#gone are the days where i could churn out a couple of these in a night

[areseebee]

Ooh, for the micro fic, can you use "Pretty"?

i certainly can! here's a little something grounded in neither space nor time that i imagine is probably set 1-2 years post-smoke break. includes mentions of OCs liam (erin's post-smoke break bf) and faye (james's post-smoke break gf).

[in reference to this writing ask game that i reblogged earlier!]

Erin finds it easy to forget that she’s dating someone else – told him she loved him and everything only a month ago for Christ’s sake – when she watches James. She’s very good at watching James. If there were a sport for it, she’d be professional. She could get a degree in it. Honours for never getting caught. Extra credit for the most sublime affectation of nonchalance that you could imagine, all while her eyes skim across his face, along his hair, his cheek, his neck. Top marks.

He’s pretty. Not in a pretty boy kind of way. Not just in a pleasing to the eye kind of way. In a kind of way that makes her feel totally delusional just to look at him, like really look at him. He’s just so very James – shoulders sometimes a little hunched, hands sometimes stuffed into his pockets, the edges of his mouth sometimes (always) on a downward trend until they are curving up and up and he smiles and it feels like the fucking sun. Like basking in a late summer golden hour, wishing always to live forever in that moment, liking it all the better because she can’t.

She thinks sometimes she’s the only one who notices. No one else thinks he’s pretty. Well – maybe his girlfriend does. But she can’t really imagine Faye thinking it quite like that. Not like Erin thinks it. Not like Erin feels it – overwhelmed sometimes, basking in him in only the kind of way she thinks she can do.

She watches him and wonders – how would his cheek feel under her hand and how would he kiss her again and what words would he say now, after all this time. She sometimes forgets that she ever got to do any of that. Maybe if she remembered she wouldn’t long for it so much. Maybe if she remembered, she wouldn’t watch him.

Or maybe she does remember. Maybe that’s why she can’t stop.

Sometimes she wonders if he watches too – is he thinking about her when he stands across the room, when he looks her way? Does he take the seat across from her, always now, all the better to see her face?

It’s to create distance, that’s all, is what she tells herself. He never sits just next to her. Not anymore. But sometimes she looks up, eyes skimming over him as if it means nothing, as if she’s not thinking about how long since she last did it, as if she’s hoping no one is noticing that she’s looking at him quite so much, and she’ll find that his eyes are skimming too. No, more than skimming; concentrated right on her face.

And when their eyes meet, it’s always look away, look away as fast as you possibly can, all while a zip of embarrassment and something more – adrenaline – finds its way just as fast through her limbs.

Sometimes she thinks she’s gonna lose it, just totally lose it, thinking about him like this. Like he’s hers. Like he is exactly who is meant for her. Like the next time he even comes close to her, she’s going to totally lose it and kiss him. Like she’s going to confuse this absolutely bonkers fantasy, like she’s going to totally fucking embarrass herself thinking that he wants this too. He doesn’t. She would know. She would know for sure, if he did.

If he cared about her at all, she wouldn’t be wondering. Wouldn’t be thinking about it like this, fixated and distracted and biding time until she can next bloom again under his gaze.

Sometimes she wonders what it’s all for – all of this desire. What does she hope for? What does she want? Does she want him to know? The thought sounds humiliating. Does she want him to want her too? Yes. But she doesn’t know where to put it, all this wanting. Because, laid bare, at the end of it all, she’s not quite sure what’s left. Sometimes she thinks she can see the smoke figures of their future, hers and James's, if there ever was going to be one; one slight breeze blows it all away. 

And Liam. Liam. He’s not smoke. He’s real. And, with him, she’s never left wondering. She’d be so foolish not to choose that.

It always happens this way – when James visits Derry – Erin gets so tired, feels so run ragged from all of the waiting. Waiting until she can see him again, waiting until she catches his eye again, waiting until she gets a wee, tiny shred of evidence that maybe she’s right for reading so much into it. Waiting for the next hit of a glance like her fucking life depends on it. It’s really feeling like her life depends on it. And when Liam, her sweet fella, asks her how her trip home was – was it good? – she will only say that it was “Fine. You know how it is,” and then slip ever more shoddily, ever less surely back into her usual life, counting down the days until the next time.

#gone are the days where i could churn out a couple of these in a night #going to try to do one a day at least #derry girls #james maguire #erin quinn #jerin #my fic #ask #ask game #cranberries ask game #i am realizing now that i have written on a similar kind of theme before and probably did it better then but here i am again anyway #clearly i like the pining and seemingly unrequited infatuation

[trensu]

Steve had always wanted to be a skilled fighter. The schools that churned out the best fighters all happened to be schools for holy warriors. It was possible that Steve maybe sort of lied a little (with the help of his friends Robin and Dustin) to get into this school by claiming he was full to the brim of religious fervor but hadn’t decided who to pledge his sword to yet. It shouldn’t have worked, if he were honest with himself, but by some stroke of luck it did, and he finished his training as one of the top combatants. 

The issue now was that he had to pick a god whose crest to carry. There were all sorts of gods. Gods of water, gods of air, gods of agriculture, war gods, cat gods, plant gods...the list was endless. And while Steve was one of the best fighters around, he was most definitely not one of the best researchers. Thankfully Dustin and Robin were very clever and knew where to find details about the many gods in existence.

“So what kind of god do you want to follow? Maybe we can start there,” Robin asked.

“Uh…a good one?”

“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Dustin grumbled.

They suggested a local god known as Carver who stood for righteousness, but Steve turned that down. It didn't feel like a good fit. They suggested a love god by the name of Chrissy, who valued love of all kinds, romantic, platonic, familial...Steve had been tempted, very tempted, because Steve had always carried an excess of love in his heart. Robin had vetoed that one stating that Steve was already too reckless with his love and she wouldn't stand by and watch him break his own heart over and over again.

Dustin suggested a god of knowledge, Clarke, who blessed and guided those with curiosity, imagination, and a knack for invention. Steve shot that one down immediately. He was never one to be overly imaginative or curious; he preferred to deal with concrete things. Out of their quickly dwindling list, Robin reluctantly suggested Hargrove, a war god favored by a nearby kingdom, but if Carver was ill-fitting, then Hargrove was outright repellent to Steve.

"C'mon, Steve, you gotta pick someone!" Dustin huffed in frustration. 

Robin thunked her head against the table in the library where they were looking up deities. She was obviously at her wit's end too. Steve, however, just dug his heels in with a particularly stubborn scowl.

"I can't just pick anyone!" Steve said. "If I'm going to pledge my sword to someone, it has to be someone...someone good. Someone that, I don't know, someone I can believe in, even when--no especially when things go wrong. That’s the whole point!"

"Yeah, I get that," Robin sighed, a mix of fond and annoyed, "but this is the eighth book we've gone through and the only one left here is called the King of Darkness which is hardly going to--huh."

Robin paused mid-rant to look at the page more closely. Steve and Dustin both huddled around her to peek into the book as well. Dustin also made a sound of curiosity.

"That's weird," Dustin said.

"Right?" Robin asked enthusiastically.

"What? What's weird?" Steve didn't get what caught their attention.

"This god only has a couple of sentences," Dustin explained, "And they don't really make sense. Something about dark creatures and the undeserving? The grammar and structure is all weird though."

"It looks like a half-assed translation," Robin added with a nod. "We should find the original text."

"Yeah! And if we can make a better translation, we could get it added to the next edition and they'd have to put our names on the book," Dustin said excitedly. Robin's eyes lit up at the thought and they both rushed off to the stacks to track down any original sources.

"Guys! Guys, what about my..."

The librarian hushed Steve, irritated. Steve groaned in defeat.

"...godly choices. Yeah, fine," Steve slumped back on his seat. "I need to find non-nerd friends."

Two days later, Robin and Dustin finished translating a slim, dusty book. They were nearly vibrating in their seats as Steve reviewed their notes on what they found. Dustin gripped his arm and gave him a shake.

"So? What do you think?" he asked excitedly.

Robin slung her arm across Steve's shoulders. With more tenderness than Steve expected, she said, "I know it doesn't seem like it, he doesn't really fit with your whole style, but it could work."

"Yeah," Steve said with a hopeful smile. "Yeah, this feels right."

--

It took longer than Steve would've liked, but eventually he managed to track down a small, crumbling shrine. It was an alcove carved near the entrance--no more than a crack in the stone really--of a cave at the edge of a lush forest. He almost missed it, it was so drowned in overgrown crawling vines and weeds. It bore a modest statue, no bigger than Steve, standing atop an equally modest plinth. There was a spot that obviously held a plaque once, but it must’ve been dug out by thieves at some point.

The sight of it made something in Steve's chest twinge; a strange pang of melancholy at seeing a god so forgotten and abandoned. It surprised him as he had never been particularly religious, but there was just something about this one that drew him in.

It was the middle of the day, so Steve quickly made camp and took advantage of the light to begin clearing the shrine. He started where the plaque had been, scrubbing off the dirt and moss that had filled the indentation. He knew a good smith; he could commission a new plaque to be made. After that, he weeded the immediate area around the plinth where worshipers would typically lay their offerings and pray.

By the time he finished that, it was late afternoon and he decided that was good enough for today. He had to eat and get a few hours of sleep so he could be alert once night fell. When he curled up on his bedroll, he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He was going to offer himself to his god tonight, and with any luck, his god would accept him.

--

He woke to a multitude of high pitched squeaks and the sound of many, many flapping wings. The sun had just fully set, and the stars that could be seen through the canopy burned brightly. Steve took his time to fasten on his armor and scabbard properly, and fixed his hair so not a strand was out of place. He took a few deep breaths to calm an unexpected bout of nerves before going to the shrine and kneeling.

His god had no official prayers. Or rather, the prayers for his god were forgotten. Robin and Dustin did their best to find anything prayer-like but it had been in vain. They suspected that most of the god's holy items and lore were purposely lost. Lacking that, Steve decided it was best that he introduce himself.

"Um, hi," he started and immediately winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to...this. I couldn't find any of your…holy words? Prayers? The right ways to speak to you, I guess.

"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington. I'm a fighter. I finished my training a few weeks back. I was the top of my cohort when it came to combat. I'm good with my sword and I know how to take a hit. I can turn just about anything into a weapon if it's needed."

Here Steve paused for a moment, straining to hear but there was nothing other than the typical sounds of a night out in the woods. Steve took a breath and plowed forward.

"I want to be more than a fighter, though. I don't want to just wave a sword around for nothing. I want it to...to matter. So I spent a lot of time trying to decide who to wield my sword for. It took me a while, but I found you. I want to be your shield and sword, if you'll have me."

Steve stopped again to listen. Nothing. Robin warned him this might happen. Gods didn't always accept warriors who offered themselves to them, and forgotten gods weren't always reachable. It was fine, though; he’d try again tomorrow night. Steve turned in just before dawn, eager for night again.

--

Steve worked on clearing the vines tangled around the statue's legs and feet. He yanked out the thick, scraggly vines, and carefully picked apart the prickling thorny ones. There was a particular gnarl of vines that didn't seem like they had a stranglehold on his god's statue. They were healthy and strong, and the way they curled and grew looked more like a caress than an invasion. He decided to leave those on, though he gently rearranged them while removing the more invasive vines so they looked more decorative.

When night arrived with the sound of squeaks and wings, Steve went to kneel at the shrine. He introduced himself again, gave the same spiel as the night before. Still he heard nothing. He scratched the back of his neck in mild insecurity.

“I guess I should tell you I didn’t find you on my own. My friends Robin and Dustin helped me. They’re way smarter than me, you know? Total nerds. I can swing a sword like nothing, but books and research? Yeah, that never works out for me, so they helped me look up all sorts of gods.

“There’s a lot of them. Way more than I thought. Dustin and Robin both recommended me ones or vetoed others. They were getting frustrated with me because I kept rejecting the ones they gave me. 

“Then Robin found you. Kind of by accident, to be honest. But she did her research thing and I knew that I wanted to carry your symbol. It took me forever to find this shrine. Robin said this was probably the only shrine you had left, so I had to find it. 

“Dustin kept saying it was on the other side of the forest, but obviously he was wrong. Not that he’ll ever admit it, the little shit, but whatever. I’m sorry your shrine was abandoned like this, but I promise I’ll fix it up. I’m good with my hands, I can do it.”

There was no response to his admittedly disorganized ramble. It was fine, he told himself. He needed to be patient. He’d come back the next night.

–

Around the statue’s waist there was another tangled mess of vines, except these vines had died and rotted to dark sludge. There was fungus growing on it, and it reeked. It was gross. Steve scrubbed at it for hours because the rot had stained the stone. He was able to get rid of the rot and most of the stains before going to catch a few hours of sleep in the afternoon.

Night fell and Steve was kneeling for the third time. He repeated most of what he said the previous two nights. There was still no response. He thought maybe he was pushing too hard. He’d never been the super talkative type anyway. He could share the quiet night with his god, if that was what his god wanted.

A few hours passed when he was startled out of his near meditative state by the sound of snapping twigs. He leapt to his feet, hand on his scabbard. Someone–a man by the look of it–stumbled out of the woods. He was pale and dark haired, dressed in ragged clothes that were probably awful even when they were new. He looked like a vagabond. 

Steve stepped in front of the shrine, protectively. The stranger grinned at him and Steve could already tell he was not going to enjoy the conversation that was about to happen.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Steve asked firmly, cutting the man off before he could speak. The smile only grew wider.

“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” the man said, adopting the annoyed huff of a wealthy lord. Steve scowled.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second!”

“You didn’t ask me anything,” Steve responded, somewhat smug. The man paused and then snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“What are you doing here? Who are you?” Steve repeated shortly. The teasing grin was back, and Steve felt his scowl deepen.

“Nothing and no one, m’lord,” the man bows mockingly.

“I’m not a lord.”

“Huh. Could’ve fooled me. You’re certainly as demanding as any lord I’ve ever met.”

“Oh fuck you,” Steve snapped. “I’m a holy warrior.”

The man laughed at him outright.

“Well that doesn’t sound very holy warrior-ish. Are your type allowed to swear?”

Steve grinded his teeth and decided it was not worth it to continue this conversation for much longer.

“Look, if you’re here to steal, I’ve got nothing on me.”

“That’s exactly what someone with something to steal would say.”

“Well, I don’t! I’m on a pilgrimage and I don’t want to spill blood on holy ground. So.” Steve wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Leave. Please.”

“Holy ground? Here?” the man barks out a laugh. “Don’t you know what this place is?”

“Yes,” Steve says shortly, placing himself more firmly between the shrine and the man. “Please leave. There shouldn’t be violence done here.”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that. This place used to belong to the King of Darkness. It’s said he was so evil that nothing grew here until he was run out and defeated by the god of righteousness. You know the one. Really plays up the holier than thou thing by making his hair all gold and glowy? Gotta say, you could give him a run for his money though.”

“You’re wrong.”

“No really! Your hair is great. Way better than Carver, even with the glowy thing.” 

“Not that!” Steve said in frustration. This guy really liked the sound of his own voice and Steve was starting to get a headache. It was near dawn and all he wanted was to spend the last hour or so in the quiet night with his god.

“So you agree your hair is better than a god’s?” The man tsks at him. “That’s pretty blasphemous. Are you sure you’re a holy warrior?”

“No! I mean, yes. Wait,” Steve growls at his own bumbling. “No, I’m not better than any god. But I am a holy warrior. Kind of.”

“Kind of.”

“Look, I’m working on it so I need you to leave. You’ve insulted him enough already.”

