#this isn't my best likeness of him but it's a good Snarl so I'm well satisfied!

[chiropteracupola]

no, they'll never catch me! no, they cannot catch me now!

[collaboration with @dxppercxdxver again again again]

[phyrestartr]

If We Had Lived (Divine Favour) | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader

W/C: 3k #SFW, fluff, mentions of past abuse, heian sukuna, typical kitsune shapeshifting, jp mythology, morally grey reader, DRABBLE

tags: @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah @memedealer-exe @f0th3rr @boretheral @cicithemess @paastaboi @someone0vx

--

“Sit still.”

“I'm sitting fucking still, fox.”

Sukuna did not sit still. He shifted and huffed, not unlike an annoyed, restless bull locked up in a pen–only, he was far from being in a pen and could leave whenever he so wished. 

Yet, he stayed. He endured the torture you, his prized possession, put him through for the sake of making good impressions or whatever. But the harvest festival was hardly a big deal–the last time the king was bestowed a gift of any value was when he found himself the owner of a beautifully annoying fox that hid in his garden for a fucking eternity. A prize like that was unlikely to be given again. What else could possibly excite the man who had everything?

Your tails swished behind you dramatically as you shifted on your knees, tilting your head to look over the work you'd done with cleaning and manicuring his nails and hands. Thankfully, you left callouses in place. Not that he thought you'd be so cruel as to remove them, but you certainly had the ability to, considering how soft your own hands were. 

“How much more?” Sukuna grumbled.

Your eyes flicked up to his for a moment before returning to your task. “I've hardly finished one hand.” 

The king scowled as a child might as you continued gently pushing at his cuticles with the slim, soft stick of an orange tree, carved specially for this occasion. Sure, he was the one who demanded you to turn your self-preening onto him, but still--

Your soft, warm touch cupped under his jaw and lifted his pouty gaze to meet yours. “You asked this of me,” you reminded. “If you've changed your mind, I've other tasks to attend to.” 

Sukuna’s lip twitched in an ugly, childish snarl. “You'll stay here and finish your job.” 

“Very well.” You leaned up toward him and kissed the spot between his brows before sitting again. But Sukuna followed you, bowing his head to chase a proper kiss that you gave freely, the kind spirit you were. “Then you will have to sit still.” 

“Tch.” But he obliged to the best of his abilities. “Already gonna have to sit still for hours while those damn peasants show up and dump scraps at my feet,” he sighed, pulling up a knee and resting an elbow on it. 

“My, a kingly thing is complaining about fealty?” You wondered, sarcastic yet cripplingly honest. “While I understand your unwillingness to do anything but fight and kill, you must remind those beneath you of your status.” 

Sukuna scoffed. “Yeah? Then why isn't my kyuubi doing just that?” 

“I am no king,” you said. “I am simply the servant of one, no? Given to him as a mere offering, yet kept alive for his amusement.” 

“Huh. Guess you know your place.” Sukuna shifted, and he noticed you pick up the pace, tending to him a bit quicker lest the restless beast lose his patience and leave with the job incomplete. He wouldn’t leave, not when he hungered for your attention and touch more than anything else the pathetic world could offer him–only something from the divine plane could satiate him. 

“Mh.” You raised his hand and pressed his knuckles to your lips, then against the soft plushness of your cheek. “My place is by my king’s side. It will forever remain that way.” 

–

You left his side. You left him, your pious saviour, your sworn king, your chosen mate, in favour of–what? Freedom? Adventure? Men? Women? What was it? 

Thunder echoed in Sukuna’s chest as he paced. He’d swept through towns, destroyed any houses you might have been sequestered in, searched vacant shrines and the like, but never caught a glimpse of your ebony tails nor your decorated kimono. It drove him mad. How had he not noticed? Did the harvest festivities really engulf his mind? Sure, they were more eventful this year, what with clansmen attempting revenge in the name of their fallen brethren, but it’d only been a week of problems–nothing challenging, nothing that really, truly required his full attention. And still–

“Sukuna-sama,” Uraume called, interrupting his buzzing thoughts. 

“What?” The king snapped, turning on his heel to face Uraume standing at his chamber door. “If this is about anything other than my fucking fox, then–”

“Please, come,” they said. “I believe I’ve found an explanation.” 

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. Uraume sounded calm, not that they ever sounded particularly frantic, but they seemed…happy, maybe? Some weird kind of content, perhaps. It wasn’t something Sukuna was used to seeing on their placid face, though it’d become more common ever since you entered their lives and made yourself at home. The frost sorcerer had a soft spot for you. Sukuna couldn’t blame them. 

“Pray tell what the fuck the explanation is,” Sukuna grumbled as he followed his subordinate, arms all crossed and tensed. 

“I’m certain I’ve found the whereabouts of your beloved.” Uraume slid open the door leading to the gardens in the back and walked on. “In the absence of (Name), I decided to tend to the gardens myself. In doing so, I found something quite peculiar–a hidden grove of sorts.” 

Sukuna’s fury morphed into prickling, fiery intrigue. “Bullshit. I’ve been all over this fucking garden with that fox. I know the ins and outs.”

“Then it would not surprise me if he indeed kept this a secret from you.” 

Sukuna grumbled. “He knows better.”

“I don’t believe it’d be intentional,” Uraume said, “but I believe his instincts may have influenced him to secure a quiet, safe place for the future.”

The king relaxed. Electricity sparked weakly in his fingertips first,then throughout the rest of his body when everything started falling into place–you wanted all eyes to be on him, you didn’t want anyone to look at you during the festival. Your cheeks had grown fuller, your body more plush, your desire to snuggle and snooze went through the roof. Could you have been–?

Uraume stepped toward a thicket of trees in the far corner of the garden–one that Sukuna indeed had never bothered with, considering it looked full of trees and foliage and definitely not a spot to meander on your shared morning walks–before ducking under thick branches and pushing aside flimsy bushes. 

Sukuna followed with a little more brute force, nearly ripping the pesky foliage out of the way and half-considering decimating the trees that dare whip him in the face with a cluster of leaves. But you’d probably get pissy if he did that. A pissy fox was fun, but also withheld sex, and that was a no-go for Sukuna these days, considering his concubines just weren’t doing it for him as of late. 

Sure enough, Uraume’s words rang true. The grove was small and cozy, letting in warm dappling sunlight while shielding itself from the prying eyes of the outside world. In the very corner of the garden and the evident centrepiece of the grove, stood an immense weeping willow, one with a formidable trunk and thick, gnarled branches reaching up to drape long curtains of green like cascading waterfalls around itself. Truly, it felt like a separate little world would be hidden in there, behind swaying vines and rustling leaves. 

“You gotta be shitting me,” Sukuna muttered, stepping past his right hand to push aside the foliage, revealing a black fox curled up in the hollowed trunk of that very tree. 

You didn’t stir when he approached. Something uneasy curled in Sukuna’s gut, but once he sat himself in front of the mouth to your little den, he spied the steady breathing shifting your small form, and calmed–until he saw something else wiggling against you, chirping and squeaking with pathetic, fragile voices. At first, he thought it was some sort of parasite sucking you of your lifeforce, but he realized too quickly that what he beheld were two, tiny kits, both covered in fluffy brown-black fur, both keenly aware of the presence of a curious new man sitting before them. 

Sukuna tensed when they approached him. Their chubby bellies knocked their weak, stubby legs off balance, but they persevered best they could, bumbling their way through trampled leaves and grass, and finally reaching the crossed legs of the king. Tiny paws papped at his pant legs before they hazarded climbing the formidable mountain before them And despite Sukuna’s hesitation, he hastily held their butts before they fell off of him like the stupid, dumb babies they were. They were his stupid, dumb babies, after all. Best to take care of them. 

“It appears he went somewhere quiet to nest,” Uraume hummed, sounding far too pleased as they watched the king handle fox kits. “Perhaps the festival was too stressful.”

“Tch. Could’ve shot the runts out inside,” Sukuna mumbled, half-heartedly annoyed. “Coulda said somethin’.” 

“He could have,” Uraume agreed, an air of ‘but what’s done is done’ clinging to their words. 

Sukuna sighed. “What a pain in the ass.” His eyes flicked to you again. He expected you to wake up, to snap at him like the feral thing you were. He expected you to calm after recognizing him. Maybe he expected you to curl up in his lap, too. Or did he just want that?

But you stayed sleeping. Content and safe under the shelter of your lover and the stalwart embrace of a weeping willow. Perhaps it was thanking you for your kind care with the way it soothed your soul and kept you hidden away. Sukuna wouldn't doubt it for a second. The garden acted differently ever since you claimed it as your own. 

“Shall we take them back?” Uraume asked.

The king thought for a long moment, sifting through selfish desires and rational decisions before coming to his conclusion: “Leave ‘em. He'll probably throw a damn fit if we interfere. You know how gods are–annoying and irrational as hell when they don't get their way.”

His subordinate smiled. “Very well.”

–

Winter’s first frost came, and you returned to his side. 

You woke him with a classic move–standing on his chest and staring at him expectantly until he woke up and gave you attention. You didn’t do it as much anymore, not ever since you found yourself in the midst of a thousand responsibilities and daily quests, but every once in a while, like when your lover would return from long journeys, you’d pester him endlessly for pets, scritches and kisses. 

But this time, once his heavy eyes opened, he not only saw you standing atop his chest, but a chubby pup caught in your maw, too. 

Sukuna blinked away his grogginess just as you gingerly placed the babe on his collarbone, tucking him underneath the king's chin. One of his large hands flew up to ensure the kit (his kit) didn't slip off when you let go and trotted away with purpose. 

“Fox,” Sukuna grumbled, displeased with your hasty retreat. Thankfully, you trotted back up to him a handful of moments later and placed a second ball of fluff on his chest before settling down beside him and watching. 

“Tch. Took you long enough,” the king huffed as he tried his damndest to be careful and gentle with the little ones. “Was about to drag your sorry ass in here myself.” 

I see. If you were so desperate for my company, you could have simply requested it, you countered. 

Sukuna sucked his teeth and huffed. “Like it woulda been that easy.” Nothing was that easy with you–and Sukuna liked it. If you gave in, if you tended to his every fleeting want and need, you'd be too boring, frankly. 

It is unlike you to not try. You shifted and wormed your way into his arms and half onto his chest, right beside the two snoozing kits you'd worked hard to bring up while Sukuna was off fighting, killing and maiming. But that was expected; servants and bedded beasts were to stay and make a home, weren't they? 

“Tch. I let you have your way for once and this is how you act?” Your partner admired your foxen features and traced his fingertips along your snout, between your eyes, to the top of your little skull before scritching behind your ears. You leaned into the touch, eyes falling closed with the meagerest offering of affection.

Shall I praise you and bow at your feet once I am able? You teased. 

“Bending over'll do the trick.” Sukuna smirked when you huffed. “How long you gotta stay as a shitty mutt anyway?” 

Until they wean. I'm not certain as to how long that will take.

“Not even a guess?” 

Perhaps another week or so. You turned your nose to the two small fluffs and groomed the tops of their heads. They're becoming more independent. More willing to explore. I take that as a good sign for their development. 

“Huh. Good.” A strange coil relaxed in Sukuna's chest, and he braved petting them with a single finger again. “‘N how long ‘til these two learn to play human?” 

Not for some time, but I will help them until they master it themselves. You nipped at Sukuna's hand as a third rose to come pester you. You should not pray for them to be human too soon. They will terrorize you. I have seen such chaos before. 

Sukuna grinned. “Ho? You forget who their father is?” Your sigh echoed in his mind, and his smile split wider. “I can handle anything.”

–

Kazuya and Genji took too much after you and your mischievous heritage. 

Too often Uraume would find them in baskets of produce, happily munching away like they were supposed to be in there. Other times, they'd be caught stealing shiny jewelry or knick knacks from the king's concubines and servants. They'd sometimes even take Sukuna's clothes and run amok with them, using them as toys or completely shredding them. 

You, he who had birthed and raised them, were swift when it came to correcting them. You were, of course, the prime example of a kitsune, and therefore found their treasure stashes, foretold of their destructive crimes, and knew when they'd be off to steal food. You were like them, once, after all. 

And maybe that's why you had a peculiar pep to your step. Once the boys found their devious personalities, you bothered lifting your tails from the floor. No longer did you let them drag and droop like limp noodles hanging from chopsticks. You seemed…prouder. Livelier. Perhaps being amongst your own gave you a sense of belonging, of hope. 

Belonging, huh? Tch, what a load of shit. Sukuna mused as he rested his cheek against his fist, lounging while he watched you wrangle the twins from his spot under a shady tree. Spring was here, and that meant the runts were now terrorizing the great outdoors. 

More accurately, they were following you around like two tiny shadows, too eager to waddle after you as you moved along the paths, sowing seeds and pruning withered leaves as you went. The tots picked up whatever your tending cast to the ground, and they held each thistle, leaf and twig close in tiny, pudgy hands like they were rabbit's feet. Strange little things.

He lost sight of you and the bumbling babies eventually, but your light chatter flitted through the brush and kept him company for a time. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot accompanied your walk as you came back around, closer and closer and–through the garden itself? Wait–

“RAH!” A little voice cried before a littler body launched onto Sukuna. 

“Ha?” The king quirked a brow and looked at the little thing biting and kicking at his arm like a spastic cat. “What the hell is this?” 

“He's trying to play with you,” you said as you wandered back into view, voice airy and light. “They wrestle.” 

Sukuna held his arm up to get a better look at the runt nibbling on him. “This is supposed to be playing? Damn thing's acting feral.” 

“Because he's young.” You settled down beside your lover, adjusting your robes and such to ensure they cascaded and pooled around you attractively. “One day, he'll ask you to teach him how to fight. How to use cursed techniques.” 

Sukuna's expression almost softened. “Huh. That so?” 

“Mh.” You smoothed Kazuya's hair back as he settled in your lap, choosing peace over violence, unlike Genji. “They are yours. I've no doubt they'll have the same hunger for strife and knowledge.” 

They are yours. The words nearly made Sukuna sick; they weren't his per sè, they were a result of his relentless attempts to tie you down and make you stay with him no matter the cost. They only shared half of his genetics, they didn't rule his every thought nor own half of his heart. That all belonged to you.

But then why did he feel…trepidatious? The way he once felt too long ago when he knew nothing of the world and met too many cruel hands from the moment he opened his eyes. Maybe because these little ones were that age, able to run around and cause problems where they ought to not. Maybe because messing with the wrong person might not end with them slaughtering he who had the audacity to harm them, but with their young lives being lost. 

Ah. That must have been it–the petulance of his own kind pissed Sukuna off to no end. The thought of extensions of himself being looked down on brought about creeping waves of disgust and distaste. Humans were the ones who thought themselves godly enough to kill Sukuna. Humans were the ones who thought themselves mighty enough to enslave and breed a divine beast. The little ones were destined to share humanity's ire, and it pissed him off. It really pissed him off.

“Yeah,” Sukuna decided, shaking his arm to test Genji's ability to cling onto him. “I'll show ‘em a thing or two. Can't have humans beating the shit outta some godlings just for fun.”

“Well, if one were to try, I'd kill them myself,” you cooed like it was the most romantic thing in the world. “Level their village, light the sky ablaze.” 

“Now you're speakin’ my language,” Sukuna said, grinning. 

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Hunter breeding his wife cuz she has been a such a brat these days,she should know he loves only her! No need to be so bratty about it, like what does she mean his love was suffocating? He had to punish her to remind her who she belongs to

TW: Mind control, Dubcon, Noncon, breeding kink

It's March, and the flowers are starting to bloom. Normally, you'd love the weather, but recently you can't enjoy anything due to Hunter. Luckily, Delilah offers some form of relief for you.

