

Starscream: no STI, no Carfucking (despite what Soundwave thinks). TFP!Starscream specifically might have an STI though. Sorry man. Skywarp definitely has/had a STI but gets it treated on account of his trinemates. No Carfucking. Thundercracker would fuck a car but doesn't have an STI.

Shockwave: ??? - I'm not sure I want to know. "Once, as part of an experiment" was the original thing I wrote for his answer lol. True across continuities as well.

Anyway. moving on...

My actual answer for Megatron: REALLY depends on continuity. Here's a sample:

G1? Yeah, probably both. I can see it.

IDW/MTMTE? Nah. Maybe? ... Nah. I feel like if he had an STI it'd have been back when he was a miner. Would not fuck a car.

Earthspark? I feel like no STI but yes to the Carfucking. Except he feels really guilty about it after. I still haven't watched ES but this is the impression I get from him.

TFA? oh god. i don't know... i don't know....... he probably fucks cars. No STI.

TFP? Yeah absolutely are u kidding me? Yes to both.

Constructicons: I feel like they'd be a yes to both, but not at the same time, so they wouldn't have been the one/s to transmit a STI to a car. Also Hook would be ON TOP of treatment. Once they ALL got infected after combining into Devastator, and that was miserable for everyone. Nobody has fessed up to being the one who had it in the first place, but now they have treatment on hand just in case.

Also while on the topic of combiners... I think some of the Stunticons are also pretty good candidates for STI/Carfucking. Motormaster, Drag Strip and Wildrider in particular shfkgbekfbk

I considered Tarn/The DJD and Overlord just because of how freaky them guys can get, but I think Tarn runs too tight a ship for that to happen, and Overlord is preoccupied with. worse things. The Scavengers on the other hand... sorry to Misfire, I can see him giving a car a STI. Relatedly, Grimlock would fuck a car but not have an STI.

Who else................................ wait.

Astrotrain. I can see it. Okay bye im going to sleep this took me too long to reply to fhfjfbrmfbdj

[pinkmirth]

KEEPER!

SYNOPSIS! ⸻ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?

CONTAINS⸻ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

MY LOVE LETTER! ⸻ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎

reiner’s your bulking shadow, never trailing too far behind.

he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.

things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.

nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?

it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.

before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.

‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.

reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.

what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.

“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”

you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.

“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”

you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.

reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.

eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.

you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.

but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .

reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.

he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.

you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.

so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.

your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.

it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.

you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.

“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .

he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.

“reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.

“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.

“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”

“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”

“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”

right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.

see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.

upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.

upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.

it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.

you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?

the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.

“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.

“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”

in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.

“oh, please do.”

being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.

there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”

“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .

“you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.

mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.

“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.

experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.

“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.

“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.

“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.

by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.

reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.

as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.

“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.

“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.

you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.

“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.

he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.

“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.

reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”

not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.

he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.

“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.

“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.

“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.

“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.

reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.

“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.

“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.

“yes, tonight, rei!”

he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—

“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”

©PINKMIRTH! . . . all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ୨୧

[amomentsescape]

Slashers x secret admirer!reader.

How would they react to all the small gifts left for them? Would they track the person down? Would they confront them? Would they stalk them? How would the slashers react if the gifts stopped for a period of time?

Slashers with a Secret Admirer

Slashers x Secret Admirer! Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

Freddy Krueger

Oh, he knows

There isn't a way for you to be discreet when he can literally enter your mind every night

That's how the admiration started for you in the first place

Seeing him there, taunting you in such a creepy and yet powerful way

Something drew you in

And the feeling is mutual

I mean, why else hadn't he killed you yet?

He keeps his eye on you whenever he can, sometimes ensuring your dreams are happy and not all nightmares

Some are still terrifying though

He knows you like the thrill

You've tried to surprise him with gifts and letters a couple times, but he knows about them before he even receives them

You really can't keep anything from this guy

And don't even think about taking anything back

You started this whole "game" between you two

There's no way out now

Michael Myers

He immediately assumes the worst

The moment he sees the gifts and letters left for him, he quickly believes that someone is out to get him

You're trying to play mind games with him, but it won't work

Nobody will ever best Michael

He watches you for a while, plotting his moves carefully and thinking of the best way to get back at you for your taunting

There really wasn't anything about your gifts that seemed threatening to him

In fact, he quite liked a couple of the things you gifted him

Well, as much as Michael could like something other than killing

And this is partly what angered him so much

How on earth could you know him well enough to gift him such items?

He was going to get answers one way or another

And it was going to be soon

Jason Voorhees

He's honestly just baffled

How did you even find him in the middle of nowhere?

And even worse: what were you plotting?

No one has ever shown him kindness before besides his mother

This type of attention is so foreign to him that he just assumes you have the wrong person

This was all just some weird accident

But he's happy to play pretend for a while

And if the gifts suddenly stop, he can't help but feel disappointed

You must have finally figured out that he wasn't the one you were trying to impress

He won't be the type to try and figure out who you were

It all just seemed too sweet to be real, and he just wanted to play into the fantasy for a while

It was nice while it lasted

Thomas Hewitt

He quickly guesses that this is just some poor joke being played by someone in the family

No one comes out here

If they do, they're dead

And if a person was really wanting to surprise someone, there was no way he would be that someone

But after days of keeping his eye out, none of his family seemed to be acting suspicious

So this is just odd

He goes on and lets the gifts keep coming

It honestly gives him something to look forward to each week

But after a while, he becomes too curious on who you are

So he does what he does best: he sets a trap

Nothing to hurt you, but he just has to know who this secret admirer is

He doesn't want to go another day without feeling this level of kindness ever again

Bubba Sawyer

A gift? For him?

This has to be Christmas, right?

He prances around the house every single time, flaunting whatever new item you sent his way

He truly believes that you must be his guardian angel looking out for him

That's the only explanation

But as many know, Bubba isn't very patient

If he's craving something sweet, he immediately takes the candy, no questions asked

So don't expect to be a secret for very long

He's going to do whatever it takes to "catch" you

That way, the gifts and fun will never end!

You sort of dug yourself into a whole with this

But don't worry

He'll treat you just as sweetly

Brahms Heelshire

He doesn't react as badly as one might think right away

He just assumes the gifts are from his parents

But after receiving his first letter, he realizes this is more romantic in nature

And this is quite a dangerous game you're playing

Since he immediately becomes obsessed

He'll kindly play this game with you

He'll leave the doll near the main window, coaxing you to come take a deeper look

He'll start to leave the door unlocked or a window cracked open in hopes you'll be tempted to take a trip inside

But unfortunately, Brahms is as shallow as he is dangerous

If you are a beauty, he will gladly whisk you away into his home

But if you aren't what he pictured you to be, he will dispose of you

You've created this idealistic image in his mind, and he needs it to be perfect

Norman Bates

He probably reacts the most "normal" out of anyone else

He's surprised of course, but he happily takes the gifts and finds a little drawer at home to keep them

He likes to pull them out whenever he is feeling down

With how shy he is, he won't be the one to step up and try to confront you or figure out who you are

He kind of likes the mystery

Although, he does hope one of these times you will finally reveal who you are to him

If the gifts suddenly stop, Norman will become a lot more upset than he could have predicted

It can be so lonely where he is, and he finally thought maybe he was making an actual connection with someone

He may make a trip to the nearest town in order to people-watch for a while

He secretly hopes there will be some sign that will make you known to him, but that's clearly wishful thinking

Billy Loomis

He's flattered, don't get him wrong, but you are certainly not the first nor the last to admire him from afar

He's gotten several secret admirers in his day

I mean, look at him

He'll gladly take your gifts or letters with pride, but they'll likely get thrown in with all the other trinkets he's gathered over the years

If the gifts suddenly stop however, he'll act like it doesn't phase him at all

But he becomes curious on why you stopped

And this curiosity soon becomes obsession

Every killing he goes on, he'll raid the house, trying to find any sign on who his secret admirer is

Why would you stop? What's wrong with him?

