#so eventually I dragged myself up off the floor

[jasper-dracona]

So uhhh I was just gonna make an addition to this in the tags, but i didn’t realize how verbose I was gonna be, so I ran out of tags. So I’m gonna continue it up here cause I don’t wanna rewrite all the tags:

But writing the words “maybe I won’t become a palaeontologist” caused me to burst into tears in class. I pushed through and kept writing to finish off the piece, but something in my heart had snapped like a twig.

I used short snappy sentences and repetition to show my anger, fear, frustration, and most importantly, my constant anxious thoughts that kept giving me anxiety attacks during tests. Telling me over and over again that I was never gonna make it. That I was stupid. That I’d never make it into university, let alone survive it.

This also, conveniently, was a motif in the text.

Anyways, a week or two later I got the grade back for that piece, and if I’m remembering right, it was pretty solid. But I didn’t… really care about that, which was very weird for me at the time. But for some reason I just wanted to have it back. Despite the pain I felt in writing that phrase, I felt an inexplicable urge to read it again. So, when I got it back, I tucked it away in my backpack.

That night, sitting at my desk, up too late, I pulled the pieces of looseleaf out of my bag, and read what I had wrote in full. Most of it was still just as visceral as when I had written it, and while it was emotional, it didn’t bring me to tears like it had before.

Until I read that phrase.

I sobbed for probably over an hour that night.

After that I made a consistent habit of digging out that piece, reading that line, and letting myself cry for a while whenever I was feeling hopeless about school or my future. And each time I did, it got a little easier to read. Slowly I was convincing myself that this wouldn’t be the end of the world, that things would be okay, that I would be okay.

And I think this was among the top 3 best things I ever did for myself. Along with going to my doctor about getting assessed for ADHD and a particular break up.

And now I keep journals with my most visceral of emotions in them, so that I can go back and read them over and over, and learn to accept how I feel, and my situation. I write prose and poems and unorganized swaths of thoughts and feelings. I draw, scratch and scribble with a shitty pen, with no care for beauty, just expression. (I did this a lot during anxiety attacks in my math quizzes and tests. I’ve lost most of them but I remember how much those made me feel too)

The idea is that if I keep writing and drawing these things, I’ll eventually come up with another of those twig-snapping phrases, or a visceral image, and I can look back on those and view them again and again, allowing me to process those emotions.

It’s cathartic and therapeutic, and I’m glad I learned to do it, all thanks to that shitty fucking chemistry test.

(GOD this ended up long, sorry lol)

So, okay, fun fact. When I was a freshman in high school… let me preface by saying my dad sent me to a private school and, like a bad organ transplant, it didn’t take. I was miserable, the student body hated me, I hated them, it was awful.

Okay, so, freshman year, I’m deep in my “everything sucks and I’m stuck with these assholes” mentality. My English teacher was a notorious hard-ass, let’s call him Mr. Hargrove. He was the guy every student prayed they didn’t get. And, on top of ALL OF THE SHIT I WAS ALREADY DEALING WITH, I had him for English.

One of the laborious assignments he gave us was to keep a daily journal. Daily! Not monthly or weekly. Fucking daily. Handwritten. And we had to turn it in every quarter and he fucking graded us. He graded us on a fucking journal.

All of my classmates wrote shit like what they did that day or whatever. But, I did not. No, sir. I decided to give the ol’ middle finger to the assignment and do my own shit.

So, for my daily journal entries, over the course of an entire year, I wrote a serialized story about a horde of man-eating slugs that invaded a small mining town. It was graphic, it was ridiculous, it was an epic feat of rebellion.

And Mr. Hargrove loved it.

It wasn’t just the journal. Every assignment he gave us, I tried to shit all over it. Every reading assignment, everyone gushed about how good it was, but I always had a negative take. Every writing assignment, people wrote boring prose, but I wrote cheesy limericks or pulp horror stories.

Then, one day, he read one of my essays to the class as an example of good writing. When a fellow student asked who wrote it, he said, “Some pipsqueak.”

And that’s when I had a revelation. He wanted to fight. And since all the other students were trying to kiss his ass, I was his only challenger.

Mr. Hargrove and I went head-to-head on every assignment, every conversation, every fucking thing. And he ate it up. And so did I.

One day, he read us a column from the Washington Post and asked the class what was wrong with it. Everyone chimed in with their dumbass takes, but I was the one who landed on Mr. Hargrove’s complaint: The reporter had BRAZENLY added the suffix “ize” to a verb.

That night I wrote a jokey letter to the reporter calling him out on the offense in which I added “ize” to every single verb. I gave it to Mr. Hargrove, who by then had become a friendly adversary, for a chuckle and he SENT IT TO THE REPORTER.

And, people… The reporter wrote back. And he said I was an exceptional student. Mr. Hargrove and I had a giggle about that because we both knew I was just being an asshole, but he and the reporter acknowledged I had a point.

And that was it. That was the moment. Not THAT EXACT moment, but that year with Mr. Hargrove taught me I had a knack for writing. And that knack was based in saying “fuck you” to authority. (The irony that someone in a position of authority helped me realize that is not lost on me.)

So, I can say without qualification that Mr. Hargrove is the reason I am now a professional writer. Yes, I do it for a living. And most of my stuff takes authorities of one kind or another to task.

Mr. Hargrove showed me my dissent was valid, my rebellion was righteous, and that killer slugs could bring a city to its knees. Someone just needs to write it.

[kissenturine]

boothill,, gunplay. thats the thought,, if ur comfortable writing that ofc ofc

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃 boothill x m!reader — 1.4k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: gun play, slight chocking, boothill puts his gun in reader's mouth, boothill kind of bends reader over, boothill also makes reader jerk off, uh boothill kinda mean-ish, he pretends to shoot reader, aftercare is not written but it is given! lmk if i missed anyy :3

KAI SAYS: hello guys,, shorter than usual bc ive landed myself in the er due to multiple reasons haha (chronic hives, low blood pressure, fainting spells, dehydration, etc) and i miiight not be able to post until like next weekend maybe (?) so so soso sorry for the inconvenience aaargh, writing this in the hospital too... not dying tho everything super minor so!!

The first time you ever saw Boothill pull a gun was at a training centre. He said something about wanting to work on his aim, and so he decided to head there, late at night. No one else was there—just the two of you.

Boothill pulls out his gun, flicking a few bullets into the spinning revolver with practiced ease before he pulls the trigger. A loud ‘bang’ fills the room, followed by the sound of his metal bullets clinking to the floor after the shot.

“Well color me stoked.” Boothill grins, showing off his sharp teeth. “Seems I ain’t that bad after all!”

“Well, you were always good with guns, anyway.” You respond, returning Boothill’s grin with a smile of your own. He was indeed good with guns, and it was undoubtedly attractive.

Boothill’s hands spin the revolver, watching the metal clink. It was much too fast for you to see, so you didn’t know which one ended up landing. Boothill is quick to draw his gun again, smirking as he pointed it at you—straight into your chest.

“Boothill?” You question. “What are you—”

You are cut off by the loud sound of his gun shooting. Your eyes shut and you winced instinctively, your body tensing up for the bullet that was about to hit your skin.

…Yet it never happened. 

Cracking one eye open, you peer at Boothill cautiously, only to find him gripping his metal abs, a roaring laugh rolling from his lips. “Oh, darlin’ you know I’d never shoot ya!” He laughs again, though this time it was softer. “C’mon, love, I’d never hurt ya.” He murmurs sweetly as he makes his way closer to you, his gun still in hand.

He presses the muzzle playfully against your chest, trailing it up and down your abdomen. Boothill’s smirk only widened as he slipped his gun—along with the hand holding it—under your shirt. He presses the muzzle right against your nipple, watching you shiver at the cool metal.

“Boothill.” You whisper firmly. “What’re you doing?”

He says nothing, only continuing to drag his gun against your skin, sending shivers of delight across your body.

Eventually, his gun finds its way to the hem of your pants. Boothill gives you a wicked smile before he uses his free hand to yank down your pants and boxers, exposing your half-hard cock. “Well, ain’t that a pretty sight.” He cooes, letting the muzzle of his gun rest against your tip.

“Jerk it for me, pretty boy.” Boothill says. You blink up at him, confusion filling your face.

“Huh…?” You question.

“I said.” Boothill groans, pressing the muzzle of his gun harder into your tip. “Jerk it for me, or else I’m gonna be shootin’ this pretty lil’ dick o’ yours.” Boothill wouldn’t really. You knew that. He said it himself. And yet… the fear that he would is still there, forcing small tears to well in your pretty eyes as you looked up at him desperately.

“O-Okay.” You comply, wrapping your hand around your shaft as you slowly start to glide your closed fist up and down.

“Good boy.” Boothill praises, and his voice makes your dick twitch against his gun.

You move your hand, squeezing as you get to your tip and rolling your thumb to spread your precum. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as Boothill rocked the muzzle of his gun in time with your hand.

“Look at ya.” He groans, his free hand going to squeeze at your throat. “Gettin’ off to my gun pointed at ya.” Boothill smirks, rolling the revolver again until the familiar ‘click’ sound resounds around the room. “Pretty thing, d’ya even know what this could do to you? Or are you too dumbed down already?”

“Stop teasin’” You whine, your hand's pace slowing as you turn your gaze away from Boothill’s. “Not that dumb yet…”

“Yet.” He repeats, removing his gun from your dick. “Think I can change that real quick, no?” A sharp laugh escapes Boothill’s lips as he suddenly hoists you up and off the barstool you sat on. He spins your body with only a smidge of grace as he lands you roughly on your stomach against the table, your ass now facing Boothill.

“Aeons, you’re so pretty…” He murmurs, his hands roughly groping the fat of your ass. “Can’t believe yer all mine…”

A whine slips from your lips, high and pathetic as your eyes flutter closed. “Yeah…” You whisper. “All yours…” You feel Boothill drag the muzzle along your back—sliding it under your shirt, before he pulls his arm up, tearing through the thin fabric. You shiver at the newfound cold, goosebumps prickling your exposed skin.

You hear the zipper of his pants as he pulls it down, pulling out his cock and tapping it against your clothed ass before he’s yanking down your shorts. Boothill traces a metal finger around your puckered rim, eyeing you carefully. “Such a cute ‘lil hole…” He whispers out breathlessly. “Can’t wait to fuckin’ destroy it.”

The instant Boothill stops speaking, you feel the tip of his metal cock push past your hole, stretching you out more than you could ever imagine—despite doing this with him before. “Boothill.” You moan out, eyes fluttering as you crane your neck to look at him—only to have your face pushed right back into the table by the shove of his gun against the back of your head,

“Stay still f’me, pretty.” Boothill groans, easing his cock into you. The more he pushes in, the more painful the stretch is… And yet, the more painful it is, the more pleasure your body seems to derive from it. Boothill is only halfway in when you feel like you’ve been stuffed to your limit. A pathetic sound escapes you and you feel his gun press down harder.

Boothill removes his gun from you, using it to force your head to the side. He leans down, spitting a thick glob of spit all over the muzzle, smirking as it gets his gun all messy. “Open.” He taps it against your lips, making sure to smear his spit all over. Boothill’s smirk only widens when you follow, opening your mouth and letting his muzzle sit between your pretty lips. “Atta boy.” He whispers, thrusting with full force his cock into your awaiting hole.

“Boothill…!” You moan out, though it’s muffled by his gun pressing against the flat of your tongue. Your thighs tense at the sudden pleasure. A gurgly whine leaves your throat. “I can’t—”

“You can,” Boothill growls, pressing his gun deeper into your throat. His thumb goes to spin the revolver, making sure it lands on a slot with a bullet before continuing, “and you will. Ya know why, cutie? ‘Cause you're my good boy, and good boys take what they’re given.”

He sets a brutal pace after, thrusting into you relentlessly. It doesn’t matter how you plead, all Boothill does is press his gun further down your throat—until you’re sure your lips will bleed from the stretch. Eventually, his tip knocks against your prostate, sending you over the edge. Your dick squirts a load, all over the table and floor, yet Boothill doesn’t falter.

“Look at you, cummin’ like a slut.” He groans, and his pace seems to increase. He’s suddenly going harder, faster, everything that makes your head spin with the added overstimulation.

You cry against the gun, tears welling in the corner of your eyes. Boothill seems to enjoy the sight, leaning down to kiss softly against the back of your neck, his free hand wrapping around your waist and fisting your spent cock.

“That’s it…” He coos. “You think ya can give me one more?” His hand increases, matching the rhythm of his thrusts as he knocks into your prostate again and again and again. “C-C’mon, need t’do it together.” You nod your head eagerly, drool slipping from between the corner of your lips and his gun.

Boothill thrusts harshly, finally sending you over the edge for the second time, and you feel his metal dick twitch in time with you. Your eyes roll back, ecstasy overwhelming you as Boothill pumps a thick, sticky load into your ass, painting your walls white.

“You’re so good f’me…” He coos into your ear, sliding his gun slowly out of your mouth. With a familiar click, the resounding sound of a gunshot echoes throughout the room as he shoots his last bullet into the table—right by your head. “You’re always so good an’ pretty with my gun…”

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @helloanime @kiekole (send ask without anon to be added)

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[ageofstarkey]

Hi! Could you write a Mattheo one, where it’s that time of the month, and you’re just really not feeling like facing the world.

poor thing ✰ m. riddle

summary: you’re on your period, and matthéo’s there to help you feel less awful.

pairing: bf!matthéo x reader

warnings: reader is implied to be afab, mentions of reader having their period, discussion of period-related symptoms, nothing else really???

note: hello!! thank you so much for the request!! i’m still trying to find my groove with writing, but i hope i did your prompt some justice :’) also pretend that boys can in fact enter the girls dorms in this universe lmfao

masterlist

comments & reblogs are so appreciated!

✰ ✰ ✰

“aren’t you getting up for potions?”

when you roll over, you see pansy watching you from the doorway. she’s dressed and ready for the day - book bag slung carefully across her body. she studies you with something akin to concern; awaiting your response with perfect, furrowed brows.

with a quiet sigh, you push yourself into a half-sitting position. “i don’t think so. i got my period last night and i feel absolutely horrid.”

“want me to tell riddle? i’m sure he’s looking for an excuse to skip anyway”

you roll your eyes fondly. “he’s already missed too many lessons this year - let him figure it out on his own time, yeah?”

pansy shrugs. “fine. hope you feel better.”

you groan, flopping none-too-gracefully back on your pillow. “me too.”

when pansy leaves, you take a few moments to savour the silence. it does little to ease the uncomfortable ache in your abdomen, but it’s quiet enough that you can almost pretend your head hasn’t been throbbing since the second you opened your eyes.

eventually, you snuggle back under your thick quilt, resigned to sleeping away your misery. it doesn’t take long for your fatigue to take over, pushing you steadily towards the edge of unconsciousness.

you’re nearly asleep, when you hear a sharp knock at the dormitory door. your brows tug downwards in confusion. with a quiet groan, you drag yourself out of bed. the floors are shockingly cold against your bare feet, and you curse quietly under your breath as you approach the door.

when you tug it open, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriends handsome face. although he should be in class, you can hardly fight the grin that tugs at your lips. “you are not supposed to be here.”

matthéo quirks an eyebrow, sporting a smirk you know all too well. “shall i see myself out then?”

you roll your eyes fondly. “no.”

