#this prompt was not friendly to me but we did something that's what counts right

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR THINGS FRIENDS SAY TO EACH OTHER *  assorted dialogue for a multitude of friendly and platonic conversations and situations ranging from soft to dramatic, adjust as necessary

of course i love you. you're my best friend.

i really couldn't do this without you.

did you just call me your best friend?

that's what friends are for.

if you know me so well, what's my favorite color?

remember when they mistook us for siblings?

you're the only person i've ever trusted.

i know i can count on you for anything.

do you approve of them?

there's nothing i wouldn't do for you.

if something was wrong, i would tell you.

i can tell when you're lying.

okay, now tell me the truth this time.

i'm not leaving you behind.

i don't know what i'd do if i lost you.

let's not fight like that again.

i always knew you would accomplish amazing things.

that wasn't fair of me to say to you.

i'm sorry i upset you.

i know everything about you.

maybe we should go someplace fun.

will you be in my wedding?

we've been friends for years. you think i didn't know?

i figured you'd tell me when you were ready.

you called me your best friend.

if it matters that much to you, we'll do it.

i just want you to be happy above all else.

you deserve a whole lot better, you know.

i wish you could see yourself the way i see you.

you've always been there for me, no matter what.

i'd risk my life to save you.

we need a girls trip.

i know you better than you know yourself.

you don't think i can tell when you're lying?

you can't get anything past me.

as your best friend, i have to step in.

that's wrong, and you know it.

i love you, but not in that way.

we need to get out of here. just us.

you mean the world to me.

you deserve better than the way they treat you.

i think i have a right to express my honest opinion when it comes to my best friend.

the only way we survive this is if we work together.

you trust me, don't you?

we could sit for hours in silence, and i'd still love the time we spent together because it was with you.

i can tell you anything, and you won't judge me.

maybe we should take a trip together, just us.

i'm so happy for you and the life you've created.

you know me so well.

one day we'll end up in rocking chairs on a porch together, complaining about everything.

you're like a sister to me.

you're like a brother to me.

you're practically family at this point.

if you asked me to help you hide a body, i would.

no one messes with my best friend.

excuse me, but i'm your best friend. i think i have a right to know.

i've known you all my life.

i hate it when we fight.

[azzibuckets]

This is sort of a long and specific request but I just have this idea of an ansty fic idea for pazzi or reader.

azzi gets her wisdom teeth out and she’s like all loopy and when paige takes her home, they are all cuddled up. Azzi talks about the love of her life in third person and paige doesn’t realize it’s her until she does… but basically she’s like heartbroken until then.

loopy in love [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: i know i said i was taking a break from pazzi fics but god bless anon for giving me the best prompt i’ve ever read

word count: 1.5k

masterlist | part 2

“Make sure she takes acetaminophen or ibuprofen if she feels any pain,” the nurse instructed. “She can also sleep with an extra pillow tonight to support her neck and help circulate blood flow.”

“Alright, thank you. I’ll keep all that in mind,” Paige said gratefully. She looked over at Azzi, who was slumped in the chair. Her eyes were dazed and her cheeks swollen with numbing from anesthesia, but Paige’s heart warmed. Azzi had never looked cuter, she thought.

“I understand you guys are basketball players?” The nurse looked up from her clipboard of sheets with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. How long is she out for?”

“No strenuous activities for at least three days, and definitely no cardio for five. We don’t want any rebound swelling or bleeding,” the nurse explained. “Other than that, you just need to sign her release form, and then you guys are good to go.”

Paige nodded, accepting the paper the nurse handed her and starting to work her way down the page. The nurse walked over to Azzi. “Make sure to keep biting on the gauze, okay hon? Your girlfriend can help you replace it with a fresh one every 20 minutes.”

Paige’s head snapped up from reading the fine print. “Oh, uh, we’re not dating.”

The nurse looked taken aback. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I just assumed…” she stared uncomfortably between the two of them. Paige flushed, knowing that the way they’d entered the office a few hours earlier hadn’t exactly looked very friendly. Paige’s hands had been wrapped around Azzi’s waist as she’d whispered reassurances in her ear.

“No, it’s okay.” Paige scratched the back of neck. “We kinda get that a lot.”

The nurse nodded awkwardly before hurriedly making an excuse to leave the room. Azzi wrinkled her nose, eyes following her out. “Did she think I had a girlfriend?” she slurred.

“She thought we were dating,” Paige breathed out a laugh as she signed the form.

“Ew!” Azzi gagged on her saliva. “I’m sorry, but we could never be together.”

“Geez,” Paige muttered, trying not to let the younger girl’s words sting too much. “I didn’t think I was that that revolting.” Paige turned the form into the receptionist before helping Azzi out of her chair. “Up we go,” she said softly. Azzi stumbled, but tightened her grip on the blonde’s arm to keep steady.

In the car, Azzi stared moodily out the window. Paige chuckled; she’d expected for the anesthesia to make Azzi more quiet and subdued, even though a part of her had wanted a loopy and crazy Azzi to laugh at. “You okay?” she asked.

Azzi started sniffling, and that’s when big tears started rolling down her cheeks.

“Woah.” Paige almost braked the car. “Hey, Az, what’s up?”

“I miss her!” Azzi cried out, folding her arms like a grumpy toddler. “Everything hurts and I can’t feel my tongue and there’s blood and I just want her.”

Paige’s heart sunk. She knew she should be supporting Azzi right now, who was so out of it from the drugs, but she couldn’t help but welcome back the burn of jealousy she’d gotten so familiar with the past few years. Pining over your best friend in secret was not an easy thing, but it was something Paige had become awfully good at.

“Miss who, babe?” Paige asked gently. “I can call whoever you need.”

Azzi dramatically threw her head in her hands. “Nooooo!” she wailed. “You can’t. Or else she’ll know.”

Paige bit her lip. “Know what?”

“That I’m in love with her!”

Paige sucked in a breath. Lately Azzi had been acting distant, coming back to their apartment late at night and making excuses for missing their movie nights. Paige had had a creeping suspicion that Azzi was talking to someone new, had been spending her hours with a new girl or guy she’d met. She’d tried to respect it - she knew Azzi would come to her and tell her if the relationship ever evolved into something serious. She always did. And now here Azzi was, confessing in her stupefied state.

“You’re in love with someone?”

Azzi leaned her head gloomily against the window. “You don’t understand, Paige.”

Paige hesitated. “I understand. I’ve been in love before.”

“No,” Azzi insisted. “You don’t. You don’t understand.”

Paige laid her hand over Azzi’s in an attempt to pacify her. “It’s okay, Az,” she soothed. “We don’t have to talk about this right now. Let’s just get you home first, yeah?”

Azzi snatched her hand away. “Of course you don’t wanna talk about it,” she grumbled, shifting in her seat to move further from Paige.

Once they reached their apartment, Azzi seemed to be in a slightly better mood. “I’m hungry!” she exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind them, immediately making a beeline for the kitchen.

“Uh uh,” Paige denied, running so she could stand between Azzi and the cabinets. “You’re not allowed to eat anything for a few hours.”

Azzi pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. “Pleaseeeeeee?” she whined.

Paige stifled a laugh at how adorable the younger girl was being. “I’m sorry, but no,” she said firmly.

“Ugh!” Azzi aggressively brushed past Paige, knocking her shoulder as she stormed out of the kitchen. “You hate me.”

“Quite the opposite.” Paige followed Azzi as she flopped angrily down on the armchair. “Stay here, alright? Imma go get some pillows and blankets for you and we can watch a movie?”

Azzi didn’t respond, staring grumpily at the dark TV. Paige rushed to gather the softest and biggest blankets she could find. She cursed at herself for not setting up the couch earlier. Now Azzi had to sit there waiting for her. Once she got everything, she threw it on the couch and tried to make it the most comfortable, padded blanket and pillow ridden couch in the history of all couches. “Come on Azzi,” she encouraged in a sing song voice. “Sit on the couch. It’s super comfy.” She patted the couch.

“Will she be there?” Azzi asked hopefully.

“Be where?” Paige’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“On the couch. With me.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, trying to hold in her exasperation but failing mightily. “Are you talking about that girl again?”

“Yes,” Azzi breathed out dreamily. “I think she’s it. She’s the one for me. I can’t stop thinking about her. Even before the surgery she was the last thing on my mind.”

Azzi sounded way too detailed right now to be talking randomly from being hopped up on drugs, which finally confirmed Paige’s suspicions. There had to be an actual girl that Azzi was talking about. She made a note to ask about it later, when the anesthesia wore off. Azzi had never spoken about anyone like this before, so this girl must be a big deal. A hot shot, Paige thought moodily to herself. But she’d support Azzi, like she always did whenever she started something new with someone. Don’t let her know, Paige reminded herself.

“So? Did you call her?” When Paige didn’t respond, too lost in her thoughts, Azzi’s bottom lip started to tremble. “You said you would!” Paige rushed to her, rubbing her back in the way she knew the dark haired girl liked.

“I don’t have her number, Az,” she said gently. “I’m sure we can get her to come over later, though.”

“She’s so pretty and she’s so kind,” Azzi said, now sobbing again. “I just want her here. Everything is always better when I’m with her.” She leaned into Paige’s embrace.

“Come on, Az, let’s sit on the couch, alright? Let’s put on a movie and you can try to sleep the anesthesia off,” Paige prodded. At last, Azzi got up from the armchair and sat reluctantly on the couch. Paige grabbed a blanket and wrapped it tightly around the younger girl. She made sure to stuff extra pillows under Azzi’s neck. “Comfy?”

Azzi nodded. Her tears weren’t flowing as heavily anymore, which Paige took as a good sign. “What do you wanna watch?”

Azzi perked up. “Cinderella.”

“Cinderella? When did you get into Disney?” Paige laughed, but she put it on.

Azzi nestled into Paige’s chest. “Cinderella looks like her,” she sighed happily. “Which is why I like it.”

Paige’s heart started beating rapidly. “What does she look like?” she asked slowly.

“She’s blonde. Has the bluest eyes ever,” Azzi murmured. “And she’s sooo good at basketball. You would love her.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek. Was this really happening? There was no way this girl Azzi was speaking of was her. She felt excitement rush through her, but she tried to tamp it down. She wasn’t the only blonde, blue-eyed basketball player in the world. Feeling slightly guilty that she was interrogating her best friend in this state, she asked, “What’s her name, Azzi?”

Azzi inserted her leg between Paige’s so that their bodies were now intertwined. “Why does it matter?” she muttered, her words muffled by Paige’s shirt.

Paige softly traced the parts in Azzi’s hair with her finger. “I’m just curious, babe.”

Azzi yawned, sleepiness taking over her. “I can tell you later. If you want. Maybe.”

“Oh, we are so talking about this later,” Paige said under her breath. But for now, she continued playing with Azzi’s hair as Cinderella played in the background, lulling the girl to sleep.

[strawbeerossi]

Take It

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unsub!Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer has plans of keeping your night going. Now it’s your turn to make it up to him.

Content/Warnings: Gagging, hair pulling, oral (m rec), face fucking

Word Count: 1.1K

Kinktober Day Twenty Two: Face Fucking

Part two to Day Twenty

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

“Why don’t we keep this going, hmm?”

You were unsure of what to say as you let your mouth fall open at the mere idea. Were you really about to go on with his sick delusions and games? It was difficult to say no, your pussy aching for more after the starter course that Spencer had given to you.

You didn’t get to answer as he helped lift you, only offering a grin as he was nudging you to get on your knees for him. “There we go. See, you’re such a good girl when you follow directions. I bet you’re dying to see my cock, aren’t you?” You didn’t want to say that you were but your head was nodding anyway, going against your wishes.

“I knew you’d be a whore.” He smirked, hand now gripping tightly to your chin as he was making you look him in the eye. The normal pretty honey colored eyes were blown out with lust, every friendly aspect behind those eyes long gone. This was how he wanted you, exposed and on your knees. He’d deal with your shirt later but right now, he was happy to see you on your knees, pussy juices surely running down your thighs from your climax earlier as well as the slick from arousal your body was supplying you with. As his hands were working to get his pants pulled down, Spencer had them down to his ankles as he was working on his boxers as well. Your eyes were widening the minute your eyes caught sight of his cock as it smacked against his stomach. You could feel drool running from your mouth, causing the male above you to chuckle. “Come on, feel free to touch. Good girls deserve it.” He winked, watching as your hand was hesitantly gripping the hardened shaft, hand slowly dragging along with it as your eyes were focused on him.

He was beautiful, hooded over eyes fixated on you as he let one hand move to grip your hair. “Come on. Don’t leave me waiting. I didn’t do that to you, did I?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. No, he didn’t. So you were diving in, tongue swiping over the thick tip of his cock while collecting a few beads of precum that were slipping from his slit. “Fuck. That’s it.” He urged her to continue, prompting her to let her lips wrap around the tip of his cock now. You took her time as you massaged the skin with your tongue, cheeks hollowing as you were suckling and just trying to enjoy your time while savoring the cock in you mouth.

Spencer wasn’t having that though.

Without warning, your head was pushing shoved down onto his cock, your hands quickly gripping his thighs for support as you gagged around the shaft in your mouth, not even fully taking him and already you were choking. He didn’t show you much courtesy, pulling you off briefly to let you breathe, watching the spit from his cock connect with your mouth from a long line of saliva. “Picture perfect. Fuck.” He growled, which wasn’t something you’d expected.

However, you weren’t given much time to say anything before you were shoved down on his cock again. This time though, he wasn’t as kind as he kept your head in place. “Come on. You can take it. I know you can. Breathe out of your nose.” He murmured, which you’d complied with that much, using your nose to breathe and try to relax your throat as his hand was using your hair to guide your movements.

As your head bobbed along his cock, your eyes were closing as your tongue was flat on the underside, tracing a vein stretching the throbbing shaft as he was using you as if you were a human fleshlight. His foot had moved between your thighs, chuckling. “Rub that needy cunt on my shoe, I can tell your clenching your thighs together.” He chuckled, lifting his foot up to bump against your clit as the electricity shot through your body.

While his cock was making a brutal assault on your throat, you were reduced to gags and whimpers as your hips rocked against the boots he had on. You were soaked and desperate for anything. However you knew that you had to play his game now. That’s the only way to get what you want in the end. “Fuck. How does it feel to be used? I bet you love it, don’t you? Choking on my cock gets that pretty pussy soaked, didn’t take you for a girl who likes to be roughed up but I’ll take what I can get for sure.” He chuckled darkly, watching as his cock disappeared down your throat as he was shoving your head down more.

At this point, your nose was brushing against his pubic bone as you were tearing up from having to swallow his full shaft, something you didn’t think was possible. It was pitiful how much you enjoyed this, how much you relished in the attention of a man who made it known he’d been stalking you. You should’ve called the police but instead you were sucking his cock while he was roughly thrusting into your mouth, surely bruising your throat in the process. There were no hopes of you being able to talk in a clear voice after this.

“I’m gonna cum.” Spencer’s breathing was shaky, his thrusts in your mouth growing sloppy as he was roughly tugging on your hair to elicit a moan to fall from your lips as your were digging into his shoe even more now, letting the laces of the boot rub against your desperate clit as your slick was coating the shoe. You were meeting his thrusts the best you could as you were bobbing your head, your goal to bring him to climax.

It wasn’t long until you were nearly choking as he was shooting his cum down your throat without warning, his hand shoving your head down more as he was emptying his heavy balls into your mouth and making you swallow everything. The warm cum had your body shivering, his foot eventually moving from between your legs and leaving you desperate as he pulled his cock out of your mouth.

“I can see why your ex came around a lot. Best throat and pussy I’ve ever came across. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” He sighed in content while resting his hand against your cheek. “Get up off the floor sweetness.” He instructed, making you quickly follow his orders. However, your heart shattered when he kissed your forehead. “I have to get going for the rest of the night. Heard my phone going off like crazy earlier, which means there’s a case.”

“You better be ready for me when I get back though. Cause I promise that pussy is mine and I intend on making it well known.”

[youaintnothinbuta]

Hello!!! I saw you wanted some sort of army Elvis prompt so I thought I'd send one through!!! Love your stuff by the way. Daddy!Elvis 🥺🥺🥺🥺 he's so cute!!

Ok...how about...Elvis is doing like a party (can be army Elvis or Vegas Elvis or anyone of his phases up to you!) and he and the reader have been together a while, but while they're catering...this one guy and old friend of Elvis's gets a bit TOO touchy feely with her, and takes advantage of her going around catering to people by asking for continuous drinks and stuff until he's drunk. When she tells Elvis he laughs it off the first time. But then when the drunk man gets angry with the reader for refusing to serve him any more drinks he gets a little 'too' angry for Daisy and does something (you can make up what) and then she tells Elvis when she pulls him aside in tears. And then he becomes super 'protective' Elvis....please? 🥺🥺

Hope this is ok!