"Ae!" Delilah squeals, trying to crawl up to you.

"Good girl!" You coo, opening your arms for your baby.

Delilah stumbles onto her feet and tries to take a couple of steps. All is going well until Hunter opens the door. Then, Delilah falls to her knees.

"I'm home, and I brought food!" Hunter yells, bringing bags of fast food.

"Really, Hunter?! Delilah was about to take her first steps, and you ruined it!" You snap, making Hunter a bit uncomfortable.

"Sorry, darling. I was really excited to see my family," Hunter says, trying to kiss you on the cheek.

"Well, I'd like it if you saw us less often," You reply, moving your cheek away.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm saying your love is a suffocating force that strangles the life and joy out of everyone around you."

"You don't mean that. My love helped create our babies."

"More like your kinks and persistence did. If anything, I should be worried that they're related to you."

"There's no reason to act so bratty. If you're upset, take it out on me. Don't take it out on the children."

"I'm going to bed. Lauren, time for dinner!"

You put Delilah into her high chair and walk to your bedroom. You sit on the bed and look at a photo of you from the beginning of senior year. You were happy, and best of all, you didn't know him.

"Mamamama!" Lauren coos, walking into your room.

Delilah crawls in, following behind her sister. They climb onto the bed and snuggle next to you.

"Aww! Are my babies all full?" You ask, kissing their cheek.

Lauren nods her head and hugs your chest.

"Daddy even fed us desert!" Lauren squeals, becoming bouncy and hyper.

Hunter walks into the room, and you shoot him a glare.

"Alright, you two. Mommy is tired and needs her rest," Hunter says, making Delilah and Lauren climb down.

The two babies go into their playroom.

"Really? Desert? Right before bedtime? They'll be hyper till the next morning," You scold, hitting Hunter with a pillow.

"Is it so wrong to treat my babies right? Besides, at least I ate dinner with them," Hunter comments, making you snap.

"At least I don't uproot their lives and force them to be with me all the time. At least I let them have their choice of friends. At least they know I give them unconditional love," You snarl, breaking Hunter's last straw.

Hunter pins you to the bed and kisses you.

"You need to be punished. I'm not letting our children get raised by a brat," Hunter says, flipping you over.

Your stomach is on the bed, and you know what's going to happen.

"Oh please, a couple of spankings aren't going to hurt me. I'm used to your hands by now," You comment, laughing at your husband.

"Which is why I bought this paddle. I was going to save this for the weekend during our getaway, but I see you need it now," Hunter says, making your eyes widen.

"You-ah!"

Hunter slaps your ass with the paddle. He takes off your pants and underwear, and you're only left with your shirt on.

"Keep talking, and you'll end up with one hundred hits to the ass. If your pussy starts to get wet, I will command you when to cum. If you squirt, you'll get one hundred more hits."

Hunter keeps paddling your ass, and eventually, he notices your pussy is dripping wet.

"How pitiful. You only made it to fifty before getting wet. In that case, you'll need to cum every time the paddle touches your ass," Hunter says, shocking you.

"Hunter, that isn't even possible!" You exclaim, trying to move your hands from the cuffs he put them in.

"Of course, it is. You see, Heath and Henry are having relationship problems with their wives, too. So, Henry used his tech company to create a collar we call the Commando. Once that pretty thing is around your neck, you can't help but do anything I say," Hunter explains, bringing the black and pink collar around your neck.

"Hunter, stop it! Hunter-ooh...why does it feel so good?" You moan, feeling everything in you go hot.

"There are temporary nanobots in the heart. Right now, those bots are in your bloodstream, traveling to your brain and taking it over so you can be perfect. Don't worry. Once the caller is off, you'll be free."

"Hunter, you've just hit a new low."

Your head feels dizzy, and suddenly you black out. When you awaken, you feel the need to follow Hunter's orders.

"What should I do for my husband?" You ask, smiling gleefully.

"Cum every time I hit you with this paddle," Hunter replies, making your pussy get wetter than before.

Hunter hits you with a paddle, and you cum instantaneously. He laughs and hits you fifty more times. You cum so much that it's leaking onto the bed sheets.

"What else should I do for my wonderful husband?" You ask, turning to face Hunter.

"Tell me, are you highly fertile right now? I know you check your menstrual chart every day," Hunter commands, grabbing your phone from your nightstand.

"Of course, honey!" You chirp, pulling up your period tracker and pulling up today's date. "I'm very fertile today. Are you going to make me a mommy of three?"

"God, I love the way you talk with this collar."

Hunter takes his pants off and puts his dick inside you.

"Oh, master!" You moan, holding your legs open for him. "And to think naughty me was going to get birth control and an IUD."

"If that's what you thought you were going to do, then I'm going to make sure the only thing that always belongs in this pussy is my cock."

Hunter speeds up his thrusts, and he cums in you. You moan with satisfaction and beg for him to breed you again.

"If my loyal wife commands it," Hunter says, thrusting in you again.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" You squeal, groping your boobs. "Make my boobies full of even more milk!"

Hunter climaxes and sends a wave of cum into you.

"Cuddle, Y/N."

"Yes, hubby."

The two of you cuddle while Hunter is still inside you. When you wake up, your pelvis is hurting like no tomorrow.

"Hunter, what did you do?" You groan, holding your stomach.

"I bred the brat out of you," Hunter answers, bringing breakfast and painkillers. "Don't worry. You'll be okay, and you'll deliver another child for our babies to play with."

You cry, and he soothes you.

"I'll provide the best maternal services for you like I've always done. As much as I want you to be carrying my babies, you can't do that if you're stressed."

"What would you know about stress, you demonic, horny bitch."

"I can tell being a mother is stressing you out so after this baby, I'll be wearing a condom. You're also getting that nexaplon implant I took out back in college. We both need a break."

"Thank you, Hunter."

For once, things were going your way. At least you'll have another nine months without a period.

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: Out on the hunt, out of state and out of options; with your life on the line, Dean makes a call you're not happy with. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he brings a peace offering.

Haven't read Part One? - Catch up here.

Words: ~3.5k

A/N: This is part 2 of 3 of what started as a short one shot, but someone asked for another slice of pie so I'm here to deliver. There isn't any smut in this part (its all going to be in part 3 😂) but there are graphic depictions of gore, violence and death which is why I ask minors not to read or interact. Reader is female but generic, and obviously has feelings but is kind of stuck in this hate to love him type thing which carries on from part 1. I hope you enjoy the read and are ready for the goonfest and gratuitous smut coming in part 3.

Warnings: gore, death and gruesome depictions of canon-type violence, profanity as standard for my work, bit of angst, bit of fluff right at the end.

***Minor do not read or interact***

Dean Winchester.  You hate him.  His saviour complex, his unwavering strength, the way he’s so damn selfish though not in the ways that count… But boy, can he wear a pair of jeans.  Phew-ee!

You hate that you can’t stop looking at him, leaning on the jukebox of the bar you’re in, feeding it quarters in exchange for some feel-good tunes.  Ugh!  Asshole!

Tonight had been a tough night.  Even Sam was feeling the burn.  Out on the hunt, out of state and out of options, the three of you had played a Hail Mary and it had paid off.  Those damn vamps had just kept on coming.  Sam was down and you were in a bad way with what felt like a hoard of those fuckers piling into the abandoned factory to make a meal out of you all.  Starting out, you had all been so sure that you had this little group in the bag but, as per usual with these goddamn things, the plan didn’t pan out.

Dean had dragged you and a semi-conscious Sam into a tight space between the machines.  One way in, one way out.  You were both toast if you were found and of course you would be found; the vamps had your scent.

Groggily, you watched dean uncoil something from his pocket and string it across the opening at about neck height.

“Guitar string.”  He winked at you as if this idea was the best idea he had ever had and should have been plan A from the start.

“We’re fucking bait?”  You hissed furiously.  No, surely not?  Dean would never use his brother as bait.  Would he?  “Goddamn asshole!”  You snarled with as much vitriol you could muster between your gasping breaths and painful ribs.

He just gave you that weary look he had been wearing for the past hour and shrugged his shoulders before pulling out his machete and hiding himself out of sight.  “Get ready.”

You brandished your blade and hauled yourself to your feet, ready to fight.  There was no point wasting any more breath insulting him.  If you got out of this alive, you would have plenty of opportunity to call him all the names under the sun.  IF you got out alive.

The first vamps that found you came rushing in, right down the tight alley framed by the large machinery and with a sharp twang, Dean’s trap garrotted them straight through, taking their heads clean off.  Of the next three, the wire took the first two but the third approached cautiously despite you calling him to come get you.

Dean ran out from his hiding place and attacked the vamp from behind, slashing at the guy’s thick neck twice in order to cut all the way through.  As the body fell you saw why the vamp had stopped – the trap had remnants of flesh and blood along it from its previous victims making it easier to see.  You wiped your sleeve along it to clean the bits of hanging flesh off making it almost invisible again. Dean gave you an impressed nod.

Another two vamps fell to the wire but the last one got snagged as she fell, snapping it and making it useless.  Well, it was a good idea while it lasted, you thought.

It took you two a little while longer to attract the remaining few vamps who obviously knew something was up.  Sam was in no fit state, still groaning on the ground.  You were weak and in a lot of pain but you kept swinging your blade, struggling to breathe let alone stand.

The fight had been brutal and both you and Dean were covered in blood by the time it was over.  You were on your knees, slumped over a vamp you had had to hack into to remove the head, your blade surely blunt by now.  You were ready to close your eyes and give up when Dean pulled you to your feet.

“C’mon,” he said gruffly, “up and at’em.”  Helping you out over the pile of decapitated bodies, he hauled a now mostly conscious Sam through the mess.

You had made it to the Impala and, for once, Dean hadn’t grumbled about getting blood on Baby’s seats but throwing a couple blankets down instead.  Sam slumped in the front while you crawled in the back, weary and sore.  Your eyes met Dean’s in the rearview mirror but yours flicked away immediately, unable to look at him without getting angry.  When you looked back so did he, like he knew you’d be looking, and held on, asking if you were okay without actually asking.  If he really cared he wouldn’t have used you as bait.

You let your head fall back onto the seat and closed your eyes frustrated by his dichotomy.

After a while on the road, Dean turned the radio on, breaking the silence which opened the door for you to say what was on your mind.  Sam hadn’t been bothered one bit by the fact that Dean had used you both as bait, but you were furious.

“It worked, didn’t it?”  Dean snapped, frustrated by your anger.

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and a whole long list of other people.  Aint nothin’ new.”

Around five miles out of Crocker, Missouri, Dean pulled into a truck stop complex which had a convenience store, gas station, diner, a small motel and a dive bar.  The dawn was still hours away and the need for a couple of hours sleep in a comfortable bed was showing on all three of you.  Sam was the cleanest so he made the arrangements; two rooms because there was no way you were sharing a room with that asshole after what he did.  You were just as likely to fuck him out of anger as fight him at that point.

You used the showers in the truck stop to clean off all the blood and get into some clean clothes, relishing in the feel of the warm water and decent water pressure.  You felt a slight pang of guilt that someone would likely be picking vamp chunks out of the drain in the next couple of days but it passed quickly, it probably wasn’t the worst thing these truck stop attendants had seen over the years.

Refreshed by the shower and a take-out burger from the diner, you decided you needed a drink or five, which sounded good to Sam and Dean – you all deserved it.

So, here you are, several drinks in, pounding another tequila shot, trying not to stare at Dean Winchester’s ass while Sam bids you goodnight and takes himself off to one of the two rooms you had paid for at the run-down motel on site.

It seems as if you’re not the only one with an eye for a firm ass in tight Wranglers; a scantily clad barfly sidles up to Dean and strokes her hand down his back as he plugs his final song into the jukebox.  When her hand reaches that ass of his, he straightens and turns, grinning at her with that look you know means he’s going to ride her all the way to dawn.

You can’t watch this.  You don’t have the stomach for it, not tonight.  You pound your remaining two shots and eat the lime slice, peel and all.  Then you’re up off your stool and pushing past Dean and his lady friend, and out into the night where the air cools your heated skin but not your confusing emotions.

In the second of the two rooms, you look at your bruised face and neck in the mirror.  No wonder he didn’t look twice at you, you’re a mess.  It shouldn’t pain you like it does to think of him with another woman.  He asked once and you said no, so that is the end of that.  Plus, you hate him, can’t forget that.  Still, it gives you some small satisfaction that he now has no empty room to take his new friend to so he’ll have to bang her in Baby, on the bloody blankets.  With a spiteful smirk you flop on the bed and fall into a light disturbed sleep.

A loud knock on the door wakes you up with a start.  At first you don’t know where you are.  So used to your room in the bunker, you had almost forgotten what it feels like to sleep that first night in a new place, never truly resting for fear of attack.  It’s only an hour or so since you left the bar and you’re groggy from the tequila and from the waking.

You don’t turn on the lights when you go to the peephole, looking out with your pistol muzzle pushed up against the flimsy wood door.  Dean sways on the other side, his head turned as though he’s listening.

“Sam’s in the other room,” you call, clicking the safety back onto your pistol.

“I know,” he grumbles, “open up.  I got something.”

“It can wait until the morning.”

“Can’t wait,” it sounds muffled, “owwww!” he hisses.

“What the hell,” you sigh, sliding the chain and turning the handle.

Dean stumbles in with his mouth shaped like an “O” as he slides two bowls onto the unit next to the TV, shaking his hands afterwards as if burned.  You close the door and engage the chain out of habit.

“Got you something.”  He grins goofily, obviously much more drunk than you had left him in the bar, and you wonder what happened to the barfly.  Surely the womanizing Dean Winchester hadn’t banged and dropped her in that short a time?

“It’s two in the morning, Dean.”  You wipe a hand down your tired face, lifting your eyes again to see him handing you one of the bowls from the diner.

“Peace offering.”  He says with a smile as he pushes the hot ceramic into your hands, his eyes glistening with mirth and the effects of all the whiskey he shot back earlier.

You look at what he brought you and your heart almost stops.  It’s a steaming hot piece of cherry pie, drizzled in a large puddle of vanilla custard just the way you like it.  You look at his, with his tiny dollop of cream just the way he likes it, and you can’t help but smile.

“Why?”  You ask as you sit on the edge of the bed with him in the chair by the TV, the bowl in your hand, spoon loaded with goodness.

He finishes chewing a piece of the hot pie, sucking in air to cool it in his mouth before he replies.  “I know you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you admit too quickly but the words are out now whether he believes them or not.

“And I know it’s my fault,” he looks at you with those eyes, “I shouldn’t have made things awkward from day one.  So, I’m sorry about that.”

“Thank you.”  You never thought you would ever hear Dean Winchester apologise, or what you would say in return.

“I didn’t know how to take the rejection,” he sighed heavily, “especially not from someone I have this amazing chemistry with, y’know?  But that’s on me.”

What great chemistry did Dean think he had with you?  All the years you had known him, you’d harboured a bit of a crush on him but he always acted like you were one of the guys.  When you two crossed paths it had felt effortless to slip into the old camaraderie but he treated you like a sister, a fellow hunter, until you had shown up on his radar this time covered in blood and all kinds of messed up and he’d gotten all pissed and… ohhhh.

“You were right all those years ago when you said hunters shouldn’t get close,” he continues, “I should’ve listened and never asked that question.”

You remember the conversation clearly.  It was something you had said because you thought it was what he wanted to hear from you.  Younger and more naïve, you had thought that what he wanted was for you to be like one of the guys so you had said the words and hoped that you could remain where you were with him, always close but never at risk of blowing everything.  Over time you had begun to regret that decision, and as soon as he started acting like an asshole it had been easy to trade the feelings you had for ones of resentment.