“Your god is the King of Dark–”

“Call him that again, and I will draw my sword,” Steve said, voice steely. “He’s the Lord of Night, and I won’t let you insult him at his own shrine.”

The man goes quiet for the first time since he showed up. He looked almost surprised, his mocking grin gone. His eyes flicked over to the dilapidated statue and then back at Steve.

“Lord of Night doesn’t sound much different than what I called him,” the man said lightly.

“Well, it is,” Steve told him. “Now, will you please leave?”

The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, alright.” And then he left as suddenly as he had arrived.

The tension that had built up in Steve’s shoulders drained away. He went back to kneel in front of the shrine again when he noticed the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. He cursed under his breath then was hit with a wave of embarrassment at cursing in front of the shrine and the whole situation that had transpired.

“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, abashed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

–

It happened again.

now with an additional snippet here and here

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you'd like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

#trensu tells stories #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eddie munson #i don't even know what to call this #it's an idea i'm playing with but i don't know how well it works #if you're curious about the setting so am i! #if you figure it out do me a favor and tell me what it is #i have more written but it's not done #i'm hoping to post it as a oneshot on ao3 when i finish it #IF i finish it #we'll see i guess #ETA #came up with a title/tag for this #stasis in darkness

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

♡ chronicle #2 : bring your dragon to work day ♡

wc : 3739

"what do you do at this job of yours, anyway ?"

"hm ?"

bakugou wants to see where you work.

he loves to act like he isn't, but he is curious to know where you fuck off to everyday, except on wednesdays.

he grunts from where he's sitting across from you at the kitchen table. you're supposed to be leaving for work in about 30 minutes and this was the first thing he'd said to you since you first woke up, besides grunting out a greeting when you had told him goodmorning.

" your job," he grumbles "what do you even do ? you're gone for so long." he dips his spoon inside his bowl absentmindedly a couple times, messing with his soggy cereal. you have half a mind to scold him and tell him to not play with his food until you realise you'd sound like some overbearing mother.

and that he could burn you to a crisp right now if he so chose to, of course.

"oh" you hum, trying your best to talk properly despite eating "'m an accountant." you giggle at how he looks at you like you had spoken a lovecraftian language, his eyebrows pinched and a little frown pulling at his lips, as you expected.

"it's boring stuff, don't worry about it." you wave off. he furrows his eyebrows even harder at that. the idea of him not understanding some puny human trade frustrates him harder than he'd rather admit.

he huffs, stabbing his spoon into his cereal "don't compare you're species' water flea attention span to mine, human. 'm plenty capable of being entertained by your human.." he pouts as he thinks "jargon" is what he settles with, you giggle. he frowns harder, somehow, cheeks dusting a light pinkish color as he scoffs.

"it's not to insult you, mr. oh so powerful dragon man" you joke, causing him to growl at you. you hold back a giggle but you can't keep the smartass smirk that forms on your lips, it feels good to get back at him from time to time.

"it's all about staring at a computer screen n' typing numbers, you wouldn't like it, i honestly get bored of it, too." you finish the last of your cereal and walk off to place it in the sink, you've selfishly gotten used to bakugo doing them by the time you're back from work (he's suprisingly very neat).

"of course you do. you humans always need to be entertained, have someone put on a show for you, 'ts pathetic"

"says the guy who binged the entirety of downtown abbey in one sitting." you quip.

he spins around to look at you wide eyed and you can't stop the ugly snort that leaks out. he glares and growls at you, ears pink as he sputters for something to say, a mix of insults and excuses pouring out of his mouth "yeah, yeah i get it, i get it. no need to explain yourself to me" you smirk "i am but a puny human, after all." you finish smugly, he all but gives you the nastiest glare, trying to burn you alive with his stare alone, knowing he very much could. right now.

and yet he doesn't. he refrains from questioning as to why and simply growls at you, then leans forward and snaps at you like a rabid dog. you squeal and run off to your room to change, giggling to yourself.

he shakes his head, a ghost of a smile on his face before the thought crosses his mind again.

bakugou wants to see where you work, he wants to know how you work. and maybe, just maybe, he's a little curious about what you're like at work. are you as quippy and annoyingly witty and cheeky as you are with him, a dragon as powerful as him who could easily destroy more than just the wall of your apartment ? do you also share food and watch rom-coms and scrunch your nose in that stupidly cute way you do when you try to hold back your laughter with your coworkers ? do you pout at the people at your job the way you do at him when you notice how he had managed to sneakily steal a bite of your food ?

the thought makes something nasty churn inside his stomach, something he can't explain quite well, but doesn't like at all.

you come back out then, dressed up all proper, different than what you look like from when you have your movie marathons, that's one thing your other stupid human coworkers don't get to see, he knows. something akin to smugness bubbles up in his chest, he quickly brushes it off.

"alright, i'm off" you sigh, looking at your phone camera to fix up anything that seemed out of place. you absentmindedly pick at something on your jacket as you speak "i'll be back by 8 if everything goes according to plan" you reassure, you notice he's a little bit of a stickler and likes keeping things on schedule, getting a little antsy angry whenever you're not back by the time you usually are. he merely grunts in response, gulping the last of his cereal down, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows—you look away.

he grabs your wrist when you pass by him, you let out a suprised little gasp. he glowers at you, deep red eyes focused on yours as he seems to be debating with himself on what to say.

"what's up ?" you stutter quietly, you don't dare speak louder.

"i—wanna see.." he looks away, his grip on your arm tightens slightly "where you work" he's staring at you intently. you want to look away, but you can't.

"you really wanna see where i work that bad ? you really won’t like it." your answer comes out somehow breathy, but there's a joking tone to your voice. he keeps leering at you and you know you have your answer.

"i—" you sigh, looking down at your phone's clock , you have to leave in a few minutes to catch your train. "i can take you." he sits up a little straighter, his tail rising from where it’s propped on on chair "but !" you continue " knowing you— you'd end up burning some of my coworkers. sure, some of 'em deserve to get roasted a little, but that wouldn't be good for me." you lean forward to pet his head, you notice and ignore how soft his hair is "we're gonna have to write that off for another time." you jest softly, snorting when he smacks your hand away. (you don't seem to notice how red he's gotten from the simple touch). "when the hell is that ?!" he growls after you as you walk off.

"when you learn to behave !" you call back from the front door before he hears it close. he scoffs to himself, sulking off to wash the dishes you'd left behind.

him ? learn to behave ? like he couldn't already ! he was being pretty well behaved for not chomping you and your stupid job up right fuckin' now !

"learn how to behave, my ass." he mutters bitterly to himself, scrubbing aggresively at a particularly sticky piece of food.

he could behave, he could behave so fuckin' well you'd be suprised at it !

and he'd prove it to you.

your office building is suprisingly big.

of course, nowhere near as big as his hoard, but it's getting there.

tracking down your scent wasn't hard considering he's been staying with you for a while now. he found your building rather quickly in his dragon form (optic perception on, of course. humans get freaked out too easily).

he could definitely get you here way faster than that tiny cramped metal box you call a "train", he shoves that thought to the side for now.

bakugou katsuki is a selfish being, he lives true to himself and fights for what he believes he deserves. he's stubborn, headstrong and he does not submit to anyone. nobody. absolutely no one.

but for a second he thinks, maybe, he should've listened to you and stayed his ass home.

the building is way bigger than it looks from the outside, bigger than the fortresses filled with piles upon piles of gold and jewelry he'd seen back in his homelands. the pristene white walls damn near make him dizzy and the smell of plastic, hand sinitizer and coffee fills his nose. this complex is crawling with humans, he can smell it. he can see it. they're walking, talking amongst themselves, running, talking on the phone, constantly moving. except for one sitting at a desk. he decides his best bet is them.

he walks up to a woman, who greets him with a bright smile and a polite "good morning sir, how may i help you ?" katsuki bets she wouldn't have talked to him so casually if he wasn't hiding his horns, wings and tail.(humans get freaked out way too easily, pathetic.) the woman has some sort of card dangling around her neck, was she owned by someone ? he can just barely read the small letters "secretary". was that her function ?

whatever it is, this human says she can apparently help him. but c'mon, he's a fearsome, powerful dragon. as if he needed help from some-

" i need to find someone."

katsuki feels likes he's going to lose his mind.

humans are far more dreadful than he’d imagined, he won't say it out loud, but he won't underestimate them from now on.

the secretary, upon finding out that he was here for you( it took them about 10 minutes to figure out was you he was looking for, fuck you for not telling him humans worked in different building blocks) proceeded to give him directions to your block. okay, not too bad.

except it's been 20. fucking. minutes. and still no sight of you.

this should've been easy. he had travelled through the havenfall forest like it was nothing. crossed throught the yonara sea with nothing but the scales on his back. this really should've been easy.

when he thinks about it, that secretary probably set him up. maybe instead of going left, he was meant to go right and she had purposefully tricked him. truthfully, it wouldn't surprise him, humans were vile tricksters after all.

this is the 6th left he's taken, he counted. and he somehow ended up in block f. you're in block c.

humans were vile fucking fiends.

that secretary was definitely praying on his downfall, she must've sensed his astronomical mana output and decided to plot against him. there are too many humans walking around and it's seriously messing with him. he could've caught your scent if it didn't stink of sweat, sanitizer and so much fucking coffee.

maybe he should just make it easier for himself by burning every one of these vile fucking mortals to a crisp-

" knowing you- you'd end up burning some of my coworkers. sure, some of 'em deserve to get roasted a little, but that wouldn't be good for me."

katsuki takes a deep, coffee filled breath and trudges on, trying to catch even the faintest hint of your scent, relying solely on his instincts, fuck the secretary and her godforsaken instructions.

he'd find you all by his-fuckin'-self. who needs help from those rotten humans anyway.

he'd show you he could behave.

"l/n, someone's here for you !"

you lift your head up to glance curiously at your coworker sachi, she gestures for you to wait when you mouth "who ?" silently. her head pops past the door frame, dark brown curls bouncing around as she gives you a look, eyebrow raised.

"says his name is bakugou."

huh ???????!!

you must look beyond surprised because your expression seems to alarm your coworker. you hear her tell bakugou to wait a minute before she's speedwalking over to you, grabbing an office chair from your absent coworker next to you and sits down.

"do you know him?" she questions, playing around with her badge absentmindedly. you snap out of your stupor and groan, rubbing at your forehead "unfortunately" you grumble.

her face changes from mildly amused to serious "need me to get 'im out ?" you quickly shake your head " no, no ! don't worry he's not like that!" she still seems suspiscious , but tilts her head to the side, coaxing you to say more.

"he's.." you pause "a friend—of sorts"

"of sorts ?" she repeats

you nod "of sorts."

"..sooo…with benefits orr..?"

you sit up, revolted "get your mind out of the gutter, you dog !" you groan, covering your face with your hands.

she leans back and barks out a loud laugh "m'just askin' ! so, just a friend, then ?" you nod. "kay, got it..what's he here for ?"

"i'd love to know !" you exclaim "i don't know why he can't just stay at home—"

"at home ? what, he lives with you ?" she seems even more amused and intrigued "you bitch ! you're supposed to tell me if you get a boyfriend, i'm trynna live the office rom-com best friend experience !" she giggles with a cat-like grin, looking utterly too pleased with herself.

"it's not like that !" you moan "it isn't—he's not my boyfriend, first of all" you glare at her seriously but you can feel the immense heat gathering in your cheeks, your voice trails off towards the end of your sentence. sachi doesn't look the least bit convinced as she gives you a half assed "uh-huuuuh.."

"he's my roommate..of sorts" sachi snorts "he got evicted from his flat and he's staying with me until he's back on his feet !" you speak rapidly, hoping the story you cooked up in .2 seconds sounded somewhat believable.

sachi giggles some more before shaking her head " alright well, don't let him take advantage of your kindess, you know what doja said." she concludes, before walking back off the her own cubicle, not before telling your dragon companion you'd "be there in a sec."

bakugou looks like he's been through the cold war when you see him.

he's heaving, fuming. glaring hard at you. you're so confused you forgot were supposed to be mad at him.

"ba—"

"no." he growls, lifting his hand up to silence you. "shut up. i'm talking." his voice is this close to cracking, you're starting to get a little worried about him so you simply nod silently.

"i've been stuck, walking around aimlessly in this..prison realm. for two. fucking. hours." he gasps. looking down at the floor with his hands tightened into fists. you can't tell if he's shaking from anger or if he's about to cry, you feel a little sorry for him but you can't help but find it a little funny the great dragon man has been reduced to this from just two hours inside your office building, you can unfortunately relate a little too well.

"can you imagine that ?!"

"i can, actually, i work here—"

"it's a fucking nightmare !" he interrupts, you're not even sure he can hear you. "this place is a fuckin' maze , there are way too many blocks, why do you anthropoids even need a fuckin' block z ?!" he cursed, you snort. "that stupid secretary woman set me up 'take a left right at the second hallway and you're there !' my ass ! i'd like to see her take a left towards the gates of the underworld !" you laugh out loud as he very crudely mimics mayu's voice, the wretched secretary he'd encountered.

"don't be mean, mayu's real sweet" you jest. his eye twitches and he glares at you in disbelief. his expression is near cartoonish and you can't help the giggles that keep bubbling from your mouth.

"sweet, my ass ! the witch lied to me ! had me walkin' around this fuckin' deathtrap from front to back ! there are too many damn people around and it reeks of goddamn coffee!" hes heaving by the time he's done, you feel a little bad for laughing. being thrown in such an unknown environment must've been more than a little shocking.

except he wasn't thrown anywhere, he had decided to be a stubborn little shit and not listen to you, so you really didn't feel all that bad.

"well..." you sing "i told you it would be boring". he huffs, then scoffs at you, crossing his arms "nothin' boring about any of this."

"you could've just stayed home, y'know?" you quip

he scoffs again, like he wasn’t just having a breakdown three seconds ago. "i don’t take orders from anyone, much less from you, shitty human."

"right." you shake your head, though the grin on your face remains.

there is definitely nothing boring as long as bakugou's involved.

it's quiet until he mumbles something you can't quit catch, "hm?" you hum "i proved you wrong" he grumbles, abnormaly quiet.

"about what ?" you question

he looks up at you, smirking smugly " 'bout me not being able to behave, didn't kill any of your shitty human companions even though i had every right to" he huffs, cockily raising his nose up at you.

" there are plenty of people who dont go around killing others, yknow ? here, we call that being a normal human being" you laugh when his grin immediatly falls "though i suppose i can compliment you, you exceeded my expectations."

katsuki scoffs for the umpteenth time, head raised high again. he refrains from mentioning how he thought about burning the place down more times than he could count.

"is that really all you did this for ? to prove me wrong ?" you chortle incredulously " you're truly unbelievable."

"tch. s'not it, you shitty human" he grumbles, you tilt your head. "i told you why.." he mutters quietly. he won’t meet you eye like he so proudly did earlier, looking anywhere but you. it clicks.

you gasp "you really wanted to see me at work that bad?" he growls lowly to himself and you know you have your answer. "hey, it's really nothing special, i told you it's boring stuff, to everyone, no offense." you jest softly, walking a little closer to him. he squints at the wall next to you and sniffs, but doesn't back away. he meets your eye again then and you feel just like you did when he first appeared a few weeks ago, when you felt like you couldn't move, when being with him felt so..right.

"s'not about it being boring" he says lowly, lowering his head towards you "s'not about you sittin at a computer or the stupid numbers." his stare is intense, it feels like he's looking through you. "it's about.." he trails off, taking a breath as his cheeks darken the slightest bit, you can see it well with how close your standing.