❤️

“She’s being a real brat.” — Elvis Presley x reader

Omg thank you for replying n for the inspo ily!!! I hope this is okay 💗 I purposely didn’t mention a time so read it as any Elvis era you like

Summary: see request^^^

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x reader

Word count: 970

Warnings: fluff!! There is some unwelcome attention and arguing but Elvis looks after you <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Don’t forget, baby, we gotta bring all those chairs outside for everyone before people start arriving,” you reminded Elvis, as the two of you prepared for the party he was hosting.

“Oh, right, thank you honey.” He kissed the side of your head, heading outside to deal with that, while you unpacked the crackers and cheeses and alcohol, his chef preparing the actual food, of course.

That evening, once everyone started arriving, you and your husband made yourselves busy, making sure to greet everyone. As the evening wore on, you found yourself bustling around, making sure everyone’s drinks were topped up and their plates were full. Amidst the lively chatter and music, you were approached by an old friend of Elvis’, a guy you vaguely remembered from previous gatherings.

“There she is! What a stunner Elvis has got himself,” he complimented you as he took another full glass of champagne from your hand, though it didn’t really feel like a compliment.

With a polite smile, you acknowledged him. “Thank you. Yes, it has been a while.”

Initially, his conversation remained innocuous, but as the night progressed, his demeanor shifted. His touches lingered longer than was appropriate, his compliments veering into the realm of discomfort. You thought it was quite interesting too how he only became this way the moment your husband was out of sight.

“Why’s your mister letting you walk around like this? I can’t take my eyes off you,” he remarked, his gaze lingering a little too intently as he brushed his hand over your lower back.

“Thank you,” you replied, a nervous edge creeping into your voice. “I should attend to the drinks.”

Stepping away, you discreetly sought out Elvis, who was engaged in conversation with other guests.

“Elvis, could I speak with you for a moment?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to you, concern furrowing his brow. “Of course, what’s the matter?”

Hesitantly, you confided in him about the man’s unwelcome advances, hoping for some form of intervention.

“That guy, he’s been getting too familiar with me. I can’t even place a name to his face, I don’t even know him.” you pleaded quietly.

“Don’t stress, honey. He’s just being friendly,” he reassured, though his words did little to assuage your discomfort.

As the evening wore on, you went from feeling uneasy to borderline violated. The man, now visibly intoxicated, began demanding more drinks, despite his already inebriated state.

“Hey, sweetheart, another round over here!” he slurred, his voice growing increasingly belligerent.

“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve had enough,” you replied, trying to maintain composure despite the rising tension.

“Pardon?” He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

You knew he was trying to give you an opportunity to change your words, but you didn’t, repeating yourself. “You’ve had enough to drink.”

“Listen, little girl,” he plunked his empty glass down on a table, his words slurring.

He gave you a gross smile, curled his finger towards you in a come hither motion. As not to cause a scene in front of other guests, you listened to him, even if it was against your better judgment, and leaned in to him.

He positioned his face far too close to yours, startling you with a yell, “you don’t tell me when I’ve had enough. I’ll have as much as I damn well please!”

Your heart raced, and a sense of dread crept over you as his demeanor grew increasingly aggressive. Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to find safety in the presence of Elvis. How dare someone speak to you like that? Especially in your own home. You feel uncomfortable and unsafe, and you most certainly didn’t want him in your home anymore.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You were able to pretty quickly and easily pick Elvis out from the large amounts of people, tugging on his shirt to pull him aside.

“Baby, what happened?” Elvis asked, immediately clocking your glossy eyes. You began to recount what he had said to you.

“Elvis, he won’t leave me alone. He’s getting aggressive,” you implored, desperation colouring your words. Elvis’ expression hardened as he listened, his concern giving way to resolve.

Elvis approached the guy, who smile at him.

“Just the man I was looking for! Will you tell your girl to get me a drink, she’s being a real brat.”

“Listen to me, ain’t no one gonna talk to me like that, especially not about my wife,” Elvis asserted, his voice cutting through the noise of the party, “you need to leave.”

The man’s smile faltered, replaced by a look of defiance as he squared his shoulders, clearly intent on challenging Elvis’s authority. “Come on, buddy, don’t be like that,” he slurred, his words punctuated by the stench of alcohol on his breath.

Elvis’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin as he glared at the man. “I said leave,” he growled, his tone brooking no argument.

For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, tension high, then, with a defiant snort, the man turned on his heel, stumbling towards the door with unsteady steps. As soon as he was out of sight, Elvis turned back to you, his eyes softening with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice gentle as he reached out to cup your cheek.

“I am now.” You nodded.

“I’m sorry, I should have listened to you. Why don’t you hang around me for a while.”

“It’s okay,” you placed your hand over his that was on your cheek. He placed a kiss on your lips, before pulling you into him, dancing with you. You laughed at his spontaneity, as he spun you around, mouthing the words I love you. You replied the same way, as others around you cheered and danced, the party quickly picking back up.

[neetily]

Kinktober 2024 — Imaginary Best Friend Robin

— ✧ pairing: M!Robin / F!Reader — ✧ genre: smut 18+ — ✧ word count: 7,102 — ✧ warnings: dubcon, imaginary friend, manipulation, breakup, ex boyfriend (role-play), shapeshifting, creampie — ✧ synopsis: hey, i know that it's been a while since we hung out, but i miss you. and you've really left me no other choice at this point...

— ✧ A/N: ONCE AGAIN I APOLOGISE FOR BEING LATE. and i thank you all for your patience, again. the winter blues killed me, but i finally got through this and hope you all enjoy... even the robin haters that follow me x finally. kinktober has ended <3...

— ✧ kinktober masterlist

Existence comes to him suddenly and all at once, like an abrupt eruption spilling out from the recesses of your weary mind— and it’s immediately disorienting. The once dormant volcano of his life pulled into awakened with a promise, shifting under the oppressive weight and pressure that real life provides. It’s a bit jarring at first, as if being reborn into something new, someone new, prompting him into blinking a few times to rid the obscuring bright lights that intrude upon his fresh new mind for a moments breather. And it aches too, just a little, to greet the immediate upset that life has thrown at you; and by extension, himself. Seeping into his own body like it’s supposed to, because at the end of the day, he is you, isn’t he?

But as always, you remain blinding to him regardless. A stark contrast to his usual life in the dark, he cant help but to want to be more like you. Or, is it that he wants more of you? He never did answer that question in his loneliness.

A light in the pitch black, gentle hope where none is to ordinarily be found. It’s frustrating just how much he has to rely on you simply to exist, tugging on the edges of your mind every now and then to remind you of his simple validity, of his sole reason for living. But alas. It’s difficult not to dislike you, despite your abandonment… As if he was borne out of the self criticism you’ve given yourself over the years. A deeply burrowed yearning for something more, to become bigger and better than you’ve thus allowed him to be.

And he’s been waiting for an opportunity like this for years. Seething to himself in silence when you’d all but forgotten about him. And now that you need some help, you come seeking him? Out of everybody you could have reached out to, no one does it better than him, right?

Well, he’s not about to let you squander this prime opportunity by pushing back against him again. Not this time, not ever again.

Silence fills the empty space left between himself and you, or you and himself— it’s hard to discern where he begins and you end when you’re one in the same and he hasn’t been allowed to stretch his limbs for himself in what feels like an eternity. He knows that he needn’t use verbal speech to communicate with you, what with the fact that he usually resides within your mind space anyway and can talk just fine through thoughts alone. But tonight feels like a special occasion, doesn’t it? A shared understand of something brewing deep beneath the surface, a sharp edge to what once was soft eyes and childish giggles.

He’s grow up right alongside you too, y’know.

“Hi.” He eventually smiles, deceptively warm in his wanting to appear still yet friendly, even after your adulthood abandonment. Couldn’t stay away from him for too long, could you? Not when life has got you down, and nobody else is willing to stand up for you except your long time best friend Robin. As it always has been, and should be, as far as he’s concerned. “Long time no see.”

Silence once again occupies the room, and he takes the brief moment to focus in on all of the changes you’ve made since he was last perched upon your bed like this, since it’s been so long. All the new decorations, posters, trinkets, everything new that you’ve accumulated during his forceful absence… And, the new sheets that you’re currently balled up into are pretty too, like they’d protect you from all the bad in the world.

Silly, that’s what he’s for, right?

But when you fail to come out from hiding, no doubt afraid of the sudden deeper voice booming in your small private space, he lets out a friendly enough chuckle as a means to disarm you. Something endearing, something that’ll clue you in to exactly who he is so as to not scare you any further. Because he’d never truly wish to terrify you, even if he thinks you’re just so cute when asking him for help.

“You’ve changed a lot…” he trails off in genuine thought, humming to himself at the sight of all the new colours and textures and smells that surround him. “F-for the better, I mean!” he’s quick to reassure you, stuttering over his own words through how little his voice has been in use as of late, coughing to clear his nervousness when he feels your weight shift from under those safety blankets. Just a small shuffle, uncertainty present in the way you still yet remain hidden from his eager eyes.

C’mon, it’s been so long… Lemme see yo. Didn’t you wanna see me? Isn’t that the sole reason I’m here? C’mon, just a little more, promise to play nice…

Unsure of how long he’s got in your presence before you decide to shut him out for good again, or until you decide you need a well rested break with your good pal Robin, he decides to continue the conversation with or without you. Sighing briefly to himself to relieve some built up tension before tugging on your sheets absentmindedly. He can feel how nervous you are to meet him again— perhaps a little guilty too, right?

“Don’t you recognise me?”

There’s a twinge of pain to his words, hidden amongst the giddy excitement that’s difficult to quell upon seeing his bestie after such a long and lonely break. You did miss him, right? Though surely not as much as he missed you, evident from the way he practically shakes before you, unable to fully hide his true intentions despite the playful sadness that taints his voice. Its just that it’s been so long since he last saw you, and at the end of the day, he can do naught else but be thankful for the sole reason behind his existence.

It’s so good to see you again, even if you’re acting rather shy. He’s always been the best at entertaining you, especially throughout childhood when you had no one else to call friend.

And he deserves a little more respect for spending all that time in isolation, don’t you think?

“It’s me,” he tries again, smiling kindly through his words though you may not see it— it just comes so naturally to him regarding you. The niceties and hesitation. “We used to play together all the time, remember?” Emphasis on the all, because God… not a day went by when you were younger that he wasn’t by your side, too. Experiencing life with you, helping you through rough and tough times, and celebrating its victories right alongside you. There’s simply no way you could have truly forgotten all about him… right?

Of course not. Because all it takes is a brief pause, a shared held breath of confusion and interest all in the same, for you to realise your mistake and greet your old friend in kind with a rather small sounding little “… Robin?”

It’s enough, he thinks to himself. Affection welling in his heart at the meek tone you adopt, the sound of his name falling from your pretty hidden lips prompting his grin to widen and hurt his cheeks. Your uncertain nature is familiar to him, a home comfort after so long apart. You always were a shy little thing, which is why you likely made him in the first place.

“Yeah, yeah! It’s me, don’t you wanna play again? That’s why I’m here, right?”

He can sense your apprehension, though he’s not sure if it’s borne mostly out of fear from having him manifest by your side like how he used to when you were a kid, or because you feel unable to let go of things now that you’re older. As if you shouldn’t be relying on him so much, when that’s quite literally all he was borne to do. And, quite frankly, it’s all he ever wants to do— maybe even a little more, now that he’s as old as you are now. He can do so much more for you, if only you’d reach out for him more often.

He wonders if you think he’s grown up well too. Take a peek.

He doesn’t want to scare you off too much though, not yet… you’re still a little vulnerable, he understands. If you weren’t, he wouldn’t have suddenly re-appeared in your life, right? He’s gotta take his time, treat you with patience and care; right before taking exactly what he wants, that is.

So, ever so softly, he tuts down at you with loving intent. A gentle sound meant to coax you out, as you have so tenderly done so with him. Even his voice, after he takes a moment to allow you space, is as soft as ever. A taunt, maybe.

“Dont’cha wanna come out of hiding?” he prompts you, poking the lump under your sheets as lightly as he can, but he can’t stifle the light giggle that escapes him when you stiffen up in response. “I only wanna help you, promise…”

That’s it, just a small amount of manipulation, enough to have you wiggling under the sheets some more only to poke your head out from under them. And oh, what a pretty sight that immediately greets him, his chest instantly tightening with the grip you have on him— you’ve grown up very well, he suddenly decides. His heart racing at the mere sneak peek you’ve allowed him thus far, like he was a little kid all over again. He knew that all this waiting around in the dark abyss of your mind would be worth something, and he’s happy to see that he was right upon viewing your pretty face again.

Perhaps too much so, given the way he has to move around to hide his ill-intentioned love. Tugging on his jumper idly to obfuscate between his legs from your view.

“I— I mean… It’s been so long…” you almost whimper, like you’re afraid to admit your neglect so openly and honestly. Though there’s really no need, he’s here now, and that’s what matters most, right?

“It has been a while, huh?” he smiles down at you, a genuine show of his joy from finally, after all those long years alone, getting to see you and hear you again. He’s fucking missed you, and it suddenly hits him all at once as a lump grows big in his throat. Of which he does his best to swallow, for there are far more important matters to attend to tonight that don’t include bawling his eyes out in sheer bliss from being by your side again. There’s gonna be time to sob and reminisce together soon enough— but he wants to have his fun tonight. “I think we both look a bit different since we last hung out…” he inspects himself with curiosity, “D’ya think you could come out a little more? Wanna greet my old friend right!”

There’s no guilt to be had in sweet talking you out like this, because you always were a shy one. You’d get nowhere in life if not for a little prodding! So you should be thankful that he’s back again, ready to give you the little shove you need to fall off the ledge and onto his lap.

Eventually.

He wants to ease you into him again, warm you up a little, as it were. Disallowing you the opportunity to respond to his teasing by talking before you get the chance to reply, distracting you with meaningless small talk as he grows closer to your huddled form one slow inch at a time.

“Oh! Do you still have that console we use to game on all the time? I don’t remember the last time I played with you…” he trails off in thought, doing his best to recollect exactly when the last time you called upon him for some late night gaming together, and yet all he turns up is empty.

And you seem to pick up on his frustrated state, letting the sheets fall from your pretty body with a pitying gasp. “Robin,” you regard him with utter sympathy, showing your soft underside to his wanting teeth. “I’m— God, I’m so sorry— Y’know, that I, uh… I mean, it’s good to see you again, and…”

Bingo. Got you right where he wants you, pliant and begging for his forgiveness. It’s when you’re most malleable— no one knows you better than yourself, or in this case, himself, and so it’s easy to play your own worst qualities against you when you’re such a soft little idiot. Because he has all those issues too; he’s just spent enough time in solitary confinement to learn how to quell the need to please most of all.

And yet still, he yearns to earn your affections. Tutting down at you softly, as if consoling a child. Dirty words clinging to the tip of his tongue that he sucks back against his teeth, unable to meet your gaze the whole way as his eyes flutter shut to the sight of your furrowed brows and clutching bed sheet fists. You’re cute. Too cute for your own good, really.

Maybe the time spent away from you was necessary after all, allowing him ample opportunity to grow strong against your charms in the meantime.

“Shh, shh,” he hushes you gently, cooing towards you as he shuffles closer still, until his face is right before your own and he can press his forehead against your own in a loving gesture of trust. A misplaced gesture, but an attempt nonetheless to save face before he follows through on his long time coming plans for you. He’s been patient thus far, so he sure he can hold off for a little longer— in spite of the way his pants grow tighter the longer you pout up at him so prettily, fuck. Like you’re doing it on purpose, right? “It’s okay, promise,” he lets his breath fan across your face, hot and heavy to serve as a reminder that he’s very much real and alive and right next to you right now, lest you forget the very real threat he currently presents. That, and it’s exciting, is it not? To finally meet again after all those long years… “I’m glad you were doing well enough to not need me, if anything!”

Because he only shows up when you truly need him, right? When you’re all alone, lost and confused in the big scary world known as reality. At least you know that he will always be right there and waiting patiently for you to rely on him again, your best friend since childhood, right?

Though, when he picks up on the fact that you’re not so convinced of his genuine feelings for you, and that he’d never want you to feel sorry for him under any circumstances, he takes the opportunity to butter you up some more. Just a little foreplay before the main event, nursing his growing erection by pulling your dropped bed sheets over his own lap so that he has selfish access to more of your grown up body. Pretty and grown— just like him, right? Maybe that little shy eyelash flutter you send his way is the sudden realisation that he’s not some young boy anymore either, no more a child than you are in this moment. And he’s awfully close to you just now, isn’t he? Flustering you up with his sweet words and kind gestures…

“Now c’mon, less of the pity party and more of the telling me what’s wrong. It’s why I’m here, right?” He offers you, cupping your cheeks in his warm hands so as to steal your undivided attention with a soft, albeit cheeky, smile. Because he knows exactly what he’s doing to you right now, and he needn’t notice the slight pink that now taints your cheeks to intrinsically understand that he’s getting under your skin. Almost as if… you can tell that he wants you, without him needing to explicitly state as much.

Which would make sense, given that he only exists as an extension of yourself. But this song and dance is fun in its own right too, a game of cat and mouse. Cops and robbers. He wonders who will break first.

And he prays that it’ll be you.

