#this is like...barely edited but it felt SO GOOD to be able to write something

[pigeontheoneandonly]

exit criteria

ETA: Now with AO3 link! Link

For once, I was actually feeling writerly, so I did a little time loop fic tonight about the run to the beam at the end of ME3:

The mortar struck the tank, flipped it, and in one single motion smeared Kaidan and Garrus into paste.

Shock took Shepard first, and the bullet took her second.

* * *

This time, Shepard threw her arm out and kept Kaidan from running ahead.  So the bullet got him instead.

* * *

She had figured out far more complex problems than this, many times over.  Failing twice was annoying.  A blemish on her record, even if nobody else would ever know.  So Shepard took half a beat before charging down the London rubble once again, used it to draw her own heavy weapon, and simply blasted the tank out of the way.

Garrus spared a moment none of them had to toss her a confused glance.  Her answering smirk had just reached peak smugness when the airborne reaper unit, alerted by the explosion, sighted and fired, briefly illuminating each of their three outlines in its plasma beam before they atomized.

* * *

Her squad balked at running down the right side of the field when the center was clearly optimal.  But they’d followed her to hell, and there was no time to argue.

Kaidan didn’t say I told you so when the banshee lifted him by his hair to her fetid mouth.  He was too preoccupied with screaming, suddenly cut off.

* * *

Think, Shepard.  She stared across the battlefield.  Twenty seconds, then a minute, then five—an eternity in these conditions.  The profligate waste didn’t concern her.  Clearly, she’d have as many attempts as necessary to get this right.

(You hope, whispered a poisonous thought.  You assume.  You need.)

Beyond the beam that led to the Citadel, Harbinger crouched.

“I need to go further back,” she said aloud, abrupt, just before the reaper’s cherry red beam shot out through the dark with unerring precision.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Hackett told her, on the med evac shuttle more than a day after she left Garrus and Liara dead under the tank.  “The Crucible firing disabled most of the fleet, but stopped short of outright destroying it.  Cerberus put too much reaper technology into the Normandy’s redesign.  We found no survivors.”

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Shepard said, as Kaidan broke their goodbye kiss, eyes wide.  A hypodermic needle was small but still noticeable when it pricked the delicate skin of the neck.  “I need you to live.”

Her arms caught him as he folded up, gentle.  Forgive me. 

A bombed-out building had few good or secure hiding spots the size of an adult human male.  Someone found him and brought him back to the Normandy.  To the impromptu field hospital.  To the personal care of an inexperienced and self-trained civilian medic whose misdiagnosis led to organ failure.

After the fourth attempt, Shepard abandoned the approach in exasperation.

* * *

Her squad charged down the left side.  Killing a brute wasn’t unprecedented at this point in the war, but doing so with barely twenty feet of maneuvering room proved impossible.  She should know.  She tried ten times.

* * *

Shepard sat down at the top of hill, wrapping her arms around her knees and staring down the beam with real anger.

“Shouldn’t we charge?” Kaidan asked.

“You’d think so,” she grumbled.

* * *

The tank flipped.

The tank flipped.

The tank flipped.

The tank flipped—

* * *

Once, she went to the hill alone and screamed with every last ounce of frustration in her body.  “What do you want from me?!”

Harbinger did not deign to reply.  It did not even deign to slap her aside itself.  Instead, it left her to be overrun, eventually, by various husks.

* * *

It merited further consideration, however: What did Harbinger (or the universe, or fate, or or or) want from her? 

Her eyes narrowed over the London apocalypse.  The galaxy can burn.  There is no version of this mission where I let Kaidan die. 

* * *

I won’t, she said, as a marauder broke through his armor.

I won’t, she said, while Kaidan flew thirty feet into the air and hit the ground with terrible finality.

I won’t, she said, as the tank flipped over him.

* * *

Kaidan found her in starboard observation, Earth growing ever larger in the port.  Her hand pushed against the glass as if she could, by force, prevent it coming any closer.

She knew his footsteps.  She knew the way the air stirred around his shape, the faint rustle of his clothes and the even fainter whiff of soap.  Every line, tick, and habit.

Her shoulders hunched.

He asked her what was wrong, because he knew her, too, every mood and every flinch.

So Shepard did something she’d never done before, in any iteration: she told him.

It took a bit of time, and then they were both quiet for a long while.  Kaidan held her curled in his arms.  His breath in her hair.  Her fingers digging into his forearm. 

“I need you to do something for me,” he said, at last, sounding as tired as she felt.

Shepard knew Kaidan.  Her grip tightens another fraction.  “Don’t you dare say it.”

Quietly, inexorably, gently.  “You need to let me go.”

The only answer she could bear was to shake her head, her throat stopped up.

* * *

Shepard never made that mistake again.  But yet.

He kissed her in London, his hand lingering, cupped around her cheek.  You need to let me go.