“didn’t think so.” he lets himself in, kicking the door shut behind him. “do you wanna lay down?”

“merlin - more than anything.”

he tugs you gently towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss. “i figured as much.” he murmurs the words against your skin, punctuating them with another kiss. when he pulls away, he nudges you gently towards the bed. “how are you feeling?”

“awful.”

“cramps?” he shrugs off a few layers of clothing, before tugging back your quilt and laying on the bed.

with a gentle little tug, you’re falling into the empty space beside him. “my entire body just… aches.” with a defeated sigh, you drop your head on his chest.

matthéo hums softly, stroking a gentle hand up and down the length of your spine. “poor thing.”

“tell me about it.”

with a quiet little laugh, he tilts your head up towards his own. “do you think you’ll survive?”

“i really might not, théo. this might be it for me.”

matthéo rolls his eyes, but he wears a fond little smile that gives him away. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i am not!” your lips turn downwards in an involuntary pout. “it hurts.”

“i know, sweetheart.” he closes the small gap between you, kissing away your feeble little frown. “why don’t you try and get some rest, hm?”

“you’ll stay?”

he kisses you again - longer this time, and you swear you’re feeling better already. “‘m not going anywhere.”

[vanilladove]

hiii hello vani<3 may i request smt angsty with dazai and reader in which he’s acting neglectful/unfaithful as a partner and you just deal with it? but you don’t hate him or anything you’re just really sad about it hehe tysm ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

☾⋆.ೃ࿔* ghostin

gif creds fybugoustraydogs | divider creds benkeibear

₊ ⊹☁ pairing: dazai x gn!reader

₊ ⊹☁ genre: angst :,)

₊ ⊹☁ content warnings: distant/neglectful relationships; canon mentions of double suicide bc dazai lol...i couldn't bring myself to write a cheating dazai i'm sorry T~T inspired by ghostin + better off by ariana grande!

₊ ⊹☁ word count: 1.9k

You shivered under the cold sheets when your alarm had woken you up. The space next to you was empty, your lover nowhere to be found.

It had been like this for months now, but it was nothing new due to the nature of his job. Dazai always became distant right before handling a new enemy for the Armed Detective Agency. He only disclosed vague details to you, explaining that withdrawing himself was a way to protect you since he didn’t want enemies knowing about you. Before leaving, he’d muttered something about keeping you away from “the demon”.

But you had to admit, the feeling of being 'safe' from a far away, unknown enemy didn't compare to being wrapped in your lover's arms, the soft kisses on your forehead, gently running your hands through his brown fluffy hair, and whispering sweet nothings to eachother. You missed his corny jokes and the nights you two would have together after drinking too much sake, giggling on the floor and watching the stars on your open balcony—Dazai always pointing out the constellations and telling you the stories and lore behind each one.

He had been staying at a secret location far from your shared apartment, so the sheets didn’t smell like his musky, warm cologne anymore. The space felt ghostly now, and hanging out with your friends barely helped. Stirring a sugar cube and cream into your morning coffee, the things they said repeated in your head.

“Just break up with him..."

"You don’t deserve someone who ignores you—especially if he puts work above you…”

"He's definitely cheating on you with all the travel he's always away on..."

Your friends didn’t understand though. They didn’t understand the depth of your relationship or how Dazai loved you. He was a reserved man; he didn't let anyone into his heart, always putting on a flamboyant front to mask his true self. Even becoming his partner and finally moving in with him was a feat in itself and was something he'd hesitantly accepted. You knew he had a traumatic upbringing and that the ones he cared for eventually left his life, often in a tragic way; the last thing his broken heart could take was losing you.

Which was why you put up with the cold sheets in the morning, the single serving meals, and all the sad movie nights alone—because deep down, you knew he cared about you. Your lonely conscious couldn't handle any other explanation.

You tiredly shaped the triangular onigiri filled with snow crab and placed it in the wooden bento box, along with some tamagoyaki and salad, savoring the momentary heat in your hands. It was Dazai's favorite lunch—something you used to pack for him everyday. You forcibly dragged yourself out of bed to make it for him after receiving a text—from an unknown number, of course—that he was stopping by the apartment to grab something. You knew it was futile waking up early; it wouldn't stop him from leaving with no explanation, from not being targeted by the port mafia, the hunting dogs, or "the demon". How silly and lovesick you were.

Closing the lid, you put the dishes in the sink and placed a piece of bread into the toaster, staring intently as you waited for it to finish, which seemed like forever. You took a sip from your mug, cringing when the lukewarm liquid touched your tongue. Shit, your coffee had gone cold. That never happened when he was still there.

The lock clicking snapped you out of your somber thoughts, and you turned your head around to face the self-inviting visitor. Gaze softening, you admired the tall man in front of you, wrapped in a tan trench coat, which you instinctively slipped off from behind him, his tense shoulders relaxing under your fingertips as you draped the coat on a nearby chair. Wordlessly, you both exchanged melancholic glances before Dazai made the first move, stepping forward to close the space between you two. His slender fingers slowly came up to caress your face, the foreign touch making your cheeks heat up. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and placed a soft kiss on your cold lips, "Hi, bella."

Forcing yourself to open your lids again and not overindulge in the much needed contact, you smiled at your lover, but it didn't quite connect back to your eyes, "Welcome hom—errr—back...You needed something from here, right?" You replied, choosing your words carefully so he couldn't hear your evident desperation.

Dazai blinked carefully, "Yeah, a flash drive. It's in one of the kitchen cabinets. Is it fine if I look around for a bit?" You nodded, looking down at the tiled floor and smiling at nothing. Dazai was always like that, hiding important things in the most impractical places as a precaution. As he fished through the cabinet, he turned his head briefly to look down at the abandoned mug sitting on the counter, "Is that for me?"

You wiped the nostalgic grin off your face, reaching for your coffee, which you'd made in Dazai's usual mug, "A-Ah, no. It's mine, sorry," Dazai raised an eyebrow at you, "I made it earlier this morning, but it's cold now. I'll make you some more." You offered, trying to brush off his suspicions and the strange looks he was giving you.

He sighed, stroking your hair lightly, "It's fine, darling, brew yourself a new cup, and I'll drink this one." He gave you one last reassuring pat before picking up the mug and slipping away into your shared room to look for something else, giving you no time to protest. What seemed like a sweet gesture really had a double meaning: I'm not staying long enough for a new batch of coffee, so I'll just take the cold cup.

A pit formed in your stomach as you dumped out the used coffee filter and reached for a new one. Your vision started to blur, stopping you before you could open the lid of the coffee grounds. Wet drops falling on the back of your hands made you realize you were crying. Instinctively, you brought your hands up to cover your mouth and block any sobs from Dazai, who was still next door in your bedroom.

Stop it.

You tried to coerce yourself, but you couldn't help it. The despair was too agonizing; to have the one you needed most close to you but not being able to tell them to stay, to hold you, especially since you knew how precious you were to him—if you asked, he'd drop everything to stay the night with you. Everyone at the ADA was aware of that, which was why they'd sat you down and conveyed that you couldn't dote too much on Dazai. You understood that and had stayed by his side anyways, knowing that being with him sometimes was better than never. Even if it broke your heart in the process. Even if it meant crying silently in the kitchen while your lover was in the next room, oblivious to the tears wetting your sleeves.

Deep down, you wished he would notice the pain you were in. You wished he would text and call you more or at least take you out to dinner and do special things when he'd finally come back, but he always resumed your daily routines almost like he'd never left. It made your heart ache, feeling like he disregarded his long leaves and their effects on you. You sniffled quietly and quickly wiped your tears away upon hearing rustling from the bedroom doorway signaling that Dazai was almost done grabbing what he needed.

Inhaling deeply, you breathed in and out slowly to calm your frantic heart and turned to the side to face the counter as your partner walked back into the kitchen.

"Found what you were looking for?" You asked, trying to cover your face with your hair and sneakily wipe away any residual tears.

Dazai swiftly passed by you, going towards the chair to slip his trench coat back on and grab the lunch you'd made him. "Yeah, I found it. Thanks for the bento and coffee by the wa—" Your eyes widened as he trailed off mid-sentence, all of a sudden feeling his presence next to you. He bent down to peer over at your face, evidently still swollen and a bit red from crying.

He rotated your body towards him and pushed the stay hairs from your face, intently observing your features. "Bella, have you been crying?" He stroked your cheeks delicately, "And your eyebags are so dark...have you been getting enough sleep?" He looked genuinely worried, peering into your eyes for any sort of insights, but it was too hard to maintain eye contact with him.

"I'm fine...I—" You muttered, words trapped in your throat.

Tell him you miss him. That you don't want him to leave you again.

No, don't! Let him walk out as usual. Your sadness isn't worth letting a countless number of innocent people get harmed or killed.

Thoughts conflicting and wearing your tired soul out, you only mustered a weak smile, placing your cold hands on top of Dazai's. "If I died now, would you still die with me?"

"What?"

"You promised we'd commit a double suicide together. Would you still—" Dazai's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, his warmth and comforting scent making tears fall again, not knowing the next time he would be back. You cursed yourself internally for breaking down in front of him, but you couldn't hold your emotions in any longer. He only held you silently, running his hands through your hair as you sobbed into his chest. You felt lightheaded, crying for several minutes, the only condoling things being the scent of Dazai's cologne and the way he held you to remind you he was still with you.

You looked up from his chest, gazing into his chocolate brown eyes, which were swirling with uncertainty. A pained expression was on his face, no doubt from your actions. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm so sorry..." He lifted your face up to kiss your lips gently and kiss away your salty tears before pulling you back into his chest. "I was selfish to think you wouldn't be hurt by me always being away. I tried to turn a blind eye to focus on work, but..." He exhaled shakily, "...somehow I always hurt the people closest to me...even the one I love the most."

Dazai squeezed you tighter in his arms, "I love you, and I know we'll get past this, darling. I don't expect you to forgive me, but please, please don't think of resorting to that." He cradled your face, forcing you to look up at his broken eyes.

This was the power you had over him. Prison, criminals, and even the mafia couldn't break him anymore, but your tears could melt his gaudy, confident facade instantaneously and bring him to his knees. Exactly what everyone warned you about.

You nodded slowly, the last of your cry session being wiped away by Dazai's thumbs. You hugged him back, listening as his rampant heartbeat went back to normal, staring off to the side.

"Listen, bella, I'm going to be gone for a few months. I suspect I'm going to be arrested and sent to a high-security prison...probably somewhere overseas. We won't—we won't be together for a while." You heaved, holding your breath, "But," He turned your head to face him, "I'm going to stay here for a couple of days until then. Is that okay?"

Before you could think, you crashed your lips on his, and Dazai only happily kissed back, smiling, grateful to have cheered up his love again.

"Y-Yeah, that's fine. I love you, Osamu." You sniffled back. He could stay forever if he wanted to, but you'd take a few days.

"I love you, too, bella. I always will, even when I'm not with you. Enough for the both of us."

[minimomoe]

How to Train your Demon

Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.

Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (but it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....

AN: Thank you for sticking along to the end!! This story is now COMPLETE. I'm glad I have added some silly (and sexy) fluff to Sukuna's tag.

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII XIII. (completed)

Throw the Rules Away

~A few years later~

You flipped through a thick binder of tattoo designs as you leaned over a wooden counter. The soft buzz of needles vibrating came from the corner of the shop, and scents of disinfectant and mint filled your nose. You stopped at a page with an intricate crescent moon, tapping your finger over the page. 

“Finally gonna get something?”

Choso Kamo materialized in front of you, wiping his hands clean with a towel. He was teasing you, looking at the page himself and nodded approvingly. Instead of his usual two ponytail hairstyle his hair fell just above his shoulders with strands of his bangs falling into his eyes. You made a face and smiled. 

“Maybe. You know I hate needles.” 

“So you got your husband to work at my tattoo shop that you visit almost everyday,” he snorted. 

You tapped the temple. “All part of my master plan. If I do want a tattoo, Sukuna will do it for me,” you laughed. “Speaking of him, is he almost finished?” 

“Yeah, he should be cleaning up now,” Choso said. You waved you off so you could go to Sukuna’s station. He was doing just as Choso said he would be– wiping down the client chair, putting ink back into their baskets, shoving things back into their places. You have never been able to sneak up on Sukuna, his senses were too sharp, but it didn’t stop you from trying. You managed to be a foot away from his body when his hand shot out from behind to drag you close to the side of his body and you chuckled. He spun you around so that you would sit on the vinyl chair and you swung your feet above the floor. 

“No kiss?” You pouted. “I guess today wasn’t a good day.”

“How needy,” he shook his head. Sukuna’s large hand cupped your chin to tilt your head up. His tongue swiped over your mouth before sliding inside, and his lips moved against yours until you were clutching the front of his t-shirt, your head spinning from the lack of oxygen. He moved down to your jaw and neck and you gasped. 

“We should stop before Choso accuses us for fucking in here… again.” 

“Let him complain,” Sukuna said. His hand went under your shirt, tickling you until goosebumps riddled your skin. His hand covered your breast and you moaned louder than you meant to even with your lips pressed tightly together. You tugged at the short hair at Sukuna’s nape, not sure if you wanted to push him away or urge him on. 

“Okay, okay let’s slow down,” you breathed out. You baited Sukuna in despite knowing his high sex drive, and you didn’t know how much restraint either of you had left. It was hypocritical of you to say given that he stood between your legs that were wrapped around his waist. “I promise we will continue this later. You just cleaned up this place,” you laughed. Sukuna removed his face from your neck and stared at you with heady eyes. It made your stomach flip over but you shook the thought of continuing out of your head. “I promise, you can do whatever you want when we’re at home.”

“Whatever I want?” He said with a raised brow. 

You bit your lip mischievously. “Sure, why not? You know, I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo myself, but I don’t think I want one in a place where everyone can see. The quicker we get out of here, the quicker you can tell me the best place for your eyes only.”

Sukuna didn’t want to wait any longer. You were nothing but a tease and he would play along. There wasn’t a part of your body that he doesn’t know extensively, and he planned on marking the most private parts with his tongue and teeth before the needles. He threw your squealing body over his shoulder, grabbing your purse with his other hand and made his way to the front of the parlor. 

“Put me down!”

“I hope you guys didn’t do anything in there even if you cleaned up,” Choso scowled when he saw the two of you. 

“She never lets me do anything but my patience is running thin,” Sukuna rolled his eyes to Choso. 

“He’s joking, Cho. I wouldn’t dirty up your studio like that,” you mumbled, still over Sukuna’s shoulder. You shimmied out of his hold and Sukuna was quick to steady you on the descent down. Once you were on your own two feet again you hooked your hand in the crook Sukuna’s arm. 

“Good. At least one of you has manners.”

“I try for the both of us,” you wave on your way out of the building. Sukuna catches the keys that you throw in your direction with ease, and you sit comfortably in the passenger seat while he takes you home. Somehow you managed to get all the paperwork needed for Sukuna, or more accurately, Uraume did all the heavy lifting, and he was now a full fledged member of society. Getting him to work with Choso was a happy accident. Sukuna admitted to you that he did his tattoos himself, and it made the gears turn in your head. Choso didn’t ask any invasive questions, and was glad to have extra help. Choso told you that Sukuna was popular with the ladies even with his bluntness and clear rejection. The thought of it made you smile. Try all they might, other women didn’t stand a chance with the dark magic and centuries of affection between you and Sukuna. 