Just a little more prompting, and he’s sure your nervous shakes will stop. Removing his forehead from your own just to drink up the sight of the unsure expression your wear when regarding him, lips slightly apart as if you want to admit truth to him, but have yet to let your defences down enough to allow him entry. That’s okay, he’ll worm his way inside soon enough. And besides, you look real fucking pretty when staring back at him with such a dumb expression.

“Y’know,” he releases his hold of your cheeks too, instead allowing one hand to rest on your thigh and the other to travel feather light up and down your exposed arm. It’s the little things, at the end of the day, that’ll have your legs opening for him. And he’s nothing if not thorough in his understanding of your wants, wishes, and needs. And what you need right now is him, correct? “You can always open up to me whenever— no judgement! I’m your best friend after all.” He’s kind enough to remind you, smiling through the thinly veiled manipulation as his touch prompts you into shivering against his fingertips, something that he wholly welcomes with open arms, because he knows that his sweetening up of you is working. Soon, he’ll have you right where he wants you, and—

You interrupt his train of thought with a heavy sigh. Deep and slow, as if steadying yourself for something. And he briefly wonders if you’ve caught on to his true intentions, but the way you nervously look around the room before biting down on your bottom lip tells him otherwise.

You’re nervous. Not because of him, not with the way you melt into his warm touch, right? No, it’s because—

“We broke up.”

Riiiiiight, you were seeing someone new, weren’t you? He can’t quite recall just how long ago, or what he looked like, or what his name was. Something... blonde, right? More bite than bark, but definitely a lot of bark, too. He has vague memories of disliking him, pounding against the edges of your mind to be let free, to show you exactly how you deserve to be treated, and yet… well, he’s just glad that you’re all alone now. Caught under the covers with that pretty puppy look you wear oh so well, begging for him. Not your ex, or any other random man he’s sure you could pull from the streets— but him. His forgiveness and help, yeah? Oh, you poor thing… your ex must have really gotten under your skin to leave you resorting to him now, pawing eagerly at your old best friend for some well worn comfort in such trying times.

But Robin can hardly blame the guy for ruining you. He’d like to do the same, ultimately. And he’s about to, after a little more consoling. Gotta get you in the right mindset for it, warm you up to his needy touch and leering eyes before finally taking what he rightfully deserves. Keeping his touch as light as possible on your shivering skin, if only to allow you the space to continue opening up to him.

It’s for your own good, he muses to himself.

“It, uh… Yeah, it’s been weighing on me, I think…” you mutter, mumbling to yourself at the end as if you were ashamed of how much some idiot has you feeling down, but this is a reason to celebrate, no? Now you should have no qualms with his advances, a sly smile tugging on his lips at the sound of your misfortune.

“Ah,” he hums down at you in faux thought, taking a moment or two not because he has to be careful with his words, but instead to show you a false sense of care. An attempt to hide just how thankful he is to learn of your troubles, when he really can’t think of anything better right now. “I see… So, you need some cheering up?” He prompts you, dropping both his hands down to your thighs with a soft squeeze, and the way you jolt a little in response does nothing to dissuade him. If anything, it only strengthens his resolve to softly open you from the inside out. Leave his hands marked over every inch of you so that you can never forget about him ever again, letting his nails bite into you just a little, the smallest amount, as a silent threat. A dare, even. Dare you to try and leave me again.

“R-right…” you stutter, and he can hear the physical gulp you make when he meets your gaze with a smitten smile. That’s it, he thinks to himself. That’s all the consent he needs, really. Just a spark, because he knows you so well, doesn’t he? The best, even. A conjuration of your own imagination, only now in the flesh. Touching you, letting his hands roam up and down from your knee to almost your inner thigh— he hasn’t crossed the unspoken boundary yet, has he?

“Just, um… Robin—” you whisper his name, and he can’t wait to hear it falling from your lips later tonight. Hopefully louder, and more fraught with need, as opposed to with confusion and worry.

“Yes?” He replies simply, far more focused on how soft and squishy your thighs feel under his lecherous touch, biting down on his tongue to withhold the sinful compliments he wants to spill, because he doesn’t want to scare you off when he’s already came this far.

“Could— can you maybe wait a bit?”

“For what?”

“Um…” he knows exactly what you want to ask for, but he’s not gonna feed you the answers on a silver platter. Cocking an eyebrow up at you when you struggle to get your words out, making it ever difficult for you as his hands finally settle on your inner thighs and you’re forced into squeaking in response. “T—This,” you motion to your thighs, tenderly covering his hands with your own in such an affectionate manner that he can’t help but to gasp in response, you fucking tease. “Can we, uh…”

“Look,” he steals the moment away from you, pouncing on your inability to stand up for yourself—just look at your ex boyfriend, God—taking the opportunity to force himself further against you. Enough to have your body leaning back against the bed headboard with his hands nestled neatly at either side of your lap. He has to stretch some to properly hover over you, but it’s so worth it given the way you stare back at him all dewy and doe eyed. His tone is low and rough when he speaks, “I just wanna make you feel better. Look after an old friend, right?” He nods down at you, insinuating something he’s sure is clear on your mind when your lip wobbles in response, and yet still, you hesitate. And for as frustrating as it is to see you so unsure of yourself, of him, he can’t deny that it’s exciting to chase after you like this. Mimicking your pretty pout when you mull over his words silently, huffing and puffing to yourself as if it were even a question.

It wasn’t, by the way. You don’t have a choice in this matter, silly little lamb. It was your mistake to seek his help again. Your mistake to leave him unattended for so long.

It’s not up to you to decide how he helps you now.

“That’s all, promise.” He does his best to reassure you, but the twitch in his pants at the mere position he’s in betrays him. If you can even see it, that is. Cock angled down towards your cunt as your gaze struggles to remain on his own, wandering around your room as if doing so would somehow help you escape, or make him disappear.

But he’d never leave a poor friend in need! No, you taught him so much better than that! Squeezing at your thigh a few more times before lowering his head to rest in the crook of your neck for a deep, selfish inhale of your scent. Something he’d innocently wanted to do just to sniff how much you’ve grown, but it only serves to have him gasping for air and his eyes rolling to the back of his skull once your smell engulfs him whole and he realises just how close he is to obtaining everything he’s ever wanted.

“Thanks.” He whispers genuinely against the shell of your ear, making sure his hot breath makes you all hot and bothered with a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

And he means it, even as you further freeze when he pulls back only to  ‘accidentally’ reveal his erection— it’s getting there, he has the urge to promise you. But nonetheless allows you to sit in stunned silence to gawk at the childhood friend he’s now become. All grown up, resembling more of a man than you’re used to, right?

He’s mid way through taking his shirt off for your viewing pleasure before you find the strength to speak up, and he smiles to himself at the worried tone you carry with your words. Too cute for your own good.

“Is… Do you really think this is a good idea, Robin?”

Oh, you sweet little thing… In some respects, he can understand your ex for toying with you. Playing with such naivety sure is a lot of fun. And the sheer innocence of it all, of the way you’re acting in particular, like you’d expected him to remain the same way he always was when you left him, has him gagging for it. A tight ball curled up in his tummy, a closed throat begging to relay filth. He wants for nothing more than to steal your innocence away, keep it all for himself forever and ever.

Which is why he simply nods down at you, slow and assured, letting out a quiet little mhm before throwing his shirt to the side to hook his thumb under his bottoms idly.

“Can think of nothing better, really,” he answers honestly, through all of the lies and manipulation it’s taken to get here, he’s not about to just leave himself all high and dry simply because you’re feeling unsure. After all, he’s just as much you and you are yourself, and he figures that’s gotta count for at least something. He knows what you like, what you really want, deep down in the pit of your stomach— the things you’re afraid to admit in the mirror. “C’mon, you too.” He prompts urgently, doing his best not to rush you per se, but the thick throb of his cock urges him to continue. Push past your insecurities for the greater good.

He only wants to selfishly make you feel all better again…

When you make no attempt to move and do as he says, he carefully hooks his hands under your shirt to tug it upwards, selectively ignoring your sputters and mumbles because you practically allow him to undress you without much complaint anyway. You always were a meek little pushover, and he’s all too happy to exploit it for his own benefits.

That being the sight of your tits—though still hidden behind your bra—they’re so pretty. Nice and full; he can’t stop himself from tenderly reaching out to give em a quick squeeze to test their softness. And the resulting huff of air you let out has his head spinning, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in horny frustration for how cute you are. Well worth the wait, he instantly decides. Letting his thumb dig under your bra strap enough for it to fall to your side, tickling his way to around your back to one hand unhook the garment with a loving sigh.

He doesn’t mean to move so fast, but the flood is coming, and he’s incapable of stopping it all by himself.

His voice comes out a little raspy when he compliments you, a hushed “Gorgeous…” escaping him at the mere sight of your tits, exhaling heavily when he rolls a nipple between his thumb and finger, and you instinctively arch into his perverted touch. Like your body knows that you want him too, right? Deep down, you yearn just as much as he does.

Evident from the fact that he’s currently undressing completely before you because he doesn’t know how to hold back or wait, stepped off the bed for just a moment to expose himself, cocky confidence present in the way he easily slips back between your legs once naked to toy with the edge of your bottoms absently.

“Robin, I—” your stutters interrupt his self indulgence, but he gives you his full attention anyway. Because he truly does love you, yknow. Would give you the world if he could— hell, he might as well craft you one right here, right? “I’m not so sure if— if this is a good, um… good idea, yknow?”

“Baby…” he coos, rubbing soothing circles against your hips before slowly dragging your bottoms off anyway, keeping them in the same pile of all the other discarded clothing items. “Is it because you’d rather it was someone else?” head tilted to the side with his question, he figured you might need something like this to feel a little more comfortable the first few times he fucks you, so he doesn’t mind accommodating you in the meantime.

You will wish it to be him eventually though, he’s sure of it.

The benefits of being your imaginary friend, located deep in your mind space, is that he can mold this world to his liking— and that includes himself. Waiting for you to blink before switching to the spitting image of your ex boyfriend, cock and all. Reaching down to wag it against your front, a quick few taps against your exposed slit with a sharp intake of air. Though it’s his first time feeling your wet little cunt riding against the tip of his cock, maybe you’ll get on better with the thought of your ex coming back to reconcile with you, yeah?

“Look,” he begs of you, voice a tinge deeper, darker, maybe. One that commands your attention with a low tut— he’ll have you reacting that way to his own voice soon enough, he promises you. “I can be anyone you want me to be,” he sighs softly, forcefully dragging his cock down and pushing it back up with his hand wrapped tight around the base of it, his head hanging low at just how good you feel already for him, slicking him up so well now that he’s pretending to be your ex lover— you fucking loser. “All you gotta do is ask, I can do anything for you in here, just—”

He’s not sure what he wants to say next, stunned into silence given the look of absolute worry you wear when he takes a glance at your pretty face. It has him promptly catching his tip onto your entrance on instinct alone, letting out the softest little moan at the way you instantly twitch for more around him— so you do want him. Or is it because you wanna fuck through the left over feelings from your ex?

Either way, he’s not complaining. He could never, especially not given the way you automatically cling to him, shivering like you were cold despite the warm heat that not only engulfs him, but also from how hot and heavy his cock feels as he pushes inside. No time to wait, God, hasn’t he waited long enough? Holding on to a shared breath for just a moment or two, fucking little humps in and out of you to wet his whole cock sticky until he’s able to rest balls deep in your tight little hole and he can finally exhale.

He just— he doesn’t— God, he’s been waiting so fucking long to feel this exact wetness. Dripping all over him, tightening and constricting his movement to small ins and outs; he doesn’t ever wanna fully leave your hole ever again. Just wants to make you feel good, yeah? Be whoever you need or want him to be. Have you solely rely on him for eternity.

That’s what best friends are for.

For pinning you down by your hips so that he has enough leverage to draw his hips back just enough to leave his tip inside, the resulting tight suck of your cunt just begging to keep your ex’s cock throbbing against your walls is almost too much to bear, his heart stuttering through a few beats when you pout so prettily up at him as if he was being unfair.

When really, you’re the one treating him so unfairly, silly!

Squeezing his tip so well, leaving him struggling for air as he huffs out in an attempt to lift that fuckers blonde bangs out of the way— solely so that he may appreciate how cute you look when he steals you from the inside out. Literally and figuratively, holding you hostage within your own mind so as to have his way with you, and some fun too while he’s at it. He’s got no choice but to slowly roll his hips back into you, a slow in and out for you to once again grow accustomed to the cock that’s been fucking you for a while now—he’s sure not to go too fast, not until he’s able to fuck his own cock inside of you, his own shape—with gentle moans slipping past his tongue in sheer awe of how perfect you feel. Like he always knew you would feel, honestly.

Growing up with you, he’s been privy to details others might not have been. Like the best ways to touch yourself, or what sort of kinks you’ve got, and how much you want. Always wanting, aren’t you? And he’s so willing to give it all to you and more, fuck, you can’t even begin to understand just how badly he wants nothing more than you. You, you, you, babbling something on the end of his cock as he riles himself up into picking up speed, just a little bit— enough to have you once again arching up into him, or into your ex? Fuck, he doesn’t care anymore. Can’t, really, when you sound so fucking sweet under him like that, choking on your words in a mix of pleasure and confusion. You’re so pretty when you’re being so malleable, lulling into his lap as he thrusts in and out exactly how you like.

You’re so easy to use. It’s no wonder you were so easy to abuse, too.

All of his praise gets all choked up when he hears the bed squeak from under him, shaking under the heavy weight of his deliberate thrusts. His convincing fucks, attempting to win you over in spite of his outward appearance— doesn’t he fuck better than him? Better than anyone ever will, hovering above you to make sure you can’t escape his grip, nor his leering gaze, and especially not his throbbing cock. All veiny and fat, pumping at such a rhythm to leave you in a silent plea for more, he assumes. And you’re just gushing around him too, clawing at his arms for any semblance of purchase— or are you trying to push him away? A sly smile appearing on his lips to contrast your open mouthed whines; try as you might, he’s not letting you go for a fucking second.

You just feel too good to stop, really. What was once a perverted dream has now became reality, and he’s physically forced into humping your shape into the sheets below with sheer need, like it’s intrinsic to him to be on top of you, balls slapping against your backside, inevitably fucking you up the bed a little from how eager his thrusts are. “Can’t stop—” he eventually apologises, though it’s not a real sorry from the get go. A platitude at most, because he’d never be sorry about making you sound so pretty, all high pitched and greedy, body begging him for more given the way your hole practically sucks him off with slick. How it drools out of you, his own precum spilling around his fat intrusion and down into a puddle to stain your sheets as a reminder of his affections.

Look, it begs, how well I fuck you.

“Feeling good?” he taunts you from above, in a voice not of his own, but the manner. The attitude of it, shared only amongst the bestest of friends. Communicating I told you so in one raise of his brow, though short lived as it may be due to how much he struggles to keep up with himself. Fucking himself stupid, because he can’t control his actions, because he’s finally gotten everything he’s ever wanted, and he wants more.

So he paws at your tits too, rough and unruly with his tough. Perhaps a little influence from his shapeshifting into your ex? Oh how he used to hurt you, right? And Robin wouldn’t want to do that to you, not on purpose anyway. And yet still, he pinches at your nipples unfairly so, just to hear you make those squeaky cries for a break again and again, the feeling of your nails digging into his tensed up arms is so nice too, especially when paired with the way your lashes flutter shut in pure bliss. God, he knows he must be right. Can feel the way your legs obviously shake behind him, and the way your cunt quivers around his cock, and how you can’t get a single straight forward sentence out, and—

“Wait!” you yelp, both pained and unwilling, an impulsive thought turned verbal. C’mon, you don’t really want him to stop, do you? You’re so close! His free hand snaking between where his cock pumps you full to rub generous circles around your clit for a little more convincing, promising to help you feel better than you’ve felt in weeks since the breakup, if only you’d give in just a little more—

“Wanna feel it,” he selfishly admits, drooling over the way you writhe and tremble under him; you’re so hot when you’re trying to hold back, y’know that? That cute little scrunched up face you wear has his cock twitching some more, balls taut at the sight of your tightly closed fists barely knocking against his chest. You’re real cute for thinking you’ve got a chance. So cute, fuck, he loves you so much that he can barely stand to make you wait any longer, pressing tighter circles against your sensitive clit, a little sloppy and a little messy because he knows you like it that way, and you can’t fucking escape his seedy touch, fucking into you more fervently now the closer you get, and he grabs and tugs at your tits more as a means to stay grounded, but it helps that the action has you moaning even louder than before, and “Give it t’me, please—” he ends up begging, whining himself from how absurdly good your fighting back has him feeling.

And he wanted to last longer, in truth. But he’s happy to have at least lasted long enough to feel you cream his cock as he shoots the fattest load of his life deep into your pretty cunt. All puffy and red, he pulls your lips aside to get a better look at how well you take his cum, how it oozes out of you from the copious amounts of it, and how fucking pretty the sight is to behold. Humping into you just a little more to fuck you through your orgasm, as thanks for how breathless he is during his own, before falling over you to encase you in his own heat as the lack of concentration causes him to return to his normal self. Plain old Robin, heaving against your equally panting chest as a stark reminder of exactly who just made you feel so good, who still has you yet trembling and whining idly as he allows you space to come down from your high.