" 'ts about—i wanted to—fuck— i wanted to see you" he spits "i wanted to see if you act the same at your stupid job than when you're with me. wanted to know what's so special about this shitty place that has you dressin' up an' stayin' late. i—" he cuts himself off and looks away again, shame crawling up his back as he realizes how far he's fallen, for a human.

and it barely bothers him at all.

he's quiet again and he looks down at the carpet design on the floor. you haven't known bakugou for all that long, but you think you understand what he meant. it warms your heart that despite acting mostly indifferent, he wants to know more about you as much as you want to know more about him. it makes you think about how you're both mysterious to each other in your own ways. him being a dragon and you simply being a human.

or maybe it makes you a smidge happier that he wants to know more about you. just like you want to know more about him

you probably shouldn't, but you reach up on your toes a little to rub at his suprisingly soft, blond spiky hair. it feels nice between your fingers, it feels right.

"i appreciate it" you whisper softly scratching at where his horns would be, you’re not used to them not being there "you did a good job today" you hum.

you congratulate him despite claiming he was just doing what a normal human being would do minutes ago, but katsuki can't bring himself to care when you're hands feel so good, so right in his hair.

he tells himself it's because he's tired that he isn't smacking your hand away like this morning (which he secretly regrets). he's had an extremely tiring day and he can't give enough of a shit to stop you, he won't let this slide as easily next time, he tells himself.

so for now, he allows it as he leans against your hand a little more—and fuuuck does it feel good.

you catch a slight purr like noise coming from him as he leans into your touch more, you decide not to comment on it, for now.

when you pull away, you don't fail to notice the way his head follows your warmth for a second before he retracts fully, slowly blinking at you sleepily, today must've been tiring for him.

"lemme go get my stuff and we can go home, hm ? think you've had enough of the office life for today." you chuckle.

we can go home. he likes the way that sounds.

he grunts in agreement, toeing roughly at something on the floor with his shoes "don't wanna step foot in this place ever again" his ears prick up at your laughter and just this once, he refrains from commenting when you sing out a "told you so ! "

when you’ve returned you're throwing your bag over your shoulder and already looking at the next hour for your train when bakugou stops you with a smirk, telling you he has another, faster way. ( thinking back on it now—you should never have trusted that damn smirk)

today, you rode home on a dragon—for the first and most definitely—the last time.

whooo this one was a lil extra long , i hope you enjoy ! i had alot of fun writing it ! <3 also the more cultured ones among you mightve seen that i did infact steal the havenfall forest and the yonara sea names from yuzuyas fantasy series LMFAOO, go check him out on yt his audios absolutely smack

taglist : @rosemarygalaxy @slashersl0t @guccirosegold

#bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #fire breathing roommate chronicles

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Five]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: The part you've probably all been waiting for is finally here and I'm dying to see reactions to this one! Also, I have no idea why tags aren't working for a couple of you, I tried a few times to get them to work but I blame tumblr, I'm sorry! As always, Feedback is always appreciated!

Lying in bed with your sheets pulled up to your chin, it felt like the entire room around you was spinning. Even with your eyes clamped tightly shut, you could feel that uncomfortable churning in your stomach, that dizzying sensation making it feel like your bed was rocking back and forth on the ocean. You’d been lying there for at least a half an hour now, practically begging the higher powers above to give you just one night where you could fall straight to sleep without feeling like you were going to be sick.

Your morning sickness had only gotten worse now that you were entering the ninth week. And you absolutely hated the deceiving term of 'morning sickness' considering the fact that you’d thrown up a handful of times over the past few days now, and most of those times were not in the morning. It affected you on and off throughout the day, and almost always hitting you as you were relaxing and trying to fall asleep.

That telltale feeling quickly began to creep back up on you, your saliva pooling in your mouth. You winced, groaning and burying your face into your pillow as you swallowed, hoping to stop what was about to come. But the saliva only pooled more along your tongue as you felt your stomach give an uncomfortable lurch. The contents within it abruptly surged their way upwards with barely any warning.

Kicking your sheets off of yourself, you tossed your legs over the side of your bed. You threw a hand over your mouth as you hurried out of the bedroom, racing across the hall to your bathroom. You’d barely managed to flip the light on before dropping down to your knees in front of your toilet. Lifting the seat up and lowering your face above the bowl, you began to violently empty your stomach. 

By the time you’d finished retching, you pathetically slumped on the floor before the toilet, running a hand across your sweat-dampened forehead. Groaning miserably, your eyes closed as you cringed at the disgusting taste in your mouth. Though thankfully the longer you sat on the cool tile of your bathroom floor, the more your nausea and dizziness began to subside. 

“This is such bullshit,” you moaned to yourself. “Why does every part of this have to be so awful?”

It was a few minutes that you sat hunched on the floor in front of the toilet before you finally felt like you weren’t going to be sick again. Gradually you pushed yourself up from the bathroom floor, making your way over to your sink. Picking up your toothbrush from its holder, you got it wet and covered it in toothpaste before you began to vigorously brush the disgusting taste from your mouth. At least now that you’d gotten sick and gotten that out of your system, you could hopefully get comfortable in bed and fall asleep this time. That’s how things had gone the last few nights at least; the nausea seemed to disappear once you finally got sick.

Finished brushing your teeth, you rinsed off your toothbrush and put it away. After, you turned off the faucet and dried your face and hands on the nearby towel. Exhausted, you stepped out of the bathroom, flipping off the light as you went, but you’d barely reached your bedroom before you froze at the sound of your name being spoken through the silence of your apartment.

Fear shot through you immediately, the hair bristling on the back of your neck as you spun on your heel. A soft, surprised gasp slipped out of your lips when you spotted Daredevil standing just at the edge of your hallway, the faint light trickling past the curtain-covered windows in your living room casting dark shadows across his masked face.

You stood there in shock for a moment, trying to comprehend the fact that Matt was even here in your apartment. He’d called you again just earlier today, but you’d once again refused to answer your phone for him. And now here he was, just letting himself into your apartment like he always used to do. As if he was still welcome here. The thought of that had your anger soon reigniting within you, your hands curling into fists at your sides. You saw the way Matt stiffened in response, clearly picking up on the sudden shift in your mood.

“So you think you can just break into my apartment now, do you?” you hissed. “After everything?”

“I came here to talk,” he replied, an edge to his tone. “Because you certainly weren’t answering your phone. I’ve been trying to call you for weeks.”

A bitter laugh fell out of you, your arms coming to cross over your chest in agitation. You ignored the way your breasts ached at the gesture, too angry to care about that.

“Maybe I didn’t want to talk to you after the way you ended things,” you shot back. “Maybe that’s why I wasn’t answering your calls, Matthew .”

The corner of his lip curled back at your words and the way you’d shot his full name out at him, as if it had physically hurt him as he winced in pain. Good, you hoped the bite in your words hurt. He deserved it after how he’d hurt you.

He opened his mouth to respond, but you saw him close it again almost immediately. His head canted to the side, the gesture which you knew meant he’d picked up on something with his senses. A different kind of fear rippled through you next, wondering just what he’d noticed.

“Are you sick?” he asked, his tone softening.

You scoffed at the question, shaking your head. So he’d noticed you’d been throwing up. You hoped the smell of your sick lingering in the air would send him away. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have right now; all you wanted to do was go to sleep. You were exhausted from your work week on top of everything else, you didn’t need a vigilante ex-boyfriend breaking and entering on a Thursday night just to fight with you.

“No, I’m not sick,” you snapped. “Not that you’d care anyway.”

“Of course I’d care,” he immediately disagreed.

“Sure as shit didn’t care when you ended things,” you spat back. “Couldn’t care enough to give me a single evening of your time. So don't tell me you suddenly care now, Matthew .”

Matt’s body went rigid, something dark crossing his masked features. A bit of the Devil was peeking through right now, you could see that. Because you’d touched a nerve of some sort.

“I wasn’t the one who ended things,” he replied, his voice rough and low. “ You did that. I came here to apologize for how I’d treated you that night and for all those times I’d broken promises to you. That’s why I’m here.”

Your brows shot up onto your forehead in shock, your mouth falling open. He thought you had ended things? With everything he’d been doing, all the promises he’d broken and the way he’d slammed that door on his way out that night–he had the audacity to claim you broke up with him ? Your fury only coiled tighter as you glared back at Matt, shoulders squaring as you held your ground, desperate to unleash the pain you’d been holding back for weeks.

“ I didn’t end the relationship, Matt,” you retorted, tears brimming in your eyes. “That was entirely on you when you chose to walk out that goddamn door and put Hell’s Kitchen over me. Like you did night after fucking night. For weeks . Because that’s all you fucking care about, isn’t it? This goddamn city. When it comes right down to it, you’d choose this city over me. That’s what you proved to me, Matthew."

Inhaling a sharp breath as you saw his lips thin out along his face at your accusation, you realized you couldn’t stop the words that were about to come flying out of you. Because for weeks now you'd wanted to hurl them at him like knives, hoping they’d hit their mark and wound him.

“You did this, Matthew,” you growled, pointing a firm, accusatory finger at his chest as that rage and pain finally loosed itself on your tongue. “You abandoned me–abandoned us . That is on you.”

“I didn’t abandon–” he began, stopping almost instantly.

His head yet again canted to the side and you swore you could almost hear his thoughts suddenly racing. 

“What?” he asked sharply. “ Us ?”

There was a pause that followed his question, Matt’s entire body frozen on the spot–until his head abruptly shifted. You watched as his head tilted a few different times in confusion, his lips twisting beneath the hard line of his mask. And then the red lenses of his mask finally found their focus–fixed on your abdomen. His mouth fell open in shock as he stood there speechless, the tension quickly leaving his body as if he'd lost all of his fight in that instant.

"You're–you're pregnant?" he breathed out.

"Yes, I am," you answered.

As he continued to openly gawk, your arms lowered, wrapping protectively over your stomach. Matt took a cautious, hesitant step towards you, his gloved hand reaching out. Though he promptly stopped himself in his tracks, his hand frozen and left hovering between the pair of you.

"Why did you never say anything?" he asked softly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

A humorless bark of laughter flew out of you at that. What a ridiculous question to ask. As if you hadn't made an attempt to tell him.

"I tried to tell you," you said bitterly. "That night I practically begged you to stay with me, Matt. The night you walked out that door and chose Hell’s Kitchen instead. After that, I hadn't been able to bring myself to talk to you. Couldn’t look at you and tell you."

His hand that had been hovering in the space between you both continued its way up, pulling the mask from his head and revealing his stunned expression and mussed hair. There wasn't an ounce of anger anywhere on his features in the dark, his sightless eyes still fixed on your abdomen. Most likely tuned into the small, fast heartbeat there. 

"I–I didn't know," he choked out, shaking his head. "I am… so sorry, sweetheart."

"Don't," you warned him, eyes narrowing. "Don't call me that, Matt. I'm not your sweetheart ," you bit out. "I'm not any of that to you anymore."

Matt visibly shrunk back, wincing at your words. His gloved hands nervously fidgeted with the mask he held between them both as you saw his throat bob with a hard swallow. 

"I'm sorry," he breathed out, his face contorting with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I was–was such an asshole. You didn't deserve that. Any of it."

"No, I didn't," you agreed. "You turned into a different person, Matt. One I didn't recognize. But maybe that’s who you really are."

"I thought you were trying to give me an ultimatum," he confessed, his voice tight with emotion. "That night. That's what I thought. That you were going to tell me I had to pick you or Daredevil and I–I was hurt and angry. Because I thought you knew I couldn't give that part of myself up completely. I thought you’d accepted that side of me."

"I would never have done that," you told him. "You certainly need to learn how to compromise and how to figure out what is truly a priority, Matt, but I would never have forced you to choose one or the other. Because I loved you for all of you. I'd always told you that."

"I know, you're right," he said, nodding quickly as he took another step closer. "I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I fucked up, I know I did. And I'm sorry. So incredibly sorry. You deserve better and I want to make it up to you. To fix things."

You shook your head, taking a step back from Matt. His face fell instantly at the physical distance, his eyes pinching tight.

"You can't fix this, Matt," you told him, waving a hand between the pair of you. "You walked out on me–on us. You'd been breaking promise after promise to me for weeks. I don't trust you anymore, don't you get that?"

"What do you mean?" he whispered, his face twisting in pained confusion. "Of course you can trust me. I love you. I'd never hurt you. Either of you."

You grimaced at the way he said he loved you, your heart constricting in your chest. What you wouldn't give for the situation to be different, to be able to have those words not feel like shards of glass tearing you open as they came out of his mouth.

"I don't trust that you'll do what you say," you countered. "I don't trust that you'll be there for me when I need you. I don't trust that anything else could ever mean more to you than this city, Matt. We would only ever come second, and that's not enough."

In the dim light coming from your living room windows behind Matt, you could see the glisten of tears in his eyes. His face further scrunched up as he tried to fight back his tears, roughly shaking his head at you. 

"That's not true," he said softly, the words breaking. "That could never be true." 

He sniffled loudly, the sound shattering your heart even further. As angry as you'd been at him and as much as you'd wanted to hurt him for weeks now, actually seeing him so emotionally distraught didn't make you feel any better. If anything you just felt worse about this entire disappointing situation. His actions had only left you both broken and lonely.

"I'd never pick anything before you or my own child," he assured you. " Never ."

A few tears slipped down your cheeks, the warmth of them a noticeable contrast to the cool air of your apartment. Your arms hugged your abdomen tighter as your lips trembled.

"I don't believe you, Matt," you whispered. 

His face tightened further, a choked sob falling out of him. You grimaced at the sight, your own tears starting to fall faster. It felt like your heart was breaking all over again right now having this conversation. Having to tell him the things you knew you needed to. 

"I would never keep you from your child, Matt," you began slowly, trying to keep your voice steady, "but I'll be the one raising this baby. Alone."

"No," he disagreed quickly, shaking his head at you. "No, don't say that. You won't do this alone. I want to be here for you. I want to be a part of this. To do this together ."

Jaw tightening, your fingers gripped the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. You wanted that, you really did, but not after what he’d put you through for the past few weeks. You couldn’t handle navigating pregnancy and raising a young child with a father who was unreliable, always in and out of the picture at their own leisure. That would only make things worse, and it would only hurt you and eventually this child more.

“We can’t, Matt,” you said, forcing the words out. “I can’t depend on you. And if I can’t depend on you–if I can’t trust that you’ll be there when we need you–then I don’t want that. Because you’ll only cause more pain.” 

You bit your lip, struggling to get the words out as you watched Matt crumple to his knees before you. He was openly weeping now, each strangled sob only causing your heart to ache further. There was no pleasure to be gained in watching how broken he looked right now, bent in half on his knees before you with tears streaming down his face, but you knew this was what you needed to do.

“If the responsibilities of a committed relationship were already too much for you,” you continued, voice cracking on a few words, “then I don’t think you’re ready to be a father, Matt. Not like that. Not now, at least.”

“Sweetheart, don’t,” he choked out. “Please.”

Eyes snapping shut at his plea, you couldn’t look at him as you forced yourself to finish what you knew you had to tell him. It was for the best in the end. 

“I’m nine weeks along,” you told him, eyes still clamped shut. “So there’s–there’s not really anything for you to be a part of at the moment, Matt.” Swallowing hard, you tried to ignore the way it felt like someone was squeezing your heart. “I don’t need your help with anything. And maybe–maybe farther along we can set something up for you to occasionally hear the baby or feel their movements, but until they’re born…there’s not really anything more for you here right now.”

“Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please don’t say that. I’ll fix this! I promise I’ll fix it!”

You swiftly turned around, burying your face in your hands. Telling Matt all of this pained you far more than you imagined it would. It didn’t help that there was a small part of you that felt like you might’ve been making a mistake. That somewhere in the back of your mind there was a small voice wanting you to turn back around and give him another chance. To let him try to prove himself. To see if he could fix things.

But you ignored that voice, shoving it far away. He’d walked out on you. What you were doing now was not the same.

“Please leave, Matt,” you whispered. 

You didn’t wait for a response before you stepped into your bedroom, closing the door behind you and hurrying over to your bed. Climbing into it, you threw the blankets over yourself, burying your face in the pillow and trying to muffle the sound of your crying. In the hallway you heard Matt slowly rise to his feet, his sobs still audible to you in the bedroom. But he didn’t follow after you. Instead, you heard him make his way out to your living room, sliding a window open as he stepped out onto your fire escape. Then you heard the soft thump of your window closing after him.

That’s when you let yourself openly weep, crying into your pillow until you eventually cried yourself to sleep.

Furious at himself, Matt slammed the door to his roof access behind himself with a sharp bang that echoed loudly throughout his apartment. Tearing his helmet from off of his head, he stormed over to the stairs before he stomped his way down them, his boots landing with a heavy thud along each step. At the bottom, overcome with sheer rage, he threw his helmet forcefully from his hands with a roar. He heard the way it flew across the room and skidded along the floor before slamming loudly into the radiator. 

Matt began to tear his gloves from his hands after, his chest heaving with fury and shame and despair. He threw each glove roughly onto the floor next beside his boots, pissed at himself. Pissed at Daredevil. Pissed at everything.

You were pregnant. That’s what you’d been wanting to tell him that night. And like the fucking piece of shit he was–self-sabotaging as Foggy always told him–he’d yelled at you. Pushed you away. Abandoned you. And all you’d wanted was him. For him to be there for you.

And he hadn’t even given you something so goddamn simple as that.

“Fuck!” he cursed loudly.

In his agitation, he began to pace the length of his apartment like a feral cat. His hands were in his hair, roughly tugging at the strands as more tears slipped down his cheeks. He had fucked things up far more than he’d realized. But knowing that you were carrying his child? How was he supposed to let that go?

He loved you. Truthfully he loved you more than the city he swore to protect, even if he’d been an absolute asshole when it came to showing that to you lately. Because you were right. His actions hadn’t shown that you were his priority. 

With an enraged growl Matt’s hands darted out, grabbing onto his kitchen table and violently flipping it over. Everything on it clattered noisily to the floor, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was fuming and too far gone in his thoughts. He could feel the Devil’s wrath inside of himself, begging him to be released. He could hear the Devil’s voice telling him that he did this to himself. That he got what he deserved. That he’d never be good enough for you or anyone. That he’d be a terrible father.

Gritting his teeth roughly together, his breathing came in sharp and hard. His hands landed on his hips as his eyes clamped shut, the muscles jumping in his cheeks as he tried to quiet that voice in his head.

Because no. That was wrong. 

Exhaling a rough breath, he tried to regain his composure. You deserved better, that was true. He hadn’t been treating you the way he should’ve been before things had ended. That was on him. But you and his unborn child deserved better. And he was going to give you both that.

So that’s what he would do. He’d find a way to fix things. To prove how wrong you were about him not wanting to be a father and about him not loving you more than Hell’s Kitchen. To find a way to get you to trust him again, feel capable of depending on him. And while he knew he couldn’t give up the Devil, he knew he could learn to compromise. To truly be there for you. And he’d do whatever it took for however long it took for you to trust him again. Because you and that baby were his family. 

You and that baby were his.

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @thychuvaluswife @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @lilthbunny @that-girl-named-alex @warsaur @lareinaisabelle @pazii

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #daredevil

[dustofthedailylife]

That Which Is Forbidden

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Forbidden knowledge forever alters the memory and personality of a person and drives them insane. Everyone in Sumeru knew as much. Yet you conducted research on it anyway.

Tags: Angst, no comfort, hints at lore theories (see end note), depiction of psychosis due to the contact with forbidden knowledge

A/N: Help... this was just supposed to be a short drabble once again... but here we are sjdksdjl. Anyway, I just had this brainrot and it ate me up then had a writing frenzy and this is the result. Enjoy reading, haha!

You had been absent from the Akademiya for the last couple of days. At first, Alhaitham thought it was just you being neck-deep in some research again, as that wasn't an unusual occurrence. But after more than a week had passed without a single word from you, he was beginning to worry.

Sure, you were ambitious, but you were also a really affectionate person who usually took time out of their day to stop by to bring him some pastries from Puspa Café or just to visit him every now and then. And he would lie if he said he wouldn't enjoy your presence.

He decided to stop by your home after work one day. He knocked on your door once. Twice. But no one answered.

Looking through your window revealed nothing but an empty and all-engulfing darkness inside as well. No lights were on and it looked downright abandoned.

He tried to turn the doorknob of your front door and, to his surprise, it wasn't locked. He peeked inside and was immediately overcome with a bad feeling that made his stomach churn and the hair on his neck stand on end.

Paper was scattered all across the floor, the tap in your kitchen was running and letters that had been thrown through the mail slot piled up behind your door as well. Just, what happened here?

He crossed the living room, went to turn off the tap, and looked for any trace of you. That was when he heard a barely audible whimper come from the direction of your bedroom.

He immediately darted to the door and flung it open. But what he found made his heart shatter into a million pieces.

"No, no, no." he repeated like a quiet mantra of denial.

The walls were covered in cryptic words you had written on there with chalk. You were cowering in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth with red, glowing eyes as you held your head between your hands. Tears continued to stream down your face that was contorted into a pained grimace while whispering one sentence over and over: "The world is a lie."

He took a glance at your disorganized desk and spotted a document titled The Origins Of The World We Know.

He had seen this many times before. It was one of the most common fields of forbidden research people tried to conduct. Each and every one of them thought it wouldn't drive them to madness and they all ultimately failed. Driven to insanity by their ambitions and hubris. Gaining knowledge on things they shouldn't.

He walked over to you, pleadingly called out your name, and tried to grab your hand in an attempt to get through to you. In order to convince himself there was still something of you left in the husk of the person he perceived in this dark room.

"Hey, look at me! I know you can hear me. It'll be alright. We can fix this. I can fix this... please..." he pleaded.

But he knew it was a lie. A futile attempt to convince himself he could get you back. To make the heart in his chest hurt less. To prevent the tears from falling that he was dangerously close to spilling.

"You idiot. Why did you do this?", he quietly sobbed.

He knew would never get you back. Never would he see your smile, hear your horrible jokes or experience your enthusiasm for your projects again. He had to call the Matra, he knew he needed to, but it was as if his feet were cemented to the ground. And all he managed to do was stare at you in disbelief with a vision blurred by tears.

You were gone. Gone to where he couldn't follow. And he had to come to terms with it.

It was at that moment he realized that this was what it felt like to grieve for someone who was still alive.

End note: The sentence "The world is lie" that Reader says here is a reference to the lore theory that Teyvat is nothing but a "simulation". An artificially created world by some entity. Some things that could undermine this theory are for example that it is always a full moon at night or Scaramouche claiming the "sky is nothing but a gigantic hoax" in an event very early on in the game. Basically some "Trumanshow" type of stuff.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #astronetwrk #alhaitham x reader #genshin angst #genshin drabbles #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin brainrot #genshin x female reader #genshin x gn reader #🍁 dust writes

[bangtanhoneys]

Grace & Jin: New Fishing Buddy

Note: Seokjin, Happy Birthday! I hope your birthday in the military is just as special as it would be if you were here. Let's make your 2025 birthday even more special. To readers, I hope you enjoy it.

Grace had it all planned, near enough. 

She had gone out and bought a little box, added some shredded green tissue paper and then filled it with what she needed. It was hard to do everything in secret when you belonged to BTS and Dispatch wanted to follow your every move, nevermind there needed to be a bodyguard with you or one of the boys wanted to follow.

This was something she had to do on her own, without anyone else knowing. 

There was a feeling of being completely unsure of whether this was a good thing. The news she had kept secret for the past week had made her stomach churn every moment of the day and she was slowly starting to run out of excuses, with so many eyes on her from the team, stylists and her boyfriend. 

Yoongi had commented that she had been looking paler than usual and for Yoongi to notice, that meant everyone else was noticing. 

How do you keep a baby secret?

You simply can’t. Not in the industry that demanded 110% from you now with all military service completed and dusted, the boys rested and now they were rearing to go. Let’s not even mention the massive comeback that Big Hit had planned now that BTS was finally back to eight members. 

A baby would throw a complete spanner in the works. 

But they had wanted this even if it was a complete and utter surprise.

There were so many conversations before the military and afterwards about children. They weren’t getting any younger, their careers weren’t slowing down and the demand for BTS was even stronger so when could Kim Seokjin & Chu Grace actually be a couple and have the family they always wanted?

It seemed life had said ‘screw it. You’re going to be pregnant now.’

Grace let out a long breath and pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling the nausea swell with nerves that had nothing to do with morning sickness. Jin would be due home at any point now after his schedules for the day had been finished with and she knew he had left HYBE because of the message he had sent her. 

The two had finally moved into an apartment of their own, a week after Grace had finished her tour. Jin had been on the hunt since his military discharge to find somewhere just for the two of them to own, that hadn’t been their own separate spaces, with enough bedrooms for future family members and for visitors. An apartment, split over two floors, with enough bathrooms and five bedrooms had appeared on the market at their old dorm location in Hannam on the Hill.  

The apartment was a complete mishmash of the two with Seokjin’s MapleStory characters displayed on a shelf in the hallway, with Grace’s love of British things displayed in the kitchen and living room. The bedrooms had been decorated neutrally but each with its own little theme though Jungkook had taken one room as his own. 

And now one of those spare rooms could be the nursery. 

Min-Ji, the cat the two had adopted, had taken to lounging in his brand-new cat tree where he lorded it up over everyone. But even he had sensed what was coming and what changes were due to come along, hiding himself away in one of the spare bedrooms.

Grace left the box on the dining room table and went to the kitchen to get started on dinner, cooking a traditional British dinner of fish and chips. 

She tried not to freeze when she heard the chime of the lock on the door, the door gently shut, shoes kicked off and then placed on the shoe rack and a coat being hung up. There was the usual sigh of ‘Finally, I’m home’ and the usual greeting of:

“Jagiya, I’m home!”

She hid her grin and carried on making dinner, “Just in the kitchen. Something arrived for you today, I’ve left it on the dining room table.”

“I didn’t order anything,” Seokjin mused as he changed direction by spinning on his left foot and making his way over. 

There was a plain white box on the table with a green ribbon wrapped around it with his name on a little tag. It wasn’t his birthday since it was the middle of summer, it wasn’t Grace’s birthday since that had been and gone and it wasn’t their anniversary either. He hadn’t ordered anything though he had seen a nice painting of Jeju Island online that he knew he had to get for their bedroom. 

“Hmm,” he hummed as he pulled open the ribbon and then lifted the lid of the box. 

There was a mini fishing rod, way too small for an adult but just small enough for a child. Underneath it, he pulled out a baby onesie which read ‘NEW FISHING BUDDY - ARRIVES APRIL’ and while he was still trying to process that, he spotted the sonogram picture below with Grace’s name on it, her date of birth and where it had been taken. 

Seokjin was smart.

He graduated from a very hard to get into university and he had earned his degree while being a member of BTS. Not only that, he had completed his military career with top marks and learned traditional Korean alcohol, as well as design levels and games for MapleStory, was the King of Run!BTS and other things. 

 Yet his brain had completely shut down over what he was seeing in the box. 

It could only mean one thing. 

“Grace,” Seokjin started as he carried the onesie and sonogram towards the kitchen. 

He never called her that, often referring to her as Chu or her other nickname of Gigi or now Jagiya. Never did he call her Grace and that’s when she turned, trying to hide the built up emotions of nerves, worry, excitement and the big need to shout the news. 

“Yes, Seokjin?”

“Does this mean what I think it means?”

“Depends. What do you think it means?”

“You’re pregnant.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement. There was no hesitation around it and it was just a matter of fact that every single thing he had seen up to know that made him question a couple of things had confirmed what he already knew.

His girlfriend of over six years was pregnant with his future child. 

“I’m pregnant,” she confirmed.

There was a pause and for a brief moment of time, Grace thought that this was going to go downhill suddenly. But all of a sudden, Seokjin let out the biggest yelp she had ever heard and the next thing she knew, her face was pressed against his chest while he screamed, “I’m going to be a father!”

Finally, after months of wanting and waiting and wondering, the dream of extending the Kim/Chu household was about to become a reality. 

His fingers smoothed away the tears of relief from her cheeks and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding her there until he moved away to hold up his fist. An old tradition of theirs when they both confirmed what they were both feeling. 

“Bangtan baby?” he asked, giving his famous wink. 

Grace laughed and nodded, holding up her own fist and giving his a bump. “Bangtan baby.”

#bts 8th member #bts additional member #bts eighth member #bts female member #bts fic #bts fanfiction #seokjin x oc #bangtanbaby #happy birthday seokjin

[whumblr]

A terrible price

Hello, I had a very awful thought and I'll let you all suffer with me :) Pls don't hate me.

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

TW: Character death :)

-

So, what if Zayne had won. What if he’d managed to 'convince' Jay to give up his research. Maybe after a particular nasty evening, with Jay covered in blood just sobbing and shouting "Fine! Okay! You win!” And he actually does as Zayne says. No more trying to nail Emery. Just letting things play out to let Zayne clear his debt and walk away.

Zayne is satisfied.

And over the next couple of weeks, his mood improves with every passing day.

Even Jay can’t resist to go along with Zayne’s bright mood. Everything feels lighter, even Zayne’s visits. Sure, Zayne still torments him, but not as much as when he wanted to break him, and Jay finds himself, just like Zayne, looking forward to when Zayne can finally say he is debt-free and breaks free from Emery.

He’s practically counting down the days, sure that after Zayne’s life improves, so will his.

But one day, Zayne suddenly stops visiting.

Jay is relieved at first. Pretty sure that, well, this was it. But something is gnawing at him. Surely Zayne would drop by to ‘celebrate’ his freedom and maybe tell Jay that he was packing up and leaving. Or drop hints that his last job was going to be soon. This is strange. And something’s not right. But his new-found freedom makes it somewhat impossible to focus on anything but the fact that he can finally try to take the first few steps to closure.

Then a couple days later when he arrives at work in the morning, Dennis is waiting for him in the lobby. Wearing a grave and somewhat unreadable expression on his face. Jay remembers he received a phone call the day before, shot Jay a sharp glance, but just grabbed his things to rush out of the building.

He now leads Jay into a meeting room, fiddling with a paper file in his hands.

“I’m not sure how you’re going to take this,” he starts, a meek gesture to them alone in the room.

Jay doesn’t respond, doesn’t know how to respond and Dennis continues after a deep breath:

“They found Zayne's body in the river.”

Jay just gives him a blank stare. Merely blinks. Everything, from his thoughts to his expression, just stops moving. Until the gravity of those words fully hits him and he realises what’s going on.

Zayne is…

His lips slowly part as his jaw drops. His thoughts go from zero to full speed in a matter of seconds. His mouth moves, stuttering out fragments of words, unable to fully form even a single word.

“You need prove,” Dennis’ voice breaks through his thoughts. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” His mouth feels dry and he eyes the file in Dennis’ hands.

