#getting some serious déjà vu

[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 5 - 50 Shades of Audacity (1)

KAKASHI X ALPHA!READER

Summary: If suddenly waking up in an uncanny office had been bad, this time was worse, because you had a job interview, and the guy before you had just stormed out in tears. Why did you pick this world again? And why is your boss an asshole? And sexy? And with a nice voice? Fuck, this wasn't going to be good. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, sex while both parties are a little tipsy, workplace violations, questions about someone not eating lunch due to being a workaholic, and overuse of the world asshole as an adjective. All alphas have dicks, fyi.

A/N: Happy Holidays everyone! And a special happy holidays to those who guessed that our next omega was going to be Kakashi!!! December is well underway and I'm working hard to get all these chapters finished in time for the epilogue to be released on Christmas! The dynamic is different with this one, but I hope everyone enjoys nonetheless <333 I hope you enjoy the choice for the second character, @omeganronpa I'm honoured to call you my friend <333

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

In the span of one blink, you went from standing in the library with James, to sitting on an uncomfortable chair in some kind of office waiting room. No matter how many times you jumped between realities, you swore you would never get used to the complete sensory change that happened in milliseconds. You had changed positions, clothes, company and scenery just like that.

Trying to gain your bearings, you tried to take in your new surroundings. Your first thought was that you had some serious déjà vu, as James’ uncanny valley of an office sprung to mind. Seriously, how many times were you going to suddenly gain consciousness in a soulless office?

At least this one was a lot less creepy, you admitted. It had doors and windows for starters, but the cavernous size of the room also helped diminish the claustrophobic feeling. Rather than beige, the room was decorated in a tasteful, modern, monochrome, boring but inoffensive, and better than too much beige in your opinion.

The copious amounts of soulless corporate art on every surface were the final touches that convinced you this was a real office and not set dressing for purgatory.

The waiting room was full of people though. You hadn’t seen this many people in one place since Itachi took you into town, and the general air of anxiety coming off them all was putting you on edge.

You fidgeted, uncomfortable at suddenly wearing formal business wear. The blue folder that was sitting on your lap shifted slightly, but you paid it no mind as you straightened everything out and readjusted yourself into a more comfortable position. To your left, what you could only describe as the combination of a modern water feature and grandfather clock chimed, signalling it as 09:00 AM.

‘James? Can you hear me?’

‘I can, human alpha.’

‘Great. Can you give me a run down of this pocket dimension please? It’s been like, two weeks since I read the blurb.’

‘Of course. ’50 Shades of Audacity’ follows MC, an alpha graduate student who lands the role of personal assistant to one of the most famous CEOs of the time, omega, Kakashi Hatake. MC discovers that Kakashi is hiding a submissive streak, and together, they explore their relationship while preparing for the yearly Autumn Company Party.’

You nodded idly as James explained it, vague memories coming back to you. The man next to you shot you a weird look, and you realised you were nodding at seemingly nothing. You cleared your throat and shifted awkwardly. Whoops.

Regardless, the blurb put your current situation into perspective. When you had chosen the book, you had expected to enter the world already working as a personal assistant, but you had a sneaking suspicion that this was the job interview and all the people sat with you were competition.

To confirm your suspicion, you opened the folder on your lap, and yep, it was filled with important documents, including your CV, degree certificate, and several references. Damn, for someone decently young, you seemed to be the perfect candidate. That did relieve some of the tension. The world was literally set up to push you into the role, and you were the perfect candidate, surely there was nothing to worry about. For now, you decided to try and relax. Job interviews were a pain in the ass, but this one hopefully wouldn’t be too bad. And you could always talk to James to pass the time.

‘James, I know you must be thinking something along the lines of, ‘what kind of human picks a life where they have a job, when they could choose to not have a job?’’

‘I have never had such a thought.’

‘But I’m playing the long game, James,’ you continued, ignoring her response. ‘This Hatake guy must be rolling in it, and so once we’re serious, there would be no reason for me to work anymore! And it’s not like we’d get divorced in an erotica novel, that wouldn’t make sense, so I just need this job to meet him, make him fall in love with me, and then, if I stay here, I’ll have a fancy CEO husband, and everything will work out great.’

‘I see. I believe humans term that strategy, ‘gold digging’.’

You were planning to argue back, but your outrage died on your lips when you realised that she was kind of right. You were only going to choose this omega if you actually loved him, of course, but you couldn’t deny that the main reason you had chosen this book in the first place was the money and possibility of a cushy life. And being able to retain access to the internet which was something you’d have to give up for a life with Itachi.

‘What backstory elements are set in stone here?’ you asked, realising that the amnesia trick wasn’t going to work a second time.

‘Primarily your qualifications and educational history. You also own both a flat and a car, although how you obtained those is up to you.’

Nice, that gave you a lot of freedom to work with. Also… was your flat nice? And what about your car? You hoped so, but even if they weren’t, you could get Hatake to pay for a nice upgrade.

A man with a clipboard walked out of the office door to your left and everyone in your vicinity snapped to attention. He had brown hair and intense, dark eyes that were a little unnerving. “The interviews for the personal assistant job have now begun. You will be called up one at a time. Ren Shimomura.”

The man who had given you a strange look earlier got up and walked into the office with a confident smile, his briefcase swinging gently by his side. When the door closed behind him, everyone relaxed a little and went back to their pointless busy tasks.

‘So, James, what can I expect from this job interview?’ you asked. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared, even if the universe was going to intervene for your success.

‘That question is more difficult to answer than you might think, human. Despite this pocket dimension being one of the most popular in the erotica category, no one has ever successfully passed the interview and obtained the personal assistant job.’

Your stomach dropped. What? That couldn’t be right, could it?

You laughed nervously, sure that you had misheard. ‘What? Surely the universe needs the person to get the job.’

‘Yes, it has been causing quite the issue. This world has been scheduled for removal for being too difficult to follow. You will be the last person from your realm to ever enter this one, whether you decide to stay or not.’

‘Thanks for warning me before I picked it,’ you ‘said’, your mental voice taking on a tinge of bitterness. So, you were pretty much doomed to failure here? Great.

‘I didn’t warn you, human.’

‘I know.’

Your mental conversation ended as the door to the office opened and the man, Ren, stormed out, looking like he was holding back angry tears. He exited the room swiftly, without so much of a glance back.

That certainly didn’t make you feel any better about your chances.

Neither did your name being called seconds later.

The man with the clipboard smiled at you as you stood, folder in hand. “Just in there, Mr. Hatake is waiting for you.”

You nodded and approached the door. Right, this was fine. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself of your situation. You didn’t need this job. You wouldn’t run out of money without it, you wouldn’t get blacklisted or arrested if something went wrong, you couldn’t die if something went very wrong. The very worst-case scenario was that you bungled this, spent the next two weeks enjoying some alone time in this world, and then returned to your beautiful witch.

So, really, what reason did you have to be nervous?

With that in mind, you took a fortifying breath and walked into the office with your head held high. This CEO couldn’t scare you.

The design of the office was much the same as the waiting room, with a monochrome colour scheme and minimal furniture. The entire back wall was glass, which bathed the office in natural light, but cast shadows around the impressive desk in the middle of the room. Behind the desk was an imposing desk chair that was currently faced away from you. The back of the chair was so high that you couldn’t technically tell if Hatake was sitting in it or not. In front of the desk was a much less impressive desk chair; presumably that chair was for you.

You walked towards your chair, marvelling at how cliché the whole ‘tall chair spin reveal’ thing was. What was he, a Bond villain? The main question though, was if he’d also be accidentally flashing his nipples at you. You stifled a laugh imagining a scary CEO turning around in his chair only for the buttons on his shirt to come flying off.

“Did I say that you could sit down?” The voice came from the highbacked chair, which was still facing away from you.

The CEO’s voice was hot, you couldn’t deny that, but his attitude was already ugly. What kind of high and mighty asshole spoke to people like that? Were you supposed to just stay standing until he offered the seat when he couldn’t even be bothered to face you? Fuck that.

Suddenly, what was remaining of your nervousness bled out of you, replaced by annoyance. Honestly, you had already accepted that you weren’t going to get this job or this omega as soon as James had explained the situation, but maybe you could still get something out of this. Like catharsis. You could berate Hatake on behalf of every shitty boss you couldn’t berate in the past and then this world would still be worth it.

“Unless you’re suffering from short term memory loss, there’s no need for me to answer that question.”

Finally, that seems to goad him into turning around. The chair swivelled, revealing Kakashi Hatake in all his glory. He was dressed in the exact kind of suit you expected for someone like him, expertly tailored, incredibly expensive, and in a tasteful blue colour. Just peeking out from his collar you noticed some clear scent patches, and you imagined you’d find the same ones on his wrists. He had grey-silver hair styled in a way that must have required a significant amount of hair wax, and equally grey eyes, one of which had a vertical scar running through it. He even had a frankly adorable beauty mark, what the fuck.

Fine. He was hot. That didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole.

The look he was giving you was somehow both disparaging and uninterested, like he was looking at a badly painted wall.

“Why do you want this job?” he asked, voice bored and condescending. “You don’t seem like you’d be particularly good at it.”

You grit your teeth at his blatant disrespect, “Jobs provide the money which can be exchanged for goods and services required to facilitate survival, you see. Perhaps the silver spoon in your mouth prevented you from learning that dichotomy.” You missed your witch.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. He held out a hand, and you wordlessly passed him your folder of documents. You were honestly surprised that he hadn’t just kicked you out already. His motivations became clear however, when he picked out your CV, ripped it in half, and then tossed it in the bin.

This asshole! You were furious.

Hatake pressed a button on a raised box on his desk and began to speak into it, presumably to dismiss you and ask for the next person to be sent in.

You didn’t need this job, you couldn’t get into any meaningful trouble, and this man was royally pissing you off. Something in you just snapped.

“Tenzou, send—”

You grabbed him by his boring, blue tie and stood, pulling him partially over the desk and towards you. He gasped in surprise, letting go of the button as both hands flew up to grab your wrist. You expected him to immediately pull you off him, but he didn’t. He was still, staring at you with wide eyes. For the first time since you’d walked into his office, it felt like he was properly looking at you.

“I am the best fucking personal assistant out of any of those people out there, and I will not have some bratty CEO talk down to me, understood?”

“I’ll call security,” he said quietly, voice strangely hoarse.

“Don’t bother.” You let him go and he fell back heavily into his ridiculous chair.

“Senpai?” The clipboard man’s voice floated through the speaker on the black box. “Is everything okay? You cut out.”

The man didn’t reply to the message, he only stared at you. His face was blank, but you had the feeling that there was a lot going on inside his head.

‘Remember the story, human.’

For a moment, you thought James was encouraging you to play nice for the sake of the story, but then you realised that she meant. Fuck, that’s right, Kakashi Hatake was a secret submissive. He was probably very turned on and very confused right now. You sent him a cocky grin.

“The job starts Monday, yes?” He nodded, dumbly. “I’ll see you then, 08:00 sharp. All my documents are in the folder.” You walked to the door confidently, and just as you reached it, you turned. “Have a good day, sir.”

You opened the door just as the clipboard man tried to do the same on the other side. You paid neither him nor any of the other candidates any mind, you just strode towards the exit, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

The fresh air and sun hit you as you stepped outside into the office’s car park.

‘James, oh my god, I grabbed him by his tie.’

‘I saw, human, it was very unexpected. No other human has attempted such a method.’

‘I would so be blacklisted if this were real, James. Did… Did I do a good job? It felt like I did at the time, playing up to his submissive side, but now I just feel like I was crazy and there’s no way he’d give me the job.’

‘Only time will tell, human, I do not have the answers.’

‘Time… I can do that.’ You gazed out over the sea of cars, all shimmering in the sun. ‘Now, James, which car is mine?’

…

Once you had successfully found your nicer than expected car, you headed to your mysterious flat. It took longer than you thought, but at least you’d learnt some more about James; she was terrible at giving directions and did not know what a roundabout was.

Your flat, much like your car, was nicer than you expected for a recent graduate that worked as a personal assistant. It was stylish and cosy, with lots of wood tones and warm, textured fabrics. It could have fallen out of an interior design magazine, right down to the perfectly placed bowls of fruit. The flat even had a guest room and a home office.

You were going to put this one down to porn logic again and figure out some sort of explanation for why you had the money for this in your backstory.

After doing some snooping around the flat, you flopped down on your bed, feeling strangely exhausted. You pulled out your phone (and how strange it was to have modern technology back!) and checked the date. It was Friday lunch time, and you didn’t have to go to the job, presuming you even got it, until Monday. That meant you had an entire weekend to do what you wanted. That was the best news you’d heard all day.

‘James, is the entire world, I guess, loaded, for want of a better word? Like, theoretically, if I travelled across the world to a random village, would the people there be real? Does the world function outside of the story?’

‘Once you choose to remain in a world, it functions exactly like the one you came from, yes, complete with up to billions of people who each have their own lives. Not everything is ah, loaded, in this demo though. I would recommend staying firmly within this city for the time being.”

‘Amazing! That’s so exciting, James!’

‘If you say so.’

Alongside modern technology, staying in this world would also give you more chance to travel. With Itachi, you would be mostly going on foot, perhaps on a horse if you were lucky, but here you could be on the other side of the world in a day.

That was for future you to weigh up though, right now you needed to find a bank statement of some kind, because you wanted to spend this weekend pampering yourself and you needed to know your budget. You could think about Kakashi Hatake and this world later, once you had your thoughts in order.

The weekend passed in a blur of bubble baths, food delivery apps, and films. You’d even gone for a dip in your complex’s pool. It had been nice to recharge. You had enjoyed spending time with Itachi immensely, but you’d had almost no proper alone time for over half a month, and it was sorely needed.

The only other thing of note happened on Saturday, when you received an email from Hatake’s company, which contained your new company account and login details.

…

Walking into work on Monday was a surreal feeling that you couldn’t put into words. No one acted like anything strange had happened. You were treated like a normal new hire, which you suspected meant Hatake had kept the details of your interview to himself.

Speaking of Hatake, he was apparently in meetings all morning and so you wouldn’t see him for a few hours. You didn’t know if you were irritated or relieved that your likely awkward reunion would be postponed.

“So, here is Kakashi’s calendar, which kind of functions like the core of your job,” Iruka, the man who was training you, said. “You’ll be in charge of organising his appointments and commitments and reminding him to attend them.” The last part was added with a tone that suggested Hatake had not always been the best at either being on time or showing up at all.

“Got it. No double bookings, and smack Hatake with a ruler if he tries to escape.”

Iruka snorted, but quickly smothered the laugh with a hand. “Pretty much. For today, I’ve gone through your inbox and marked the emails that require appointments as urgent. You just need to schedule them and add them to his calendar. It’s pretty busy at the moment because of the Autumn Company Party at the end of the month, so don’t worry if everything’s a bit much. My desk is over there, so you can ask for help at any time, okay?”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” You grinned at him, and he smiled back.

“Good luck!” With that he was gone. That wasn’t the first time the Autumn Company Party had come up, but you still weren’t sure what that had to do with the plot of his pocket dimension. It certainly wasn’t as straight forward as ‘collect the potion ingredients’.

‘James, what’s the deal with this party? What’s going to happen at it?’

‘There are many, many ways the event can play out, human. Seeing that you are the first to make it past the interview, I cannot even tell you which outcomes are most likely.’

‘Damn. Well, thanks anyway.’

You ended up whizzing through your work. It was incredibly simple, which could have been because they were taking it easy on you for your first day, or because work in general was easier in porn universes. You finished before Hatake was freed from his morning meetings, so you decided to do a little googling on your new boss. As such a high-profile CEO, you were sure you could find some information on him.

You put his name into the search bar and scrolled through the top results.

There were mostly news articles and links to the company websites, but eventually his Wikipedia page popped up and you clicked on it, skimming down the paragraphs immediately. Your eyebrows kept rising up as you read. His father, the original founder of the company had committed suicide when Kakashi was four years old, leaving him an orphan. He had been immediately added to the company’s board of directors (at four years old?!), and when he’d turned eighteen and those overseeing the company didn’t seem keen to pass it back to him, Kakashi had staged a business coup and seized control by force.

Jeez, what a life story.

Closing the Wikipedia page, you opened a couple of articles instead. One was a gossip magazine speculating on his famous bachelorhood and why he hadn’t settled down yet. Another was talking about the large donations he had made to several dog and animal welfare charities. The third was just a listicle of pictures of him from various point throughout his life. Ha. He looked like he was such a cute, grumpy kid.

You had to admit that his character was perfectly set up to redeem him for being an asshole at your first meeting. Dead parents, a tragic backstory, betrayal from those supposed to look after him, an animal lover… You bet that he had been forced to supress his emotions to avoid being manipulated as a child, too. That was about as stereotypical as you could get. Were he a fictional character, his fans would easily excuse any rudeness and ruthlessly defend him online. And that was fine, but they weren’t the ones who had to be on the receiving end of his rudeness.

Ugh, you didn’t know what to do with him. On one hand, you were happy ignoring him for being mean to you in your interview, but on the other, you kind of wanted to get to know him to see what the story was about. Maybe you’d put in a bit of effort as a show of good faith, but if he insisted on rebuffing you, you’d give up and find some other way to enjoy yourself. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

Dog lovers were your weakness, so you couldn’t give up on him completely, not just yet.

You closed the tabs and, checking the time, you realised you still had some leeway before Hatake was free. You needed to come up with your backstory sharpish, because you didn’t have amnesia this time, and people would likely start asking questions about you once lunch hit. Best get your story straight first.

You grabbed a post-it note and jotted down your favourite acronym, MLHH (Money, Love, Health, Happiness), to keep you on target.  

Loving parents, you definitely wanted those. Were they the ones you wanted funding your lifestyle? Hmm, no, how about a rich, eccentric aunt that sent money all the time? Yes, you’d always wanted a fun, rich uncle or aunt to spoil you. Perhaps she had been the one to buy you the house and car. You jotted it all down. You also crafted yourself two best friends and a couple of hobbies, just to enrich your life. As per James’ instructions, you left the academic stuff alone.

“Am I paying you to write details about your own life on post it notes?” A sudden voice from behind made you jump, smacking your knees on the underside of the desk with a bang.

You laughed awkwardly as you came face to face with the man of the hour, Kakashi Hatake, who had chosen a charcoal grey suit for today, giving him an overall monochrome vibe that matched the office building. He was staring at your post it note, unimpressed.

You snatched the note and put it in your pocket. Quick, find some way to change the subject!

“I’ve updated your calendar with more meetings and commitments. This afternoon you only have a phone call with a representative from a company that sells… custom dog bandanas?” You decided not to question it. “The rest of the afternoon is business as usual.”

He watched you for a moment before he nodded, and turned to enter his office door, which was only a few feet from your desk.

“Just so you know,” he said, turning to look at you over his shoulder, “more work is periodically added to your task list, you just need to refresh the page.”

The door slammed shut behind him. You made a frustrated noise. He was so rude, with his annoyingly hot face and perfect voice. God, he got on your nerves like no one else. Ugh, you already regretted deciding to give him a chance.

You refreshed the task list and watched it fill up with new tasks.

Why did you pick a world where you had a job again? Oh yeah, you were playing the long game. The long game sucked.

You spent the rest of the workday completing tasks and flip flopping on whether it was worth trying to chase the plot and romance Hatake. Instinctually you led towards no, but when you remembered how he’d responded to you in the interview, you wavered. Ultimately, your curiosity was too much to resist, so you hatched a plan to spend some time with him.

…

“Did you have someone sneak you lunch through the window, or have you not eaten yet today?” you asked, waltzing into Hatake’s office at exactly 17:05, coat and bag ready to leave.

Hatake finished whatever he was writing before putting down the pen and giving you a flat look. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, and I’m certain I told you to knock before coming in.”

“Firstly, the workday ended five minutes ago so you’re not the boss of me anymore. Secondly, that was the clearest no I’ve ever heard. You should make time to eat lunch, you know, it’s good for you.”

“If you don’t have anything of use to say, then leave.” Ugh, why were you dealing with this asshole again?

“Actually, I do.” He raised an eyebrow at you, like he was already dismissing your message. “Get dinner with me.”

That actually seemed to catch him off guard, if only for a moment. You had honestly been wondering if the side of him you glimpsed in your interview was some kind of hallucination, but there was a flicker of that same man now. Unfortunately, although you could see that, you could also see the moment he shut down the reaction and returned to his flat, impassive stare.

“I’m busy this evening—”

“I already moved your appointment to tomorrow morning.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. You didn’t know if it was irritation at your messing with his schedule or at interrupting him, but you did know that you were getting on his nerves. Good.

“And I suppose, if you’re inviting me, then you’re paying?” he challenged. “Fair warning, I have expensive taste.”

‘James, quick, what’s the best restaurant in the area?’

‘Kakashi Hatake often visits a restaurant about two miles from here, called La Liaison. It’s French, and incredibly pricy.’

Right, you tried to remember what you’d seen you your bank details. You could definitely afford one fancy meal; it was affording everything else after that that was the problem.

Hatake’s smug face at your hesitation spurred you on. You wracked your brain for some kind of solution.

‘James, if I decide that my rich aunt sends me large lump sums of money every month, will my bank account automatically replenish by the end of this demo?’

‘Technically, yes, although it will only happen if you choose this dimension permanently, as your rich aunt does not yet exist. You must also remember to speak or write any information you want to be true for it to take effect.’

Perfect. You could wipe that smug look off Hatake’s face, live a bit more frugally for the rest of the demo, and if for some unknown reason you chose to stay here, you’d have your money automatically replenished. You just had to remember to write the details down after dinner tonight.

“Of course, it’ll be my treat,” you smiled, tips tight. “Do you like French food? I heard La Liaison is lovely.”

Kakashi studied you for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what game you were playing. Just as you thought you’d won the little verbal exchange, Hatake sent you a mocking eye smile. “And how are you planning on gaining a reservation at such short notice? The next available evening bookings are for two months from now.”

You tensed up like you’d been dealt a physical blow. Fuck, you forgot about bookings. There was no way you could allow him to win just like that, though. You took a deep breath, porn logic, I believe in you, please help me out, I’m trying to woo him, just as you wanted. Kind of.

“I’m sure it will all work out!” You voice was artificially chipper, and you could tell that Hatake was picking up on your anxiety. “Come on, what’s the harm? Let’s go!”

He watched you evenly. That was one thing you’d noticed about Hatake; he always thought before he spoke, choosing each action and word carefully. It made sense once you considered his childhood and was equal parts sad and irritating.

Just when you thought he was about to refuse and dismiss you, Hatake chuckled and stood, closing his computer and grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his ridiculously dramatic desk chair.

“I’ll have my chauffeur drop us off,” he said, walking to the door. You followed, kind of stunned that he had agreed at all. He locked the office door behind him. “There’s no parking available at this time of day in the town centre.”

You walked through the office side by side, watching your coworkers pack up or work late.