It’s hard to deny you feel better, he bets.

And it’s not long before he peppers your forehead in many little kisses as you lay dazed with this stupid look on your face that he just adores so much. Can’t contain himself, affection dripping from every quick lipped kiss pressed against every inch of your face that he can reach and then some, finally settling on your lips to which he’s unbothered about the fact that you don’t reciprocate in kind— you’ve just came. He understands the need to go slow, and he’s got all the time in the world to give you as much as you need.

Because this is it, he muses to himself. Here, with you under him and in his arms, dizzy and exhausted from getting fucked as good as he can give, this is it. Light laughter crawling up his throat for him to cough away— “You’re amazing,” he praises you honestly, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before exhaling contentedly, repositioning your relaxed body so that you’re facing him on your side, and he can cuddle you all night long if he so wishes. “I mean really, fuck—” barked laughter escapes him in utter disbelief, “Dunno what your ex was thinking, but God— ‘M never letting you go.”

And unfortunately, he truly means it. In every sense of the word, pulling you closer to his chest so that you can hear just how hard his heart thumps for you, even now as he comes down from his high. Keeping you close like glue, where no one can ever hurt you again, all safe and sound in your own mind with the best company to date!

And when they find you, they’ll find no other explanation other than: a coma. Poor thing… he’ll stay with you throughout it all— you won’t have to suffer all alone ever again.

[deadgirlwalking91]

For the prompts, I'd love to see, like, Adam and Lute at a coffee shop. Interpret however you wish! Love your stuff.

Hey, Sal! I decided to play around with this prompt a little. For context, it's a human AU and as I suspected, I couldn't keep it to 500-750 words, haha. Hope you enjoy!

It was the third time she’d been in this week.

Granted, it was a Friday, so there wasn’t anything necessarily odd about that. The cafe had a shitload of regulars that visited multiple days in a row. Like the weird, steampunk British dude with a lisp, or the loudmouth Aussie chick with the massive cans. Or, worse, the short redhead who seemed a little…unstable. There was something about her that unnerved Adam—probably that time she looked him dead in the eye and licked ketchup off the blade side of her knife with a sadistic as fuck grin.

That day, he’d sought refuge in the kitchen until she’d finally left.

None of them compared to her though. She was cool and collected; never stumbling over her order or digging around blindly in her purse for loose change. Was she friendly? Not really, but that added to her mystique. Though, she did crack a half-smile at one of his lame jokes once. That was cool.

Adam wasn’t serving when she walked through the cafe door that morning. He’d been in the kitchen, waiting for Lucifer to hurry up with the loudmouth Aussie’s breakfast. The rosy-cheeked fuck had been taking his sweet-ass time with her breakfast, and she’d bitched and moaned to Angel that it was taking too long. 

“Hurry the fuck up man, she’s about to cause a scene and I refuse to get my ass chewed out because you’ve counted exactly how many parsley leaves you’re sprinkling over her eggs or whatever the fuck it is you’re doing.”

“It’s fifteen, and we don’t have five star reviews on Yelp for nothing, you know.”

“I’d be willing to bet my left nut that the reviews have shit all to do with you.” 

Lucifer shoved the plate towards Adam, looked him dead in the eye and slammed his palm onto the bell. “Service.”

“I’m right fucking here, you don’t need to—”

“Adam!” Charlie rounded the corner, panting slightly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Can I get you to take table eighteen her coffee?”

Table eighteen. That was her. Adam’s hands grew clammy, and he wiped them subconsciously on his jeans. “Charlie, someone’s gotta take this to table eleven. She’s about to explode.”

“Leave Cherri to me.” Angel strode into the kitchen and leaned against the open, steel shelves. He crossed his long, lean arms over his chest and shot Adam a grin. “You take the ice queen. ‘Sides, we all know you’ve got a thing for her.”

“Fuck off, no I don’t—”

“Adam,” Charlie pleaded. “Please just go and serve her the coffee. I’ve left a muffin on the counter for you to take her, too. Tell her it’s on us.”

“What if she doesn’t like muffins?” Adam asked lamely. “Have—have you seen how fit she is? She’s probably, like, gluten-free or some shit.”

“You’re not into her, but you’re worried she’s gluten-free? Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Lucifer, I swear to fuck—”

“Dad, cut it out.” Charlie scolded. She took Adam by the crook of the arm and steered him out of the kitchen. He flipped the bird to Lucifer behind Charlie’s back, who returned the gesture with a one-fingered salute of his own. “She’s not. She’s ordered one before. It’s raspberry choc-chip, and she messaged the cafe’s Instagram to let me know it’s the best muffin she’d ever had.”

“Did she, you know, happen to ask about a tall, extremely good-looking waiter—”

“That’d be me you’re referring to,” Angel chirped as he sashayed past, Cherri’s breakfast held high above his head. “She didn’t mention a wannabe rockstar who’s never played a gig outside of his mom’s garage.”

Adam wanted nothing more than to shove Angel into the wall. Instead, he groaned and rubbed his eyes. He was in desperate need of a stiff drink. It was an urge he usually felt towards the end of each shift thanks to Charlie and her band of misfits, but the desire to down a shot of whiskey hadn’t quite hit him as early as eight o’clock in the morning before. 

There was a first time for everything, he supposed.

“Ignore him,” Charlie whispered. She squeezed Adam’s arm. “Just be yourself; you’ll be fine. Now, hurry up before her coffee goes cold and Husk has to make her another one.”

Adam heaved a sigh as he grabbed a tray and loaded the coffee and muffin onto it. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited at the prospect of getting to talk to her for the third time that week. “Here I go. If I make an ass out of myself, I’m burning this joint to the ground.”

If Charlie heard his thinly-veiled threat, she ignored it. Probably calling her girlfriend to give her a play-by-play of him looking like a dickhead in front of the hot customer.

She didn’t look up right away when he first approached. Her chin was propped up by her hand, and she was deeply engrossed in scrolling through her Instagram feed. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat awkwardly that she looked up, her pale, blue eyes gazing at him as if they were piercing through his very soul.

A slightly dramatic description, but whatever.

“Oh, hey.” She hooked her short, platinum hair behind her ears and stared at the tray, her expression slightly puzzled. “Did I order a muffin? I don’t—”

“It’s free,” Adam blurted out. “Charlie said you messaged the cafe and said these were your favourite, so I thought that—but if you don’t—”

Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I did. Whoever came up with the recipe for this is a fucking genius. I’m obsessed.”

Like fuck Adam was going to pass that compliment onto Lucifer and inflate his already massive ego. He set the muffin and her coffee down on the table, praying that she didn’t notice how the glass cup rattled against the ceramic saucer. “I actually suggested the flavour to our chef. It’s my favourite, too.”

He didn’t, and it wasn’t. His favourite was actually triple chocolate chip. She didn’t need to know that, though.

“A man with good taste.” She flashed him a wide smile. “I like that.”

“Yeah, well…” Adam shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Glad there’s something that keeps you coming back.”

“Oh, there is.” She wrapped her hands around the latte glass and cocked her head at him. “You know, you serve me every time I come here, and I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Adam. And yours is Lute. You come in every Monday morning and order an almond latte to-go. You bring your own reusable cup—it’s black with some kind of cool design that I can’t make out—and I’ve told our barista if he fucks up your order he won’t hear the end of it. From me, not you. And it—it’s been good, uh, seeing you in here more this week.”

Jesus Christ, what the fuck was wrong with him? She didn’t need all that extra information; all she’d done was stated that she didn’t know his name. Technically, she hadn’t even asked for his name. He’d just rattled it off like some lovesick sap in a bad nineties rom-com. All he needed was large cue-cards and a boombox.

Actually, Adam was pretty sure neither of those things belonged to the nineties-era of movies, but that wasn’t the point.

“Anyway,” he mumbled, feeling the tips of his ears burn. He was going to go and stick his head in the freezer. “You, uh, enjoy the coffee and the muffin. They’re on us. I’m gonna go and—”

“Wait.” Lute reached out and laid her hand on his forearm. “You know, this is a pretty big muffin, and you guys seem quiet this morning. It’s gotta be close to your break time; why don’t you split it with me?”

Adam glanced over at Charlie, who was pretending not to eavesdrop as she cleaned a nearby table. She shot him an enthusiastic thumbs up and retrieved her phone from the pocket of her apron; thumbs furiously flying across the screen. His smartwatch pinged, and he quickly glanced down at the message that flashed across the screen.

Great. It wasn’t her girlfriend she’d been updating. It was the fucking work group chat.

Charlie: He shoots, he scores!!!

Adam shut his watch off without a second thought. There was no way he was letting the likes of Lucifer and Angel ruin this moment.

“Yeah,” he breathed, sliding into the chair opposite Lute. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

[anystalker707]

Jealous? Me?

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x [gender-neutral, afab] Reader Kinktober prompt: Jealous sex Tags: Transmasc friendly / Dom-Sub undertones / Penetration / Strap game / Bottom law !

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

          You sat on the bed in the cabin, with your back against the wall, messing with a paper you’d found on the bedside table. It had nothing important nor special, but anything counted if there wasn’t an opening for a talk. He noticed it, certainly, Law was a smart guy, though he was also awful at talking about anything that involved feelings, whether they were his or not. Obviously, he put some effort into it when it came to you, and it still wasn’t any easier.

Law tried not to look a lot at you. He glanced around the cabin, restless, trying to find something to do after placing his sword down and leaving his hat on the desk. The desk, bedside table, adjusting the poster on the wall. None of it really worked. Eventually, he slowly let out a breath and stripped down to his boxer shorts to get ready for bed and sat down next to you. As much as he tried to rethink every single little thing he’d done that day, Law just couldn’t figure out what exactly made you act like that. It was a normal day at an island, restocking and chilling around a little. He had even been around you for most of the time.

Okay. There needed to be a first step, right? Law rested his head on your shoulder—or at least tried to, meeting the mattress instead. “Babe,” he sighed, bottom lip sticking out a little, as he crossed his arms. No answer. He raised his eyebrows a little, thinking for a moment. “Come on.”

“I can’t believe this still happens,” you sighed as you put the paper away and looked at Law. “Every single time, you’re always letting someone hit on you. Last time, it was that guy at the open market when we were buying food, but today, it was that woman at the docks. Like, I know you don’t flirt back or even think about anyone else, but can’t you at least push them away? It was obnoxious watching her shove her tits into your face while you just sat there. Are you dead or something?”

Well, Law did seem dead, to some degree. You couldn’t help but find it a little funny when he looked up at you with his droopy eyes, dark circles under them—your face didn’t mirror your thoughts, though.

“I’m sorry.” Law pressed his lips together. “You know that I just don’t care. It’s not like they know me or they’re going to kiss me or anything. Does it even matter?”

You narrowed your eyes at Law; he furrowed his eyebrows, looking up for a moment before he sat up, slowly exhaling. Despite your attempts to pull away, he still wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder.

“What I’m trying to say is that they’re unimportant. I only have eyes for you,” he mumbled, kissing your shoulder.

“At least be a little more considerate because I hate watching this happen,” you sighed, rolling the paper up to smack Law’s head then put it away again.

“Ouch,” he groaned, scrunching his nose. “You know you’re the only one who gets to touch me, to kiss me, to see my bed hair, to see me all skrunkly whenever sleep-deprived… The only one who gets cuddles, love, this body, kisses,” he continued listing, observing your face carefully—his heart fluttered at the smallest sign of a smile on your face. “But I will try to be more attentive about it. For you, babe.”

A sigh escaped your lips, and Law felt your shoulder relaxing under his head. “Okay.” You nodded, looking at him. “But I still expect you to make up for it. Come on, Law.” The fact you said his name instead of a pet name made him look at you again, pausing as he met your gaze. “Did you even remember my existence after that woman in the docks started flirting with you? I bet all you think about now are her tits, with the way she kept shoving it in your face. You barely talked to me after that. You only approached me now, and…”

“Stop being so dramatic!” Law groaned as he threw a leg over and straddled your lap, facing you. “You know how bad I am with this stuff, and you kept avoiding me!” His palms pressed both of your cheeks together as he looked at you in the eyes. “What was I supposed to do, hm? I was thinking about you all the time!”

You crossed your arms over your chest with a scoff. “Untrue.”

Law’s eyebrows knitted together, and he pouted again. “I only have eyes for you. I literally have a tattoo with your name, pictures of you everywhere, I take you everywhere. What else do you need?” He wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you close, and you wanted to laugh at his growing desperation.

Of course, he loved you. Protecting you was always Law’s first reaction whenever some danger approached, and he needed to spend at least a certain amount of time with you during the day, or else he’d get extremely clingy. Not to mention the small things he did, like making sure you were always eating properly or drinking enough water, always knowing when you needed hugs or space.

“You’re so fake!” You clicked your tongue, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his collarbone—his hands rested on your back with the change. “You don’t even like me, Trafalgar, you just use me because there’s no one else for you in the sub!”

Law felt like dying. He knew it was playful banter, but there was a bottom of truth, and he didn’t know what to do right now to get that off your mind. Whatever he had to say turned into a gasp once you started nipping on his collarbones instead of just kissing, also making your way up his neck. A soft groan escaped his lips as he leaned his head back, and the new kisses up his throat made him groan again.

“Goddammit, (y/n),” he sighed.

The soft touches on his back made Law shiver, feeling your fingers trace down his spine gently, eventually slipping into his boxers—he swallowed dryly as he kept still, despite the frustration once your hand pulled away.

“I hate you.” Law rubbed the back of your neck, humming at how your lips sucked a mark into the side of his neck.

“I know,” you chuckled as you leaned back and looked at him. “If you didn’t hate me, you wouldn’t be letting anyone else hit on you like that!”

Law’s eyes widened as he glared at you, clicking his tongue. That was getting ridiculous. “I’m yours,” he said with a nod. “I’m all yours. Only yours. Your property, your boyfriend, your girlfriend, and whatever else you want.” His face fell as you chuckled more, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. You were insufferable, but he loved you so much it hurt.

“You’re so cute when you’re desperate like that,” you chuckled, but you were shut up by a kiss this time. Despite the initial lack of reaction, you slowly kissed Law back.

The soft kisses started gaining urgency in no time—Law’s teeth tugged on your lips before he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth at the first opportunity you got. Fuck, it made you groan. Your hands tightened around his waist, and Law finally felt like he was getting somewhere.

“Stop being so annoying,” Law breathed against your lips. “You’re lucky that I love you.”

You eyed him with a smirk, shaking your head a little. “Do you, though?” Before there was any interruption, you shifted your positions, making Law fall back on the mattress. “Whatever. I think it’s about time I give you a little reminder about who you belong to.”

Law perked up a little at the same time his cheeks burned, and he had to close his eyes for a moment. “I’m not against that.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

It didn’t take long for you to undress, get the box from the wardrobe, and get the strap-on ready, but it felt like an eternity for Law as he buried his face into the pillow he hugged, also undressed. He was thankful you couldn’t see his cock under him because he was afraid he’d started leaking already just from the pressure of the occasion.

The mattress shifting around him brought Law back to reality. He lifted his head as he felt you straddle the back of his thighs, and the soft kisses pressed between his shoulder blades eased part of the anxiety. With a soft hum, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the pillow again, sideways this time. He loved the way you touched him, so careful and loving. Your fingertips traced the tattoos on his back, going down to his tramp stamp—your thumbs pressed to it so nicely, rubbing circles into the skin. He moaned at something as simple as that.

“Stretch?” You asked, receiving a hum of denial in response. It rushed things a little.

The lube was cold, eventually warming up as you spread it evenly over your fingers. Your thumb held Law’s ass cheek to the side and exposed his waiting hole; he gasped, tensing up under you once two of your fingers pressed to his entrance. In soft circles, they traced his hole, spreading the lube before starting to push in. Law let out a sound that was muffled against the pillow, clenching tightly.

You didn’t take long—since Law didn’t need you to stretch him first, you didn’t bother lingering around sensitive spots or curling your fingers up inside him, only spreading the lube generously. The strap’s dildo was next.

Law visibly tensed up a little as he felt you shifting, but he didn’t move. A knee sank into the bed beside each of Law’s thighs, and there was an elbow by his side before he felt the toy press to his entrance. He moaned, pressing his eyes shut as he felt your cock slowly push in, stretching him so nicely as his walls accommodated around it, and his back arched a little bit once he felt it start pressing to his sensitive spots. It felt so good.

“Fuck,” you whispered, letting your other elbow sink into the bed as well, now that you didn’t need to guide the toy into him anymore. Your chest pressed to Law’s back, feeling it rise with his breathing, which easily fell out of pace as you started moving your hips.

The first thrust was shallow, barely having anything moving, but it helped you adjust your position to find enough support to make things easier. Law hissed as he felt you slowly build a pace, his fingers wrapping around the pillow as his cock twitched between him and the mattress. He could relax according to how his body got used to the new pleasure, burying the lower half of his face into the pillow, muffling his moans.