“I wish I never said it.  I didn’t realise what I would be losing when I asked.”   He looks at you again, beseechingly.  “Do you think we can start again?  Be friends like before?”

You think about it for a moment but the more you think the surer you are that you can’t go back.  You can’t know these things and have these experiences and go back to the beginning.

“No, Dean, I don’t think we can.”  Your words are soft but the devastation in his eyes is sharp and painful.

You stand, placing your untouched bowl on the bedside table, and walk towards him.  His bowl is empty now, but there’s a little piece of pie left on his spoon when you take it from him.  He’s confused but follows your every movement with a mixture of sadness and reverence.

The pie is sweet on your tongue and the way his eyebrows raise when your lips close around the spoon brings a cheeky glint to your eyes.  You sit on his knee, wrapping one arm around his shoulders while the other pulls the now clean spoon past your lips.  You swallow with a sigh.  His hands go to your hip and thigh to steady you as he looks up at you.

You dip your head slowly and he tilts up to meet you, his eyes flicking between yours and your mouth.  He tastes sweet just like you do when you lay your lips on his, a soft kiss that is both the testing of waters and the soothing of sharp emotions.  He squeezes your thigh tighter for a brief moment and you pull back to see the questioning look on his face.

“But you said…”

You shush him with a finger laid over his lips.  “I know what I said.”

“Then what did you mean?”  He swallows hard, licking his lips nervously afterwards as if you’re about to pull the rug out from under him.

“I wish I’d said yes.”

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hello 👋👋👋

thoughts on Blaise Zabini? there is some scenes in HBP when he's cold pureblood who is looking with hate on Harry

in fics he's usually portraits like pretences boy, no biggot, but in canon he's like it actually

wanna read your opinion ;)

Okay, I actually really like Blaise Zabini and find excuses to write him into my fic. Like I think he's a bitchy bigoted asshole but I love him anyways.

I love the conversation we have with him, Pansy, and Draco at the beginning of HBP, since it's our best look at how the Slytherins interact with each other. I used it a lot in my Theo Nott meta because it's a really good piece of character work that I really like. Like, it shows how none of them are really friends and I'm here for it. I love their scathing friendship where they would all sell each other for one corn chip.

With all that, let's talk about Blaise:

He's good-looking. His mother is mentioned as being incredibly beautiful and clearly her son got it from her:

He recognized a Slytherin from their year, a tall black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes;

(HBP, 143)

He can be cold and aloof. Like, Blaise is often described as looking bored or indifferent, and it's not common that he shows much of an emotional reaction:

Crabbe and Goyle were gawping at Malfoy; apparently they had had no inkling of any plans to move on to bigger and better things. Even Zabini had allowed a look of curiosity to mar his haughty features.

(HBP, 151)

(Haughty is a word often used for attractive characters in HP, to my above point)

Now, Blaise is intelligent. Like, he seems very aware of people and what bothers them most (which he uses to be an ass). He's not quite a bully like Malfoy, but he likes knowing what's going on with everyone. In the other quotes I bring up I'll mention that as bored as he looks, he's clearly interested in the gossip. He loves having information others want. He likes having that power over Draco, particularly since they seem to have a kind of ego war going on on the down low. (in my opinion, Zabini wins since he's the one who actually manages to look cool and collected).

We also know he's in NEWT potions, so, he likely had an O in Potions adding to the point about him being intelligent.

As I mentioned, he is kind of an ass:

Zabini did not make any sign of recognition or greeting, nor did Harry or Neville: Gryffindor and Slytherin students loathed each other on principle.

(HBP, 143)

“Of course,” said Slughorn, watching Harry closely, “there have been rumors for years. . . . I remember when — well — after that terrible night — Lily — James — and you survived — and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary —” Zabini gave a tiny little cough that was clearly supposed to indicate amused skepticism.

(HBP, 146)

As he pushed past Harry into the darkening corridor, Zabini shot him a filthy look that Harry returned with interest. He, Ginny, and Neville followed Zabini back along the train.

(HBP, 147)

But he's an ass in a very different way from Draco. Draco is in your face with mean comments and making fun of things in an obvious very verbose way, Blaise is an asshole in an aloof kind of way. Like, he thinks himself too good to go out of his way to bully people, and he doesn't need to actively do anything. He's all scathing looks and raised brows and subtle acts of minimizing and belittling people.

He isn't actually close to the other Slytherins and treats them not that differently from how he treats Harry.

It was fortunate that Goyle and Zabini were snarling at each other, [...] “So, Zabini,” said Malfoy, “what did Slughorn want?” “Just trying to make up to well-connected people,” said Zabini, who was still glowering at Goyle. “Not that he managed to find many.”

(HBP, 149)

Blaise doesn't have respect for Draco, Crabbe, or Goyle, and he doesn't need to say it, he shows it. He snarls at Goyle like he would at Harry (who he disrespects and thinks less of). He says there aren't many well-connected people, clearly meaning everyone in the compartment besides himself. He's a dick.

Like I mentioned in the post about Theo, the Slytherins aren't actually friends. Draco uses Blaise's last name, not the first one. They aren't close and they're both aware of it. @indigo-scarf wrote a great post about how Draco and Blaise aren't actually friends, but it isn't unique to them. Crabbe and Goyle turn on Malfoy instantly in book 7 when they think him weak. Even in OotP, they do nothing to help Draco when Harry and George attack him. And Draco clearly doesn't actually trust any of them as in HBP, his main confidante, and friend is Moaning Myrtle. All these Slytherins hang out together because it serves them, not because they like each other.

Similarly, Theo clearly hangs out with Draco in books 5 & 6 only when he has no choice. Pansy is dating Draco, but is making eyes at Blaise like Draco is her second choice. But Blaise doesn't seem interested in Pansy in any way and thinks she is lesser than him as well. Blaise and Theo clearly aren't friendly either as they never hang out and Blaise calls him by his surname, etc. Basically, none of them actually like each other, though I assume some of them do respect each other (to different levels throughout the books. Though I headcanon Blaise and Theo have some grudging silent respect for each other as they consider each other intelligent and on the same level, while they both look down on most of the rest of their year including Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle).

Malfoy sat up very suddenly, knocking Pansy’s hand aside. “He invited Longbottom?” “Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there,” said Zabini indifferently. “What’s Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?” Zabini shrugged.

(HBP, 150)

Here again, Blaise is ridiculing Draco subtly. Basically saying "well, duh, don't be an idiot," without outright saying that but making Draco feel it all the same.

He's also showing how he ravels in getting an invite when Draco didn't. Blaise likes having the cards and power in a situation.

“I wouldn’t bank on an invitation,” said Zabini. “He asked me about Nott’s father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry he didn’t look happy, and Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters.” Malfoy looked angry, but forced out a singularly humorless laugh.

(HBP, 151)

And Blaise knows how to get to Draco who is clearly upset. Draco wishes his snide comments were on Blaise's level. I just really enjoy how Blaise shows his disdain for people. And how he thinks of himself as better.

“And you think you’ll be able to do something for him?” asked Zabini scathingly. “Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?”

(HBP, 152)

Again, in the above quote, he belittles Draco and shows his doubts about him and how much Voldemort actually wants him in his service. And he's 100% right that Voldemort is expecting Draco to fail, something even Draco didn't quite realize yet.

All this isn't friendship. It's acquaintances who dislike each other but need each other is what it is. I know that when I'm writing them, that's what I go for. They were raised to see other people as connections or tools, not as friends. So real friendship is rare with these sorts of purebloods, it exists, but it's rare. Like, some of them probably like each other and enjoy each other's company, but I imagine they wouldn't like, actually trust each other.

Ginny calls him a poser and she is somewhat correct. I think Blaise does believe in everything he says he does, but he isn't as cold and bored as he appears. I think he likes knowing gossip and information others don't even if he appears nonchalant about it. That is definitely a pretense, but the bigotry isn't.

I know many fics paint Blaise as someone who isn't actually a bigot (because he's black) but he is. I think he is one of the characters who's honestly an unapologetic blood purist:

“A lot of boys like her,” said Pansy, watching Malfoy out of the corner of her eyes for his reaction. “Even you think she’s goodlooking, don’t you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!” “I wouldn’t touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like,” said Zabini coldly, and Pansy looked pleased.

(HBP, 150)

He sounds exactly like Bellatrix "Blood Traitor is right next to Mudblood in my book" Lestrange.

Obviously, he says what he is supposed to and what he's been taught all his life, but I think these are his honest views from what he knows. Like, in the Wizarding World skin color clearly doesn't matter much, but blood, oh, they care about blood.

This is somewhat interesting considering the Zabinis aren't among the Sacred 28, whether it's because they immigrated to the UK after Cantankerus Nott wrote the pure blood dictionary or they really are not pure-blooded enough, is unclear. I headcanon it's the former and that the family moved to Britain more recently, after the dictionary was written in the 1930s. And, it kinda makes sense. Like, if the Zabinis were in the continent and backed up Grindlewald, and then after he fell they needed a new start someplace that didn't have as strong feelings about Grindlewald and them, so they moved to the UK. Grindelwald never reached the UK and therefore, they could live there without that stain attached to their name. That's like, my headcanon about the Zabini family.

Despite all his Slytherin tendencies and intelligence, Blaise is quite arrogant. I mentioned he's prideful and thinks himself better than Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle for example, but he thinks himself so above others that he's untouchable. You see it in how loos-lipped he is regarding his mother's crimes:

Zabini, who was interrogated after McLaggen, turned out to have a famously beautiful witch for a mother (from what Harry could make out, she had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold).

(HBP, 145)

Like, how do you accidentally let that slip in casual conversation?

It's clear he thinks he and his mother are above the law and that no one could do anything to them. He believes in this so much that he doesn't care outright mentioning she maybe murdered her husbands in a room filled with people who don't like him. He feels that secure in none of them doing anything or being able to do anything. (I bet his mom bribed a ton of people).

In my headcanon, Blaise and his mother are pretty close and are each other's only confidantes. Like, they sit together to gossip and judge people. She asks him whether he thinks this next husband is good enough or rich enough. I headcanon she's also cold, bitchy, and arrogant and Blaise models his persona after her (and perhaps her brother or father, but only relatives on her side).

I also imagine he knows his mother killed his father and that she sat him down and explained why so he does back her on that decision. He has his doubts deep down about his mother's ways, but he isn't ready to examine them, or planning on doing so any time soon.

So, yeah, I think Blais is an asshole pureblood bigot who doesn't really have friends and is so incredibly arrogant. But he isn't a bully, he shows his disdain through cold looks and indifference. He also has the potential for interesting character dynamics with his mom and I like him a lot.

[oneforthemunny]

don't fear the reaper |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 7

prompt: your introduction to eddie's ex-wife goes less than ideal.

age gap. reader is 26, Eddie is 42. everything is consensual. if you don't like it, don't read plz.

contains: language, dilf!eddie, older!eddie, age gap, angst, gina is Eddie's ex wife and she's really mean :(

"Can you get that, sweet thing?" Eddie asks, screwdriver in hand, hunched over the little set of drawers that he was assembling, tongue poked out in concentration.

You'd been happily watching him build all morning, a warm and light feeling buzzing through your body. You grinned cheekily to yourself when Eddie slipped on a pair of reading glasses before he had started. He looked over them at you, peering over the black frames with an exaggerated stare, pointing a warning finger playfully in your direction.

"Not a word. Understand, missy?" His tone was stern, playful, pulling a string of giggles from your chest. Your cheeks flush at his tone, tipping your head to the side to admire him. The way the veins in his hand protruded when he tightened something with the screwdriver, his tongue poking out in concentration. 

Eddie had just established the base of the drawers when there was a knock at the door. You stood, setting down your mug on the coffee table. "Should be Brielle. She's always forgettin' her key." Eddie sighed, a firm eye roll.

You opened the door, ready to see the girl who resembled your boyfriend so much- same eyes, dimples, cheeks. She'd been at her mom's all weekend, and you were happy to have her back, now that things were better with you two. You smiled widely, eyes lighting up, a welcome on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you were greeted with a pair of piercing eyes, narrowed at you from the moment you opened the door, unfamiliar and challenging.

You blinked, looking at the woman in front of you, jarred and a little frightened. You knew her, how could you not? Gina, Eddie's ex-wife, Brielle's mother. You’d seen the photos- maybe, done a stalk on Facebook with your best friend. 

Gina's lips twisted, a scoff falling from them that had you stepping back in the doorway. "I'll be goddammed." She said every word slowly, dripped in venom. Your heart hammered, eyes wide, caught, scared.

Brielle squirmed, eyes sympathetically meeting yours. She was uncomfortable, intimidated too, though you weren’t really sure why. "Mom, I'm here now. You can go back in the car-"

"Nuh-uh." Gina snapped, eyes never leaving yours. You felt exposed under her gaze, vulnerable, wrapping your arms around your middle protectively. "I wanna meet the new girl your dad has you hangin' around. Make sure she's not being a bad influence on my baby." Her words were nearly mocking, your hand gripping the door in a white knuckled grasp.

Eddie's heavy footsteps appeared behind you, shoulders falling when he saw Gina. "For fuckssake, Gina..." He sighed, annoyed, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, hello to you, too, Edward." Gina spat the name like it was a bad taste in her mouth, lips curling into a snarl. Her teeth barred, like a predator to prey- amused. This was a game to her. One she was very good at, apparently. 

"The fuck are you doin', huh?" Eddie threw his arm out, looking down at Gina, standing at his full height. "You don't have better things to do?"

Gina laughed, humorless, eyes rolling. "Not when it comes to our child." Gina snapped. She paused, lips pursing, icy eyes sliding over your frame, sending shivers down your spine. "Sorry, I guess I should say our daughter, looks like you have another child in your life."

Your heart dropped, stammering lightly. Gina gave you a smug, challenging look. Brielle looked down, shifting on her feet. "Mom, can you stop? It's embarrassing-"

"Oh, I'm embarrassing?" Gina snapped, looking at her daughter. Brielle recoiled slightly, shrinking under her gaze. "But your father prancing around with jail bait isn't-"

"Alright, Gina, that's enough." Eddie growled, stepping in front of you. They glared at each other, so angry, full of hatred. "You wanna say some shit to me? Fine, but leave her out of this. And have some decency to not do this in front of Brie." He bit, glaring down the slope of his nose at her. 

Gina gasped, loud and accusatory. "Don't you dare, Eddie, don't you even fuckin' dare." She pointed a long, manicured nail at him, jabbing it at him. "Don't pull the bad mom card on me when you're dating someone the same age as Brielle!"

"She is not the same age, Gina, what the fuck-"

"Sweetheart," Gina turned to you, the pet name Eddie usually adorned to you was covered in malice, making your blood run cold. "How old are you?" She mocked you, spoke to you like you were a child- like you spoke to your kids at school. 

"Twenty-s-six." You stammered dumbly, heart pounding in your ears. It was nine in the morning, you weren't exactly prepared to be berated and harassed like this, this early.

Gina's lips pressed together, eyebrows shooting up. She scoffed, loud and derisive. "Twenty-six?" She repeated, each syllable rolling off her tongue furiously, looking at Eddie with a glare so cold it made you shiver.