“It’s not pretty.”

“I need to see it.”

Dennis hands him the file. A police report. Autopsy report.

And on the first page he is immediately greeted by a headshot of… something that resembles Zayne.

His face is all bloated. His eyes are closed, skin discoloured, hair flat on his head. Everything that made Zayne ‘Zayne’ is just… gone; his expression, his smile, his swiped back hair. Now it’s just… a body. With his eyes closed he could almost look peaceful and while the water erased most signs of violence, there’s still something eerie about certain spots on his face that don’t a complete picture, as if parts have been erased. Black and blue parts.

With every page he turns, he quickly swipes his hand over the pictures, not wanting to see. Just reading the cold, medical terms on what happened is hard enough. The words blur together and he only sees things like stabbed several times, lacerations, bruises, breaks, collarbone, ribs, wrists—

“I thought I’d be relieved…” he finally says, over the hand covering his mouth.

“Me too.”

He’s just too late covering a picture on the next page of Zayne’s torso, covered in stab wounds. The lines are clean, but something about them still makes his stomach churn. Something about the placement of the wounds that betrays a precision to avoid any fatal harm. He notices the old scar on his abdomen and for some reason that really hammers home that this puffed up body on a slab really is - was - Zayne.

“What was the fatal one?” He hears his own voice, brittle.

Dennis turns a few pages back and points at the picture. That’s when Jay notices the line over Zayne's throat. There’s a sharp intake of breath.

A little voice in the back of his head manages to make things even worse: did they use Zayne’s own knife?

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Every bit of relief is squashed by something heavy. His heart is racing. His hand is shaking and just doesn’t want to leave his mouth, as if he’s gonna throw up immediately once he removes it.

And he feels something wet against his fingertips.

“No I... why...?!” He takes his glasses off and furiously swipes his sleeve over his cheekbones. “Why am I upset about… about Zayne?!” he cries out, brushing tears away as soon as they appear, as if he can erase any evidence of the bitterness swirling inside.

“You don’t have to cry for the man who did those awful things to you…” Dennis says, voice soft. “It’s okay to cry for the man they dragged out of the water.”

Something doesn’t quite break but Jay feels something crack. Tears seep through it and he finally just slumps down on a chair, catching his head in his hands.

“This is too cruel. He… he didn’t deserve this. Not like this.”

Nor do I! This isn’t the happy ending he wanted! Everything, going back to his old life, his freedom, his recovery, is going to be overshadowed by this. How could he ever be relieved that he was going to be left alone now, happy that Zayne would never visit again, when he knows—

And Zayne… he was so happy these last few days. So sure that his freedom was near. And everything was ripped away. Cruelly punished for doing just as he was asked to do, for making it to the end, for merely existing. For meeting the wrong man.

“I was going to say… call in sick and go home but—”

“But home is no longer safe,” Jay finishes. It wouldn’t take long before Emery would tie up the last loose end. “When was he killed?”

“About five days ago.”

“You’d think Emery would be on my doorstep four days ago then…”

“I’m not going to take any risks. I’m going to finish up, talk to Luke to see if we can arrange some protection and you’re staying with me.”

Finally free. It cost a terrible price. And even now he still isn't free at all. A bigger threat still looms over them all. And it wouldn’t be satisfied with just its first victim.

Things might actually take a turn for the worse.

-

Suffer List Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful

#it's not canon it's a thought experiment :) #I do have Good Zayne Whump as a pick me up #but need to finish that first #hiwthi #home is where the hurt is #home is where the hurt no longer is #hiwthi drabbles #my writing #character death #aftermath of murder #posting on saturday because sunday is for the fun updates :) #the fun torture bits #also I was finished already and I need this out of my head

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Just a question- would you be willing to write for Andy from The Old Guard or nah.

And for the request I am begging anything platonic with Lady Lesso x Never!student!reader because I just love these sm.

Perhaps idk it's winter and the reader's dormmates 'accidentally' lock her outside on a balcony and Lady Lesso comes to save the day yay. Just mother mothering uno.

A/N: Hi! I do not write for Andy. I'm so sorry! But, I hope you enjoy this<333

A Cup of Tea and a Bit of Kindness

Lady Lesso x Platonic!Never!student!reader

Warnings: Bullying, Lesso being motherly

You hated being a Never.

When your parents found out, they were elated. Their darling child was following in their footsteps. They couldn’t be happier. 

But, here you are, in the dead of winter, locked outside in the courtyard of the School for Evil after your classmates decided to play a cruel prank on you.

At lunch, through the chaos of laughter and mockery of the Evers, you arrived at your seat to find a scented envelope on the seared tablecloth. You opened it and looked upon the loopy cursive writing of the Ever you had a massive crush on.

‘I know it’s not allowed, but I was thinking we could meet at the Nevers’ courtyard at ten. Come alone.’

Butterflies filled your chest. They wanted to talk. They actually wanted to talk. The day couldn’t have gone by slower, and you even got in trouble in a couple of classes for zoning out. 

When it was ten minutes to ten, you giggled away with your dormmates as they made sure you looked your best. 

“Okay,” you breathed. “Wish me luck!”

You hurried through the castle, praying to the gods above that no wolf guards would stumble upon you. When you got to the door that led to the courtyard, you rushed out with a smile, only for it to drop when you heard giggling behind you and the sound of a lock clicking. 

Tears started to fall and you could see puffs of your breath in the frigid air as you ran over to the door. 

“This isn’t funny!” you shouted. “Let me back in! Come on, guys!”

You watched as they ran away laughing and sank to the ground. Within an hour, you were shivering, teeth chattering and fingers numb. 

“You shouldn’t be out here.”

A voice cut through the harsh winter air and you looked up. Lady Lesso towered over you and you quickly got to your feet. “Um…Lady Lesso…I’m sorry–I’m–some classmates locked me out and–”

Lesso listened to your explanation (“I know this was partially my fault, but it’s still an awful thing to do!”)  before ushering you inside. “Enough of your rambling, let’s go.”

Your stomach churned as you thought about the possibility of what could await you in detention. Rumors had spread throughout both schools at what the doom room contained. Multiple students had been subjected to it and you had no desire to experience it. But, a wave of relief washed over you when you completely bypassed the doom room. 

“Where are we going?” you asked.

Lesso ignored the question, instead leading you through the castle and down a set of dark and eerie stairs. Every possible outcome raced through your head and none of them were good.

The both of you ended in a dark room until Lesso raised her hand and directed her pointer finger at a candle, lighting each one in the room. The kitchens of the school were lit in front of you along with a fire in the hearth. 

As you stood there, Lesso walked over to the hearth and pulled up a chair before going over to a sink and filling a kettle with water. She started a fire in the wood-burning stove and set it down, getting a cup and tea bag from a cabinet.

She glanced your way and sighed. “Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to take a seat?”

Wordlessly, you walked to the seat that was in front of the hearth and sat down. Your skin prickled at the feeling of the heat radiating from the fire in front of you. 

An Awkward silence filled the room and Lesso came over with the cup of tea she prepared for you, taking it as she manifested a blanket out of thin air and handed it to you.

“Um…I hope you don’t mind me asking,” you began, “but…why are you doing this? You don’t exactly seem like the kind of…well…caring sort of person.”

Lesso pursed her lips and pulled up her own chair. “I won’t lie. You remind me of myself–just a bit. The same thing happened to me. Not the exact same situation with a crush on an Ever, but still.”

“Oh,” you muttered, taking a sip of the tea. “Well, thank you.”

You never thought Lesso was one to be caring. Her sharp tongue had given the impression that she was cold-hearted and cared for no one but herself. But, at this moment, you saw her in a different light–as if maternal nature came natural to her, but she purposefully pushed it down.

“Who were they?” Lesso asked.

“What?”

She sighed. “The classmates. Who were they?”

You thought back to the previous hour and tried to remember their faces before listing off the ones you could remember. The group had been relentlessly bullying you ever since you arrived at the school. 

Perhaps detention with Lesso would turn their actions around.

#charlize theron #lady leonora lesso #leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #lady lesso #lady lesso x reader #platonic x reader #the school for good and evil

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Would you write oliver with the stomach flu or food poisoning?

Bro, this one made me so freaking giddy! It's soooo cute!!❤️

TW: emeto

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

The notes on Oliver’s desk seemed unreadable. The lights and his computer screen were too bright. Everything was going from hot to cold to hot to—

“Brown, how’s it going over here?”

Oliver startled as he realized that Dan, the paper’s editor, was standing right behind him.

Forcing himself to look more awake, Oliver smiled and said, “Oh, everything’s going great. I’m just trying to keep it interesting. Rugby isn’t all that entertaining to write about.” Nor to watch, he thought, remembering the excruciating hour-and-a-half he’d spent watching the game for the sports section of the paper.

“Alright, well, keep working,” Dan said. “Remember, we’re short staffed thanks to this damned flu.” He looked across the room to where another one of the writers—Harriet Fordson—was all but sleeping on her desk. Dan stalked over to her, loudly saying, “Fordson! Look alive, it’s not your fucking naptime!”

Oliver ran a hand down his face, downing his whole mug of coffee and focusing on his article.

It was a whole hour of writing, re-writing, and more re-writing before he emailed the finished piece to Dan, and then he left with his notes shoved lazily into his bag.

He was exhausted and felt like shit, to say the least. For one, he’d spent the last night staying up and studying for three different exams, finishing two assignments, and drinking cup after cup of coffee until about 4 in the morning, and he’d woken up at seven in order to get to his first class by 7:30.

He knew he must’ve looked as shitty as he felt. And since he’d woken up, there was a churning in his gut that wouldn’t go away, but he summed it up to just being hungry since he’d had twelve cups of coffee in the last 24 hours and no food. He was done working for the day. He could get something to eat, and then go home to crash on his bed for twenty hours with his cat.

Yeah, he’d do that. Now he just had to figure out what he wanted to—

“Olive!”

Oliver couldn’t help but smile as Isaac came up beside him. The blonde practically radiated Golden Retriever energy, so it was impossible not to smile.

“Hey,” Oliver said, his voice as tired as he was.

Isaac seemed to pick up on this instantly and his own smile faltered slightly. He raised a brow, looking over Oliver’s disheveled appearance. “Well, don’t you look all bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “I’m just tired, that’s all. And hungry.”

“I was gonna head out and get some subway,” Isaac said, still grinning. “Wanna come?”

Oliver agreed instantly.

The two boys wound up taking Isaac’s car over to the subway, but on the drive there Oliver felt the ache in his stomach and his headache get worse. And once the two boys had their subs, Oliver felt nauseous after just a couple of bites.

Isaac looked across the tiny subway table and saw Oliver’s grimace as he forced himself to swallow another bite. Setting down his own sandwich, Isaac frowned and asked, “You okay, Olive?”

Oliver nodded without looking at Isaac, taking another forced bite. Isaac’s frown deepened.

Oliver wound up forcing himself to eat the whole sandwich, knowing he had to have some food in his stomach instead of just coffee. By the time he and Isaac were back in the car though, he’d gone three shades paler.

“Want me to bring you back to campus so you can get your car?” Isaac asked, but Oliver shook his head.

“Just take me to my place, please.”

During the drive, Isaac talked. A lot.

He was talking about some friend of his in his psychology class, about his little sister who he was planning to go see that weekend, about his new neighbor who was driving him crazy with blaring loud music, and about—

“Isaac, stop.”

In an instant, Isaac stopped talking and glanced at Oliver. The black-haired guy was glaring out the window, looking almost green. “Olive—”

“I’m gonna throw up,” Oliver said, his voice shaking a little. Saliva was quickly filling his mouth and he could taste not just his sandwich but also his coffee.

“Shit,” Isaac cursed, looking for somewhere to stop. “Okay, crap. . . Um, open the glove compartment. There’s plastic bags in there.”

Oliver did just that, hastily opening the glove compartment and grabbing a bag. He opened it just in time to throw up his undigested lunch.

Just the smell made him gag again and continue to puke into the bag.

Isaac cursed softly. Then said, “I keep the bags in here since you get carsick.”

Oliver, still hovering over the bag with a string of drool on his lower lip, was suddenly aware though that this was not carsickness. He swore under his breath before muttering, “I think I got the goddamn flu, Isaac.”

The blonde’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Again, Oliver gagged and threw up into the bag. The plastic bag was getting heavier.

Oliver was so busy trying to keep his gut in check that he didn’t even realize that Isaac had made a few turns in the wrong directions. They stopped sooner than they should’ve since Oliver’s place was about ten minutes from the subway, not five.

When Oliver looked up and saw Isaac’s apartment, he groaned and dropped his head. “You kidnapped me again, asshole.”

Isaac chuckled and got out of the car, going around to Oliver’s side and opening the door. “Yeah yeah, you can never escape my evil clutches,” he said teasingly as he took the bag from Oliver’s hands. He took the bag over to a trashcan in the parking lot and tossed it in before going back over to Oliver.

Oliver was standing outside the car now, leaning heavily against it. Even more color had drained from his face, and Isaac felt a pang of worry. His own bout with the flu had been real life hell. Knowing Oliver, the smaller guy was gonna have it far worse.

“C’mon, lean on me,” Isaac said, grabbing his best friend’s arm.

Oliver leaned against him with a dizzy whine, trying to swallow down the nausea. Once inside Isaac’s apartment, Oliver beelined for the guest bathroom.

Isaac took a second to grab a rag from his kitchen and a water bottle before going after Oliver.

In less than a minute, Oliver had thrown up in the toilet and was now gagging harshly over the porcelain bowl.

Isaac wet the rag with cold water from the sink before crouching down beside Oliver, wiping down his sweaty nape. “Just get it up. It’ll be better when you’re empty.”

Oliver continued to gag and puke, spitting the taste of his overly-sweetened coffee out of his mouth. Isaac cupped his forehead, hissing at the raging heat. I should take his temperature, the blonde thought to himself.

Oliver barely had time to breathe before more puke jetted from his mouth. Finally, though, he stopped and was left sweaty and panting for air.

Isaac wiped the puke off his best friend’s chin before coaxing Oliver to sit back against the wall and wiping down the black-haired boy’s face with the cold rag.

Oliver’s headache was worse. His body was aching even more. And his stomach—oh God, his stomach—felt like someone had run it through a fucking garbage disposal or something.

There was so much pain, and Oliver even felt a little close to tears because of how bad it hurt. Is this how it felt for Isaac?! And for all the other poor souls that this flu had gotten to?!

“I’ll get you some fresh clothes. You sweat though these,” Isaac said softly wiping the cold rag down Oliver’s flushed cheek before standing and setting the rag on the counter. He opened the water bottle, handed it to Oliver, said “small sips”, and then left.

Oliver blinked heavily, everything seeming hazy in his slight delirium. He wanted to sleep. He just really wanted to sleep.

Isaac came back with some clothes in his hands. He helped Oliver take off his shirt and pants, leaving him in boxers before helping him put on a plain white t-shirt and some shorts.

Isaac had also brought a thermometer and held it up to Oliver, saying “Under the tongue.”

Oliver, dazed and sleepy, obeyed. Isaac watched the number climb before it beeped and stopped at 101.7 °F. Shit.

Isaac sighed and took the thermometer, setting it on the bathroom counter. Then he crouched in front of Oliver again.

“I feel like shit,” Oliver groaned. “Was yours this bad?”

Isaac knew his wasn’t. Oliver had the stomach of a five-year-old, and Isaac had known that this stomach flu was going to hit his best friend hard eventually.

Instead of answering, Isaac grabbed Oliver’s arms and said, “You need to be in bed.”