“Still thinking about someone else?” You breathed into Law’s ear, your voice carrying that bitter tone that agonized him so fucking much. “Or did you remember who’s your actual partner, hm?” A gasp came from Law as your hips snapped particularly sharply, pressing to a sensitive spot inside him. “You must like making me jealous,” you sighed.

His will to protest was practically useless—whatever you did to him, it took away Law’s capability of forming a proper train of thought, only allowing him to focus on how good you made him feel. The best he could do was groan in a tone that mixed pleasure and complaint, and he was sure it only amused you.

A trail of kisses was left along Law’s shoulder, sometimes interrupted by soft nipping. Your lips felt so nice, hot against his skin, adding to the pleasure that only you could ever give him. The thrusts became a little more intense, not exactly faster, as you bit down on his shoulder; Law arched his back with it, moaning.

You reached deep inside him, making him feel so deliciously full, so good. His fingers sank into the pillow again, holding it tightly to himself.

It took you a while, slowly removing an elbow from the mattress and slowly stabilizing yourself so that you could reach a hand up to Law’s face. He was a little confused but gasped at feeling your fingers pushing into his mouth, two of them, forcing their way in as your palm pressed to his cheek. He was forced to stop burying his face into the soft fabric of the pillow, letting his moans shamefully fill the room along with your unsteady breathing and the occasional squelching sound.

“Ahhh,” Law groaned, unable to say anything even if he wanted to. Drool started running down the corner of his mouth, and he wanted to disappear for a moment—he felt embarrassed at the same time he felt stupidly good.

Maybe he lost track of time for a moment. His mind started getting fuzzier at some point, the corners of his vision blackening out, his cock aching as it throbbed, all somehow turning him on even more. Reality came back to him with the way you groaned, shifting a little behind him, and his tongue was already hanging out of his mouth at this point.

You were probably aware of how it made him feel and felt proud of it. Your thrusts kept going, fucking Law so nicely, keeping that angle that made his back arch more and his moans grow a pitch higher.

“What’s it?” You whispered, lips grazing the shell of his ear. Hell, the way you regretted not getting a vibrator or something inside yourself before. He was such a mess under you… It made you feel so hot, unfortunately unattended; the eventual friction of the back of the strap-on against you didn’t even count.

“I hope the next time someone is hitting on you, you actually remember how nice I fuck you. Maybe that’ll help instead,” you said sharply.

Law would never admit it, but he loved it when you’d change roles with him and take charge like that, muttering loving or cruel words to him, riding or fucking him—he was a sucker for it. He knew some things that would often trigger this change, and one of them was jealousy. No, he never made you jealous on purpose, but whenever he noticed your bad mood towards him was due to jealousy, his cock already throbbed in his pants.

The moans that slipped from Law’s lips grew each time louder according to how his orgasm approached, forming that familiar tingling sensation in the base of his stomach. His mouth ached a little from the way your fingers tugged on it, but maybe he enjoyed pain.

Law’s cum made a hot and sticky mess that’d require a change of bedsheets later, shot between himself and the mattress as he kept being fucked through his high, and even after. He whimpered, gasping for air at the edge of overstimulation that was quickly replaced by the awful feeling of nothingness at the same time your hand let go of him. He clenched around nothing as you pulled your cock out of him, arching his back then curling up a little while whimpering more. Too much to process. You were making him go crazy.

“Fuck,” you whispered, pulling back to take the strap off, no matter how messy it was. “My time now, right?” You kissed the back of Law’s neck and pressed a hand to his back. “I hope you didn’t forget me again.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[boundbyeclipse]

3(fluff) or 5(fluff) with Lars Ulrich??? Seems like it’d be really cute for him:>

Hope you’ve been having a good day!🫶

-👻

i only have eyes for you

genre : fluff

word count : 952

tags : softie!lars, lars x reader, one swear word, and that's basically it

from the prompt list : 3. "I'll walk you home"

It was a chilly November evening, the sun going down and slowly disappearing within the horizon, fall leaves crunching under your feet as you walked  to the cafe. You adored the colors of them, as well as the scent, it was such a beautiful time of the year. But you weren’t the only one thinking that way - Lars thought alike, who was right beside you. The boy with long, luscious brown hair and dreamy green eyes was taking you out on a date for the first time ever since you two met. 

It happened two months ago, while Metallica was performing on the stage, you arrived to pay a visit to your brother who worked as a staff member for the boys. Once the show was done, he kindly introduced you to all four of them. They all looked really handsome, but specifically Lars. You found him magnetic, it was hard to stop staring at that guy the whole entire time. The hair, the smile, the voice. Oh, did he notice. But you weren’t the only one who found it hard to look elsewhere. Lars clearly had trouble with it too.

The boys, being friendly and nice, offered to go eat something and just hang out with you and your brother all together. Sure, you agreed, because why not? Anyone would say yes to going out with Metallica. Now that was one hell of a lucky day. 

Well, ever since then, Lars got to see you more and more because you would come to visit your brother almost every time they had a concert. You knew you were welcome there so it was not a problem for anybody to have you coming. 

Eventually, Lars found himself thinking about you so much, every day and night, to the point where he realized that he liked you a lot, and that he had to do something about it quickly. Mind you, he’s quite the possessive type, so Lars wasn’t going to let anyone else pull you away from him. And with that being said, after having dinner with the boys, he called you and asked you if you wanted to go out for coffee. First move was successful. 

That’s how you ended up here, in this cafe with Lars who sat in front of you. You couldn’t help but smile the entire time you two talked and whenever he made you laugh a lot. With him, time was flying and you didn’t even think about it until you looked at the clock. 

“Wait, what? We’ve been here for three hours already?” your eyes widened upon realization. 

“Shit, I thought we’ve only been here for like an hour” Lars chuckled, leaning back in his seat and also taking a look at the clock on the wall to his left. 

“You okay with spending so much time with me?” 

He shrugged, “I don’t mind that, we got nothing to do tomorrow anyways” 

“And you still chose to invite me on a date today instead of tomorrow after you’ve had your rest, ugh” you jokingly rolled your eyes and sighed, shaking your head  in disbelief. 

Lars smirked to himself avoiding eye contact as he fiddled his fingers as he had his hands in his lap. He was just thinking about what to say to you. 

“I’m just like that. If I don’t do it now, I might not get the chance to do it ever again” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“Do I look like a skittish cat that’s going to just run off suddenly? I didn’t give you my number only to disappear the next day” 

“Who knows, maybe you don’t like me” he smiled to himself, fixing his hair and placing his elbows on the table. You only shook your head and looked at him with a giggle.

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, you idiot”

It made him smile wider, genuinely, the teasing from you made him feel happy. That’s one of the things he liked about you so much - when you called him names and had a bit of an attitude to yourself. He only wanted to know more about you.

After another twenty-ish minutes, you decided it was time to go home since it was getting late and you both needed to get some sleep. It was also already dark outside and you weren’t so comfortable with walking home on your own. But to your surprise, Lars spoke up.

“I’ll walk you home” as if he could read your mind.

“Really?” “Yeah. I’m not letting you go all alone when it’s this dark out” 

You pressed your lips together in an attempt to hide the smile that was breaking out, but failed as it was impossible to stop it. 

“Thank you” 

“Thank me later” he said, helping you with your coat. 

The walk was soon over as you reached the location of your home, standing right in front of it together as the wind began to pick up pace. It was getting colder, too.

You shrugged your shoulders up in response to the wind. 

“Can I thank you now?” 

“Yes���

“Thank you, Lars” 

Both of you smiled at each other. 

“No worries. Now get your beautiful face inside and get all cozy and warm, alright?”

“Okay. And you text me when you’re back and safe. Got it?” 

Lars nodded.

“I will” 

Oh, how much he wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t want to rush. But that’s okay, he’s got all the time to do it. So instead, he just patted the top of your head before saying goodnight and heading back to the hotel they were staying at, sending you a text right then and there,  just as he promised. 

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: The Marketplace Incident

~ my little written sketch for @vesuviaweekly's prompt "How Things Went Wrong (feat the Arcana familiars)". Enjoy an afternoon from the perspective of my fandom self-insert :3 ~

Word count: 1.5k

The marketplace really is the best spot to write in. The bustle of afternoon shoppers in the sunny square is a soothing view from my shaded nook, tucked between Selasi's booth and an alleyway of stairs. The steady sea breeze makes the parchment in front of me flutter, carrying the smell of spiced bread as it tousles my hair from my forehead.

"Need a refill?" The baker leans on the stone wall above the low table I'm pretending to draft my next story on. "Maybe it will help the ink flow better."

"Thanks, Selasi, but I'm afraid I've barely had a sip." I gesture to my mostly-full clay cup. "It's a good blend, though - what did you use for it this time?"

"A craftsman never shares his secrets." He hunches closer, not-so-subtly trying to sneak a peek at my handwriting. "What is today's writing about? More of our six friends' adventures, by a friendly young man whose signature is a rotting brain?"

I roll my eyes at his teasing smile. "Okay, using the moniker 'brainrot' doesn't automatically mean gruesome physical decay -"

We both jump at the sudden cat's yowl from the direction of the baker's counter. A fuzzy orange blur streaks to my corner, tiny claws digging into my shirt as it uses me as a ladder to get to Selasi's shoulder.

"Pounce? What is it, little one?"

"Bad dogs!" Faust's face pops into view, her body slowly unwinding from the cloth umbrella over me.

I barely have time to stabilize her plop onto my arm before I catch sight of two more barking fuzzy blurs tearing around the corner, a screeching raven flapping frantically after them. All three start heading in my direction as soon as they see me stand up to intervene. "Mercedes, Melchior! Come here!"

As ill-trained as I know Lucio's dogs are, the half-finished roll I hold out in their direction is more than enough to convince them. They slide to a halt in front of me, paws and tail still skittering from side to side, eyes trained on the treat. The flustered raven descends on my shoulder and Faust scoots onto Selasi's arm to give him more space.

"It's rare to see these fellows here without their owners ..." The baker runs his hand over Pounce's bushed-out tail in a soothing arc. "Did something happen?"

"What didn't happen?" I mumble in response. I don't think I recognize the strange goop Faust has left on my shirt, or the hooped earring in Malak's beak, or the concerningly pleasant smell wafting off of the dog's silky coats. I hold out my palm in front of the bird on my shoulder. "Give me the shiny, please. Which friend did you take this from?"

"Took it when I squeezed!"

"Who did you squeeze, Faust? Was it Julian?"

"Stinky count. Stole my fishies!"

The hissed voice clearly belongs to a cat, but it's not coming from the trembling ginger tabby in Selasi's arms. Pepi lopes into view on the wall above me with a smug look on her little face. Oh, right. I keep forgetting that she learned how to talk ...

"Lucio ... stole your fish?"

"Pepi earned the fishies - Pepi was a good cat and caught all the rats! Went to the docks to get the fishies, but he took them first!"

I try to piece the narrative together, noticing what looks like a pearly white owl listening in from the roof of the booth. "So ... Portia went to buy Pepi some fish, but Lucio bought them first? Where did the earring come from?"

"Master tried to help!"

"Oh, did Asra try to trade their earring for the fish? I thought his piercings closed up years ago."

Malak caws loudly in protest. Faust wiggles and bobs from her perch on Selasi's shoulder as the distant owl takes off for a different corner of the marketplace.

"Not Master's earring."

I study the golden hoop, finally catching the protective gleam in Malak's eye. "Ohh, this is Julian's, isn't it? Okay, from the top." I watch five pairs of animal eyes point back in my direction. "Portia went to get fish for Pepi, but Lucio bought them first. Asra tried to intervene, and then Julian offered an earring that he apparently owns to bargain for the fish with. Is that right?"

I almost miss the variety of nods when a thick coat of fur unexpectedly brushes across the backs of my knees. When I look down, it's right into Inanna's bright green eyes - and the torn bag of rice in her mouth. She drops it at my feet, spilling the grains across the ground and sending Malak into a flurry of indignant squawks. The wolf curls up for a nap at my heels, completely unfazed. Selasi gently sets Faust on my abandoned parchment and returns to his oven with an amused "good luck!"

"O-Okay." I drag my hand down my face and do my best to analyze the mess. "So why do the dogs smell nice, why is Faust slimy enough to smudge my ink, and why am I the one currently holding Julian's mystery hoop?"

"Squeeze the thief! Rescue the shiny! Run away fast!"

Faust bleps her tongue proudly, while Pepi takes a smug seat on the stones and the dogs begin to growl. One warning huff from the large wolf pretending to sleep behind me quietens the impending ruckus.

"And ... do I want to know about the slime and the fruity smells?"

Pepi yawns above me, slowly succumbing to the sun-warmed wall. "Beauty stall."

Faust curls herself elegantly over my story draft in an attempt to flaunt her shiny scales. "Moisturize."

"You're practically glowing, Faust. Such a beautiful girl!" Asra's trotting in my direction, a very sweaty pair of Devorak siblings close behind and a red-faced ex-count bringing up the rear. The magician scoops her up off of the table, my freshly hydrated parchment going with it, as Pepi uses the top of my head as a springboard into Portia's arms. Julian gives his judgemental raven a sheepish look before brightening at the earring in my palm.

"Did you leave us the rice trail, Faust?" Asra scritches the serpent's chin.

"Wait - rice trail? What rice trail? Is that how you knew where you were going? Where did they get - my rice!"

Inanna gives the shocked doctor a guiltily amused look, nudging the torn bag with her nose and watching the last of the grains spill onto my feet. Lucio straightens from where's been fussing over his perfumed dogs, finally catching his breath.

"Hah! Serves you right for trying to take my fish!"

Portia bristles and turns on him as Inanna slinks off to the large figure skulking in the shadows several booths away. "Your fish? That vendor and I have been friends for three years, you heard him say that I'd get first pick!"

I can't tell if Lucio is grinning or gritting his teeth. "Does it matter? I already paid for those things, they were the least smelly ones!"

"Enough!" The Countess's firm voice rings across the corner of the square, effectively halting the brewing squabble that's hijacking my writing corner. Chandra reassumes her perch on the baker's booth roof as Nadia rubs her temples in resigned frustration. "I have already paid for a year's worth of cosmetics. I have no interest in paying for your argument with a headache as well."

She heaves a tired sigh as the familiars settle in with their owners, sparing me a comforting glace. "Considering the paperless state of your table, I trust there were no writing casualties involved?"

Portia scurries over with a worried look. "Oh, I'm so glad you hadn't started yet!"

"Well ..."

"I think we did interrupt him, unfortunately." Asra's already taking a seat at my table, holding a fresh bowl of rolls in one hand and my smudged paper in the other while Faust hides guiltily in their shirt. "What's a 'ringtone'?"

Julian helps himself to the paper. "Allow me - perhaps I can shed some light on - ah!"

I've already given up hope on restoring my draft, so I don't wince nearly as badly as my friends do as a sharp, golden hand snatches my handwriting and rips it in the process. Lucio's pout deepens the further he reads. "I'm not in this."

"He's probably not finished it." Nadia holds her hand out, impervious to Lucio's begrudging surrender, and carefully offers the paper back to me. "We should leave you in peace, or you'll never meet your deadline."

Portia takes the cue and begins herding Lucio back to the docks for a fresh round of fish. Nadia gives Asra a pointed look, resulting in them stuffing the last of their roll into their mouth and rising from the cushions. They leave the last two pieces of bread for me.

"Julian," I call as he turns away, "one more question."

"Ah - yes?"

"What's the story with the earring?"

"Oh!" He flushes unexpectedly, fumbling the hoop away into his pocket. "... it, ah, it doesn't go in my ear. Adieu!"

[lorifragolina]

More than Roommates...?

Another entry for @harringrovesummerbingo!

It's a silly rom com and I tried to keep it short :) I hope you enjoy it!

Title: More than Roommates...?

Square & Prompt: C1 "Laughter"

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2501

Major Tags: Friendly schemes, Enemies to Lovers

Summary:

Steve and Billy are roommates, but they didn't start with the right foot... even if they became attracted to each other pretty soon. But both of them think that the other didn't swing the same way... Two smart friends and a good scheme are needed for making them move... or not?

Read it on AO3

“Robin, he’s not gay, it’s as plain as day”.

“I never see him with a girl”.

“It’s because he’s not… I mean, he doesn’t… he just goes casual”.

“Well you can just ask and remove any doubt”.

“Are you nuts? He’s my roommate, I can’t go and ask something like this”.

Robin snorted and shrugged. It was the third or fourth time they had a similar discussion, in a corner of the cafeteria in front of their morning coffees. Usually, Steve had some wet dream about his roommate and went to venting with her. 

“Well I’ll ask him then,” she said stubbornly, frankly fed up with the hesitation of her best friend.

“Don’t you dare! Do you have an idea of how much it has cost me to find that room? I can’t ruin things with him”.

“I know, Steve, do you forget we moved here together?”

“Yes but you are a brainiac and you have your room granted in the residence”.

Robin snorted again soundly. It hadn't been so easy as Steve was painting it,  for her, but she could understand his doubts. 

Moreover, Steve and his roommate had a rough start and now, almost at the end of their freshman year, things were smoother and it was better trying not to ruin them.