Everyone noticed you two, armed with bags and coats that made it obvious you were leaving together. There were gasps, there was gossiping, there were whispers. The man with the clipboard, who had introduced himself to you as Yamato, looked like he had seen a ghost. Was it really that strange to see this CEO leave work on time, or was it because he was with you?

Hatake paid them no mind, and you tried to do the same.

It was strange that he agreed to join you, but you didn’t get your hopes up that this meant he suddenly liked you. It was more likely that he was coming in order to force your hand. If you were humiliated by there being no tables, or not being able to afford the food you said you could, it would likely stop you from bothering him outside of work again.

You just really, really hoped there would somehow be a table.

Once you arrived at the car park, there was a sleek, black car waiting for you. You weren’t sure if Hatake had somehow called ahead without you noticing, or if his car was already ready for him, but it was very convenient. If the chauffeur was surprised that Hatake had a guest, he didn’t mention it.

The car was so obviously expensive that you felt a little uncomfortable sitting in it. You had never been so conscious of your hand placement in your life. The brat of a CEO didn’t seem to have the same problem, relaxing easily against the leather, looking right at home. He gave the driver the name of the restaurant, and you were off.

You took a moment to beg the pocket dimension that somehow you would be able to get a seat. ‘Porn logic, I’ve always loved and respected you, please pull through for me, just this once! I won’t be able to handle Hatake’s smug grin without punching him in the face.’

‘My name is James, human, and I cannot control these pocket dimensions.’

You snorted, ‘I wasn’t speaking to you James, sorry.’

“What’s so funny?” Hatake asked, breaking the silence. Oh, you had laughed out loud; you had to stop doing that. Were you also doing it when you were with Itachi, but there were just fewer people around to comment on it? Itachi seemed like the sort who would take a lot of weirdness in stride.

“Your face.”

Hatake let out an amused breath, “Are you always so childish?”

“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

“Approximately five minutes until arrival, sir,” the chauffeur said, speaking through a speaker that connected the front and back sections of the car.

“Just Kakashi is fine,” he sighed. “I’ve told you that a hundred times.”

“If you say so, sir.” Hatake rolled his eyes but dropped the issue.

The final five minutes passed it silence.

…

La Liaison was a small modern building nestled at the very end of the high street, decorated in pastel blue and covered in artificial ivy. The whole building exuded a timeless elegance that made you glad your work dress code was formal. Stepping through the doors, you were welcomed by warm lighting, live piano music, and an impeccably dressed host. This was the exact kind of place you could see Hatake fitting right in.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to La Liaison. Can I take the name on your reservation, please?”

You could practically feel the amusement radiating off the smug asshole behind you as you were faced with the exact situation he had predicted. You just had to go for it. You believed in the porn logic!

(And if it didn’t work you were going to return to your flat with your tail between your legs, make James pull you out of this dimension early, and then ask Itachi for a potion that could remove memories instead of bringing them back.)

“Ah, well, we don’t technically have a reservation, but an acquaintance of mine mentioned that they just had to cancel theirs, so we were hoping there’d be a free table.”

Please work, please work, please work.

The two seconds between your request and the host’s response felt like an agonising eternity. Failure wasn’t an option; you couldn’t lose to your awful boss.

The relief you felt when the host’s face melted into a smile almost knocked you to your knees.

“Is that so? Yes, I just got off the phone with them, you’re lucky no one else has claimed the table yet. If you’ll pass my college your coats, I’ll take you to your table.”

Yes, yes, yes!! You loved porn logic so much. It seemed like anything was fair game as long as it pushed you and Mr. Smug together. Speaking of Mr. Smug, you mouthed ‘I told you so’, as you walked to your table. He did not respond.

The table was, unsurprisingly, very romantic. It was secluded away in the corner, pressed up against a window and yet sectioned from the rest of the restaurant by a divider. The table sat two people, and its white tablecloth was covered in candles and rose petals. Of course, the cancelled reservation was for a romantic date. You weren’t going to complain though; a table was a table.

You both sat down. You briefly debated pulling out the chair for Hatake, but you decided against it at the last minute. You were both handed menus and informed of the soup of the day before the waiter left you in peace. The illusion of privacy helped you relax, despite the stuffy atmosphere.

“An acquaintance, huh?” Kakashi asked, unfolding his napkin and laying it over his lap. He obviously didn’t believe your lie.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly annoying?” you said, instead of answering his question.

“Once or twice.”

“Well then,” you shot him a sarcastic smile, “I’m glad you have such honest people in your life.”

“As am I.” The eye smile he sent you this time seemed more genuine, and you had to hold back your laugh.

The conversation faded for a moment as the background chatter from the rest of the restaurant filled the space. It was weird to be here with him, and maybe you were still riding the high of getting a table, but you were already enjoying yourself.

“So… you come here often?” you asked, picking up the menu. You supressed a wince at the prices. “It seems like you’re right at home.”

“It makes for a convenient location to dazzle those who demand such treatment before they’ll sign anything.”

“Ugh, so this is where you take people to schmooze them? Gross.” You flipped over the menu to find the drinks section, only to belatedly realise that the drinks had their own menu already on the table. “I can’t imagine you doing that successfully; you’re so rude.”

“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me.”

The way he reused your words from earlier reluctantly brought a smile to your face. Okay fine. Fine! You’d admit that he was witty, and you had some good chemistry. And he was hot. But that was it! That didn’t mean you were going to fall in love with someone so annoying!

‘I believe you were also interested in his love for dogs, human alpha.’

‘James, I’m trying to live in denial here, and you’re ruining it.’

‘My apologies. Does that mean that I should also refrain from mentioning your obvious obsession with his beauty mark?’

Sometimes, you weren’t sure that James wasn’t an elaborate troll.

Scanning the menu, you decided the vegetarian pasta looked nice. And if it was also the cheapest thing on the menu, well that was just a coincidence. This better be one of the best meals of your life.

Kakashi left his menu completely untouched. Right, he’d been here countless of times to charm people into signing away their money. He was probably treating this dinner as something similar, but with you wanting something from him instead. You doubted he’d believe you if you said you were doing this out of curiosity. But the questioned remained, how could you make this feel different for him?

Suddenly, it hit you; he liked when other people took control. You had an idea.

‘James, can you tell me what Kakashi normally orders from here?’

‘He always orders one of the seafood dishes, accompanied by a white wine.’

Right. Perfect. What you were about to do would be so out of order in real life, but you had plot armour, and honestly you wanted to see what would happen.

When the waiter returned, he directed his, “Are you ready to order?”, towards Kakashi. He probably recognised him if he was a regular, and figured he was schmoozing another hapless soul.

That didn’t fit what you had in mind though.

“Yes, we are,” you said confidently, before Kakashi could speak. “We’ll have a bottle of the Chateau Sixtine Blanc and some still water for the table. For food, I’ll have the vegetarian pasta, and he’ll have the Coquilles Saint-Jacques.”

Kakashi’s stare was intense, but he didn’t intervene. The waiter seemed taken aback that you were ordering for the table, but when Kakashi made no move to dispute what you’d said, he nodded, collected your menus, and left. You expected to be admonished in some way, but Kakashi remained silent.

Drinks arrived quickly. The waiter poured you both a glass of the wine and some water before he was gone again. Kakashi picked up the wine glasses and swirled it dramatically before taking a sip.

When he spoke, you had expected a question about how you found out his usual order, or perhaps a comment on the wine, but no, instead, he was his usual blunt self.

“I wonder what it is you’re hoping to gain from this.”

“That’s fine, you can wonder all you like.”

He sent you a measured look, “Has anyone ever told you you’re incredibly annoying?”

You grinned, “Nope!”

“I see. Well, I hope you’ll be blessed with some honest people in your life soon, I’ve found having them around to be extraordinarily helpful.”

You snorted mid sip of wine, which probably didn’t look attractive. Coughing, you looked up, expecting a judgemental look for behaving such a way in a fancy restaurant, but Kakashi just looked amused.

“Can I ask you a question?” You dabbed your lips with your napkin to soak up any stray wine drops. “What was the deal with that interview? It didn’t seem like you even wanted any applicants there. Was it just some weird form of employment hazing?”

“Simple. I didn’t want an assistant; I work better alone.”

“Then why hold the interview at all?”

“The board of directors were very… persistent. I knew they’d only shut up if I scared off every personal assistant in the city.”

You sent him a searching look, “But you hired me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “You had comedy value.”

Comedy value!? This dick.

“Liar,” you shot back. “You just think I’m hot, admit it.”

You got another one of his infuriating eye smiles. “If you say so.” God, you wanted to punch him, and maybe kiss him. Fuck.

“Whatever, just know that it’s your turn to pay for dinner next time, an I’m ordering the most expensive thing I can find.”

“If we go out for dinner too often, people will talk.”

“As if they aren’t already,” you said, referencing the sate of the office you’d left behind. You’d bet that they’d all stayed late to swap theories. “Yamato looked at us like a child who’d just walked in on his parents having sex.”

Kakashi seemed amused, “He would not appreciate that description.”

“That doesn’t make it any less true.”

As the conversation flowed, so did the wine. You were surprised by how much fun you were having. Hatake was a great conversationalist and the rapid-fire banter had you laughing out loud more than once. The food was just as good as you’d hoped as well.

To your utter delight, Hatake’s face turned pink as he drank. So cute. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to feel the warm skin. Kakashi leaned into the hand in an almost nuzzle. You did not expect him to reciprocate. Shocked, you froze, hand still on his cheek.

Hatake seemed surprised too because he suddenly wrenched himself away from you. You pulled your hand back like it’d been burnt.

You’d bet anything that he was touch starved.

“Sorry, Hatake, I don’t know why I—”

“Kakashi,” he muttered, “you can call me Kakashi. Everyone does.”

“Kakashi,” you repeated, sending him a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. You kind of wanted to lick his face.

Kakashi’s phone buzzed in his pocket, shattering the moment. Disappointingly, he immediately slipped it out of his pocket and checked the message.  You weren’t exactly surprised that he put checking his phone over your conversation, but it was still rude, whether you expected it or not.

Kakashi made an amused noise as he saw the expression on your face. “I only have audible notifications on for important people; I’m just checking to make sure nothing is wrong, there’s no need to look so offended.”

You sputtered, face heating up, “I’m not offended! I was just thinking it was rude to check your phone at dinner.”

“Ruder than ordering for someone else without their permission?”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. “You liked it.”

Kakashi didn’t acknowledge you as he checked his messaged. You watched his eyes move from side to side as he read, before he eventually barked out a laugh and put the phone away.

“What’s funny?”

“One of my friends evidently found out that I was out to dinner. He has wished us luck on our youthful endeavours.”

You pulled a face at the weird phrasing. “He sounds… interesting.”

“You have no idea,” Kakashi said before emptying his wine glass.

“People seem so surprised about this. You don’t get out much then?”

Kakashi barked a laugh that sounded surprisingly bitter, and then didn’t elaborate. In true erotica love interest fashion, there was something brewing below the surface. Touch starved, orphaned, rich, but lonely, he was about as stereotypical as it got. You wondered if he’d also killed someone like Itachi? Hmm, probably not. This was a modern universe, and there were normally more severe consequences for things like that. It would have at least been mentioned on his wiki page.

By the time you had finished eating, the city outside the window had lit up in the darkness. The traffic had died down once rush hour ended, but the occasional car still passed by. You checked your phone and realised you’d been having dinner with Kakashi for almost two hours.

Your pride didn’t stop you from admitting that the time was flying because you were having fun.

Still, it was getting late, so you waved down a waiter and requested the bill. You were hoping that, seeing as you’d taken charge with ordering, that he would… yes! The waiter put the bill down in front of you instead of Kakashi.

You grinned at him smugly; you’d been assigned dom by wait staff.

He rolled his eyes at you, but you could see the smile on his face.

The bill wasn’t great, but it could have been worse. Clearly you hadn’t managed to keep your grimace supressed completely though because Kakashi noticed.

“Having second thoughts?” He was annoyingly observant.

You had never pulled out your card faster, grateful that you’d found your pin number written down in some old documents in your flat. Kakashi watched you pay, a strange glint in his eyes.

Did he assume you were going to dine and dash and make him pay or something? No… that wasn’t it. His ears had gone red too, and not from the alcohol.

He liked it, you realised gleefully. He liked that you ordered for him. He liked that you paid for him. He liked that you had decided on the place and time and dragged him along. It fit his reaction and it fit his character.

You were certain that most of his acquaintances either saw Kakashi as some kind of aloof, ‘didn’t believe in love’ character, or as a hard dom. And on the surface, sure, you could understand why they thought that, but how could anyone continue to think so once they spoke to him properly, when he was practically crying out for someone to take care of him?

Exhilaration ran through you. Maybe you were in this for more than just curiosity now.

“Come on,” you said, standing. “It’s getting late, and I still need to get my car—Shoot, I’m probably over the limit. I guess it’s a taxi for me then.”

“I can drop you home.” Kakashi stood as well, and you both walked to collect your coats. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Thanks,” you said relieved. You needed to at least try to budget after the amount you just spent on dinner.

Just as you were putting on your coats, Kakashi’s phone ran in his pocket. Remembering what he said about only having important people on vibrate, you remained silent as he took the call. You couldn’t quite make out the murmurs on the other side of the call, but Kakashi didn’t look pleased.

“Right… Okay… And there’s no alternate route? Of course… It can’t be helped, just meet me at the office.”

Did he have a last-minute work obligation perhaps?

“Yes, okay, I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket. “Bad news, there’s been a minor accident on the road and my driver can’t get to us. We can get through on the pedestrian pathways just fine, so we’ll have to go back to the office on foot.”

“Oh, that’s not a big deal, it’s only about twenty minutes, right?” You didn’t understand why he seemed so serious about a minor hold up. Did he think you were going to be mad at him or something? Kakashi relaxed imperceptibly as it became clear that you didn’t mind.

It only occurred to you later, once you were well into the walk, that Kakashi was used to schmoozing a bunch of hoity toity rich people at La Liaison who probably would throw a fit at such a minor inconvenience. Those kinds of people were the worst.

“Why did you ask me to dinner tonight?” Kakashi asked. He spoke casually, but in a way that suggested the casualness was being used to disguise a more serious question.

You knew that he wouldn’t stop until he got an answer that satisfied him, and you didn’t want your relationship to be stained by doubts as to your intentions, so you decided to give him an answer as close to the truth as possible. If you started talking about erotic fiction, he’d probably call some kind of doctor.

“Because you seemed miserable, and I was curious about you. Figured this would kill two birds with one stone. Also, you piss me off, I won’t lie.”

“You took me to dinner because I piss you off?” Kakashi asked, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Is that some kind of fetish or is it a psychological defect?”

You squawked indignantly and tried to hit him on the arm. He dodged it, laughing.

“You’re one to talk! You hired me after I grabbed you by the tie in a job interview. That’s got to be a fetish and a psychological defect!” You shoved him on the shoulder, and he immediately shoved you back, and before you knew it, you were having a children’s battle on the street.

A random woman from across the street gave you a dirty look, you stuck your tongue out at her. Kakashi giggled, like, actually giggled, and that sent you into hysterics.

Maybe you’d had more to drink than you thought.

“You know,” you said, throwing your arm over his shoulder, “next time I take you out, we’re going to McDonald’s. It’s cheaper, and I think it’ll be funny to watch you sit there in your suit. Wait, have you ever been to a McDonald’s before?”

“I’m wealthy, I’m not an alien.” He rolled his eyes at you. He seemed to do that a lot. You couldn’t imagine him sitting in a McDonald’s. “I go every other week because my dogs like the carrot sticks from there.”

“You feed your dogs carrot sticks from McDonald’s?”

“Yep.”

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know, buying a pack of carrots?”

“No, because they like the ones from McDonald’s.”

You shook your head in disbelief. Rich people were crazy. “How many dogs do you have anyway?”

“Eight.”

“EIGHT?!”

…

Car parks at night, familiar or not, were unnerving in the way that liminal spaces always were. At least you were almost at the office doors, where Kakashi’s chauffeur was going to pick you both up. You were glad to finally get there, because as fun as the walk had been, the Autumn night was surprisingly chilly, and it was taking genuine effort to remember all of Kakashi’s dogs’ names. You were honestly surprised that the porn logic didn’t add any strange occurrences on the walk.

Naturally, the second that thought formed in your head, something happened.

As you passed round the side of a tall fence, your shirt got caught on a stray piece of metal. What would have been a minor inconvenience, barely a rip, in your old reality, was a complete pornographic disaster in this one, as every button on your shirt somehow ripped off, leaving your shirt hanging open.

The cold air hit your skin and goosebumps erupted all over your chest. Yelping, you dragged the pieces of shirt back together and held them firmly closed. Obviously, you weren’t fast enough to stop Kakashi from getting a look. The way he was pointedly looking away from you, rosy cheeked, said it all.

“Stupid fence,” you grumbled, giving it a dirty look. This wasn’t exactly the first time, or even the coldest time, that porn logic had decided to spontaneously strip someone, but it always managed to catch you off guard. Did the people who lived in erotica worlds always carry spare changes of clothes just in case?

“Are you hurt?” Kakashi asked. He sounded a little awkward, but ultimately sincere. It was nice that he’d decided to go for genuine concern over sarcasm, and you decided to do the same.

“I’m fine, it just caught me by surprise. At least it’s dark so no one caught an eye full.”

Kakashi coughed. Okay, no one apart from him.

“I’ll send a message to maintenance in the morning, but for now, I have a spare shirt in my office that you’re welcome to borrow for the evening.”

Huh, what do you know, people did keep spare clothes around. You were about to decline, citing the late hour and the fact that you were wearing a coat that you could do up, when you realised what was happening. You’d bet anything that something sexy would happen if you followed him up to his office.

“That would be great, thanks.” You weren’t going to let this slide from your grip when he was so pretty. And honestly, he was starting to seem like less of an asshole in general. He was fun, traumatised, and had eight dogs, if that wasn’t your type, you didn’t know what was.

…

Flickering the lights on in his office, Kakashi went into one of the cupboards to look for the shirt while you snooped at the ornaments he had on his shelves. Notably, there were no pictures. You picked up a weird ceramic circle statue and turned it over to see if it did anything cool.

You had passed a security guard on the way up to Kakashi’s office, that looked very intrigued as to why you two were together so late, and why your shirt was ripped open, so you resigned yourself to the rumour mill only getting worse by tomorrow.

“Are you nosy by nature or just interested in my office in particular?”

“Shut up.” You put back the ornament and turned to face him. He was holding the spare shirt in his hand. “You want to fuck me so bad, don’t deny it.”

You expected another eye roll.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he growled, watching you intensely. Oh, that wasn’t an eye roll.

One moment you were staring at him, unsure of what to say, and the next, you were crashing together, lips, tongue, and teeth, in a horny and aggressive kiss. You didn’t know which one of you moved first, you didn’t really care, you only knew that Kakashi was hot and infuriating, and you wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t make that smug face anymore.

Kissing Kakashi was giving you whiplash. He was different to Itachi in every way you could think of. He was confident, aggressive, he fought with you, clashed with you, and he seemed to determined to kiss you twice as hard as you kissed him.

It was obvious that Kakashi’s submission wouldn’t be freely given like Itachi’s, no, you would have to earn it. The challenge scratched at your instincts, and suddenly you wanted to prove to this omega that he could trust you. A good orgasm should lay the groundwork for that.

Both coats were quickly discarded as you kissed, and your ruined shirt fell off moments later.

You had been consciously avoiding his hair in fear of the amount of wax you figured he used to keep that hair style, but one weak moment, as Kakashi’s hips jolted forwards towards yours, you forgot, and ran you fingers through it.

To your surprise, your fingers glided through the soft strands easily. You were so shocked that you broke the kiss. You furrowed your eyebrows as you examined his hair.

“What are you doing?” he panted, confused.

“How the fuck does your hair stay up like that without any hairspray or wax?”

“What?” He sounded baffled. “This is just what my hair looks like. Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

The kiss resumed, somehow more desperate and aggressive than before. Kakashi grabbed your waist so hard that you could feel the pin pricks from his nails digging into your skin. In return, you made use of your new found knowledge and grabbed a handful of Kakashi’s hair.

You pushed him backwards, never once breaking the rhythm of your kiss, until his upper thighs made contact with the front of his desk. His pot of pens fell as the desk jolted, scattering the expensive pens all over the ground. Neither of you paid it any mind.

When you finally pulled away for air, Kakashi wasted no time, immediately latching onto your neck with reckless abandon. There was something feral about him that was making you hot. He didn’t hold back. You could tell that he was experienced, and he was using every drop of that experience to his advantage.

While he was distracted, you worked on undoing his buttons. It was harder than it looked to remain focused while Kakashi was doing his best impression of a vampire on your neck.

“You have way too many fucking buttons on this shirt.”

“It’s a normal number of buttons,” he murmured against your skin.

“There is literally nothing normal about you.”

“And you say I’m the rude one.”

“That’s because you fucking are.”

Eventually, you managed to undo the last button. Your noise of triumph morphed into a moan as Kakashi nipped around your collar bone. You used his hair to tug him back before loosening his tie and pushing the shirt off his shoulders.

The way his torso looked, bare but with a loose tie hanging over it, unlocked a kink you didn’t know you had. In fact, everything about him was hot. As you dragged the shirt down his arms, you could feel his muscles flexing. Kakashi was strong and broad, and he wore it so well.

You didn’t bother pulling the shirt off all the way, instead letting it bunch at his wrists, acting as a semi-restraint. He tugged at it experimentally, and when he found it restricting his movement, his pupils dilated.

You cooed as you ran your hands all over his naked torse. That’s right, he was a forceful person, certainly, but any shows of dominance were likely performative or learnt behaviours, because this man was a giant sub at heart.

You grabbed his bottom lip between your teeth and pulled it lightly. Kakashi growled at you, but you knew what he was doing; he wasn’t telling you to stop, he was challenging you. You growled back, stronger, louder, and just as you thought, his growling stopped, and his scent took on a delicious hint of submission.

“God, you really are annoyingly hot,” you growled, biting along his jaw. “Emphasis on annoying.”

“Takes one to know one,” he fired back, squeezing your waits.

“Mutual handjob?” you whispered against his skin, already undoing his trousers, before doing the same with yours.

“That the first intelligent thing you’ve said all night.”

“Fuck you.”

You grabbed Kakashi’s muscular thighs and lifted him slightly until he was perched on his desk. A stack of papers tipped over and fluttered to the ground, but that wasn’t a problem for present you, so you happily ignored the chaos in favour of the panting omega in front of you.

You took your dick out from your pants and did the same for Kakashi. They bumped up against each other, searingly hot and unflinchingly hard. You let out a whistle of appreciation at his cock. It was big, bigger than most alphas you’d met, and certainly bigger than any omega’s cock you’d ever seen. In fact, just eyeballing it, he was roughly the same size as you. His shaft was as pale as the rest of him, but the head was an angry red. It was girthy too, and it felt hot and solid in your palm.