Oliver allowed himself to be pulled up, but as soon as he was on his feet it felt as if all of his blood went rushing down and his head felt detached from his body. He swayed, feeling the world tilting to the side before Isaac’s arms wrapped around him.

“Holy shit,” he heard the blonde curse, and then Isaac lowered himself and Oliver to the floor since, clearly, Oliver couldn’t even stand.

Oliver felt so dizzy. So sleepy.

Suddenly, one of Isaac’s arms was under his knees while Isaac’s other arm went around his shoulders, and the blonde scooped him up bridal style.

It was no struggle; Oliver weighed practically nothing and Isaac may not have still been a jock like he was in high school, but he was still strong.

Oliver closed his eyes, pressing his temple to Isaac’s shoulder to try and ease the throbbing pain in his head.

In a matter of seconds, Oliver was laid down on a bed and he felt sheets pulled over him.

He didn’t open his eyes, but he could hear moving around and suddenly there was something wet and cold on his forehead. More moving around, the lights in the room darkened behind his lids, something was set down next to the bed, and then Oliver felt Isaac climb into the bed next to him.

He opened his eyes then and looked to his side. Isaac was laying down next to him, and Oliver frowned. “I might throw up on you,” he mumbled, making Isaac smile and laugh.

“Y’know what? I’ll take the risk.” The blonde got comfortable on his side, scooting closer to Oliver, and then his hand flattened on Oliver’s stomach.

The irony was not lost on either of them, and the second they locked eyes they both smiled and laughed.

When Isaac’s hand started to rub gently, Oliver felt his cheeks grow warm and he hoped that Isaac didn’t notice.

Isaac’s head wound up on Oliver’s shoulder, and Oliver couldn’t help but think about how warm and comfortable he was. Finally, he could sleep. And as he allowed himself to drift off, three words kept playing over and over in his head:

I love you.

#isaac #oliver #fluff #cuddles #dudes - this ending has me squealing #thebrilliantidiots #these two i swear #I'mma go die from cuteness overload now. Bye bye!😊

[gayerthanevertbh]

my beloved natasha

you meet a gorgeous green-eyed woman in the same alley where you no longer see a man who was your “friend”, only to know about the dark secrets from the woman herself. 

warnings : 18+ MINORS DNI dark!natasha, oral sex, fingerfucking, dirty talk, mommy kink, mentions of violence, stalker-ish, just unhinged natasha.

notes : ENJOY I GUESS?? but seriously i am deprived from writing, but i’m having inspirations now which is good

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You always walk on the same road every night from work. The city lights gleam on your face as the acrid smell of gas pollution curls up in your throat madly, yet there is some comfort in it. You love the city, you love the people around you, mostly because they bring you comfort and safety – that’s why you live in a crowded area, to feel safe.

Well, whatever that means now, especially when you no longer see the familiar face in the alley whenever you walk back home.

Technically, you made acquaintance with this man. He had a very kind face, beautiful silk brunette hair, and long veiny hands. They were always placed on your biceps and tell you how much you mean to him, and you’d reply the same way because it’s true, that man has done nothing but be the nicest person to ever exist. Except that, he’s gone. Out of nowhere, out of sight. Now, this leaves you curious. What happened to him? Did he just disappear? Perhaps he has, and never told me about it. He’s been “gone” for almost two weeks and you couldn’t stop this feeling in the pit of your stomach; is he hurt? What happened to him?

Everything was such a mystery, you felt distraught.

Then something abruptly came out. (dum dum DUUUUM!) A woman appears, a mysterious tall looking woman walks towards you, and makes your stomach feel all types of things. Like churning or the idea of going to the bathroom, that kind of feeling. You swallowed thickly and made a surprising smile, but she made the first move.

“Hi,” she greeted. “I was wondering where the pub is. You see, I’m quite new in this city, and I’m not sure where I’m going.” oh, she seems nice. Doesn’t feel alarming at all. You decide to reply and tell her the direction, and she pats you on the shoulder like the man always does. “Thank you for that, lady. What’s your WhatsApp number? Maybe we could talk or something since you’re the only person who seems nice to me.”

WhatsApp? Why does she want my number? You think crudel about it y, as you intend not to. Yet, when you look at her in the eyes, it seems like this woman was the next man that you always see in the alley. Except maybe her eyes are greener than his, more physique, and not-so-tall – which you didn’t mind, you never really cared about the height difference.

“It’s 999-9999-99088.”

She chuckles, pushing the back of her hair that looked red, you could see a bit of blonde on the edge of her silk hair. “I didn’t understand that, could you repeat that for me, hon?”

Hon… doesn’t feel alarming at all. Hmm, not really.

“Let me type it down for you,” are you seriously giving your number to a stranger? What happened to “Stranger Danger”? “What area are you from?”

“Manhattan,” she responded in a thick accent, yet you could hear from her voice that it was sort of Americanized. “Would you like to go to the pub with me? I don’t know, grab a couple of drinks or something?”

I guess I could just forget about him, you thought solemnly. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, she seems nice. Too nice.

“I mean,” you hesitated for a moment, but those wandering eyes won’t let you stop staring or even think about leaving her. God, she looked so kind and very approachable. How could you not? You shrugged, smiling with your teeth pearling in front of her. “If you treat me then, why not?”

“I most definitely will, sweetheart.”

A few drinks – as if a few – later, “Natasha” is walking down the alley with you, sharing her life in Russia that seems to grow your interest. So, she’s gorgeous and Russian? This made my day even better, you thought to yourself. As both of you were nearing your area, you halt her to stop with your hand on her coat.

“Are you coming along with me?” you asked.

“I want to bring you home,” she responded, licking her lips. “Can’t I bring a friend home?”

“Well you can,” you shrugged. “It’s just–my house is a mess, I wouldn’t offer you to come inside.”

“I don’t mind the mess, I just want to be around you right now.” yeah, but I could be your mess.

Definitely not alarming, you thought. And if you admit it right now, you do enjoy her sly comments and her green hooded eyes. It’s quite bold, actually. And you like bold. Your parents are certainly wrong for thinking of you as a conservative child. You walk her to your apartment and unlock your door, pulling her collar inside the house as you kiss her hard on the lips, which both of you melted from. She holds your neck and moans into your mouth, her other hand on your lower waist. This feels so… incredible. Igniting, even. Fuck.

“My god you taste good,” she whispers, licking the corner of your mouth. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

You pulled away, cracking up a laugh as you scrunched your eyebrows together. “Huh?”

She only smiles – this time you don’t know whether this is innocent – and pushes you against the wall, her wet plump lips on your chin, as she tucks the strand of your hair behind your ear. She smirks at you, and growls into your ear, saying: “I’ve longed for this moment. Ever since the day I’ve met you.”

“Wha–”

“Shh,” she interrupts you with a wet kiss, making you pull away when she bites on your lower lip. “Oh, come on baby. Don’t do that now, I have photographs of you with that man and I just… couldn’t help but slice his throat.”

Now, what?!

“Wait,” you have your hands on her lower stomach, trying to push her away, but god she was strong. Probably stronger than you. “H-Hold on, what are you talking about?”

“I killed that man for you, little girl. He was taking you away from me,” she coos, shaking her head with a tsk sound from her mouth. You shut your eyes when you felt the hilt of her knee pressing against your covered core, trying not to get aroused at the moment. “I love you, I love you so much! I did everything for you, can’t you just give in to me now? After everything?”

“You killed an innocent man!”

“He was trying to bring you home!” she shouts, holding your biceps down as you feel smaller and smaller from the way she yells at you, especially with that deep tone of hers. This felt like a dream, a very bad dream where you don’t wake up and instead die from your sleep. You hate it, you loathe thinking of it. You turn your face away when she tries to kiss you, which makes her angrier. “Don’t pull away from me baby, please don’t be like this… let me touch you. Let me kiss you.”

“Get off of me!” you pleaded, pushing her with all your might, but you were pinned on the cold brick wall as you whimpered from the pain. She was gripping you tightly, kissing down your neck to soothe you down, but nothing was working. “P-Please, don’t hurt me…”

Natasha pulls away with a crude smile and cups your cheek, her thumb rubbing your skin up and down, which is a little comforting. She leans down to your face and whispers with that fucking smile of hers, “I could never hurt my precious girl, you’re mine. You’re all mine.”

“Please,” you begged with a whine, pushing her face away when she’s suddenly going down on you, kissing each part of your clothing. “...Leave! I need you to go, now–”

“Shut up you slut,” she demands with a hissing whisper, pinching your naked inner thigh while her mouth is on your pelvis, smelling your cunt that is still covered by your panties. “Can’t believe I have such a little whore like you, my good little girl. Gonna fuck you so good… maybe even bite you.”

The idea was rather arousing yet trembling, though you never bat another word. You nodded and let her continue to spread your legs. She removes your skirt along with your silk white panties down, revealing your shaved cunt – which she smiles like the wicked woman she is.

“My god,” she whispers, her smile never fading away. “This pussy is so fuckin’ beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. Gonna ruin it now…”

She plunges two fingers inside of your wet slit, immediately creating this irritating feeling in your walls, as you cried for help. But she lifts herself up again and covers your mouth with her bare hand, shushing you with a worried look. “Baby, it’s okay… you’re gonna be okay. Mommy wants to play with you for a bit, it’s going to be alright.”

You believed her, maybe you tried at least. You wanted to push and block this feeling away, this immense pleasure that circulates your entire blood, but you couldn’t. You wanted more, you needed more. She knew that, her smile gave it away. “That’s it,” she coos kissing your cheek with tenderness. “That’s my good little kotenok, my good girl. Take all of my fingers.”

She slams her fingers inside of you with a grunt, her head burying into your neck as she lets out a quiet moan – her fingers curling inside of you to hit that spot of yours. You writhe in her body, you cry for mercy, and you cry for pleasure. It hits you slowly, you were attracted to this feeling, mostly her, and you are ashamed of it. But the way the heel of her palm hits your clit gives you a sign of climax; you wanted to come for her.

“You’re gonna cum for me?” she asks with a higher pitch in her voice, licking the skin of your neck as if she’s going to mark you. Mark me, mark me, taste me! “Oh princess, you make Mommy absolutely crazy. Come on, cum on my fingers. That’s it… Argh, you’re so beautiful, gonna keep you…”

You imagine her keeping you in a den. Or maybe in a dim-light room where no one else is surrounded but her and her gorgeous smile, an evil smile that takes you away completely. You rock against her hand, finding that sparking orgasm as you cling to her, biting your lower lip to hold your screams. But she taunts, “Let me hear your scream baby, let Mommy hear you.”

“Mommy!” you shake your head while humping her hand. “I’m–please Mommy, fuck me harder… I’m so close!”

“My precious obedient girl,” she growled into your ear, pushing you further against the wall while speeding her thrusts, creating a wet squelching sound that gives pleasure to her ears and her core. “You’re going to be a good girl and cum for me. And once you cum, you’re going to come home with me and I’ll tie you all up and fuck you with my cock, yeah? You like that?”

You nodded. “Please, I want it all!”

“I bet you do sweet girl,” she grunts, pressing her forehead against yours while curling her fingers inside of you at a rapid pace. “Yeah fuckin’ hell, look at you coating my fingers with your juices, take it all… Take all of it.”

Both of you let out a throaty moan as you came hard on her fingers. She feels you clenching on them, and she couldn’t help herself but hump you back for friction. You realize what kind of a whore you are letting some stranger fuck you, and you would certainly like the idea the most if you are going to be her personal whore. You sobbed out loud as you felt your legs trembling from the overtaking orgasm you had let out.

“I’m gonna take you home,” she sighs, still thrusting inside of you but at a slower pace. “I’m gonna fuck you all night… you’re going to be my dirty slut.”

pleasesend me ideas for my kinktober for nat if you’re interested!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #dark natasha #black widow x reader #black widow x you #a's oneshots!

[creelteeth]

best friend perv steve who’s utterly obsessed with you and every time he’s over he steals your underwear and maybe one day you notice bc you have like 1 pair left and see him in your underwear drawer stealing a pair and you’re completely clueless and oblivious as to why he would do that so you confront him bc you still aren’t getting that he’s obsessed and in love with you so he’s left embarrassed and flustered to admit it to you😋

a.n. !! realized after posting this , i didn’t write it exactly how you wanted but i left it in a place where liked it so i might write a part two where he’s forced to spill the beans about being obsessed with reader. either way i hope u like it <3

ok this except it’s best friend perv!steve who is also your roommate!

part 2

you’re doing laundry one day and realize that you have all but four pairs of underwear left.

what on earth is happening?

you fumble about your apartment, searching your laundry baskets, the bottom of dresser drawers, even under your bed but they missing pairs are seemingly gone. you notice though that all your socks are still there?

what kind of dryer only eats underwear?

it’s all very strange. you ask steve about it but all he does is shrug you off.

“maybe you just miscounted?“ he encourages, the tone of his voice only frustrating you more.

you’re not crazy, something weird is going on.

those four pairs cycle themselves out before the week is up and at this point you're furious. something is not right, nothing else in your wardrobe is going missing. according to steve, he has everything intact as well.

in the midst of folding through the fresh laundry you notice one of steve's polos had wound up in your hamper. you decided to be nice and set it aside to put away for him once you finished. carrying the navy blue shirt to his room, you wondered where he might put his things. never having been in his closet before you start there, but there didn't seem to be much hung up. moving onto the big dresser in the corner you peeled through a couple different drawers trying to find one with similar items. though it seemed steve didn't have an order for things, he just stuffed it wherever it would fit.

landing on the final drawer, you refused to admit that you probably weren't searching for a proper place to store the shirt but instead just enjoying looking through his things. so far you'd found his weed stash, some unmarked vhs tapes, and a stack of old polaroid pictures. that final drawer brought you to a different discovery.. one that made your stomach churn.

there they were, your fucking underwear, stuffed away in the back of steve's dresser. one by one you pulled them out, counting each of them. you examined every pair, each one seemed to be crumbled up and stiff. one pair that was not stuffed in the corner like the others but shoved under this morning’s gym clothes appeared to be damp.

good lord, what happened to them?

the question plagued you to the point of pacing. you walked in circles around the living room, counting the corners of the coffee table over and over as the dryer went through its cycle. just as the buzzer went off steve came in from work. he noticed you pacing and his stomach sank. hesitant over what could possibly be wrong he waited for you to speak first, but you didn't. you looked at him, then stomped off to the laundry room. soon returning with the laundry basket in hand.

"what.." you paused, tipping the basket over to dump the contents out. every missing pair of panties landing on the table in front of you. "the ever loving fuck is this? why did I find these in your room, steve?"

he still stood by the door, eyes desperately searching your face to try to figure out how you were feeling. all that guilt he'd been ignoring for months finally hitting him all at once. he knew he couldn't tell the truth. truth being that he was utterly fucking obsessed with you, in every aspect. that he'd been snatching them out of the dirty laundry for quite some time. that he started off just smelling them and putting them back but he became addicted to taking those parts of you with him. he became obsessed with the smell. the taste. the feeling of the lace that was once covering your pretty little cunt now wrapped around his cock catching his cum.

the silence in the room so intense you swore you could hear his heart pounding. he truly was not good at hiding his emotions, his face always told the truth. his cheeks turning a rosy pink as you grabbed fistfuls of the fabric, waving them at him.

"hello? earth to steve? why did you have these? if you wanted to play a joke on me you didn't have to do it with my underwear. i've had to do laundry twice this week!" you grumbled, not noticing the way his face lit up when you used the word joke.

joke.