“So, did you have some action lately?”

Heather adjusted the camera and went nearer to the screen, smiling slyly.

Billy sighed. “Nothing at all… dead calm”, he moaned, shaking his head.

“Don’t tell me you're still after him,” she raised her eyes. “Why don’t you make a move yet?”

“Sweet Jesus, he’s not gay!” shrieked Billy, regretting immediately for raising his voice, even if he was in his room alone. “He’s not gay, I already told you”.

“You can’t say. Do you know how many people swing in both ways?”

“He’s not”.

“Did he ever bring a girl into his room?”

“Well Robin is always here, but…”

“But they’re having sex? No, they don’t, so?”

“Well, maybe they…”

“Why don’t you ask him out? What could happen? At least you’ll stop bothering me with that nonsense”.

Billy knew that Heather loved him madly and he didn’t take her words badly, but she didn’t live there and she had no real idea of the situation.

It was him who had to live with Steve, and he didn’t want to ruin the delicate situation they created lately.

They had bitter arguments at the start of the year;  Billy liked to blast his metal out loud and having large Skype call in the common space until late, while Steve loved cheesy pop music and he wanted to sleep in the middle of the night; Billy liked to exercise and go to the gym and take care of his appearance, occupying the bathroom for hours. Steve was equally vain, but ha was not a morning person, so he passed half of his mornings knocking frantically at the bathroom door, and when he was able to going in, he didn’t mind to use Billy’s hair and body product, driving him mad when he smelled the scent of his special hair mousse on Steve’s hair. 

One time Steve had run out of the bathroom yelling like mad because he found Billy’s body hair in his razor, starting an argument that lasted almost two weeks. As if that were not enough, they had argued also in class, bickering about some unimportant detail in the textbook and their feud had been the goss of the week. 

They kept being on each other's way in college orientation events and in the basketball matches, but after a really tense few months, they reasoned out as adults, then they apologized and the cohabitation had started to go better. 

The problem was, for Billy, that all the confront and bickering had made him fixating in Steve’s body language, his moves and gestures and to walk in the room when he was agitated, how he passed his hands in his hair or put his hand on his hips, and specially in how the little mole at the side of his mouth moved when he was arguing, distracting Billy and driving Steve really mad; he didn’t know that in those moment when Billy forgot how to blink, he was thinking of kissing that little mole and all the other moles in his face and licking his neck and biting him and…

“Billy? Are you here?” Steve knocked at the door before entering.

Billy was still on his Skype call.

“I have to go, Heater, I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said in a rush, closing the laptop.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you”.

“Don’t worry, I have already finished the call”.

“Ok… something important?”

“Oh no… family thing, you know, nothing important…”

Steve nodded, taking a glass of water and drinking near the sink with his hand on his hips, pensive. Billy had to gulp his agitation and smiled tensely.

“I was thinking to have a shower, do you want to use the bathroom?” He asked kindly, one of the things he learned to do to maintain their good relationship.

“Oh, no thanks, go ahead,” Steve smiled tensely too, washing a couple of dishes still in the sink since the morning. 

He was almost sure that he heard a feminine voice, he knew that Billy had a sister but it didn’t seem to him the same voice; Billy always closed his calls when he came in the room, because he didn’t want to argue anymore about bothering calls, but Steve suspected he called always the same girl, probably his distant girlfriend and for this he never bring any woman at home. Steve didn’t dare ask to maintain the balance between them and the peace they gained so difficulty.

He suffered for not knowing, anyway… he didn’t define himself as gay, he liked girls, but he also liked men very much, and Billy in particular was his type almost exactly, although they started hating each other; but he liked ripped, neat men, well trimmed, with an angelic nuisance and a nasty attitude; and Billy, with his Californian Barbie complexion, was almost near to perfection, making him struggle to stay formal near to him. Even if Billy still hadn’t picked up any girl at college, he had a crowd of female admirers and he seemed to enjoy it, so Steve knew he couldn’t have a possibility. Moreover, if he would come out with Billy, he could feel uncomfortable; he didn’t seem homophobe, but not everyone wanted to sleep with a non straight roommate. 

“Oh, shit,” groaned Steve, raising his eyes to the cafeteria door. 

“Oh, shit,” echoed Robin, for completely different reasons. 

Billy had just entered with a stunning brunette hanging at his arm, a beaming smile and gushing with happiness.

The girl was short but curvy, with pink hearted glasses and red lips, and a pair of mini shorts that showed her nicely shaped legs; the perfect Barbie complement for Billy, sighed Steve seeing his hopes shattered in the floor. 

Robin couldn’t also take her eyes off of the girl, definitely her type, even if she seemed she couldn't take her eyes off of Billy.

“Hey,” Billy waved at Steve, who he felt he wanted to die. He smiled and waved back. 

“Hello, I didn’t know you were here either… Heather just arrived by train to visit me”.

“Hello,” said the girl, lowering the glasses and raising her hand directly to Robin. “I’m Heather”.

“I’m Robin,” she answered, breathless. They looked at each other for a long, long moment, until Billy dared to speak again.

“And he’s Steve, my roommate”.

Heather smiled again, giving him her hand too. “Oh. I heard a lot about you”.

Steve blushed and Billy nudged her. “Stop it,” he hissed, then went to the bar to order the coffee.

“So, you’re studying here too?” Heather asked directly to Robin, who blushed, leaving Steve wide mouthed and speechless. They talked a little bit, ignoring Steve completely until Billy returned with the drinks. Robin got up to go to class reluctantly.

“Well I’m staying all weekend, I hope you can join us for dinner tonight,” Heather chirped with a soundly voice, and Robin nodded and went away, giggling. 

“So you’re the famous Steve,” she immediately turned to him, resting her face on her hand. “I thought you were taller”.

“Heather!” Hissed Billy.

Steve cleared his throat. “Will you… will you stay in our room?” His voice was oddly high pitched.

“Oh no, I booked a B&B here near the campus. I don’t want to bother you two big guys,” she giggled and they both blushed furiously. 

“But I hope you don’t mind if she stays a little in the room…” said Billy carefully. 

“Oh no, not at all”.

Heather smiled and they finished their drink, then she and Billy went away to visit the campus, leaving Steve sitting there, heartbroken.

“I don’t want to go to dinner with the lovebirds!” Said Steve later, outside Robin dorm. Robin pouted and looked at him with flames in her eyes. 

“Are you stupid?” She hissed. “I’ll go even if you don’t come”.

“If you like to be the third wheel…”

“God, you’re really stupid!” Robin crossed her arms and refused to talk again with him. 

When she reached them at the restaurant, Steve looked at her, really puzzled. He never saw her so dressed up before. She barely used makeup and combed her hair with a bobby pin to avoid hair in the eyes, but that night she was wearing a fancy jacket and pants and she curled her hair and painted her eyes and lips; she was really pretty, and when he looked the glance Heather gave to her, he finally understood why she called him stupid lately. 

Billy and Steve witnessed their shameless flirtation with wide eyes, unable to say anything and looking furtively at each other, utterly embarrassed. Steve was glad she definitely wasn’t his distant girlfriend, and Billy was glad that Robin was the platonic girlfriend of Steve, but they didn’t know how to break the ice to each other and bring the topic on the table. They kept talking about trivial things, some sport results and TV shows while their friends were talking intensely and ignoring them.

Steve and Billy didn’t notice that they exchanged each other's numbers, but when they left the restaurant, Heather announced that she wanted to go resting after the trip, but she would be free the rest of the weekend to do something fun with them.

Billy walked her to her hotel and Steve and Robin went away in the opposite direction.

“What the fuck was that?” Snapped Steve once they were a little far.

“What?”

“All that thing, you were… flirting with her? You had just met her!”

Robin shrugged, looking at her mobile that had just buzzed. 

“Well she’s not his girlfriend. And he clearly hasn’t problems with queer people”.

Steve sighed. Well, there was a difference between having a lesbian friend and sleeping in the same room with someone who wanted to be in your pants.

“You couldn’t stay quiet, not for a little minute, could you?” Hissed Billy walking with her.

“You didn’t tell me she was gorgeous and lesbian, Billy. Is your gaydar broken?”

“I don’t… hey I don’t need to justify with you! I… I just didn’t realize”.

“Well it’s the perfect excuse to make a move with him, don’t you think? And you didn’t tell me he had that juicy ass, you little scoundrel”.

“Oh, please, stop! It’s a coincidence his friend is a lesbian. It doesn’t mean anything”

“Oh, it doesn't mean anything, Mr queer like a three dollar bill?”

“Stop this nonsense, I can do nothing with him. He’s straight and we are roommates, that’s all”.

Heather groaned and entered the hotel. She wrote to Robin immediately, chatting with her all night. 

“Is there some club to go dancing near there?” Asked Heather the next night, peeping a glimpse at Robin. 

“Well the Pink Flag is over there and they have good cocktails,” answered Robin immediately, waving at the end of the street. “You don’t have problems going to a queer bar, right, Steve?”

Steve blushed and nodded, of course he didn’t have problems, they went there very often, but he looked at Billy’s face, who blushed, lowered his face and nodded too. The girls joined the queue hand in hand and abandoned them behind. 

Billy tried to smile, worried, and saw the same expression on Steve's face. “Well at least they’re having a good time,” he sighed, while the girls were already chatting with the bouncer, who knew Robin, and obviously Steve. He accurately avoided confessing to Billy that he was a regular there, but he couldn't hide it for longer.

“Hey Steve, it’s been ages, I missed you! Oh, he is the guy Robin just told me about?”

“Hello… hello Alan…” answered nervously Steve, looking at his feet and running inside before the bouncer could say more embarrassing things. 

Robin and Heather were still inside, giggling at the dirty look he launched at them.

“How you dared!” He hissed to Robin. 

“Well you needed a nudge,” she giggled, disappearing on the dance floor with Heather.

Billy was looking at him, confused. “I’m not sure what had just happened outside… Do you come here often?”

Steve blushed. “Well, me and Robin, we… well, you know…”

“And what he said? You… talked about… me… with Robin?”

Steve gulped, looking away, feeling the tense in Billy’s words. 

“She thinks… well, she thinks I have… she thinks I have a little crush on you, that’s all. But don’t worry, I am not…”

“Oh shit,” Billy hit his forehead. “Don’t you see?” Steve looked at him, puzzled. “Don’t you see? They set a trap! It’s so clear!”

“A trap? But why? You don’t… don’t you…?”

Billy snickered, a little embarrassed too. “Well, well it’s possible that I… I mentioned to Heather that… I may like my roommate just a little bit”.

“Those filthy little bitches!” Snapped Steve, and Billy laughed, heartily, defusing the tension between them. Steve joined his laughter, looking in his eyes and staring at his swollen, juicy lips.

“I… I never heard you laughing…” he said, touching Billy’s arm with bashfulness. “I like it,” he smiled then, and Billy melted, looking at him with glossy, puppy eyes. 

He cupped Steve’s face and pecked him, kissing his smile, then Steve pecked him back, and they finally kissed, finally biting each other's lips, with a stupid happy look on their faces. 

“So what will we do now?” Whispered Billy, taking Steve’s hand. Steve looked at him with a mischievous smile. 

“Well, my roommate is cool, you can come in my room later,” he grinned, and Billy laughed again. “But meanwhile, those little schemers don’t deserve satisfaction”.

Billy nodded. “Agree. Let’s make them suffer a little more. But first, kiss me again”.

Steve laughed, and threw his arms around him, bursting in happiness.

[blinddreams24]

Plankton

A Mermay Prompt

Masterlist

Prev / Next

“Hunting lessons!” Killer added the dramatic flare of jazz hands.

You stared at him. “Hunting lessons?”

“Obviously.” He grinned and gestured at you. “You’re so skinny, you look like a pipefish.” “Hey-!” “So! I’m gonna teach you! We’ll start with the easy stuff since you’re inexperienced. Plankton are easy enough. Here.”

Killer spent the next hour teaching you how to catch plankton and other easy larger fish. After you started to get the hang of it, Killer proposed an idea.

“How about this, y/n? I’m gonna go that way, you go the other way, we’ll catch as much as we can and meet back up here. Just each of us hunting alone. Whoever catches the most fish wins!”

You eyed him suspiciously. “And what does the winner get?”

Killer’s grin widened. “A favor~. Whoever wins gets to ask a favor of the other. No questions asked.”

It was a trap. You knew it was a trap. But you really didn’t want to back down from a challenge. Besides, you were faster than Killer. Maybe that could give you just enough of an advantage to make it fair.

You shrugged. “Why not? Go on three?”

“Go!” Killer shot away from you.

“Hey!” You quickly turned the other way and sped to catch as many fish as you could. Cheater. You should have known he’d pull something like that. He was always trying your patience with stuff like that. Scratch that, he was trying everyone’s patience.

He was right about plankton being easier to catch, though you didn’t think the tiny organisms would count so you just ate them.

You’d barely caught your first fish when you felt something shift in the water behind you. Was Killer back already or did he just want to mess with you? Make you lose focus.

“If you want to win, you should go back to hunting.” You commented over your shoulder.

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry. I don’t believe that was meant for me.” Sung a new voice.

You spun sharply around. Your eyes landed on the most beautiful siren you’d ever seen.(don’t tell the boys) A golden crown on his head shimmered with a light that was rivaled by his friendly smile. His lower half hovered gently with two translucent fins as his tail curled gently under him, not quite touching the floor.

A seahorse siren.

“I don’t believe we have met.” He politely crossed his hands in front of him and tipped his head. He was surprisingly almost twice your length. “I am Dream. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh! Uh, I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you too, Dream.” You tipped your head as well. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”

“I am on a mission to find my brother. He… He is in a bit of trouble and I wish to get him out. But first I must find him.” Dream glanced around, concern written on his face.

Another seahorse siren? You hadn’t seen anyone that looked like Dream. You gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen anyone.”

Dream nodded and gave you a sad smile back. “I should hope not.”

…

That wasn’t freaky at all.

“Ooookay?” You drifted carefully away, looking around for Killer. Where was that obnoxious skeleton when you needed him?

“Oh, I’m sorry, y/n!” Dream gasped, his eyes wide. “I did not mean to startle you! He is just very dangerous and I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Are you a new siren?”

You hesitated but answered honestly. “…Yes. Why?”

“When you get as old as me, it’s easy to see when someone is unsteady on their fins. Are you in good company?” His tone grew concerned as he became serious. Like he was hinting at something dark.

“I’d say so. I was welcomed into the pod after they helped me convert so I’m not alone.”

Dream sighed with relief. “So it was conversion by consent. Good. That’s good. How are you adapting?”

That was a lot of questions that felt very close to personal information. You grew defensive. “Why do you need to know?” You accused.

“I just want to make sure you are doing well. It is very difficult for others to adapt to the water. If you are uncomfortable, I’d like to fix that.” He gave you a patient smile. Dream was offering you a different home.

“Well, thank you, sir. But my pod has been very nice to me. I will be staying with them.” You turned back towards your food. Right. There was a race going on and you were getting distracted.

“Wonderful.” Dream’s smile was in his voice. “Would you like any help hunting?”

Oh.

Oh, that was a great idea.

You gave the beautiful siren a smile. “Sure! I’m already behind and could use the help.”

The two of you collected enough fish for two Horrors, chatting all the while. You spoke of your life before the sea. He spoke of his interactions with people on the land. Jokes were traded as were laughs.

Dream followed you back to the place Killer said to meet.

“It was wonderful getting to know you, y/n.” Dream smiled happily, placing the fish in a pile with yours.

“You too. Thank you for helping me hunt. I don’t think I could have caught this many without you.” You admitted.

He laughed. “It was no problem. I’ve helped a siren before. He also was new to the sea but he wasn’t converted like you. He accidentally escaped captivity and was lost when me and Ink found him. We had to raise him like a guppy. I think you would have liked to meet him. His name was Cross.”

“Oh! You know Cro-?”

“DREAM!!!”

Dream’s expression went from fond to furious in a second as he spun towards the voice, magic pooling into his hands. Killer tackled him before the magic could form.

“You crazy! Suicidal! Shark!” Dream snapped, fighting Killer’s teeth away from his face. Dream was shockingly stronger than Killer but Killer was fast.

“Killer! Stop!” You yelled at the chaos. “It’s fine! He’s a friend!”

Killer growled and shoved Dream away. “That is no friend, y/n! Don’t trust him!”

With the added space, Dream’s magic formed into a bow with a glowing harpoon aimed at Killer. Dream growled back at the shark. “Don’t. Move. Killer.” Killer glared at the bow, his soul twitching in front of his chest. If you hadn’t spent so much time with him, you wouldn’t have realized that Killer was scared. Dream’s eyes shot to you. “Y/n. Get out of here and find your pod. I will take care of this feral siren.” Killer snarled.

You snapped. “You leave him alone, Dream! What is wrong with you two??”

Dream looked shocked so Killer answered. “Y/n. Dream attacked Boss first. We’ve fought before. He only ever hunts Nightmare through the oceans.”

“I did not attack first!” Dream said, snapping out of his confusion. “Your ‘Boss’ murdered thousands of people!”