“Remember when you tried to kill the mailman?” You pointed at the delivery truck that was stopped at the same red light in front of you. Sukuna smirked, fond of the memory as well.

“I protected you, did I not?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. Everybody’s terrified to leave a package on the front door now.”

“A job well done then.”

“I guess so,” you giggled. You gazed out the window and sighed at the setting sky. “It’s starting to get dark early. The sky is already pink like your hair.” You had said it so softly Sukuna wasn’t sure if you had meant for him to hear it. Your face was completely turned from him but you traced your fingers down the veins of his right hand in your lap. It amazed Sukuna how you echoed yourself from years ago. You were the only person who ever saw beauty in him or compared him to the mundane. Many people said his name as a curse, he preferred it that way, yet you said it like it freely, often with a smile tugging your lips. 

“Choso informed me that he will be going on vacation soon,” Sukuna said, tasting the new word in his mouth. “Should we travel soon ourselves? Do you still enjoy the ocean?”

You whipped your head around and your eyes lit up at his question. “I love the beach.”

“Then we will go,” he nodded. “I will take care of it.”

“Music to my ears. Just let me know when I have to take off work.” You pressed a kiss on his cheek. The action made the tips of his ears flame despite the fact that he has and will do raunchier acts to you. A very long horn interrupted your lovestruck staring contest to remind you that you’re holding up traffic at a greenlight. Sukuna glared at the driver behind who promptly stopped their honking and you snorted. Sukuna’s hand remained in your lap until you returned home.

“Hey honey,” you sang to Cleo who purred against your feet as soon as you opened the front door. “It looks like I left my music playing by accident. At least you weren’t bored.” 

You picked up her and spun her around to the beat of the song. It ended with a flourish, and so did her patience to be carried. Cleo hopped out of your arms and disappeared behind the couch. A new song with a melancholic melody started and your eyes brightened in Sukuna’s direction. You held your hand out for him to take.

“Dance with me?”

You positioned his hand on the small of your waist then clasped the other one tightly. You were expecting awkward shuffling to ensue, but Sukuna led the dance far better than you imagined, guiding you around the open space of your living room with ease. 

“My baby, my baby. You’re my baby, say it to me,” you hummed along.”I usually only sing that part to Cleo but you bumped her out of her spot.” 

“The cat will be fine,” Sukuna grinned. Never would he have thought that being called someone’s baby would give him such joy. Cleo would have to understand. “You like this singer. We should have her perform here.”

You paused your swaying to give him an incredulous look. “Here? In the living room?”

He stared at you like it was a normal luxury to spend money on. Times like these reminded you that Sukuna hasn’t been a constant fixture in your life as much as it felt like it. Even with all the catching up he has done, tiny, humorous remarks always fell through the cracks. 

“I don’t think she does house calls… but we can go to her concert. We’ll put it on the list of all the things you have to experience.” 

A new mark on Sukuna’s finger caught your attention. You turned his hand over to get a better look, and your breath caught once you saw that he had tattooed your initials on his ring finger. It was peeking out from beneath the silver wedding band that you two had bought a year prior, in the same sharp style that matched everything else on his body. 

“Well now you have to tattoo me!”

A wicked grin cracked Sukuna’s face. He laid you down on the couch, nudging your legs open with his knee. You rested on your elbows as you watched him rub his hands up your thighs. There was hunger mixed with admiration in his eyes. You tugged the belt loop on his pants so that he would fall right on top of your face. You rubbed your nose on his cheek before he leaned down to whisper in your ear. 

“Let me find the perfect place to mark you as mine.”

Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

More "Bumblebee and Optimus meeting as ✨Adults✨ but still being Father and Son" stuff I came up with, plus extra because I can't get these chuckle-fucks out of my head.

Link to my prev. post for context. incase yall missed it bc I'm not explaining myself, we're just diving right into the deep end

Edit: i entirely forgot but i have a third one.

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

Bee knows Optimus isn't one for physical affection, and he fully understands and accepts that. He doesn't want to make Optimus uncomfortable by disrespecting one of his boundaries, that's just a shit thing to do. And Bumblebee is not a shit person. But... he's also desperate. Look, being deprived of physical parental affection your whole life fucks you up something good, let Bumblebee tell you, it makes you do some odd shit just to get a taste of what you've been missing out on. And! And most of the stuff Bumblebee has done are perfectly normal things to do! Plenty of casual stuff, leaning against his chair to look at what Optimus is working on, high fives and fist bumps (Optimus rarely, if ever, does these but for Bee he'll do anything just to make him smile, see Optimus acting totally normal about his feelings what are you talking about), leaning against him for a second when he's tired, totally normal! There are, less normal things, like when one of Bee's legs nearly got torn off on a mission and Optimus had to carry him back to base and Bee curled up close in Optimus's arms the whole time- because of the pain, totally 100% definitely only the pain that was Not mostly taken care of by some field anesthetics. It felt nice to be carried like a kid, sue him.

Getting injured is a special case with giving and taking affection. For example, when Bumblebee had to drag Optimus to a med bay after he passed out from a mission. They were walking into the common room together; Optimus was telling Bee he was fine when he CLEARLY wasn't because he didn't want to wake the medics for something as Trivial as THEIR LEADER and FREIND'S HEALTH (Bee is this close to strangling him) when Optimus just pitched over onto the floor.

Optimus, clearly tried and hurt: I will be fine, there is no need to wake the medics, I just need some energ... *faceplants*

Bumblebee: What did I say? What did fragging I say?! *Hefts Optimus's limp body onto his shoulders* fragging, stupid, slagging, moron, 'I don't need a medic, I'll be fine' he says, if I had been the one doing this, you would have torn the base apart getting the medics up, fragging idiot. *drags Optimus's body out of the room*

Optimus: *Mumbles something about not wanting to bother anyone*

Bumblebee: Too fragging bad, big man, you are going to take care of yourself and you're going to like it!

So now Bee has to drag a bot much bigger than him back down the hall and into the Medbay, just because Optimus was being fucking stupid. Yes it looks as funny as you're thinking. Optimus is semi-conscious but delirious as they make their way down the halls of the base and says "I don't want to take anything that would be better served helping any of you, I care about all of you so much I don't want to see you hurt. I love you." and Bumblebee's like Optimus, I feel so loved and so angry right now, but fuck what you want you're getting taken care of. No, you did not just make my fucking day, I lOve yoU tOo dAd-. He gets Optimus into the medbay on a berth then goes to forcibly wake the medics up to calm himself down because he is seconds from crying.

Optimus eventually gets better with affection, and now Bee gets a hug whenever he asks. He has yet to come down from this high.

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

Bumblebee calls Megatron his "Shit Ex-Stepfather". The entirety of team prime thinks this is hilarious. Even Optimus can't help but smile, though he tries to hide it. Someone, probably Jazz, changed Megatron's file name to "Worlds Worst Stepfather". After the war, if Megatron is still alive, he will mysteriously acquire some kind of award saying "Cybertron's #1 Worst Stepfather". He is very confused.

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

If you could get Optimus drunk, he would become such a sap. Like, insufferably soft and emotional. And he would be talking about Bee damn near the whole time. He would be so annoying.

Optimus: *Drunk* Did I ever tell you about Bumbl-bee? He's, he's my boy, my bumble boy, my gold'n boy, my buzzy boy, my sweet cheese. An, he's really yellow, you'll know it's him, he looks like- he's really yellow, it's hard not to see him, but he's really really good at sneaking. Even though he's so yellow. He can sneak around so good, no one sees him. I can see him, 'cause he's my boy. He can sneak around and nooo one finds him, 'cept me, 'cause he's my boy. He can hide so good, he hid under sshockwave's chest once. Riiiight under his eye, his big purple eye. Bee's so funny, he tells such funny stories. He tells his stories better then me, they're a lot funnier. I'm not good at funny stories. He's really good at it. He's really good at lots of things. Bee's so cool. I'm so happy he's here, he's so cool and funny and nice and cool. And he fights real good too, he's so cool. he once- Bee once punched my ex once, right in the face. Riiight in the kisser, just, boosh. My ex sucks, Bee's so cool. I like him, he's my boy. An-and he taught himself how to do aaaaall the cool things he does. He didn't have anyone to teach him, he did it all by himself. All alone... I wish I met him sooner, when he was small. He says he was really cute when he was small and I want to see him small. I like him big though, he's really fun when he's big. He's- *Sobs* He's my booooy, and I love him so muuuuch.

This continues for hours. Luckily he never drinks so no has to suffer through this.

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

If you thought Optimus was the Serial Adopter, you'd be wrong. It's Bumblebee. No bot is safe from his clutches. He scoops up family members like a pelican scoops fish. Optimus is barely aware of how many family members he technically has, he stopped keeping track a long time ago.

Bumblebee: *Bursting into the room dragging some bot he was on an extended mission with* OPTIMUS, I GOT ATTACHED AGAIN YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER FAMILY MEMBER

Optimus: *Not looking up from his data pad* That's great, son, go put it with the rest.

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

Optimus would be such a good grandparent. In the future, after the war ends, Bumblebee comes into possession of a kid; whether he finds someone and takes them under his wing or he just fucking makes one, I don't know nor care, but he gets a kid. And when he introduces them to Optimus, Optimus just fucking melts. He was already a huge softie before but he's so much worse now. He goes full grandma mode. He has snacks in his pockets (or whatever bots have) that he sneaks to the kid every time he sees them. He gives them money at random. You best believe he would destroy anything that even looked at his grandbaby wrong (Bee: Optimus, stop attacking the door. Optimus, the door just bumped them, they're fine. Dad stop, omp(rimus))

The "Bee finds a kid and both of them get attached and now are a family" is the funnier option. Because the kid knows who these guys are, they saved Cybertron. The kid's still getting used to having Bee as their guardian, so when they meet the 13th Prime: Holder of the Matrix of Leadership, Savior of Cybertron, they don't expect Dotting Grandparent Extraordinaire.

Bumblebee: and this is Optimus Prime. He's your Grandpa.

The kid : *nervous* He's my what?

Optimus: *on the verge of tears* mY grAnDbABy-

The "Bee made a kid" version is still pretty funny.

Bumblebee: *Exasperated* Optimus, give me my child back.

Optimus: *violently crying* nO, It'S mY bAbY nOW.

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

Imagine, if you will, Optimus and Bumblebee sitting on a roof together, not talking, not touching, just watching the sun set. Just enjoying the silence together, maybe with some energon to go with it. Because they get it, oh they get it. Sometimes you just need to be alone with someone. That good mutual respect and love from a found family that understands you. this is why I need bee to be an adult, I need both of them to be hurting and find some comfort in each other, to find solace in each other, to be a family and to be equals, is that too much to ask?

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

A list of things Bumblebee is allowed to get away with:

Interrupting Meetings to Tell Optimus Something, important or not (hi dad)

Casually touching the Usually Touch Adverse Optimus (Physical affection ftw)

Calling Optimus out on his self-sacrificial bullshit (you're going to see the medics and you're going to like it, old man)

Using the three points above to drag Optimus into the Medbay by force (Ratchet is so smug about this)

Getting Optimus to do something fun and relaxing (father son bonding time, as Bee says.)

Swearing aggressively (for everyone else it's unprofessional, for Bee its therapeutic. He stretches this excuse as far as it goes)

Making Insulting comments about others to their face (look they deserve it if the Perpetually Friendly Bumblebee is saying it)

Talking about Megatron (Usually team prime avoids talking about Megsy outside of war related convos out of respect for Optimus's history with him. Bumblebee does not give a shit, Megatron is a bitch and he's going to make his opinions known (Everyone thinks it's funny dw))

Illegal activities (this fucker street races in every universe, you think he isn't doing shit like this on the daily?)

Murder

Stealing/Sneaking snacks (he shares with Optimus)

Making jokes about Optimus being his dad (he thinks it's funny bc they're not related and they met like 6 years ago. Optimus explodes with emotion every time bc you consider me good enough to be your dad?)

Bee is a fucking menace, Optimus loves him so much.

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

Misc. funny word vomit I came up with that have no context, reason, or sense

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Optimus is working at a desk focusing on some data pads. A tiny energon cube flies into frame, bouncing off Optimus's forehead and landing on the desk. Optimus grabs the cube and eats it without looking up from the datapad. A few minutes pass, another energon cube flies and bounces off Optimus's head. He eats it without looking. Bumblebee is sitting off to the side in the room with Optimus with a bag of energon snacks, periodically throwing one at the distracted Prime. This is Bee's and Ratchet's newest scheme to get Optimus to actually eat, and it's working splendidly. (Actually, Bumblebee originally was throwing the energon onto the desk, but over time he got bored and started just throwing the cubes directly at Optimus. He hasn't noticed any of the cubes hitting him at all, so Bee's started trying to do trick shots.)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Bumblebee?"

"Absolutely, now throw me."

"Alright... Three, two, one- Ngha!"

*distant loud metal slam*

"..."

*distantly* "I'm good! We're in business!"

*quietly* "oh thank primus..."

*distantly* "Okay, I'm done. I'm coming back down."

"Wait-"

*distantly* "Hup!"

*loud crashing metal noises*

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's early morning, everyone got back to base late the night before. Everyone is tired. Optimus is sitting at the table in the common room, slowly drinking a cube of energon. His eyes are half open and bleary. Bumblebee is beside him, head in his hand, dozing. Bee's head falls from his hand and slams onto the table. Optimus doesn't even blink at the noise, just takes a sip of energon.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bumblebee takes a lot of pictures. Mostly of his team. He's pretty sneaky about it too, usually just taking a capture from his visual feed and saving it to his personal datapad. And at a glance none of the pictures are all that special, captures of a group of bots hanging out between missions, selfies of Bee and company on missions, drunken mishaps, quiet moments, he's got this really funny one of Cliffjumper stuck in a storage closet, but Bee keeps all these photos out of sight. The others are aware of his habit but they never see most of the photos, they never ask. Bee only opens his photos folder when ever he has a quiet moment alone and just scrolls through, reminiscing. His favorites are the ones where he caught someone's genuine smile. Sometimes they're in the background of a larger group shot, or it's just them smiling at Bee in conversation. He's got a lot of Optimus's smile. Optimus doesn't smile a lot, but he always seems to smile when Bee's around. Bee's proud that he can do that for him.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this could literally be anyone on team prime: *teasing* You playing favorites, Prime? Giving Bumblebee all this special treatment is making the rest of us feeling left out.

Optimus: You all treat him the exact same way I do.

again, literally anyone on team prime: ... Touché, Boss bot, touché...

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

After spending an extended period of time in close proximity to Megatron (for what ever reason), Bumblebee and Optimus talk.

Bee: You had terrible taste in partners.

Optimus: *sighs*

Bee: Physically, I can see the appeal, but everything else is a wild thing to say yes to.

Optimus: ...

Bee: His personality, his interests- just why none of that clocked you onto how fragged up he would be is beyond me.

Optimus: ........

Bee: You're not stupid, I hope that your next partner will be leagues better than him. Ratchet maybe, oh or Elita, they would make great partners (and even better step-parents), or maybe-

Optimus: CanwePleasestoptalkingaboutmylovelife??