His gloved hand scooped up hers, just for a few paces, a stolen moment on a quiet street between packs of roaming reaper forces on their way to the beam, an ounce of warmth amid terror and despair.  You need to let me go.

His breath woofed out, relief and new tension all at once, as they crested the hill and stared down at the frighteningly open terrain teeming with endless enemies, glowing with gunfire, the last stand, the last fight.  You need to let me go.

* * *

She sat beside the tank a long while.  Kaidan, his meat, was somewhere under it.  In point of fact, this was the longest she’d ever lasted, any time she’d paused during the run to the beam.  Nothing cared about her.  Not here in the shadow of a ruined vehicle, no gun drawn, no fight left in the lines of her body.  They all saw instinctively that she was no true threat.

There wasn’t a name for this sort of grief.  How could anyone grieve a person who was dead thirty or forty or a hundred times over?  He’d been dead the first time the mortar struck the tank and he was still dead now and there was absolutely nothing, nothing, to be done about it. 

After a time, other reapers landed, legions of them making mountains on the horizon with their long, raised thoraxes.  Systemically, they scoured London clean in a shower of particle beams and sonorous booms. 

Shepard fell asleep not long after dawn and died without knowing it.

* * *

Kaidan tore his gaze away from the beam when he felt the pressure of Shepard looking at him.  He cocked his head.  “What are you doing?”

She took him in.  Not long, not nearly long enough, but she took what she could get of him, always.  Almost too quiet to hear, she sighed out, “Letting go.”

His brow creased.  Then Garrus yelled, as the first of the enemy took notice of them, and they were flying down the field, Shepard chasing Kaidan chasing Garrus.

The mortar arced downward. 

The tank flipped up into the air.

Shepard ran.  The bullet whizzed past her shoulder, where she stood not a fraction of a second earlier. 

The airborne reaper, passing overhead, took note of the human, and fired a plasma beam.  The angle was not optimal.  Even perfect machines bow to physics.

The beam flashed by her at near light-speed, hot enough to scorch her cheek.

It met the tank in the midair. 

The tank glowed, and then exploded, knocking Kaidan and Garrus to the ground under a hot shrapnel rain. 

The stab in her chest never lost its edge, no matter how many dozens of times he died.  But her step didn’t falter.  Her arms pumped, her legs flying, moving so fast, in fact, that the tears leaking out of her eyes flowed back into her hair—

Until, as she flashed by the tank’s remains, something new:

Kaidan sat up. 

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #commander shepard #shenko #this is like...barely edited but it felt SO GOOD to be able to write something #i don't even care lol

[froggywritesstuff]

the least judgmental demon in hell | angel dust

ship/pairing: Angel Dust x male!reader (featuring Fat Nuggets)

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

request: Could you possibly do Angel dust x Male!reader? Possibly soft/comfort where Angel dust attempts to comfort the reader after a meltdown or something similar?

warnings: mentions of dead bodies and murder, mentions of harassment towards the reader, mentions of sex, swearing (it's Hazbin Hotel so...), crying, anxiety, feeling overwhelmed, meltdowns, pet names (reader gets called baby multiple times), ooc Angel?, kinda rushed the ending, not entirely proofread 

word count: 1232

A/N: fem readers DNI, Angel Dust is a nwlnw character. I wrote in Fat Nuggets while I was editing so apologies if the writing doesn't flow as much. friendly reminder to not compare trauma :)

Hell isn't the most mental health friendly place to be. Like anyone with common sense, you're not unaware of that, and though not on your own terms, you've gotten used to it. Though it's useless, that doesn't stop you from wishing it was different some days. Wishing that maybe on your walks to the hotel you wouldn't trip over a dead body, or get harassed by other sinners, or witness a violent murder or very graphic sex scene. You were grateful that some days were better than others. However, today was not one of those days. And after an entire week of shitty days, it was too much for you.

You were on the edge of tears when you entered the hotel, ready to have a good cry in your room while hopefully cuddling with your boyfriend, but fate had other plans. More accurately, Charlie had other plans. You never allowed yourself to feel angry with Charlie. After all she had done for you, and all the other hotel patrons, working tirelessly for what seemed like a hopeless cause. However you did allow yourself to feel upset with her bad timing.

Barely a second after you returned to the hotel, she dragged you over to the lounge, rambling about one of her new trust exercises she'd come up with. Normally, Charlie would've been able to sense something was up with you in seconds, but she was clearly driven by her inspiration, too excited to slow down.

Your hands fidgeted together, your legs bouncing up and down as Charlie explained her idea. You tried to pay attention, you truly did. But you could barely even comprehend a word she was saying. Everything was too loud and your head felt like it was gonna explode.

"Hey," you felt a hand on your shoulder and looked up to your side, meeting the black, white and pink eyes of Angel. You calmed slightly at the touch of his hand, and you were able to focus on his voice, "You ok?"

You nodded. You knew he could tell you weren't ok in the slightest. He was more than familiar with faking smiles and bottling up feelings. Luckily for you, he didn't pry, instead choosing to stay close and keep an eye on you, figuring you'd much rather prefer to vent or cry to him in private.