The questions are enough to drive him insane

Stu Macher

Almost anyone can tell something has changed with Stu

He holds his head a little higher, smiles a little wider, and talks a little louder

He walks around school with his eyes peered, hoping that eye contact will be enough to figure out who his secret admirer is

But when he's not at school, he's making a list on any person he thinks it could be

He makes sure to convince Billy to hit those people's houses first during their "nights out"

He may even go as far as interrogating all of his victims, eventually killing them when he realizes they know nothing about his secret admirer

But he shakes this off quickly

He has full faith that he'll learn who you are

There's only so many houses in Woodsboro after all

Vincent Sinclair

He's honestly completely in awe at this situation

It had always been Bo who had the secret admirers

People have been fawning over his brother since they were younger, but now he's the one being sought after?

This can't be real

He does his best to keep all of this from his brothers

He's worried that them finding out will ruin the whole thing somehow

And he truly loves how it feels to be wanted

If the gifts stop at any point, he'll be devastated

He won't go as far as to seek you out

But he will certainly mourn you and your attention

He knew it was too good to be true

Bo Sinclair

Similar to Billy, this isn't his first rodeo

But unlike him, he's not as kind about the situation

Your gifts are disposed of as quickly as they are received

It's not that he isn't appreciative, it's just that he seeks confidence and hates games

If you're interested in him, then why not just step up and make a move in person?

If you're not willing to do that, then it's mostly a waste of his time

If the gifts keep coming, he'll eventually hit a point where he becomes annoyed

He'll break the gifts and trash them right outside the door, leaving them there in hopes you'll take the hint

And if you do, then he's satisfied

He doesn't need the attention because he knows he can get whoever he wishes

He doesn't have time for silly teenage games

[taeyongdoyoung]

enjoy the silence

summary: your usually quiet self becomes unusually loud around your boyfriend so you want him to make you shut up 👀 pairing: chan x reader genre: smut with hints of angst warnings: silence kink, insecurities, swearing, healthy communication 🥰 belt, fingering, eating out, overstimulation, piv sex, safeword used, pre-discussed scenario, dirty talk, pet names, kissing, overthinking, they're just idiots in love, your honour 😔 word count: 1.5k

You are generally perceived as the "quiet one" among your friends. Always the listener, never the talker. Honestly, you are more than okay with it. Most of the time, you can't think of a funny or interesting thing to say so you keep to yourself. And you genuinely enjoy hearing about your loved ones' days, even if you are not the best at responding with something witty. Some of them say one of the things that they like about you is that you don't give unnecessary advice but offer your support which is more than enough in certain situations.

All of that changes when you meet Chan. He makes you feel so comfortable that you open up without realizing. Sometimes you would babble for hours and he would let you. In most contexts, you would overthink your answer and end up not saying anything. But when you are with him, you don't have to think. You just freely say whatever is on your mind and are met with acceptance. It is like he unlocked a new part of you that you didn't even know existed.

One evening, you are out having dinner with Chan, and you are excitedly telling him about what you did today, what you ate, where you went, what outfit you wore and all the silly details you normally keep inside. He smiles at you adoringly, adding "Really?" and "That sounds nice" every now and then.

You are genuinely having a lovely time when you overhear a remark coming from the table nearby.

"Ugh, does that woman ever shut up? That poor guy..."

"I know, right? Must be so annoying..."

You immediately stop talking and gulp nervously. They must be talking about you. Were you really that loud?

"Let's go home," you say in a quiet voice.

Chan doesn't question it, he just gets the bill and you two make your way out of the restaurant. He drives you home in complete silence and when you are inside the apartment, he finally breaks the quiet spell.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? You didn't even finish your meal..."

"N-nothing, I'm f-fine," you try to lie but your voice breaks.

"Tell me, please," Chan urges you to trust him with your concerns.

"Channie, do I talk too much?" you ask.

"Oh, so you heard those assholes, as well..."

"So...do I?"

"I seriously love hearing you talk, okay? I've seen how quiet you get around your friends and I am glad you feel safe enough to share all these stuff with me. And to be fair, it's kind of a relief, after a long day of me doing a lot of talking, I get to listen to you. These people at the restaurant were just jealous that no one wants to hear their nasty voices."

That makes you laugh and you bury your head in his chest, enveloping him in a hug.

"Don't you ever get tired? Don't you wish to shut me up?" you want to know.

"Where is this coming from? Forget about these fuckers..."

"Not in general. Don't you want to make me stop talking in bed?" you suggest boldly.

"Oh. It hasn't crossed my mind. Is that something you'd like to explore?"

"As long as it's with you, yes."

"With nobody else?" Chan runs a finger across your cheek.

"Nope, never," you admit.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about that."

Chan looks really tired from work and you probably shouldn't push his buttons right now of all times. But you really want to see him snap. Empowered by your previous discussions of this particular scenario, you decide to give it a shot. If he's not in the mood, you'll just drop it and let him rest. But if he's in...may the universe have mercy on you.

"So I told her, no, I don't want to get drinks for everyone, Susan, 'cause you never pay me back and you always treat me like a minion and then she said-"

Chan sighs deeply because you've told this story like three times already but doesn't interrupt you. Okay, he really appears exhausted, maybe this was a terrible idea.

"Tell me to shut up," you beg him at this point.

"Huh?" he blinks somewhat confused.

"I'm obviously being super loud and you're tired. So, make me shut up and take it out on me. Please?"

Realizing where you're going with this, Chan nods and the exhaustion suddenly disappears from his eyes. His gaze is now on fire as he squishes your cheeks with one hand and pushes you against the wall.

"As long you're begging," he smirks cruelly and kisses you.

Oh dear. He's never kissed you like this, so roughly and fervently, teeth clashing against yours, biting your lips until it hurts. You cannot speak even if you wanted to, which you don't. Completely losing yourself to the feeling, you let him do as he pleases.

Chan grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the bedroom. He pins you under him on the bed and starts talking.

"Always so fuckin' loud, huh?"

You shake your head in disagreement. You can be quiet if he wants you to. You'd do anything if it makes him happy.

"Got nothing to say all of a sudden?" Chan teases you and starts taking off your clothes.

You lick your own lips hesitantly but don't dare say a word. Seeing him like this is so unexpected but you can't get enough of it.

"What got you so shy, hm? I thought you loved yapping to me. All. Day. Long."

The way he enunciates each word would make anyone else think he was genuinely annoyed by it. But you know your Channie. You know that he wouldn't hurt you. Not unless you asked him to.

"Talk to me, baby, yeah? Why aren't you saying anything?" he asks while he's unbuckling his belt.

You refuse to speak and he takes it as a sign to continue. He smacks the bed with his belt and the action is so startling you unvoluntarily flinch as if you were the one hit.

"Are you going to speak or do you want me to force the words out of you?"

Oh, so he's going to use your own weapon against you? Very well, then. Two can play at that game. Let's see who folds first.

Chan takes the task very seriously and does everything he can think of to make you talk again.

"Come on, sweetheart, doesn't this feel good?" he keeps asking as his big fingers stretch you out deliciously. Yes, it feels amazing, but you are so stubborn you say nothing.

"Not even a moan? You're crazy," he laughs but doesn't give up.

He eats you out longer than you've ever thought humanly possible, making you cum over and over again. But you still hold on, fingers gripping the sheets and teeth biting the inside of your cheek.

"Was this okay?" Chan needs to know and you swear you see his eyes watering with emotion, begging to be praised for his otherworldly skills, but not even that can make you speak.

You give him a noncomittal nod, which obviously makes him even more competitive.

Finally, he thrusts into you so deeply, so overwhelmingly that it takes every ounce of willpower for you to not break. His hard cock inside you, his strong arms wrapped around you, his smooth voice talking to you, his beautiful eyes gazing at yours. It's too much, yet never enough. You want to tell him so many things. How much he means to you, how grateful you are for him, how happy he makes you, how-

"Be honest, do you hate me?" Chan interrupts your affectionate thoughts out of nowhere.

Huh? Where the fuck is this coming from?

"P-pineapple," you break your silence by saying the pre-established safeword because there is no way you could continue enjoying yourself and each other without unpacking this.

Oh, no. Chan just wanted to hear you speak again, but not like this.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he immediately asks in concern and stops his movements.

"Did you hurt me?" you answer sarcastically. "Did I hurt you? Why would you ask me if I hate you while literally inside of me, are you serious right now?"