Purposefully, you thrust your hips forward, guiding your cock against his with both of your hands. Kakashi moaned, thrusting up to meet you. He could only watch, his hands restrained as they were.

You kept your hands around the dicks, keeping them aligned as you both started to rut against each other. Beads of pre cum quickly made their appearance, which only made everything else feel that much better.

There was something deeply satisfying about what you were doing, especially because you were both still half-dressed. It made it feel desperate, like you couldn’t wait long enough to get your clothes off, too desperately attracted to each other, and had instead chosen to rub off on each other like horny teenagers.

You made out messily while you grinded against each other. Maintaining a consistent pace was a little difficult, especially as things got wetter and wetter, but you managed. There was something sexy about the chaos. The increased sensitivity from being in the erotica world didn’t hurt either.

Your moans and groans increased in frequency as you got closer. If felt like every nerve ending you had was on fire, and Kakashi looked much like you felt, covered in a thin sheen of sweat that was obvious under the hard corporate lighting.

Technically, with it being so bright inside and so dark outside, anyone who happened to glance up would have got a glimpse of you, but you were both too far gone to care.

“You love having someone take control of you, don’t you Kakashi,” you moaned, pressing your lips against his. “You’re tired of always being in control, aren’t you? The big CEO, everyone’s relying on you, but who do you get to rely on? Who looks after you? You want someone to do that, don’t you? You’re a walking, talking CEO stereotype.”

“Who says I’m going to give control to you?” he panted, licking his lips. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

“Hmm, nope, I think I’m right on track,” you teased. Already picking up on his proclivity for biting, you gave a bite in return, just shy of where a mating mark might theoretically go. Kakashi gasped, his hands straining at the shirt that restrained them. “I’ll get you to submit to me properly, one day.”

“We’ll see.”

The alcohol and the increased sensitivity were mixing together to make this tryst shorter than expected, but Kakashi seemed to be in the same boat, so you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The banter ceased as the final stretch towards your orgasms started.

As your ending approached, you bent down and sealed your lips with Kakashi’s once more. Suddenly, everything crested, and pleasure flowed over you in waves. Your thrusts got sloppy, but neither of you cared. Kakashi came with a guttural moan. His stomach muscles flexing in a hypnotic dance.

The extra cum afforded by the porn logic soaked both your dicks and your hands, staining both pairs of trousers too. It dripped onto the carpet, and if the security guard didn’t spread a rumour about you and Kakashi hooking up, one of the cleaners probably would.

Some of Kakashi’s cum had even landed on the spare shirt, so you now had a choice between a torn shirt, or one covered in cum to match your stained trousers. Great. Why did horny you always make such bad decisions?

You and Kakashi remained leaning against each other for a while, just catching your breaths and marvelling at how fast your relationship had move. You wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told you during your interview that you’d end up grinding on that asshole’s desk a few days later.

‘I would have believed it.’

‘Thanks, James.’

Kakashi opened his mouth to speak, but the door to his office suddenly opened, cutting him off. You both stiffened, snapping up to face the intruder like a pair of deer in headlights.

There, standing in the doorway with the expression of a man who was entirely done with life, was Kakashi’s chauffeur. Instead of an apology of any kind, the man just sighed.

“The car is downstairs when you are ready. Please try and clean up before getting in, the leather won’t forget these kinds of smells easily.” With that, he left, shutting the door firmly behind him.

You and Kakashi looked at each other, then to the door, and then to each other, before you both burst out laughing.

What a way to end the night.

Next Chapter

#the quest for a second life #kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #alpha!reader #alpha reader #omega!kakashi #omega kakashi #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha x omega #gn reader #sub kakashi #sub!kakashi #dom!reader #dom reader #n-sfw #reader insert

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

breaking me (not literally)

(cw: age gap 25/41; nsfw, pure smut, MDNI; biting/marking, dacryphilia(ish), d/s-dynamics, sex toys, butt stuff, restrained and gagged, overstimulation)

continuing the part before: wearing glasses

Hanging off König’s shoulder I have a déjà vu, from the first time he carried me to his bedroom last week. Not much has changed since then, but at the same time…

I get torn from my thoughts when he lifts me up, his big strong hands around my waist, and just sets me down on the bed, my front against the mattress. He pulls down my pants and I wiggle my legs to help him with it, eager to get my clothes off.

His fingers are grabbing my ass cheeks as soon as they're free, squeezing and kneading. He leans down while I shimmy back, propping my butt up, and he nuzzles his face against my clothed pussy. His nose is pressed into the damp fabric, his tongue lapping at the black cotton, drenching it even more. He pulls back a bit and I can feel his teeth sink into the supple flesh of my butt, for just a moment, leaving a little mark.

"I have to say, having your ass in my face like that is almost as good as having you sit on me.", he says. He flips me around, so I'm on my back. "But I also like to see your face because it's so pretty when I eat you out." He grins at me, the sexy smirk almost turning a bit sinister. "Especially if your make-up is running down your cheeks like today."

Right. I look up into the mirror on his ceiling. My fucking make-up. I don't wear much, but I feel naked if I leave my house without eyeliner. Eyeliner that is now adorning my cheeks. I already look kind of fucked out, just from sucking his dick.

He climbs onto the mattress, kneeling beside me, and I sit up. Wanting to kiss him again and finally get naked, but he stops me when he starts with: "Before we do anything, I also wanted to talk about something.”

“Yes?”

“When I brought some of your stuff up, I dropped the box and half of it fell on the floor.”, he explains, huffing. He nods in the direction where the box is now standing, on his dresser.

My brows furrow, wondering why he thought this was something to bring up.

“I swear, I wasn't snooping or anything, but I picked the stuff up and saw what you packed.”, he adds, lifting his hands in defense.

My face lights up when I catch his drift. “Oh, you mean the toys!” I packed a small bag with my most trusted stuff into the box with my clothes when I got everything together this morning. On a whim really, even though just thinking about using this stuff with him makes me all hot and bothered. I must have left the zipper open when I put it in.

"Yes, the toys.", he confirms. "I know they're your stuff, but I was wonderi-"

"I didn't pack them to use alone under the shower.", I interrupt him with a straight face, but a little grin fights its way through.

"So, you wouldn't mind if we used them together?", he wants to know, making sure again.

"Quite the contrary.", I say, smiling at him.

He hums, the deep satisfied sound I heard a lot from him by now, and he bends forward to kiss me. But only quickly.

"Now that we got that out of the way... Do you have a safeword? Or some word that will work as one.", he says. His eyes search mine like it’s already written in them.

"I do.", I answer. "Spring rolls." My favourite food. I half-expect him to make a comment, a joke, anything, but he just nods, all serious.

"And what if you can't talk?", he asks.

"I- That was never really an issue before.", I say, a little bit unsure now.

"Can I show you? Non-verbal ones?", he suggests.

I nod in return.

"Either pinch me or snap your fingers. That one you can even do cuffed." He demonstrates the two simple gestures, softly pinching my thigh and repeating the snaps a few times. Easy enough.

But something else got my attention. "Cuffed?", I echo. My interest is instantly piqued, and he can see that on my face.

"Yeah." He grins at me. "Restrained, tied to the bed, you know."

"I would like that.", I blurt out, a light blush creeping onto my cheeks.

His eyebrows are shooting up, he’s straightening up, rolling his shoulders back, the grin getting brighter. "Good to know.", he comments, taking my hand in his. “If you’re tied up, we can also communicate like this.” He squeezes my fingers with his. “Once means green, go ahead, twice means yellow, slow down, and three times red, stop.” I imitate the presses, feeling his strong thick digits.

He lifts our entwined hands to his mouth. “Understood?”, he asks, holding my gaze, while he softly places kisses on the back of mine.

“Yes, Sir.”, I say, earnest, but with an edge. The ‘Sir’ drawn out, the corner of my mouth turning up into a smirk.

His eyes light up like matches set ablaze as he pulls me into him and I lean forward, getting up on my knees to kiss him. He answers, slow and sweet at first, until it gets more heated and sloppier. He breaks away to pull my shirt over my head, also getting rid of my bra, his thumb and pointer snapping the clasp open, fiddling with the hooks for a moment.

He's slowly lying me down on the bed, his mouth tracing a hot trail down to my breasts to toy with them. Licking, teasing. Biting them softly, his canines leaving little marks. His hand is holding mine again, his fingers intertwined with mine, stretching me across the mattress, splaying me out before him.

I'm so distracted by his touches that I don't even realise what he is doing, until he fixes a leather cuff around my left wrist. And then the other side as well.

A pang of excitement hits me, spreading through my body, soft tingles erupting all over my skin. God damn, he'll tie me up. Like we just said.

He gets up from the mattress, revealing straps that are tied to the bedposts that I didn't see before, clasping the cuffs to them and fastening them.

"Can you still do the snapping?", he asks, when my wrists get pulled up and to the side.

I demonstrate it with a quick snap of my fingers.

"Yes, good. And don't hesitate to you use the safewords, if you feel like you need to, and I will stop in an instant.", he reiterates again.

I nod. "I will." He trusts me to tell him if he takes it too far, and I trust him to respect my limits, otherwise stuff like this won't work.

He gives me another kiss and moves down to my ankles, getting rid of my panties as well, but not tossing them aside, before he gets two more cuffs and spreads my legs to tie them to the lower bed posts.

"I see now why you have a bed like this.", I quip while I can see myself splayed out on the mattress in the mirror above.

"I don't know what you mean.", he says, feigning innocence, as he gets one of the plush pillows to place under my lower back, propping me up a bit.

"Yeah, yeah.", I shoot back. My limbs are spread, my pussy exposed, but he just doesn't dive in like I want him to, desperate to finally feel his mouth on me.

When he's done, he gets up from the bed and gets rid of his clothes, shedding the shirt and his jeans. And I can see his dick, hanging between his legs, long and thick, getting hard again, after he just came in my mouth a few minutes ago, downstairs on the couch. The piercing at his tip glinting as his length bops with his steps, and I wanna taste him again.

He stalks over to the box, the box with my things again, not before shooting me another proving look. Taking something out that I can't see because his big hands close around it. All the while I'm tied up here, waiting, needy and impatient, and he is taking his fucking time.

"You done, big guy?", I ask while he is getting something from his nightstand. A bottle of lube.

"Patience, brat." Oh, the look is giving me. "You were being so good, sucking me off, and now all I hear are complaints and bratty comments?", he grumbles, but I can see the mischievous grin behind it. A little hint that he's not really cross with me, just leaning into our little games.

"Well, you know, I'm more well behaved when I'm satisfied, but somebody broke the bed this morning instead of makin-", I start again.

"That's it, no more talking for you.", he states, grabs my panties and stuffs them into my mouth. Pushing the fabric inside with his fingers until I can't talk anymore.

He pulls back, a smirk fighting through the serious expression. "Better.", he says, looking down at me.

My mouth is stuffed full, but he doesn't fasten it any further, so I could still spit it out easily, if I wasn't okay with it. I can see what he's doing, testing the waters.

He places himself between my legs, strewn over the end of the bed and still reaching me just fine. He presses kisses to my thighs, starting down at the knees. Taking his sweet, sweet time. Kissing up and down the one side, while his hand is slowly stroking up the other one.

When his fingertips finally coast over my pussy, I almost come, that's how wound up I am. I pull on the restraint, my mewls getting damped by the fabric in my mouth.

"So fucking needy for my touch.", he drawls, repeating the motion again before sinking one finger inside me. Oh, he likes to tease me like that, and right now I can't help, but just take it. My hips rut back and forth, with the way my legs are spread and the pillow is placed under my lower back, I can’t move into his hand, searching for more contact.

He’s moving the digit oh so slowly, my wetness spreading on it, as he slowly fucks me with it.

König bites me again. Sinking his teeth into the soft skin of my thigh. Leaving kisses and hickeys on my thighs, replacing the marks he left there before.

I come, unforeseen, when he pushes another finger in, curling them against the sensitive spot inside me. My hips buck up as I pull on my restraints. He doesn't stop, his fingers moving faster now, and my eyes roll back while my panties are drowning out my groans and screams.

I look down again, after the bigger waves have subsided. The corners of his mouth are turned up into a smirky smile, his eyes are on me, watching, how his fingers are still working themselves in and out of me. His gaze pans up, flitting over my whole naked body, thighs, hips and tummy, stopping for a moment at my tits that are moving up and down with my labored breaths, the peaks hard and sensitive. Up to my face that's adorned with streaks of run down make-up, my undies stuffed into my mouth.

"You're so fucking beautiful.", he almost purrs, his voice deep and laced with pure want. The little praise is shaking me, and my eyelids squeeze shut for just a moment. I will them to stay open, looking at him. Seeing what he'll do.

He pulls his fingers out and lifts them to his mouth, licking my juices off them. Just two quick licks, his tongue darting between them. And I whine. I just want his mouth on me. I would plead for it if I could.

But he doesn't even think about it, taking his other hand and spreading some of the wetness lower, until his fingertips are massaging my other hole. Slow deliberate circles, not dipping inside me before he takes some of the lube he got. Then he presses his pointer inside me, the digit sliding in easily with all the slick.

He is slowly coaxing me to take another finger while the thumb of his other hand is rubbing my clit. When he pushes deeper, his fingers stretching me, a zap of pleasure rips through me.

He pulls them out, leaving me empty, when he suddenly has a buttplug in his hand, my buttplug, the one I packed. Showing me the little thing, before I can feel it pushing against the puckered hole. The cool metal, the cold sensation and the feeling of fullness sending a violent shiver through me as it fully slips into me.

His fingers that were still rubbing over my clit drop lower again, roughly pushing into my pussy which swallows them up easily with how wet I am.

"So pretty with all your holes stuffed.", he whispers, his gaze panning up from between my legs and dropping back again. He pushes his hair out of his face, the long strands falling back over his broad shoulders now, before he leans down and finally puts his lips on my pussy.

His mouth sucks on my clit, and it's just too much. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, clouding my view, as his tongue presses on the sensitive nub, his fingers move inside my wetness and his thumb pushes on the flared base of the buttplug, and I come again.

He pulls back, his fingers slipping out my pussy, and I slump down into the mattress. He crawls over me, his face appearing in front of mine, his hair falling down over me, the tips of the long strands brushing over my sides, my tits. Smirking down at me, stroking over my cheek with his thumb, catching a stray tear that’s sitting there, before the hand scoots further up to the restraint. He squeezes mine, and I squeeze back, just once, to signal him that everything is okay. A go-ahead, not wanting him to stop at all and thinking he’ll finally fuck me.

He presses his lips to my cheek, but he just scoots down again, leaving a trail of kisses down my body, the soft touches sending shivers over me, the smallest stimulation making me gasp for air. My mouth is still gagged with my panties, my breaths shallow.

It's not over, something that becomes clear, when I see my vibe in his hand. Oh fuck, he is pulling out all the stops.

"Come on, you can give me another one.", he drawls, and I don't think the sounds coming out of my mouth would have made any sense, even if I wasn't gagged like that.

Still, I don't think about using the snaps a little bit, just losing myself in the pleasure. The sweet, sweet torture of being made to come over and over again. My thighs are shaking, and it gets only worse, when he places the buzzing head against my clit.

He's watching me, taking in every little bit, my writhing body pulling against the restraints around my wrists and ankles, my hips moving of their own volition. My back is arching and my head falls back.

“Schau mich an.”, he says, his voice alone getting my attention, though I don’t understand the words, my chin dropping to my chest. “Yeah, look at me, just like that, Liebes.”

His look is on me, finding my eyes that inevitably turn up again from the intense stimulation, but I try to hold his gaze. Also seeing the vibe in his hand, the device so small in his fingers as he presses it against my pussy, the familiar vibrations stoking my arousal again.

He doesn’t let up until I’m cumming again, the buzz of the vibe intermingling with my muffled moans and the strain of the leather cuffs. When the vibe shuts off, I relax into the sheets, still not taking my eyes off him.

“Good girl.”, he whispers, deep and soft, his usually furrowed brows turned-up, relaxed.

He’s taking everything away, pulling the plug out and putting the vibe to the side. I’m bare, writhing, overstimulated. Wetness is dripping out of me, covering the pillow beneath my hips.

His head dips between my legs, licking it all up, taking his sweet time eating me out. The sensations of his tongue and mouth and lips are so much more intense, the scruff of his beard against the sensitive skin almost makes me lose my mind.

By the time he gets a condom, my mind is hazy and filled with clouds and my pussy is overstimulated to high heavens.

He grins at me while he rolls the rubber down his length. "No pesky brat teasing me while I put on the condom.", he says. "Maybe I should tie you up more often."

My only answer is a whimper. He drops onto the mattress, crawling over me again. Pulling my panties out of my mouth, the fabric soaked with my spit. He lets me breathe for a moment, his thumb softly caressing my cheek as his hair falls into my face before he leans down to kiss me.

"You okay?", he asks softly.

"Mmmh, yes.", I mumble against his lips. "I'll never complain about not coming again, though.", I add, sighing.

He laughs a little. "Good.", he hums.

His dick slides into me, easily with how wet and relaxed I am. I groan, feeling so full, my pussy now clenching around his thickness. It's feeling sensitive, overstimulated and sore, but still so good. Little bits of pain that only make the pleasure so much higher. Intense, even more intense than usual. The stretch has my walls fluttering around him.

He starts to roll his hips into me and slowly gets rid of all the restraints on my wrists until it's just us two fucking again.

His hands are grabbing me, positioning my hips just how he likes it, my lower back still propped up on the cushion. His hair falling forward like a curtain. His dick moving inside me, deeper than his fingers were before, the girth filling me up.

He's going slower than usual, dragging himself out and in, his head turning up and his eyes rolling back when I squeeze down on his dick. My hands hold onto his arms that are propped beside me, my nails digging into his biceps.

And I can't believe I'm gonna cum again. The ones on his fingers and tongue, with the vibe, were different than this one. Starting so much deeper, wrecking through me, when he bottoms me out.

My eyes turn up, my mouth contorted into an O-shape, but the sounds are barely audible mewls. He leans down again, his hand tangling in my hair as he presses soft kisses to side of my face while I convulse around his dick. His moans and grunts spilling from his lips right next to my ear. My arms are reaching around his waist, my fingernails digging into the muscles on his back, adorned by black ink.

Finding my lips and kissing me, while he’s still thrusting into me, fucking me through the orgasm.

“I'm so close.”, he says quietly, his voice hoarse and deep.

“Please, I want you to come all over me.”, I whisper into the kiss. Simply saying it, telling him what I want, like he told me to yesterday.

He groans, pulling out of me in an instant, and I’m already propping myself up on my elbows, when he removes the condom. He sits back on his knees and pumps his hand a few times, then he cums all over me, moaning deeply, as the creamy liquid coats my tummy, boobs, some drops even hitting my face.

Thick ropes of cum are adorning my body as I smile up at him, sitting up onto my knees. I lean forward, licking the last of it from the tip of his dick, which makes him shake a bit because it's sensitive.

He pulls back and bows down, his hand grabbing my neck softly to pull me in before pressing his lips to mine. I hum into the kiss, feeling the little possessive gesture. When he pulls back, all I can do is sigh and look up him.

"Shower and food?", he suggests smiling down at me.

"Yes please." I get up from the mattress, but when the soles of my feet hit the floor and I try to stand on them, my knees buckle a bit. I stumble forward into him and his arm catches me, while I hold onto it.

"Whoops.", I exclaim, steadying myself.

“Everything okay?”, he asks, a hint of worry on his face, his other hand caressing my cheek.

“Yeah, just wobbly legs.”, I tell him, getting on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Somebody made up for breaking the bed and really did a number on me.”, I tell him.

“Yeah, he did?”, he asks, dropping another kiss onto my lips.

“Mhm.”, I mumble.

I wobble into the bathroom, my legs shaking a little bit, while he is putting new sheets onto the mattress. I make my way to the shower and catch a glimpse of myself. Black streaks down my cheeks, my makeup completely gone.

My tits and stomach wet and shiny from his cum against the soft skin. The grin on my face. The stupidly bright grin on my fucked-out face.

König passes me, his butt naked frame between me and the mirror, his broad hairy chest right in front of me. “Come on, sweetcheeks.”, he says, patting my butt. “Gotta get you cleaned up.” And pulling me with him into the shower.

After we've showered, we order something to eat, sitting back on the couch right where we started.

His glasses are placed on his nose again, the nose that has been broken at least twice. Our hair is still wet from the shower, I can feel the damp strands of his long hair against the back of my hand as I’m scratching his back, stroking over his bare shoulders.

He’s just in some shorts and me in a simple t-shirt, some Chelsea Grin merch. Together we're wearing one whole outfit.

I sit on his lap, both of us looking at the screen of his phone, the device so small in his hands, picking out what to eat. He is just adding everything that sounds good. So, basically everything.

This day started with him breaking my bed and now I'm staying at his place and chilling with him on the couch after he fucked my brains out. Once again.

Exclusively dating him now, even though he has to leave at some point to go on his next mission. Something that stirs a little in my stomach. But it is what it is.

I look at him, my eyes taking in the serious expression on his face while he adds another portion of spring rolls to the cart because I like them so much. The corner of his mouth turns up into a little smile while his eyes behind the glasses are still fixed on the phone screen. My fingers push back one strand of his long hair hanging into his face, the tips brushing over the stubble on his jaw, before I press a kiss onto his cheek.

You know what? I still wouldn't have it any other way.

How did the two cuties end up here? Check out the next chapter: lazy evenings or the full story in the Masterlist ~

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

[neoarchipelago]

I'm out here getting pissed again...

This fandom, is SO problematic it's becoming déjà vu.

So after the whole, let's harass minors who read smut until they leave the platform (ya'll didn't learn shit with what happened with Inquisitor did you?) , now it's let's all group up together as a small army of Karen little bitches and go report blogs who post tags of 'dubcon or noncon'.

Ok hear me out you Wish version of the Justice league,

How low, and shitty is you life, how much time in your hands do you have to decide to sit your ass down in a little club and actually take time to go through blogs to report them.

Well I'll tell you what Batman, it's pointless.

People simply forget that, if you don't want to read, just don't. The tags are here, you read them you go 'nope, this will be triggering' and you scroll. (You take your finger and swipe up, yes it works)

This fandom has become just toxic. We've had the 'yoU dIdnT eVen PlAY thE gAme oR reAd thE cOmICs', the whole minors harassment, we had a this is z**phila when we had a octo!Konig, and now we have this.

Y'all make me think of the Karens who want to ban GTA 6 because it's not good for their kids. (While they could... You know... See it's pg18 and not buy it?) Ya'll going to report the games and the comics of Cod? There's some serious noncon on there.

Y'all are just awful. You make people want to leave this platform. I'm not trying to play the character who comes and makes a speech and everyone will rejoice, no, I'm Deadpool, I'm telling y'all are pieces of shit. This isn't about your traumas, what happened in your life, bitch I got those. But I take care of myself and don't go creating polemics or problems on things THAT HAVE BEEN HERE SINCE THE BEGINNING OF WRITING AND WITH EVERY FUCKING PLATEFORM, FANDOM, BOOKS.