When Charlie finished explaining her idea, she met your eyes and gestured for you to stand. A wave of stress hit you, and you did your best to hide it as you stood up, moving to stand beside her in front of everyone. You tried to focus on what she was telling you, you really did, but the overwhelming tightening in your chest paired with multiple pairs of eyes on you made it impossible. Surprisingly, you felt a million times worse when she stopped talking. You don't think she had stopped talking since you walked in the room, so her silence meant she was expecting you to start talking. 

You looked around the room, your breaths getting shallower with every second. Charlie gently placed her hand on your shoulder, a concerned look on her face. She asked if you were ok, her voice quiet so only you could hear. You don't remember clearly, but you're pretty sure you shook your head before apologising and excusing yourself. Voices called out to you in concern as you sped up the stairs, making your way to your room as quickly as possible.

You closed the door behind you, leaning your back against it and sliding down to the floor. Tears streamed from your eyes while you held your head in your hands, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself.

A knock sounded at the door, and you quickly wiped your tears away and cleared your throat, "Wh-who is it?"

"It's me." you recognised Angel's voice, his tone quieter than usual, "Can I come in?"

You jumped to your feet and rushed to the door, opening it and pulling Angel in. He was quick to hold you close, wrapping his arms around you, running his hands up and down your back to calm you.

"Just breathe baby," he whispered soothingly, his voice like music to your ears, "You're gonna be ok, I've got you."

Your breathing calmed down after a while, not before Angel lifted you off your feet - rather easily considering his height. He shut the door and gently sat you down on your bed, his hold on you never wavering as he sat beside you.

"You feelin' a little better?"

Shrugging, you pulled out of the hug, nodding your head yes.

Two of Angel's hands cupped your face gently, his thumbs wiping your tears away, while another set of hands rested on your shoulders, rubbing them softly, "You wanna talk about it?"

That would be harder to do than just breathing. You thought you were being over dramatic, getting so upset over small things every sinner goes through. Especially when you were sitting in front of Angel Dust. It's not that you doubted his love for you, but there was a small part in the back of your mind making you think he'd belittle your feelings and tell you that you were getting worked up over nothing.

"I dunno," you shrugged, "It's silly."

"Hey," Angel lifted your head slightly, getting you to meet his eyes, "You don't have to tell me if you don't wanna, but clearly it's not that silly if it's got you cryin'." you stayed quiet, and Angel could tell you were overthinking this, "Baby, you know me. I'll listen to you. I won't judge you for nothin'."

You hesitated, and Angel stood up from the bed, kissing your cheek before he stood to his full height, "Wait here," he said, hurrying out of your room and into the hallways until you couldn't see him anymore. Thankfully, you weren't alone for too long, and he arrived soon after he left, entering your room with Fat Nuggets in his arms.

You lit up at the sight of him, smiling widely when Angel sat back on the bed and placed him in your lap.

"If you're nervous, you can tell him." he pet Fat Nuggets on the head, "He's the least judgmental demon in Hell."

A soft laugh left your lips at his words. Fat Nuggets sat himself down on your lap as you pet him. You looked up at Angel, heart warming at his reassuring smile. Still slightly hesitant, you proceeded to explain everything that led up to your meltdown. And while you mainly directed it at Fat Nuggets, Angel listened intently, giving you his full attention just like he said he would. When you were finished talking, Angel wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you - and Fat Nuggets into a hug.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah..."

"Good. And it's not dumb, baby. When you don't talk about these things, they just add up and get overwhelming. You know you can always talk to me about anything, right?"

You nodded, before resting your head in the crook of his neck, "Thank you, Angel."

“Eh, it was nothin’.” he chuckled softly, before he pulled away from the hug to look you in the eyes, “I love you so much.”

You smiled. Both his words and the caring smile on his face making your heart swell, “I love you too.”

#angel dust x male reader #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #fat nuggets #male reader #fanfiction #froggywritesstuff #anon #ask #x reader #x male reader #angel dust x you #gay #mlm #vivziepop #vivzieverse #hellaverse

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

You hate each other, right? (Tierna Davidson x Reader)

This wasn't requested or something I actually planned to write, but writers block is a bitch. Titles are hard, this isn't edited and I don't think this is very good, but here it is. Hope you enjoy :)

I'm going to try work on my actual wips so we'll see how that goes.

Warnings: None that I can think of, but let me know if I need to add anything.

Words: 4k

Tierna and I had always had a strained relationship. By that I meant we absolutely hated each other for years. Honestly, seeing as many many years had passed, we could barely remember what had caused the problem in the first place. Something to do with an injury or something.