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bumblebee: If you get back together with Megatron I'm disowning you.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

BB: This is... so dumb.

OP: The higher I am the better I can see.

BB: You can- You can fly.

OP: Hush now Bumblebee! I am searching...

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk man, brain rot hits something different when I think about it for long periods of time

[kayesfanfics]

Belmont! Reader with a hint of x Alucard

You and your brother could be a lot alike; brash, sometimes arrogant, cocky, sometimes lazy. You were less sarcastic and rude to other people and usually saved that for banter with him, as Trevor would %1000 start fights with his siblings no matter how old he was, he’s always going to be somewhat of a man child. You were always the more mature one even if you were only a year or two older than him, you often had to save his ass from people or vampires he pissed off. You enjoyed traveling with Sypha as the two of you could gang up on him and give him a taste of his own medicine

After joining Alucard in the mission to kill Dracula, you and your brother led the two to your family’s hold to find proper weapons and information to carry out said mission. You sat in the back of the wagon with Alucard while Sypha sat up front with Trevor, directing the horses and leading the way back to the Belmont estate. Alucard was often watching as the trees passed by, deep in his thoughts as you boredly tapped your foot on the wood of the wagon floor, eventually annoying him enough to send you a glare and make you stop

“So like…how can you be in the sun?”

“I am half human. Some things don’t effect me the way they do full blooded vampires.”

“Do you have to drink blood?”

“Sometimes.”

“Can you have garlic? Or is that just a myth?”

“Is there a point to all these questions?”

“I’m bored.” You shrugged, tired of listening to your brothers and Sypha’s squabbling about directions. Alucard simply raised an eyebrow at you, before continuing to answer any questions you had about his physiology and his father and the castle

Once you all stopped to make camp for the night, you collected firewood with Trevor, who immediately started bugging you

“I heard you two getting quite personal back there.”

“I heard you and Sypha getting quite personal up there.” You repeated, shoving him away from you as the two of your carried firewood back to camp

“I’m just saying, you seemed a bit too curious.”

“And? This is any of your business because?”

“Because I’m your brother! I’m supposed to look out for you!”

“I’m older than you! I can handle myself!”

“So? I’m stronger than you!”

“I’m smarter than you!”

“I’m taller than you!”

“I’m-“

“Are you two bickering again?” Sypha interrupted as you both reached camp. You both froze and cleared your throats awkwardly before setting the wood down for her. She rolled her eyes at the two of you, but mostly towards Trevor as you too rolled your eyes at him, before huffing and sitting next to Alucard, who side eyed you but didn’t say anything

After a couple days you finally reached the Belmont Estate, feeling a pang of nostalgia and grief hit you when you saw it in ruins as you left it all those years ago. You and Trevor led the speaker and the vampire down into the Hold, beginning to search for information to aid you all in battle. You watched Alucard gaze at a display of vampire skulls, including one the size of a child, before searching for books near him

You heard your brother gasp and rush over somewhere, before dragging out a large chest. Your eyes widened and you rushed over, your eyes widening in disbelief when you saw the glorious weapon inside

“The Morningstar…” You both breathed, amazed by the artifact as Trevor gave it a test swing

“It’s mine.”

“No way, I found it!”

“I’m older! It goes to me first!”

“Does not! Go find your own weapon!”

“Are you two fighting over that UGLY thing?” Sypha asked, looking at the weapon in disgust. You gasped dramatically at that, before telling her about how glorious it truly was. You bickered with your brother over it before you finally lost the argument, glaring at him before storming off to find something else to use

“That is quite childish, Belmont.”

You turned and saw Alucard flipping through a book behind you as you opened another chest of smaller weapons. You poured and ignored him, which made him chuckle at your slightly puffed out cheeks and furrowed brows

When night fell, you found a rather uncomfortable place to rest, finding a large cloak that belonged to an ancestor to curl up in next to a small fire in a lamp you made. It felt weird being back home, it was too quiet and still for it to be home, but yet it was. Alucard must’ve noticed the melancholic look on your face, as he brought his stack of books over and sat across from you, reading by the lamp light. You smiled at the gesture and sat with him in the comfortable silence, watching the fire flicker and listening to him flip the old pages of the books

“Alucard?” You finally worked up the courage to gain his attention. He didn’t look up from the pages of the book, but acknowledged you with a response.

“Please, call me Adrian.”

“…Adrian?”

“Y/N?”

“Will you be able to do it? Will you be able to…to kill your father?”

He looked up from the book, but he didn’t look angry or sad. He looked determined and deep in thought like usual, carefully searching for the right words.

“Yes, I will. It needs to be done, and I’m afraid I may be the only one that can do it.”

You looked up at him solemnly, looking into his eyes and seeing a hint of premature regret and sorrow. You could tell this would be harder for him than he was letting on, after all, just because he was a genocidal maniac, Dracula was still a father. You gently took the book from his hands, and he let you, before moving over to sit with him. You offered part of the cloak to him, to which he accepted and sat closer to you.

“I know we don’t know each other very well yet, but we’re all here to help you. I know my idiot brothers been giving you a hard time about it, but I know you can do it. Even if it’s going to be hard.”

He gave you a small smile, before quietly saying, “Thank you, Y/N.” You smiled back before resting your head on his shoulder shamelessly, feeling him stiffen up a bit but slowly relax to your touch as you began to doze off.

“Goodnight, Adrian.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

[w2soneshots]

Oh Haz -W2S

words: 0.8k+

warnings: angst, commitment issues.

summary: Harry freaks out and bolts when you tell him that you love him, so he has to figure out a way to make it up to you.

notes: hello loves! I have a few requests to write but I thought of this fic all by myself🙊 (for once😅). I hope you enjoy!!💘🫶🏼

"So you told him that you love him and he just... left?" Talia asked in disbelief as we ate lunch. I nodded. "What a prick! Did he say anything?" "No. He stuttered for a second then got up off the bed, grabbed his coat and made a b-line for the front door." I replied. Me and Harry have been seeing each other for almost four months now and I've known that I love him for over a month. I decided to wait a little while because I didn't want him to freak out but it seems I should've waited even longer.

That night, after talking things over with Talia, all I could think about was him. Worried in case I'd completely fucked everything up. Eventually I decided that it wasn't my fault. If he wasn't ready to commit after a whole four months then maybe he didn't like me as much as I thought he did. I just wanted him to text me because I wasn't sure what was going on. The last time I spoke to him was the night he left, I've heard nothing since then.

The next day I got up and got ready for work. I took a shower, brushed my teeth, pinned my hair back, applied a little bit of makeup then got dressed into a matching skirt and blazer suit along with tights and some black heels. After quickly eating some breakfast I grabbed my bag and drove to the building in which I work.

The day dragged on and so I couldn't wait to get home, get into my pyjamas, order a takeout and watch some trashy tv. Once I was finally finished I said good night to my boss and headed home.

My heels clicked on the tiled floor as I walked towards the front of my apartment. My brows furrowed as I noticed something on my doorstep. Once I was a close enough I realised what it was. I picked up the bouquet of white flowers then unlocked my apartment door and went inside.

I set the flowers on my kitchen counter and walked into my bedroom to change into some comfy clothes. Once I was finished I took a closer look at the roses. A note was placed inside. I pulled it out then opened it. The note read: "I'm sorry about the other day. Can I make it up to you with dinner tomorrow night? -Harry x" I smiled. He could've just sent me a text but this was way cuter and meant a lot more.

I sent him a quick message: "thank you for the flowers. Do you wanna meet at our usual spot at 7 ish?" He replied quickly, "yeah, that's perfect. See u then." I set my phone down and enjoyed the rest of my night but not before I called Talia to tell her about what had happened in the past twenty minutes and she also thought that the flowers were adorable.

After getting a good sleep I woke up in a great mood. Thankfully it was also my day off so I went to run some errands before I came back and began getting ready for mine and Harry's date. I took a warm shower, took time to do my hair and makeup then slipped into a cute dress that I had brought earlier that day. Once I was finished I left my apartment and drove to the restaurant me and Harry always go to; since we both love it and it's where we had our first date.

I parked my car then headed inside. I was quickly met with a waitress who took me to a quiet table at the back. Harry hadn't arrived yet so I sat patiently on my phone while I waited.

"Hey." I looked up to see Harry. "Hi." I stood to greet him. We shared a quick hug before both sitting down. "How are you?" He asked. "Good. You?" It was awkward, which is what I expected. "I feel awful, you know- because of the other day. I owe you an explanation." He began seriously. I smiled lightly at him since I could tell he was very nervous.

He took a deep breath. "I uh- my last relationship was really fast and it ended quickly as well. I think I freaked out because I um- I didn't want the same thing to happen with us 'cause... I love you, like a lot." He didn't look me in the eyes until he said the last sentence. My features softened. "Oh Haz, I understand. We can take it as slow as you need. And I'm really relieved that you feel the same." I replied.

The mood changed quickly and we enjoyed our night like nothing had even happened. Harry invited me over to his apartment afterwards and as we lay together on his bed, my head rested on his chest and his fingers gently playing with my hair, I felt so happy.

[urfavfakeblonde]

can u write a smut where fem reader is a virgin and stiles is some what experienced and stiles goes slow with her??

ₛₜᵤdy ₛₑₛₛᵢₒₙ

hi!! yes <3 thank you so much for requesting love

Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader

warnings: lots of foreplay!! fuffly, fingering, HEAVY makeouts oml, game sex??? idk lol, p n v, virgin!fem!reader, implied!experineced!Stiles

mdni

I cautiously walk up the steps to his house, nervous fingers picking at my chipped nail polish. I take a deep breath as I knock on the door lightly, my other hand fiddling with the ends of my hair. It's just a study session, stop shaking. At least that's what I tell myself before the door opens softly, and I'm face to face with Stiles. He smiles at me, and I almost forget how to breath. "Hi," I say with a smile, eyes avoiding his gaze. He moves to the side to let me in, responding with a 'Hey'.

"Thanks for coming over," he says, closing the door gently. My mind is swirling with thoughts, emotions-- and honestly, I don't know how I'm going to get through this evening. "I'm pretty sure you understand English a lot more than I do," he remarks, turning around to face my timid figure. I smile, blush creeping onto my cheeks. "I don't know about that," I giggle, looking around the house as if I hadn't been here before. But before, I mean that was just a pack meeting, this--this is more than that.

Well, not really, were just studying, but this is the first time it's just been me and Stiles. Alone.

I follow him up the stairs, and into his bedroom. "Where's your dad?" I question, setting my bag down beside his bed. "Work," he replies, sitting at his desk, shoving aside all his crime papers. I nod, even though he can't see me, and look around his room. A simple grey wallpaper, the typical teenage boy posters; half-made bed, a lamp, and of course-- lots and lots of papers. Eventually, we sit on the floor, looking through my notes, (because stiles didn't take any) and write his English paper. "Okay, I'll quiz you. What's a Caesura?" Stiles thinks for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as he lies on his back. "When the punctuation is in the middle of the poem before the line ends?" He finally says, glancing up at me. I smile and nod, flipping to the next flashcard.

"Okay, what's a Syntax?" He looks back up at the ceiling and furrows his brows. "No clue," He utters, sitting upright. "It's the-" suddenly he takes the flashcards out of my hand as I give him a confused look. "I was gonna tell you what it was," I say, sighing. He looks at me, and I feel my heart flutter. Pink starts rising into my cheeks again as he holds the flashcard in front of him. "Tell me what it is," he asks. "Why? You're the one who needs the help Stiles-" he cuts me off by shushing my lips with his finger. My heart literally skips a beat as he slowly drags it down, my lip following obediently. He moves his finger back to the flashcard, an action that he believed to be nothing but innocent. He asked me something again, but I continued to stare at him, specifically his hand. "Y/n?" He asks, shifting his head to capture my eyes again. This stopped me from zoning out; quietly clearing my throat. "Sorry," I mumble while my fingers pick away my nail polish again. "What's a Syntax?" He asks again, eyes boring into mine. "The way the piece is structured," I say as he smiles. It's quiet for a moment, and when my eyes lift up, my gaze is locked with his.

"I have an idea," he says, standing up. He reaches his hand out for mine, and I take it hesitantly. "You've been helping me, it's only fair I help you." He says, pulling me to my feet. When I'm up, I notice how close I am to him, especially that he hasn't let go of my hand. I swallow hard, trying my best to maintain eye contact with him. "We'll play a game; you ask me questions and every time I get one right you have to take off one of your clothes," he whispers softly. My eyes widen, and I feel my heart starting to beat faster. "And if you get it wrong?" I whisper back, leaning in closer. He just smiles as he dips his head, connecting his lips with mine.

I cannot believe this is happening to me. I am fucking kissing Stiles Stilinski, my crush since elementary school and God does it feel just how I always imagined it would. The kiss is gentle, caring. I pull back slowly as I make eye contact with him again. I swallow hard and feel my hands start to shake a little in his soft hands. "Um, I've never really...kissed anyone before. Well, before now," I whisper, nervous beyond belief. He just smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "See? You teach me, I'll teach you." He gives me a comforting smile before cupping his hand behind the base of my neck, pulling me in for another kiss. This time, it's more feverent, hurried. Like he was going to lose me if he stops. I learn as he kissed, opening my mouth enough for his tongue to slip in, a gentle hum coming from my throat.

My hands, more comfortable now, move up to dance through his dark hair, nails gently scratching his scalp. He was taller than me, causing my head to have to lean up just to kiss him, but it felt magical. I felt safe in his hold, rough, but gentle hands tilting my head up to meet his kiss. He pulled away enough to kiss down my jaw, down to my neck as my head tilts back with eyes closed. My fingers continue to dance through his hair, a soft whine releasing from my mouth when he found my sweet spot. I felt him smirk against my neck, mouth traveling back up to meet my mouth again. He moves me backwards, letting us fall softly on the mattress. He kissed back down my jaw again, but further this time as he reached my collarbone. He sucked a hickey on the side, causing my core to ache and clench around nothing. "fuck sti," I whine, letting my hands fall to his biceps. He liked the nickname--I could tell; a soft smile forming on his kissed lips as he rested above me.

"Ask away," he whispers, leaving sloppy, wet kisses all over my neck. In a way, it was all almost too overwhelming, but somehow it felt like it was supposed to happen. I couldn't focus, not with my core aching, legs moving softly as if to get some release. "What's a -fuck,-an enjambment," I ask, hands roaming his body. "Mhm," he kisses my collarbone again softly, lips trailing to my ear. "When the line ends with no punctation," he says, smirking as I nod. He lets his fingers dance under the hem of my shirt. He slowly peels it off, letting it slide over my head before throwing it on the floor somewhere behind him. He's quick to kiss my stomach, my body arching up into his gentle touch. "Next," he whispers, kissing the tops of my breasts. My breathing intensifies, hands running through his hair again. "How do you spell philanthropy," I ask, my teeth catching my lower lip. He looks up at me and grins, as he licks his lips. "If you wanted me to take my shirt off, all you had to do was ask," he chuckles, leveling his face above mine. "That's not how the game works, " I giggle, running hands down his arms. "I bet you don't even know how to spell that," he smiles, taking off his shirt.