You ruin everybody's fun. I wish you ill. I'm no better I agree. Learn to hack and go find some p*d*philes to report to the police. R*p*sts, abusers. Go on, do something actually good for society. Go clean the beaches, help in a shelter, bring food to the homeless... Go if you want to actually feel like you're doing some good.

A lot of us found friends, a place to escape our lives and feel welcome, loved and happy... You're ruining it.

Some of you are just bitter. And it's sad.

#fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #cod mw2 #captain price #john soap mactavish #call of duty #call of duty mw3 #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

All Falls Down - Chapter 7

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @arination99 @alyyaanna @m3llowww @gomussy @harmshake @empressdede @jeysbae @theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @raya-hunter01 @kawaiisadoglu @msbigredmachine @dietothemusic @2-muchsauce @tian-monique @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @wrestlingprincess80  @saintaquarius @bebesobrielo @venusesworld @babysyhsyh

“Hi baby,” Shanté said as she pulled herself up off the ground. “You miss me?” 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Josh seethed, stepping into Shanté’s personal space. “How did you get my address?! My fucking kids are here Shanté” Shanté shrugged and reached up to cup his face but he smacked her hand away, 

“Look, I know you said you don’t want to see me nomore, but that was just her talking right?” She stepped closer to him. “She’s making you stop talking to me.” Josh inhaled a deep breath through his nostrils and took a step back from her. 

“Shantê you gotta go, you trippin’ forreal.” Jon had stepped in between his brother and Shanté after successfully getting his nephews in the house. She sucked her teeth and mushed his face away from her which set off Trinity who had just come back outside. 

“Oh bitch you done fucked up now.” Trinity stormed towards Shanté and shoved her to the ground before getting on top of her and landing some pouches before Jon pulled her off of Shanté. Kiyana, who had come back outside also ran over and got a couple of hits on Shanté too before also being pulled off her by Josh. 

“You stupid bitch!” Kiyana yelled out as she was being carried into the house. “Don’t bring ya’ dumbass to my fucking house anymore!” Shanté pulled herself off of the ground and all but ran to her rental car and sped away from the house. 

Josh slammed the door behind him once he got Kiyana inside. 

“I want you  gone.” She seethed, pointing a finger in his face. “Pack your shit and get the fuck out!.” 

“Kiy-” He tried to cut her off but he stopped once he saw the look on her face. 

“That bitch came to my fucking house Joshua! Our fucking kids are here!”  Josh watched as Kiyana paced around the living room. Jon and Trin had taken all of the boys upstairs and he was very grateful for that because they did not need to see their mom this angry. 

“I don’t know how she got our address, Key. You know I would never put you or our boys in danger.” Kiyana rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious, Key.” She shook her head with a slight chuckle. 

“None of this would be happening if you would’ve just kept your dick in your pants. Like you really looked at that woman and said ‘yeah imma cheat on my wife with her’ “ She said, mocking his voice.  

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. He was sorry and If he could go back 4 months ago and walk away from Shanté he would. “We had a good session with Dr. Ander-” 

“Fuck Dr. Anderson!” She shouted. “That woman came to my house. Any thought of working on our relationship is dead.” She gave him one more menacing glare before making her way up the stairs and slamming the bedroom door. 

It felt like Josh was having an episode of Déjà vu as he knocked on the bedroom door to let Kiyana know he was heading to the airport and would be back home in a couple of days. It was like they were back at square one, she had locked him out of the bedroom again and was back to ignoring him and only talking to him when the boys were around. 

He knew as soon as he entered the arena for Monday Night Raw he needed to put Shanté in her place. Her showing up to his house was completely out of line and quite frankly, she got what she deserved. 

Josh groaned as he entered the men’s shared locker room and saw Joe standing there talking to a group of NIL new hires that had been asked to come to RAW

“Good afternoon to you too, Uce.” Joe said with a smirk on his face as he dismissed the group of young hopefuls. 

“Why you here Joe?”  Josh grunted as he plopped down on the nearest chair. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, waiting for Joe’s response. 

“Working, just like you.” Joe snickered at the look that Josh threw his way. “I’m not supposed to be here or somethin’” ? Josh sighed again and decided to ignore Joe. They both snapped their heads towards the door when someone started to bang on it. 

“Josh! I know you're in there!” More banging “Come out here and talk to me!”  Joe smirked and raised an eyebrow. 

“You might wanna go handle that Uce.” 

“Man, shut the fuck up.” Josh glared over at Joe before standing up and going into the hallway to talk to Shanté.

“You gotta chill, forreal. You makin’ yourself look stupid as hell.”  It was at that moment , Josh realized he didn’t know what he saw in Shanté. She was being a bog pain in the ass ever since he told her that he didn’t want to see her anymore. 

“You just stood there the other day and let that bitch put her hands on me.” Shanté whined. 

“Whoa, watch your fucking mouth.” Josh glared over at her “You came to our fucking house, where our kids were and you expected my wife to not do anything to you?” Shanté rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“So now that's your wife?” Shanté scoffed, “I coulda swore a couple of weeks ago you was pillow talkin’ to me about wanting a divorce and being with me. But now you claiming her as your wife.” Shanté scoffed again and rolled her eyes.

Joe’s eyes widened as he listened to Shanté and Josh’s conversation.  You fucking dummy, Joe thought. A divorce? From Kiyana? Joe knew it wasn’t just sex between the two of them, not with the way Shanté was acting. Ain't no woman go act that way if it was just sex. Joe smirked as he got an idea in his head and pulled out his phone to call Kiyana. 

👀

don't give up on me yet y'all

i promise all the good stuff is coming, i just need to get Joe, Kiyana and Josh in the same room for all the good shit to start.

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso imagine #main event jey uso #jey uso x reader #jey uso smut #wwe x black reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x oc #wwe x fem reader #wwe x oc #roman reigns x black reader

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8

Chapter 9: Bitter Knowledge

WC: 6741 | AO3 link

Eddie startled awake with his heart racing, the same way he had at least 3 or 4 other times since he’d fallen asleep, thankful that it appeared to be morning at last.

At least he’d managed to get some rest. 

Master of Puppets might have been working to keep Vecna at bay, but its associated memories were excellent fodder for nightmares. He’d spent the night running from horrifying vision to horrifying vision, and would swear that he could still feel the phantom teeth of a swarm of demobats going to town on his flesh—even now as he lay there in Steve’s bed wide awake running hands over his smooth unmarred torso.

Just to check, just to be sure. 

Steve was still asleep, snoring lightly right beside him. Their hands had parted sometime in the night, but their bodies had shifted dangerously closer. As Eddie waited for his pulse to return to normal, he took the opportunity to gaze openly at the other boy in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to do since he’d come back this time.

The early morning light filtering in through the window fell directly over Steve’s face, making him appear to glow with an ethereal light. Eddie first admired his thick fan of eyelashes, fluttering every so often as Steve dreamt. His gaze then followed the curve of his cheek, wishing he could trace every mole and freckle with his fingertips—or maybe his tongue. He longed to kiss every square inch of Steve’s beautiful face, actually. Lastly his eyes raked over Steve’s plush lips—lips that he knew for a fact were exactly as soft as they looked.

With great effort Eddie finally forced himself to look away before he could give in to his impulses and do something stupid and reckless, something he couldn’t take back.

A glance at the clock showed it was 7am, almost a full two hours past the last time he’d seen those flashing red numbers and yet his tape was still playing. That meant Steve had been up at some point—recently, and taken care of it. Taken care of him.

Eddie groaned internally. One night back in the same bed and he was already well past the point of no return—it was official. 

He was so in love, and he was so fucked. 

This was precisely why he was trying to stay away, to keep his heart locked up tight in a box labeled: Fragile! Do not open under any circumstances! 

He’d been falling, known it even before Steve had kissed him goodbye and shook his reality to its very core. Then they’d both gone and died without Eddie finding out what it had all meant. Had it been some kind of confused experiment on Steve’s part? Right up until the moment Steve had called out his name, and touched him with such tenderness as their lips met, Eddie had been sure the other boy was straight. 

Was it all only some shared-trauma-forced-proximity bullshit? Or had Steve, beyond all reason, been developing real feelings for him too?

Well he’d never fucking know now would he?!

Because he was afraid. Too scared to try again in case they lost to Vecna and he had to start all over—too scared to try anyway and risk finding out Steve didn’t feel the same way about him. 

How many different kinds of coward could he be?

A phone rang suddenly and sharply far too close to Eddie’s head, pulling him forcibly from his brooding. Steve jerked awake and sat up, the sound finally rousing him, and in another moment of serious fucking déjà vu, Eddie snatched up the receiver to stop the incessant noise and passed it over without a word.

The last time they’d done this, he and Steve had huddled together up against the headboard so they could both hear Jonathan and El through the phone. Now, Eddie wanted nothing more than to escape, catch his breath, think—of anything else, but most of all to stop remembering in vivid detail the line of Steve's sleep-warm body pressed up against his own. 

Scrambling out of bed he fled to the bathroom, nearly slamming the door closed behind him in his bid to escape.  

He turned the sink on in hopes the running water would mask the sound of his heaving breath as he hyperventilated—bringing his fist down hard against the marble vanity top repeatedly, until pain radiated up his arm to his elbow, then his shoulder. Letting the physical hurt ground him. 

This was so stupid. He was so—fucking—stupid. Why was he even letting this get to him? There were far more important things to be worried about than his fucking feelings. He glanced up at the mirror, frowning at his own pale, drawn reflection. He needed to get his shit together—at least long enough to get through this, to defeat Vecna and hopefully end the loops. There'd be ample time for a nervous breakdown, with a side of wallowing in self-pity, when it was over. 

He washed his face and neck with cold water, and when he felt like he’d pulled himself together enough to face the world again finally opened the door.

Steve said nothing at first. He sat on the edge of the bed drumming his fingers on his knee, a guarded look in his eyes but wearing a tentative smile. Either he hadn’t heard Eddie’s tantrum from the other side of the door, or he was going to pretend he hadn’t. In either case Eddie was grateful to not have to explain, or rather, make something up to explain. 

“The phone, um, it was Joyce,” Steve said eventually. “They got to—well, I'm not sure exactly where they are, but they got there last night and El is already hard at work. They think she’ll be ready in a few days.”

“That’s good news.” Eddie offered, still hovering awkwardly in the middle of the room, trying desperately to act normal.

“And, there’s an extraction team on the way to get Hopper.”

“Really?” Eddie perked up, for real this time. He was genuinely happy to hear it. Getting the Chief back would mean everything to the party, and to Steve. “Shit, that was fast.”

“I know.” Steve’s smile widened as he rubbed the back of his neck absently. “Maybe Owens was the right call for the job after all.”

-

It was another one of those quiet days full of waiting in the build up to the potential end of the world, but unlike before when he’d enjoyed the quiet time with Steve, now it just made Eddie’s skin itch. 

The kids were still at the Wheeler’s, keeping their distance—for his sake this time rather than Steve’s, though the distraction of too many people crammed into Steve’s living room might have been better than this. At least the girls were around to provide some cushion.

Mercifully, mid-afternoon Robin had a sudden need to make a visit home home, asking Steve to drive her and wait while she spoke to her parents and grabbed a few things, leaving Eddie and Chrissy alone for the first time since the beginning of this loop. 

With both of their respective sources of distraction gone, Eddie thought it might be a good time to check in with her. She’d been very quiet all day, even more so than usual, and the dark circles under her eyes hinted at a significant lack of sleep.

He sat down next to her on the couch where she was curled up with a paperback she’d found somewhere, staring at the same page she’d been on for at least ten minutes. 

“Hey, uh, so how are you doing with all of this? It must be a lot.” He asked carefully.

“I’m okay, I guess." She said after a moment, closing the book and setting it down on the side table. "Sleep is… difficult. I was already having nightmares, so that’s nothing new, just exhausting. It’s a lot to process. Robin has been a lifesaver though. She sits up with me when I can’t sleep, and she’ll go on and on about anything to keep me from thinking about it too much.”

Eddie almost laughed. Robin would be happy to know her ramblings were finally being put to good use. 

“I’m really glad she’s been there for you.” 

“Yeah, me too. I feel bad sometimes though, like, this is nothing compared to what they’ve all been through over the years. Robin’s been filling me in and it’s so awful. And you—honestly, I feel like I should be the one asking you if you’re okay.”

“Who, me?” He made a show of waving her off dramatically. “I’m fine, this is all just another week-in-the-life for me.”

“Eddie.” She scolded.

“Really, though.” He clasped his hands in his lap, looking down at them as he spoke. “Like, sure, it’s been hard, but—how many people get the chance at a do-over? Let alone multiple do-overs? I have a real opportunity to fix things here, and I feel like I have to be grateful for it.”

And he was that—grateful, but he was also miserable about the position he’d found himself in, a little bitter about it too. Why was he the one tasked to carry this burden? Why wasn’t it Steve, or Nancy who got to go back, who remembered? Either one of them would have been a better candidate for the job than him. He was the new guy! Nobody! He’d known nothing of the Upside Down until he got dragged into this madness kicking and screaming. 

Chrissy ducked her head down to catch his eye, and as though she’d read his mind said, “You can be grateful and still be mad about it. You’re allowed.”

He grinned, shaking his head. Damn did he love this girl. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Have I ever, y’know before, did I ever tell you what Vecna showed me?” She asked.

“No.”

Eddie had wondered of course, but knew from Steve, and now from his own experience, how personal it could be. 

“It was mostly visions of my parents and stuff. My mom, she’s awful, always on me about everything—my grades, who I spend time with, my weight, my appearance in general actually. It made me–” Chrissy shook her head, blinking rapidly as she seemed to be forcing back tears. “I don’t know why I let it affect me so much, the things she says, her opinion of me. It seems dumb, after all this.”

Eddie reached out tentatively, laying a hand on her shoulder. She gave him a half smile, leaning into the touch as she went on.

“Knowing that I’ve died—that you’ve died, it sorta puts things in a different perspective, like, what you said about do-overs? Looking back, there’s a lot I would do differently now, I think. I don’t even know how I got where I am, really. I never wanted to be popular, I just went along with the crowd, did what was expected of me—what my parents insisted on. It was easier to do that than figure out what I actually wanted, who I want to be.”

“It can be pretty scary, figuring yourself out.” Eddie offered, something he could relate to in a big, big way.

“Then suddenly I’m the head cheerleader, and Jason is captain of the basketball team—and again, it was expected that we would get together, so I did.” She shrugged, letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t think I ever even liked him, and this whole last week while I’ve been losing my mind not knowing what was happening to me, he never once noticed that I was struggling—not once! When you met me outside by the picnic table, you knew something was wrong within seconds. You cared enough to ask if I was okay, and we barely knew each other!”

Eddie ran his hand up and down her back. “I’m sorry he was an ass, you deserved better.”

She turned to him, a steely look of determination in her eyes. “I think–I think maybe I’m ready now—to be myself, whoever that is.”

“Well, Miss Cunningham, lucky for you I know all about defying expectations and bucking the system. I’d be happy to show you the ropes when this is over.”

“I’d really like that.” 

Encouraged by how freely she shared her experience with him, Eddie found himself wanting to open up too. He hadn’t spoken of his own brush with Vecna to anyone, because who could he tell really? He couldn’t talk to Steve, not now, not anymore. Robin was similarly out, for all sorts of reasons, but Chrissy—somehow he just knew he could trust her.

“Vecna… he was subtle about it when he came after me—at first, anyway. One minute I was standing in the middle of this room talking to Steve, well, fighting with him actually–”

“Fighting?”

Eddie tilted his head back and forth, waffling. He didn’t feel like rehashing those details, it was a moot point now anyway.

“We had a… difference of opinion, not important, but then suddenly he started saying these awful things to me about–” He paused, calculating how much he could share without outing Steve, so to speak. 

“Between you and me—in the last loop Steve and I got, um, very close. We shared a lot of private things with each other. I’m—” 

Eddie swallowed hard. He really was almost sure he could trust her, but that didn't mean fear didn’t sit like a lead weight in his gut when he thought about uttering the words aloud. 

“–Gay, and I haven’t been open with many people about it, but I told him, and he was really great about it.” He smiled to himself at the memory, how quick Steve had been to assure him he was safe, and how unbelievably sweet. “So much more than you’d expect.” 

Suddenly he felt her much smaller hand slide over his, and looked up to meet her eyes.

“I’m glad you told me.” She said, softly.

He pursed his lips, nodding as his shoulders began to relax by small increments. 

“Anyway, Vecna used Steve’s face and voice to say some nasty shit to me about it, and uh, it fucked me up a little to be honest. He also said he knew about the loops now, since he’s been in my head. I guess It doesn’t really change anything, but it’s unnerving as hell.”

Chrissy threw her arms around his shoulders and tugged him hard into her, their faces buried in each other's hair. He’d never been cuddled so violently by someone so small before she came along, it was kind of nice. 

“Is it weird of me to say that I’m happy we’re in this together? I mean, I hate what’s happened—but if it had to happen anyway, then I’m glad I got you as a friend out of it.” Chrissy spoke with her face still hidden in his neck, tone watery. 

“Not weird at all,” he assured her quickly, voice cracking on the words. ”I feel the same way.”

-

Steve and Robin arrived home a while later wearing matching somber expressions. After spending some time at her house they’d swung by Nancy’s to check in with the others, and learned that poor Fred’s body had been found that morning. 

It wasn’t a surprise, but Eddie still found he couldn’t concentrate on much else after learning the news, and he wasn’t the only one. All four of them were pretty subdued as they went through the motions of the night—eating some dinner and killing time until it was reasonably late enough to turn in. 

When the inevitable yawning did begin, Eddie had half a mind to beg Chrissy to switch bed buddies with him. Now that she knew he would never be interested in her–that way–and now that she more-than-likely suspected that his feelings towards Steve were complicated at best, he thought she might go for it. 

But what if his interference ruined whatever was or wasn’t happening between her and Robin? He didn’t want to be responsible for that, and so he said nothing as the two girls trudged up the stairs to their room—he and Steve not far behind.

-

Eddie tossed and turned, still ruminating on what his role in all this was, about Fred and the other victims. He tried to be quiet about it, hoping that Steve had fallen asleep already, but no such luck.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked when he’d adjusted his position for the fifth time. If only he had sounded annoyed or something, then Eddie could have snapped at him that he was fine and been done with it, maybe used the whole thing as an excuse to retreat downstairs to sleep on the couch alone, but Steve, as usual, was utterly sincere, breaking through all his defenses without even trying. 

Eddie sighed. “I was thinking about Patrick. I know Vecna has broken the pattern already, first with you last time, and now with me. But he took Fred just the same, and by that logic Patrick will probably still be next. I—maybe I shouldn't care since he’s one of Jason’s friends, and he was right there with them on the witch hunt for me that first time around, but I don’t know. It feels… shitty to not even try, to let it happen again. It’d be like I’m responsible.”

“It wouldn’t make it your fault.” Steve said.

Eddie groaned, throwing both arms up over his face.

“I just–what’s the point in re-living this shit if I can’t make a difference?”

“Hey,” Steve whispered, rubbing lightly over Eddie’s arm, instantly causing him to break out in goosebumps. "It’s alright, sometimes you can’t save everyone. You helped Chrissy, and if we succeed you’ll have helped the whole town. Maybe that has to be enough?”

Eddie had used the same logic before to make himself feel better where other lives were concerned, but on some level wasn’t that just a cop out? At least the others had gone out to look for Fred, not once had he or anyone else even considered trying to save Patrick.

Eddie dropped the arms from his face, forcing Steve to withdraw his hand.

“But this isn’t like Barb. I know how you feel about—”  

Steve stilled, sucking in a breath.

Shit. 

He’d forgotten for a second. Eddie had all this history in his head—things Steve had shared in different ways, in different times, so many conversations that the other boy would never remember having with him.

“There was nothing you could have done for her, I mean.” Eddie added quickly, relieved when Steve seemed to relax into the bed again. “It was never your fault—but this? I know it’s coming, I even know where it’s likely to happen. I wish I could at least try, but Jason would never let me near him, and even if he did Patrick would never listen to me.”

“What if I went and talked to them? I know I’m not ‘King Steve’ anymore, but I was their captain once, I think they’d hear me out. Who knows, maybe I could help Patrick and get Jason off your back somehow too.

“You would do that?”

“Eddie.” Steve sat up, inching closer, almost hovering over him as they gazed at each other. Time stood still, however briefly, and suddenly Eddie couldn’t breathe. He felt caught, as if simply looking into his eyes had given it all away, like Steve could read his every thought. “Of course I would.” 

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, rolling over and away from Steve… and his soft looks, and that soothing voice, and all his warmth. 

Steve cleared his throat. “Um, because you’re right.” The bed shifted as he too rolled over to face the other way. “We should at least try. I’ll stop by Benny’s tomorrow night when they might be there.”

-

Eddie woke to find their positions had not changed in the night. They were still back-to-back facing opposite directions, and as far away from each other as was possible to be and still inhabit the same bed. 

Nothing had ever felt more wrong, even if it was necessary. 

His tape was quiet, Steve’s too, which caused a moment of panic until Eddie turned over—gingerly to avoid waking Steve—and found that thankfully he seemed to be deeply asleep and relaxed, rather than rigid and in the throes of a psychic attack.

Eddie slid off the bed and crept around to the other side, carefully restarting Steve's tape as he struggled to swallow around the lump in his throat. Throwing caution to the wind, just this once, Eddie ran his fingers through Steve's hair, desperate to feel it one more time, hoping it wouldn’t wake him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to Steve’s sleeping form, breath hitching. “I just can’t.”

Eddie left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him and vowed to spend the rest of the day, maybe the rest of this loop, avoiding Steve—as much as he could anyway.

-

It worked surprisingly well. 

So well in fact that Eddie could only conclude that Steve was avoiding him too. He’d glued himself to Chrissy’s side while Steve did the same with Robin, to both girl’s joint annoyance. 

It was all fine enough until afternoon came, and Chrissy decided to throw a wrench into things, as well as take a page out of Robin’s book, and make an appearance at home. It was brave, considering all she’d told him the day before, and Eddie was so proud of her, even if it meant he’d be stuck here alone with Robin while Steve played chauffeur. 

The kids were slated to return that night, wanting to be together as they got closer and closer to the main event. Eddie used that as a reason to keep himself busy and away from Robin’s knowing glare—straightening up, pulling snacks out of cabinets, and gathering pillows and blankets.

“So, I think they’ll probably be back—”

Eddie flinched, startled at the sudden sound of Robin’s voice coming from directly behind him, sending the teetering pile of food packages he had balanced in his arms scattering to the kitchen floor. 

“Jesus Christ—warn a guy.”

”Sorry, touchy. I’ll stomp my feet next time.” Robin rolled her eyes, stooping down to help him pick up the fallen mess. “As I was saying, Steve will probably be home soon.”

She paused, looking at him expectedly.