Everything between us had changed one day when our argument ended in making out instead of shouting like normal. It seemed that over the years the hatred had turned to romantic feelings on both sides. After the kiss, there was lots of awkwardness and avoiding each other until I finally just asked her out one day when we were alone in the elevator. We had decided to keep everything on the downlow as first so we could learn how to have a relationship that didn't involve fighting or hatred. It wasn't actually that difficult because I quickly became addicted to everything Tierna. If her clinginess was anything to go off, then it was safe to say that Tierna felt the same.  

To keep everyone from getting suspicious, the last couple of months we had kept our outside relationship the same. There were glares, not talking to each other, and scoffs when the other spoke. The mean comments we used to make had pretty much stopped now. I couldn't bring myself to say anything bad about her, not when I was falling for her faster than I could keep up. If anyone ever asked, I just couldn't be bothered with it anymore. 

We had just gotten back from training. Tierna and I were glaring at each other as always while Emily stood between us as a kind of buffer. Tierna and I were sharing a room like we had been for the most part of the year. It was the teams way of trying to get us to get along. Little did they know how well that actually worked.

The glares lasted until the door closed behind us, finally away from the prying eyes of our team mates. Tierna turned, soft smile replacing the scowl as she fell into my arms. My hand slipped under her shirt, nails scratching along her back as she sighed, kissing my neck softly. 

"You okay love?"

"Just tired and I missed you today."

"I was with you the whole day."

"Well yeah, but I couldn't touch you let alone look at you nicely. I was craving cuddles all day."

"I'm sorry, we have the rest of the evening to cuddle."

"We have team bonding tonight though." Tierna pouted, moving to find comfy clothes. I groaned at the lack of contact, moving to wrap my arms around her waist. She gently shrugged me off, moving away from me. It was a clear sign she was upset about something. I lay on the bed, allowing her space to change and decide if she wanted to come to me or not.

Tierna sat on the other bed for a few minutes scrolling through her phone before she sighed, throwing it back on the bed and walking over to me. I opened my arms, letting her lay on top of me, head resting against my neck. "I don't want to pretend to hate you anymore. It's exhausting, I hate that I can't even smile at you when we're around them, I can't run to you during games or hold your hand or be close to you like I need when I'm tired, nervous or down."

"Okay. Well, we can start being friends in front of them."

Tierna looked up at me, "Yeah?"

"If that's what you want. I'm sorry that we haven't been able to do any of that stuff. It's not that I don't want to, trust me I hate it as much as you do if not more. All I ever want to do is be with you, my favourite thing in this world is your cuddles. I would prefer to keep our relationship to ourselves for a bit longer though."

I had always preferred to keep my relationships more private, but it was also in part because we constantly got roomed together in attempt to make us get along. I wasn't ready to have that change yet. Not just because I liked sleeping in the same bed with my girlfriend, but also because I hated change. It wouldn't be a big deal if my roommate changed pretty much every camp, that didn't happen so I had gotten used to Tierna and our routine. I dreaded that changing.

"Thank you. I'll just be happy with a smile or maybe a hug every now and then. There's no pressure to tell them about us, whenever you're ready I'm ready. I know you're scared about your routine changing and we'll protect that for as long as we can. And if or when it does, I've got you. Always."

I brushed a piece of hair out of her face, soft smile making it's way onto my face. We hadn't said the three big words yet, but I had known for a while that I was in love with her. Everything with her was warm, comforting, safe. "I love you T."

A grin made it's way onto her face before she kissed me deeply, "I love you Y/n."

---

It had been two weeks since we had agreed to be more friendly. We had decided to slowly start being more friendly so it wouldn't be suspicious. At first it was just stopping the glares and actually saying a few words that weren't mean or snarky. Now we had decided smiles and maybe some proper conversations were the next step.

We were at breakfast, Tierna sat at the table across the room while I sat with Emily and Rose. I hated that she was sat away from me, but unfortunately it had always been that way. Tierna sent a small smile my way. I sent a small smile back managing to stop the grin trying to escape. Emily and Rose followed my eyeline, confusion covering their faces when they noticed it was Tierna I was smiling at. I just shrugged going back to eating my breakfast. 

My peace only last a few minutes until Emily spoke up, "So have you and T have worked things out? There seems to be less glares, more smiles."

"I guess so. We actually talked a couple of weeks ago and could barely remember why we didn't like each other. We're trying to be friends."

"Finally. Maybe we'll all be able to be in the same room peacefully."

Over the rest of camp, the smiles and conversation became more frequent. The confusion or shock that covered the teams face for the first week was hilarious. Thankfully, after the initial shock, they seemed to back off their nosiness a bit. They seemed to realise we were more friendly without their prying eyes. It was nice though, being able to actually look at Tierna or be around her even if I couldn't touch her much.

---

Camps had always been one of my favourite things. I loved being around the girls, just getting to train and mess around. This time though, I almost wanted to just leave. Since Tierna and I were becoming 'friends', we had finally been roomed with different people. We had only been at camp for two days and my nerves were through the roof. They had been since I arrived. It wasn't what I was used to and I wasn't entirely sure how to cope with it. My whole routine had been disrupted without warning. The team knew I didn't like change, but I guess no one really thought this was something that would affect me too bad.