“And you haven’t?” Killer parried.

“Of course I haven’t!!!!!” The seahorse looked and sounded insulted.

“Dream? What are you doing all the way out…? Oh.”

Everyone looked to see a third skeleton siren. This siren was colorful with a purple question mark for one eyelight and a blue octagon in the other. He glanced between the two aggressive sirens when his eyes caught on you. He blinked and suddenly his eyelights switched to a blue star and a yellow exclamation mark.

“Oh! Hello! You’re new!” The new siren chirped. He came closer to you and you saw that his lower half was a dull grey squid. A very big, striped squid.

“Ink! Get them out of here!” Dream commanded.

All hell broke loose.

Killer attacked Dream, Dream’s harpoon hit Killer’s shoulder, and a grey tentacle wrapped around your waist. You yelped as Ink sped away with you in tow.

“Killer!!!” You called out.

Killer looked up from his frenzy, white eyelights visible in terrified concern. “Y/n!!!”

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(GFL Short Fic) "A Scarecrow's emotions"

Alternative Title: WHAT IS LOVE? BABY DON'T HURT ME, DON'T HURT ME, NO MORE!

Author's Note: This was originally in a different prompt before I had a moment of realization and went "Wait a second this is WAAAY too long to just be in a headcanon!" So now it's here, and I hope ya'll enjoy! Word Count: 1.5k

To say Scarecrow struggled understanding the emotions of others was a colossal understatement.

Before she began working under the Commander and Griffin, she despised sentimentality. Thanks to the Protocol Assimilation however, her hatred of emotions lessened.

This did not help her understand it any better unfortunately, something she continued to struggle with.

It especially didn't help that her only other encounters with emotions was with the Commander (which was fairly recent), and Executioner, who was a loudmouth tomboy of a T-Doll.

And lastly, one human who expressed interest in her, to her complete shock.

Being from Sangvis, she and her comrades were understandably treated coldly at first from Griffin personnel, barring some of the extremely friendly ones.

Scarecrow was quite used to this, considering she barely had any respect from her allies to begin with.

And given that her entire role was scouting and data gathering, she had no need for emotions, or friends.

When Scarecrow had met (Y/N) for the first time, she was honestly annoyed and quite suspicious of them, given how the rest of the humans wouldn't even give her the time of day. (Not that she exactly needed to ask them for it)

==

Scarecrow walked out of the maintenance bay and into the brightly lit hallways of Griffin's Base, prepared to make her way towards the dorms. Before she could get much further, she was stopped by one of the engineers.

(Y/N) "Scarecrow! Um, how are you feeling?"

She turned towards them, her eyes remaining unchanged as the mask obscured her mouth, showing no visible change in emotion.

(Scarecrow) "I am operational."

Scarecrow replied curtly. She observed their movements and they seemed...relieved?

(Y/N) "Oh, good! I was worried that we may not have gotten your repairs right! I don't think I've ever worked on anyone quite like you before."

(Scarecrow) "Of course. Griffin T-Dolls are far less advanced than Sangvis."

(Y/N) seemed to struggle on how to choose their next words, though it did not seem like her statement was the cause of it.

(Scarecrow) "You are fidgeting an abnormal amount for a human. Are you intimidated by me?"

(Y/N) "...W-Well, kinda, if I'm being honest...!"

They laughed nervously, but it was cut off by Scarecrow's continued deadpan stare at them. They cleared their throat and straightened their back.

(Y/N) "But, really, I was nervous that your repairs might not have gone smoothly. I see I was worrying for nothing."

(Scarecrow) "I see."

She gave them a simple nod with her facial expressions not budging an inch.

(Scarecrow) "I recognize you are simply being polite. It is wasted on me, nevertheless I will say 'Thank you'."

(Y/N) "If something's wrong with your systems, don't hesitate to come see me!"

(Scarecrow) "Acknowledged."

Finally she began departing for her dorm, processing the conversation she just had. That was the first time anyone was worried about her wellbeing.

==

Besides the Commander, (Y/N) had become someone she visited often, though it was mostly because she wanted peace and quiet and did not want anyone to disturb her thinking.

They treated her with respect, despite the fact she was a former adversary.

The fact they were so open to trust a Sangvis Doll was stupid. Humans made no logical sense to her. And yet...something drew her to them, and it frustrated her to no end that she couldn't determine why.

This was the first time that she had interacted with humans and did not want to immediately end their lives, so the change in perspective was unnerving to her. It felt like it went against her base programming.

But she did not hate the feeling. At least, it did not feel that way.

Anytime she spoke with (Y/N), she always had her mask on them, more out of habit since that was her uniform than anything malicious.

And she knew they were always staring at it, and her eyes when they replied. She didn't know why, until a few months into their 'friendship, for lack of a better term, did she know why.

==

(Y/N) "Hey, Scarecrow?"

(Scarecrow) "What is it?"

Scarecrow replied, her tone muffled and cold as ever.

(Y/N) "If it's not too rude for me to request this, could...I see you without your mask?"

She turned to them, curiosity rising in her digimind, though her face did not portray it.

(Scarecrow) "Why? I do not possess any facial features that can recreate emotion like you can."

(Y/N) "That part doesn't really bother me. I just...want to see you, if that makes any sense."

(Scarecrow) "It does not."

(Y/N) began stuttering, trying to find a better way to phrase what they meant before noticing her irises were changing ever so slightly. They seemed to focus on their face, her hands slowly reaching for the mask and disengaging the locks.

Her lips were surprisingly soft looking, and not as rough or machine-like as (Y/N) was expecting.

(Scarecrow) "However, I will comply with your request."

Her voice was finally unfiltered from her mask, the voice sounding quite soothing to their ears.

(Y/N) "W-Wow..."

(Scarecrow) "What is so fascinating about my lips? You have seen them on other T-Dolls and humans."

(Y/N) "It's not that, it's...you're really pretty is all."

Scarecrow's eyes adjusted once again, though to what emotion it was portraying, (Y/N) couldn't tell. She looked away, staring at the ground.

(Scarecrow) "Are humans that susceptible to be allured by a simple face?"

Scarecrow noticed that they had gotten closer, though she made no move to push them away.

(Y/N) "Maybe? For me I'm...more allured by you than anything."

Scarecrow turned to face them again, her face unmoved by (Y/N)'s words.

(Y/N) "S-Sorry. That must sound stupid."

(Scarecrow) "It is. You are attracted to an android that cannot even reciprocate its feelings on the most basic level."

(Y/N) "...Reciprocate?"

(Y/N)'s shoulders slumped and looked at her, noticing that Scarecrow was staring at her hand moving to theirs. The hand wrapped around theirs, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

(Y/N) froze, and realizing that, Scarecrow moved back to her normal sitting position. She must have mistaken their shock as disgust.

(Scarecrow) "I will depa-"

(Y/N) "Wait!"

(Y/N) took Scarecrow's hands again, holding onto it tightly and not wanting her to leave. Slowly, she looked back at (Y/N)'s face as it closed in.

Their eyes were closed as they leaned in for a quick peck onto her lips, scrambling everything in Scarecrow's digimind.

Her eyes rapidly adjusted themselves as she was trying to process what exactly she was feeling. The sensation of (Y/N)'s lips, their emotions, her own, everything was so overwhelming.

Scarecrow remained still for a couple seconds before looking back up to (Y/N).

(Scarecrow) "...I still do not understand why you feel such attraction for a mere T-Doll-"

(Y/N) "Y-You're not just 'some' T-Doll, Scarecrow! You're just...you."

(Scarecrow) "You have said that twice now, as if I can understand what you mean."

(Y/N) "It means that there's only one of you, Scarecrow. And...!-"

(Y/N) took a deep breath to calm down, trying to defend her existence against herself was riling them up far more than they had anticipated.

(Scarecrow) "I should be exactly what my name implies. Nothing more, and nothing less."

Her reply finally got (Y/N) to steady their breathing, their lips slowly growing into a smile.

(Y/N) "If that's the case, you wouldn't be holding my hand right now. That's an emotion, you know, and I've seen you show it!...W-Well, not directly, anyway."

(Scarecrow) "...I am unable to comprehend your logic, nor can I fully process what information has been given to me."

Scarecrow's grip on (Y/N)'s hand subtly got tighter as her eyes refocused solely on theirs. Their mouth did not tremble, nor did her tone even remotely change, yet (Y/N) could tell there was a sense of hesitation.

(Scarecrow) "...I request that you assist me in understanding emotions, and your faulty logic in putting this kind of faith in me."

(Y/N)'s smile grew even bigger as they leaned into Scarecrow, embracing her gently. At first she did not move, but moved to mimic their actions by raising her arms around their back.

It felt quite awkward, but it was the gesture that mattered to (Y/N). And they hoped that she would understand that.

(Scarecrow) "If I'm careless with my words, I could end up hurting others. So I just need to be a scarecrow – I serve in silence…"

(Y/N) slowly backed off and held her shoulders, her eyes blinking for the first time at them.

(Scarecrow) "But I won't be like that with you, because no matter how I hurt you, you'll always stay close to me, won't you?"

(Y/N) "…As long as you want me, I'll be here with you."

They stayed like that for a few brief moments before Scarecrow stood up without warning, confusing (Y/N). She put on her mask and simply stared back.

(Scarecrow) "Humph, just kidding."

(Y/N) "...W...What...?"

Scarecrow leaned towards (Y/N)'s head, her mask gently bouncing off their forehead. Was that supposed to be her version of a kiss?

(Scarecrow) "That was also a joke. I genuinely meant what I asked, I simply wanted to see your reaction since you can tell when I'm portraying emotions indirectly, apparently."

(Y/N) pouted and muttered something underneath their breath. They swore Scarecrow's eyes slightly raised in amusement.

(Y/N) "Way to ruin a romantic moment..."

Scarecrow offered her hand to (Y/N), her tone unchanged.

(Scarecrow) "Well, it's a good thing you'll be giving more, won't you?"

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Your Friendly Neighbourhood Cryptid

Roman is determined to prove that his friend Patton's fears of a spider cryptid in the forest was unfounded, so joined by his best friend (and maybe crush) Janus, he ventures into the forest at night. Surprisingly, the night takes a surprising twist.

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: Spider imagery, slightly creepy, and one slightly suggestive comment right at the end but nothing like, bad.

Pairings: Anaroceit

Word Count: 1336

Notes:

Hello everyone!!

This is a very short little fic for day 2 of @anaroceitweek!! This is for the prompt 'Conspiricy' which makes me think of Cryptids haha, and Cryptid Virgil is very very fun :3

This is a very silly short fic I wrote in one sitting haha - I still really like it though! I hope you do too :3

----

“Why are we out here again?” Janus drawled as he pushed back a tree branch with his gloved hand, climbing over a root in the dark. Roman shone his flashlight down so that they could see where they were walking. The forest behind the suburbs where Roman lived was fairly thick and mostly unmanaged, so there weren’t any proper paths to follow.

“You’re the one who chose to come out here with me,” Roman huffed as he climbed down a little ridge, “You didn’t have to be here.”

“Oh certainly not, but seeing your face when Patton is proven right will be worth it I’m sure,” He said with a shrug and a grin as Roman shot a glare behind him at his best friend/maybe crush. It was hard for Roman to see in the darkness, so he wasn’t entirely sure exactly where Janus was, but he was sure that he’d seen the glare. 

“Well you’ve wasted your time, then, because I’m right,” He said, hopping onto a boulder and then hopping to another one, “There are no weird creepy horrifying spider cryptids out here in this forest.”

“Careful,” Janus said, making Roman stop just before he walked face first into a giant spider web. 

“Oh haha,” Roman said, turning so he could walk around the other side of the tree the web was attached to, “Next you’ll be telling me the spider creature made that.”

“Mhm,” Janus nodded, grinning a little as Roman frowned.

Well… there were certainly a lot of webs in this forest, Roman had never actually come this deep before. He was determined, however, to prove to his friend Patton that there were no scary spider creatures in the forest out to get him. For some reason Janus, who seemed to believe Patton’s theories for whatever reason despite how unfounded they were, had come along as well. 

Roman heard something that sounded like a distant clicking and a woosh, as though something had run past. Turning to look in the direction of the sound, however, gained him nothing, even as he swept his flashlight around the clearing they were in. Other than the number of spiderwebs present, he saw nothing, and dismissed it as some kind of woodland creature, maybe a possum, those were creepy as hell. 

“I wonder what that was,” Janus said, in a tone that Roman thought sounded incredibly condescending and honestly that was just unnecessary. 

Roman shrugged anyway, though, “Probably just a regular, normal forest creature.”

“Mmmhm, if you say so,” Janus shrugged. The clicking sound was back, followed by a soft rumble and another few clicks, Roman whipped around, trying to figure out the source of the sound. 

After a long moment of silence, Roman yelped and reeled back a little as his eyes met another pair in the underbrush - a pair with piercing white pupils and softly glowing purple irises - plus black sclera, as if that wasn’t creepy enough already. 

“What the fuck…” Roman whispered as he noticed a second, third and fourth pair of the same eyes open, he took a step back and ended up grabbing onto Janus’ arm.

“Hello there,” Janus said, only then did Roman realise he was smirking, “You can come out, he won’t hurt you.”

Roman’s eyes widened as he looked from Janus to the eyes. He wouldn’t hurt it?? He was slightly more worried about the other way around, actually. 

In a way that was almost shy, the creature stepped into Roman’s torch beam, making him gasp. 

He was humanoid and tall - taller than both Janus and Roman by a long way. Roman thought he must be at least seven foot tall - he had to have been crouching before. 

His hair was pitch black, but the texture looked to be curled, almost frizzy. In the light of the torch Roman could see that his skin was mostly a light, pastel purple, through which darker veins could be seen, making his skin look almost like marble, though down his arms his skin got darker and darker - until at his fingertips it was pitch black. His limbs too were oddly proportioned, in a way that looked just ‘off’ to Roman, he looked like a person, he was shaped like a person, but his arms and legs were too long and it gave Roman an odd uncanny feeling as he looked at him. Mostly, though, he was just…. Incredibly intrigued. 

“Woah,” Roman said softly, staring wide eyed, “You’re uh… real?”

“Last I checked?” He said, seeming… weirdly nervous as all eight of his eyes blinked. Roman thought he should have probably found it creepy, the cryptid - because that’s the only thing that it could have been (Roman might have been wrong, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud).

“You’re… beautiful,” He said, to the surprise of basically everyone there as he slowly detached from Janus to approach. The spider guy looked shocked as Roman walked up, circling him before stopping to look up at him, “Wow…” He said softly.

“Wh-what?” the creature said, turning his head to track Roman but not fully turning around. Janus was smirking in the background, “Hey - you cut it out, stop smirking at me.”

“I told you he’d like you,” Janus said, sounding very smug. Roman looked back at him. 

“You were in on this?” He asked, glaring at him, “You knew?”

Shrugging, Janus walked over, placing a hand on the spider’s arm, “Well I’d hope so, considering we’re dating.”

“You what??”

“Are you gonna be surprised by everything?” The spider guy asked, tilting his head.

“Well- I- yeah, actually, I am!” He said, eyes wide, the cryptid startled a little bit, “I just found out the spider cryptid in the woods is real and apparently dating my best friend!”

“And beautiful, don’t forget that,” Janus hummed, Roman went bright pink.

“I- Oh my god, I’m sorry-” He said, looking between Janus and the thing, “I didn’t mean to hit on your cryptid boyfriend.”

With a snort, Janus shook his head, even the spider was smiling.

“It’s fine,” He said, “And I’m Virgil, by the way - um, if you really want to hit on me you can.”

“What.”

“I mean, I’m just saying, I don’t mind,” He defended, “I mean - it’s fine if not, I know you humans are weird about monogamy sometimes, but-”

“No no no - that’s not the problem,” Roman said, raising his hands, he was perfectly happy with polyamory, he’d experimented with it before in a relationship and found it appealed to him (though the lack of communication in that particular relationship had put him off a while)

“I’m okay with it too,” Janus said, “If that’s the problem, you are… fine.”

“That’s Janus talk for ‘I like you’,” Virgil translated, making both Janus and Roman turn beet red. 

“So, wait,” Roman said, putting up his hands, “Let me figure this out.”

Both of them nodded. 

“So you,” He gestured to Virgil, “Are a spider cryptid who lives out here in the woods?”

“Mhm,”

“And you,” He gestures to Janus, “Are dating him?”

“Yes,” Janus nodded.

“So…. was this whale thing just a ploy to get me out here?”

“Potentially,” Janus smirked, Roman groaned, “Well - Patton’s fears are very real, of course, and him asking you for help was simply convenient, so I talked to Virgil about it - because normally you wouldn’t have found anything.”

“He told me he had a really cute friend he thought I’d like who was coming out ‘cryptid hunting’ in the forest tonight so I agreed to actually show up.”

“And?” Roman asked.

“And…?”

“And… do you like me?” Roman asked, leaning forward a little, Virgil smirked.

“Yeah,” He said with a shrug, “I believe so, do… you like me? Janus said you would.”