“And?”

“Anything you want to talk about before they get back?”

“No.” Eddie stared at her blankly, hoping if he gave her nothing she’d drop it.

“So we’re just going to pretend everything is normal, that we’re not all choking on the sexual tension in this house?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“So you don’t have a huge embarrassing crush on Steve?”

Eddie clenched his jaw. She was baiting him.

“Nope,” he declared, popping his lips.

“Okay, cool.” She narrowed her eyes. “Chrissy then?”

“I think you and I both know she’s not exactly my type.” He admitted.

“I had a hunch, good to have it confirmed though.”

“Is it safe to say she’s more—your type?”

“That would be accurate.”

He flashed her a quick smile. “I had a hunch.”

“Glad we cleared that up.” She said, tilting her head at him. “Steve knows about me, for the record. He’s very… accepting. Just, y’know, in case you ever felt like you wanted to tell him about yourself? He’d be good with it.”

“Thanks, uh” Eddie looked away, wringing his hands. “I believe you, but I–I don’t think I’ll be doing that—not anytime soon at least.”

Robin furrowed her brow, and he was sure she had more to say on the matter but for once timing was actually on his side. They heard Chrissy and Steve come through the front door before she could open her mouth again, and he took advantage of the excuse to walk away and meet them in the hall—though Robin followed right behind him, grumbling to herself. 

The first thing Eddie noticed were Chrissy’s red-rimmed eyes. He worried for a moment but then he saw her broad, bright smile—could see how much lighter she looked, as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. 

She must have confronted her parents. He couldn’t wait to hear all about it, but before he could even ask, there was a sudden knock on the door she and Steve had just come through.

All four of them were immediately on high alert. The kids weren’t due yet, not to mention the fact that if it was them or Nancy, they would have likely waltzed right in. As Eddie watched, something moved past the frosted glass of the door’s sidelight, the blurry shape of an arm clad in the all too familiar green and white of a Hawkins High letterman jacket.

What the fuck? 

Steve waved the rest of them back, catching and holding Eddie’s gaze. He said nothing aloud but may as well have screamed at him to stay away from the door, assuming the role of protector as though they hadn’t spent all day in this weird limbo, not speaking, not even looking at each other.

Eddie didn’t like it, but he took the girls and backed away into the living room where they would still be able to hear whatever was said, but would be hidden from view. 

Steve's feet shuffled, the door creaking as he swung it open.

“Carver, what are you–” Steve began, confirming their unexpected guest’s identity.

Jason quickly cut him off. “I want to talk to her.” 

“Who?”

“Don't play dumb, Harrington. Let me see Chrissy.”

“Cunningham?” Steve asked, projecting very believable confusion. “What makes you think she’d be here?” 

Eddie was mildly impressed by Steve’s acting skills. 

“You tell me—is this your thing now? Couldn’t make it into college so you're poaching other guy’s girls to make yourself feel like less of a loser?”

“What? No!”

“Don’t lie to me,” Jason snarled. “I haven’t seen her since the game on Friday night, and she hasn’t been home once since then, until today. Imagine my surprise when I drove past her house only to see you sitting out front in your car waiting for her.”

“What the fuck!” Steve snapped. “Are you her boyfriend or her stalker?!”

There were grunts and more shuffling as both boys came into view. Jason had his hands fisted into Steve's shirt—backing him up into the wall across from the living room as he forced his way inside the house. 

“Jason, stop!” Chrissy shouted from where she was tucked behind Eddie, Robin at her side. 

He released Steve, whirling suddenly at the sound of her voice, eyes widening when they settled on Eddie.

“You!” 

Jason pointed a finger, body tensing to lunge over the threshold, but before he could move more than a step in Eddie’s direction, Steve had locked an arm around his chest holding him back. He tried to maneuver his other arm around the boy’s head, in some move that Eddie was sure had a name in the wrestling world, but Jason twisted in his hold, easily slipping out of the grip. He was free again, but the effort had drawn his attention back to Steve and away from Eddie and the girls, which, knowing Steve, had probably been his only goal all along.

Steve cocked his arm back, throwing the first punch, to Eddie’s shock—his fist glancing off the edge of Jason's jaw. It was enough to turn his head but nowhere near enough to put him down. 

Jason retaliated, landing a shot to Steve’s cheek and another punishing blow right in his eye—he was going to have one hell of a shiner later, or worse. 

Chrissy screamed Jason’s name again, begging him to stop, and tried to step around Eddie. He stopped her, gently guiding her back into Robin’s arms before joining the fight himself. 

In a few quick strides he was there, catching Jason around the wrist as he pulled back for yet another punch. Squeezing, Eddie put as much pressure around the bone as he could. It wasn’t hard to find the strength or motivation, remembering how it’d been Jason's fault that Steve died last time around.

“That’s enough,” Eddie growled into his ear. 

“Don’t touch me!” Jason shrieked, trying and failing to pull himself out of Eddie's grasp. Panic filled his eyes for a moment, then he rammed his shoulder into Eddie’s chest as hard as he could. 

The hit to his sternum shocked Eddie into letting go, losing his balance in the process and causing him to fall hard on his back to the floor. On instinct he curled himself into a ball, protecting his middle from the kicks he was sure were coming—it wouldn’t have been the first time—but they never did. 

“Get the hell out of here before I call the cops, Carver.” Steve shouted. 

Eddie raised his head to see that Steve had somehow managed to move Jason back towards the still open front door, at the same time Chrissy and Robin appeared at his side helping him up, and the three of them flanked Steve as best they could in the narrow hallway.

“And tell them what? You hit me first!” Jason shouted.

Steve reached up to tenderly touch his already inflamed eye, and winced. “It’ll be our word against yours. Who do you think they’re gonna believe?” He punctuated his point by giving Jason one last shove out the door and onto the landing, spitting blood at his feet—red splattering his white sneakers.

A look of revulsion flashed across Jason’s face, but he stood his ground, gesturing at Chrissy. “I’ll leave when she tells me to go.”

Eddie couldn’t believe it, how fucking delusional was this guy? 

Chrissy gaped, sharing his disbelief, and threw her hands up. “I already told you to go! It’s over, Jason.”

“Chrissy, baby, are you really leaving me for Harrington? Or worse, Munson?!”

She shook her head, nose wrinkling with disgust. “I’m leaving you—for me. Now get the hell out of here, and leave us alone!”

“You’ll regret this.” Jason growled.

“Right now, the only thing I regret is ever thinking you were a good guy.”

With that, Jason finally stormed off to his Jeep, the four of them watching as he drove away until the car was out of sight.

When they were safely back inside Chrissy broke down, gently weeping while Robin held her, assuring her that it was okay, that it was over now. 

Eddie went right for Steve to assess him for damage, and though it’d been a short fight he didn’t look so great. He was bleeding a little from his lip and one of his eyes was rapidly swelling shut.

“Come on." Eddie took Steve’s arm, steering him towards the stairs. He’d gone quiet the minute Jason had left and seemed a little out of it now. "I’ll help you get cleaned up.”

-

Eddie guided Steve through his own bedroom to the bathroom, sitting him down on the closed lid of the toilet—an ironic reversal of roles from the last loop that wasn’t lost on him—and crouched to pull the first aid kit out from under the sink. 

The moment he set it up on the counter the phone began to ring in the other room. He glanced at Steve, but the other boy gave no reaction, as if he didn’t even hear it. Eddie chewed his lip. He would have let it go but they hadn’t heard from Joyce since the morning before. It could be important.

He hurried out to answer it.

“Hello? Uh, Harrington Residence.”

“Oh! Eddie? Honey, it’s Joyce. Sorry I was expecting Steve.”

"Yeah, he’s–uh,” Eddie hedged. “Is everything alright there?" 

“The whole process has been pretty tough on El, but she’s doing well—she's almost ready. Owens wants to make sure we’re gone before that raid you told us about happens. They're flying us to Hawkins tomorrow, as soon as Hopper gets here.”

“No shit? He’s really—they got him out?!”

Joyce let out a soft wet laugh. “I know, it’s unbelievable. I didn’t get to talk to him yet myself, but the Doc swore to me that he’s alive, safe, and on his way here.”

“That’s great news, I can’t wait to tell Steve.”

“How’s he doing? He gets so focused on everyone else when these things happen that he forgets to take care of himself.”

“Haven't noticed,” Eddie mumbled under his breath. “He’s okay, I think. We had a minor… altercation today. Nothing Upside Down related exactly, just regular humans being shitty, but–”

“He got himself hurt, didn’t he?”

“The guy, he was–” Eddie gripped the receiver, shaking his head. “He was going to come for me, but Steve pulled him back. Got his face bashed in for his troubles.”

“Poor thing. You’ll take care of him, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” Eddie forced out through a painful tightening in his chest. “I’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

He hung up and quickly returned to the bathroom, heart dropping when he found Steve now on the floor with his head between his knees, breath coming in short gasps. Eddie threw himself down, kneeling in front of him, running hands up and down Steve’s arms—his skin cool and tacky. 

Fuck, he’d been gone for too long—never should have left him alone like this in the first place. 

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re alright,” Eddie cooed. “Hey, can you look at me—please?”

Steve slowly raised his head, blinking tears away as he looked up at Eddie with his one good eye, the other now completely swollen shut—bruise darkening by the minute. 

“There you are.” Eddie forced a smile, even though the sight of Steve banged up like this and in tears only made him want to break down too. “Take some slow breaths with me, Stevie. Can you do that?”

He had absolutely no idea what he was doing, only trying to imitate what Steve had done for him once upon a time. 

Steve gave a shallow nod, holding his gaze as they breathed together. 

“That’s it, you’re doing so well.” 

They spent several minutes just like that, the rest of the world outside this room ceasing to exist until Steve was calm and his face dry. 

When it seemed safe to move, Eddie rose to his feet, freezing when Steve’s hand shot out to grasp his. 

“Don’t–” Steve choked out.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie assured him, cupping the unhurt side of Steve's face gently with his free hand. “Just bringing the first aid kit down to the floor here so I can clean you up.”

“Oh.”

Steve let him go, watching quietly as he worked, his eye never once leaving Eddie’s face. 

He tried not to stare back, cheeks growing hot, his own heartbeat thrumming loudly in his ears as he focused on cleaning Steve’s skin and disinfecting the split on his lip.

“You need ice,” Eddie whispered breathily when there was nothing more to do and Steve was as patched up as he was going to get. He stashed the first aid supplies back under the sink, rushing out a quick, “I’ll be right back,” before escaping downstairs. 

On his way to the kitchen he caught sight of the girls cuddling up on the couch. Chrissy’s head was in Robin’s lap and they spoke softly while Robin ran fingers through the other girl's hair.  

He quietly grabbed a bag of peas from the freezer, trying not to disturb their moment, and crept back upstairs. 

Steve was right where he had left him on the floor, looking mildly more himself. Eddie gulped, kneeling again as he held the frozen bag of vegetables up to Steve’s face and tried to breathe evenly.

“Thank you.” Steve said, raising a hand up to cover his, helping to hold the ice pack in place, making his heart race impossibly faster. “And I'm sorry about freaking out.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Eddie said quickly, biting down on his lip as he took his hand away. He sat back on his heels to put a little more distance between them, the proximity beginning to make him dizzy. 

Steve leaned his head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what happened, it wasn’t even a bad fight, I just—I got stuck in my head I guess, thinking about the last time my eye got fucked up like this.”

“Starcourt?” Eddie guessed.

“Yeah.”

“You know, before it was me that Jason beat the shit out of, but what I didn’t tell everyone during storytime was how, as soon as I got here and you saw my messed up face, you brought me into this room and fixed me up—set my broken nose for me and everything. Then I proceeded to have a full-on blubbering meltdown right where you’re sitting now. I hadn’t even explained anything yet, you had no idea what I was doing here and yet you cleaned me up and talked me down from a panic attack, no questions asked.”

Steve stared at him, frowning.

“I guess what I’m saying is, I’m happy to return the favor.”

Slowly, inexplicably, Steve’s frown morphed into a smile, then into a laugh as he pitched sideways.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s so funny, Harrington?”

“I can’t believe you let me set your nose!” Steve exploded, still chuckling. “You’re lucky that was in the last loop, that shit definitely would have healed crooked.”

“But—wait—what?!” Eddie sputtered. “You said you’d done it a bunch of times!”

“No man, I’ve had It done for me before, but I don’t know what I must have been thinking! Maybe I knew you wouldn’t get it checked out so it would be better than nothing?”

“I absolutely would not have gone to the hospital, so you’d have been right about that.” Eddie replied and finally broke, laughter spilling out of him now too. It was so absurd, and maybe it was because they were tired, and it’d been a rough day in a long string of even rougher days, but their mutual hysterics built and built until they were both clutching their sides.

-

By the time they made their way downstairs the kids and Nancy had arrived, and Eddie filled everyone in on Joyce’s most recent call, minus the details about Hopper of course, though he had shared that with Steve. 

For once the pieces were all falling into place, the fight with Jason notwithstanding, and for better or worse, Eddie let himself get caught up in the hopeful atmosphere as everyone celebrated the news that in less than 24 hours their whole group would be together again. 

After a long night of laughter, popcorn fights and a movie marathon, everyone had fallen asleep wherever they landed. Nancy, Robin, and Chrissy on one couch, Eddie and Steve on the other, and all the younger teens and Erica in a giant nest of blankets in the middle of the floor.

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he’d been out when a series of loud bangs pulled him from sleep. He blinked, looking around for a moment confused until he remembered where he was. The living room was still cloaked in darkness, no light coming in through the windows, the sun only just beginning to rise.

It happened again, louder this time, and Eddie realized it was someone knocking—hard. Steve jerked upwards hearing it now too, his concerned eyes meeting Eddie’s. Instantly they were both on their feet and rushing to the door. 

It was too dark to see anything through the glass. Eddie couldn't imagine it was Jason coming back for round two, not at this hour, but Steve was apparently taking no chances—pulling his nail bat out of the nearby umbrella stand as he set his hand on the deadbolt. 

Eddie hadn’t even realized he’d brought it downstairs. 

Steve unlocked the door and swung it open, revealing a thin man with short buzzed hair standing in the doorway. He wore a dirty blue jumpsuit, and what little bare skin showed was covered in a layer of sweat and grime. 

There was something familiar about the man’s face. Eddie squinted, urging his sleep addled brain to get with the program, when suddenly it clicked.

“Hop?” Steve asked, voice trembling as he also put two and two together.

The man—Hopper, looked at Eddie curiously before swinging his gaze back to Steve, and smiled. 

“Hey, kid.”

Chapter 10

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated, and if you want to be tagged just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Permanent taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @penny00dreadful

Fic taglist: @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch @lawrencebshoggoth @stillfullofshit @lil-gremlin-things @mamafaithful @klausinamarink @starlight-archer

#steddie fanfic #time loop #pov eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #fanfic

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Got an idea

So i had this idea and i understand if you dont do it

so you know how farmer erases memories of people at the shrine?

What if a character (you can choose or do every character if you like) suddenly rememberd some of the past? Will they think it was a dream? Will they hate the farmer ?

I want to hear your opinion

Thank you regardless if you do it or not

Bye bye

Hello-hello! 👋

I decided to write about SDV bachelorette in this ask, hope it's ok. Thank you, and enjoy 😊❤️

_____________________________

Emily:

Emily can't understand why she has the same weird dream. First a stranger stands in some dark place with a stone as beautiful as the heavens, and then two unfamiliar children transform into beautiful doves and fly away from her. No matter how much the blue-haired girl tried to find the meaning in the dreambooks - to no avail. A strange sense of déjà vu occurs when the local Farmer gives her sister a prismatic shard for her birthday. The girl doesn't understand why her sister Haley hates this gift so much. This is a very beautiful stone!

A stone as beautiful as the sky, a stone... The same kind of stone the Farmer gave her when they.... got married?? But it must have been a dream. Wasn't it?

Emily had never felt a strong sense of protecting her sister before. It's... very strange.

Maru:

It's been so long since Maru turned on MarILDA and let her creation go free. And she's so glad her robot didn't forget about her - MarILDA sent a message by fax! Maru no longer remembers if she had set this feature originally or if the robot was able to set itself up, but still. Impatiently, the young inventor pulled a piece of paper from the fax machine and began to read quickly.

"Greetings, creator Maru. I hope your life with your partner Farmer is satisfying you..."

Wait, with who?

What MarILDA is writing about? Farmer's not her partner, she's..... She's.... Why can't she get rid of the idea that she didn't turn on the robot alone? Maru wanted to show it to someone, right? Someone special.

No, that's impossible. She can't have memory lapses like that... Why is Marilda convinced she's married to Farmer? It doesn't make any sense.

Abigail:

"You hit Farmer because you dreamed they were your spouse and betrayed you? Are you serious right now!" Abigail can understand her father's sarcastic tone: hitting people because she was the one who dreamed something there is utter nonsense and unjustified violence. But she knows it wasn't a dream, she knows for sure. Like broken pieces that slowly but surely became part of the whole again - her and Farmer's date, the Mermaid pendant, the wedding, the fight in the house, divorce... Their hidden smirk when they told her they didn't know what Abigail was talking about.

Since her parents wouldn't be able to help her... Well, that just leaves that strange bearded man in the tower. She has to make sure it's not all a sick fantasy.

Penny:

Penny was so happy and truly grateful to the Farmer - they decided to donate her many interesting books, which will definitely be useful for teaching the children. When they invited the young teacher into the house, she couldn't tear herself away from the cozy and beautiful kitchen design. Everything is so cute and comfortable! Not like her trailer room.... That beautiful rug, those lovely flowers, that cozy strawberry decal.

The decal... Strawberries.... That's the...

"A 'Strawberry House' theme? Something warm and inviting, right? I like that too! What a wonderful choice, my love!"

Penny dropped the books from the hands the Farmer handed her. They looked confused at the red-haired girl, whose face was overflowing with horror and tears streaming down her eyes. Without having time to ask her anything, she ran away.

"Huh, what's gotten into her?"

Haley:

"Do you have ponies on the farm?"

Haley felt paralyzed by her own question, addressed to the Farmer. She couldn't explain what it was, but snippets from either a dream or from the past flashed before her eyes:

"So you don't have a pony? Eh, boring..." "Wow! You're not as weak as I thought." "Thanks for finding Grandma's bracelet. I'll never forget that..." "You know, I'm starting to like the smell of green for some reason." "Buy a pony for our farm? Oh, thank you so much, honey! Let me give you a kiss!"

"D o y o u h a v e a p o n y o n y o u r f a r m ?"

The girl doesn't want to ask them about ponies ever again.

Leah:

"Hey-hey, neighbor! Are you home? Can I borrow a glass of hazelnut from you?"

Leah had been standing on the doorstep of the farmhouse for about five minutes now, banging on the door, waiting for the owner. While she was gazing out of boredom at the beautiful fields full of delicious crops, her gaze now stopped at the overflowing trash can. Smashed CDs, old newspaper, soda cans....

A broken wooden toy sticking out of there... with Leah's signature on it. But she didn't make any toys for Farmer, so what does that mea-

"Darling, look what wonderful toys I've made for our future baby. Isn't it wonderful?"

One insignificant detail, her broken toy. A few seconds was enough for the shocked girl to quickly recover...

.....and fly into a pure rage.

With all her might, she threw the cup at the window of their house. When a disgruntled Farmer quickly jumped out at the sound of shattering glass, they were quickly taken aback by the girl's stare. A look full of hatred, anger.

"We need to talk, dear neighbor."

#stardew valley #sdv #thanks for the ask! #sdv abigail #sdv penny #sdv maru #sdv emily #sdv leah #sdv haley #sdv headcanon #sdv headcanons

[aranarumei]

bonus hanzawa to tashiro (ft. the anomalous agate)

have you read the anomalous agate? yes? if so, this is the bonus I was talking about—if not, as long as you know what I mean by hanzawa to tashiro, this should still make sense. if you were introduced to hanzawa and tashiro as characters through the anomalous agate and that alone, consider reading this post where I explain little but talk a lot.

this bonus scene takes place between the two scenes in ch 4 of the anomalous agate. specifically, it takes place around two weeks after the first scene in ch 4 / a week before the last scene in ch 4, during tashiro's cultural festival as a third-year.

and since this exists within the context of the anomalous agate, which is written first-person and trying to emulate seigi's pov, this bonus is written in tashiro's pov, and attempts to blend my style with tashiro's first-person narration in love & passion.

ok I think I've spent enough time talking. fun stuff is below the cut!

bonus: hanzawa to tashiro, ft. the anomalous agate

Tashiro Gonzaburou, third-year. At the moment, I was experiencing a horrible case of déjà vu.

Two years ago, I’d lost so badly at a ping pong match that I’d stumbled my way into being the captain of the ping pong club. And as much as I liked the club, and had even gotten pretty good at ping pong, I was still pretty annoyed about having been tricked into joining. 

Though the former captain of the ping pong club who’d tricked me then wasn’t the former captain in front of me now, I couldn’t help but feel the way I had then—cornered. 

It was hard to pinpoint the exact reason. Maybe it was the black and red sailor uniform I was wearing. But Kuresawa had worn it just fine the year before, so even though I hadn’t shaved my leg hair, I couldn’t have looked too bad. I’d also worn this specific outfit quite a few times—we’d needed to adjust the fit, and I’d needed to practice my lines. Maybe it was the makeup I was getting done. But I’d tried some of that before, too. Getting blush dusted on my cheeks had gone almost exactly as the same as it had last time.

Almost, except for one thing: it was way too quiet. The guy sitting in front of me, Hanzawa Masato, was probably used to that kind of thing. In fact, he was the type to take a normal silence, extend it until I felt awkward, and then mercilessly tease me whenever I blurted out something to fill the space.

“Weird to see you with earrings on,” I said. …And here I was, falling for it again. 

Hanzawa-senpai didn’t seem fazed at all by what I’d just said, but he was an annoying guy who looked the same whether he was angry or not. “You’ve seen me wear them before, though?” 

“Not in school,” I pointed out. Hanzawa-senpai had been a terrible sadist of a president, but he was squeaky-clean about the way he did it. Even now, with his earrings clearly visible, he was the perfect picture of a model student working in quiet concentration. 

Hanzawa-senpai hummed in thought, his hands rummaging through the bag of makeup products he’d left on a nearby desk. “Well, I’m not a student anymore,” he said with a shrug. “Even so, aren’t they fairly hidden?” 

As if—they were small, and a plain steel color, but it was Hanzawa-senpai. Of course I couldn’t stop staring.

“Trying to hide your delinquent ways?” I asked, not expecting a serious answer. Hanzawa-senpai’s secrets probably had secrets. He’d passed over his title of captain to me, so I knew his caginess wasn’t completely because I was unreliable, but it still bothered me.

“If you’re looking for a delinquent, look in the mirror,” Hanzawa-senpai teased, and then produced some kind of torture contraption from his bag. “Now don’t move, okay?” 