 "So, when I had Brielle, you were what? Nine, ten?" She laughed, but she wasn't amused. It was a mean girl mocking laugh, one that took you back to days in middle school in the locker room at gym. "And Eddie, what were you doing then? Twenty-six years ago? Oh, that's right, you were still selling weed to high-school kids to support the baby-"

"Gina, I'm not doing this shit with you." Eddie seethed, jaw set and eyes hard. He glared at her, eyes flicking over to Brielle, who shrunk into herself, eyes on the steps. You could see the guilt wash over Eddie, jaw ticking and eyes softening. "Get in here, baby girl. I'll be just a second." He guided Brielle in, hand protectively on the back of her head, giving you a small nod before shutting the door.

You and Brielle stood in the doorway, not moving, eyes glued on the wooden door. Your heart was hammering in your throat, stopping and speeding when you would hear the muffled words and screams from the other side. A rollercoaster of emotions, tummy dropping and turning, twisting and seeking further and further into your nerves. 

"She's a fuckin' child, Ed!"

"Gina, are you out of your fuckin' mind? She's an adult, a teacher. A really great teacher-"

"Probably because she's the same age as them! They have so much in common!"

"Oh, fuck off, Gina. Aren't you married? Why the fuck do you care?"

"I don't want someone like that around my daughter! What kind of example is this? Whoring herself with some old guy!"

"She is not-"

"-How would you feel if Brie was doing this, huh? Fucking around with a guy twice her age?"

Your stomach dropped when Eddie didn't reply. You felt the color drain, feeling sick to your stomach. Brielle looked at you carefully, fingers twisting around her overnight bag, wringing them nervously.

"That's what I thought." Gina's voice was firm, smug. "I don't know what you're going through, Eddie, but this is a lot. Even for you."

"Get the fuck outta my house, Gina." Eddie growled, heavy footsteps moving towards the door. You could hear her muffled, biting response, mean and biting even through the door.

You stepped back just as Eddie threw the door open, eyes furious and blazing. He ran a hand over his scruff, free hand balled by his side. He looked at you, eyes drooping gently- tired, defeated.

"'M gonna go outside." Eddie growled, stomping towards the back door. "Need a minute." His hand ran over Brie’s shoulder, comfortingly- an apology. 

You flinched when Eddie slammed the door, shaking the house. Brielle looked at you, eyes wide and cautious, embarrassed. "They... They do this all the time." She offered softly. You didn't reply, eyes still glued on the back door.

"I'm sorry..." Brielle said softly. You looked over at her. "For what my mom said." She added, rubbing her arms awkwardly. "She can be like that sometimes. Don't take it personally."

You nodded, tongue feeling thick and constricted in your mouth.

Brielle hesitated, looking from you back to the window where a stream of smoke could be seen. Eddie. She lifted her bag gently, moving down the hall to her room. You didn't move, you couldn't.

Gina's words hurt you. It made your head rattle with insecurities and racing thoughts, self doubt and humbled truths. Eddie's reaction- or lack thereof- to her final accusation had your stomach twisting, knotting. Why did it hurt you so bad? Was Eddie embarrassed of you?

Eddie came in from the backdoor, shoulders still tense but eyes softened, nicotine induced relaxation. "I'm sorry about that, bunny. She can be a real-" Eddie stopped, looking at you in the doorway.

You didn't move, stilling even at his voice, zoned on the wall in front of you. Eddie called your name softly, hands raised in a slow approach, like you were a frightened animal that might scatter. His brows furrowed, lips pulling into a soft frown. 

Your eyes met his, lip trembling gently. Eddie's face softened. "Baby, what's wrong?" He cooed, stepping towards you so he could rub his hands down your arms. "Don't let her upset you, ok? She just said all of that because wants you to be upset-"

"You didn't answer her." Your eyes flashed at him. His forehead creased in confusion. "When she said that about Brie, you didn't reply."

Eddie exhaled, tired, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, because I'm not arguing with her. It's pointless." He huffed. "All it does is make my blood pressure go up, and she just starts saying crazy shit. She thrives off that kinda attention, and it just gets worse when you give it to her. Trust me, baby." He muttered, eyes pinching shut at the thought. This was routine, a painful routine he was far too used to. 

You huffed, crossing your arms, stepping out of his grasp, anger bristling in your chest. "You answered her every other time, Ed." You bit, jaw clenching to keep your tears from falling.

Eddie threw his hands up. "What do you want me to say here? I wasn't gettin' into that with her-"

"Because you think she's right." You challenged him, brows raised in suspicion. "You think there's something wrong with this? With us?"

"No, fuck," Eddie growled, vein in his neck protruding, angry and prominent against his flushed skin. "I don't think there's anything wrong with us, ok? I wouldn't be doin' this if I did-"

"Then why didn't you say anything?" You shrieked, throwing your hands out. "You made it look like you thought that!" Your heart hammered in your chest, defensive and angry. 

Eddie's eyes bulged, head jutting forward. "Why? I wasn't lettin' her use my daughter against me like that ok? It's fucked up, and she knows what she's doin'! She knows it'll piss me off, and I'll fight with her the way she wants, and I'm not doin' that!" He boomed, voice bouncing off the walls, echoing into your ears.

Your eyes cut down the hall towards Brielle's room. Eddie huffed, shaking his head. You stood in silence, Eddie shaking his head, exhaling a short huff of air.

"I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry I didn't say anything to her, I just-" Eddie stopped himself. "I was done. Done letting her say shit to you, to me, and she always drags Brie into the middle of it to try and make me feel bad or-or fight with her more."

You looked down at your feet. "I'm sorry." You muttered.

Eddie shook his head. "You don't have nothin' to be sorry for-"

"No, I'm sorry." You said sincerely, eyes lifting to him. "I'm sorry she does that to you. 'S not right."

Eddie's face softened, lines smoothing when you grabbed his hand, holding it gently, pressing kisses into his palm. "I don't think there's anything wrong with us. I was just scared...you did."

Eddie gave a lopsided smile, pulling you into him by your waist. "Nuh-uh," Eddie smirked, lips moving to your cheek, soft feathery kisses pressing against your skin.

"Just like a pretty little thing like you to keep me young." He teased, large hands giving your ass a firm squeeze, smiling as you squealed into his ear. "Nothin' wrong with that."

You smiled, moving his curly tendrils out of his face. He kissed you fully, lips sliding over yours in a passionate kiss that had your cheeks heating. "Don't listen to her, alright?" Eddie muttered against your lips.

You nod, looking over your shoulder, face falling when you look at Brielle's door. Eddie followed your gaze, shoulders dropping. "Was she upset?" He asked.

You shrugged lightly. "She said she did it all the time... Apologized to me for what she said." You muttered.

Eddie cringed gently, air exhaling out his mouth in a loud sigh. "'M just gonna go check on her." He said, eyes softening to look at you. "See where the hell she wants these drawers too." He huffed, motioning to the unfinished project in the living room.

You grinned, smacking his ass playfully in his sweatpants. "Go check on her." You teased, winking at him.Eddie raised his brows, grinning before pointing at you. "You better watch yourself, little girl." He purred, smirking at your blistering flush.

[eris-snow]

𝟐𝟎 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

✨When you read each other's minds

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, bakugou's birthday series 2023

Bakugou and you play a game to see how well you know each other. You both are really good at it.

"No."

"Come on Bakugou! It'll be fun-"

"No."

"Bakugou, it's just a game to who knows each other best!" Kirishima expresses, patting him on his back. "Please?"

Bakugou slams his cup on the kitchen counter, whipping to Kirishima with a nasty scowl. "I know what you're tryna pull, Shitty Hair." He spits, "You want me to play a couples activity. With Sunshine, right?'

Kirishima stiffens.

Bakugou sighs, running a hand down his face. There was no point in trying to hide it anymore. From the Quirk accident the other day to everything in between, Bakugou knows that he can't keep running from his feelings forever.

What's stopping him, though?

"Listen," He says, tearing his eyes from Kirishima. "I don't know what Dunce Face told you, or what you're speculating, but I'll do...whatever the hell I'm doing at my own fucking pace." He fills his cup with boiling hot water, going through the motions to make a hot cup of chocolate.

"Who put you up to this?" Bakugou asks exasperatedly, still not looking at Kirishima in the eye.

Kirishima scratches his head sheepishly. "Mina."

Bakugou rolls his eyes. Why isn't he fucking surprised? "Whatever. Tell her to fuck off about this lovey-dovey bullshit and to leave me alone-"

"Ashido!"

Your groan interrupts Bakugou's rant, making both him and Kirishima's attention diverted to the living room where you were, sitting so innocently on the couch while being completely oblivious as to what Mina was planning.

Bakugou's heart drops when he hears you say, "What do you want to do tonight?"

It plunges further when he sees almost all of Class 2-A gathered down in the living room, all ready to participate in one way or another for Ashido's game.

"What the fuck."

Kirishima seizes his opportunity. "If you leave, I think she said something about pairing L/N with Denki," he says thoughtfully. "They have a lot in common, after all."

Bakugou snarls at Kirishima, who smiles back innocently.

God dammit.

--

"Seriously, fuck all of y'all."

Bakugou grits his teeth and sits on the single vacant armchair. He avoids your gaze and ignores Kirishima's blatant high-five with Mina somewhere in his peripheral vision.

Let's just get this over and done with.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Mina announces, looking more excited than necessary. "You all know the rules! We even made a list of questions for the game! The judges will ask one person of each pair the question and the other has to write down their own the answer. If both people in the pair have the same answer they get a point! Whichever couple gets the most right wins!"

Bakugou quirks an eyebrow. "Couple?"

You, on the other hand, look like it's slowly dawning on you what kind of game you're playing. And at this point, it's too late to back out. Your face morphs from realisation to a full-body panic attack, and Katsuki can't blame you because that's exactly how he feels too.

"Fine, best friends, if you will, Blasty." Mina relents. "First team is Kirishima and me! The second team is Midoriya and Uraraka and the third team is Bakugou and Y/n! Todoroki and Momo will judge and the rest will be spectators. Any questions?"

Bakugou has many questions. But he keeps his mouth ironed shut and just manoeuvres himself to plop down on the arm of the chair you were sitting on. "We doing this or what?" He snaps.

Todoroki raises an eyebrow.

Mina has that weird glint in her eye.

And Mineta is busy cursing in all kinds of different languages.

Bakugou turns to you and you get the hint, cooling the blush on your cheeks as you slide over for him to sit down.

"Yeah. Let's do this."

--

First question:

"Where does your partner prefer hanging out when they are free?" Momo says, reading aloud.

Bakugou smirks to himself as he sits facing you, scrawling out the answer on the board while Midoriya bites his lip harshly.

He didn't expect it to be this easy.

"Oh! I usually just chill out in the living room! You know, to hang out with friends." Ochaco says, scratching her head. Midoriya flips his board over and smiles sheepishly at her. "Sorry! I just, um, I didn't really know so I put your dorm room." He looks at Todoroki hopefully, who shakes his head. "Sorry, Midoriya. Too specific."

"I go to the mall!" Mina exclaims excitedly, but her face falls when Kirishima flips his board nervously with the words: Dorm, written messily on it. "We haven't really had much free time until recently!" Kirishima protests as Momo awards them with zero points.

"What about you, L/n?" Sero asks. All attention falls on both of you as you stutter out your answer. "There's, um, a green patch right outside Baku-I mean the dorms. It's near the forested area surrounding the premise of the school." Bakugou grins, whirling his board around that said: green patch surrounded by tall ass trees.

"I can't believe Blasty actually remember something like that..." Denki says in disbelief as Todoroki awarded a point to their team. "Course I'd remember. Who do you take me for, hah?" Bakugou lashes back.

It's right outside my balcony, after all.

This goes on like this with some back and forth from the other pairs, but you and Bakugou somehow kept syncing answers even after Todoroki and Momo dialled the difficulty up for the both of you.

What's your favourite colour? Easy. It's red. He doesn't why, even though you give a vague description he can tell is an excuse. You can't help but flash a glance at Bakugou's brilliant red eyes at the question. You bite your lip.

Yeah, it's red, alright.

What's Bakugou's favourite pastime? You shake your head, smile returning. "Sleeping," You reply with ease, matching Bakugou's board without hesitation.

"On a scale of one to ten, how much you do you trust Bakugou?"

Bakugou scoffs. These questions were even more stupid than he thought. "100." you reply nonchalantly, stealing his mug of hot cocoa.

Bakugou lets you.

He flips the board over and the number one hundred sits there innocently, with no eraser marks in sight.

It was the last question that stumps Bakugou.

"What do you like about your partner?" Bakugou wants to strangle Todoroki.

He takes in a deep breath, and glances at you. You were making such a conflicted face that it almost makes Bakugou laugh. He doesn't, though.

What does he like about you?

He thinks and thinks but there are just too many possible answers. That's when one quality tumbles to the front of his mind. It's a reply that crawls its way into Bakugou's mind's driver's seat, and it's not one that Bakugou likes. However, no matter how much he tries to dismiss it, it stays.

You've gotten everything correct at this point, and doing this might screw that up, but he sure as hell isn't gonna lie in front of the entire class just so he can win a perfect score with you. He scrawls out his word and waits for you to answer.

Uraraka guesses correctly, that that damn nerd likes her positivity, which just melts the cinnamon rolls into a blushing mess. Mina guesses correctly that Kirishima likes her compassion towards everyone.

Kirishima further turns into a stuttering mess when she hugs him tightly because, Bakugou can tell, there are some unsaid words flying over their heads that only the both of the can interpret.

All eyes land on you two again. "I-uh-I don't know." You laugh self-deprecatingly. "Maybe my skills at hand-to-hand combat? We spar a lot outside of training." You add quickly, flushing "Either that or it's nothing."

The audience was not impressed. Bakugou shakes his head, staring directly into your eyes. "You're a moron." He utters, flipping his board around. There's only one word:

Everything.

You stare at Bakugou.

Bakugou stares at you.

Fucking hell, he just made it weird, didn't he?

"No points," Todoroki interrupts, "But you guys still win. Congratulations. Here, have a mint."

His hot chocolate is cold now, having been sitting out for way too long. The cup's almost empty now, he realises because you had been drinking from it too.

Your heart is pounding as loudly as the pitter patter of the rain outside as heat rises to your cheeks.

There's one last eye lock before the both of you avert your eyes.

You don't talk to him for the rest of the night.

[eating-plastic]

Carnival Lights: Henry Barrow x Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder (come on, it's Henry), swearing, some mean!Henry, naive!reader, sunshine!reader x grumpy!Henry (my favorite dynamic lol), some fluff, probably grammatical errors

Word Count: 3434 words

A/N: This is for that anon that asked me if I wrote for Henry Barrow (assuming that they wanted me to write something for him lol). I know I said I was going to take a break from Killer Frequency, but the “people pleaser” in me wanted to get something done. So yeah, I hope this isn't too disappointing. I also hope that my interpretation of Henry is to your liking (you gotta get creative when given a blank slate like him 😆). As such, I also hope anyone else that is a fan of this skrunkly also enjoys this as well. Oh, also, this takes place before the events of the game during Marie and Henry's "national murder tour" leading up to Gallows Creek. Just thought you should know that. Bye!

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

Sparkling lights and the sound of upbeat music and screams of excitement flood your senses as you skip through the crowds attending your hometown's yearly carnival. You had always partaken in the festivities ever since you were a child, and the event still filled you with joy. Some of the older booth vendors and ride operators even knew you by name.

You had originally shown up with two of your friends, promising that they wouldn't get too "lovey-dovey" with each other since they were a couple, but that was broken about 15 minutes into your arrival. Feeling like a third-wheel, you broke off from them, not really caring too much. You could easily enjoy yourself here without them.

After you finished playing a game where you had to try and hit cartoon sea creatures with a water gun (and failing since your aim wasn't the best), you decided to head to something you knew you were good at: the funhouse maze.