Training had finished an hour ago, dinner and team bonding weren't for a few hours and I was stuck on my bed fidgeting with my fingers. Alyssa sat down next to me, nudging my shoulder gently, "Are you okay Y/n?" 

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay."

"I call bullshit."

A sigh slipped out as my head rest against her shoulder. I didn't have the energy to pretend to be okay, "I love you Lys, really I do, but I hate this."

"Hate what?"

"Not rooming with Tierna. I know I used to not like it and we only just recently became friends, but that's what I was used to. For months, we had our routine, it didn't change much if at all. Just a bit of extra talking. Even then I knew what to expect. Now, it's all changed without warning and I don't think I'm coping very well with it."

"So, it's not just because you don't get to share with your girlfriend anymore?"

My head flew up, every muscle in my body tensing, "What?"

"Relax, I'm the only one that knows. I saw you guys making out in a hidden corner of the stadium when I took a wrong turn. You two are obviously pretending you're not great friends and hiding it for a reason. I haven't and won't tell anyone."

"Thank you Lys. I wish this was just because of that, but it's not. I don't deal with change very well at all. I like my routine and now it's completely different. If we hadn't been forced to room together for months, no routine would be formed and it wouldn't be this bad."

"I'm sorry that you were forced into a routine then forced out of it. We can see how you go for a couple of days and if it's not getting better then we can talk to coach and see if we can switch."

I smiled, accepting the hug she offered. It wasn't Tierna, but it was a close second. "I'm not mad at the forced rooming. I mean, T and I wouldn't be together without it. This is one of the reasons we haven't told anyone, to try hold onto my routine."

Much to my confusion, there was a light knock at the door. As far as I knew, everyone was hanging out in their rooms before dinner. My head buried in my hands, really not up for visitors as Alyssa went to open the door. Arms wrapped around me, my head resting against a stomach before the unmistakable smell of Tierna filled my senses. "Before you ask, Alyssa messaged saying you could use me so here I am."

"Thank you Lys."

"Always. I'm going to go for a walk, see you at dinner."

Tierna guided me to lie on the bed, cuddled up against her. It was probably the first time since camp started that I fully relaxed. "Love you T."

"I love you. I know this is difficult, but at least with Alyssa knowing we have more of a chance to see each other."

---

"Are you okay Y/n?" Christen asked as her and Alex sat on either side of me. I knew the team were getting concerned at how withdrawn I was and I appreciated they cared. However, getting asked multiple times a day if I was okay, was getting on my nerves.

"I'm fine." I snapped, retying my boots for the fourth time. 

I knew I was being grumpy, but I couldn't help it. This whole routine change had messed with everything, especially my sleep. I was tired and stressed, trying to adjust and create a new routine. It wasn't working very well, but I was trying not to show it much. I didn't want to seem childish or be judged for my lack of adaptability. Tierna was trying her best to help, there wasn't much she could do beside comfort me. Alyssa had also been understanding, not taking my discomfort personally. There wasn't much she could do either though.

Alex and Christen gave me a look before pulling me away from everyone else, "Talk to us."

I sighed, burying my face in my hands, everything that had been happening spilling out. They let me talk, not saying anything until they were sure I was done. Christen rest her hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly. "We get you're trying to tough it out, to adapt, but you could have told us before it got this bad. It's well known you don't do well with change and I guess we didn't think much of this since you had different room mates in the past. We'll talk to coach and see if you can change rooms assuming it's okay with Tierna and Rose."

"I'll be fine, I'll get over it."

"No, we need you to be at your best. So we'll talk to coach after practice."

"Thank you. Before you say it, I know I will need to get over it at some point. I won't always be able to have Tierna as a roommate. I'm working on it, my therapist is helping. I just think the lack of warning and no time to mentally prepare didn't help."

"We'll never tell you to get over it Y/n/n, but we are glad you're trying. We hate seeing you like this, we just want you to be okay."

Later that night when I finally made it back to my room after being dragged to hangout with Emily, I found Tierna lying on my bed, book in hand. I straddled her waist, kissing her forehead then nose and lips. "Well hello."

"Hi."

"Alyssa is rooming with Rose. I think you need an early night, you look exhausted."

"I think you're right. Sleep hasn't been easy the last few days."

---

Tierna: I'm thinking it's time for a date day. Sneak out with me? 

Y/n: Don't have to ask me twice. I'm going to head back to the room to change, meet me there?

Tierna: Perfect, can't wait x

After making the excuse of planning to spend the day relaxing in the room, I slipped out of the meal room to get changed and meet Tierna. It wasn't unusual for me to spend a day or two at camp alone to recharge so I knew it wouldn't cause any concern aside from a text or two. 

Soft lips landed against mine as soon as Tierna entered the room. "Hello to you too."

Tierna pecked my lips, "There was not enough of that this morning."