I yelped and threw my hands up in self-defense. “You can’t put that thing near my face!” 

Hanzawa-senpai just laughed at me, close enough that I could feel his breath on my face. Sadist!

 “It’s just an eyelash curler, Tashiro-kun,” he drawled. “Calm down, would you?” 

I shook my head furiously. “No way,” I said, ready to fight for my life. When we’d gone over the basics, this guy hadn’t mentioned this step—I’d bet anything it was purposeful! “How can—” 

A warm hand curled around my wrists, and I froze. Hanzawa-senpai pulled my hands away from my face, pressing in close, and made an order: “Sit still, would you?”

I’d barely listened when he was captain of the ping pong club, but something about his voice held me in place. I’d never really thought about it before, but Hanzawa-senpai had one of those storybook-narrator voices—the kind that made even simple things sound weirdly compelling. And then he had to go be one of the most eloquent people I’d met, too.

So, my eyes, which I thought would never hold still, obediently refrained from twitching as Hanzawa-senpai slowly curled my lashes.

The process was less painful than I thought, but it was still freaky—my vision was half metal, and so even though I knew that Hanzawa-senpai was right in front of me, the only real cue for that was the way he kept murmuring instructions into my ears. Once he’d curled my eyelashes, he carefully applied mascara, and then leaned back to survey his work. 

I could finally breathe again. My eyes felt… different?

“Blink a few times,” Hanzawa-senpai suggested. 

After taking his advice, I got a bit more used to the feeling. “Huh.”

“Eyeshadow next.” After that announcement, Hanzawa-senpai started digging through his bag again. 

“Right,” I suddenly remembered, “Were you planning on buying something fancy?” At Hanzawa-senpai’s blank stare, I elaborated, “Fancy earrings. Since there’s that jeweler guy you’re friends with.” 

“Not friends,” Hanzawa-senpai corrected after a beat. “I’ve met him a total of four times.”

You’re counting? 

For two people who weren’t friends, they sure had talked to each other like they were. And now Hanzawa-senpai was looking through his stuff with a strange look in his eyes, so I’d clearly touched some kind of nerve. 

I sighed. “Do you have to overthink everything?”

He didn’t even pause his search. “Maybe you could stand to think more?”

“Hey!” I crossed my arms. I think about you all the time, don’t I?

“…Okay, that was a little rude,” Hanzawa-senpai admitted. “Forgive me?” When he smiled, his eyes would always curve in a way that made it impossible to be angry.

“…We’re doing eyeshadow next, right?”

Instead of answering, he pressed an eyeshadow palette in my hand. Palette wasn’t the right word—what did you call something that was just one eyeshadow? Before I could think too hard about it, I got distracted by the eyeshadow’s color. “…You’re not colorblind, are you?”

“I can tell that’s green,” Hanzawa-senpai said, clearly amused. “No, that’s just for you.” He gestured to the eyeshadow palette in his hands, which was way more color-appropriate. “Close your eyes.”

I did close them, but I couldn’t stop thinking—what did “just for you” mean?

After I’d faced an eyelash curler, the eyeshadow and eyeliner didn’t seem so bad. The hardest part was staying still—how did some girls do this daily?

Once Hanzawa-senpai was done, he tugged me to a standing position, and moved a few steps away to check the result. Judging by the irritating smugness radiating from his expression, he’d done a good job.

“Where’d you get this eyeshadow?” I asked, holding up the one still clutched in my hand. I couldn’t bring myself to ask why. 

“…When I was helping Seigi cover his bruise, I happened to find it, and—” He shrugged, deliberately casual. “You like that shade of green.”

I did. It was my favorite color, and I wore it all the time. But I still didn’t understand why Hanzawa-senpai had gotten this eyeshadow for me. And I didn’t understand why my chest felt so weird when I heard him talk about Seigi. 

“…Is that everything, then?” I asked.

“There’s lip gloss,” Hanzawa-senpai said, handing me a tube of the stuff, “but that’s easy enough for you to do. Sit down, but turn to the side—I’ll do your hair.” 

I had a faint memory of Shirahama saying he didn’t trust anyone else with hairstyling, but I figured he’d accept Hanzawa-senpai’s skills, so I didn’t protest.

In this new setup, I was stuck staring at a random classroom wall. Though I couldn’t see Hanzawa-senpai standing behind me, I could feel the brush he was carefully pulling through my hair, working through the tangles with a steady hand.

“You know,” I said, “why didn’t you ever do the contest yourself? You’d be so good at it.” 

“I prefer to be on the sidelines for this kind of thing, I think.”

“Makes sense,” I said. “But if you did—oh, you’d have to pick out a name!” 

“A name?” 

“It’s a conversation I had with Kuresawa. Like, his girl name would be Tasuko. And I could just shorten my first name to be something like Gon-chan. For you, maybe… Masako?”

I thought he’d laugh at my lack of naming sense, but instead, Hanzawa-senpai just shook his head. “That one’s out—it’s my sister’s name.” 

“Ah—that’s right, you have a few siblings, don’t you?” 

“I do. And you’re quite obviously an only child.”

“How do you know that?”

He simply smiled. “It’s impossible not to.” 

“...Sure,” I said. 

I didn’t have an immediate reply, so I unscrewed the tube of lip gloss. It was easy enough to apply, even without a mirror, so once that was over, my thoughts wandered.

What kind of magical, mystical quality did having siblings give to someone? Maybe even thinking that was what made me an only child, but really… 

I stole a glance up at Hanzawa-senpai. If this guy was my brother, I don’t know if I would cry or laugh. 

As it turned out, you couldn’t unnoticeably look upwards when you had someone’s hands fiddling with your hair. Our gazes met, and Hanzawa-senpai smiled—like a cat who’d gotten the canary. I stayed frozen in place as he leaned down.

“Alright, Gon-chan,” Hanzawa-senpai purred. “It looks like you’re all set.” 

My face turned instantly, abruptly red. No wonder Miyano had said I’d been way too casual about accepting the name. It definitely, definitely, without a doubt, definitely, definitively, couldn’t be used casually! 

Hanzawa-senpai straightened back up. “...Tashiro-kun?” 

“I—” My voice came out way too high. “I’m going to ask Shirahama to help with my hair!” 

Then I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. 

(...Running in a skirt wasn’t that hard—it was actually kind of fun—but that was the last thing on my mind, then.) 

#so yeah in case its obvious: I'm not doing two versions of this scene #i have one half-written but 1) it needs a lot more work and 2) i kind of feel like this stands on its own and #itd be worse if it had to accompany smthing subpar #maybe another day maybe never is where I'm at about it now #anyways. i don't think anyone will be too mad lol #i just felt the need to clarify #kiri.txt #hanzawa to tashiro #the anomalous agate #hanzashiro #tashiro gonzaburou #hanzawa masato #my writing

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐍

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: swears, alcohol

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

There was a bittersweet taste in the room when Jax walked in. It was like déjà vu; a scene you had already seen before. With his hair slicked back, stubble growing, the same white shirt.

Slowly, Jax removed each finger from his glove, and pulled the leather glove from his oil-stained hands. Shoving them in his back pocket, he waited for you to sit before he did.

You realised in the midst of your scrambled cleaning; you had turned down the lighting and lit a few candles. Now looking at Jax, it felt too much. You were just so caught up in your own thoughts, and did what you would do for every visitor.

   “Smells good in here,” he said, his eyes looking up at you through his thick lashes.

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, internally criticising yourself for taking credit for a fucking candle. What is he thinking? Probably that I’m trying to seduce the fucker.

You were hit with a sudden feeling of vulnerability.

Was it the fact that you didn’t have your usual clothes on? The little use of make-up? He had seen you … well, at your worst and you hadn’t cared then. So, why now?

Self-awareness. That’s what. That’s the fucked-up reason you feel so exposed. Being completely aware of yourself, of your history with Jax; your cheeks started to heat.

Prior memories snuck up behind you, about to grab you, drag you back into the past. Your chest felt heavy, and you could feel those hands; cold, inky black and sharp.

Your eyes quickly looked to Jax, and he grounded you. He started the panic, but … he was able to stop it too.

   That was why you had to speak to him. You didn’t want a darkness to be associated with him. Even though he had done … not so great things, you knew he would never do anything to hurt you. However, you needed him to say it.

- ✦ -

Setting down the two glasses and the bottle of liquor, Jax watched as you gave him a curt smile and popped open the bottle.

‘Fuck I’m going to need this,’ you thought, pouring his first, then doubling the amount in your glass. He chuckled. And sneaking a glance at Jax’s face, you saw delight … pure delight.

    “Don’t judge me, Teller,” you said as you held out his glass and sat down. You hadn’t called him by his last name since Tara had died. You had a lot of banter with him during his marriage, but nothing went further than flirtatious remarks. You weren’t a homewrecker. And he didn’t want to ruin his marriage.

But here you two were, in a nasty twist of fate.

“Not for a second,” he smirked back.

God. You were supposed to be mad at him, and yet, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

You were stunned for a moment, a thought popping into your head. After all this time, your heart still yearned for Jax Teller.

  - ✦ -

Right before Jax knocked on your door, you had ushered the dogs outside, to give you and Jax some privacy. Otherwise, their attention-seeking ways would take away from the deeper conversation. It was an attempt to encourage as much openness from you, as well as Jax. And having two big pups trying to vie for attention would create a distraction.

You didn’t want a distraction.

It would give Jax a reason not to look at you. Well, that was your thought process anyway.

  But Angus and Jango weren’t having a lick of it. They were desperate to be by your side, whining non-stop as soon as Jax walked in the door. They weren’t in protection-mode, merely curious about what was going on inside.

 It didn’t take long for Jax to notice, especially when Jango started whining in such long instances, that it sounded as if he was singing a melancholy tune. So much for being serious, you mentally groaned, conscience of your actions around Jax. And once again, your dogs were traitors.

Getting up from his seat, Jax walked into the kitchen and to the back door. You were about to tell him to come sit back down when he looked at you and cocked his head, motioning to the back door.

   “C’mon, let ‘em in” he said. For some reason you held your breath but did so.

Walking up beside Jax, you held onto the black rectangle and slid open the door. Their first action was completely embarrassing for a human, but utterly normal for a dog. Each taking turns at sniffing Jax’s behind, you chastised them.

  Surprisingly, Jax let out a bark of laughter, petting the heads of each dog.

You chastised them, but with their puppy dog eyes, they were too precious for any real discipline.

But almost as if he had read your thoughts, when you went back into the loungeroom, Jax didn’t use the dogs as an excuse.

  He looked at you with unwavering intensity.

Even from his seat, the glass reaching his lips, he took a gulp the whole while, maintaining eye contact.

And you felt something shift inside you, a flurry of butterflies in your stomach and … a heat in your core.

- ✦ -

The liquor gave you confidence, and a loose tongue.

  But the words you spoke needed to be said, and they needed to be heard.

“You hurt me Jax. Truly, it felt like you had broken my heart in two.” These words would never have been said if you hadn’t been drinking doubles for the past hour, but you needed him to understand.

Jax was silent as you spoke. His eyes firm in their connection into your own. He sat with a leg resting over his other, his arms resting on the arm chair.

    “I don’t expect you to be ready for commitment. Not after …” you took a moment before letting his dead wife’s name leave your lips.

His eyes flickered downward for a second, before returning back to yours.

    “But I won’t be half in. I’m not someone you can call on sometimes. I’m either with you…or well, not.”

Downing the rest of your glass, you moved to fill up both yours and Jax’s cup. But he halted you.

   “Let me,” he said, leaning forward and popping open the bottle.

You sat back and watched as Jax moved. His roughened hands clasped around the bottle, the other holding the glass.

  The liquid splashing in the glass was the only noise in the room. He filled your glasses the same amount.

   Jax serving you. It was nice…and wouldn’t it be divine if he could do this for the rest of my life? You chastised yourself for the thought. Don’t get ahead of yourself. He could very well still leave you with a broken heart.

The thought made your ears go warm, and the blood drain from your body. With a growing lightness, you thought of all the things you and Jax could do if you were together. The dates, the dinners, meeting his boys and getting to know them, being around the other Sons…feeling like you had a family again.

Reaching out, you leaned forward to grab onto the rim of the glass. As your hand reached it, he pulled it back from your reach.

   He looked at you, really truly looked at you.

  “Zo, I am all in.”

Thank fuck he was still holding the glass because it would have slipped from your hands and shattered on the floor.

  “What?” You whispered, knowing what he said but wanting to hear it again.

“I’m all in. You and me, no one else.”

   You took in a big breath and exhaled. Light-headed, you thought maybe you had imagined it. But his hand reached out and took your own.

You closed your eyes to stop yourself from crying.

  “You mean it Jax? Because I’m giving you an out. A real out. You can leave me without feeling guilty.” Word vomit, goddamn, word vomit.

   “You don’t have to be with me,” you finally finished speaking.

You weren’t trying to persuade him not to be with you, but to show him that this is it. There’s no turning back now.

- ✦ -

(play ‘The Lure’ by The Weeknd)

The bottle lay unnoticed as Jax pulled you from your seat.

He stood in front of you, the same way you had stood when he told you he couldn’t do this. And that had been only a few days ago.

  So much had changed in such little time.

And both of you knew it. Self-awareness at its best. Because Jax took both your hands and held them to his chest. He felt warm, and his chest was hard underneath his shirt.

  He didn’t say anything about the similarities, because it was one of those things that was known. You and Jax had a lot of those moments. Where you just knew what the other must be thinking.

Looking upwards, you stared into his piercing blue eyes. He had those same faded freckles, with the smell of cigarettes and the leather of his kutte. Comfort.

Two different people, two different hearts, both thudding in time.

   “I’m sorry for what I said before,” his voice was soft. Barely above a whisper, and yet his words felt so loud inside your mind.

You didn’t interrupt him or try to speak. You had said your piece, told him everything. Plus, it was better to keep your mouth shut. The liquor had gotten to your head quicker than normal.

And now it was his turn.

   “I was scared,” he moved closer to you, one hand holding both of yours onto his chest. You gripped the white fabric.

The night was dark and silent. Halting, waiting for the two of you. The world had stopped spinning, stopped turning. No crickets, no owls, no noise or movement.

  Even the dogs were lying down, unmoving save from their tails, which were wagging lightly.

He continued on, “not an excuse, I know. But I couldn’t put you in danger. Zo, I couldn’t. Because I cannot, I will not, lose another person I love.” His jaw clenched, the muscles tensing. And you wanted to reach out. But somehow you knew he needed your hands to stay where they were. Almost as if they were opening up his heart themselves.

  “You Zo, I think, no, I know, that you are the next love of my life. The last love of my life.” His forehead rested against yours, and your eyes fluttered close. You were breathing in each other’s air, sharing your inner source.

A tear fell down your cheek, and it felt so cold against your hot complexion.

Jax reached out and wiped it away. He held you close, and you could feel the tip of his nose taking in deep breaths against your neck.

How long had you desired him? How goddamn long! Never did you think this would happen. You’ve known him for years and considered him a crush that couldn’t lead anywhere. But no! Your feelings … they had been reciprocated. You weren’t doomed to be an unrequited love.

 It was done; decided. There was no going back. You were both in this, ready for life – together. The inevitably danger would be handled … together. Whatever will come, will come. But for now, you were happy to be in his presence, breathing in his air, touching his chest.

   “You and me,” you mumbled, rubbing your nose against his.

Smiling, he did the same. “Me and you.”

 And then his hands let go of yours, and slid to your cheeks. Moving his head to the side, he slowly pressed his lips to yours. Warm, that’s how you describe Jax. Which ironically, is not how the majority of people would associate him with.

  But with you, oh. He was warm. Affectionate. Lively.

He was once again, light-hearted. And Jax realised that he felt like he could take on the world.

#memories of desire #memories of desire fanfic #witch the writer's stories #jax teller #jax teller x zoe #jax teller fanfic #soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #soa fanfic #soa fanfiction #witchthewriter #commissioned stories #commissions #writing commissions #story commission #fanfic #fanfiction #commissioned fanfiction

[cursesavior]

— @chaoslulled / plotted.

The past just can't seem to let him go. When Suguru was informed of a new initiate into his 'religious group', he'd expected the usual formal affair. Donning their robes to pledge their allegiance to him and his cause, giving him their blood to show their dedication - the same played-out scenario he'd gone through what felt like a million times at this point. He couldn't care less, honestly, he had better things to do - he'd been shockingly busy since he'd died and been turned into a vampire, building up his following and trying to create a world where the undead could live without the fear of being hunted - but he put on a serious face anyways, pulling his own hood over his head as he made his way to the candlelit room where the ceremony would take place. Just another night like any another...

He's quickly shown just how wrong he is about that.

There's an odd feeling in his gut when the new initiate is brought into the room by several other cult members, something undeniably familiar about the hooded figure before him, the height, the way they walked, their posture - the name sat stubbornly on the tip of his tongue as he stared, gaze intense as he tried to figure out just why he was getting such strong déjà vu. That voice, it almost sounded like... But it couldn't be, right? There must be some other explanation...

"... Satoru?"

All bets are off as soon as the others hood is dropped to reveal Satoru's face, the shock in his voice giving him away instantly. A whirlwind of emotions cuts through him - Satoru. His best friend. The one he'd fought side-by-side with for so many years back when he was still a vampire hunter... He didn't think he would ever see him again, the weight of how much he'd missed him hitting him all at once. He wants to be relieved, happy, wants to embrace his friend - but he was a vampire, and Satoru was a vampire hunter. There was only one way this encounter could possibly end. Someone's blood had to be shed. Higher thinking screams for him to have the cultists restrain him, do something to stop the other from reaching for a stake, silver, holy water, anything - but the shock leaves him frozen like a deer in headlights, only moving to pull down his own hood and reveal his wide-eyed expression, his usual composure decimated by their unexpected reunion.

"What are you doing here...?"

#— i get dark only to shine / IN CHARACTER. #— don't you dare forget the sun / V; VAMPIRE. #chaoslulled #finally had the time to write this LOL #lmk if i should change anything!!

[verdantcrimson]

Gourmand Fragrance / Wagashi Revolution - 7

(Unproofread)

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[A few days after show filming]

Nazuna: Phew… I’ve been so busy all morning, but I can finally take a breather now.

Nazuna: I was thinking of making some tea for myself. Would you like some too, Keito-chin?

Keito: I’ll have some. I’m quite parched as well, as one would expect.

Nazuna: Making sweets first thing in the morning really made me appreciate the folks that wake up and make Valentine’s chocolate every year.

Keito: Yes, I’ve recently become quite aware of this myself. Those that can cook are deserving of respect, naturally.

Keito: This isn’t just limited to Valentine’s day either. Kiryu and Kanzaki cook quite regularly.

Keito: Anyone that cooks for another person deserves respect.

Nazuna: Yup! Though I wish Kuro-chin didn’t have work today. He would’ve loved to see Souma-chin’s happy face……

Keito: There’s nothing that can be done if he has work to do. Besides, I’m certain Kanzaki will express his gratitude to Kiryu the moment he returns.

Nazuna: Haha, right ♪ I can practically imagine Kuro-chin recoiling from the overload of compliments Souma-chin will give him.

Souma: —Hasumi-dono! Is Hasumi-dono here~?

Nazuna: Woah, I’m getting some serious déjà vu¹. Welcome back, Souma-chin and Mitsuru-chin.

Nazuna: We’ve been waiting for both of y— Uwah!?

Mitsuru: Nii-chan~! I knew you were amazing, Nii-chan~! You’re so cool for making such cute wagashi!

Nazuna: Mitsuru-chin, don’t jump on me without warning! You might knock me over!

Tomoya: Huff… Puff… Kanzaki-senpai and Mitsuru run so fast…

Hajime: Ahaha.. Both of them got so excited after Anzu-san showed them the show…

Keito: Show…? Did you guys happen to see ‘Gourmand Fragrance’ already?

Souma: Indeed! Anzu-dono informed us of it! A culinary programme that featured wagashi planned out by Hasumi-dono was to be broadcasted.

Souma: It is just what one would expect of Hasumi-dono! I, too, was entranced by the charm of ‘Barentainsu’ wagashi.

Souma: The ‘haato’-shaped nerikiri was extremely cute. The sight of Hasumi-dono struggling to shape the paste into a ‘haato’ was adorable too. ♪

Keito: Don’t fixate on that bit, Kanzaki. What I was doing doesn’t matter.

Souma: Really? I found that portion of the program to be particularly delightful…

Souma: However, why did you not summon me, Hasumi-dono!?

Souma: The program was fascinating, but I could not help but feel excluded.

Keito: I’m sorry about that. However, you were so downtrodden, that I wanted to prove to you that wagashi could be the main attraction before you ate these.

Souma: Hm? Might these be the wagashi that you and the others made during the program, Hasumi-dono?

Keito: Yes. Kiryu and I are always indebted to you, Kanzaki. We made these Valentine’s wagashi to express our gratitude to you.

Keito: Kiryu is away for work at the moment, but he helped prepare these, so his feelings have been properly included.

Souma: Hasumi-dono, Kiryu-dono…! Words cannot express how happy I am!

Souma: I shall pass these wagashi down to my descendants as a family heirloom…!

Keito: No, eat them. They'll go bad.

Souma: Ah, you are indeed correct. However, it truly feels like such a shame to eat them. ..

Hajime: Fufu, I'm happy for you, Kanzaki-senpai. The wagashi that your senpai made look quite delicious. ♪

Mitsuru: Right~... I wanna eat em too……

Tomoya: Hey now, Mitsuru. Saying that will just make it harder for Kanzaki-senpai to eat them, right?

Nazuna: Why are you guys acting like this has nothing to do with you? There's something for everyone in Ra*bits too, of course!

Nazuna: I was on the show too. Here, have as muuuch as you want.

Mitsuru: Really!? Yippee! I love you, Nii-chan~♪!

Tomoya: Thank you very much Nii-chan. Are you sure it's okay for us to have this?

Nazuna: Why wouldn't it be? If you don't eat it, we'll end up with a bunch left over and that'll be a real pain.

Nazuna: Go on, eat up! I was thinking of how happy you all would be as I made them, after all~♪.

Souma: … Everyone from ‘rabbitsu’ seems to be quite happy as well.

Souma: Though such jubilance is to be expected. There is no reason to feel otherwise. ♪

Keito: …… Kanzaki. Were the wagashi to your liking?

Souma: Hm? I said it earlier, did I not? I am most content with these wagashi, filled with your and Kiryu-dono's feelings!

Keito: I see. I'm quite happy to hear that Kanzaki, however…

Keito: Honestly, I'm far from content myself.

Souma: What!? Why could that be?

Keito: I heard you say you “wanted wagashi to be the star of Valentine’s day.”

Keito: We've been able to draw attention to wagashi on Valentine’s day with this show.

Keito: However, there has been no visible impact on the public. The most we could do was draw attention on Valentine's day for this year.

Keito: I have no doubt that wagashi will be forgotten yet again on Valentine's day next year. 