"I was just wondering," he pouts adorably, "you weren't talking to me for so long, I thought you were mad at me or something."

"I wasn't speaking because that was part of the scenario we talked about! Of course, I love you, you big idiot! How could you possibly ask that?"

Chan smiles fondly and gives you a soft kiss.

"I love you, too," he giggles. "So, you're not hurt? We can keep going?"

"No, I'm fine. Yes, we can, I just said the safeword because I can't have you thinking I hate you under no circumstances. You're everything to me, okay?"

"Okay," Chan agrees easily. "But can I ask for something?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Please never shut up for real, baby. No matter how tired I may look, I love hearing about your day."

"I know. The same goes for you, yeah? You don't have to keep everything in, alright? I'll always listen to you. Whenever and whatever you want to say, I'm here for you."

"Oh, really? You'll be my good girl and listen? You'd do what I like?" Chan raises an eyebrow and you long to see what kind of demon you've unleashed.

"For you? I'd do anything," you promise.

"Then no more silence. I wanna hear you scream for me."

The End

[teaboot]

While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.

Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.

If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.

This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.

As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:

"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."

"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."

"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."

"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."

"I must have been wrong."

This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:

"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"

"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."

"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"

Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.

You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.

The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:

Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.

A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.

Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.

Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.

The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:

Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.

Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.

Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.

Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.

Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)

Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)

I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.

I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".

('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)

[kaciebello]

Delivery fees

Slytherin boys x Hufflepuff! reader (use of she/her, no use of y/n) Masterlist Delivery Express ✿ Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts. Business opportunities arise and brands need to be made. warnings: mention cigarettes, nothing else really Authors note: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. I want to spread this into a one-shot series. Proofread by me and me only :( • Previously: Don’t shoot the messenger • Next part: Left on delivered Word count: 1262

Notes to deliver - 14

The group of boys was relaxing in the courtyard, some sitting on the uncomfortable stone benches, one individual was leaning against a tree that provided them shade and two more sat on the floor forming a semi-circle of their friend group. Nobody dares to approach the ‘ dangerous’ group of individuals for their own sake. Well, nobody but a certain Hufflepuff girl with a bright yellow bow in her hair.

Who, coincidentally, was making her way over to them. As fast as she appeared she sat down and made herself comfortable between her friend's legs who was sitting on a bench. A string of greetings could be heard from the group but the girl paid them no mind. She had business to take care of.

“ Hello, Sunshine. All good?” Asked Lorenzo leaning over the girl nested between his legs hoping to catch a glimpse of her face. She shook her head and dug out her trust notebook from her bag. “ I can't come up with a name.” she just says and ignores the stares the group gives her. Lorenzo gives up and just plays with the bow in her hair. 

“ Name for what?” Asks The boy leaning on the tree, Theodor. Now too, sitting down at the base of it. She looks up from her notebook with a sigh.

“Isn't it obvious? My delivery business. I can’t go nameless for long.”  Nods and hums of agreement sound from the boys yet no suggestion in sight so she continues.

“ I was going to name it Badger Express, but my muggle friends informed me that something called Panda Express exists and that they deliver Chinese food. I simply can not rival that.” She whines and crosses something out of her notebook.

“ You talk to muggles?” Asked Draco, seemingly offended by even being in the existence of the word. To his dismay no answer just a pencil is thrown his way.

“Royal Mail is also taken, so that's that one crossed out.”  A huff makes them all turn their heads to Blaise, making his eyes widen with all the attention.

“ Hogwarts express?” He suggests with a sheepish shoulder shrug.

“ You mean like the train that takes us here and back every year?” argues Mattheo on behalf of the girl.

“ What else was I supposed to say?” Snaps back Blaise.

“ A better idea” whispers Draco and some heads turn to him immediately. A laugh can be heard leaving Theodor as a playful argument breaks out between the boys. 

The girl just sighed and turned her head up to look at Lorenzo. “ Your friends lack creativity love, we shall find you new ones.” Lorenzo just nods wordlessly after observing them himself.

“ I think badger delivery could work nicely.” He suggests, the girl just nods, as this is as good as it’s gonna get from any of them.

“ The name does not matter right now. I have gotten complaints about the charge.” She announces effectively stopping the fight as all the heads turn to her. Confusion on their faces and pure despair of hers.

“ How much do you charge?” Asks Mattheo opening his cigarette packet and passing it over to Theodor. 

“ 5 galleons.”

“Pocket change.” Ignoring his remark and declining the cigarette Theo was offering to her.

“ I think I am going to charge depending on what they want. Because if I have to deliver one more love note dosed in amortentia my head will burst” She wonders aloud, not looking for an answer from them. Her hand searches for a pencil that now rests behind Malfoy's ear and immediately gives up when she notices its place.

” What does it smell like to you?” Asks her Theodor as if they were girls at a sleepover doing facemasks and sharing who their crushes are.

“Wouldn't you like to know.” She answers her eyes narrowing at the boy.

“ I bet I can guess who it smells like.” Says Mattheo with way more confidence than needed. A sigh leaves her, fully aware she can no longer stop teenage boy shenanigans. Wild-named queues are thrown into the circle as it looks more like a game of Guess Who at this point.

“ I guess it's one of us.” Answers Blaise who, in the meantime, managed to pull out a book and actually read some words. ‘ This tomfoolery…’ she whispered and leaned into her friend sitting behind her.

Silence falls upon the group, the sun decides to peek from behind the could blanket and expose them to direct sunlight for a few seconds. Lorenzo declines a cigarette from Matthew as he continues to play with the girl's hair. A little ‘aha’ from her breaks the silence and they all turn to her like lazy cats disturbed from their sunbathing.

“I can ask the twins if they wanna partner up!” She says with excitement, almost jumping from her spot with it.

“ The twins?” Asks Blaise.

“ Weasely Twins.” Scoff can be heard from the blond of the group before he lays down to soak up more of the sun, seeming not aware of what sunburn is.

“ No think about it, I can distribute their little trinkets and get some money from it! It's a brilliant idea!” The girl gets up and brushes her skirt with newfound determination. Few eyes followed her, some didn't even bother to pick up their gaze from a book or opening their eyes. 

Taking a few steps to the blond she snatches her pencil back before he even registers a shadow is now covering him. Packing her bags she hears her friend.

“ Why are you even doing this?” He asks with genuine curiosity.

“Money.”

“Why?”

“ Merlin, not everyone comes from old wizard money, Berkshire.”

“ You do tho.” Silence falls upon them again as the girl has no valid answer to the argument. Deciding to pack her bags instead when a few notes fall out of her bag.

“ You have something for us there, mail girl?” Asks Mattheo with a raised eyebrow and points to the notes. Frantic nods are her answer as she picks them up and starts distributing the right notes.

“ Each of you have one, well, not you Theodor you have two, for some reason.” She says.

“ Maybe I am just that popular with the ladies."

“ I don't know man, one was really pissed when she gave it to me.” His smile flatters a bit before returning to the smirk he normally wears.

Her friend forms a pout on his face and grabs her wrist from his sitting position. “ Nothing for me?” He asks.

“ Boy, you told me not to deliver you anything, the only notes you're getting from me are the ones I take in potions.” A smile spreads on his face and he lets go.

“Oi, sunshine. Do you think I can get those potions notes too-”

“Oh Is that Fred and George? I've got to go, bye!” She grabs her stuff and hurries to the ginger twin boys that heard her calling. An offended scoff can be heard from Blaise before the group remembers that they actually have potions homework and all scurry like mice in a hurry.

Notes to deliver - 9

[hysteria-things]

ok hear me out… matt or chris x reader and nate threesome😮‍💨😮‍💨

also (kinda) based off of this

EYES WIDE OPEN

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate, dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: nate tells his best friend about what you two did on prom night, and it ends up with him showing chris how it’s done.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, swearing, p in v, fingering, some praising/degrading, hair pulling, dumbification, ROUGHH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,634

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry it’s late please still love me🙏

“you do know i fucked her right?” nate tells chris, pointing to the bathroom door just down the hallway.