You knew the maze like the back of your hand, and could easily make it from the entrance to the exit, so you decided to see how many combinations of routes you could go. You wanted to know every nook and cranny that these dark, black light lighten halls had to offer.

Once you got bored, you began to make your way to the exit. Once at a crossroad where you needed to turn right, you stopped when you heard a man let out a shout of frustration. Worried that they were lost, you made your way towards the noise to help them out.

'God fucking damnit,' Henry thought. He was so fucking close to getting the man his mother told him to kill. He was right on his tail and then...he was gone. Now he was lost in this Goddamn maze and it was all his stupid fault because he knew he wasn't good with mazes. It was a good idea in theory, since the man would be all alone with no one would hear him scream. But of course in practice it had to bite him in the ass.

He tore his mask off and shoved it into his large duffle bag at his side. God, was it making it hard to breathe in this stuffy prison. Not to mention how that man was probably long gone by now.

'Augh, what am I gonna tell mom?' worry began to flood his mind. She was no doubt going to be pissed at him.

Luckily for Henry, his unaware savior was approaching.

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

As soon as you rounded the corner, you were now facing a man of decent stature, with long hair, a black trench coat, and a large duffle bag at his side. It was quite odd attire to be wearing in the middle of summer, but maybe he was just a worker at the haunted house who wanted to try out the maze on his break. He also seems to be oblivious to your presence, muttering to himself.

"Hi!" you chirp, causing the man to jump and spin around.

"The hell are you doing, here?" he hisses.

"Uh, it's a maze at a carnival. I'm here having fun," his harsh tone was completely lost on you. "You're lost, right?"

"What do you think?" he snarls, but you just laugh.

"Yep! I thought so! Come on, I'll show you the way out," you grab his hand, noting that he was wearing black leather gloves. Also odd, but once again that could've been just another part of the haunted house attire.

The man rips his hand from your grip as if yours had burnt his. You look back at him confused, but just shrug and begin to run off towards the exit.

"Hey, wait!" the man shouts and begins to chase after you, making sure to be on your tail so he could leave.

Eventually, you and him were able to taste the fresh air of the carnival, with the added smell of fair foods. You turn to look at the man, only to be taken aback a bit.

He looked to be a boy about your age, with piercing eyes but a very handsome face. You also noticed that he was unfamiliar to you.

"Huh, I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new?" you smile at him, but he just turns to walk back towards the crowded rows of booths. "Hey, wait up!"

You decide to follow him. If he was new, you didn't want him to be overwhelmed or lonely.

"I'm Y/N!" you grin, but he just continues walking forwards. His eyes scanning the crowds and his jaw tight.

"Oh, you don't talk much, huh? That's okay! What do you wanna do? Do you wanna get something to eat? Oh! Or we co-"

"Look, don't you have friends or something that you can go hang out with?" he asks sharply. Unfortunately for Henry, the tone was once again lost on you.

"I do, but they'd rather make out in the tunnel of love than hang out with me," your tone drops slightly which makes Henry's eyebrow quirk up. After a couple of seconds though, just shake your head and smile back at him. "It's okay though, because I met you! I love meeting new people!"

'Jesus, what was your deal?' Henry thought. You were like a Care Bear in human shape. So sickeningly sweet that it was making him feel weird. How could someone like you exist in the cruel world his mom had told him so much about? Has it not broken you, yet?

"Oh, look! Bumper cars! You wanna go do those?" you beam up at him. Henry sighed. If he put up with this, maybe you would leave him alone. Besides, you provided him good cover. A new face like him dressed the way he was all by himself may drive suspicion. So he turned his head to look at your eager face and uttered one word.

"Fine."

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

You weren't bad at bumper cars, but you also didn't win. Not that you cared though, especially since your mystery man had won. You were surprised at his skills and made sure to tell him.

Henry listening to you gush over him was odd. Not used to getting such praise from someone who wasn't his mother. And like with his mother, it made him feel good.

You continue to skip through the crowds with him at your side. He was still scanning all of the people around you, but his jaw wasn't tight anymore. That elated you, as you took it as him finally enjoying himself. You both stop when you hear someone call your name.

"Is that you, Y/N?" the voice of an older man called from a game booth. Your face brightens and you run to him, Henry following after you.

"Frank! I haven't seen you in ages!" you hug him over the booth's countertop. Henry tenses up and watches the man closely.

"You're one to talk! I haven't seen you since you were just 'this' tall," Frank levels his hand to show just how small you were when he had last seen you. He opens his mouth to speak again, but stops when his eyes fall on Henry. "Hey, Y/N, who's your friend?"

"He's new in town! I saved him from the maze!" you chirp.

"Ah, okay," he drawls, looking at Henry suspiciously. Upon seeing you look at him fondly though, he puts on his best "friendly face" and holds his hand out. "Pleasure to meet you, son."

Henry looks at Frank's hand before shaking it, still analyzing the older man. You are completely oblivious to the tension, as you look at the milk bottles that are stacked up in the booth.

"Hey, Frank! Care if we play?" you pull some tickets out from your back pocket. Frank's mood changes at the sound of your voice and smiles at you.

"Of course! You and your friend here get three shots," he kneels down to hand you three baseballs first.

You throw all three and only get three of the six bottles down.

"Oh, well! Your turn!" you turn to smile at Henry and move out of his way. Frank hands him three baseballs just as he did with you. He takes the ball, pulls his arm back, and....

All six bottles tumble down with a force that startles both you and Frank.

"Well I'll be damned! I have never seen anyone knock those bottles down like that! You play baseball, son?" the older man asks Henry, amazed.

"No," he says, shortly.

The older man clears his throat at the awkward silence before looking towards the stuffed animals that hung around the booth.

"Well, you won. Pick out your prize."

Henry wanted to just walk away, but looked at you in his peripheral. You were staring longingly at a pink elephant plush that had a cute, cartoony face. He points to that one.

"This one right here?" Frank asks, taking the elephant down. Henry nods. "Alright! Here ya go."

Henry takes the stuffed animal and nods at him.

"Bye, Frank!" you call as Henry begins to walk away from the booth.

"Bye, Y/N! See you next year!"

As soon as you both are five feet away from the booth, Henry practically shoves the plush at you.

"Here."

"What-?"

"You wanted it. I got it. Now take it," he says shortly. You look up at him, confused, but he still continues to walk forward and scan the crowd. You take the plushie and smile at it. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, with the softest fur you ever felt.

You squeal and pull Henry into a hug, thanking him. He tenses up and pushes you off.

"What the hell are you doing?" he scowls.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I just w-wanted to...," you trail off, hurt evident in your voice and eyes.

Your change in demeanor causes Henry to feel guilty, and the couple of eyes he could sense on him only added to that feeling. He sighs and rests his hand on your shoulder.

"Look, I'm...I'm sorry, okay. Just...just warn me before you do that again...please," his voice is now soft as he looks at you, wanting you to know that he did really feel sorry.

"Okay," you whisper, still feeling miserable about making him uncomfortable.

"Hey, why don't...," Henry thinks for a second. "Why don't we go on a ride, huh?"

"Okay," a smile forms on your face. "Which one do you wanna go on?"

"Whichever one you'd like," Henry gives you the first genuine smile you had seen that night. This causes your own smile to grow and you take his hand to lead to one of the more thrilling rides. Henry doesn't rip his hand away this time, allowing you to drag him to where you wanted to take him.

Once at the ride you wanted to go on, you handed your elephant to the ride operator and Henry hesitantly gives up his bag, before you enter the ride.

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

By the time the ride had ended, you and Henry were wobbling in the best way possible. Henry let out a shaky laugh. He had never felt so alive. Where had this been his whole life? You let out your own laugh at Henry's reaction, before you and him collect your belongings and go on to do more rides and games. While walking, and even making some small talk with your mystery man, he stops when he spots a phone booth.

Henry thinks about his mother, about his mission. He had to call her, to tell her about how he couldn't get a good opening. He wouldn't mention how he was getting distracted or how he was having fun with a living ray of sunshine. He knew how she would probably react if he was honest.

"Hey, uh, Y/N?"

"Yeah?" you look up at him, beaming.

"I, uh...I have to make a phone call. I-I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay! I'll wait right here!" you chirp.

He nods and gives you a small smile, before walking to the booth.

Henry enters the booth and sighs. He rummages around in his pocket before finding some quarters and inserting them into the machine. He lifts the phone and inserts the number to the motel room he and his mother were staying in. He waits, tapping his foot nervously as he waits. Then it stops, and a familiar voice speaks from the other end.

"Yes?" his mother says.

"H-Hi, mom."

"Oh, Henry!" her voice is cheerful. "Did you finish your 'assignment'?"

"No, I haven't. I can't get a good opening," he doesn't mention that he had lost the man to begin with. "Besides, this one person won't leave me alone. They're constantly following me around and bothering me."

His mom sighs on the other end and thinks.

"I'll be over there in a bit. Keep trying, dear. And remember, if you do find your opening, do what you must. Poor kid," she mutters towards the end of the statement.

Henry's stomach drops. He knows instantly what she meant. He didn't want to hurt you. You had nothing to do with...with all of this. You were an innocent, sweet person in this miserable world. Why get rid of someone like you?

"Henry, sweetie, you there?" his mother questions.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, I, uh...I was just looking around. Look, don't worry about coming over. I got this, I promise. I'll call you if I need you, okay?"

"Hm...okay," she pauses, clearly skeptical at her son's words. "Please just stay safe, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, mom. Bye."

"Goodbye."

There is a click, and then the line goes dead. Henry lets out a shaky breath and sets the phone back on its cradle. A knock at the booth startles him out of his thoughts. He turns around to see you looking at him, concerned.

He opens the door to the booth and steps out.

"Sorry," you apologize. "I just wanted to know if you wanted something to eat. Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah...don't worry about it, okay? Food, uh...food sounds great."

"Okay. What would you like?" Henry thinks for a moment before cracking a smile at you.

"Surprise me!"

You nod and walk off to find a food booth. You knew exactly what you wanted to get. You had been craving it ever since you entered the carnival grounds.

Henry followed behind you, curious as to what you were going to get as you passed booth after booth. Then you stop, just what you were looking for.

"I was wondering when you were gonna show up," a woman greets you.

"Hi, Pam!" you smile at her and hand her some dollar bills. "Two candied apples, please!"

"Two?" Pam cocks her head to the side until her eyes fall on Henry. "Oh, I see."

She smirks, interpreting the mystery man besides you and how you were lovingly holding your elephant plush as a date.

A few moments later, Pam turns back to you and Henry with two candied apples in her hands.

"Enjoy, you two!" she winks at you when you and Henry take your treats. The two of you walk once more, while Henry investigates the sweet in his hand. You look over at him and laugh.

"What? Have you never had a candied apple before?"

"Uh, no actually. Are...are they your favorite?" he asks.

"Uh huh!" you nod eagerly. "I have to have at least one when the carnival's up!"

It was true. Ever since you had the teeth to eat them, candied apples had been your favorite treat, even with all of the cavities you had gotten over the years because of them.

Henry slowly raises the apple to his lips and bites down. The taste causes him to pause. He had never tasted something so sweet. It seemed fitting that they were your favorite.

"You like it?" you ask.

He nods his head, before he takes another bite.

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

"So you really aren't gonna leave tomorrow?" you look at Henry sadly.

"Yeah, I-I'm, um...I'm afraid so."

You had learned that Henry was just visiting your hometown on a road trip with his mom. You thought that was fun, because your family always goes on road trips every summer, and yet you were going to miss your new mystery friend.

"Oh, Y/N! There you are!"

You and Henry turn around, seeing your two friends running towards you.

"Yeah, we were really worried!"

That causes Henry to stare daggers at them. They were worried? If they were so Goddamned worried about your safety, then they wouldn't have abandoned you.

"Uh, Y/N...who's this?" they both look at the man beside you that was making them feel uncomfortable under his stare.

'Good,' Henry thought.

"Oh, this is just my friend I made who kept me company this whole time," your voice is still cheerful, but you were still trying to guilt them. Henry smirks at that.

"Oh, well, uh...it's-it's getting late. We should start heading home."

Your eyes widen at that and you look down at your watch. It was almost midnight. God, your parents were gonna kill you.

"Yeah, you guys head to the entrance. I'll catch up!" your friends look at the boy besides you. Despite being the same age as them, something about him didn't seem right. They slowly turn around and do as you told them. As you watch them go, you hear a certain someone mutter something behind you.

"Henry."

"What?" you turn to look up at him.

"That's my name," Henry says.

You try the name out and smile. The sound of you saying his name made his chest feel weird.

"You look like a 'Henry'," you quip.

"That a bad thing?" he quirked an eyebrow at you.

"Nope!" you giggle and shake your head. Your demeanor changes and you awkwardly fiddle for something in your back pocket.

"Here," you hand him a small slip of paper.

Henry takes the paper and unravels it, a phone number revealing itself to him.

"Just in case you wanna keep in touch, o-or you know...just letting me know if you're gonna be in town again," you sheepishly state, squeezing the elephant in your arms. You had written your number down when he went off to make his phone call. You felt silly since you didn’t even know his name yet, but you knew you liked him either way.

"I, uh...I think I'll do just that," he smiles at you and puts the paper in his pocket. You smile back.

"I'm gonna hug you. Is that okay?"

Henry laughs, before opening his arms to you. You wrap one of your arms around him and he wraps his arms around your waist. Neither of you want to pull away, knowing that it would mean the end of your night together and who knows how long until you see each other again.

Unfortunately, your friends were waiting for you and he had a mission that you were unaware of. You pull away first.

"Goodbye, Henry," you quickly press a peck to his cheek. He tenses, but then looks at you shyly.

"Y-Yeah...goodbye, Y/N," a shade of pink crosses his face. He then clears his throat before pointing to your plushie. "You take good care of him."

You giggle and nod your head, before turning and walking away from him. Not even five feet away from him, you turn back and wave both your hand and your elephant's arm goodbye. Henry shakes his head and smiles, lifting his hand up to give a small wave of his own.

He stood there, watching your figure get smaller and smaller, until you disappeared into the crowd entirely.

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

The man was killed swiftly in the haunted house of all places. No one suspected a thing, believing that the body was just a prop and the screams just sound effects.

Now Henry was laying down on his bed in the motel room his mother had rented. She was in the bathroom washing his knife and mask.

He could still hear the noises of the crowds cheering, feel the shakiness in his limbs after a thrill ride, taste the candied apple on his tongue, and feel your kiss on his cheek.

Perhaps when he and his mother got into the next town and had to split up again, he would see if that number you gave him was real.

[fountian-of-youth]

Welcome to the fountian of youth project !

Here you will be meeting Entity/z- 013253 -

Case file here

Badges

Bad end file here

Mantis allo!

Timeline info

Ascended form

And appearance insert here

His room /kitchen area

This is a rp blog drama , action or friendly conversation are very much welcomed !!

Of course if you wish to talk to the doctor you can !

Dr. kraken , the founder of fountain of youth and one to have created the serum allo was injected with .