Keito: Therefore, it would be unfair to conclude that wagashi have become the star of Valentine's day.

Souma: Hasumi-dono……

Keito: I'm not satisfied with this outcome. If I have to do something, I'll aim for an absolute victory.

Keito: Chocolate has become integral to Valentine's day due to the marketing strategy of an old confectionery.

Keito: The industry devised tactics to attract mass attention and turn chocolate synonymous with Valentine's day.

Keito: …… If you think about it, it's quite similar to how idols are marketed. Then, this ought to be our area of expertise.

Keito: We could create an Era where wagashi dominate the Valentine's day market.

Keito: That's what I'd like to accomplish using AKATSUKI.

Keito: —Those are my thoughts. What do you think, Kanzaki?

Souma: I apologize for underestimating you, Hasumi-dono! It is as I thought, you are truly worthy of my loyalty!

Souma: It would most certainly be my pleasure to assist you in this. After all, this tale originated from my own desire……

Souma: And above all else, I wish to see the world Hasumi-dono envisions by his side! ♪

Keito: Yes. I'll be counting on you then, Kanzaki.

[END]

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#Gourmand Fragrance #Keito Hasumi #Souma Kanzaki #Tomoya Mashiro #Nazuna Nito #Hajime Shino #Mitsuru Tenma

[another-lost-mc]

Just an angst thought….im thinking about an angel!MC who develops their romantic relationship with Meta AND THEN fall from celestial realm again, déjà vu with Azra case. What will Meta do this time? Will he make the same or different decision?

*insert emotional damage meme here*

OUCH. Poor Meta. :(

Okay, Azra falls before Lucifer's rebellion, right? My thought is, maybe Meta and Angel!MC get together sometime after that, unless they had some sort of open/poly thing with Azra before.

Angel!MC somehow gets caught up in the whirlwind of the war - if Lilith is a friend and Angel!MC wants to side with her and Lucifer, Meta would warn them not to because he knows how severe the consequences would be.

Angel!MC might have a lower rank/status amongst the angels, so losing them as a casualty isn't as serious as possibly losing an angel like Meta. Even if he wanted to join the conflict and side with Angel!MC, it's possible some of the other high-ranking angels anticipate that and try to stop him. Angel!MC was punished/had fallen without his knowledge or while he was distracted (on purpose???) so it was too late for him to do anything.

I can't realistically see how Meta could endure that a second time, not when he would've been that much more determined to prevent Angel!MC from suffering Azra's fate.

When it comes to the conflict with Lucifer, I think Meta and Simeon would have a lot in common - their shared feelings about what happened and their regrets. Maybe he volunteers for the exchange program with Simeon and Luke? Luke's only like, half an angel and Purgatory Hall is huge, there's plenty of room for one more.

Oh, but what have Azra and Angel!MC been up to in the Devildom since then...?

#jes.replies #jes.oc asks #my oc: metatron

[melusine0811]

The Space Between the Stars Chapter 14

"Double Rainbow"

This art of Elisabet and Sakura was done by my very talented friend @1004knightingale as it heavily features them.

Chapter 14- Double Rainbow

After the Goodwill Shop, where Elisabet and Sakura had picked out wedding outfits they vowed not to show one another until the actual ceremony, they had promised the nice people there that they would first of all go visit something here in Tonopah called the Clown Motel. The looks on their faces were telling, so of course Lis and Sakura had been skeptical.

However, Sakura had closed her eyes after five seconds of parking in front of that monstrosity of an establishment, and she screamed bloody murder.

“I guarantee you some serious weirdos stay there, if you shined a blacklight on those sheets you’d see them from space! Let’s get out of here!”

They had decided to skip the other haunted hotel in town in favor of passing by the Crescent Dunes Solar Energy Project. It’s a tower, surrounded by rows upon rows upon rows of solar panels forming circles around it. Impressive, especially for two scientists.

“It’s almost…eerie,” said Sakura, “what I wouldn’t give to be working on a project that big and amazing.”

Lis had slid her hand across the seat, squeezing Sakura’s. “You will be, I know it.”

Lis then had swallowed, hesitating. 

“I don’t know, I have been here before and feel some sort of connection to it... I can’t explain it. It’s happened all my life. Every summer my parents and I would go visit national parks and historic places across the western United States. When I was fifteen, we visited Colorado Springs and climbed Cheyenne Mountain and Pikes Peak and it was the worst it’s ever been, I had chills down my spine, the hairs all over my body stood on end almost the entire time. I couldn’t tell anyone about it. And I feel it here, too, but not quite as strong.”

Sakura had looked genuinely concerned.

“What do you mean, like déjà vu?”

“Kind of, but like, there’s more. Like whatever is going to happen in these places hasn’t happened yet, and I feel…displaced.”

She'd then looked at Sakura.

“You think I’m nuts, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. But I wouldn’t be nearly as crazy about you if you weren’t.”

She’d then leaned over and kissed her. 

“Let’s get to Vegas, so that I can marry your crazy ass.”

They’d driven off, and now, several hours, and one dead air conditioner later, they arrive in Vegas, coasting into a very sparsely populated underground parking garage that serves several nearby hotels on the strip.

Yet Sakura is not herself.

Lis knows of course that part of the reason is that she’s exhausted, hungry, thirsty, and all sweaty from being in the truck in the one-hundred degree desert heat.

But this sullen look on her face is unusual.

They both unload their things from the bed of the truck, including the outfits they’d bought for their wedding (that they are hiding from one another until the ceremony), and they begin carrying all of it through the relatively cool underground parking facility to the elevator that would take them up to their hotel, The Tempo, apparently once called the Golden Pagoda. The ride in had indeed been very hot and miserable, so once they’d finally seen the Las Vegas skyline including the new dome, they had been very relieved.

Sakura had been very quiet for the last couple of hours, but she’s silent, now, looking quite bedraggled, every bit as much as Lis feels. Fortunately the temperature down here below ground is quite cool, helping to regulate them at least a little. Sakura throws her bags on her back and walks off silently, avoiding eye contact.

Lis walks faster to catch up with her.

“Hey, Sakuchan…hold on.” Lis drops her bags as Sakura scans the poorly-lit area for the elevator up to their hotel. 

“I’m sorry Lis…I just…ugh. I know part of it is that I’m tired and hungry, but…”

“Are you…having second tho—”

Sakura looks up at her immediately.

“Absolutely not! No, no way. I’m just…angry. I’m angry that my father has to be an absolute monster, so much that I’m afraid to go anywhere, for fear that he’ll take me away. He’s always at the corner of my vision. I’m afraid. I’m scared, I…I can’t lose you.”

Lis comes close to her, face sweaty, both of them with hair in a mess from having the windows open due to the dead A/C. She speaks to her in a low, comforting voice.

“That’s not going to happen—because even if it did, there’s not a wall, barrier, or dimensional membrane that I wouldn’t claw my way through to get you back. I will always find you, and I won’t let you go, okay?”

Sakura nearly collapses, encircling Lis in her arms, tears clouding her vision, and they stand there with their luggage, the two of them, outside their rickety old pickup truck in this dark, underground parking garage somewhere beneath Las Vegas. 

Lis pulls back, cupping Sakura’s face in her hands, stroking her cheeks with her thumbs, then whispers. “I love you more than anything. Now let’s go upstairs so that I can make you my wife. Please.”

Sakura barely lets her finish, regardless of how sweaty they are. She kisses her. These are not their normal, gentle, passionate kisses. These are kisses of need. Of intense gratitude that she can only express in this way. Whispering, dry kisses evolve into deeper ones, and suddenly Sakura has backed Lis up against the truck, which is still warm to the touch with the engine making creaking noises as it cools.

These moments seem lost to time, Lis unsure of whether they’re moving too slow or too fast, as she drops the last bag she’d been carrying and she kisses her back as though her life is tethered to her, because it is, and so is every fine thread tied to her very soul as she’s reveling in the feel of her mouth, and the grasp of her fingers tangled in Lis’s hair. She knows that despite the fact that the heat from the truck is becoming a bit uncomfortable against her back, and they’re both already covered in sweat from the Nevada heat, Sakura needs this to re-center herself. To anchor herself to the reality that Lis is here, and they are really doing this. As though Lis’s skin cells are bumping up against her own, screaming at her with each brush and touch.

Sakura takes her right hand and searches frantically for Lis’s left, which is wrapped around Sakura’s back, and when she finds it she caresses it with her fingers, touching her own ring on Lis’s third finger, pulling away and looking down at it. 

Lis places her other hand on Sakura’s chin, tilting it back up, looking in her eyes, and kissing the tears that had dripped down her cheeks.

Sakura gives her a small smile, and she nods.

#Seyloy #aloy x seyka #sakubet #elisabet x sakura #elisabet sobeck #aloy sobeck #seyka #Sakura sobeck #please share

[txemrn]

Déjà Vu

Chapter 1

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Eleanor prepares for a night out with her best friends despite her mother's wishes for her to attend a special family dinner.

Pairing(s): Liam x Riley (in discussion); more to be revealed

Word Count: ~2740

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 this chapter references drinking; brief language

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! No one asked for this... at least no one of sound mind, and if you're a big fan of TRR, you might actually hate this (no, I'm not killing Liam!). When I pitched this idea (half-joking, half-serious) to some buddies after reading the book Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas, the eager encouragement I normally receive was met with (what's that TikTok trend with that T Swift song?) "horrified looks from everyone in the room". But... I could not get this idea out of my head. So, here we are! I have a general idea of where this story is going... but I'm actually leaving myself open to possibilities. No matter how the road twists and turns, I would be honored if you join me!

A/N 2: This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! Huge thank you to @charlotteg234 for looking over this for me (and laughing like a maniac with me)! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Eleanor

Tapping my newly manicured nails against the glass topper to my vanity, my gaze nervously shifts back and forth between my choices for the evening. I don’t know why this is so hard–or why it’s taking me this long to decide–but somehow, here I am in quite the conundrum.

Perversion or Temptress: that’s it. But, when it came to darkening the outer-corner of my eyelid, picking the right hue of eyeshadow matters. Yes, yes, they’re both a deep black; one is a dark matte that has the potential to smudge all over my porcelain face, but the other one, while dark, has little flecks of silver.

Biting my lip, I look at myself in the mirror before looking back at the YouTube tutorial I was following.  I feel silly making such a big deal over the color; afterall, this is supposed to be fun. Normally, for me, it is.  I’m actually really good at doing my own make-up, thanks to the internet and to my mother who convinced my father when I was fourteen that mascara and lipstick would not lead me down the path of destruction and eternal damnation.

Well, I guess I should clarify: I do a great job on my make-up, my everyday natural, diplomatically poised look. Think lots of pinks and taupes. It’s the latest trend for crown princesses; I should know.

But tonight, I wouldn’t be Princess Eleanor. I didn’t want to be Princess Eleanor. 

Dangit, that came out wrong. I don’t mean to sound like some stereotypical spoiled brat that is born into money and power, who craves freedom from her poor little privileged life.  I am content–actually, very grateful for the life I have been born into. I have been given incredible opportunities and experiences because of it. But, I’m not naive; I know I have a high-calling, one filled with much responsibility and dedication. Someday I will be queen of Cordonia.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves... 

Tonight, I’m just Nora–at least that’s what my friends call me, and since I’m turning twenty this coming Tuesday, they wanted to take me out over the weekend. This weekend. See? Responsible. But, there is just one problem…

There’s a sudden knock on my door, my mother instantly inviting herself in.  “Dinner’s in thirty Eleanor–”  she freezes as her eyes grow wide. “Y–you’re make-up… don’t you think it’s a bit on the, um… heavy-side?”

“Mom,” I singsong, "it's supposed to be. This is how all the celebrities and models wear their make-up when they hit the town." 

"Hit the town?" My mother gave me that eyebrow, the one that gives away her true unspoken feelings. "You're going out tonight?"

"Mhmm. To dinner." I settle on Urban Decay's Perversion, and start tapping the color against my eyelid. "I told you and Daddy that Josie and Beth were taking me out–"

"Eleanor," my mom shot her first warning signal with her tone. "We discussed that tonight wasn't a good night. And if you ladies could do things tomorrow–"

"It's just a family dinner," I continue to work on my look. "Daddy said it was fine–"

"But you know how important this dinner is. We have a special guest."

Yes, yes. We know.

His name is Drake Walker, and he is–well, was, my parent's best friend back in the day before I was born. He actually grew up with my dad, Drake's father serving as my Grandpa Rys's royal guard when he was king of Cordonia.

But, then there was a falling out of some sort…well, that's according to my Uncle Leo. He means well, but I'm fairly certain the truth has been stretched.

Anyway, I'm not too clear on what happened, but shortly after my parents got married, Drake moved back to his home in America to start a normal life. He never settled down with a wife, but he kept busy with his construction company.

That is until four months ago when he discovered his business partner had been siphoning company funds into off-shore accounts. Now he spends his days laid up on the couch with a fifth of whiskey. And broke as a joke.

Drake's brother-in-law Bertrand Beaumont, the Duke of Ramsford, serves on the royal council with my parents, and after a late meeting one night, he shared the truth about their former best friend. 

Daddy and his bleeding heart… sure, he can see fiery red from time to time and his temper can bubble over, but my father is known for his grace, forgiveness, and charity towards others. He contacted his old friend… which then led to an invitation back to Cordonia.

'It's only for a little while, until he gets back on his feet,' Daddy assured my mom.  'We'll give him tasks around the palace until then.'

Mom called it a 'midlife crisis'. I don't think I was supposed to hear the latter part.

I began to draw on my eyeliner as my mother crossed her arms, glowering at me. Feeling the disappointment radiate from her glare, I stop, shrugging my shoulders. "What?"

"Part of being royal is posing as a unified front as a family."

"You act like this is some official business or a press event–"

"Our closest friends are going to be here, Elle, and–" she stops, her eyes playfully smoldering as her voice becomes angelically romantic. "--I think even Bartie is coming." 

"Mom!" I chuckle, my cheeks pinking in embarrassment from her inflection. "It's not like that with him."

Oh, but it was…

Bartie Beaumont is one of my closest friends. He's a few years older than me and well… I really enjoy spending time with him.  He's incredibly kind and charming in and out of social situations. He's quite handsome with his dark, well-kept hair and deep chestnut eyes. And smart–goodness, he's smart. He can keep up with my father, round-for-round in debating politics and foreign policies.

He's always been fiercely protective of me, even when I was a little girl. But he was always just Bartie, my honorary older brother… that is until he asked me to dance at a charity gala when I was sixteen. I had never been asked to dance by a boy before; I was normally paired with other noble children, usually from the suggestion made by their mothers. But this? It was different… and special. Someone chose to dance with me because they wanted to. And until that moment, I never understood what it meant to let a partner 'lead you', and well… I digress. It was nice. Bartie… he's just nice.

"But seriously, Mom," I continue, "the girls have already set everything up for tonight, and I'm the guest of honor for that. I can't just stand them up."

My mom gives me a long sigh. She's having that internal argument with herself where she compares her younger years as a commoner versus her younger years as a royal. "I guess I was hoping you'd get to meet your Uncle Drake tonight–"

I couldn't control my giggles. Growing up, Mom and Dad always referred to their close friends as 'Aunt' or 'Uncle', like my Uncle Max and Aunt Livvy. But they were also active members in my life that I saw frequently. 'Uncle Drake'? I don't even know the guy. 

"Isn't he living on our couch for a while? I'm sure I'll meet him at breakfast sometime." 

My mom pursed her lips. I think she realizes she has no other reasons to keep me home. Thank goodness.

"Is Lars going with you, or is one of the other guards?"

"Mom," I whine.

"Eleanor, you know the rules–"

"But I just want to be a normal twenty-year-old for the night–"

"Almost twenty-year-old," she smirks, stepping forward to fidget with my wavy, honey-brunette hair. "It's just not safe, baby. People know who you are–good people… and bad people. Even under all of this make-up, people will still recognize you."

I give a little huff, but she was right. I once dyed my hair purple and wore thick-rimmed frames to a show for a local punk band, and I'm pretty sure I posed for more photos with fans than the musicians.

"Fine, I'll ask Lars," I give my mother a half smile. "Anything else, your majesty?"

"One more thing," she twirls me around to face my reflection in the mirror. I'm keeping it pretty casual tonight with a white shirt and black ripped skinny jeans. I am pairing my black moto jacket with some gold accessories and my red Jimmy Choo pumps. Surely the woman doesn't think I'm showing off too much skin. 

Suddenly, she raises my shirt in the back and unclips my white bra.

"Mom!" 

"Eleanor," she snickers, shaking her head at me. "We've been over and over this ever since you got boobs: white shirt, nude undergarments."

I whip off my bra, quickly grabbing a skin-tone t-shirt bra. "No one's going to be looking."

"Someone is always looking." 

After hooking my bra and smoothing out my tee, Mom gave me an approving nod. And then she put her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. "Have a good time tonight. I love you, my twenty-year-old baby."

"Almost twenty-year-old baby." We both fall into titters as we squeeze each other closer. "I love you too, Mommy."

------

I text my bodyguard Lars to let him know about the evening, and as expected, he'll be ready with the car in ten minutes. 

Poor guy was ball-and-chained to me when I got my driver's license. I'm sure when he signed up for the guard, he pictured himself traveling around the world, looking like a badass with my dad. Instead, he got me, and the only traveling he normally does is to gather my morning espresso and cronut. He's made more trips to Sephora than any man should ever make in his lifetime–even more than my Uncle Max.

He's a good guy… if you like the serious, never-crack-a-smile type. He looks like John Cena with a permanent angry expression, complete with a single bulging vein in the center of his forehead. He's a man of few words despite my attempts to make him laugh, but underneath all the brawn and muscle, he has a big heart. He has literally given me his coat so that I wouldn't have to walk through a puddle of half-melted snow. And to think, he has sworn to give so much more for my own life… 

My phone abruptly pings. Beth.

>>> "Hey, bday bish! R U ready for the nite of ur life?"

I chuckle under my breath after reading the text. Night of my life… She always has a flare for the dramatics, but then again Beth has always been the life of the party. She has more personality in her pinkie finger than all of the citizens of Cordonia combined. Her mother is the Countess of Fydelia, and ever since Beth's father left, she's been indisposed.  Mom says that's a more tactful way of saying, 'alcoholic'. 

Beth walks more on the wild side, a real risk-taker. When I get in trouble, chances are she is somehow involved, like the time I got caught with a bottle of Smirnoff Ice at the Baron's Ball. Ugh, talk about the hangover from hell… and that wasn't even my punishment…

But she, along with Josie, are my ride-or-die. My BFFs. My "You jump, I jump, right?". We've grown up together, became women together, and nothing was about to ruin that bond.

I fire a text back to Beth. 

>>> "Can't wait! My car will be ready in a few. What restaurant are we meeting at?"

My phone instantly dings, catching me off guard in my attempts to glide on some lipstick. That was fast. I tap on the message.

>>> "We're coming 4 u! Be ready!"

My face falls. I know it's probably hard to believe, but my friends often forget that I'm a princess. Like, the legit crown princess of Cordonia, and because of that, I need a bodyguard present during all activities outside of the palace that have not otherwise been secured by the royal guard. As you can imagine, that rule made me so popular in grade school when my parents tried giving me a 'normal life'.

In retrospect, I'm quite grateful for the security through the years, especially when I hear about plots made by secret coups against my dad. But still, it would be nice to get my own darn breakfast. And I'm sure Lars would love to sleep in for once.

I text back.

>>> "And Lars"

>>> "R U kidding me? Ur shadow has 2 come?"

I let out a defeated exhale.  She knows this. My phone suddenly rings, her picture lighting up the screen. "Hey–"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She sounds irritated, as if I did this maliciously to her.

"Beth, you know my parents won't allow me out without him or any other–"

"He can't come with us," she interrupts. I can hear Josie in the back, trying to calm Beth down. 

"And do tell–" I cross an arm over my chest, raising an eyebrow, "--why is that?"

She lets out a huge sigh. "Fine. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but–" she hesitates, sucking on her front teeth.  "I got us three VIP passes into Core!"

I blink a few times, racking my brain for this to somehow trip a memory. "Core?" Nope. No tripping. "What's Core?"

"Nora!" She scoffs in disbelief. "It's only the newest and hottest club in town. Tonight is opening night. Half price shots–"

"Uh, Beth–?" I could feel my stomach sinking under the weight of her excitement. And Josie wasn't any better, squealing over the line. 

A club? Like, with dancing and drinking? I had never been to one before. And something tells me that the king wouldn't be too approving of his nineteen-year-old daughter partying with half-drunk strangers, groping her in the name of dancing. Still, it sounds like so much fun.

"--and we have a VIP table with bottle service until midnight!"

"Beth!" I call out to get her attention again. "There… there's just no way I can do that. Especially without Lars."

"C'mon, Nora. It's your freaking birthday. You're supposed to let loose–"

I hang my head into my hands. "You know I want to, but… I–I can't do that. My parents–"

"--don't have to know."

That silenced me real quickly into deep thought. I might not be the world's most perfect child, but I have learned never to hide things from Liam and Riley Rys. Never. 

But I'd be lying if a glimmer of hope and excitement didn't blossom in my chest at the thought of going out despite my parent's knowledge. Besides, I am an adult; I'm almost twenty for crying out loud. If anything, I've shown them how responsible I am, and that I can be trusted. Plus, Aunt Livvy has taught me more than enough self-defense maneuvers that I could probably take a second job as a spy with her wife.

Okay. Maybe Beth has a plan.

"And how won't they find out? Lars has to give a detailed report–"

"We won't bring him."

That's the plan? I snicker under my breath, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "And… how do you suggest I get rid of him?"

"Why not a sleepover?" I hear Josie suggest in the background.

A sleepover. That could work. There were few places I could go where security didn't have to be right beside me once a building was given the all clear. Beth's house happened to be one of them. 

"But I'm already dressed up. And–and I told my mom we were going out–"

"So?" Beth interjects. "We changed our minds. We'll have dinner catered."

Crap. Am I really considering this? I look at my reflection in the mirror as I twist my lips. Dangit. And I'm having a really good hair day.

"What's it gonna be, Nora?"

I take a few cleansing breaths. I can feel my pulse, galloping like a racehorse in my ears. Could I actually get away with this? I've been to Beth's house thousands of times. The guard comes in, does a quick sweep, and then keeps watch outside, never to return until it's time for me to leave. We could sneak out the back through the guest house. He would never know.

I swallow thickly, adrenaline pouring into my veins.

"Okay. Let me make a call."

~🖤~

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Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

#the royal romance #the royal heir #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #crack fic #trr crack fic #king liam #liam rys #liam x mc #liam x riley #riley brooks #drake walker #eleanor rys #bartie beaumont #bertrand beaumont #leo rys #choices trr fanfic #choices trr au #trr au #trh au

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Warnings: slight angst in the beginning, "reader dies" (but it's her past life??), slight mention of reader getting cut by one of the guards.