The navy-blue cloths fall onto the floor with a quiet, thump as he repositions himself above me. "But you wouldn't know if I was right, would you?" I playfully ask, biting my lip. He chuckles softly, catching my lips in a kiss once again. My fingers trace his stomach, soft enough to make him shiver. "What's a metaphor?" I ask as he looks down at me. "A figure of speech when a word or phrase is applied to an object or action that has no real relation to the word," He answers proudly. This time, his fingers dance under the hem of my jeans, before his fingers undid the brass button and zipper. He helps me drag them down, before adding them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. "Fuck," he whispers under his breath, eyes taking in the thin white panties that so effortlessly match with the bra. I bite my lip, trying to overcome my nerves. My body wants to close up, run away but I can't bring myself to do it. Not when he's looking at my body like he wants to fuck me till morning.

His fingers hover above the straps along my hips before lifting them up slowly before letting them snap back against my skin. I gasp, the wetness in my panties growing larger, it was almost embarrassing. "How do you spell rhythm?" I ask, a grin forming on my face. He rolls his eyes, kissing my stomach. "r-y-t-h-m-n," he answers, confident in his answer. I giggle and shake my head, "r-h-y-t-h-m-n," I say, watching as he sighs in defeat. He slips off his jeans, throwing them in the darkness somewhere. "Okay, I see how it is ms. I'magoodspeller," he says, messing with the straps of my bra. My face starts to flush, the realization that this answer could leave me bare in front of him.

"How do you spell Indispensable?" I stay silent. I have no fucking clue how to spell that word. Fuck. "I-n-d-i-s-p-e-n-s-i-b-l-e?" I answer. "Wait no, it's with an "a"! I-n-d-i-s-p-e-n-s-a-b-l-e!" I say quickly, trying to retract my previous answer. "You got it wrong the first time, no take backs," He chuckles, hands slowly lifting down the straps to my bra before reaching behind my back to unclasp it. It lays limp until he slides it off my arms; perky nipples on display as goosebumps litter my body. He lets his eyes linger for a moment, admiring the sight before him. "Fuck you're pretty," he whispers, his rough hand moving up to massage the soft flesh. I bite my lip, watching as he leans down, pausing for a moment before taking the bud into his mouth. "Oh shit," I whine, my hands returning into his dark hair once again-this time pulling and tugging. He swirls his tongue around before sucking it gently to let it go with a soft pop! He kisses between my breasts, taking the other bud into his mouth to give it the same attention.

My body arched up into him, my clothed clit brushing against his hard erection in his boxers. "Please Stiles..." I whine, my core pulsing at the lack of attention. "I know, I know," he whispers, sucking onto that sweet spot once again. His hand finally travels lower, antagonizingly slow I might add, as he slips his fingers over my white, lacy panties. He begins to rub small circles over my clit, kissing my neck, jaw and chest as I arch into his touch. He brings his lips back up to mine, accepting my moans as he fastens his pace. My legs wrap around his torso, my aching and empty hole begging to be fucked for the first time. "Sti-I, fuck, please-" I whimper, head thrown back in ecstasy. God if he can do this with just his fingers-no his hand, then fuck. The wet patch in my panties begins to grow, fingers rubbing fast and small circles around my bud. "please, please, please...fuck sti!" I moan, hips moving back and forth to fasten the rhythm of his hand.

Suddenly, he slips his fingers into my panties, letting a digit slip into my sopping hole. I moan loudly into his mouth as he kisses me, letting another digit in to fuck me softly. My body starts to shake from the overwhelming feeling, the band breaking as he curls his fingers into my G-spot. My mouth opens as a loud moan escapes me, body shaking as he slips his tongue into my mouth, fingers riding out my high. "That's it, I've got you," he coo's, kissing my neck as my body settles down the shaking. I close my eyes, sweaty body breathing heavily against his chest. I feel him slip my panties off, throwing them in the pile of jeans and shirts. "You okay?" He asks, caressing my face softly. I nod, licking my lips. "I want more," I whisper. "Please." He smiles at my question throwing off his boxers. "Whatever you want," he answers, kissing my cheek. He leans over to his drawer, grabbing a condom as he slides it over his length. He leans down to kiss me as he moves his hands under my legs, bending them forward as he pushes into me. I let a satisfied whine out into his mouth, the feeling of him inside me already feeling so good. He kisses me deeply, letting his tongue explore my mouth. He starts slow, letting his forehead connect with mine, heavy breaths coming from our mouths.

"Fuck you're amazing," he groans, pushing out slow before bottoming out quickly. This let moans come as they will, back arching off the bed, and the steady shaking from my legs to make it all feel so lifechanging. It didn't take long before I felt the cord in me about to break again, my hands cupping his neck as I moaned out soft praises. "Sti-" I whine, met with a groan from his lips. "Fuck, I know, me too-" he says, fastening his pace. My legs began to shake once again, breathing becoming heavier than before. "Fuck, please Sti-oh shit," I moan, hips meeting his thrusts. The cord finally snapped, body arching up off the bed as Stiles kisses my neck again. "Fuck," he groans, pulling out quickly to release in the condom. He lays next to me, tracing my stomach softly. "Are you okay?" He whispers, sitting up. I nod and smile, glancing at him. He smiles back, going to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and return with a wet rag. He drags it across my body, soaking up the sweat and spit from his kisses. "You wanna stay the night?" I nod as he leans down to kiss me.

[seriesxwriting]

Interested

Pairing: reader x Stefan Salvatore

Series: tvd, the vampire diaries

Summary: All Stefan keeps talking about is his ex. That’s not what a girl wants to hear her crush talk about.

Warnings: drinking, kissing, I don’t think there’s any swearing but you never know with me.

“Elena Elena Elena” I rolled my eyes flopping onto my bed. Caroline sat at my desk watching me with one eyebrow up. “I can see it’s bothering you” she slowly lowered her eyebrow and put her hands together. I rolled onto my side looking over at her. “It’s all he ever talks about” I sighed making my eyes turn in. “One, don’t do that it freaks me out” Caroline shook her head. “And two” she started as she stood up walking over to the side of the bed. “Look I love you y/n but when it comes to men- you’re flirting isn’t really- the best”.

“Oh so it’s my fault he can’t get over his ex” I sat up straight at a quicker pace than lightning. “No” she snapped at me “I’m just saying Stefan probably doesn’t even know you’re interested, if he did he wouldn’t be talking about other girls” “oh but it’s not just any other girl- it’s Elena, she’s so perfect, she’s so pretty”. Caroline rubbed my arm sympathetically with a tiny smile. “Show him you’re interested, he probably will be too”, “but what if he’s not, what if he really is still in love with her”.

“Then that’s his loss, not yours, you get over him and show him how it’s done” Caroline winked at me perking up slightly. I chewed on my lip thinking about it. “Okay, I’ll up my flirting game” I nodded my head and rubbed my hands together as if I was creating some manipulative plan to kidnap him or end the world. “Atta girl, you’ll see him at the party right, there’s your chance” “Stefans picking me up” I stood up going over to my wardrobe. “Really? He told me he couldn’t drive me because he had plans before it and they might run over” Caroline scrunched her face in deep thought at my blue rug laying on the floor.

“Caroline, focus- what the hell do I wear” I ordered bringing her attention back onto me standing in between hangers upon hangers of clothes. “A dress, what about that white one your mum brought you for your birthday?” She shrugged, her eyes lit up and she snapped her fingers when the idea came to her. “This one?” I questioned pulling it out and holding it over my body. “Yeah wear that, it’s well cute- with the boots you had on when you came to sleep at mine last week” “casual but cute, I like your thinking” I nodded hanging it on my wardrobe door.

“Right babe I better get a move on, I need to be ready for six I’m catching a ride with Elena and Damon” she told me standing up and collecting her stuff putting it in her bag. “Alright care I’ll see you later thanks for everything” I walked over and we embraced each other sighing into one another’s hair. “Chin up, practice some flirting- maybe watch a YouTube video” she offered up as she stepped back. “I’m not doing that!” I sniggered shaking my head. “Your loss” she shrugged giggling silently as she left my room. Leaving me to my own devices.

I pulled the dress down and put it across my body holding it up in front of the mirror. It took me just over an hour to get ready. I had a shower, blow dried and curled my y/h/c hair. Before putting on my outfit. I tried on about five coats to see which one was the best. Eventually I went with a black bomber jacket. And with that the time turned quarter past six, the door bell went off on the dot. So Stefan Salvatore of him. I smiled grabbing my bag and jumping towards my bedroom door knowing who was downstairs. I grasped the handle taking deep breaths composing myself.

I walked down the stairs, my house was empty right now as both parents were away on holiday in England. I wondered to the front door as my heart pounded against my chest. I yanked it open and there he stood with tulips in his hands and the famous Stefan smile. He looked so cute. “H-hi” he stuttered as his eyes dragged down me blatantly. “You look- amazing- stunning- well… beautiful” he stuttered unsure of what word he wanted to use.

“You cleaned up too- are these for me?” I raised my eyebrow at the gesture. “Of course” he smiled passing them across to me. “They’re gorgeous, I can’t believe you brought me flowers” I smiled from ear to ear. “Come in while I buy them in a vase”. My mind raced, why had Stefan brought me flowers, was this a date? No we’re just friends right. I came back out the kitchen and he’d been waiting in the hall. “All ready?” I quizzed grabbing my bag that I’d left on the side. “Yeah, let’s get going” he nodded his head out the door. “Elenas already there”.

“Of course she is” I gave him a fake smile sighing before coldly grabbing the Handel and walking out first. “And Damon and care of course” Stefan told me following me out, though he had to raise his voice a tad because of the distance I’d gone. “Lift the Handel up all the way” I ordered not even turning around. I heard him do as I said before joining me inside the car. “I think we’re all really in need of this bonfire party” Stefan began as he drove off my drive.

“Mm me too, it’s been a stressful few months” “uh huh especially with all the elena stuff going on” Stefan laughed but again my eyes subtly rolled and my stomach sank. Could he go five minutes without mentioning her. “How about we stop talking about Elena for tonight, what better way to get over her than at a party” “oh I’m over her” Stefan chuckled re gripping the steering wheel. “Well a party is definitely in need, never know who we might meet”. “It’s mystic falls everyone knows everyone” Stefan shook his head. We turned into the woodlands where the party was happening.

We could already see the cloud of smoke rising from the fire. The crowd circling round it, chatting and drinking. “Park over there that’s Bonnie’s car” I pointed out but Stefan was already turning into a spot, I noticed Damon’s car being right next to us. “It’s alright this one’s bigger”. Sure it is Stefan sure it is. We both got out and soon made our way towards the people. “Let’s grab drinks first” his hand attached its self to my lower back as we waded through the crowd. I felt my heart pound and it made me relax into him.

We grabbed two beers and by the time we’d turned around elena was running up to us “Stefan! Y/n!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and then did the same to me. “Hey” I answered bluntly with a flick of my hand. “I started to think you two weren’t coming” “we just got- held up” Stefan struggled looking at me, I smiled knowingly and a warm sensation came across me knowing Elena had no idea what we were talking about.

Damon strolled over coming to say hi to us. “Well come on, everyone’s over near the bridge” he nodded his head. “we’ll catch up with you soon” Stefan shrugged answering before I could. Him saying that made me really excited, I wanted it to just be me and him so I could up my flirting game. “Oh come on stef I haven’t seen you in ages no one has apart from y/n, come and catch up with everyone”. His eyes flicker between me and Elena for a second or two. “Alright” he smiled simply and Elena squealed. “Come on then” she grabbed Damon’s wrist and Stefan started following them nodding to me to come with him.

We landed at the group where Bonnie, Tyler, Caroline, Matt and Jeremy were all waiting for us with smiles. We all exchanged hi’s and then jumped into conversation. My excitement was short lived, I loved my friends but I just wanted some alone time with Stefan. Though I wasn’t complaining too much because he didn’t really leave my side the whole night. We stayed in the same position talking, laughing and drinking for most of the night. Though Bonnie and care soon dragged me over to dance and I brought Stefan with me.

“How are you so good at this!” I laughed as Stefan spun me around and pulled me towards him. “I’ve had years of experience” he smiled close to my face. My hand was on his shoulder and the other his bicep while both of his were wrapped around my waist. “Have you always liked dancing?” “When I can dance with someone as pretty as you” he nodded making me smile again. “Stefan- Stefan!”. And just like that our moment was ruined. He pulled away from me and Elena ran through the crowd her eyes were full of tears.

“What’s wrong?” “Damon’s left- we got into an argument and he stormed off” “what about?” His eyebrow raised “I’ll explain it all to you, can you take me home please?” “I…” Stefan looked at me. “Bonnie will take you home- or you could call a taxi” I offered to Elena. “I know I know- I just really want to talk to you Stefan, you understand me in a different way and im hysterical right now” she wiped her eyes sitting back on her leg. “It’s okay I’ll take you home” he nodded completely pulling away from me now and standing on her side.

She threw her arms around him thanking him. “I’ll see you later y/n” he rubbed my arm before him and Elena left the crowed. I watched them walk all the way over to the car. “I’m sorry girl, she ruined your moment I thought he was going to kiss you then” Caroline came round with her hand on my shoulder. “No- he wasn’t” I shook my head. “He’s not over her, I’m going home” I smiled at her with tears In my eyes. “But he’s coming back for you” Caroline shook her head.

“He’s not care, he’ll be with her all night, I’m calling a taxi” I nodded hugging her before removing myself from the crowd. I waited for the taxi on the main road and it took me promptly home. As soon as I got in my removed the stupid dress and put my pjs on. I thought I was doing alright until I stepped into the kitchen for some water. I saw the flowers. My heart shattered. Tears slowly fell down my face as I realised I was never getting him. He didn’t love me like he loved her. I slid down the wall and took a seat on the kitchen floor.

I didn’t know how long I’d been there crying just staring at the flowers trying to make sense of them. A knock on the door pulled me out of my day dream. I wiped my face and went over to the door. When I pulled it open Stefan stood there. I blinked confused about why he was on my door step. “What do you want?” I asked harshly. Which maybe was a bit mean. “Well- I went back to the party to find you but care said I’d messed up and just kept tutting at me” he struggled still looking a bit confused. “So you came to check on me?”

“You look like you needed someone to check on you, are you crying?”. “No” I answered bluntly moving my eye contact to the ground. Stefan squeezed past me walking into my house and turning into the kitchen. He switched the kettle on and got two cups out while I closed the door. “You just inviting yourself in now?” “Nope you already invited me in once, we’re going to sit down and you’re going to tell me what’s wrong- or what I done wrong”.

“You haven’t done anything wrong Stefan- it’s nobody’s fault” “so why are you talking to me like I’ve done something wrong?” He raised an eyebrow walking towards me. “Because it feels like you have but I know deep down it’s wrong to blame you, you can’t help it” I sighed looking at the floor. “Help what?” He quizzed lifting my chin up with his hand. “That your not over Elena- that you love her more than you’ll ever like me, and that’s not your fault that’s mine- I fell for you at the wrong time and I put my hands up for that and honestly you can’t help who you like and even though it’s not me I shouldn’t blame you for that because…”

“Y/n!” “Stop talking!”. I looked up at him with full eyes. “Let me just finish explaining- I don’t want you to think I’m…” and with that Stefan cut me off by pressing his lips onto mine. “Why are you kissing me?” I whispered against his lips. He kissed me again for a second or two before admitting “I’m interested in you y/n”. Hearing that made me pull him closer to me and make the kiss harder. His hands held my waist close to him. When we eventually pulled away he put his forehead on mine. “If your interest in me why’d you drop me for Elena constantly, why do you always talking about her with me”.