"uh.. a silly joke. right. that's all it was. just a joke. thought it would funny, y'know? sorry.. shoulda fessed up sooner." his voice was weary, hand coming up to anxiously rub at the back of his neck.

something about the way he reacted seemed off. usually he was so pleased with himself when he managed to pull off a prank. though you didn't even see the funny in this one. the expression that painted across his face had you confused. he couldn’t settle in on the fact that if he told you part of it, he’d have to tell you all of it. every pitiful doting fantasy he had. so instead he stayed silent for as long as he could.

if he were given the opportunity he would’ve let it go differently, but you seemed stuck on this version of events so he had to let it carry on in this direction. there was already so much going wrong. if steve were to tell you just how enthralled he was with you, you might’ve been lost for good.

you continued to pry. with the pairs of panties still bundled up in your fists you approached him. glaring up at him through furrowed brows.

waving the underwear around dramatically as you spoke. “but why? why was this the joke? and why were they all so sticky?"

steve felt horrible. flashing back to all the nasty things he'd done to the pairs of underwear in the weeks leading up to this. just last night he had his way with pair that you had crumpled up in your hand. memories of the pretty pink fabric wrapped around the tip of his cock, catching spurts of cum. what he hated the most was that even in your frustration, as he stood there red handed, he felt his cock twitching. knowing that you found his dirty little secret satisfied a shameful part of him.

he knew the underwear were now clean, but different variations of the same filthy thoughts filled his mind as you stood there mouthing off to him.

your pretty pussy is gonna be in those again. they'll get that delicious scent again. you'll sit all day in the same place that his cum once was. and will be again.

in the midst of your grumbling you happened to notice an odd shift in steve. while he was still quite flustered, there was something else. seemed he was only giving you half a brain, glossy brown eyes fixed on the panties you held in your hands. it took a second to click but once it did you shouted.

"pervert! oh my god? you're a fucking pervert! it wasn't a joke was it?" the words blurted their way out of you.

pervert.

he repeated the word in his mind. it stung a bit more than he’d have cared to admit. though the sting felt good in some odd way. he never wanted you to find out about it like this. didn’t wanna be seen as something nasty in your eyes. he just wanted to be close to you. wrapped up in you.

listening to you yell, he threw his hands up to defend himself. " it was a joke. I swear it was a joke. n-not just a joke but uh.. a dare! yeah.. munson dared me to. told you the guy's a freak."

steve nodded at his words, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than he was you. though one quick glance down his body and you knew what he was saying was utter bullshit.

"that's why.. that's why they were all sticky?" the tone in your voice had changed, hands dropping all but the one pair that he seemed fixed on.

you held the pink lace pair up in front of him. glancing down at his jeans to notice they seemed to be even tighter than before, a significant bulge having formed. you knew you should be mad. disgusted even. what kind of creep does what you assume he's been doing?

steve shifted, hands coming up to rest on his hips, eyes moving from your face to the lace that dangled off your finger. he watched the lightbulb go off in your head, though he couldn't quite understand what you were going to do from here. bracing himself for the impact of a hand across his cheek. holding his breath as he awaited the impending heartbreak that was your friendship.

"these were still wet when I found them." you hummed, watching him closely for reaction. "tell me the truth, steve. why were they so sticky?"

the answer felt obvious, and he knew he couldn't lie to you; however he also couldn't manage to get the confession out. the words getting tangled up in his vocal chords.

"well— I, uh, " his voice weary. I mean, how does someone tell their best friend that they've been using their underwear to get themself off while you sleep in the next room over.

something about the image of steve sneaking around with your unmentionables made your stomach flutter. you wanted to know everything, every last filthy detail. stepping toward him, you dangled the cloth in front of his face. fabric brushing lightly against his nose.

"are you a panty sniffer, steve?" it was clear you were mocking him.

the daunting tone of your voice coupled with the closeness of everything made his eyes flutter. a gruff sound settling in his chest. if his jeans weren't black you might've seen the dampness beginning to leak through. he was pathetic and it made you giggle.

"y-..eah." he groaned the word out, the poor boy flustered beyond reprieve. "I didn't mean to take so many, and, and I was always planning to put them back but-.."

you cut him off with a laugh, eyes scanning him up and down. shoving the pink pair in his hand before going to sit on the couch. feet propping themselves up on the coffee table, crossing your legs to hopefully make the sticky wet mess between them easier to ignore. you kept your eyes on steve, patting the couch beside you.

"come sit. want you to show me what you've been doing with them." your smiled feigned innocence, though it was clear you were anything but.

#casey answers #s.h. #perv!steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #perv!steve #casey writes

[smartycvnt]

Like We Used To

Pairing: Austin Theory x Reader

Austin Theory was the bane of your existence. There had once been a time when you hadn't thought that way. You and Austin had been friendly with each other, perhaps even friends. You remembered how you had once embraced the way your friendship had begun to turn into something more. Now, when you thought about your unfortunate attraction to that man, your stomach churned a little. Austin had been so nice, and then Vince got his hooks in and ruined any chance of there ever being something between the two of you. You wanted the guy you used to hang out with back, but you didn't any traces of him in the man standing across from you now.

You knew that it was partially your fault, the animosity between the two of you now. Austin had been acting like an ass, so you had called him out on it. Although, it wasn't as simple as that. You didn't remember everything that was said, but you had been moved from Raw to Smackdown immediately. Eventually, Hunter moved you back to Raw, but that didn't magically fix things between you and Austin. He still seemingly hated you, not that you could blame him. Both of you had said some pretty hurtful things, and despite the way that he acted, you knew Austin was kind of sensitive. He had always seemed sort of oblivious to you, but you saw the way his face would fall when people told him he was an idiot.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're who they're making me ride with today, seriously?" You didn't want to take the ride with Austin, but you didn't have a choice. Everyone else was either gone or their cars were full. Three more days and then you'd legally be old enough to rent your own car.

"Don't get too excited about it sweetheart," Austin said sarcastically. You rolled your eyes as you put your things in the backseat. Austin's bags were already filling up the trunk. You got into the passenger's seat and waited for him to get in the car. He was standing outside of the door checking something on his phone. It was probably one of the numerous girls he had mentioned during your fight that "could give him everything he wanted and more" unlike you. You turned away from where Austin would get in and kept your eyes on the mirrors.

Austin got into the car and glanced over at you to check on you. He knew that you didn't want to be there with him, and while it hurt, he didn't want you to be too uncomfortable. He wasn't quite sure how to bring it up, but he had texted a few people to arrange for one of your friends to pick you up in the morning for the rest of the drive back to Florida. That was a long drive, and Austin doubted that the two of you could make it without ripping each other's heads off. It made him sort of sad, but in his mind, he was to blame for the entire falling out. You couldn't stand him because he had let everything go to his head.

"I think we're gonna have to stop somewhere for the night. These roads are pretty bad," Austin told you. You had been thinking it for the past half hour or so, but hadn't wanted to say anything. Despite how uncomfortable the silence was, it was easier to you than trying to make conversation. "There's a hotel just up ahead if that's okay with you."

"Yeah, do whatever you need to," you told him. Austin pulled off of the freeway and towards one of the hotels on that exit. You saw that the first couple didn't have any vacancies, but luckily the last one he tried did. Austin ran in to book the room before it was too late, and then came back to bring the car to the parking lot. "What room am I in?"

"WE are in room 1504," Austin told you. He handed you one of the keys and grabbed your heavier suitcase out of the back. The two of you entered in through the side and went straight to the elevator. You weren't happy about the idea of sharing a room with Austin, but you wouldn't complain. It was late enough that you had the excuse of being tired to avoid talking with him. The elevator stopped on your floor and the two of you got out together. It would have been fine, but Johnny and Candace were standing in front of the doors when they opened.

"Really, Y/n, Austin?" Johnny asked you. He looked disappointed, which you didn't completely understand. Candace gave you a look like she was on the same page as her husband, but trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. "I expected more from you, I really did."

"Sorry to disappoint," you said, despite being utterly confused. Candace gave your shoulder a squeeze, but was glaring hard at Austin. He quickly got himself out of the situation to go unlock the door to your room for you. You slowly backed away to join him, unsure of what they thought was going on. Once you got into the room though, it was clear as day. Austin must have booked a couple's suite, hopefully unknowingly. There was one bed and a basket of items that would be useful for a honeymoon like condoms, lube, and a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs. "Oh my god, you idiot."

"I was going to tell you, but I thought you'd kill me. These were the only rooms available, I swear," Austin told you. You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared at him. Huffing, you pushed past him to get some clothes out of your suitcase so you could shower. "I'll just be in here. Which side of the bed do you want?"

"We are not sharing the bed. You can sleep on the floor!" you yelled at him through the bathroom door. Austin brushed it off and sat down on the edge of the bed. You tried to stall as long as you could in the shower, but eventually the water got cold. You dried yourself off, redressed yourself, and then walked back into the main part of the room. Austin was laying on the bed shirtless in a pair of sweatpants. "I thought I told you that we're not sharing the bed. If you won't sleep on the floor, then I will."

"Can you really not resist me enough to share a bed for one night?" Austin asked you. You turned your back to him and pulled the blanket off of the bed to set it on the floor. You were going to make a makeshift sleeping bag, but before you could completely move the blanket, Austin tugged it backwards. You went flying towards the bed, nearly landing in his lap. "Hi."

"Let go of the blanket Austin," you told him. He shook his head as he wrapped it around his hands to keep a better grip. "I'm not sleeping with you."

"You can do more than sleep in a bed," he joked. You let go of the blanket and reached up to punch his shoulder. He just laughed it off, so you went for it again. This time, he caught your hand and pulled you up to sit. "That's not very nice. If you're going to insist on hitting me, at least let me get ready first."

You hadn't been sure what to expect, but for Austin to get on his hands and knees in front of you was not it. He was just trying to fuck with you, and unfortunately it was working. You scoffed as you turned away from him, but the embarrassed flush on your cheeks was still definitely there. Austin moved into your eyeline again, this time as he laid across your lap. He grabbed your hands and placed one in his hair. He kept a hold of the other one, lacing your fingers with his like the two of you used to.

"Isn't this nice?" Austin asked you. You thought it was, but you knew that if you let yourself have this moment, then there was no telling where it's stop. "It's just like old times."

"No, it's not," you tried to argue. The fact that you were refusing to look at him was telling though, and unfortunately he knew you better than you gave him credit for. It didn't help that you hadn't stopped running your fingers through his hair for a second. You weren't even trying to get him off of you. Austin was a little surprised, but he didn't feel like looking a gift horse in the mouth on this one. "You're annoying."

"I know," he said. You glanced down to see him smiling up at you. As annoying as he was, you had never really been able to resist smiling back at him. For a moment, things felt like they used to, even if you knew it wouldn't last. "I real-,"

"Stop talking before I remember why I don't like you," you told him. Austin nodded as he quickly shut his mouth. He turned his attention back to the hand of yours that was in his, tracing his fingers along the back of your hand and up your forearm a little. You had no idea how long the two of you stayed like that, but when you woke up in the morning, Austin had you tucked under his arm as the two of you laid down. Slightly panicked, you snuck out of bed, grabbed your things, and texted people until someone agreed to let you ride with them to the next town.

#wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #austin theory #austin theory x reader #austin theory imagine #austin theory imagines

[musicalchaos07]

A Very Late WIP Wednesday

The first couple of days bleed together. Joyce stayed in bed, and Jonathan came by with small meals insisting she had to eat something. Their house was proverbial Fort Knox, no one went in or out. That was until Karen sent Nancy along with a casserole and for a briefest second at the dinner table Jonathan had a look in his eye that she's seen before but she couldn't remember when.

The next week the boys went back to school, she went back to work and found out that the town was once again well aware of her latest tragedy before she had the chance to tell them. They buried Bob's ashes on a Tuesday, that much she's sure of. Afterwards, in the church hall, she walked in on Nancy consoling Jonathan and it felt like she was watching herself stand there motionless. Begging herself to do something to comfort him. Before she could, Jonathan quickly dried his tears, stiffened his upper lip and straightened up. He even asked her if she was ok, and she felt so ashamed she cried.

The next day she cleaned the house in a rage while the boys were at school. When she realized all the drawings were long gone the anger truly took hold. It was all so fucking unfair. Owens got to survive and Bob died. Bob died. Bob was dead and she couldn't move to Maine now even if she wanted to. It was like a bomb went off and she was left to pick up the pieces of her life but she can't even manage to do that. 

At some point one of Will's drawings found its way to the refrigerator. "Bob Newby Superhero" it shouted at her every time she double checked the fridge for a Demogorgon in the middle of the night. 

Eventually, the days blurred into weeks so quickly that it was Thanksgiving before she knew it. Time is funny like that. Jonathan, of course, made all the sides and the only reason they ended up with a turkey is because Hopper had enough foresight to buy them one. 

Something about sitting down to holiday dinner with her boys finally snaps her out of her grief-fueled daze. And it's with a mix of horror and guilt that she realizes the only reason their house is still standing is because of Jonathan. But if he resents her at all it doesn’t show. 

Truthfully, she really doesn't remember much at all. It comes back in small flashes, Will seizing, Bob, Mike carrying Will out, Nancy stabbing him with a poker to get that thing out, but nothing ever sticks around long enough for her to make sense of any of it. 

The next morning, Will begged to go sledding with Mike, Lucas and Dustin like they do every Friday after Thanksgiving she cautiously caves. She made sure he packed his supercomm and sent Jonathan along with him for good measure. Which neither of them seemed too thrilled about but she's not about to let Will go off on his own. 

They're still gone when she gets home from work and she tries not to panic. It's only six or so, and sure the sun went down an hour ago but there could be a perfectly logical explanation as to why they're still out. She makes herself a leftover sandwich and picks at it while trying to find something to watch that isn’t the news. She doesn’t watch the news anymore. She’s about to give up and just go lay down when she hears Jonathan’s car pull up.Joyce doesn’t hear him turn off the car but a few minutes later  He unlocks the door and makes a beeline for his room. 

“Hello?” She calls out, confused by his odd behavior. 

“Oh uh hey” he responds walking back into the door frame of the living room.

Jonathan left the front door ajar and the wind blows in, she wraps a blanket around herself to try and warm back up. Her stomach suddenly churns. 

“Where’s Will?” she realizes

She envisions him crashing into a tree and bleeding out in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car 

“Oh I left him at Mike's” Jonathan explains.  

She stares at him wide-eyed. 

“I didn't think it was a big deal.” he mumbles, glancing down and up again.

“You couldn’t have asked first?” she cries a little too loudly

“I’m.. I’m sorry…. they were all just really excited and.. and I think Mike got some new video game but I’m picking him up in a couple hours” Jonathan reassures 

“A couple hours?” she presses, suddenly tense

“Yea” he shrugs.  

“What could possibly be so important that you need to be alone for that long?” she shrieks. 

Jonathan stares, then he starts getting well fidgety. He takes a couple of breaths trying to start talking and then stopping again. But the only noise is the drone of the tv, the car outside, and his fidgeting. She’s about to ask again, but she reminds herself to be patient while he finds his words. 

“I'm uh… Well I'm um…the thing is…” he stammers, nervously. 

The thing about Jonathan is that while he's just as earnest as Will, his thoughts are more like a puzzle or maybe a maze. Either way, it's… challenging for him to express himself as freely as Will does. And while Joyce really hates to think of him as the harder one to parent, right he's not making it any easier. She maintains eye contact and starts counting. If after fifteen seconds he doesn't say what he wants to she'll start asking leading questions. Gently coaxing him out of his shell. 