I might make a second part to this if anyone would want me to ^_^

The knight and his reunited maiden

Fem! Reader

Tarhos Kovács| the Knight x reader

Blood pooled around the wound on your chest as you feel your body being carried by an vaguely familiar knight. You felt a wave of safety and protection while your vision was slowly starting to fade. The pain that you've felt was now numbing, making your body feel colder.

"Please don't leave me yet, my love.."

The man's muffled voice sounded shakey as he cradles your body in his arms. Soft tears perked on the sides of your face as you looked up to him with the love that he hasn't felt in his lifetime. You were his sun, the sole light of his life and your life was fading away in his arms.

"I love you, dear Tarhos.."

You weakly spoke as you feel a wave of peace and calmness. Tarhos takes off his helmet, his dark eyes were red from the tears streaming down his face. You moved your smaller hand to the side of his face, lovingly stroking his cheek. Giving a weak smile, you uttered your last words.

"We will meet again, my dearest husband"

Your body goes limp in his arms as Tarhos cradles you closer to him as he broke down, losing the very reason for his love and happiness in his arms. It felt like the sun abruptly went out in his life.

The dream was the same one, a constant replay of events you couldn't exactly remember but you could feel that you've had déjà vu about the man in your dream. You know that name was important to you but you didn't know exactly how or why.

The woods around you rustled, the rough hand of David's shook your shoulder, causing you to jolt awake as you looked up to him with a confused look.

"What's going on?"

You asked sleepily, using your hands to wipe the sleep from your eyes. Moving your eyes, you see the familiar shadow of Jake's coat walking towards the source of the noises. Quiet conversations were heard within the group, wondering who's the next poor soul that has to go through this sadistic reality.

Jake came back with a older man. He was obviously attractive to some of the others, othet people were sizing him up to see what use the mysterious grey- haired man to them; but you weren't staring at him for either reason. Seeing the man, it felt like you've seen him before but you know that it wasn't possible to.

The man- now named Vittorio stared back at you, his eyes widened as his face went paled. It was as if he was a ghost when he stared to you. Each of the survivors went around, introducing themselves to Vittorio as his eyes still was looking at you.

It was your turn to introduce yourself, saying your name to the gentleman.

"Good luck out in this place."

You added politely as you thought that it was the end of the conversation with Vittorio. He grabbed your hand to stop you from walking back to your spot in the camp.

"Do you know who you really are?"

His voice was serious as you gave him a confused look on your face. 'What the hell is he talking about?' You thought as you feel the eyes of your fellow survivors watch you.

"Well, Vittorio, i have no clue what you're talking about. I don't know you and you don't know me... If you know what's best for your own ass, you better not make enemies with the very people who will likely save your ass in the future.."

You felt the tension between Vittorio and yourself as you see the others went back to what they were doing before he arrived. From the way his face tenses at your response caused you to feel like you shouldn't fully trust him.

"I don't mean any harm by my words. You just look so familiar to me... reminded me of someone that I've knew a long time ago."

Vittorio explained, knowing that his words weren't taken the right way as he continued to speak.

"I believe we should talk about something that you might need to know.."

You nodded, still not fully trusting him but wanting to know what he meant by concerning you. Walking to your camp sight, you sat near your tent that was a decent distance from the others. He followed behind you, sitting a couple inches away from you.

"What is it that you want to talk to me about?"

You moved a piece of your hair away from your face before looking towards him. Vitorrio sighs quietly, thinking of where to start with the inevitable awkward conversation.

"Have you ever had flashbacks or dreams before? Like you're in the dream but you know it's like another form of you?"

You nodded a bit, eyes widening a bit from his question.

"I know this is going to be hard to believe but please hear me out before making your judgement."

You listened, deciding to give this man a chance to explain before walking away completely. Vittorio took out a small sketch out from his pocket, carefully passing it to you. Opening the paper, you see the sketch was of what looked to be you wearing the same gown as the one in your dreams. Next to you in the sketch was the knight in your dreams, affectionately kissing your hand.

"This is you, or was you in your past life... the man in the picture was your husband.. He's a dangerous man.. I don't know how he's going to respond to seeing you as you..."

A wave of shock and understanding shocked your mind. 'Past life? First I ended up in this hellhole and now I'm hearing this shit.' You thought to yourself as you attempted to pass the sketch back to him.

"Keep it.. it has no use for me now. It might be helpful for you.."

You carefully folded the sketch back, tucking it inside the pocket of your jeans. Silence was thick in between the both of you as you attempted to get your thoughts together.

"What was he like? The knight that apparently I was married to?"

The question came out before you could think about not asking Vittorio. It took him a few moments to think about your question.

"I don't know much about your relationship with him, from the looks of it, the both of you were madly enamored with each other. He has never harmed you that I've known of.. but outside of you and his closest companions, thats another story...."

The hesitation on his face spoke more to you than the words that came from Vittorios mouth. Just before you could pry more answers from him, you were suddenly teleported to another match.

Opening your eyes, you see the mostly burnt village around you. The smell of smoke filled your lungs as you hear the soft crackles of the remaining smaller fires around the new realm. The whole town looked almost exactly like your dream, except it wasn't burnt to ashes.

You carefully walked towards the generator nearby, seeing that Vittorio was already on it with Mikayla quietly setting up a boon nearby. You went on the opposite side, working the same generator. Ace worked on another generator that was at the main building.

You heard a faint heartbeat behind you as you see Mikayla darted away in an attempt to protect herself. You quietly crouch away from the generator, hiding behind a nearby wooden wall. You tried to keep quiet as you hear sounds of metal moving against itself.

Moving your hand over your mouth, you attempted to muffle your breaths as you hear the metal clashing closer and closer to you. The silence was tense as you waited for your chance to flee the area. You were too focused on hiding to notice a green mist circled around the area you were.

You hear an screeching cackle from behind before feeling the jagged dagger suddenly sliced your shoulder. Hissing in pain, you darted away from the guard with your opposite hand holding your shirt against the wound. The sounds of metal moving became louder as you jumped through the window, into the main building.

Ace was long gone, rushing towards a different generator as you push through your pain to wobble up the stairs, the man behind you. You tried to vault through the window but was quickly pinned against the burnt wooden wall. The beating of your heart was thumping rapidly as your eyes meets the slits of the knight in front of you.

Time froze as the both of you looked into each other's eyes, not aware of the sounds of three generators going off. Looking at the male in front of you, it felt like he was reliving long forgotten memories as his hands gently touch your cut before tiying a piece of tattered cloth around the wound, replacing the soiled one you've made.

"Tarhos..? Is that your name..?"

You asked cautiously before taking the folded up sketch from your pocket. His eyes widened as he diverted his gaze towards where your hands were. You unfolded the paper, showing him the sketch. Before you could ask him once more, he pulled you into a deep hug.

#queendeeshorrorimagines #dead by daylight imagine #dbd imagines #tarhos kovács x reader #Tarhos Kovács dbd imagines #Tarhos Kovács imagines #fem reader #dees arnold palmer

[raaorqtpbpdy]

I Hate Mondays

Based on the Phic Phight prompt: Danny gets caught in a time loop on the day he was supposed to die in the portal and become Danny Phantom but for some reason never entered it. He has to relive that day over and over again until he finally steps into the portal and dies. (from @ghostboidanny)

AO3 Link

[Warnings for character death (he gets better though because time loop), and descriptions of death/pain]

The life of a student was already so boring and monotonous that it was hours before Danny realized what was going on. His parents were still sulking about their portal not working. Sam and Tucker met up with him before school, and they made the same idle small talk they always did. School was the same, boring drivel it always was. Mister Lancer even gave the same exact assignment he gave them yesterday.

"Uh... Mr. Lancer?" Danny raised his hand, confused. "Isn't this the same assignment you gave us yesterday?"

"No, I only just printed these worksheets this morning," Mr. Lancer said. "I know High School must seem dreadfully repetitive, but I assure you if you actually pay attention, it's more more tolerable."

Danny shrugged and filled out the worksheet, but he could swear it was exactly the same as the day before. He was looking forward to lunch though. It was Tuesday, and on Tuesdays, the cafeteria had pizza. It was school pizza, but still. However, when he got to the cafeteria, there was no pizza in sight. Instead, there were sloppy joes again, even though that was the Monday menu.

"Hey, how come there's no pizza?" Danny asked the lunch lady when he got to the front of the line.

"Today is Monday, and on Monday, we serve sloppy joes."

"No, yesterday was Monday," Danny disagreed, but she just urged him to take his food and go through the line. When he sat down at his usual table with Sam and Tucker he asked them about it, but they confirmed that it was definitely Monday. Perhaps yesterday had just been a dream. He'd never had a dream so realistic and mundane before, but he'd heard of things like that happening.

He and his friends went to hang out at his house after school, and just like in his dream, they ended up in the lab, next to the non-functioning portal.

"Hey Danny, you should go inside and check it out," Sam suggested, and Danny was getting some serious Déjà vu. He told her the same thing he did in his dream.

"No way! That thing is unstable and unsafe. You see all those exposed wires, I could get electrocuted," he said. "Besides, it doesn't work, anyway. What would be the point in going into a big metal murder tube?"

"Boo!" Sam heckled, but she didn't push him further. Technically, they weren't even supposed to be down in the lab, but as long as they adhered to proper lab safety, his parents wouldn't get mad at them.

The next day, Danny woke up, and everything was the same once again. For the third time, Lancer handed him the same grammar worksheet, and the cafeteria was serving sloppy joes, and Sam tried to get him to go into the non-functioning portal, and he refused. The next day was the same, and the next day as well. The day after that, Danny skipped school and went to the movies. It was supposed to be Saturday anyway, and one day of cutting school wouldn't kill him, even if time moved on the next day.

Another week later, Danny had seen all the movies showing at the local theater, even the stupid animated movie for little kids about a talking frog. It was okay. No matter how many times he skipped school, he never got in trouble because it was still Monday, and no time had passed. He went to the mall, to the museum, to the skate park.

He'd stopped paying too much attention to his surroundings. No matter who he talked to, none of them seemed to be stuck in the same loop of Mondays that he was. The first time he died was on the way home from the skate park. He got hit by a school bus.

At first, he felt pressure, then nothing, too numb with shock. In a haze of disorientation and probably brain damage, all he could see was a splatter of red on the yellow paint, blood pooling beneath him. The the sensations flooded him, like a fire through his bones and needles in his lungs as he choked on his own blood. He heard yelling, then only the ringing in his ears. He smelled metal, then nothing. Everything went black.

Then he woke up in his bed, and it was still Monday morning. His parents were still moping about their portal not working. His sister was still telling them that obsessing over ghosts wasn't healthy and they should find some more realistic interests. Dying had shaken him to his core. For the first time in weeks, he went to school. It was good to really hang out with Sam and Tucker again. They never wanted to skip with him, so the three of them hadn't done all that much together in a while.

It was another few Mondays before Danny stopped being rattled by his death, and was once more overwhelmed by the monotony of his life. He hadn't showered in a month, but he still smelled fresh, because he'd taken one Sunday night, ages ago. He didn't have to clean his clothes, or do dishes.

He'd started teaching himself to draw. He wasn't good at it yet, but he had nothing but time. He'd spent probably thousands of hours on the online NASA space shuttle flight simulator. Anything he could think to do to fill the time, he did. He lost track of how many Mondays it had been.

After so many months of the same damn Monday, Danny started to lose it. He already knew that dying wouldn't break the loop, so he started trying dangerous stunts, just to see what they would feel like. Falling fifty stories actually felt really cool, up until he went splat on the sidewalk, but at least that had been a quick death. Drinking Windex just to see if it tasted like Powerade had totally not been worth it.

Every once in a while, when life got too crazy, like when he'd made himself a bazooka out of scraps from his parents lab, then held up a bank for an hour before being gunned down by police, he would go back to school. He would eat a sloppy joe, and spend time with Sam and Tucker, and after school, they would go hang out at his house, and they'd go to his basement to see the portal his parents had made that never worked, no matter how many Mondays passed by.

"Hey Danny, you should go inside and check it out," Sam suggested for maybe they fiftieth time.

Danny remembered all the times he'd called it a murder tube in the past. Somehow, after over a year of Mondays, he found he didn't care if it was. He could go inside and die of electrocution, and he'd still wake up in his bed, and it would be Monday morning again. "Yeah, alright," he agreed, and changed into his jumpsuit.

Sam stopped him before he went inside to peel the Jack Fenton decal off his chest. He went a few steps in and let Sam take her picture, even though it was pointless, and it would be gone by morning, never having been taken in the first place. He went deeper in, stepping over the wires on the floor. There was a button inside the portal, and Danny, not thinking or caring about the consequences, pushed it.

Danny had experiences dozens of deaths by this point, but none of them had been anywhere near as painful as the one he experienced when the portal activated with him inside. Millions of volts shot through him as an inconceivably huge energy surge tore open a hole between one dimension and the next, right through Danny. He could feel his atoms ionizing, his molecules getting scrambled, his blood evaporating in his veins. He had no idea how long it was before the pain suddenly vanished.

Danny kept his eyes squeezed shut. He was in his bed again, and his parents were downstairs moping because their portal didn't work, and his sister was telling them to grow up and abandon their fanciful notions of ghosts. And no matter how many times he lived today, he would never, ever go into that portal again.

"Danny?" That was Sam's voice. Sam had never been in his room before. His bed was hard. Where... what? "Danny, holy shit, are you... okay?" Finally, Danny opened his eyes, but he wasn't in his room. He was still in the lab. The lights had one out, but everything was cast in a strange, eerie glow.

"What's... going on?" Danny asked, putting a hand to his head. His eyes strayed to his reflection in the glass windows of a cabinet. "Is that... me?" His hair had turned white, and his eyes glowed green. The black and white of his jumpsuit had been inverted.

"Don't freak out, but... we think you might be a ghost," Tucker told him.

"I can't be a ghost," Danny said. "I... there's...." He wanted to say there was no such thing as ghosts but, he was floating. He clearly wasn't human anymore. "It's okay," he said. "This is new, but I'm sure everything will be fine. Tomorrow morning, I'll wake up in bed, and it'll be Monday again, and I'll be human again, and neither of you will even remember this."

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Sam asked. "This isn't the time for jokes, we have to figure out what's going on." Danny turned to look at her, and caught sight of the portal behind her.

"The portal... it's working," he observed, shocked.

"Yeah," Tucker said. "It turned on while you were inside and then you came out looking like that." Danny didn't notice he was hovering toward it until Tucker told him, "Hey, don't go back in!"

"Oh! Sorry, I just... it feel like it's drawing me in or something," Danny said. He tried to stop, but couldn't. The portal pulled him closer and closer. He heard his friends calling his name, but he ignored them as the toxic green portal swallowed him.

On the other side was a citadel, full of floating gears and other clock pieces.

"I'm sorry, Daniel," said an unfamiliar voice behind him. He turned to see a very old man with blue skin and a purple cloak, holding a staff. "I wish that things could be different, but you had to die."

"I died plenty of times," Danny pointed out. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

"You had to go into that portal. You had to die there. I'm sorry, but the world needs you like this."

"Sucks for the world, then, because I'm just gonna be back to normal next time I wake up," Danny said. The old ghost sighed, and waved his staff, and Danny was back in his parents' lab. "Come on," he turned to Sam and Tucker, "Let's get out of here. That portal is giving me the creeps."

Danny couldn't sleep, now that he was a ghost, but he'd tried staying up before. At the stroke of midnight, the loop would restart, and he'd be back in bed, waking up on Monday morning. Midnight came and went, and time moved on, moved forward. It didn't reset. Danny didn't reset. He was still there, still dead, still a ghost. There was no turning back.

#phic phight #phic phight 2023 #fic #things i wrote #dp #danny phantom #full ghost au #danny fenton #time loop

[sad-sad-detective]

All Wrong

Without Aether, everything during the tour goes wrong. But Dewdrop has his packmates by his side.

Or, Dew hurts his knee on stage but Rain and Phantom are here to help.

Please, keep in mind that I hc Dew and Rain as siblings.

Also, English isn't my native language.

Words: 1,437

Tags: non-human ghouls, slice of life, injury, healing, hurt/comfort, implied Aether/Dewdrop

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

From the beginning of this tour, everything went wrong.

Everything fell apart, his effects pedals broke, his monitor burned out, and even the concert guitar, as if sensing its owner's mood, kept trying to cut his fingers with the strings or shut up in the middle of a solo. Normally Dew took setbacks in stride, but this time his patience was wearing thin. The guitar picks melted in his hands, and one of the broken pedals caught fire "by accident" - he blamed it on a malfunction of the pyrotechnics, but Papa still looked at him with a suspicious eye.

But what happened later was the final straw.

He didn't know how it happened: during "Year Zero" his boot slipped on the stage floor and Dew fell on his knee. He felt the impact - and everything went black for a moment. He managed to hide a scream in an expressive gesture. 

As he tried to get up, his knee crunched, sending another shoot of pain. The pyrotechnics on stage worked well: in the darkness that followed, Dew managed to finally get up without embarrassing himself.

Dew had fallen on stage before, but Aether and Rain had been there to make the fall part of the show. Once he had broken his horn during a ritual and Aether had to reattach it. Photos of his shredded hand and bloodied guitar from the last tour were still circulating on social media. But today's incident finally got him.

Of course, Dew completed the ritual. Gritting his teeth behind his mask and carefully ignoring the throbbing pain in his knee, he played his parts, both in the songs and in the show. All this time Rain was giving him strange looks, and during the final bow Aurora took his hand too gently, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, but Dew pretended to be fine until he reached his hotel room and collapsed on the bed.

He healed quickly. Some painkillers to help him sleep, and he'd be fine in the morning. He'd be back to normal before the next ritual. If Aether had been here, he could have...

But Aether wasn't here. Dew took a deep breath and buried his face in the pillow. Five minutes. Five minutes to recover, and then he'd crawl to find painkillers in his travel bag. Aether had insisted that each of them took a personal first-aid kit with them, and had even packed the necessary medications himself.

Without him, everything on the tour was going downhill. That's why Dew's picks melted and his monitors burned; a part of his soul - if ghouls have souls, of course - stayed in Lincopia. A very important part, without which everything seemed wrong and meaningless. No matter how many postcards he sent, no matter how many late-night hours he spent on video calls, it still didn't come back. It only drew him home more.

Someone knocked on the door. Two short taps, then another and two more short taps - someone from his pack.

“I'm not here, I'm dead!” Dew growled. He did not want to get up. His knee responded to every movement with another flash of pain.

“Then we'll have to break down the door to get the body!” Rain's voice came from behind the door. “Papa will be mad!”

“At me or at having to pay for the door?”

His little brother laughed, but when he spoke again, his voice sounded serious, “I brought you some medicine. I can ask the receptionist for a spare key if you... if it hurts to walk.”

“Slip it under the door, I'll get it later," Dew sighed. There was a murmur of voices outside the door. Rain wasn't there alone.

For a moment, Dew felt a sense of déjà vu: here he was in his hotel room, holding a broken horn and wondering how he was going to explain it to Copia, and here were Aether and Cumulus knocking on his door with French fries and a solution.

“It won't fit," Rain said. Dew rolled onto his back and pressed his palms to his face.

“Give me a minute.”

He was so tired, he did not put his mask on. Of course, Papa would have been displeased if he'd known that Dew had been out in the hotel corridor with his face uncovered - what if laymen saw him? - but right now, Dew couldn’t find any fucks to give. Leaning against the wall, Dew waddled to the door and turned the knob, letting Rain into the room.

Dew didn't need to see his brother's face to know that he was worried. It was in the line of his shoulders, in the nervous fidgeting of his fingers. If Rain had a tail in human form, it would have whipped the air.

Rain slipped into the room and immediately offered his shoulder to Dew for support. Another short, slender figure, smelling of moss and sea salt, came through the open door. Phantom.

“What's he doing here?” Dew wondered. It sounded rude, but Phantom didn't seem offended.

“I'm the medicine," he explained with a smile.

Phantom was a strange creature, all sharp-toothed grins and water-viper grace, and his smell was different, not like other quintessence ghouls. His attempts to mimic the behavior of his packmates sometimes was unsettling. However, knowing the circumstances under which he had appeared in Lincopia, Papa's ghouls tried to ignore it as much as possible. Aether even took him under his wing and volunteered to teach him everything from using the Quintessence to playing the guitar.

Dew looked at him in disbelief. Phantom smiled even wider and nodded.

“I'll help you."

The two of them dragged Dew back to the bed. Dew grunted softly, more out of habit than anything else.

“You two should be resting, not fussing over me," he leaned back on the pillow and stretched out his sore leg. “We have to get up early tomorrow.”

“We always have to get up early," Rain settled down beside him. Phantom perched on the edge of the mattress. They both took off their masks, and without them, their glamor disappeared; Rain's tail immediately curled around Dew's healthy leg and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Phantom's thin but strong fingers felt the sore knee gently through the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Sprained and bruised, some bad luck you have," Phantom shook his head sympathetically. “It won't heal overnight... But," he beamed, "I can help with that!”

“You should have asked Phantom to fix you right away," Rain reproached. Dew flattened his ears.

“It would take a long time," he muttered. “I didn't want to keep everyone waiting”.

“Not long," Phantom said, and Rain rolled his eyes.

“You could tell Papa, and he'd give another speech to the crowd. You know how much he likes it," the flat tip of Rain’s tail slapped Dew's thigh. “It'd be just enough time to get you in shape.”

“Now my little brother's lecturing me," Dew grumbled, receiving another hard slap.

“Someone has to look after you.”

“If you return limping to the Abbey, Aether will eat us alive," Phantom added.

Dew sighed. That was certainly a good point.

“Okay," he flicked his tail. “Patch me up, Doc.”

It seemed impossible to smile any wider, but Phantom managed it. His teeth were white and needle-sharp. Dew tensed involuntarily; Rain froze beside him, his tail curling tighter around Dew's leg. Phantom's ears flattened in embarrassment.

“Sorry. Can you... uh... take your pants off?

Dew raised his eyebrow.

“Sorry, but I'm already taken. Besides, Rain's here”.

Rain elbowed his side.

“Direct contact is more effective," Phantom explained, not the least bit embarrassed. “But we can try it anyway”.

He twisted his wrists, clenched and unclenched his fingers, stretched, and then gently touched Dew's knee.

Phantom's magic was strange too. Even through the fabric of his sweatpants, his touch made Dew’s skin prickle, like hundreds of tiny bubbles bursting at once. It felt like putting your hand in a sea wave and feeling the foam settling on your skin.

But Aether had trained him well: it took Phantom only a few seconds to subside the throbbing pain. Dew couldn't hold back a long sigh of relief. Rain chuckled softly and patted his shoulder.

“There you go!” Phantom straightened up with a proud smile. “Now try to bend and straighten your leg, okay?”

Gingerly, Dew obeyed. The swelling was completely gone, and he didn’t feel any pain when he bent his leg and straightened it again. He smiled and gave Phantom a thumbs up.

“Aether has trained you well," he said honestly, getting another toothy grin in return.

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