“I don’t drop you for her y/n, she’s delicate and even though we aren’t together I’ll still look out for her, I made her a promise in the same way that she is now my sister in law, she’s family so if she needs me I’ll be there but I will always be back for you y/n- I came back for you tonight”. I bit my lip feeling slightly bad for not thinking about that. “And the reason I’m constantly bringing her up- is because… you reached out to me after the break up and we grew close immediately, I just didn’t want you to go anywhere”.

“That- doesn’t make sense” I shook my head completely confused. “I thought if you thought I was healed you wouldn’t want to see me as regularly because I wouldn’t need you”. “So- you pretended to miss her because you didn’t want me to leave?” “I didn’t think it through- I panicked” he sighed stepping backwards clearly embarrassed that I’d caught onto it. “So- you’re over her?” I looked up at him hopeful.

My eyes sparkled with tears, Stefan took that step back toward me and cupped my face. “Very much so, yes” he nodded in a whisper. “I understand if you don’t believe me- I shouldn’t have done what I did I can’t imagine how it made you feel” he sighed brushing my cheeks with his thumbs. I put my hands around his neck shaking my head. “I believe you Stefan” “you believe that I’m interested in you and you only?”. I nodded my head but couldn’t help the little corner smile.

“That’s what I wanted to see, there’s my girl” he whispered as my smile grew and my cheeks burnt red. “I’m all yours” I whispered running a hand through his hair. “About time”.

Stefan masterlist-

Tvd masterlist-

All series masterlist-

Masterlist of masterlists-

[bluecollarmcandtf]

How to Use Your Meat Suit

I can't believe how awesome this weekend was! Let's just say that the perfect way to avoid a hangover is to just possess randos to take the hit for you!

It all started on Friday, when I took Tyler just as he got out of practice. He never saw it coming, and once his body was an empty suit for me to wear, I was ready to hop in and have the best night of my life!

I could actually feel the lingering adrenaline from his workout, and it was exhilarating! I tossed his bags aside and ran to my house party down the street, which was easy with his limber legs. Everyone went wild when I showed up as the star basketball player. They didn't care about his BO; they were just happy to watch me flex those freshly pumped arms.

Friday night went by in a flash of loud music and crowded dancing, but a lot of people started wondering why Tyler got piss drunk and began grinding against all the guys.

I don't have much to say for myself other than I may have put a little too much alcohol in his body and lost control. Drinking makes me horny, and I sure did not care about Tyler's former reputation. People might not think of him as the cool lady-killer he used to be, but that's not my problem.

Anyways, I dropped his body when a cop busted us around 4 am. I could barely stand, I was so drunk, so I'm not surprised Tyler collapsed to the floor the second I stopped puppeteering him.

I jumped into the policeman who'd shown up.

It was weird to go from blackout drunk to stone-cold sober, but I quickly gathered my bearings. Now in control of the cop, I pried the drink from Tyler's sweaty limp fingers and sloppily swallowed it all! The crowd went wild, and the party raged on.

And just like that I went back to dancing and drinking, only I was now wearing the body of an on-duty police officer.

Being a little more sober, I spent the early hours of Saturday morning trying to hook up with someone. I think most of the guys there were a little too intimidated to be talking to a cop, but I eventually found someone.

This guy walked up to me and called me a pig. I think he was trying to offend me, but he only succeeded in turning me on. I pulled him close and oinked in his ear playfully. He got the message and dragged me to an upstairs bedroom. The rest of the night was a blur as I continued to down drinks, but I could definitely tell that my date was getting off on degrading the officer I had on.

The officer's body eventually collapsed to the floor in a drunken exhaustion, so I jumped out. It was almost midday by then, so I ventured outside and found someone else to possess.

There was this construction site across the street. Several of the workers were idly chatting about the nearby house party that was still going strong.

Without warning, I hopped into the contractor; he was the only man there that wasn't fat, old, or ugly. He certainly smelled ripe, but I rather enjoyed how filthy he was. Wearing his masculine body instantly tented the pole in his jeans, but I didn't bother trying to hide it from his coworkers.

I quickly ordered them to take the day off, which left them mostly confused. I'm sure I was acting out of character, but I didn't care. I just waved the team away, and marched down the street to a bearby liquor store.

There, I fished out all the cash in the guys wallet to use on booze. It was a good thing his body was strong enough to haul it all back on his shoulders. Though the party was starting to wind down, it quickly revamped when I restocked the drinks. Before long, I was back to drinking and dancing on any guy who'd let me, only this time I was wearing the construction worker's body.

That party lasted all weekend. It quickly became a legend on campus for its good luck and neverending supply of liquor. No one knew that it was all the work of some friendly ghost. I just wanted everyone to have a good time!

The three guys I possessed didn't have the best time though.

Tyler woke up at some point with a splitting headache and no memory of all the twerking and flirting he'd done the night before. He did eventually hear stories, which left him feeling utterly humiliated. His teammates never let him live that one down.

I don't think the cop lost his job, but he was reprimanded for not reporting in after his shift. I think the officer was just glad none of his colleagues knew he'd woken up in the middle of a college party, his uniform soaked in alcohol and who knows what else!

That construction worker woke up just before his next shift. He was completely confused and hungover, but he stifled his worries and shuffled across the street. He was more than happy to just show up at work like nothing had happened.

I'm thinking about throwing another party next week. The Dean of the college has a pretty large house, and I'm sure his students would love to see me letting loose in his body...

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Divisa || Three

Paring(s); LADS OT4 x reader (not mc)

Word count; 2,119

Themes; reality hopping, alt universe (same universe but things are a little...different), doppelganger, multiple endings, slowburn

Warnings; excessive swearing

Notes; It's been a hot minute 😭 I apologize since this isn't the "Twist of Fate" update, but I felt more inspired to write for this fic rather than ToF. I'll eventually get back into it, but this is just me trying to gradually get back into the swing of things! I still don't have a set update schedule though 🤔

prev || next

☆ masterlist ☆

Well, at least you don't need to worry about why Sylus mentioned the Moonflower apartments now.

Though you do wonder how Sylus knew that both Ezekiel and your mother lived there, but the incident was probably covered on the news and that's how he knew.

The incident being when one of those blue gates appeared in your parent's apartment and your mother went missing from this world. You can't help but feel a bit sympathetic toward the man who was supposed to be your father.

It's heartbreaking to imagine…

The sheer terror of a rift opening in the safety of your home, you and your pregnant wife getting trapped inside of it, having to protect your wife and your unborn child…It made you wonder how your mom got back home in the first place.

But since you can't exactly ask her right now…

“Dear?”

The older woman jingles a pair of keys in front of your face.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” You quickly shake your head and take the keys. “I can't remember if I said it, but thank you so much. I really appreciate this.” You drag your thumb over the ridges on one of the keys while Josephine walks with you to the door.

“Don't thank me now. The place is probably a mess — I haven't cleaned it since Ezekiel moved out…Poor fella.” She clicks her tongue with a sigh. “Anywho, if you're anything like your ma, you'll be looking for a job so I recommend checking out the cafés and shelters around here. You're bound to find one that's hiring since everyone and their mothers wants to be a hunter nowadays...Unless you do as well?” She glances toward you and raises a brow.

“Ah, a hunter?” You let out a small scoff as you unlock the door. “I'd never put myself in that kind of danger — at least, not willingly. But thanks for the advice, I'll take a stroll around Linkon tomorrow.” You pull down your mask to smile at Josephine.

“Gosh…you really do favour your ma a bit.” She places a hand over her chest with a distant look in her eyes before she blinks it away. “I'll see you tomorrow, dear.” She gently pats your shoulder and you finally step inside the apartment.

You take your shoes off at the door and flick the lights on to take a look around.

You notice multiple picture frames, funky painted walls, hardwood floors…This place was surprisingly clean and it felt so…lively despite you being the only person there.

A few of the frames were empty, but one catches your eye.

You gently pick it up and sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

You know you're not a crybaby, but…fuck did you miss your mom. You wipe the dust from the glass and a tear drops onto the photo. You groan and tilt your head back, quickly wiping your tears so you could properly look at the picture.

It was a much younger version of your mom with a heavily pregnant belly. A bright smile on her face and an even brighter man next to her. He was practically sunshine incarnate. His hand was lovingly, gently cupped over her stomach with their heads resting atop one another.

It made you miss the person your mother would've been, had you been raised here with your father.

Would she have been happier?

Did she regret having to come home with only you?

You didn't even know why she didn't bring Ezekiel back with her, but something tells you that it was your fault…Though you had no one to verify this with.

You set your bag down with a small sigh and pull out the notebook you got from the store.

With everyone being so different, you weren't sure if any of your knowledge from the games would help at all…but it wouldn't hurt to write everything you know down.

All of the guys know each other? At least, to some capacity.

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel; all know each other

Zayne…

The main protagonist (Gemini) and I are both present

Evol…Do I have one??

Xavier and Gemini 100% know each other, they work together. Rafayel might know her as well, if he recognizes my eyes

Josephine isn’t Gemini’s grandma?? She didn't mix us up

The Chronorift Catastrophe never happened?? rifts have been around for over 23 years, my head hurts

You rub your temples with a sigh.

You haven't written down much, but your head is already starting to pound with an upcoming headache.

You're not even sure what else to write down.

…Maybe you should just sleep it off and wake up tomorrow for a fresh start.

…You wake up bright and early the next morning, still unsure of where to go from here. If the timeline doesn’t match the one in the games, then what all is different in comparison?

All of the guys besides Zayne seem to know each other, but they could know Zayne as well — you just haven’t made it that far yet. Josephine isn’t Gemini’s grandmother, unlike the games, so does this mean Caleb doesn’t exist as well? Is there even an N109 Zone? There has to be since the Nest is still in operation.

You rub your temples as you get up from your parent’s bed.

There’s too much to think about. You’ll focus on the difficult stuff later. First things first, a job would be a good start. While you do have a considerable amount of cash, seemingly too much for the collection of coins and old money you had, you weren’t sure how long you’d be here and money is important.

And an ID. But even if you had your birth certificate, it would be odd to show people from 2048 a birth certificate from twenty-three years ago…Hopefully you won’t need your ID for anything.

You take out your phone to skim through the guidance tab on ‘Love and Deepspace’, making sure to memorize the names of places, just on the off chance anyone asks. You won’t know where they are, but you’ll at least know what they’re talking about. Oh and you’ll have to 100% avoid going to the hospital, or at least Akso Hospital since that’s where Zayne works — If that part of the timeline hasn’t changed.

You throw on some casual clothes you bought from the convenience store, since your other clothes looked too dated, and put your face mask on. Your phone slips into your back pocket and you shrug your mini-backpack on before heading out the door. Locking the apartment behind you, you head into the city and try to access the maps feature on your phone to show you where to go but, of course, it doesn’t work.

Geez, do you have to get a new phone too?

Whatever, wandering aimlessly around it is then.

The sidewalks were densely packed today and it appeared that most people were in a rush. Were they running away from something or hurrying to work? Your eyes skim over an alleyway nearby, just in case you needed a place to hide, and as you took one more step, you heard everyone’s phones (besides your own) chime with an alert.

The holographic billboards high above buildings went from saying “Welcome to Linkon City, home of the largest Hunter’s Association” to a crimson red colour.

“Alert, Alert!” You recognize the circular robot speeding around the area as an OTTO-PHO from Glint Photo-studio. “Large metaflux readings for this area. Please get to a safe space until hunters arrive and assess the situation. I repeat, large metaflux…”

You tune the rest of the message out as you hear your heart pounding in your ears. Really? Another rift opening in your vicinity in under a day of being here? You’re not the main character here.

What’s going on?

A large, almost neon, blue oval shape appears in the middle of the street causing cars to slam on their breaks. Other vehicles follow suit, some crashing into the rear ends of the cars in front.

The sound of tires screeching, people shouting and running out of their vehicles with children wrapped in their arms…

The rift is a deep shade of blue on the inside, seemingly infinite in size. It reminds you of a starry night sky, but you shake off your awe as creatures begin to step outside of the rift.

They’re grotesque and gangly things, covered in a hard exoskeleton, with long, spear-like appendages growing from their arms.

Wanderers.

You turn to make a run for the alleyway that you spotted, but your body freezes up as you hear a little girl screaming for her sister — they must’ve lost each other in the crowd. When you look back at the child, you notice she’s in the middle of the road, but still close by you.

“Fuck, this is a bad idea…” You grumble under your breath, because you surely can’t leave a child to die…right? And with that, you take off running.

You lift the child up behind her knees, holding her against your chest as she cries, and you make a run for the alleyway, but now it feels so far away. You hear a wanderer growl behind you, feel a sense of impending doom and your chest tightening up with anxiety.

The wind whipping as the wanderer reared its arm back to swipe at you both…and then silence.

When you open your eyes, you see dark reddish black smoke fading away from your body and realize that you’re in the alleyway. You and the girl in your arms are safe, but how?

You lift your hand up to inspect it before you hold your arm out toward a can in the alleyway. You focus on it and suddenly that same mist coils around the can, and brings it toward you.

Why do you have Sylus’ evol?

As if to distract you from these thoughts, the crying child taps you on the shoulder as she sniffles, “Miss…Did you save me?”

“No, I…Well, technically yes, but…” You really didn’t want her to tell anyone about this power — whatever it was — because you did not want to be a hunter. Not if you had any say in it. “I get it! I won’t tell. You’re like Lumiere or…Spiderman from my dad’s old comics! A super secret, super hero.” She giggles, clapping her hands together and you can hear a woman yelling on the other side of the road.

“Kara!!”

“Oh! That’s my sister. Her and her hunter friends must’ve taken care of the bad guys!” She seems excited, however it seems she doesn’t plan on running to her sister by herself.

“Can you…”

“My legs feel like they don’t work…Can you take me to my sister, please?” Kara pouts down at you and you sigh before reluctantly nodding your head, “Alright, but remember — “

“You’re a superhero, I know! I won’t tell. Tara has enough hunter friends, so I’m finally happy to have my own.” She rambles as you head outside the alleyway, before you pause.

…Tara?

Oh, that’s just great. Hopefully she doesn’t recognize you.

You continue your walking, hand gently cradling the back of Kara’s head so she doesn’t turn her head and see all of the wanderer carcasses on the road. Even you felt a little sick at the sight. Don’t they usually just dissipate and go away?

You felt sorry for whatever sorry soul was stuck with the cleaning duties around here. “Kara — Oh my goodness, thank you so much!” You eventually make your way over to Tara, the familiar UNICORNS co-worker of the main character. She takes the child from you and holds her tightly, “What did I say to do whenever we hear the warnings?”

“To run in the opposite direction?” Kara sighs, resting her head on Tara’s shoulder with a pout. “Exactly, I didn’t say ‘stand there like a fish out of water’! You could’ve gotten really hurt if…Sorry, what’s your name?” Tara looks over at you with a smile as she holds her hand out, “The name’s Tara.”