"Well if you had woken up when I tried then there would have been more kissing time."

"It's an off day, what's the point in waking up early?"

"Make out time."

"Whatever. I was thinking, we shower and make out more, then check out that book shop you were talking about. I didn't think about what else, but we can get lunch and there is a beach not far from here." 

My arms wrapped around her waist, kissing her forehead. There hadn't been a lot of time to ourselves so I was very excited to spend the day with her. "Sounds incredible. I'm sure we can find some lowkey stuff to do. Could you imagine the shit we would get if the team found out about this from social media?"

"Shit, I didn't even think about that. Sneaky date day it is!"

As per Tiernas plan she dragged me into the shower, spending more time with her lips attached to me than actual shower activities. Not that I was complaining in the slightest. Tierna and I spent a lot more time in the room than originally planned, it being almost lunch time when I finally dragged Tierna out of the hotel. 

We spent a while exploring the little book shop, taking our time looking at the different books and stealing kisses behind the book shelves. It was risky, we both knew it, but at the same time I was having too much fun with her to care. Though we weren't doing anything overly exciting, just getting to spend some alone time with the girl I loved was enough for it to be the most fun I had in a while. Spending time with the team was always fun, but it didn't compare to spending time with Tierna. 

After finally dragging ourselves away from the book shop, we got sushi deciding to eat in the park. Thankfully, there weren't that many people and we managed to find a relatively secluded area. 

At the start of the day, we had very much intended on actually doing things. However, we ended up spending quite a while lying on the grass at the park just talking. Since the start of our relationship, most of our time would be spent talking. At first it was getting to know each other properly, then it was just something we enjoyed. Tierna was one of the only people besides Emily that I could spend hours talking and not get bored. I never was much of a talker, but I actually looked forward to our talking time. Between games, training, meetings, and spending time with the team, we hadn't had a lot of time to just talk. Despite rooming together, by time we fell into bed, we were just ready to sleep. 

Eventually we dragged ourselves up, making our way slowly to the beach, stopping at a few shops along the way. We walked along the beach, finding a hidden away part near the end. Tierna settled between my legs, back against my front as I nuzzled my face into her neck, "You're beautiful T. I've never been more grateful for our meddling teammates. I love you."

"I love you. This is something I never saw happening, but I would never want anything else. And I would never admit to them how thankful I am for their part in this."

"Oh never in a million years will I admit that to them. Thank you for today T, it's probably one of the best days I've had in a while."

"Really? We pretty much talked all day which is not what I planned."

"My love, any day I spend with you is amazing. Maybe it wasn't what you planned, but I don't care T. I love just talking to you and with how little time we've had together lately today was amazing. I love you, I loved today so please stop feeling bad like I know you are."

Tierna turned to look at me, not saying anything for a second while her eyes roamed my face. Probably making sure I was telling the truth. She pecked my cheek before whispering, "How did I get so lucky with you?" 

"You didn't hit me when I kissed you that night."

"Didn't even cross my mind. I think by that point I was starting to realise that maybe I didn't hate you like I thought."

"Looking back you were blushing a lot around me then. No different to now I guess. You're just better at hiding it around the team."

My forehead was pushed back, Tierna pouting while I tried to stifle my laugh. She was adorable when she pouted. "Shut up asshole. Speaking of the team, we should probably head back soon." 

Unfortunately for us, a few of the girls were lingering in the lobby and not at dinner like we had anticipated. The thought to hide was quickly pushed away when they all turned to look at us. "Where have you two been? We came to get you for dinner, but obviously you weren't there."

I had checked social media a few times just to make sure there wasn't any thing about us since a few people had stopped us for pictures. Thankfully, nothing had been posted yet and if it was the pictures were all innocent so I knew it was safe to make up a little lie. "We just went for a walk."

Emily pulled me into a headlock, normally I could get out of her hold pretty easily, but I was tired and not really in the mood. "Where was my invite? You know you're bestfriend incase you've forgotten."

My eyes rolled automatically, finally managing to push her away, "Em, stop being dramatic. It was a very last minute thing, not some conspiracy to leave you out. You are and will always be my bestfriend."

"Yeah whatever. I don't think you two willingly spending time together without killing each other will ever get old."

"Maybe not, but your comments already are. Now isn't there dinner then team bonding?"

---

The game was almost over when Tierna ended up on the ground due to a miss timed tackle. She didn't get up straight away and I saw red. Before I even fully realised what was happening, my hands were on the chest of the player who took Tierna down, pushing her back multiple times. 

"Are you fucking stupid? You could hav-" 

Arms gripped mine, pulling me back and finally snapped me out it. "Y/n, Y/n stop."

My arms went up in surrender, walking back to Tierna before I could do something stupid again. I knew I had gotten a yellow card, but the only thing that mattered was Tierna. I wanted so badly to hold her hand to comfort her properly, but I knew I couldn't. Instead I squeezed her shoulder gently, relief washing through me when she finally got up. 