“what?” chris questions, crossing his legs and looking over to his best friend.

you’re fixing yourself up in the restroom, and somehow, the boys start discussing how you have the most obvious crush on chris.

chris’ brother nick is your best friend and you practically grew up with them. since you’re a year younger, you’ve gotten close with nate being that he’s the same age as you.

you went to prom together senior year of high school, but it wasn’t serious. it was as friends.

chris chuckles, darting his eyes around the room. he may or may not have wondering eyes for you too, but he can never act on it. he’s one of your best friends, for god sake. “when?”

smirking, nate gets comfier in his seat. “after prom. remember when i said i couldn’t come over because my mom needed me home? i lied.”

his mind wanders, thinking back to what you were like in his backseat.

the rain sounds soothing on the car windows. the parking lot is empty, with only one streetlight illuminating in the distance.

lips smacking together in need, you grind on nate’s now growing hard-on through his dress pants. his tie is untied, his blazer thrown to the front seat with some of his shirt buttons undone.

nate’s hands roam up and down your body, gripping your ass each time he brings them to that part of you. he then starts to unzip his pants, pulling them down past his thighs along with his underwear.

the fluffy area of your dress is bunched above your hips, giving you easy access to nate’s dick. when he starts to pull your underwear to the side, you pull away and whine. “it’s too big.”

he chuckles, holding your hips to guide you down. the expanse is painful, but you tilt your head and moan nonetheless.

you wrap your arms around his neck and start to rock your hips slowly, whimpering and whining each time you move forward.

“there you go, just like that. i knew you could take it.”

he snaps out of it and sighs. “you need to see it for yourself one day.” nate suggests, taking a sip of his water. “she’s a good fuck, man.”

chris looks at his friend like he’s insane. “why are you telling me this, dude?”

“because you need to get laid.” he points out.

chris scoffs. “i don’t need to get laid.”

nate crosses his arms and eyes him, seeing right through his bullshit. “when’s the last time you hooked up with a girl?”

staying silent, that gives him his answer. “exactly.”

the bathroom door shuts, the sound of your footsteps coming back to the living room. “sorry, guys. i didn’t mean to take so long.” you giggle, sitting back down next to nate. they both eye you up and down, and you feel a little— no. very intimidated.

“do you remember prom night?” nate asks out of the blue, your eyes widening slightly.

“of course.” you start. “it was fun. why?”

he and chris both get up, the atmosphere feeling closed in around your body when they both hover over you. you gulp.

“do you remember when i fucked you?” nate asks, and your face heats up instantly. chris is standing right there. nobody is supposed to know about what happened with you two that night.

“i need to show chris here what he’s missing out on.” he continues, nodding his head to the right where he’s standing. “want to help me out?”

before you can answer, he cups your cheeks and kisses you with passion, laying you down back flat on the couch. you pout when he pulls away to remove your shirt. chris is now standing by the far wall to watch.

why don’t you question it? you have no idea. why do you enjoy it? also no idea.

he takes off his shorts and top, throwing them on the ground before his knees dip into the sofa at your sides. without warning, he takes his fingers and places them into your bottoms.

nodding to silently prove his point, he turns to chris. “she’s wet already.”

he practically rips off your shorts as you squirm, feeling embarrassed before he starts to rub your clit with two of his digits. gasping, you throw your head back. he moves them in a circular motion. you start to pant when he changes up the movements, either going hard or slow. “nate.” you whine, clit getting red from the penetration.

he takes one of the fingers and starts pumping it deep inside you, the other one still where it was before. your body jerks each time he pumps his finger into your hole, eyes starting to cross and tongue just about escaping your lips. “see how those pretty eyes roll back?” he teases. “i’m barely doing anything and she’s becoming a dripping mess.”

chris swallowed when his boner tightened in his pants, eyes not leaving your face of pleasure. nate adds the second finger, moving faster and curling them to hit one of the spots you love.

you moan loudly, closing your legs before they’re forcefully opened. “look at your little crush getting hard at the sight of ya. wishing he was the one who got to you first instead of me.”

chris pouts, frantically pulling down his pants to start jerking off at the sight. he moans at the way you’re looking at him through hooded eyes not helping with his erection.

“i’m-i’m going to cum, nate.” you mewl, squealing when you say his name.

“oh yeah? you going to cum around my fingers to show chris what he can never do?” he mocks, chris rolling his eyes. you whimper out yeses as your eyelids start to well up with tears. you cry out different curses, legs quivering from the stimulation.

the moment your orgasm drips down his hand, he puts his arms under your armpits and grips your shoulders. he leans so his bare chest is touching yours. “if you’re lucky.” he starts, hammering into you with no warning whatsoever. you gasp, the way he’s positioned making him deeper than ever. “you can pull another one out of ‘em.”

you scratch at his biceps, moaning and yelping while your body rocks so hard that the couch starts to squeak. “nathan! you feel so g-good!” you scream, the knot already coming back.

“you missed this, didn’t you?”

“mhm!” your mouth hangs open, clenching so hard on his dick it’s like you can feel every vein. it’s embarrassing how fast the coil tightens in your abdomen. “i’m cumming! ngh— oh my god.”

clamping down like a vice on his cock, you shake violently at how much you cum. he pulls out, flipping you over onto your stomach and getting up. this gives you time to breathe.

“your turn.” he tells chris, who’s leaking pre-cum out of his slit.

your eyes widen, pushing yourself up before chris grabs your hips and pins them down. nate grasps onto your hair and forces you to look at him. “eyes better not leave mine, princess. i want to see how fucked dumb you get.”

you wince at how hard he pulled. “w-wait! it’s too mu—” your eyebrows furrow and your mouth agape when chris enters you with ease because of how wet and aroused you are, completely cutting you off.

since you’re laid flat, the angle he’s hitting is deeper than nate’s. hoarsely moaning, chris’ hips pound fast, your ass slapping against his thighs.

nate’s tip lands on your tongue, fucking it to get to his high since he wasn’t able to get to it when he was fucking you.

it takes a second for your cunt to morph into chris’s dick. you’re still dazed from before, but since you’re getting filled again, you’re practically brain-dead at this point.

“y-you’re so big! ah—” you whimper, and he smirks. nate rolls his eyes. “you hear that? the slut said i’m big.”

“shut up.” nate bites back, painting your face with his sticky cum, smearing it on your mouth and chin. “so beautiful.”

you fight for your life to not have your eyes roll back, moaning uncontrollably since it feels like you can’t speak anymore.

he moves hard, grunting each time you close in around him. man, he missed doing this with girls. your nails dig into the arm of the couch, still staring into nate’s dark eyes. your mouth moves as if it’s saying words, but nothing comes out. you’re blabbing nothing. “look at that. you’ve fucked her even more stupid. well done.”

chris sighs annoyingly, looking down at the way your pussy engulfs him. “i know how to fuck girls, nate.”

whimpering, the fabric of the cushion rubs gently against your clit, squeezing tight around him so that it catches him off guard. “cum.” you sob quietly. “i-i’m going to cum.”

that alone has him going at an animalistic pace, tears staining your cheeks. “you’re on the pill right?” he asks, twitching between your walls when he hits your g-spot.

you nod, releasing for the third time tonight as he starts to get to his orgasm. “thank fuck. i’m not pulling out of this perfect pussy.”

thrusting in one last time, he stops to shoot his load nice and good into your cunt. nate let’s go of your hair, your head immediately plopping over the edge.

he’s already dressed, and chris gets up to do the same. they look at each other, smirking. “we did good.” nate says.

“yes we did.” chris replies the both of them looking at how your face is coated with cum and how your folds flutter, leaking and making a mess below you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 8

Part 7

Shockingly, it turns out Danny knows how to cook. He's good at it, even, and when Tucker expresses his disbelief at the practiced way Danny moves in the kitchen Danny snorts.

“You know what the Fenton kitchen was like. When I got out of there and had access to food and kitchens that weren't biohazards, I learned eventually. I have a very distinct appreciation for good food nowadays, and I like being able to make it myself.”

He puts music on through a little Bluetooth speaker on the counter, invites them to participate, and they cook.

It's fun. They dance, they drink, they sample ingredients as they put their pizzas together. There's a minor flour war that sets off rounds of giggling and shrieking - more importantly it makes Danny cackle in a way she used to love and hasn't gotten to hear since they were teens.

It's exactly the same, and she missed it. Pure impish delight and mischief.