“Uh…” You hesitate for a moment. It’s not like you could tell her your name since you share it with her co-worker, but…Tara is also pretty down to earth, so she might just see it as a coincidence. “Y/n.” You try your best to smile with your eyes as you shake her hand.

“Oh, really? That’s so cool! I also have a friend by that name. She should be around here too!” Tara turns around to shout, “Hey, Y/n, come here for a sec!!” But when she turns back to continue speaking to you, you’re already gone.

All that remains where you stood is a faint mist.

Taglist; @ladyparamount , @the-love-of-my-life96 , @rui-drawsbox , @deputy-videogamer , @yoongi-tunes , @fallenfromgrxce , @msturi2u , @myheartfollower, @schwnapps , @m00nchildwrites , @black-girl-anime-lover , @shypotatoes013-blog , @mitzkooni

[sunshine-theseus]

That One Cat Meme | Ona Batlle x Reader

Words: 1.6k Summary: Ona gets angry when you randomly disappear but it’s hard not to find her adorable Warnings: idk overstimulation? Hints of being neurodivergent – based on my experiences as someone who gets very overstimulated and loves routine/thinks they’re ND but isn’t diagnosed with anything. Requested by - @dandelionlibrary - i really hope you like it!

It was a mistake. A very, very big mistake. There was so much noise and light, and people were basically stuck together like glue. It was hot too. How is anyone supposed to survive in this place?

The team had begged me to join them, just once, for a celebratory drink at a club in the heart of Barcelona. After months of refusing, always coming up with excuses and waiting for Ona to arrive home in the sunless hours of the morning, I finally caved. I regretted it the moment the uber turned onto the street. Lights were flashing through the windows and the music could be heard down the block. People were lined up as far as the eye could see. There was no way I was going to have fun.

But I went.

In the beginning it wasn’t so bad. Ona was with me at all times, and we spent a lot of time in our reserved, spacious corner of the club. Until Lucy and Keira grabbed us both by our hands and dragged us onto the dance floor. I tried to wriggle free, but their determination was enough to overpower a tipsy Ona and a vulnerable me.

“Isn’t this fun!?” Ona yells into my ear. I try not to flinch at the additional noise as I nod my head.

A lie.

“Muy divertido!” (very fun)

There was a small moment where I managed to slip away into the bathroom. By some miracle it was empty and seemed rather clean for a night club, so I locked myself in a stall and just sat on top of a toilet lid. I tried to monitor my breathing and block out the bass that travelled through the floor. I couldn’t survive much longer. I needed to come up with an excuse to leave.

I slowly emerge from the bathroom and go find the group of girls huddled in the corner. I had an excuse fully prepared but as I’m making my way, someone grabs me by the waist and starts kissing my neck. I’m about to turn around and wack them with my purse when they begin to talk.

“Mi vida! Where did you go?” the familiar deep voice of my girlfriend echoes from behind me and I relax.

I stop my shaking hands by placing them over her own that rest on my hips.

“Just the bathroom. I think I’m going to head home.” I turn and give her a smile that clearly doesn’t reach my eyes.

She says something else to me, but I can’t focus on anything specific, everything was too overwhelming. Eventually Ona walks off and I’m left in the middle of a crowd again. I can feel every place on my skin where someone makes contact with me, my clothes aren’t sitting well anymore, there are too many sounds, the lights hurt my eyes. I had to get out.

-

That’s how I found myself curled up in a ball on the rather small balcony of Ona and my apartment. My noise cancelling headphones were securely on my head and I’d successfully rid myself of the horrendously tight and itchy club clothes, switching into one of Ona’s oversized jumpers and some shorts. My phone was turned off and I was just embracing the small bouts of wind and the barely visible stars in the dark night sky.

I don’t expect my girlfriend to be home until much later, so I eventually tuck myself in under the blankets. I loved our bed; it was a lot less overstimulating than a club and usually had the girl of my dreams to hold me tight. Despite the missing final aspect, I drift off to sleep.

I wake up late, Ona by my side as expected. The day off means that my schedule is simply pushed back a few hours and I have spare time to fill.

9:30am – wake up

9:36am – have breakfast + talk to Ona

10:05am – shower and get ready for the day

The middle of the day’s schedule on days off changes depending on who I’m meeting or what I plan on doing. Most of the time it involves Ona.

But Ona didn’t emerge from the room at 9:40am like she usually does, instead showing her face at almost 10. I decide I can push back my day just once to still fit our morning talk. She doesn’t greet me first. Perhaps it’s the hangover, they often mess with our order. She also doesn’t kiss me on the cheek or offer me the glass of orange juice she does every morning, despite always already having a glass in front of me.

“What’s wrong bebé?” the older girl says nothing as she sits down at the table with a bowl to fruit and a glass of water. Odd. Not her normal hangover cure.

“I don’t have anything planned for today so we can just turn the lights off and watch a movie? If your head’s hurting.” I can see her lips twitch at the suggestion, but her face remains stoic.

“Okay, I’m going to have a shower. Maybe we can talk about what’s bothering you afterward?” once again, no reply.

-

I do just as I tell Ona. The shower is set to the correct temperature and my clothes don’t make me feel like I’m suffocating once I get out. I grab some pillows and blankets to lay out on the couch and turn off the lights, settling for the small lamps on either side of the living room. The curtains help block out the sunlight that would be streaming through the windows.

Ona is still sat at the table, fruit and water finished, scrolling on her phone.

“Coriño? Con qué película quieres empezar?” (Honey? What movie do you want to start with).

Usually, I would avoid encroaching on someone’s personal space when they are upset without them asking, but Ona made it very clear physical touch was something she embraced at all times. That’s what lead me to wrap my arms around her shoulders and press kisses to her cheek gently. Hoping for some reaction.

The only thing I get in return is her arms stubbornly crossing over her chest and her lips forming a pout.

Adorable.

“Are you mad at me coriño?” another kiss is placed at the curve of her jaw.

Her lips pull taut and her cheeks flush pink. It’s hard to be intimidated by someone so cute.

“Sí.” She stands abruptly and the sound of the chair scraping against our wood floor makes me feel sick.

“You disappeared last night without telling anyone. And then you didn’t answer any of my texts! Or the girl’s! Yes, I am angry because I was worried mi vida!” Ona’s arms once again cross over her chest and her foot stamps against the ground.

Despite the sight, I begin to feel bad.

“Ona… I didn’t mean to make you worry. I got overstimulated. Everything was just too much. But I told you I was going to go when we talked outside the bathroom.” A look of confusion is clear on her face, and I sigh, approaching her again.

“You asked me where I had been, I told you I went to the bathroom and that I think I needed to go home. I don’t blame you for forgetting, you’d had a few drinks, no thanks to Mapi.”

“Yo soy estúpida. I am sorry for being angry and ignoring you. And I’m sorry I forced you to go somewhere I knew would probably make you overstimulated.” (I am stupid). Ona’s head dramatically falls forward onto my chest as she groans.

“It’s okay. You’re very adorable when you’re angry.” I press a kiss to the crown of her head.

“No I am not!”

“Sí! Yes you are! You pout and cross your arms and you even stamp your foot. Tu tambien eres muy pequeña.” (you’re also very small). I pull away from Ona and smile at the blush that still radiates from her cheeks.

“You remind me of that little kitten meme.”

“What?” I pull out my phone and search for the photo I have in mind.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Just that you look very cute.” Another groan falls from her lips, and I laugh as I drag her to the couch.

She falls on top of me and I wrap my arms tightly around her, pressing kisses all around her face.

“You have to watch that silly adventure man movie with me.”

“Indiana Jones? You know I hate that guy. He’s so stupid.”

“But I like him, and you caused me great distress!” her laugh slips past her lips and I can’t help but smile and oblige with her request.

“You can only milk that so many times.”

“Mmmhmm.” Her head props up by her chin resting on my chest, and I lean down, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Te amo coriño.” I smile brightly down at her as the opening music plays.

“Te amo mi vida.”

Ona turns her head to watch the silly movie, but I can’t look away from her. Her freckles seem to shine brighter despite the lack of light and the slope of her nose is so delicate. The way her eyelashes kiss her cheeks and lines appear by her lips when she laughs at some stupid joke. Her hair is in a messy bun, yet she still looks put together.

I can’t help but fall in love with her all over again.

@Y/N_L/N

@Y/N_L/N do you guys see the resemblance?

ona.batlle there is literally no resembilence stop marialeonn16 i see it

[bnrab]

what is your deepest darkest sexual fantasy?

I don’t know if it’s deep, or dark, but I want a cute cuck boyfriend who doesn’t want to introduce me to his bestie and when I ask why he tells me his friend can be kind of a D-bag and his girlfriends always stop seeing him because they can’t stand how toxic he is.

Eventually I convince him a nice lunch to feel it out might not be SO bad and if I absolutely hate him then I can just not hang out with them together, I don’t expect him to cut his friends out for some hoe he’s been seeing for a couple months, right?

So we get together and surprisingly his friend is super nice and funny and cute and we all get along great, what’s the big deal? Were having a good time, drinking and laughing and then outta nowhere his friend starts groping my tits while I’m talking! I’m shocked and just look at my boyfriend like what’s happening but he’s just blushing and watching his friends hands on my tits and his buddy says, “it’s cool, he always lets me play with his toys.”

And it’s kind of hot but totally not something I’m just going to let happen so I push him off and argue that I’m not some action figure they can share and he immediately smacks me across the face and tells me to shut the fuck up and if he has to tell me again he’s not going to be so nice about it.

Now I’m fucking terrified and I look at my boyfriend again but not only is he not jumping to my defense but he’s rubbing himself through his pants and giving me the saddest puppy eyes like he’s so fucking sorry. I don’t have long to reflect on this because his friend is yanking my shirt down so my tits are hanging out and he’s pulling his dick free and grabbing me by the hair, telling me to be a good bitch and open wide for the treat. I don’t want to know what ‘not nice’ means because my cheek is still burning so do and I’m immediately choking and gagging as he starts brutally face fucking me, using my hair to force my head up and down on his cock.

He uses me like that for what feels like forever, stopping only to let me gasp for breath and rub his cock and my spit all over my face and hair. I’m sobbing by the time he yanks me up out of my chair and pushes me down against the table we were sitting at, knocking the dishes off to make room before he gets under my dress and pushes my panties down just far enough to ram his cock into me.

“Jesus Christ your bitch is so wet for me I just slid right in!” He reaches around and hooks his fingers into the corners of my mouth, pulling my head up so I can meet my boyfriends eye while he starts pounding my pussy and I’m horrified by the wet sucking sounds my cunt makes while he does and disgusted with how fucking good it feels to have his fat cock stretching me out, the animalistic grunts coming out of me every time he hits my cervix.

I can’t stop thinking about how much bigger he is than my boyfriend who has his cock out and is pumping it furiously while he watches us. Before I know it I’m bracing myself against the table and pushing my hips back to take him harder and deeper and he makes a comment about his I like his dick better than my boyfriends don’t I? And when I don’t hesitate to say yes my boyfriend cums hard coating my face and hair and aiming the last few spurts onto my stretched out mouth and it sends me over the edge too, wailing and moaning and begging like an idiot with his finger still hooked in my mouth for him to fuck me, to rape my pussy and breed me.

After he cums he drags me off the table and onto the floor to clean up his cock and I’m so dazed and fuck drunk I eagerly slop up the mess, going to far as to clean off his balls and thighs without even being asked and the whole time he’s praising my boyfriend for finally finding a nice girl who isn’t so stuck up and full of herself like the others.

I get now why my boyfriend didn’t want me to meet his friend, but it’s not that I’m never going to talk to him again after being treated like that like he was afraid of, the problem is that now I belong to my boyfriends bestie!

I still love my boyfriend of course, he’s such a sweet guy, we cuddle and watch movies. If his friend gives permission he can come in my mouth, or eat his besties cum out of my pussy or ass, but he’s not aloud to fuck my holes anymore, and honestly after getting fucked by a real man I wouldn’t even enjoy it 🤭

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Northern Attitude

Next chapter

a/n guilty... guilty... guilty... I caved in. I own up to my weaknesses. Promised myself to never write for this man and here I am now. This is my first time so be gentle. 🗡️🫧

summery: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: injuries, blood, bleeding out, alcohol, needles, death, trauma fun stuff.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You two hated each other. That was a fact, and there was no way around it. It was scowling glares, sharp jabs during training if you two were paired together, and bitter remarks thrown here and there. And the joy of it all was that Price had granted you a shared room on the base. First, the excuse was that there was simply not enough room; the team had grown. Then he said he wasn't having a team that was up on biting each other's necks out. So in conclusion, he had set it up on purpose.

Did it help? No. It was a disaster. The man was insufferable. And, in all honesty, you had no idea what you had done. You had thrown a sexist card at him multiple times because you simply couldn't find another reason for his unmeasured dissatisfaction as to why you shouldn't be here. Never had he said anything nice your way. You got it; the guy was secretive. You didn't need to look far. The fact that he never took his mask off was proof enough. But to be so against someone you didn't even spend time with?

"Clean your mess", Ghost huffed, dropping his wet towel on the bed. You lifted your head away from your book. At least you two had separate beds on the opposite sides of the room. "It's on my side", you said, pointing to the white line that Ghost had drawn on the floor like a kid the first night you dragged your stuff here. The rule was simple: you stayed on your side, he on his. The bathroom was the only exception. "Yeah, I have to look at it, don't I", he grumbled, tossing the towel into the laundry basket. You paid him no mind, your eyes turning back to the pages. "Poor you, does it mess with your posh tea time?", you chuckled under your breath, earning a growl from the other side of the room.

And that's how it went. More than not, you considered any word coming out of Ghost's mouth a win. Because a new tactic the asshole had adopted was pretending that you weren't even a thing. You were an actual ghost, and Simon didn't believe in the paranormal clearly. You fastened your vest, double-checking that your on-hand weapons were right where you wanted them. "Do you need me to do a touch-down for you?", your head darted up, only to be met with a smug-looking scot. Soap. You couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle. "Do you think that if you keep asking, the answer will eventually change?", you snickered back, shaking your head. Soap shrugged. "You tell me, bonnie?", the man teased back. Leave it to Johnny to joke around right before a mission. You hummed, "Maybe I'm more into you undoing it", Gaz snickered somewhere in the back. Soap's smirk grew even bigger. You knew that it was all good fun. Neither of them would make a move. They respected you. To most, you were like a sister. They had become your family. One you never had. Before Soap could say anything in return, the back door swung open, and in strolled Ghost. God, he looked good. Six feet of pure muscle. And when this man was in his full gear... You allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the way he looked before dropping your gaze. Suddenly, you were way more interested in the guns on the table than anything else.

Johnny came to stand next to you as the team gathered around the table. Price loved to gather everyone around before it all went off. John was like a father to most. You were no exception. You liked to tease the boys that you were his number one. His girl. And well, by law, you were. Considering that he pulled you out of the foster home, you owned this man a lot, even if he said that it was all in the past.

"You know the drill; go in, grab what you need, and get out. Try to keep it clean", Price said, pulling three sheets of paper and scattering them around on the table. "Soap and Ghost, you're together. I'll go with Gaz. Sugar, you're alone on this; we will clean the path for you, though". It was supposed to be a joke that name. You wanted something cool. Something as cool as Ghost, but Johnny was quick to remind you that his nickname was soap "And sugar", He had said, "That's quite literally white death". So it stuck.