Insert image here

Case file here

Bad end file here

Ascended form

Rules

° you must be strictly 18+ to interact with this blog since it will dive into very serious and adult topics by that like murder , gore and trauma of any kind

° for the love of God pls keep things fucking sfw. I will not fucking stand straight up NSFW questions regarding pregnancy and weird fetishes

° joked are jokes but if I do much see another joke disguising a kink you are getting blocked , yes even evil gays have a line they won't draw and shockingly there a real person controlling this (I have cursed knowledge of forbidden things do not make me have a flash back )

° please don't control my OCS feelings or actions (unless your Melinda ) and generally be respectful cause they are my oc only I know their reaction

° I have a busy life so pls don't spam me with ask or tags , I'll reply in my own time but if I do forget pls do tag me or remind me in dm ! I'll try to respond as best I can

° I'm ok with hurting the two and trying to kill them since allo's immortal and kraken kinda a cyborg but don't go too far that or borders healthy obsession

° I don't mind fanart or art in ask! Pls send it helps me picture the interactions better

°other than that you're good to go ! If you want to discuss plots and ideas for our chats/rps dm me! I love to plot and go into character development!

Additional stuff

@creator-of-creativious is my other main blog where I'll post art or random posts not related/ related to this account

I'll be using hashtags to keep our rps in like of these : #fountainofyouthproject, allo, allo nanol , Dr. Kraken .

He will also talk in orange text so it be easy for you guys to read and spot while Dr. Kraken will have red text and white speech

I'll use your OCS and your username as tags as well so you can see it

With that over ask away !!

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For allo

A kitchen hidden away and set in a more secretive part of the hadal back site. A hoodies figure is walking about sorting throughout items and spices seemingly absorbed into his work.

His hands are nimble and gentle when picking or setting and his tail and wings indicate he's isn't human anymore. Is he trustworthy ? Or is he an enemy ?

Do you approach?

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For dr.kraken

He was stationed in his usual spot working away in the lab he pretty much claimed it for himself. He didn't like working with anyone and he certainly wouldn't like someone like you walking in to order him around .

His tendrils whipped about the room to grab what he needed gasping items or tools to get his work done. A sadistic glee shining in his eyes.

Do you choose to be civil ? Or snippy ?

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Bad end allo

Shifting in the encloser of his cell a massive creature stared at the doorway that was the only access to the cramped space. Hollowed glowing eyes staring forward at the cursed opening. He didn't like being trapped . He hated it actually he wanted this to end - who was he ? That caught him off guard....who was he ??.....

He stopped thinking when he snapped his head and stared down at the person that dared enter the cell he was trapped in. A snarl ripping through his throat

(for mini bad end picture he was cat sized and your expendable / entity runs across him in the halls because he escaped )

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Bad end Dr.kraken

You were running down the halls shaking and panting as the second breeched happen (your either a scientist or expandable ) shaking as nee entities or old ones captured were out again and causing havoc.

You turned and tried to run avoiding anything but stopped with wide eyes as before you stood a large albino like creature with a razor sharp smile.

Do you flee ? Or beg?

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

For the writing ask: 10, and maybe 17?

(I love your writing by the way!)

:D Thank you muchly anon, both for the ask and the compliment!

Hmmm, since I already answered these elsewhere I shall link to those other answers and give you snippets related to the questions instead :3

10: Top three favourite fic tropes.

Since I mentioned my half written ABO fic, I shall give you a snippet from that rough draft!

Jason attempts to initiate an omegan "give me food as a sign I'm family" ritual with Tim one day, not realizing that no one other than Jason knows that Jason isn't an alpha. Tim interprets it as an alphetic "fuck you bitch I should be higher in the pecking order than you" move.

But then Jason's reaction to Tim baring fangs and snarling at him feels... really weird. Like, if he didn't know better that looked less like a challenger alpha backing off and more like an omega feeling hurt and rejected.

...But he does know better, is the thing. He's seen Jason's DNA, and his chromosomes are very clearly alpha, no ambiguity about it.

...He is weirdly big for an alpha though? Like, fucking huge, honestly, the kind of huge that really only loner omegas, stressed ones at that, can manage - or devoted venom users like Bane and Jason really isn't the type to go for doping. That's no guarentee, after all Dick is nearly just as big and he's as Alpha as they come, but then again, there is a reason that genotype and phenotype are different words come to think of it and...

Well shit. Maybe he doesn't know better.

The next time they meet, Tim offers him an apple out of his lunch. If Jason's actually just a big alpha, it'll be a confusing as fuck submissive respect towards a higher pack alpha move considering their earlier scuffle, possibly an insulting implication about his height or weight, and just generally very weird. But if he's an omega, it's the first step to actually repairing this.

Jason is hesitant, but accepts it, takes one bite, and then hands it back, a symbolic acceptance that proves he ate just as a bond. Very, very clear omegan behavior.

The time after that he brings enough to share, bagged such that it's easy to dole out portions. Jason is cautious, but receptive and after the confusion is explained he tucks into the food offered to him heartily.

"So, seriously, whole group of the best detectives on earth, and not a single fucking one of them put together that the extremely obvious omega who wasn't even trying to hide this shit, was an omega? Not one?"

"As far as I can tell, I'm the first to figure it out."

"Is that why Bruce keeps trying herd me all the time?!"

Tim laughs, "Yuuup! He thinks you're shoving off his overprotective routine!"

"I hate this so fucking much, it's so goddamn stupid and it explains WAY too many things!"

"I'm so sorry for solving a good third of all your social problems."

"Oh like it didn't take you this many fucking years to figure it out!"

"In my defense, I've literally never met you with your scent blockers off."

Jason mulls that over inbetween bites of lo mein. It's not a pleasant thought that he's been so removed from their lives that this might be a feasible thing to miss, "...You want to change that?"

Tim perks up, surprised, but happy, maybe even trying to rein in his own excitment, "Yeah! That- I mean whatever you're comfortable with, that'd be nice."

They go to one of Tim's apartments, since honestly Jason doesn't have a scented one. Tim greets him at the door, mouth open delicately sniffing at him. After a second of hesitation Jason leans down so they're cheek to cheek, overtly figuring out each others scents.

He smells sweat, testosterone, and a thousand other animal scents that combine to make something that is uniquely Tim. it's wonderful and Jason wants it on him, wants it all over himself.

There are human ways to ask for these things, usually involving words, and the polite exchanging of sweaters, but he doesn't know the right words, has never really had this, has never be able to try to ask, and so he doesn't. He trills, like he's feral. He honestly feels feral, so out of his depth that he's stripped down to animal need and instinct.

Tim shifts in surprise ever so subtly, then cautiously but firmly sets his cheekbone against Jason's offering what he wants wordlessly. Jason takes it, rubbing his cheek against Tim roughly all the way down from his face to where his neck connects with his shoulder.

Tim laughs breathlessly and returns the scenting affection with just as much vigor.

They rub their cheeks and necks together long enough that he gets tired of having to bend down, so Jason just picks Tim up to make it more comfortable, a low rumbling purr from him slowly getting louder, joined by Tim's encouraging alpha chirps.

They finish once they're so thoroughly drenched in each other's scent that no one but a bloodhound could tell them apart. Jason gently sets him down, backing up as much as the door behind him would allow and then they just... carry on as though it's all chill and normal, discussing cases, then some other light talk, and then sharing takeout tacos.

"How long do you think it'll take them to notice?"

"With you actually treating me like an omega? Give it maybe one visit. They can't seriously be <em>that</em> stupid."

He said, right before they immediately prove that they are, in fact, that stupid.

17: Past or present tense? Why?

For this one I'll give you the spot where I'm playing around with tense changes as a thematic device in the next chapter of Chained: To Wield the Blade we Have Forged. its under the read more cause Spoilers (also I may tweak some more stuff before it actually gets published, we'll see!)

A young girl stood on a chair cutting her hair off into messy chunks over the bathroom sink. Her face was fixed in a scowl of determination, lit only by the pale nightlight she'd taken into the bathroom.

She hadn't been willing to take the risk of turning on the proper lights. She was afraid one of her parents would walk past and see the glow through the cracks around the door and demand to know what she was doing up this late.

They'd notice her hair in the morning, obviously, but something told her that begging forgiveness in the morning was far safer than being caught in the act at night.

The scissors bent and creaked in protest as she forced them to saw through the entirety of her pony tail all at once. She muttered curses at them - Hadn't she just gotten in trouble a few days ago for playing with them because they were dangerous? Weren't these stupid things supposed to be sharp?!

Unfortunately, without the light on, and without a lock to keep anyone out, her father didn't bother to knock before he opened the door and stepped into the bathroom.

There is a moment of frozen panic as the world slides and slips into two overlapping images. In one translucent view Dad was yelling about what on earth she thought she was doing to her hair and about waking Mom up to try and salvage it. That sequence slips like oil off of the concrete surface of this other moment.

Dad stands still and quiet. There is a sorrow on his face so profound it's frightening.

"I think I regret this argument more than any other. Maybe it's- you know human memory is a mess but... it felt later like this must've been where it all went wrong."

She didn't understand; this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"What?"

"After I found out about Robin and the puberty blockers and Bruce, I thought about this moment a lot. Couldn't help but look back and try and sort it all out in my head. And maybe I didn't ask for your perspective on it enough, or maybe I asked about it too much or - cripes I don't know, but it felt like this was where the first brick in the wall between us got laid."

Tim suddenly remembers that he hasn't been the little girl in this bathroom for thirteen years. He's left adrift, standing there in his pajamas, scissors still in hand.

"I- I don't know. I don't really think about this much anymore. It's been years since I thought about anything that happened when I was this young."

[samgirl98]

Wail of the Silent 5/?

Prev | Next

TW: Mention of suicide

I would like to state that I know nothing about artificial voice boxes, but I do know the way I'm writing about them isn't accurate so please don't take it that way. Enjoy

Danny ate the best omelet he had ever had with gusto.

“Have you ever considered opening a diner?”

Jason smiled wryly.

You got that idea from an omelet? What if that’s the only thing I know how to make?

Danny read the notepad and laughed.

God, Jason thought, he has a nice laugh.

Danny smiled impishly at him. Fuck, Jason needed to learn how to control this new form of communication.

Amusement. You’re funny, amused. Amused.

Jason gave Danny the bird, trying not to blush.

“It’s okay. I think you’re cute, too.”

Jason’s blush deepened. He didn’t know what to do with Danny’s mild flirting.

Finish your food. I want to talk about this Spectra and how we’re gonna get her.

Danny sighed. Ancients, Jason was stubborn.

“Jason, she’s fed off you and caused you almost to kill yourself. Don’t try to deny it; I felt your emotions. Your core was screaming in pain. I don’t think it’s a good idea, especially since you don’t know how to control your core and emotions.”

Jason snarled silently.

Anger. No, I’m going. You can’t stop me—anger, determination, determination. You can’t stop me.

Calm, calm. I won’t stop you, Danny chirped (it was still weird to think about a human being chirping and Jason understanding.)

It was weirder still that Jason answered back in chirps, have to do it. I have to get my revenge. Please, please. I have TO!

“Ugh, fine. But first things first. I have to be completely honest with you. I accidentally found out you’re the Red Hood when searching for the ghost that was screaming; when searching for you.”

Jason got a fistful of Danny’s embarrassment. He couldn’t help but smile—finally, something to make fun of Danny for.

Danny felt Jason’s amusement. He saw Jason’s chest move as he gave silent laughs. The man signed something, but Danny couldn’t understand him. He sighed.

“I’m glad my suffering gives you pleasure,” Danny said petulantly.

Jason continued signing while he laughed.

“Seriously, dude, I don’t know sign language.”

Jason wiped invisible tears.

Amusement, fun. Happy. Happy.

This was the first time Danny had heard Jason with no negative emotions calling through his core. He was humming his happiness in full volume.

Fine. If Danny had to feel a little embarrassed for Jason to feel even a bit of amusement, well, Danny could (un)live with that.

Ancients, he had just met the other halfa, and Danny already wanted to make Jason happy.

Jason’s smile grew. Fuck, Danny had it bad.

I was trying to say that since you know, I’m gonna bring my helmet. I have an artificial voice box on it. It’ll make it easier to talk to you with it on.

Danny shrugged, “That’s up to you.”

Jason smirked and left Danny alone. Danny took time to look around the small living room. Either than the bookshelf full of well-worn books, the place didn’t look lived in. There was no TV, only a couch and coffee table. No photos, no decorations, no plants. It almost looked like a model for an apartment brochure. The kitchen was a little more well-used with state-of-the-art appliances.

“Okay,” a mechanized voice said behind him, “Let’s talk.”

Danny turned to see Jason in the red helmet he had seen the night before. Danny couldn’t see the other halfa’s expressions, but considering how unused Jason was communicating with his core, Danny knew that wouldn’t be a problem for him.

“What does this Spectra want?”

“In a nutshell? To be young and beautiful forever. The way she achieves that is by feeding off others’ misery. She posed as my school psychiatrist my freshman year and fed off me and my whole school.”

Jason stayed silent, waiting for Danny to continue.

“She’s upped the ante now. Before, she fed off people's misery, but now she’s causing them to kill themselves. I found two of them who hung themselves in Amity Park, where I’m from, and the other died because of the overwhelming sadness. Unfortunately, I couldn’t save them.” Danny clenched his fists.

“When she found out I was after her, she fled Amity Park and came here. It makes sense; even the ghosts and shades here are miserable, let alone those who live here. It’s a buffet for her. I can’t find her, though. I felt her earlier, but it’s so weird because I could tell she wasn’t near; my ghost sense hadn’t gone off.”

 “Okay,” Jason said, “That’s a lot to take in. So, this bitch was feeding off me last night?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t get to her before she left, though.”

“Lucky for you, Batman raised me; I can help you look for her.”

Danny frowned, still not liking that Jason would be close to Spectra.

“Hey, none of that. I deserve to get my revenge.”

“Yeah, I get that. Besides, if you don’t come with me, you might go alone and get in trouble.”

Amusement—yeah, I will—amusement.

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Okay, if we’re gonna do this together, I have to give you a crash course on ghosts. First things first, ghosts are made of ectoplasm,” Danny raised the palm of his hand and called for ectoplasm to form.

The effect was immediate. Jason got off his chair as far as he could from Danny.

Fear, his core yelled out, anger, not right—fear, anger. Evil.

Danny made the ectoball disappear and put his hands up.

“Jason? What’s wrong?”

Jason took a deep breath that the artificial voice box didn’t pick up and said, “Give me a second. I have bad experiences with that color and…” Jason trailed off.

“You’ve seen ectoplasm before, and it wasn’t a good experience, was it?”

Fear, scared, drowning—it will drown me again—fear, get it away from me. Anger. Anger. FURY! Madness. Rage

Danny said nothing, letting Jason deal with his emotions. It’d be good practice for when they deal with Spectra.

Eventually, Jason calmed down, but Danny could still feel the anger simmering under the surface.

Jason didn’t come to sit by Danny again. He was wary of the other man. He crossed his arms and silently let Danny continue.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t think it would affect you.”

Jason waved the apology away.

“Continue,” he said curtly.

“Well, ectoplasm is what every ghost is made of. It is imprinted emotions given form. A core develops deep in the ectoplasm. The core is the brain and heart of a ghost. The only organ a ghost has, the ectoplasm protects the core. That’s how we’re communicating, by the way. Your core processes your feelings into chirps and hums. The hums are raw emotions; the chirps are kind of like human words.”

Jason touched the middle of his chest. It felt warm.

“Yeah, that’s where your core is. It isn’t fully developed. It’s almost as if it has been stunted in its growth. Actually, the ectoplasm in you is…dirty? Corrupted?” Danny shrugged, “It’s probably why you haven’t been able to transform. Have you noticed any powers?”

“No,” Jason answered. Of course, he was dirty. (Only a corrupt person would kill.) Jason felt sadness and rejection settle deep in his bones. He always knew something was wrong with him, but to have it confirmed that it was inside and settled in his body? Well, it certainly hit hard.

Acceptance, calm, calm—I accept you for who you are.

Why?

He looked up and wished his helmet wasn’t in the way so Danny could see his face. Why was he helping Jason?