For as many things that are the same, there are ones that have changed.

Danny has a grace to him now that he didn't used to, and he moves near silently. He sways easily and elegantly to the music without thinking about it as they talk and make mischief with each other.

The oven and the adjusted thermostat make it much more comfortable in the apartment after a while, but Danny doesn't shed the pullover sweater he wears at any point. He didn't even roll the sleeves up to cook.

Come to think of it, when they entered high school he started doing that too. He wore long sleeves even in the summer - Sam tries not to think about abusive households or self harm. She hopes it's not that, but…

She puts the thoughts aside as well as she can.

Tucker had mentioned it before to her, but with all the grinning and laughing tonight Sam can see that he was right and Danny's teeth are sharper than she remembers. All four canine teeth are almost startlingly pointy.

She doesn't mention it. What she does mention is the apartment.

“This is a really nice place, Danny. You got a secret sugar daddy you haven't told us about?”

Tucker gapes at her and smacks her arm. Danny bluescreens for a moment before he snorts an ugly laugh and descends into near hysterics.

“Oh my God! Ancients, no! No, no sugar daddy. Just a well paying engineering gig lately, and some money I saved up before I left Amity. Holy shit, Sam.”

She shrugs, some tension she didn't know she was carrying leaving her shoulders. “Had to ask. Would have had a shovel talk to deliver.”

Danny starts laughing again, and Tucker groans and puts his head in his hands.

“I cannot believe you actually just asked him that,” Tucker moans.

“I can,” Danny responds with a chipper grin, Tucker's answering snort overlaid by the ding of the oven timer.

Danny knocks back the rest of his drink and waves in the vague direction of the living room area.

“I'll take this out and cut it. Go sit and we can eat it around the coffee table in case we want to watch a movie or something?”

The sitting area is spacious and comfortable, couches black leather. There's a heavy, fluffy white throw over the back of one that looks soft as all get out, but she and Tuck quickly decide to settle on the floor.

The coffee table is low enough that it's more convenient for reaching food and drinks set on it.

Tucker whistles appreciatively at the TV, so it must be a cutting edge new model. Fucking nerd.

Danny trots over not long after with two serving boards balanced precariously on one arm, his refilled sangria in one hand, the pitcher of sangria in the other and another beer held against his side by an awkward elbow.

Tucker and Sam both shoot to their feet to try and mitigate a disaster, but miraculously it all makes it to the table unharmed.

“It's almost like you guys don't trust me,” Danny pouts, his grin ruining it. “Careful, it's hot.”

“You are a perpetual accident waiting to happen,” Sam tells him scathingly, and he snorts with a peculiar look on his face.

“You don't know the half of it.”

As they all reach for slices of pizza, Danny takes them by surprise by taking a piece of Sam's, not Tucker's.

Tucker gapes at him. “Dude. Tell me you haven't betrayed me like that.”

Danny snorts, shoulders shaking with quiet chuckles. “Nah, I still eat meat. It's just sometimes I have spells where it kind of bothers me and I feel a little sick about it? I'm in one of those lately, but usually I'm still a huge burger and steak guy. Don't worry.”

“Huh. That's weird.”

Danny shrugs, taking a bite of his pizza despite his own warnings and cringing when it burns his mouth.

“Been like that since high school, actually. Used to be worse then,” he mumbles through his attempts to cool a mouthful of molten cheese.

Sam doesn't remember him ever having issues with it in middle school. She wonders what happened to change his outlook, but puts it aside. They're here to hang out and catch up. Have a good time. Not interrogate Danny.

They end up spending hours watching trashy TV and heckling the screen, making small talk and letting each other in on bits of their lives all the while. Everyone's well on their way to tipsy by the time they're done eating, though Danny a little more than Sam and Tuck.

He's loose-limbed and happy, sprawled across both of them in the haphazard pile they've ended up in. He seems incredibly content, and it does Sam's heart good to see him so relaxed.

She and Tucker are sitting with their backs against the couch, Danny's legs slung across Tucker's lap and head in Sam's. It's probably why he notices her shiver a little - it's still a little chilly in the apartment.

Lazily, he points up at the back of the couch. “You can pull that down and cover us if you want. It's really warm.”

Sam offers him a quiet thanks and reaches up to do just that, though she's startled to find that though the top is fluffy, the underside of what she'd thought was a throw is velvety and smooth. Like hide.

It's a real fur - hopefully ethically sourced. Decorated too, there are ornaments threaded into the corners and dangling that she can't pin the origin of. They're very pretty, shells and claws and beads.

As she pulls it down, she flips the edge up to peek at the underside and is startled to find the skin a distinct, familiar ectoplasmic green.

“Um. Danny. What kind of fur is this…?”

“Yeti,” Danny replies offhandedly, sipping his drink before freezing like the question and his own answer just caught up to him. “Uh.”

Masterpost

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

It's Inevitable

Prompt Day 4: Mistletoe | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Brief Period-Typical Homophobia | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, But Is The Town Pariah, First Kiss

The amount of eggnog Steve has requested they pick up is borderline insane. How many people is he expecting at his party tonight? Honestly. The line to checkout at the Big Buy is long, too long, and Eddie regrets offering to be the last minute errand boy.

Everybody's out in full-force stocking up for New Year's, and now it looks like he intends to drink his body weight in yellow sludge.

At least he forced Gareth into coming with him, so he isn't suffering alone.

Waiting for their turn to pay, there is a cardboard box floor display full of sprigs of mistletoe. Clearance priced and ready to move after Christmas. They've all seen better days, and are meant to be an impulse purchase to move them out the door, Unfortunately, Eddie falls for it, hook, line and sinker. He picks one up, and throws one in the top basket of the cart, and continues to wait as he glances at all the magazines, seeing what he can read for free while they're stuck in place.

"What's that for?" Gareth asks, picking up the mistletoe with two fingers, holding it outwards, like it might bite him. 

"The party," Eddie answers, "why are you acting like it's poisonous?"

"It is poisonous," Gareth answers, tossing it back into the cart, then brushes his hands against his jeans, like that will clean them, "Who are you trying to kill?"

"Sssh," Eddie hisses, looking around. It hasn't been long enough that he feels truly comfortable in town, and he definitely doesn't want killing associated with him any fucking longer. Jesus. He just wants to kiss someone. Is that too much to ask?

He doesn't think so.

"I just thought it might make the night interesting, that's all," Eddie finally answers.

"Interesting. Sure. Am I even invited to this party?" Gareth asks.

Eddie sighs, "Yes. You're invited where I'm invited, why do you keep asking that every damn time we do something with Steve?"

"He never talks to me. He only talks to you," Gareth grumbles.

"Do you want to talk to him?" Eddie asks.

"No, not really. But it might be nice to not feel invisible," he says, arms crossed, petulant.

Eddie will tell Steve to say hi or something, make the little shit happy.

The old man behind the register glares at him, which is par for the fucking course. He holds the mistletoe like Eddie is asking to use it on him, and Eddie has to bite his tongue to not be snarky, as the old asshole mumbles under his breath about Eddie being a freak, a queer, a murderer, and Eddie squeezes the handle of the cart. He's two of the three, but this asshole doesn't get to say so.

That's been the worst part of his reentry into society after barely surviving the court of public opinion. The scrutiny, the hatred, still so real that he doesn't feel comfortable being himself in town. He escaped being convicted for murders he didn't commit by the skin of his teeth, thanks to Hopper's miraculous resurrection. He knows that.

But being quiet, and non-reactive, when he feels wronged, is soul-crushing.

He doesn't snap at him, but Gareth does, and nobody is about to cast stones at Carolyn Jones' little boy, freak or not. They are part of the fabric of town, like Eddie never will be.

Gareth sassing him on Eddie's behalf is enough to not make Eddie feel so fucking kicked while he's down, and Eddie smiles as he hands over Steve Harrington's money. Knowing if the old coot knew that, he'd shit bricks.

Back at Harrington's house, Eddie pulls the small bundle out of the sack. It's stupid. He's aware it's stupid. But it gives him a chance, so he's gonna do it. 

"Is that mistletoe?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, funny, right?" 

"For sure, I wonder what weird pairings of people we can lure under there?"

There's only one weird pairing Eddie cares about, and they are both standing right here, right now.