You nodded your head, only to find Ghost shaking his. "Got something against it, LT?", you snarled. His eyes met yours over the table. With the war paint, his eyes were even more radiant. "She can't go alone. She doesn't know how to hold herself back and will do something stupid", now it was your turn to growl. Scratch the fact that you found this man attractive. You will suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep when you return to base. "Want to go with her, Ghost?", Price said calmly, knowing full well the answer would be a hard no. "We meet in the safe house afterward", Price continued without acknowledging the death glare Ghost was wearing, "Come back in one piece, you bunch". Everyone nodded quietly, reaching for the masks, double-checking the cartridges and radios. You were all climbing into the motorcar when Soap nudged your shoulder. "I'll hold you to the undressing part", he winked, hurrying to sit down. Your anger simmered down as you flipped him off in return, his laughter booming. It was Ghost, whose unimpressed eyes followed you two, gripping the gun in his hands tightly as he chose to stare ahead.

It was nothing—the mission. The base that needed to be checked out was pretty much abandoned. A couple of kills. A smoke bomb here and there. It was easy. Simple. They laid a clear path for you to do your thing. Your small frame was what they needed here. Air vents weren't the best of friends with hulky soldiers. "Do your worst, Sugar", Price had muttered into the radio some time ago. Your response was a cold, "Copy". The four of them were left to watch over the main entry points. Yet sending you into the belly of the beast felt wrong. At this point, Simon had lost count of the number of times he had reached for his radio, ready to call out to you. But he talked himself out every time.

"Got it", your voice pierced the silence. Ghost's shoulders drooped. "Good girl, bring it home", Price called back. Soap looked out of the window, "We should go meet them at the-", but his voice was cut by the cracking that came from the radio. Then it all died down. Silence. Soap locked eyes with Ghost. "Price, you copy?", Soap called out. Silence struck again. "All good here, you copy?", the captain called out. "Positive", Ghost muttered into the radio. Gunshots echoed deep within the base. It was you. The noise had to come from you. Ghost felt his heartbeat picking up. He had to find a way to get to you. To cover you. Yet the rational side of his brain screamed at him, saying that there was no way for him to do so.

The crackling filled the air around him once more as they rushed toward the spot where the team had agreed to meet. "Abort", your breathless voice came through the radio. "Get your asses out", you were panting. Ghost could hear you reloading your gun. "Sugar, what's the situation?", even Price's voice sounded more panicked. And the old man kept his cool. They all did. This whole shit could have been a setup for all they knew. Even outside, the sound of bullets pierced the silence didn't ease. Simon wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but your labored voice still twisted at his heart, "Get. Out."

The safe house had never felt so quiet. Usually, at least Soap was a never-ending chatterbox. Now the male stood in front of the window. Not moving. His eyes were glued to the forest in front of him. Price was half a bottle down on the bourbon. Gaz's leg hadn't stopped bouncing. They all had minor bruises, but that was expected.

"We need to go back", Soap said, rubbing his palms together. "You know that we can't, Johnny", Price puffed out a cloud of smoke. He was no doubt thinking of ways he was going to break the news to his wife. "She wouldn't fucking leave us", Soap snarled back. You would expect a handful of army men to be able to hold their composure in situations like this, but... You had dragged them all out of a dark pit. You were undoubtedly good at what you did, yes. But you offered much more. The safety blanket. A proper homemade meal when there was time, and that was a lot for a man who had been stuck in the base for months, missing home. There had been so much more laughter and smiles since you joined the force. As if you had breathed back humanity and a sense of life into their ice-cold bones. And now they all had to go back to...

The handle of the back door creaked. All four of them reached for their guns in unison. But no one besides them was supposed to know where the keys had been stashed. A lucky coincidence? The odds were too slim. But the door jerked open, and they all lost the breath they were holding.

"What a fucking greeting", you muttered, dropping your helmet to the side. Soap moved toward you first. Simon would have loved to beat him to it, but he found himself sitting back down, his legs suddenly feeling wobbly. "Here", you yanked the chip from your vest, pushing it into Soap's hand. "Mission complete, captain", you eyed Price. Before moving to undo your gear. "How many?", John asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. The blood on your forehead was crusted. But the sound of drops hitting the wooden floor was constant. "Six", you breathed, moving to undo your vest, and that's when the first growl left your lips.

"You're bleeding", Johnny breathed, reaching for your shoulder, but you pulled away. "I'll lick my own wounds", your tone was cold. It was colder than it usually was. Ghost watched you slowly walk towards the stairs, but not before you had reached for the Bourbon. "I'll come to stitch you,", Price had called out, only to be harshly cut off with a harsh, "No".

You locked the doors behind yourself. Your vision was going hazy. You had managed to get away. You had no idea how because there had been a moment when you were sure that death was standing right behind your back, breathing at your neck. You had killed before, had blood sprayed all over you. Yet something about this felt different. Maybe it was the fact that there was a moment where you weren't the one in control. When they had managed to yank you across the floor by your ankle. You shivered at the image of a knife being jabbed on either side of you as you dodged blow after blow.

Your hands gripped the sink. You will do this. You will patch yourself up. Swallow a couple of pills and go to sleep. You knew there was no way you were getting your shirt off, so you wasted no time as you sliced the fabric with your pocket knife, wincing. Slowly peeling the damp material from your shoulder. Would this be easier if someone else did it for you? Yes. But you didn't want anyone's hands on you. Not now. Not when your brain was still fuzzy. The trickle of blood ran down your chest and through the sports bra you had on. You knew what followed next. You've done it multiple times. Drink bourbon. Splash some on the wound. Dig the fingers in to fish for the bullet. More bourbon. Stitch it up. You ran yourself through the steps one more time. One more look in the mirror before you force yourself to do just that.

Simon's hands were gripping the chair he was sitting on. Every little whimper from upstairs ripped at his composure. Stubborn girl, never knowing how to accept help. And a whimper, a whimper he could handle, but when a loud cry filled the quiet space, Simon was up and going. Every other step was skipped, and he was right in front of the second-floor bathroom. Hand on the handle as his shoulder hit the locked door. "Open up", Ghost banged his fist into the surface. "Go away", your voice was barely audible. Too long. He had sat downstairs for too long. He should have come barging in the moment you tried to play a big girl. Should have carried you back downstairs. "Don't make it bloody difficult", Simon's voice was husky. His own body ached, but he wasn't about to sit back and watch you bleed out.

You didn't answer him. "Sugar", he called out, "Open the fucking door, or I will break it", he wasn't even sure why he was bargaining with you now. But he respected your privacy. He always did. Even in the room you shared. His face was always facing the wall when he knew you were taking a shower. Just in case you had forgotten your clothes and would need to quickly get to your side of the room, this was different; his stalling could cost you your life. So he doesn't say anything else. Backing a couple of steps back, Simon braced himself for the impact. The hinges were old, so one shove from him was enough to break them; the rest he could handle with his two hands.

Ghost's breath hitched once more. "Stubborn, bloody woman", he hissed. The floor was covered in your blood; there was not a single clean towel. Your figure was slumped by the bath. "Price", his voice was more of a roar that made even you jerk your head up. "Get out", you breathed, trying to put distance between you two. "Like fuck, I will", Simon grunted, reaching towards you, his palm pressing into your shoulder. You cried out, your nails digging into his wrists, but the pressure didn't ease. "Fucking hell", the captain called from behind, "Get her downstairs".

"No", you hissed as Ghost lifted you, "Get away". But you knew that it was over now that they'd seen you. Simon tried to lower you down, but you whizzed in pain. "From the back", you say through gritted teeth. "What?", His eyes searched yours; you knew he was struggling to understand you. "The bullet", your breath, "from the back". Simon's eyes darted up to John, who slowly nodded his head, "Keep her up, then", and you could feel him pulling the rest of your shirt off.

"Liquid courage", a bottle was dangled right in front of you, and you could just about make out Soap's shaky hands. "I don't need it", you muttered, feeling the way Simon's chest rumbled with a disapproving growl. "Don't fight it, kid", Price called out from behind you, "You know how it's done". He was looking through the medical bag, no doubt making sure that he had everything he needed on hand. You open your mouth, and Soap quickly takes the hint, tilting the bottle upwards.

"Bite this and hold onto Simon's shoulders for me", the captain delivered his words like an order, but you still shook your head. "Jesus women, do you have a death wish or something?", Ghost muttered, hands moving from your legs that were still wrapped around his torso to your hands, pulling one of them over his shoulder and the other, the injured one, across his torso, so Price could work on it easier. But your palms stay pushed away from his skin. So does your chest. He was too close. You couldn't. Simon doesn't like his personal space being occupied by anyone.

"Deep breath for me", was the only last warning John gives you before you feel a pain like no other ripping through your back. And that was all it took. All it too, for your hands to clamp around Simon. Nails were in his skin as you yelled out, trying to pull away from whatever Price was doing. Simon's big palm cupped the back of your head, guiding you down onto his shoulder. "You got this, love", he muttered against your ear. The grip he had on you did not falter, not even for a second. "Almost there, Sug, just a bit more", Price said through gritted teeth. You could feel him digging through your back. The burning icy cold now.

Your body was working on its own accord. Hand reaching for the side of Ghost's face as another wave of pain ripped through you, making you holler out. Simon didn't pull away. And maybe you were high on pain, but you could swear you felt his lips against your palm. Kissing your skin through the material of his mask. Your breathing got shallow. You wanted to pull back to look up at him. Into his eyes. At least one more time. But your body felt heavy. Your fingers gently caressed the side of his face. The smell of him calmed you. You pressed a weak kiss against his neck, feeling a shiver running down his back.

"Keep her talking, Simon,", Price grumbled in frustration. Something probably wasn't going how it was supposed to. But it was okay. You had made your peace with it. "Come on, look at me", Simon pulled your limp head away from his shoulder, tapping your cheek a couple of times. "Keep your eyes open, eh? Or I'll leave my wet towels all over our room for the rest of the month", there was a tinge of something new in his voice. Some kind of light worry. Frustration. You blinked a couple of times, the corners of your lips turning upwards. "You wouldn't dare", you rasped out, your mouth feeling way too dry all of a sudden. "Why is that?", Simon asked straight away, his eyes not leaving yours. You let yourself breathe for a bit; you didn't have enough strength to answer right away. "I'll get you pink sheets and...", a cough made your body seize, and Ghost's grip on you tightened instantly. And there. There it was. A flash of worry caught his eye. "A fuzzy rug", you finished finally. Simon's palm ran over your sweaty forehead. "I'd like to see you try, darling", he breathed out, but there was no amusement in his voice.

"She's too fucking pale, Price", you heard Soap's voice from the side, or at least it sounded like it. "Shut up, Johnny,", the captain grumbled. "Don't close your eyes, Sugar", you felt another nudge from Ghost, making you blink up at him once more. "It's cold", you muttered, feeling your hand slip down his torso, falling limp by your leg. "John", Ghost said in a warning tone. He was trying to make you hold back on him, but your hand slipped away every time.

It was the way your hand limped against Simon's face that sent the last wave of panic through him. Your clammy skin pressed against him. And he was back there, back in the house where his family was killed. No, he couldn't lose you. Not now that he had found you. Not without you knowing that he also cared, just like everyone else. "Y/N", he called out softly. He had never called you by your real name. Never had a chance to see if your eyes would shimmer when he did. "Don't do this", he breathed again your not injured shoulder, "Don't you dare fucking die on me". But he was met with nothing. Only then did he realize that he would have to live with nothing but regret and your blood on his hands. All because he couldn't find a way to let your light shine through his cold demeanor. All because he was afraid of the fact that he had found himself caring again.

[ashdreams2023]

hello! i hope you’re having a nice day! could i request a snape x male professor reader (preferably with long hair (longer than snape’s)) where they both just have a hair day? since he’s made fun of for having greasy hair, the reader decided to change that. i’m thinking of a scene where snape and the reader taking a bath together while he scrubs snape’s scalp😭 and the reader puts all sorts of products on his hair and gently brushes it and even forces him to sleep with a silk bonnet (💀)

all fluff as you can see, no smut please, just two husbands taking care of their hair🫶 thank you!!

Hair care

Severus snape x male reader with long hair

Severus should’ve suspected something when he noticed he hadn’t seen you when he first came back home and you usually spend the period before he’s back reading in the living room but instead he found the room empty and you nowhere in sight in the first floor.

He took his outer layer of robes and unbuttoned his collar before going upstairs where he expected to find you.

His hand ran through his long pin straight locks as he opened the room to the shared bedroom, he blinked at the sight.

You, sitting on the bed crossed legged with your hair warped in a plastic hair cap with a clear hair mask on your long locks.

"Hello stranger" You said.

Severus sighed softly then dragged his feet to bed and laid on the bed face first, his greasy hair spreading on the sheets like a void.

"I see someone is feeling under the weather" you smirked pushing his hair out of his face "What was the muggle say? Oh! A penny for your thoughts?"

Severus stared at you with almost closed eyes then kissed the palm of your hand "Those brats are gonna make me gray very soon"

"Oh stop being dramatic, you’ll survive those little bats, soon they’ll grow and be like y-"

"Don’t finish that sentence" he glared with no bite to his words, he pushed himself off the sheets and sat up crossed legged on the bed after taking his socks off.

You kept a small smile on your face before reaching to the nightstand and taking the bowl that contained the rest of your hair mask "Care for a spa kinda night?"

Severus raised a brow at you but didn’t argue, his hair did feel nasty and washing it might just be what he needed to lighten up.

So here he was sitting on the closed toilet lid with you scrubbing his hair with special shampoo and lots LOTS of conditioner…"I can scrub it myself you know"

"Severus I appreciate the spirit but I don’t trust you to get to the level of perfection I’m aiming for"

"You sound awfully familiar to lucius"

You snorted then grabbed one of your plastic hair brushes "Don’t you dare disrespect my efforts, lucius is all house elves work mine is up close and personal, now here help me rinse off" you sat on the floor with your head directed to the bathtub.

Severus rolled his eyes and began rinsing the hair mask off your locks with the shower head, using his fingers to part your scalp.

The lips of water dropped on your neck from his hair made you giggle "Merlin this is cold"

"No complaining after you scrubbed my lines of thought with your shampoos"

A loud laugh escaped your lips as he smirked and left you drenched on the floor.

Severus closed his eyes after that, enjoying the sound of your voice rambling about how he should take more time to take care of his hair, how it was healthy but the fumes keeps ruining it.

And after a hair mask and a good rinse for severus himself he sat on bed shirtless with you blow drying his hair, the sound was dreadful but at least it dried quickly.

"You could’ve used a spell"

"I like to be hands on"

Severus glanced up at your focused face, handsome as ever, your law slightly clenched and eyes sharp making sure you don’t burn him by accident.

As silly as it may sound but he found it very attractive.

"Almost finished, now you just need to wear this"

"I’m not wearing that"

"Oh yes you are" the look on your face read not giving up that easily.

He doesn’t know how it happened but eventually he fell asleep with your arms around him a nicely placed silk bonnet on his head, ridiculous he felt but no less loved.

Side note: I’m so sorry if it comes off as more gender neutral than male 💀