Everyone stared at us as Tierna and I walked into the locker room. I knew it was coming, I had just hoped it would be a few of the older ones and not everyone. Christen gave me a pointed look, Alyssa and Alex joining in.  "What the hell was that Y/n?"

I shrugged, avoiding eye contact. I wouldn't say I regretted it because I wasn't sure I did. Though, I had likely disappointed them, something I hated doing. "I lost my temper."

"You never lose your temper Y/n. You don't even lose your temper when I go down and I'm your best friend. Yet you lose your temper when someone you're barely friends with gets tackled." Emily stated, arms crossed. There was no way they would let this go, it was definitely out of character for me. I had always been a calm person, never violent or short tempered. The look Tierna gave me told me she was thinking the same. This was it.

My arm wrapped around Tierna's shoulder, pressing a light kiss to her temple, "Well, become my girlfriend and apparently I will."

"You're what!?! You're fucking with us."

Questions and statements were fired our way, everyone shocked and confused how we were dating given the way we acted. "Shut up." Once everyone was quiet, I spoke again, "Yes we are together. We have been for about 9 months. We kept our same dislike or barely friend act so we could keep it between us for a while. We needed to work out how we worked together after actually not liking each other for a long time. It was nice in our little bubble. And before you ask, no I wasn't not coping with the different room assignments because of it, my routine changed suddenly and my brain didn't like that. That should answer your questions, can I shower now?"

They looked at us in disbelief before I just walked away knowing we would be hit with more questions later. Tierna pecked my lips before going to her own shower, "That was hot. Don't make a habit of it though, you don't need to be getting in trouble. Also thank you for answering all those questions. I do not have the energy right now." 

Before Tierna could actually get into the shower, I grabbed her arm, pulling her back into me. Now that she had taken her shirt off, I finally had the chance to make sure she was truly okay. My hands ran along her sides and up her back before hugging her tightly, "I've never done anything like that before. I just, I saw you go down and I snapped. Seeing you hurt, well it worried me in a way I've never felt before. You sure you're okay?"

"This side of you is adorable. I've never seen you so worried before. I'm okay, I promise. There might be a bruise or two, but I'm okay."

"What can I say? I've never been in love like this before. I always worry about you T, but seeing you down is a whole different type of worry. I love you."

"And I love you."

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #tierna davidson imagine #tierna davidson x reader

[strawurberries]

Rain

Summary: Vash has never experienced rain, but she is how he imagines it to all be.

Authors Note: Wrote this in one sitting, edited (lol not really) in one sitting, and posted this in one sitting. Guys I think I might be on drygs or something? This is scary how did I do this all so quick?

Warnings: Fem!Reader (she/her) pronouns, 3rd person writing.

Rain, as it had been described to him once, felt like feather light kisses upon sun-smothered skin; a relief that only the heavens would offer, and a delight that only the blessed could experience. As a child, Vash had been in awe, hoping that he would be able to one day feel such a thing. He could practically imagine it: the small, cool raindrops that would glide down his forehead, against the curve of his nose and over the corner of his mouth, finding its way over the edge of his chin. He could imagine the softness of his hair after the rain, the smell of wet Earth, and the calming energy that seemed to permeate the very air with its existence. After he wandered the deserts, though, he came to the realization that rain would never come to him, and he would only be able to imagine such an intimate touch by the skies—until the day she kissed the nape of his neck.

It was a hesitant, fluttery thing—as fickle as man’s nature yet as sweet as late night laughter. She had pressed her lips right above a jagged scar, deliciously gentle and faint. The ghost-like affection made him crave more, a thundering in his heart and an uncomfortable feeling blooming in the pit of his belly. With a small giggle, which he didn’t even know he had whispered out, and a vague stammer in his voice, he had asked what she was doing. 

And she, in all her holy-ness, had smiled and responded, “loving you as best I can.”

And this morning, when she had wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed the awkward jut of his spine, just below the back of his neck, she had said the same thing. With that sleepy, barely-awake-but-still-vaugely-there gravelly voice making his ears turn a faint red. He knew she could see that, and he knew that later she’d tease him, and then he’d pout and whine, and they’d laugh—but right now he didn’t want that banter. He wanted to enjoy the silent love that flowed through the warmth of her arms and the slight pain of her chin digging into his back as she stared up at the ceiling, counting spider-webs and the knots within the wooden beams. 

“Morning mayfly,” he tilted his head up as well, one hand squeezing her arm and the other dropping to his side. “How’d ya sleep?”

She hummed and pulled back slightly, “good. You?” A gentle kiss was pressed into the middle of his back, another one below, and one more above. Her nose dragged along his exposed flesh, hot and lightly layered in sweat from the sweltering heat of the day. Like raindrops, she indiscriminately showered him in divinity—a kiss there, a smile here, a squeeze of her arms, or the loving tone of her low, morning-sung humming. 