"I don't know, but I'm sure Gareth would appreciate being set up under here with someone cute."

Eddie drags over one of the dining room chairs, and makes sure he takes off his shoes so Mrs. Harrington doesn't see shoeprints if she ever comes home.

"You got a pushpin?" Eddie asks, and Steve disappears to find one. When he turns back up, Eddie loops the ribbon through, and stands on his tiptoes.

He can't quite reach. Fucking vaulted ceilings in rich people houses.

Steve laughs, "Let me get the step ladder." 

Eddie stands there looking at the door frame.

Steve climbs the ladder, and takes the mistletoe from Eddie's hand. And Eddie watches as Steve stretches upwards, pressing the sharp end of the tack into the wood. A sliver of his hairy belly showing as his sweater rides up.

The sweater is red, and looks so soft. Eddie wants to touch it. Touch him.

Steve lowers his arms and then they're just looking at each other.

Steve breaks their eye contact, and comes down one step, readjusting his shirt.

Then they're eye-to-eye again, and Eddie swallows. Shit.

"Well, huh, would you look at that?" Steve says, so fucking smooth that Eddie misses his meaning.

"Look at what?" Eddie asks, because all he can look at is Steve.

"We're standing under mistletoe. Wonder how that got there?"

And then Steve's leaning forward, using his smooth fucking lines on Eddie, and all Eddie can think is that he really shouldn't be doing this off the ground. He's liable to fall and crack open his skull.

But Steve slides his arm over Eddie's shoulder, moving to both pull him closer and keep him secure, as Steve's lips press against Eddie's.

Holy shit.

Eddie kisses back, and hopes that this isn't just Steve being silly. Hoping that maybe this was a mutual good excuse to get this ball rolling.

The moment Steve's tongue touches Eddie's, he knows it isn't a joke.

It's inevitable.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🌿

[7ouls]

daisuke x fem reader where they’re both super awkward and swansea is tired of them being oblivious to the way they feel for eachother that he makes both of his interns work on a project together

omg i totally loved writing this even tho i hcent written in a while so it might look weird? im really sorry its been a long time… (and its pretty short sorry abt that) also swansea is probably a bit ooc (i think u say it like that? idk) cause i have really bad memory so sorry abt that too…

this is set before the crash

No matter how many times the two interns tried to communicate it would always end up being awkward since everyone but them knew about their obvious crush on each other.

Nobody cares enough to help them realise that, except their boss Swansea.

That shortly explains how the three of them are now repeating the bases of engineering.

“So is that clear?” The older man looked at the young adults as they nodded.

“Great, i don’t have to repeat myself for once. Now to see how much you’ve understood try to fix this.”

He said taking an old radio that sat behind him and handed them the needed tools. He then proceeded to leave but not before giving a smirk to his interns that blushed as a reaction.

Daisuke was the first to speak up. “I didn’t actually understand all of it.”

Y/n giggled at the boy and he soon joined too. “Don’t worry… I barely managed to take some notes. Swansea isn’t really the best teacher…”

“But we don’t really have much of a choice”

“Right, so here. You can read some of my notes and umm… i guess start working.” She said handing him her notebook. He started quietly reading all of it as the girl got slowly closer and closer to read with him.

After a while Daisuke stopped and thanked her, then realised how close she’s gotten to him. Y/n panicking apologised as she didn’t notice the close distance between them.

He quickly straightened himself. “No need to apologise! We’re supposed to work together so that eventually would’ve happened, not that i mind anyways…” He muttered the last part.

Y/n raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t question it. “We should get the work started now.” She said as he nodded happily.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It has been around two hours when the two finally ended their work and were now chatting.

“Sooo… would you be free after dinner tonight?” Daisuke asked nervously, Y/n blushed at the question then smiled. “I mean… there’s not much else to do so yes. Why do you ask?”

The boy grinned and answered. “Well, i’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now. Would you like to play on my gameboy with me? We can take turns! And then we can eat all the sweets that i have and stay up all night!” He exclaimed out of breath.

Y/n was surprised to hear the boy so excited and soon replied. “Sure, we can do that. We’ll just have to make sure to be quiet or else we’ll wake the captain up.” Daisuke happily nodded as he watched the girl get up and wave at him.

When she left he let put a puff of air he didn’t know he was holding. “Holy moly. She’s like super cool!”

i took the gameboy idea from a daisuke fanfic on here but i dont remember the tag. sorry this is kinda short as i said i have to get used to weiting it’s been like 2 years since i last did it. maybe i’ll write about that sleepover soemtime!! (i swear this looked longer whem i wrote it on my diary)

[babybratzmaraj]

When we getting yo spin on Aaron Pierre frenn 👀👀👀

the time has come. YOU SHALL BE BLESSED

Any Time, Any Place

Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond

You as Yourself

Summary: You just had to fuck around and find out on this one particular night, the same night you and Terry go out!

Warnings: Possessiveness up the ass, breeding kink if you squint, rough sex, size kink, established relationship, im missing some but my coochie is rawring.

A/N: Now listen, ik you asked this like 2-3 months ago, but i told you it was coming! megan! um i thank ms big bertha for helping me finish this, i owe her one😏

This man, this man is something else. You and Terry went to his former military friend’s homecoming party! The vibes were great and everyone was nice to you! even got a ‘I see you nephew’ from one of the older ones.

But something about his glare, his hands feeling on you in public and more sultry in private, his kisses on your cheek leaving you flustered, too flustered to even finish the conversation with some of his friends. But you managed, tonight was a good night! The vibes were good, the music was amazing, even got new shit to add to your playlist! Your hair was dyed, fried, and laid to the side, the curls bouncing with every move you took, and the wind having the right amount of umph to blow it correctly, felt like a Disney princess. Too much of a princess, it wasn’t long till you two were pulled up behind a family dollar with your legs in the air, his eyes looking like what boiling water would feel like.

The whole night he was giving you glares, was to warn you, the hands that traveled your body, were to warn them, the private kisses were to remind you, but you didn’t pick up on nothing, poor you, you didn’t know! You were just enjoying people being friendly.

“I’m sorry!” you managed to cry aloud, his hands at the perfect spot to hold you in place, the faint but still strong scent of Gin tainted his lip, his strokes matching the mighty smell.

“I bet you are ma, but I can’t have you being friendly to these niggas.” he said ever so sweetly, slowing his strokes to match his tone, the feeling of feeling him twitch inside you drove you mad, the kisses he gave you trailing onto your neck once you couldn’t keep contact.

“I wasn’t trying to be niceee,” you tried to plead your case with tears of pleasure stinging your eyes, threatening to fall but it’ll mix well with the sweat that ruined your hair, it wasn't the only reason though. “Then what were you?”

You attempted to answer his question, jarring your lips to fix up a sentence, but you were too slow.

Terry slammed into you continually, each and every slam and thrust he gave you found a new place to dig out. His eyebrows furrowed as he lingered for your answer, knowing good and Christ juice you couldn’t answer. this nigga was evil.

He slammed into you once more resulting in you screaming, staying still in an attempt to not cum inside you, but you just looked too exquisite at this angle, the soft white light emitting from above shined across your face, your eyebrows scrunched, and your mouth permanently ajar.

“You can scream but can't answer? I said,” he began to repeat, slowly rocking his hips into you. “I don't know!”

“At least you're honest, that shit ain't cutting it.” He told you, maintaining his pace exactly where and how it was. His tone is mean yet delicate, his eyes still burning into your skin leaving different patches of hotness until your whole body warms up again.

“This my pussy right?” You nodded, “And Nobody will ever get it right?” you nodded your head obediently, “And nobody’s gonna take what's mine?” his voice nearly going primal, his pace quickening at the idea of someone attempting to take what was his.

“Nooooo,” You slurred on your words, drunk off his loving, high off this moment, rolling your eyes back to see your own little sky with stars with a biggg shooting star as your orgasm washed through you, your body jerking around violently as Terry held you steady, giving you two more pumps before sliding out, leaning back to watch you melt further into the backseat.

When you came to, you looked down to see Terry slowly stroking himself, “Knees.” He commanded, your knees buckled as you could hardly move but you obeyed, perking your ass up in the air, teasing him a little.