“When I was looking for you, a bunch of shades and ghosts surrounded your place. They didn’t have much strength to come and help, but they asked me to help you. You want to know what they called you?”

“What,” he asked. His mechanical voice couldn’t pick up the emotions behind his question. Jason knew Danny could tell what he was feeling.

“They called you the avenger of the dead. The protector of the living. I’m more inclined to trust the dead’s judgment than the living’s.”

Jason felt like crying. There was someone who wasn’t condemning him, wasn’t calling him a killer. Not that he wasn’t, but it was nice to be acknowledged that he was doing something good. At least the dead appreciated him.

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Jason said, “how can you just accept me?”

Jason felt the sting of betrayal from his family, his father. What if Danny did the same thing eventually?

Danny looked at Jason softly. The other halfa had suffered so much. It’s no wonder Spectra had latched on to Jason so quickly.

Danny let his emotions encircle Jason.

Acceptance, acceptance, calm—it’s okay.

“I know I’m a stranger; there’s no reason to trust me, but I want to help you. I promise.

“I believe you,” Jason answered. He took off his helmet so Danny could see Jason’s expression. Jason looked up at Danny’s shockingly blue eyes and saw the same thing that Danny surrounded him with. Acceptance.

Jason didn’t know if he just wanted to believe or why he latched on to Danny so quickly, but he hoped it wasn’t a mistake.

Danny sighed. He so wanted to touch Jason’s (handsome) face, but that would be too fast. Like Jason, Danny was also confused about how he could’ve latched on to a virtual stranger so quickly. Maybe it was because they were both lonely, or being halfas could’ve been something to do with it, but Danny wasn’t complaining.

 “Come on, let’s continue our talk.”

Danny got Jason’s hand and led him to the couch. Jason couldn’t help but blush.

“Anything you want to ask before I continue,” Danny asked as he got the notepad and sat on the couch. He waited for Jason to do the same.

Jason shook his head no. He didn’t feel like putting the helmet on or writing, but he still took the pad and pen.

Jason pointed to himself and then put his finger over his mouth.

Danny smiled; he should learn sign language. Even if he left Gotham, he would like to keep in touch with Jason, and the other man wouldn’t be able to communicate with his core if Danny was far away.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, cores. There are different types of cores. Fire cores, shadow ones, ice ones, like the one I have.”

Jason cocked his head to the side; is that why the apartment was colder?

“I don’t know what type you have, but it seems to depend on how a ghost usually dies. I’m the exception, not the rule.”

Jason wanted to ask how Danny died, but something in him told him it would be wrong to do so.

“I can feel your curiosity. I won’t be able to talk about it. Also, don’t go around asking ghosts how they died; it’s rude.”

Jason was glad he kept his mouth (ha!) shut.

“Next, there are obsessions. An obsession is a ghost's reason for being, the thing that keeps them tethered. Spectra’s obsession is being young and powerful. I know of another ghost that wants to be remembered and hypnotizes people through her music. Another one is obsessed with playing games. They could be deadly sometimes. The point is that obsessions equal staying in the mortal and infinite realms.”

What’s yours?

Danny read it and got pensive. Jason hoped it wasn’t taboo to ask about obsessions.

“Mine are protecting and space.”

There can be more than one?

“Yeah, I mean, Spectra has two, too. Youth, power. The way she obtains it can be deadly, though.”

Jason pondered Danny’s words. He wondered what his obsession was. Should he instinctively know?

“Don’t worry. I’m here to help.”

Jason smiled, grateful.

Thanks, it’s a lot to think about.

“Yeah, you should’ve seen when I first got my powers. I was a mess. Freshman year sucked ass.”

Jason’s brow creased, and then his eyes widened. Freshman year, Danny would’ve been what, fourteen? Did he die at fourteen?

Sadness, anger.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Jason shook his head, not wanting to make Danny feel bad.

Danny sighed and put his hands under his chin, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I came here for Spectra but have no idea how to find her.”

Jason looked at Danny.

I have an idea where she could show up.

____

Lady Gotham felt her favorite knight’s emotions as if they were hers.

She smiled; Jason felt lighter, and it was all thanks to the other halfa. She would make sure that the other halfa was under her protection.

She watched as Bruce Wayne stepped on a puddle she didn’t think to show him.

Now she had to think of ways to help Jason and Danny.

[baraadmirer]

Content warning: contains an instance of felching and incestuous undertones.

"So, Nico, you can't even handle taking money from old man Smith? Pathetic." I look up and can't move. I've been tied to a wooden chair as the boss' son glares down at me, his barrel chest almost blocking out the only lamp hanging from the basement ceiling.

"Daniel, please, I—" I start, but he interrupts me.

"You're making me look bad, Nico. I don't like disappointing my father." He raises his leg and puts his shoe on the chair, just above my shoulder before pushing it, sending it and me crashing to the ground. He walks around to me. "I might as well get something out of this." My mouth opens but no words come out as I watch Daniel unfasten his belt and his jeans fall to the ground. He slips off his briefs and slaps his dick on my cheek. I look at it for a moment before I open my mouth and let it slip in.

"Yeah, that's it, slobber on my knob," he grunts as he forces his thick 8-inch cock further down my throat. I can feel a few drops of pre trickling down my esophagus. "This is all you're good for, isn't it?" he snarls as he repeatedly stabs the back of my throat with his meat. He thrusts in deep and I look up, tears forming in my eyes. He's panting lightly, his eyes scrunched in concentration, and his blue shirt is starting to get stained around his pits.

"That's what you should do from now on: make me feel good," spits Daniel. "Take it, take it all!" he roars as he goes all the way in, and I can feel the rhythmic pulsing from the underside of his cock pressing against my tongue as he deposits his cum down my throat. Not wanting to upset him any further I suppress my urge to gag and do my best to swallow it all. He moans in pleasure as he feels my throat grip on him before he withdraws his dick. He spends a minute panting before he sets the chair upright and unties me.

Daniel crouches down to my eye level and gets into my face. I can feel the warm air from his nostrils brush down across my cheeks. "Get out, bitch," he says menacingly. "I don't want to see your face for a week, understand?" He flings open the door and leaves. I wearily get up on my feet and leave the estate. I find a nearby phone booth and call a friend to crash at. As I walk down the street, I can't get the image of his stern, hard brown eyes out of my mind. It was a sheer display of power and intimidation that caused my heart to flutter in excitement.

Three days later, I'm walking down the street when a sleek black Rolls-Royce passes by me before stopping a few meters ahead. One of the rear windows rolls down and as I walk by a deep voice calls out. "You are Nico Rossi, yes?" I glance back and involuntarily jump a little.

Sitting in the back is a rugged man nearing his mid-50s. Broad-shouldered, solid chest, and a glance that said to everyone he meant business. However, what sticks out to me is his striking resemblance to someone I know very well. "Don Angelo!" I blurt out.

"It is getting very cold," he says to me in accented English. "Please, come in." He gestures to the door. I pull on it and it opens effortlessly. "Come, sit next to me," he commands in a gentle tone. I obey without a second thought as the door closes behind me. The crisp evening air gives way to a still warmth. "Andiamo," he calls out to the driver. The car begins to move.

"Thank you very much for letting me in, sir," I say haltingly. I've never met the man in person.

"Do not mention it," he replies. "Your mother, bless her soul, had asked me to look over you if anything happened to her. You are alright?"

"I am okay, uh, sir. I was just headed back to my friend's place for the night." He raises an eyebrow.

"Oh? I thought you were living under my son's roof as you are one of his men." A statement; not a question.

"I wa– I am! He just didn't want to see me for a while because I'm a disappointment." The last word rings hollow in the confines of the car. "I couldn't get money from someone so he threw me out for a bit."

"I see. I will need to have a talk with my son soon. I thought coming to this country would give him opportunities..." Don Angelo's eyebrows furrow and he looks frustrated.

"Oh, there is no need!" I say, flustered. "He just has high standards for his men. I... I just don't meet them."

"My son is showing that he does not know who his men are," he says coldly. He raises his arm and pats my head. "You are a kind soul, Nico. I expected you to do something like helping my son manage documents and such. If you would like, I can release you from his service."

"That is kind of you, sir, but I want to make him happy. He really looks up to you." My cheeks grow warm and I turn away from him.

"Is something the matter?" he asks me.

"No, not at all, sir," I reply, a little too hastily. "Daniel, er, your son really looks like you is all." His hand drifts from the top of my head to around my shoulder.

"Ever since his mother died he has been looking for me to guidance. He chuckles before lowering his voice. "You are very devoted to him, are you not?"

"Oh, yes! Er, not as much as to you, of course," I hastily correct myself.

"Oh?" He presses his fingers to my chin and forces me to look at him again as he breaks into a playful smile. "Then perhaps you will have to demonstrate it to me." He looks out the window. "We have arrived. Nico, open the door, would you?"

I open the car door to a large building. Not quite a mansion, but a building almost the size of a Broadway theater that is somewhat secluded from the rest of the city. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Don Angelo speaking with one of the guards, but what he's saying is beyond me.

"Come, Nico," he calls out without turning to me. He leads me up a flight of stairs to his office. It's well-furnished, with a large leather armchair placed behind a mahogany desk. He sinks into the chair and places an elbow on an armrest, watching me with a cocked head as he places his other hand on his knee. "So, show me your devotion," he says to me. I walk in front of him and get onto one knee.

"Yes, sir," I say. I take his hand and kiss the back of it. He continues to watch me as he raises one of his feet and slowly presses it into my crotch.

"Is that as far as your devotion goes?" he teases. "For tonight, you may touch me as you like. There's no need to be afraid, Nico." I swallow nervously and nod as I stand up. I lower my head and kiss him on the cheek once before planting my lips on his. As I explore his mouth I can taste the lingering tobacco on his breath. After I take my shirt off I go to take his off, struggling to get both pieces off as they were clinging tightly to his physique. There's a moment where I take in his lightly-hirsute torso before I use my tongue to explore each crevice. He lets out a low rumble of pleasure as I work my way down.

As I start to undo Don Angelo's belt, he rises from the chair and leans against the edge of the table. I continue to disrobe him as I pull his pants down, revealing a large bulge straining to break free of the boxers it's trapped in. As I pull the boxers down, his cock springs out, 10 inches long and thick. A bead of precum is already forming from his cockslit. I lick it off and slowly lower my jaw to accommodate its entry. "Take it easy, Nico," he tells me. "Not many have been able to take all of it at once." I slowly cram the first 3 inches down my throat and begin to suck.

I gradually swallow more of his cock down my throat and pick up speed. The accents of salt become more pronounced on my tongue as I wrap it around the shaft. My jaw starts to ache, and I release it, slightly panting for air. "Relax," Don Angelo says to me. "Let's try this instead." He stands me up and gently pushes me onto the table faceup. He picks up my legs and rests them on his shoulders before grabbing his cock and rubbing it over my hole. "I'll go slow," he reassures me as he pushes lightly against my ass. I try and relax as much as I can, but as his head makes its way in I fail to hold back tears and a whimper of pain.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Don Angelo consoles me. He caresses my cheek as he inches further into me. He's about two-thirds of the way in when he stops. "I'm going to start moving now." He slowly withdraws his cock until only the head remains in me before plunging it back in. Gradually picking up speed, my whimpers graduate into moans as he eventually goes balls-deep into me, rubbing my prostate. "That's it, you're doing so well," he says between grunts. "Do you like it?"

"I feel so... good!" The last word comes out in a strained falsetto as one of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure up my spine and causes my eyes to roll back in ecstasy.

"Come here," Don Angelo says as he wedges his hands between my back and the desk. Taking his cue I reach up and wrap my hands around the back of his neck as he lifts me up. He palms my ass cheeks as he slides me down on his dick before lifting me back up with imperceptible effort, save for the sweat on both of our bodies.

After two minutes of nonstop fucking his breathing grows laboured. "Ah, Nico! I'm—" Before he can finish his sentence, he lets out a long, drawn-out moan as I feel his cock twitch inside me. His legs, as sturdy as tree trunks, begin to quiver and buckle as he falls back into the chair. As my body's weight slams onto his pelvis, his head jerks to look at me with a surprised look before it melts into fulfilled pleasure and lolls backwards, mouth slightly agape. His dick hasn't finished pulsing. Finally getting a break from all the sensations my body was experiencing, I let myself fall onto him, my cheek resting against his clavicle as I try to breathe normally.

A knock on the door brings me back to my senses, and as I try to get off Don Angelo's cock, I hear him say "Enter".

The door opens and I hear a familiar voice say "What the fuck?!" I turn to look and see Daniel, horrified at what he just witnessed. "Nico! You're fucking my father?!" I hurriedly scramble off and cover my semi-hardon.

"It's not what it looks like!" I say, despite fully knowing well that it is exactly what it looks like. Daniel angrily saunters in my direction, clearly with the intent to throttle me.

"Daniel!" barks Don Angelo. "That's enough!"

"You asked for me to come!" he yells, albeit a little more subdued. He turns his attention back on me. "Getting out of my sight wasn't enough?"

"Daniele!" Don Angelo's voice reverberates throughout the room. "Basta." He's gesturing somewhere between my legs. I look down and feel a tiny trickle of the boss' cum running down the inside of my left thigh. "È un regalo per te." Daniel drops his jaw. "Bevi," the boss commands. "Nico, turn around." As I comply, something strikes me as odd about Daniel: did his pants get tighter? Don Angelo has a wry smile on his face. "You don't need to worry about getting cleaned up just yet."

Puzzled, I ask, "What do you mean by—" my question goes unfinished as I feel something crawl up my leg. The sensation it produces is like a feather slowly and lighting going up my spine. Looking down I see the top of Daniel's head under my crotch. "Daniel, oh my—" I gasp as he spreads my cheeks and starts flicking my hole with his tongue.

"Let it out, Nico," Don Angelo tells me. "Slowly." I relax my sphincter. Daniel becomes more ravenous as he starts slurping up his father's cum. His mustache tickles me and I can feel my cock reaching full mast.

"Oh, I'm so close," I moan with a strained voice. The boss stands up and gently grabs my dick before stroking it.

"Do it," he whispers in my ear as I feel my impending orgasm reach the point of no return. My eyes roll back as I give in and surrender my body to total pleasure. I am vaguely aware that Don Angelo has one arm propped on my shoulder and Daniel continues lapping at whatever's left in me.

As I return to my senses I realise that I shot my load into Don Angelo's other hand. He raises it to my face. "Keep it in your mouth," he instructs as he empties the contents. "Now give it to Daniel." I turn to look at the boss' son, who's now on his knees, panting with flushed cheeks. There is a large stain on his crotch. I hover over his face and let my cum slide out of my mouth into his. He remains unresponsive. "Escort him to his room and get him in the shower, Nico," Don Angelo commands.

"Of course, sir," I reply. As I get one of Daniel's arms around my shoulder, I pause and say out loud to myself, "Did all that really just happen? Maybe I'm just dreaming."

"You do not need to worry about that, Nico," Don Angelo responds. "It was all on my orders." He walks over to a closet and pulls out a bathrobe. "After all...