“I'm going out with Nancy” he spits out all at once when he’s almost lost her attention. 

“Nancy?” she asks

“Yea” he nods 

“Nancy Wheeler?” she questions slowly, making sure that they’re on the same page. 

“Yea, Nancy Wheeler” he says softly with a smile. 

It’s not that she doesn’t like Nancy, not in the slightest but well the two of them are an odd pair. When she found them together last year it made a little bit of sense, what with everything else going on. But she’s really not sure what the two of them are doing hanging out without a threat of monsters. At least she hopes there’s no threat of monsters. Jonathan’s still rocking on his heels in the doorframe waiting for her to say something.

“Well have fun” she resigns, because she has so many questions but no idea where to start. 

“Thanks… uh I gotta go, she's waiting for me.” he informs 

“Waiting for you?” she asks 

“Yea uh in my car” he answers 

“Your car?” she blinks at him

“Yea” 

“You left her in the car?”

“Yea” 

Leaving Nancy Wheeler in the car in the dead of winter, what is he thinking? It’s not like him to be inconsiderate. 

“Jonathan” she scolds “Let her know she can come in next time” 

“Right, right yea I will” he nods, making his way back out of the house as quickly as he came in. 

#I'm really liking this one so far #I can't wait for y'all to read it #stranger things #jancy #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #joyce byers #byers family #my fic #wip wednesday

[everything-magic-sparkles]

The State with the Black Stain

—————————————

A horror-mystery fic

~Warnings~

Mentions of violence, scopophobia, uncanny valley, true crime, sexual content

—————————————

Your alarm goes off at 6:30am. You really don’t want to go to work, though it’s all you have to look forward to for the day. That is, if you want to keep food on the table. Your job, a 9-5 at a VHS store in Milwaukee Wisconsin. You had been working there for a couple of years now. It didn’t pay much, but that doesn’t matter when you live alone.

It wasn’t that difficult of a job, either; Restock the shelves, work the register, know the genres of movies, and where to find them. Check in on time and clock out appropriately. There wasn’t much to hate about it, but you did hate how late you’d get out sometimes. You didn’t live too far away, but you didn’t live in the nicest part of your neighborhood, so being out late at night made you nervous.

A lot of times you wouldn’t be doing any work at all, so you’d read the newspaper. What else were you supposed to do? After a while of reading, you started to notice that the headlines all had the same focus: disappearances.

Was there any explanation for all of the disappearances? No. All that law enforcement knew was that 17 had gone missing so far without any indication of where they could’ve gone. You wondered how that could happen in such a small town. But, it can happen anywhere, right?

It was slightly disturbing to hear about all those disappearances and made your nightly trips back home even worse than they were before. Eventually, though, your mind wandered elsewhere and was able to forget about it.

That was, until a particular customer gave rise to the notion all over again. In the worst way possible.

“will that be all, sir? Just this film right here?”

“Yeah that’s it. I have a coupon for it Lemme get it.”

The man dug through his pockets as he looked for the coupon, “Oh, by the way, have you heard about the disappearances lately?”

Oh boy. Here we go.

“Y-yes I have. Why?”

“Well you remember that guy that died all those years ago? I can’t remember his name. All I know is that…” he leaned in closer to you, “People think he’s still alive. You know, the Milwaukee Monster.”

The name sounded familiar to you.

“Oh yeah- uh… W-wasn’t he a cannibal, too?”

“Mhm.” The man said, “He killed a bunch of black men around here… They took down the apartment building, but I don’t trust it. Mm-Mm. Not for a second. This state has a bad mark on it…”

You shut your eyes tightly remembering what happened 30 years ago. His face was still plastered in your memory. “Have a good day, sir…”

That memory was enough to set your paranoia into full swing. That man was one of the worst serial killers in American History. Sure, he was dead, but that didn’t mean that Milwaukee was over the tragedy.

Instead of trying to forget about everything, you decided to do some digging to jog your memory. You remembered having an old box full of old newspapers and magazines in your house. Eventually you found what you were looking for; an old newspaper with the headline: Cannibal-killer: Jeffrey Dahmer confessed to 17 murders.

The name made your stomach churn. Amidst your nausea, however, you made the shocking connection that the number of disappearances lately had directly matched up with the number of the monster’s victims;

17.

Just as you made the horrible realization that something wasn’t right, your radio began to play on its own.

‘Babe, I love you so.’

The radio sang as you stormed over to shut it off,

‘I want you to know, that I am gonna miss your love, the minute you walk out that door.’

“This isn’t fucking funny…”

‘So please don’t go-‘

You shut the radio off. The song name showed on the display, ‘Please don’t go, by: KC & The Sunshine Band.’

“Goddammit. How am I supposed to get any sleep now?” You thought, heading to bed. Surprisingly, you were able to fall asleep. Not without conflict from your mind, of course.

No one could’ve been playing tricks on you. You lived alone. And why would they? You were a young man that worked at a VHS store who wasted half their money on buying cigarettes. That’s about as generic as you can get. Hiding in plain sight.

Your last customer of the night walked up to the register.

“Just this, please.”

The man handed you a copy of the movie ‘The Exorcist III.’ You cocked a brow at the title as you scanned it, knowing how gruesome it was.

“That’ll be ten…”

Something caught your eye.

“T-ten ninety nine…”

Your eyes were glued to what appeared to be a man’s face, staring at you from behind one of the shelves. A white face.

“Is something wrong?” The customer asked.

“N-no I just… it’s nothing.”

When you were done scanning the movie’s barcode, you slipped it into a bag and handed it to the man, to which he left.

Something told you that you needed to get the hell out of that store. So, you did. You went straight home and didn’t look back.

‘What the hell even was that?’ You thought, ‘Maybe that bastard’s ghost is running around here still. I know what I saw wasn’t a fucking person.’

You lock your doors and windows out of paranoia and try to head to bed. That is, until your radio plays again. The same damn song as the night before.

Now you really know something is fucking with you. You get up to go shut the radio off,

“Alright, where are you, shithead? Get the fuck out of my house! You’re not welcome here!”

The radio plays again and you continue to shut it off every time it turns back on. At this point you were completely defeated and terrified, but you didn’t want to leave. Inside there was better than out on the street. You slid down the wall of your living room and covered your face, about to cry.

Between your fingers and your tear-blurred vision, you see him. The white face you saw earlier, standing in the doorway, his eyes peering down at you.

“Fuck!” You yell and cover your face, shutting your eyes quickly.

As you do so, you hear footsteps getting closer to you.

‘I’m so dead I’m so dead I’m so dead’ your thoughts ran amuck. After a while there wasn’t any response. So you uncovered your eyes.

Big mistake.

There he was, standing right in front of you. Jeffrey Dahmer. His ghost, rather. You wondered how he could look so real, despite being dead.

“Wh-what the fuck do you want?” You squeaked out.

The man grinned, a sharp-toothed smile stretching across his face, “You.”

To be continued…

#dahmer netflix #david dahmer dons lycra and tinted yellow lenses just like his serial killer brother jeffrey as he takes a bike ride #jeff dahmer #horror #jeffrey dahmer #x reader

[dotster001]

Enemies to Lovers part Seven out of however many it takes for my coworker to Love Vil

Summary: You go to an awards show with Vil.

A/N: the next one will be out in a couple days, and I'm excited to see what people think 😊

Chapters: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 8. 9. 10. Epilogue.

You had dressed up in the red outfit, promised Grim you would grab him snacks if there were any at the rewards event, and gone off to Vil's room for final makeup and hair touches.

He already looked fabulous in his suit, and his shimmering red makeup look went well with your outfit.

He did your makeup and hair, and pulled out his magic pen. 

"I'm putting a glamour on you. The people who know you will recognize you, but everyone else won't. That way you can avoid paparazzi, even after being my plus one for a night," he said, as glitter rained down on her from his pen. You looked in the mirror. You couldn't see a difference, but then again, you  recognized yourself, so it probably wouldn't work on you.

"There," he placed his hands on your shoulders, and looked at you through the mirror. "You look beautiful. The people are going to love you."

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead he patted your shoulders one more time, then held out his hand to help you up.

"Shall we?" He asked.

      ….

The first part of the event was constant photos and posing as you worked your way down the red carpet and into the venue. Luckily for you, Vil was able to answer any questions the paparazzi had, including a backstory for who you were and why you were there.

Eventually, you made it into the venue, where it was quieter except for various actors and nominees mingling. 

Suddenly, a woman with silver hair, and a purple gown, was hugging Vil tightly.

"Claudia," he choked.

"Vil baby," she said as she pulled back, still holding onto his arms, giving him a flirty pout that made your stomach churn.

"You promised you'd consider that role I got for you." She said, drawing shapes on his arm with her pointer finger.

"I told you, Claudia, I'm not acting again until I get my degree," Vil made eye contact with you over Claudia's shoulder, but you had no idea how to save him.

"I know, but it's not fair that you always get to act with Neige, and you never act with me, it's starting to feel personal," she whined.

"Speak of the devil," Vil muttered, as Neige himself spotted them across the room.

"Vii! Claudia! Hi!" He said happily, hugging them both. "Claudia, congratulations on your nomination!"

You had finally come up with an excuse to save a now tense looking Vil.

"Uh, Vil, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to sit down, my feet are killing me."

"Of course!" He said rather loudly. "If you would both excuse me, I need to see to my plus one's needs." He said, pretending to press a kiss to the back of your hand. Even though it was fake, you still felt your face warm from it.

As you walked away, Vil whispered into your ear, "Thank you apple blossom, I owe you one."

"I'll hold you to it," you whispered back with a smug smile.

….

The rest of the event had gone off without a hitch. And now you were back at Vil's house, finishing your packing. 

Vil had told you that you could keep the outfit, and anything else he had given you and Grim over the summer, so you were leaving with more than what you arrived with.

The night before you were to take a mirror back to NRC, you were walking around the house, making sure you had everything, when you saw Vil sitting on one of the balconies. 

You stepped outside, and asked, "Mind if I join you?" 

He nodded at you, and you took a seat in the chair next to him. After a couple moments of painful silence, you couldn't take it anymore.

"Are you excited for your internship?" 

"Mhmm." He said, clearly not going to continue the thought. "Are you excited to be back at NRC?"

"Yeah." You said.

Another moment of painful silence. You were just about ready to spill your confused thoughts and feelings to him, when he turned to you, and said, "If you need more help with potions feel free to reach out to me. But I have total faith in your abilities. After all, I am an excellent tutor."

He gave you a playful grin, and you rolled your eyes in response.

"You're not that great a teacher. I would have figured it out eventually," you muttered.

"I'm sure you would have," he laughed. He stood up and stretched. Even his stretching was graceful. The moon lit his features as he turned to you with a melancholy expression.

"I'm leaving early in the morning, so in case I don't see you before you leave," he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, holding there for a second before pulling away, his lavender and vanilla scent remaining a second longer. "Thank you for taking care of me this summer. Make sure to take care of yourself this year, my apple blossom."

He left before you could gather your thoughts enough to respond.

….

That morning, Vil was in fact gone before you and Grim left. He had left you a snack bag by the mirror portal that had opened for you to go back to NRC. 

Grim happily took the snack bag and rushed through the mirror, as you took one last look at Vil's house, before stepping through the portal yourself, saying a silent  goodbye to summer, the house, and Vil.

....

Tag list- @stygianoir @shytastemakerthing @da-disappointment @iruiji

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil

[links-writing]

He sprinted towards the door, racing to get there before it shut, praying to whatever god or goddess may be listening. But he wasn't fast enough, slamming into the door, screaming and banging on it, trying to break through. His friends, his family, he couldn't let her hurt them. The blue-scarfed hero sank to his knee's, choking on his own breathe, unable to cry out.

Earlier That Day

Wars scoffed as he and Legend continued to bicker or whether or not they needed to stop by the river now or get to town first. "What's the point in stopping? We can wash laundry at the town!" Legend snarked at him. Wars couldn't help but roll his eyes, wanting to get clothes done so that when they got to the inn they would have a chance to relax. "If we do it now, we'll have time to relax later." he responded, defending his point. "Boy." That word left Time's both and both stilled, looking over. "If we keep arguin' then we won't make it to town before night settles. Let's go." Legend smirked at Warriors, who scoffed in return. Twilight chuckled at the two, keeping an eye on Wild and Wind while they both talked about fish and different meals. "I forever stand by that my grams soup is the best!" Wind attempted to sound formal, making Wild laugh and Four smile. Warriors smiled as he surveyed the group. Time in the lead, Twilight not far behind, Wild, Wind, and Four almost directly behind Twilight. Legend and Hyrule walked slightly away, arguing whether or not Hyrule had a sense of direction. Sky lagged behind a bit, yawning a couple times but listening to Wild and Wind bicker over fish. A rustle in the tree's got his attention, and he stopped walking, staring at the tree's for a couple moments. Legend had noticed as well, and both watched the woods. Wild perked up, ears twitching, "There's something in the woods" Wild spoke, drawing his bow and listening. By this point everyone had their weapons out and were listening. Hyrule shifted, then darted backward as an arrow landed where his foot previously was. Bokoblins, lazoliths, and moblins rushed out, and the fight started. It wasn't long till they noticed that these monsters where infected. "Wild!" Twilight shouted as he ducked, and Wild shot past Twilight's head, arrow landing in the moblin's shoulder. Wind tripped and went down, Time covering him and helping the young sailor up. A female chuckle sounded, sending a wave of terror briefly across the scarfed hero. He continued to fight, cutting down several lazoliths and moblins before he saw her. No, no no no no no she's dead she isn't here she isn't real. He panted as he fought, fear a tight coil in his chest. Ending up back to back with Legend, both hero's fought heavily. But it wasn't enough today.

The sorceress waltzed forward, smiling at Warriors, extending her arm. No, she doesn't have to say a word to hurt him. All she wanted was him, and he left her. Killed her. Hurt her. Yes, she would take those he holds dear, and watch his despair. Ah, she could taste it already. The spell was simple, sending the others flying into a purple circle, then gone. She smiled as the hero stared, pale and fearful. She smiled more as he tore his eyes to meet hers. Ah, those eyes she could get lost in. But first, she much teach him what he did wrong, and so she turned, using her magic to blaze forward, knowing full well the hero would chase her, and attempt to rescue his companions.

Warriors watched in horror as everyone, Sky, Twilight, Time, Wild, Wind, Legend, Hyrule, Four, got dragged into the portal. He felt cold fear seep into his stomach, slowly churning into anger. He stared harder, praying to whatever goddess was listening to show that this was all a nightmare. Unfortunately, no answer came. He slowly shifted his gaze to her. Cia. She smiled at him, and for a moment, all was still, as if the earth itself was holding its breath. Then she ran, and he took off after her. As she hurled towards a temple, he could feel the agony slowly taking place in his mind, fearing what would happen if he couldn't get there in time. No, no time for ifs or buts. We must focus, we must move. He sprinted towards the door, racing to get there before it shut, praying to whatever god or goddess may be listening. But he wasn't fast enough, slamming into the door, screaming and banging on it, trying to break through. His friends, his family, he couldn't let her hurt them. The blue-scarfed hero sank to his knees, choking on his own breath, unable to cry out. Last time he had help. Last time he wasn't alone. He panted, trying to catch air, to get anything, but when the first scream sounded in there, he collapsed, crying out for help and shaking violently.

@silvercaptain24 its not the best but i think its angsty???

#linked universe #twilight #warriors #wild #four #wind #hyrule #legend #i tried #idk how it is tho #tw: implied abuse #tw: panic attack