Smirking, Roman nodded, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do - but uh… I’ve never dated a cryptid before…”

“Oh trust me, it’s a lot of fun,” Janus grinned, making Virgil blush a deeper, richer purple colour. Roman giggled.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 ( if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[starkstruck27]

My sixth fill for @harringrovesummerbingo!! I kinda cheated a little with this one, as they aren't technically 'walking', but I wanted to do something from a different perspective, so this is it. Prompt + Space: Walking hand in hand in public, A2 Title: Hold me Close and Hold me Fast Major Tags: None Rating: General Word Count: 1638 words Additional Tags: Photography, Closeted characters, Assumptions, Assumed relationship, Accidental voyeurism, But not in a dirty way, Secret relationship Summary: Jonathan and Nancy are working for the Hawkins Post during the summer of '84, and their latest assignment is to get pictures for the article about the new mall that opened up. While looking through their shots, though, Jonathan notices something interesting… Also on: Ao3

“Hey, Nance, c’mere a sec,” Jonathan said from across the darkroom, squinting at the freshly developed picture in his hand. It was one of many that he’d taken earlier that day at the new mall that’d just opened up, and they’d be running in the next issue of the Hawkins Post next to the article about said opening. Now they were just developing them, and then they’d pick the best few to print along with the article. But as he was looking through his shots, Jonathan noticed something he hadn’t at the time of taking the picture, and he had no idea what to do with it now, except get Nancy to take a look at it and confirm he wasn’t seeing things.

“What’s up?” She asked as she walked over, peering over his shoulder at the picture.

“Am I crazy or do you see that, too?” Jon asked, handing her the picture.

“See what, exactly?”

“That,” Jon said, pointing to the background of the picture. It was one of the ones he’d taken of the front entrance of the mall, slightly off to the left side to make the perspective seem more impressive. It was a great picture, probably one of the top contenders to go with the article, until he noticed the two people leaned up against the side of the building in the background of the shot.

“Okay, what about them?” Nancy asked as she studied the shot, trying to see what it was her boyfriend saw.

“They’re holding hands,” he said, as if there was something more to it.

“Okay? Lots of people hold hands, what’s your point?”

“Lots of people aren’t Steve and Billy Hargrove,” Jonathan said, pointing at the picture again and making Nancy look a little closer. “That is them, right?”

“I think so, but that doesn’t make sense. I know they’ve cooled down from wanting to kill each other on sight, but I don’t think they’re that friendly. Are you sure they’re holding hands?”

“Pretty sure. I mean, it’s a little blurry, but the angle certainly makes it look that way. And if they were just sharing a smoke, there’s no reason they’d need to be that close together. What else could it be?”

“I don’t know. Wow, I didn’t even know Steve swung that way, let alone that he’d go for someone like Billy,” Nancy said, lowering her voice a bit. 

“Neither did I, I never would’ve guessed,” Jon said, taking the picture back again. “So, what should we do with this, then?”

“Well, we obviously can’t run it with the story. I guess we should give it back to them.”

“Why don’t we just throw it away?”

“Because one, somebody could find it, and while I don’t think anyone would really notice and put two and two together, I don’t think we should risk it. You know word travels fast around here, and if Steve’s parents ever got wind of this, they’d probably ship him off to military school within a day. And who knows what Billy would do if anyone even dared to wonder about him. Besides, I don’t want to make assumptions, and I’d feel weird knowing something like this without them telling me themselves. It’d make things more awkward than they already are.”

“Yeah, but you remember how Steve reacted the last time I caught something I shouldn’t have on film, and I really like this camera. And I also happen to like my face, I would prefer not to have it rearranged if Billy flies off the handle.”

“Oh come on, Jon, Steve apologized for the last time, and at least this time it was an accident. He won’t go near your camera. And if you’re worried about Billy, you can hide behind me if you want. I’m sure he’d never hit a girl, it’ll be fine,” Nancy said, taking the picture and stuffing it in her purse. “Once we finish up here for the day, we’ll stop by Steve’s house and talk to him.”

The rest of the work day went by way too fast for Jonathan’s liking, he was not looking forward to confronting Steve with what he’d captured. Before he knew it, it was five o’clock, and he was gathering his things up to take home and punching out with Nancy hot on his heels. Unfortunately, it’d been her turn to drive today, so he couldn’t even pretend that he’d forgotten and taken her home, and he just had to wait as she steered her car towards Steve’s house.

The house was just as big and intimidating as he remembered it, just like the guy who lived inside. Jon had only been inside it once, at a party back in freshman year, before he realized how much he hated parties and being around large groups of people in general. But even with only one or two people inside, he was more afraid of it now then he had been then. Still, Nancy was determined to get this off her mind, so Jon didn’t argue as he followed her up to the big French doors and knocked.

“Oh, uh,” Steve said as he answered them, keeping the door open just enough that only he was visible, “Nance, Jonathan, what are you guys doing here? Is there something wrong with… y’know…?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Nancy said, smiling brightly, “May we come in?”

“Um, now’s not really a great time…” Steve said, avoiding eye contact as he scratched the back of his neck.

“It’ll only take a second, Steve. It’s important,” Nancy continued, nudging Jon, who nodded along while also avoiding Steve’s eyes. Nancy didn’t, though. She looked at Steve head on and gave him a face that he must’ve known meant that she meant business, because finally, with a quick glance behind him into his living room, he let them in. He closed the door behind them and then turned to lean against it, obviously not wanting them to go any further. 

“What is it?” He asked, getting a bit antsy as he started tapping his foot.

“We have something to show you,” Nancy said, opening her purse and making Jonathan break out into a cold sweat. Steve eyed both of them curiously as Nancy took out the picture, handing it to him and standing up straight as she said, “We took this picture earlier today at the mall, the Post is running an article about the grand opening and they wanted a visual element. But when we developed the film, we found something we didn’t know we’d captured and we wanted to do the right thing.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, glancing over the picture quickly. He didn’t see anything wrong with it.

“That’s you and Hargrove, isn’t it? You’re holding his hand,” Nancy said, pointing to the two in the background and Steve’s eyes went wide. He tried to say something but he was too panicked, and he kept looking back and forth between Nancy, Jon and the picture.

“L-look, Steve, I didn’t even know you were there when I took it! I only noticed later and Nancy said we should tell you but I was just gonna get rid of it, I swear!” Jon babbled, taking a tiny step behind Nancy as Steve finally closed his mouth and looked at them.

“He’s telling the truth, Steve,” Nancy said, “He just wanted to get rid of it, but I said we should tell you about it. I wouldn’t have felt right jumping to conclusions and especially not if I jumped to the right ones and then knew something you didn’t want me to know. So I made him come here with me to give you both the picture and the film, that way you know we aren’t trying to keep anything from you.”

“I-I, um,” Steve cleared his throat, “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, we just thought you should know,” Nancy said, smiling nicely as she stepped forward to hug him. “And just so you know, we won’t tell a soul. Make sure Hargrove gets the message too, alright?”

“I will,” Steve said, hugging her back and finally starting to calm down a little. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jon said, finally regaining some confidence as he shrugged. “Thanks for, y’know, not getting pissed.”

Steve gave a small shrug and an only half-strained smile at that remark as he showed them out, waving as he made sure they got in their car okay. Nancy smiled and waved back as they drove off, poking Jon lightly in the side as she stopped at a stop sign.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She teased, steering her car down the road.

“I guess not. I’m just glad Hargrove wasn’t there, he’d have probably beaten the shit outta me,” Jon said, shrugging again.

“Oh, he was definitely there,” Nancy said.

“What?”

“Yeah, you didn’t notice? Steve almost didn’t let us in, and he wouldn’t let us go past the foyer, there was obviously someone else there. And I saw his shoes by the door.”

“Shit, do you think he’ll come after us for this?”

“I doubt it. He has no reason to now that Steve has the pictures. Besides, you were worried about Steve, but he’s changed from the person he was two years ago. Maybe he’s helping Billy to change from the person he was when he first moved here,” Nancy shrugged.

“Maybe. I hope you’re right,” Jonathan said, shrugging as well.

“I am. I know Steve, and he wouldn’t date anyone who would hurt the people he cares about. And if Billy does end up coming after us, I’ll protect you,” Nancy grinned, taking Jonathan’s hand and squeezing it.

“I’m holding you to that,” he said, but he smiled and squeezed back.

[mcflymemes]

GARRUS VAKARIAN PROMPTS (ME1 & ME2) *  assorted dialogue, adjust as needed

give me more time. stall them!

i want something to go right. just once.

i know you want to talk about this... but i don't. not yet.

been better, but it sure is good to see a friendly face.

i've been thinking about what we talked about.

can i ask you something?

as if we needed more reasons to avoid touching things in here.

i brought wine.

we can disobey suicidal orders? why wasn't i told?

i just don't see the point in staying quiet and polite.

i want to know i did the right thing.

throw me a line here.

damn, saying it that way doesn't help.

your hair looks... good. and your waist is... very supportive.

it was my own damn fault.

there's more to it than that.

more than one way to work off stress, i guess.

i was hoping you'd say that.

i like to expect the worst. there's a small chance i'll be pleasantly surprised.

it's so much easier to see the world in black and white. gray... i don't know what to do with gray.

i didn't think you'd feel like sparring.

let's get going. i need some distance from this place.

i'm fit for duty whenever you need me.

it's not a perfect plan, but it's a plan.

you're kicking ass.

one of my people betrayed me.

thanks for coming by.

you realize this plan has me walking into hell, too.

you were taking your sweet time. i needed to get you moving.

all i have to do is point my gun and shoot.

now i feel dirty and clinical.

i've seen so many things go wrong.

i thought you were dead.

some women find facial scars attractive.

everyone i talk to is polite, anyway.

looks like that's all of them.

are we crazy to even be thinking about this?

why do people always assume we enjoy putting ourselves in harm's way?

i'll be here if you need me.

i'm with you regardless.

i came across something suspicious.

something about him rubs me the wrong way.

i can't find any hard evidence.

do things right, or don't do them at all.

maybe they'll listen to you.

wait. that metaphor just went somewhere horrible.

i think i preferred blind optimism.

my face is barely holding together as it is.

i'll make you a deal. you get me out of here alive, and i'll tell you the whole damn thing.

never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.

i've got some things to take care of.

i gave them hope, and now they're dead. shows what i know.

i just couldn't take it anymore.

it wasn't easy. i really had to work at it.

you can count on me.

i don't need you to agree with me, but i'd like your help.

don't make me laugh, damn it.

this wasn't covered in my training manuals.

yeah, i see your point.

the damn bureaucrats are always on your back.

there wasn't time to think! i just reacted!

are you hurt?

just like old times.

nobody would give me a mirror. how bad is it?

tough bastards. but i've seen worse.

you can do what you do best.

i am amazed that they teamed up to fight me.

they wouldn't listen.

i wish i had your confidence.

there were several reasons, i guess.

i'm right behind you.

an eye for an eye, a life for a life.

i've seen some interesting things.

they were all ignoring you and hitting on me. 'bout time you got a fair shot.

take me with you when you go.

you don't ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. nervous, yes, but never uncomfortable.

well... i guess we're done here.

need me for something?

don't worry. we're all working together.

this is your show.

i'm coming with you.

they're coming in through the doors.

that's pretty... extreme.

half of us don't even trust you.

damn it. they've breached the lower level.

i'll stay up here. i can do a lot of damage from this vantage point.

that's sort of why i teamed up with you.

i wanted to fight injustice, wanted to help people.

i knew what was really going on.

and here i thought i had my betrayal and attempted murder for this year.

thanks for bringing me on board.

well... why the hell not?

if there's anything else i can do to help... anything. just tell me what you want me to do and i'll do it.

you better get down there.

now's not the best time to become an optimist.

i know what they're like.

you're free to handle things your way.

sometimes it feels like the rules are only there to stop me from doing my work.

if we can figure out a way to make it work... then... yeah. definitely.

let's see what they're up to.

figured i could do more good on my own.

turns out there was more going on than we first realized.

if i'm trying to take down a suspect, it shouldn't matter how i do it, so long as i do it.

that's why i left.

people here needed someone to believe in.

you prove that you get things done, and people join up.

they must really hate me.

this isn't about that. this is about us.

i wish we'd joined up with them sooner.

well, they had to use their brains eventually.

i guess my father had something to do with it, too.

either way, i plan to make the most of this.

maybe i can get the job done my way for a change.

i know you're doing everything you can.

do you really think there's more to know?

it's just a name the locals gave me.

glad to see you haven't changed.

you're about the only friend i've got left in this screwed up galaxy.

at least it's not hard to find criminals here.

i can't exactly doubt your judgement.

i appreciate you taking the time to help me.

they never stood a chance.

there's nobody in this galaxy i respect more than you.

i know you can find something a little closer to home.

[dudeshusband]

Title: To Tame a Lion

Word Count: 750

Ship: Mike/Pete Nelson

Description: For the safeshiptember day 1 prompt "first date/meeting." I've done a meeting.

With the limited profit Clyde Brent Circus had been making, it had been quite some time since anyone new had been hired. This is what struck Mike immediately about the curly-headed man and his goofy friend. Word around the other employees was that whichever was named Jerry had been hired as a lion tamer. Looking the two over as they received their blue jumpsuits, Mike could only figure it was the curly-headed one. He appeared at first glance to be stronger, braver, and less goofy than his friend.

The pair left to put on the jumpsuits, and when they returned they were assigned to clean by the elephants, a job Mike had often done. 

Mike approached the pair. “Hi! I’ve worked here for some time now and I can show you where the elephants are if you like.” 

On closer look, it seemed that the curly-headed one had brown eyes, very beautiful brown eyes. 

“You must be Jerry, right?” Mike asked. “The lion tamer?” 

He laughed. His eyes crinkled when he laughed, which somehow made them prettier. “Oh, no, he’s Jerry. I’m Pete.” 

Mike looked at Jerry. He had a goofy but friendly smile and did not seem to have a lion tamer’s disposition. “You’re the lion tamer?” 

Jerry nodded. “For now! I’m going to be a clown.” 

“We already have our clowns,” Mike said. “Puffo’s our main one.” 

“He’s a better clown,” Pete said confidently “He’ll show you.”

Mike shared Pete’s smile. “I’d like to see that. Anyway, the elephants are this way, if you’ll follow me.” 

All the way there, the trio picked up whatever litter they found and put into their bags. Eventually they came to the elephant tent. 

“This is one of the dirtiest areas, as you can imagine,” Mike said. 

Jerry crinkled up his nose. “Smells like elephant booty.” 

“You know that from personal experience?” Mike asked. 

That got a chuckle out of everybody. 

“Pete, why don’t you take up lion taming?” Jerry asked. 

“You kiddin’?” Pete asked, slightly incredulously. “Work with those cats? Not me!” 

Jerry made a disgruntled noise as he continued to pick up trash. 

“You got nothin’ to worry about. You got moxie. So what if they’re wild, who cares? Once you get in there, you’ll control ‘em. Even though they’re” — Pete leans in close to Jerry, cupping his mouth — “Killers and man-eaters.” 

Mike chuckled. 

“Hotchkiss!” their supervisor, Sam, yelled eventually. 

Both Pete and Jerry turned. 

Apparently Jerry was Jerry Hotchkiss since Sam approached him and demanded “Report to Colonel Schlitz.” 

“Colonel Schlitz?” Jerry asked. 

Colonel Schlitz was the circus’ current lion tamer, an old German man. 

“Oh, no! No!” Jerry said, beginning to panic. He dropped his things and took off in a sprint. 

“Hotchkiss!” Sam yelled. He bolted after him. 

“Crazy mixed-up kid,” Pete commented, while picking up more trash. 

“So, uh, Pete,” Mike said awkwardly. “Did you come all the way out here just to see your friend get eaten by lions? You don’t seem like the circus type.” 

“Well, I’m broke, I needed a job, and Jerry had an invite to work here at the circus,” Pete said. “Between you and me, I’m looking to move up.” 

Mike chuckled. “Move up? I’ve worked here for two years. Same spot.” 

He smiled. “I got my ways.” 

“Oh, if you think you’ll get over on Jill Brent, think again.” 

His eyes sparkled. “Get over on? I’m not gettin’ over on anybody. I think she’ll find I’m a great worker.” 

There was something almost suggestive in that statement but Mike couldn’t put their finger on how or why. 

“So, what did you do before you got here, Pete?” 

“I was in the army,” he said. “I was a corporal. Honorably discharged.” 

“Army man. That’s nice.” 

“What about you, huh? What’s a pretty girl doing picking up trash in a circus?” 

Mike scoffed. “Well, you’re wrong on two counts.”

“You’re picking up trash and this is a circus. So, are you debatin’ the pretty or the girl?” 

“Both,” Mike said. 

He smiled. “Well, what did you say your name was?” 

Mike internally cursed at themselves. “Oh, sorry, it’s Mike.” 

“Well, Mike, you can debate me on the girl but you can’t debate me on the pretty.” 

He gave them another charming grin then turned. As he walked away to pick up trash in another spot, Mike was frozen in a state of shock. They couldn't help but watch him as he went further and further into the distance.

Maybe he did have his ways…