"That's how mafia works"

[nisuna]

Edit: I have since posted the fic, check it out here!!

hi hello, so this isn't my official "comeback" yet as I'm currently sick in bed 😭 so this is just a little teaser and explanation of what I'm planning hehe

So I've had this idea for a long time, so long that it was the first fic I ever wanted to write down on this blog and the idea that motivated me to start writing in general, but things happened so yeah I'm only now finding the time to finally write for it

so basically, it's friends with benefits geto x f!reader, simple enough, right? Well, not quite (if you're not interested in too much detail, feel free to skip my rambling and scroll down for some excerpts and quotes 😘 they'll be below the cut)

It all happened one evening when your best friend came to pick you up from a party for the first time, being tipsy and sexually frustrated one thing led to another and you slept together and from then on it kind of became your guys' thing

Whenever you were out and didn't end up with someone, you called him and he actually came to pick you up

You've known each other for a few years but you just couldn't get yourself to call him Suguru, it's always Geto this Geto that, even tho he would really like you to just call him by his first name, but you're like no no no nonono I can't

And if that wasn't bad enough, your tipsy self always added -san, so it's Geto-san whenever he picks you up haha

You've done a lot already, anything dirty you could think of, been there done that, but no kissing bcs that's too intimate duh, like having a dick shoved so far up it's rearragning your guts isn't yeah yeah sweet denial

So this time there wasn't anything unusual about it, he picked you up like always and you were down to fuck so what's the worst that could happen?

he miiiighhtt make you call him by his first name and maybe just maybe you do finally kiss???!

I'm also down for maybe a prequel to the first time it happened?? 👀👀

But in any case, enjoy an excerpt from the beginning as well as some of my ideas and quotes I plan to include :D

He never understood why you liked going out to the most shabby and stuffed clubs. It reeked of alcohol and smoke mixed with all kinds of bodily fluids. As he was making his way through the dancing crowd of sweaty people grinding against each other, he finally found you sitting at the bar while some guy was leaning in your direction way too close for comfort.

He had his usual fit, hair half up with a black over sized sweater and loose black joggers. Making him look so huge that if there were any guys bothering you, they would leave you alone as soon as they saw him.

"Yo~ y/n", he touched your exposed shoulder and gave you his signature eye smile, before staring down the guy next to you that was trying to get in your pants or in this context in ypur skimpy little dress. The guys' annoyed look turned into a worried one after seeing who he was up against.

"Aahhh Geto-saannn you're here early" you mused, leaning against his hard chest. That damn honorific, he cursed but still managed to squeeze out a smile.

"Haha "-san", so you aren't her boyfriend then." the stranger snarled but soon gave up as Suguru raised an eyebrow at him and snapped a "watch it". "Alright, alright, I give up", he put his hands up in defeat. "Maybe next time, sweetcheeks."

As soon as the guy left Suguru took both of your hands in his and knelt down in front of you. "Y/n we've talked about this, if you don't want to call me Suguru at least drop the honorific. We've known each other for years now don't you think it's about time. Also, don't you think it's weird when you call the guy you fuck by his last name, hm?" He turned his head looking at you expectedly.

"But Geto-saaaan-"

"Ah ah, what did I just tell you"

"Okay okay, Geto" you huffed, "You know I'm not comfortable with that", you whined, squeezing his hands.

"I just want to hear you say it at least once. Say it and I'll fuck you real good tonight.", he smirked.

You considered it, after a hard week you really needed a good fuck. "Sugu-", is all you could manage before snapping your head away, "Nope can't do it."

He let his head drop with a loud sigh. "It's alright. It looks like I was just pushing my luck. C'mon, let's get you out of here." And with that, he rose back to his full height, grabbed your hand and pulled you from the bar stool. While making your way through the crowd and to his car, your thoughts kept wandering.

Suguru... that's such a pretty name.

----------

"What's up with you today? If you keep squeezing me that hard you might actually snap my dick off.", he chuckled. He's way to cocky. You have to do something about that.

"Have I ever told you how annoying you can be. If you don't stop talking, I think I might have to shut that mouth of yours up myself.", you whispered putting your hands on his cheeks and pulling his face close so that it was right in front of yours.

--------

"Is it okay? Does it hurt?"

"No, it feels really good. I can feel you all the way up here", you smiled, leaning back and tracing your fingers from your pubic bone to just over your belly button.

"Fuck, you can't just say those things out of the blue" he mumbled sitting up, finally starting to pound into you from below.

"Wow that did it, huh?" you chuckled arching your back and clawing at his shoulders. "How naive, men are so simple." you kept that thought to yourself tho.

----

"Wait", you mumbled against his lips. "Don't pull out. Keep fucking me. Hurry up." How could he say no to you, even if he felt like he was about to die from overstimulation, he couldn't possibly deny you.

-----

"Fuck, I'm hard again"

"Then keep going."

-----

Look forward to the whole thing as soon as I feel better🙈🙈🙈 and feel free to let me know what you think!❤️

[starlightsuffered]

That Damn Bassist (p1)

Warnings - asking for sex, thirsting, refusal for sex

I could not wait to see Cyanide Cylinders. It was my favorite band. Every record was a hit. I'd been to a concert on every tour they'd ever done. This was the Death Blood tour. I couldn't wait to hear their song "Lightening Eyes" in person!

I parked in the absolutely packed parking lot. I was headed towards the stadium when I heard my car alarm. I cursed life as I ran back. No note, a large dent, and a car speeding away. All I could glimpse of the driver was a hand tattoo of a dragon. I lifted my middle finger and decided to worry about it later.

Right now, all I wanted to focus on was the fact that I had V.I.P. Tickets to my favorite band. Calling that radio station was the best thing I'd ever done.

I finally got to my seats and waited patiently. When it started I was up and screaming. I was so close I could see the sweat on their foreheads.

There he was, Timothée, my favorite member, the bassist. His eyes were surrounded with thick eyeliner, his thin frame wore all black, and his dark hair had streaks of red in it. He was walking sex, the most attractive man I'd ever seen. Just watching his fingers move on the strings made me wet. Wait, what was that on his hand. He must've gotten a new tattoo because I knew all of his by heart.

When the concert was over, I was incredibly excited to go backstage. I was shaking with anticipation. As I was walking, I was yanked into a closet. I was face to face with Timothée. Up close his face was even more angelic. He was knee-weakening.

"Hey, so I think I hit your car in the lot," he said sheepishly. I grabbed his hand and observed the dragon tattoo.

"It was you! Do you know how much that's going to cost me?" I demanded.

"Well, I have a way to pay you back," he smirked. He was so hot it nearly hurt, too bad he was being an asshole. "I'll fuck you."

"What!?" I said in disbelief.

"Come on, don't you want it?" He asked, and began to kiss my neck.

"I, uh," I moaned.

"Good girl, no one has ever said no to me," he smirked into my neck. That flipped the switch for me.

"I'm good," I said pulling back. He looked like I'd slapped him. This was better in a way, this was a way to ensure he would never forget me. I was enthralled by the idea of him tossing and turning, laboring over the idea of me.

"I'll take the money," I held my hand out. He was glaring.

"Are you serious?" He snapped.

"Yep," I popped the P. He growled and stuffed some bills in my hand.

"This isn't over," he snarled before leaving.

[arcane-vagabond]

This request was inevitable, but can we see a Jake’s conversation with Mandy either the initial one where he calls things off or the one on the beach after Skipper leaves (I’m leaning towards the second one bc I love seeing him stand up for Skipper 🥺)

For you, my love? Anything 💛

Conversation One: Confronting Mandy the first time.

Jake bounced his leg nervously as he sat on the lone picnic table at the far edge of the pier. It wasn't that he wasn't sure about his decision, but he was more worried about what Mandy would do when she heard what he had to say.

"Alright, Jake. What did you want to talk to me about?"

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear, Jake thought with a smirk. He turned to see the brunette approach him, an unamused look on her face as she took him in.

He might have loved her at one point, but those days had long since passed. He thought back to his teens when he had first presented, so sure that he would spend the rest of his life with her. Their mothers had loved the idea, of course, having grown up as best friends themselves. Jake hadn't wanted to disappoint them, and so he had gone along with their idea, convincing himself that he could find happiness with Mandy.

But as the years stretched on, Jake found himself unable to believe the lies he had made for himself. He wasn't happy, and despite the idea of it being a perfect match, he couldn't bring himself to choose Mandy as his mate. A tiny voice inside him had always whispered at him to wait, that something good and pure was coming to him. And now he knew what, or who, it was.

"Well?" She snapped impatiently, crossing her arms as she glared at him. He took a deep breath.

"Mandy, it's over."

"What's over?" She asked him, annoyance palpable.

"Us. We're-we're done," he sighed, already feeling the weight lifting off of his shoulders. "I can't pretend that I'm happy anymore. It's not fair to either of us. You know it, and I know it. This wasn't meant to last."

"You're joking," Mandy laughed, eyebrows rising in disbelief. "Jake, you've tried this before and it didn't turn out the way you wanted, so why would this time be any different?"

"Because I found her, Mandy."

"Found who?"

"My mate," he murmured, his heart clenching at the word. He pictured your soft smile, the way your hands had gently picked up his gifts. "I found my true mate."

"Jake, be serious," she scowled. "True mates are as rare as they come, and you think that you of all people have found yours?"

Jake didn't say anything. He knew it sounded crazy. Hell, he hadn't quite believed it at first either, but he knew it was true. He felt it down to the very core of his being, and it scared him if he was being completely honest with himself. He hardly knew you, yet he was certain that he loved you. He loved you with everything he had, and he was determined to know why.

"Yes," he stated firmly, peering up at her. "She's mine, Mandy. You can't change fate."

"This isn't fate, Jake," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "This is you, finding something new, something you haven't had yet. I'll let you play around for now, but it's time to be serious. This will be your third frenzy, and you know what happens when you wait too long. Mine is coming next year."

Jake watched as she turned to walk away. She paused, looking over her shoulder at him.

"So, it's your choice," she smirked, a glint in her eye. "Will it be your frenzy or mine where we finally seal the deal?"

Conversation Two: Confronting Mandy on the beach.

Jake watched as you walked away, moving to chase after you, but Mandy stepped in his path. Her blue eyes swirled as they glowed with unbridled fury.

"Don't you dare," she hissed, pushing him back. He snarled at her, feeling his own rage boil to the surface at being kept away from you.

"Move," he growled, glaring down at her.

"That's not going to happen," she said, standing straighter, eyes narrowing up at him. "You marked her. You marked her and made me look like a fool."

"I can't make you look like a fool when there's nothing between us," he reasoned, and in a seemingly impossible feat, her expression managed to grow darker.

"You're mine, Jake Seresin," Mandy glowered. "You have been and always will be. You and I are the endgame, not some wannabe scientist."

"Mandy, we've talked about this-"

"Oh, get a grip, Jake!" she shrieked. "What am I going to have to do to get it through that thick head of yours that you and I are going to be mated? You can either get with the program now, or I can do something that'll help you get there."

Jake made to answer, but a song cut through the cool, summer breeze, one that Jake had never heard before.

It was a mating call, that much was certain, but Jake didn't recognize the voice. His brow furrowed as he listened, noting how the song sounded more bestial than usual. He made to move, but a hand on his chest stopped him.

"Leave it," Mandy growled, eyes intense as they looked at him. "It's not your concern."

Jake felt his skin crawl as the hand on his chest began to drift lower.

"Let me convince you of what it is you really want," she purred, leaning up to graze her lips against his. Jake felt like he was going to be sick as he pushed her away, Mandy stumbling back before regaining her balance. Jake was fairly certain his heart would have stopped right then and there if she possessed the ability to kill him with a look.

"I don't want you, Mandy," he scowled, pushing past her.

"We'll see about that," she murmured, eyes blazing. Jake paused, glancing back at her. "I'll make you understand what's going to happen."

"Skipper!"

Jake whirled around at the sound of your name being screamed by Nat, fear gripping at him with cold claws. He broke out into a sprint, leaving Mandy behind on the darkened beach, his only thoughts being to get to you before something happened.

[katthyacinth]

Little Sailors Have No Chance

Vox x Celeb/Singer Reader <3 Pt 4. pt 3 ... pt 5

In the span of 12 hours you had committed murder suicide with your abusive spouse, landed in hell where you were now a pretty fish demon, walked up to the biggest most important people in hells entertainment industry and landed a job on the spot...

Its only going to get crazier.

The TV head man had vanished into thin air after looking you up and down again to go deal with whoever "tore up velvets best model" that you were now replacing.

She had wasted no time using some sort of demon magic to change your clothes a dozen times and have some other demons do you're makeup. "well love you have been making quite a splash no pun intended and Im starting to see what the buzz is for. Stunning and you killed your husband? Truely a siren the name is brilliant luring poor sailor men to their death that blindly follow your charm, maybe that's what your fans should be called well, we'll talk all about a deal after the show." she blabs on as she adorns you with accessories and motions for you to spin, stand etc.

"Ok darlings" she calls out to the room. "its showtime!"

You will admit you've never walked a runway but you were going to do everything in your power to not make a fool of yourself. The lights and cameras and audience at least you were accustomed to. When you walked you saw that same man from earlier in the front row, with the TV head. When you stopped to pose at the front you saw him whisper something to another man next to him with sunglasses and a red-looking coat. You saw him smirk before you walked back behind the curtain. In the time the interns got you ready you had learned that the Vs on the building stood for the three owners of the cooperation. Velvet, Valentino, and Vox. You assumed the two men up front were Valentino and Vox since you remember seeing an ad or two with their faces on your walk toward the building.

After the show had concluded Velvet had pulled you aside.

" So little Siren, you've only been here a day and yet you've made quite a splash. Thats good thats-"

"good television" Out of thin air you watch little sparks materialize into the TV head man you saw earlier, Vox. He grins down at you sinisterly cutting Velvet off.

"You haven't made any deals yet doll so I take it you're free, for the taking, I mean why else would you wander up here." he grabs your chin making you look at him, inspecting you.

"Quit it Vox this is my deal, she wouldn't be good in your department anyway." Velvet glares at him.

"Chil Velv I'm here just for the entertainment and also to give our new guest a little present clearly she's lost she needs something familiar to her." Vox pulls a phone with a V logo on the back and hands it to you which you nervously take from him.

"I'm sorry what do you mean deal?" you ask nervously

"See what I mean poor things clueless," he states, you sense a mischievous undertone in his voice that makes you uneasy but ignore it.

"for your soul, duh kinda how hell works, you give me your soul you can work here and I'll give you fame and riches and protection for the angels yadda yadda and of course, you'll take it because we're like the best overlords in the pentagram" Velvet states.

You pause "Wait my soul? Isn't that movie shit you not serious right like so funny and also what the fuck is an overlord?"

Velvet twitches "You think I'm a joke princess? you gotta learn how stuff works around here quickly, it's kill or be killed when extermination comes around and if you wanna live best bet is with us and I don't make these offers often." she snarls.

"I'm not giving you my soul. It's kinda... my soul? you know when people say they sold their soul for fame or whatever I didn't sign up to do it literally. And I don't know what this extermination is but uh I'm already in hell I ain't trying to make it worse." you state backing up slightly.

Velvet gets back in your face even angrier as the TV man looks at you in slight shock.

"You're rejecting the Vs. That's priceless you know I would ask if you were born yesterday but technically you were so I'll give you some slack and not kill you but you're making a huge mistake." she grits her teeth

"I'll sign a normal contract. I know this is hell but... I'll sign a contract like the one I had above for my music label which is basically selling my soul." you chuckle at your own awkward joke. "I came here because I knew you guys must be the best in the industry so you're right leaving would be a huge mistake but I'm not offering my soul." you pause. "I won't give anyone any power over me like he had" you mumble under your breath.

Velvet scoffs annoyed pausing a moment. "fine one nonbinding soul contract coming up. But this means you may not work with any other companies any releases must be V approved, and you only endorse us, and you get fortune and protection. You're lucky you're famous and pretty." She grits her teeth. Pink magic emerges from her hands as she holds it out.

"Is it a deal?"

The Deal Is A Deal