His hefty hand landed on your cheek a few times, each time leaving a pleasurable sting behind. You heard him shuffle behind you, lining himself up with your entrance, swiping your pussy with his dick making you clench over nothing.

“This your dick right? Show me.” Terry insisted, pushing only the tip driving you madly in love.

You slid down on him with ease, a guttural moan fleeing the two mouths as the feeling of being together again, feeling the chemistry oozing off of each other, it was something that couldn’t be replaced.

You grabbed a hold of the driver’s seat as you threw your ass back onto him, arching your back some more, the clapping intensified times ten.

“Fuckk,” Terry cursed lazily as he fucked you back, giving each cheek a little smacked turning that spot more redder, caressing the right one as the left one was left to die, that asshole!

You felt Terry's presence grow closer as his chest rested on your upper back. His left hand snaked around to keep your face to his as he attacked your lips, the taste of gin deepening your taste buds as you savor the flavor of him, moaning into his mouth.

His left hand released your face, kissing your back before pinning your face down onto the seat, his right hand placed in the small of your back, bending your back in a way you didn’t think it could bend.

He moaned deeply, his languidish strokes reminding you of one thing: This pussy was his and to never let another nigga think he has a chance. Truly, you learned from this experience but will try again when you recover from this in 7-10 business years.

You felt a familiar sensation forming in the pit of your stomach, Terry sensed this and evilly went deep, hitting all new spots as he damn near bottomed out in you. “I want you to cum on this dick and I want you to cum now.” but little did he know you were waiting on his approval.

You erupted into a screaming, shaking mess, the sounds of squelching and slapping of skin drowning out the music.

Terry gave you three sharp thrusts before nutting in you, painting your walls like you were a canvas, and it created a beautiful scene. Terry collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily into your ear feeling accomplished that he was able to go through with his ‘Punishment’ beating the last score of 3 to 7.

“I love you,” Terry said innocently, kissing you gently, whimpering as he slowly pulled out of you. “But Don’t do that shit again.”

You flopped onto the backseat as you stuck up a thumbs up, your arm flopping back down as you heard him laugh.

Fin ♥️

Youve got Mail!📥 @megamindsecretlair @theebaddesttt @thecapodomme @henneseyhoe @planetblaque @kindofaintrovert @blackerthings @harmshake

[nastybuckybarnes]

Escape Plans

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Summary: Ghost does all he can to stop you from leaving.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language,

Word Count: 1.6K

A/n: for @daugherofneptune because yeahhhh sorryy but give your dog another boop for me

~*~

Simon manages to break his personal record with bladder-holding, but eventually, he leaves his quarters to deal with his needs.

For a while he was tempted to re-purpose the garbage can beside his desk, but eventually decided that would probably be a little too messy.

So, after a few more minutes of careful deliberation, he lets you know his plans to leave, then exits his quarters.

The sound of the door closing is all you need to hear to yank the bathroom door open, rushing into the room and quickly getting dressed.

Your fingers tremble as you start executing your plan.

You only have a few minutes before he gets back, and you still need to leave his quarters without being seen.

As quickly as you can, you pile on a few of his heavier sweaters and some extra socks, then shove two pairs of pants on your legs.

An extra balaclava is tucked safely into your pocket, and then you're turning to the door ready to make good your escape.

Unfortunately, your plans are thwarted by the door opening.

Your heart jumps into your throat and your eyes widen when they meet Simon's.

He pauses for a moment, a brow raising.

"Going out?" He asks.

You frown up at him, trying to step around him only for him to mirror you.

"Going," you try, stepping the other way only for him to do the same.

"I see that. Where?"

You huff out an angry breath and glare up at him.

"Anywhere. Any place that is not here. That will be better."

He doesn't say anything, just stares at you.

"I... I go back to city. Safer there."

Simon scoffs and shakes his head, "you don't really believe that, do you?"

Your glare hardens.

"I stay in city for long time and I survive. I don't get hurt. I stay with you for weeks... get hurt many times."

He sighs, dropping his gaze for a moment then reaching toward you, his heart hurting when you step just out of his reach.

"Mouse, I know. And I'm sorry. It won't happen again-"

"No! I don't want to stay. Please."

If his heart hurt before, it's absolutely shattered now.

"It won't be much longer now. Can you hold out for just a little bit? Please."

You cross your arms over your chest and glare at the ground as tears well up in your eyes.

"Why? So that next time you go they can find me again? Hurt me again?"

"That won't happen," he says darkly, "they know, all of them, that nothing comes between you and me."

It's true.

Matthew's screams could be heard even from how far in the forest Ghost had taken him.

When he returned to base with lighter shoulders and blood splattered on his face, nobody even glanced at him for fear of being next.

Simon cups your jaw and the side of your neck with one hand and uses the other hand to push your hair aside.

"M'not gonna lose you, Mouse. Not when 've only just found you."

Your bottom lip starts to wobble and you pull your eyes from his.

"Look at me."

After a few heartbeats, you reluctantly bring your gaze back to his.

Gently, he takes your hand and puts it on his chest.

"This. You feel this in here?" He asks.

You don't answer right away.

No, instead you wait until you feel the rhythmic thumping before you nod.

"That belongs to you, got it?"

You nod at him.

"And you? You belong to me. And you must be outta your mind if you think m'gonna let what's mine walk out like that."

His words make your belly flip and you sigh, leaning your face into his hand.

"I don't like it here," you whisper.

"I know, Mouse. But soon I'll take you away from here. You won't have to worry about any of this ever again, I swear."

You tug your head back a bit and look up at him.

"Where will we go?"

He shrugs, tugging you into a hug and stepping further into the room.

"Anywhere you want. The city, the country, the ocean, the mountains. Wherever you want."

You're quiet for a good few moments before finally snuggling closer to him.

"Fine. But I don't leave."

"Good." That's exactly what he wants.

"No. This room. I don't leave."

Oh. Not what he really wants.

"You're gonna stay in this room for the next several weeks? Mouse, these walls are gonna get borin' to look at."

You slowly pull back to look up at him, and he wonders what he's said to deserve such a bitch-face.

"I live in cage before here. Walls will be fine."

He has no rebuttal.

"Well, I can bring you somethin'. Anythin' to make your stay better... more comfortable. Anythin' you need or want, jus say the word and I'll get it for you."

Your brows draw together.

You don't need anything.

Seeing the look on your face, he's quick to chime in with things he thinks you may like.

"What about more sketchbooks?"

That would be nice.

Slowly you nod.

"I can bring you a tablet, too. S'you can watch movies. We don't exactly have award winners, but some classics'll keep you occupied for the next little while," he rambles.

A frown finds your lips.

"What is tablet?"

Simon chuckles softly, kissing the top of your head tenderly.

"Oh, you're gonna love it. Can get ya almost anything with the touch of a button."

True to his word, he gets you set up with a tablet and several new sketchbooks, and spends a good portion of the afternoon showing you how to work the tablet.

"You'll have restricted access, but you know where to go if you have questions, and where to go if you want to watch movies. If you want anything else, you tell me. Okay?"

You don't say anything, only nod.

The corners of his mouth drop the tiniest bit when he notices the way you're avoiding his eyes once again.

"Mouse... you know that... that I put you down there because I had to. It was the only way for them to believe me. You know that I would never put you through that if there was any other choice, right?"

You nod again, sniffling and turning away from him the tiniest bit.

You know it's not his fault. You know that. You know that if there had been any other way for him to convince his team that you were innocent, he would've done it.

That doesn't change the fact that it was his face behind those bars. His hands that locked the door.

"Look at me. Please."

You flutter your eyes up to his, not bothering to mask the sadness you feel.

"When you go... lock door."

He's a little surprised by your words but nods his understanding.

"I will."

Though it goes directly against the rules, he swapped his door handle with the one on Soap's bathroom door. Prick can earn his privacy back.

Now, there's one added measure between you and the men on base. He wishes it wasn't necessary, but even he can only defend his men for so long.

"I'll lock the door and you open it to no one but me."

"You will bring key."

He blinks a few times before nodding once more.

"I will bring a key. That way you don't have to worry. Only person coming in and out of here will be me."

You look down again, fingers tapping the tablet gently as anxiety eats a hole in your stomach.

Simon's moving before he understands what he's doing, carefully taking off the chain around his neck.

"Here. I want you to have this."

You glance over to him, brows drawing together when he holds his dog tags out to you.

"You'll always have a piece of me. N'you know if you're with me nothin's gonna happen to you."

Though you don't fully understand the meaning of his words, the weight of them is not lost on you. You can feel the importance, the significance.

And so you let him carefully put them on you.

His eyes are focused on where they rest on your chest, on top of your heart.

Carefully, he cups your cheek and slides his thumb over your soft skin.

"You've no idea what you mean to me, Mouse. No idea. Almost wish you coulda been there to see what happened to that prick for what he did."

He means it when he says that, too.

He wishes you could've been there to see exactly what he did to him. Wishes you could've heard his apologies, his pathetic attempts at pleading for his life.

But the last thing he wants is for you to be scared of him.

"What... what did you do?" You ask, looking at him nervously.

His thumb drags over your bottom lip and he sighs.

"A lot. A lot of bad... horrible things. Hurt him real bad. And then I let him die. 'Cause that's what happens to people who hurt you. And I'll never forgive myself for being one of them."

You nod slowly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth then sighing gently.

"How long until we go home?" You ask after another moment, slowly bringing your hand up to his chest.

"A few weeks. Not much longer, and then it'll be jus' you and me."

Slowly, you nod.

You can do a few more weeks.

A few more weeks, then you start your new life in your new home with your Ghost.

With Simon.

Your Simon.

[k0juki]

Hiii!!

Could you please do a one-shot with jealous! Kimi? Maybe during an interview, he's already had enough and wants to leave, but after seeing a journalist or somebody else trying to flirt with his gf (they both agreed to keep their relationship private), he loses it and once he goes up to her after telling that guy to get lost, he physically relaxes and basically melts to her touch...forgetting that they were surrounded by cameras that had just recorded every second of the exchange.

I'd like to imagine how the other drivers and the fans in general would react to that :))

Thanxx <3

Yur!!!🧊 Sorry it took me too so long...school is pain.

His girl

Kimi Räikkönen x fem!reader

English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors!

More stuff here!

Words: 573

---

It wasn't strange to see Kimi annoyed. Most people that worked with him knew how he could get and this was no different. But what annoys him the most are only two things. 

Firstly, not winning the race and media being dick about it and secondly, when anyone flirts with his girl. Of course nobody knows that you are together, but still, it makes his Finnish blood boil.

And let's just say that today wasn't his best day at all. Not only he fucked up the rece, but as the interview progressed, Kimi patience wore thinner with each passing question. He'd had enough of the same inquiries, the same stupid questions and the same attempts to extract emotions from him that he preferred to keep hidden. Yet, he maintained his ice cool demeanor, answering tersely but efficiently. 

However, his face cracked when he caught a glimpse of someone leaning a bit too close to his girlfriend, Y/n, who was standing just a few feet away, watching the interview with a supportive smile that he loves. She is his safe place. When something happens, he knows that he can go to her. To make him feel loved. 

And when he heard the journalist's flirtatious tone and lingering gaze he held on her, made Kimi's blood boil beneath his calm exterior. In a rare moment of unfiltered emotion, Kimi abruptly ended the interview, muttering something about needing a break and with determined strides, he made his way over to Y/n, who looked surprised at his sudden approach. 

"Hey, is everything okay?" she asked, concern evident in her voice, but Kimi ignored her question and pulled her into his arms possessively, caging her in and casting a sharp glare at the journalist who had dared to encroach on his territory. His girl.

"Get lost" he growled, the words were laced with a dangerous edge and it almost sounded like a threat. Once the unwanted intruder had retreated, Kimi felt a wave of relief wash over him. His tense muscles gradually relaxed as he buried his face in Y/n's hair, inhaling her familiar scent that he loves so much. 

The anger started to melt away and was replaced by a sense of calm and contentment that only she could bring him. Unbeknownst to Kimi, their intimate moment had been captured by the surrounding cameras, broadcasting his uncharacteristic display of jealousy to the world. 

Among the other drivers, reactions varied. Some were surprised, having never seen this side of Kimi before, while others like Sebastian just gave a knowing look, he understood the depth of Kimi's feelings for Y/n. As for the fans, social media and everyone else erupted with speculation and commentary. 

"I think everyone knows that we are together now." You murmured against him. His strong arms still wrapped around you.

"Yeah, but at least they won't be flirting with you before my eyes."

---

In the days that followed, Kimi and Y/n found themselves surrounded by an outpouring of support and affection from fans, friends, and fellow drivers. Despite initially feeling exposed by the public display of their relationship, they soon realized that it had only brought them closer together. 

As they retreated to the quiet sanctuary of their home, Kimi and Y/n reveled in the simple joys of each other's company. They shared laughter, tender moments and whispered words of love that were meant for each other's ears alone. 

---

Requests are open!

Don't copy or translate my work! Also the picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!

[ericshoney]

First investigation ~ Brother!Colby Brock

Summary: You finally get the chance to go with your brother and Sam on a paranormal investigation.

Warnings: usual swearing, ghosts, spirits, crying, targeting

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What's up guys it's Sam and Colby!"

You smiled watching your brother and Sam introduce the video. You were very excited as this was the first time you were finally allowed to go along with an investigation.

"Today we have a very special guest! Introducing Y/n Brock!" Sam shouted as you jumped into frame and waved at the camera.

"Hey guys! I am finally here for the good shit!" You exclaimed.

"Yes guys, my seventeen year old sister is finally here to go explore with us." Colby said.

"I'm excited." You replied.

"How much of a believer are you?" Sam questioned.

"Like probably a nine." You answered.

"What would make you a ten?" Colby then asked.

"If something spoke directly to me." You replied.

"Well this is an abandoned hospital, let's see what happens." Sam said.

You nodded as you all started exploring. The first couple hours you didn't get much as you were just getting used to being around the place. But once the equipment comes out, you start to feel different. Like someone was watching you.

You stood watching as Sam set up the rem pod, you holding the camera for him and Colby. As you did, you felt something on the back of your neck, making you flinch.

"What?" Colby called, seeing your sudden movement.

"So...Something was on my neck." You replied.

"Like what?" Sam asked.

"Like....a breath. I don't know if it was just the wind." You replied, trying to find a excuse.

Just then, the rem pod went off and nobody was standing near it. You jumped slightly as Colby took the camera from you.

"If there is someone here with us you can go up to any of the devices and give them a touch." Sam said, his words make you giggle slightly.

Then the rem pod went off again, along with a torch you set up. You then felt your hair being pulled.

"Colby get off." You said, thinking it was him.

"I'm not touching you." He said.

You looked at him and saw he had both hands on the camera. You then felt it again.

"Something keeps pulling my hair." You mentioned.

"You can touch any of the equipment around but not us." Sam instructed.

The equipment kept going off all around you, letting you all ask some questions. You then decided to explore a bit more before finding an active spot and doing the Estes method.

"Now since the spirits seem to like Y/n the most, why not have her do the Estes method!" Sam cheered.

"Only if you want too, we can do it if not." Colby said, knowing you had been a target for a bit, his protective side kicking in more.

"I'll do it." You said.

You sat on the floor as Sam tied the blindfold around your head. You placed the headphones on and held the radio. Colby stood behind you as Sam set the camera up in front of you.

"If there is anyone here with us you can talk through this device." Sam said loudly.

It was quiet for a moment, before the boys heard a knock. They looked over and then you spoke.

"Here."

"Who is here with us?" Colby asked.

"Many."

"There are many people with us." Sam said.

"Stay."

"We are here for a bit." Colby responded.

"Her."

"Her? As is Y/n?" Sam asked.

"Yes."

"What about her?" Colby questioned.

"Stay forever."

"No way." Sam gasped and looked at Colby.

"Fuck." You shouted, throwing the headphones off and removing the blindfold.

"What did it say?" Colby asked worried.

"It said my name." You answered, a few tears in your eyes.

"Okay I think that's enough for today. Let's get out of here." Sam said.

You and Colby nodded, your brother wrapping a secure arm around your shoulder. You knew it would be a long time before you even thought about doing another investigation again.