He hung his head and stared at her intertwined fingers. He wished he could lace his hand with hers; their bodies pressed so close together that every crevice and curve filled with the other's skin, morphing into a set of lovers who ascended beyond themselves, and came to understand each other in such entirety that they were nothing but one. He tapped the knuckle of her left ring finger, feeling the patterns on her flesh, memorizing her down to the atom. “Perfect,” he mumbled, “the best I’ve slept in a while.”

He could feel her grin, another raindrop of love pressed to his side, “good. You needed it.” She loosened her grip and opened her palms up, a silent question. He couldn’t help the bashful, knowing smile that tugged at his lips. Almost hesitantly, as if his touch could break her, he set his palm against hers. They slotted together like it was destined—it was the only thing that made sense anymore. The curl of her fingers and the awkwardly bent angle of his, the dip of her palm giving way for the hills of his. The feeling of being so full, so perfectly complemented, made emotions well up in his chest. His heart tightened and he remembered what he had been told about rain:

“The clouds hold the water until the pressure is so great, so overpowering, that they weep and burst. From the sorrow of the clouds comes the life below. Every horrible experience can be also understood to be a blessing by others. The clouds cry and the flowers drink.”

The love, he felt, would burst out his pores in waves of stuttering conviction and hidden affection that sometimes he, himself, didn’t understand. He could feel the waves of emotion tumbling over his heart and lungs, making his eyes sting with pain and pure adoration for the woman behind him, for the kindness she showed and the patience she held between her teeth.

The pitter patter of rain drumming against the edge of the human conundrum, the human condition, and the human experience. Everyone is so different, yet at their cores, all life requires the same of each other.

“I love you.”

Drip, drip, drip; each raindrop plays a part in a nature-wide symphony of music. The ancient song of life and everything that follows thereafter.

She gripped his hand and pressed her cheek against the rough edge of his shoulder blade. “I love you too.” As gently as the Earth accepted the rain, as the plants drank the water, and as the animals bathed in the heavens—as easily as they had listened to their natural instincts, she had admitted her love. Without doubt, without the pain of the clouds nor the hesitation that Vash showed in every action and movement, she had said the words he so desperately craved. 

He squeezed her hands, no longer knowing where his body began and her’s ended, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I love you.”

A rainstorm of kisses dripped down his spine, “I love you.”

Teardrops fluttered off his eyelashes, dripping onto their intertwined hands. Like rain, the tears slid across flesh and disappeared into the crevices of flesh. “I love you.”

Another raindrop, another smile, another tear, another burning confession.

The storm, it seems, will go on.

#trigun #vash #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun vash #vash x reader #vash stampede #trigun x reader #trigun x you #trigun x y/n #vash x you #vash x y/n #vash the stampede x y/n #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #strawberry writes

[dazed-nymphsss]

AAahhhh more eddie aftercare like where the reader just makes sounds to answer him cause their head space is just not there or whatever, or cuddles and attentionnnn, or shy reader ahh anything eddie plaseeeeeeee. I CRAVE EDDIE FLUFF STUFFFFF.. i just realised i cant make this anonymous for some reason- oh well :)

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞

┕━» eddie x fem!reader

❕warnings❕: mentions of smut, nudity but no smut, fluff fluff fluff, sweet Eddie.

a/n: not quite sure why it would let you do anon, but hey, no shame in this game. She's kind of a shorty but I'm hoping to write something that's more in-depth when I'm up for it.

『•• Eddie with aftercare but a few things are different lol. ••』

Not edited or betaed.

"I don't have to sell my soul, he's already in me" -- i wanna be adored, the stone roses

Eddie knew you. Eddie knew you more than you knew yourself, he knew what made you tick. Like how you would never meet his eye when you were lying, or how your grip would become tighter in his hair right before he would make you cum on his tongue.

He had seen you in the headspace you were in before, and although he wasn't sure what exactly to do most of the time when you were like this, he knew that you needed comfort. Someone to coddle you and clean you up until you regain your mental and physical strength.

Eddie was gentle with you as he lifted you up, hand splayed over your spine as he sat your body up. Your eyes were close to shutting as you looked up at him, muscles feeling like jelly as he gently drifted his hand across your cheeks, pulling away stray hairs that had made it into your mouth.

"You were fucking amazing, baby," he made sure to tell you, "Always so good for me."

You let out a soft whine in response, doing your best to lean into his touch. A soft voice in the back of your mind, shouting, pleading for more.

"More," you would plead, voice hushed and graveled, but Eddie wasn't going to let up.

Eddie was used to this now; the want you had developed for more. But there was no way he would give in, you could barely speak, let alone walk. He knew it was time to call it, much to your dismay.

"No more, sweet girl, you're exhausted, we need to get you cleaned up. You and I can get some water and then we can stay in bed for as long as you want, okay?"

Tears threatened to kiss your eyes at the mention of 'no more', the emotions you were feeling beginning to get overwhelming, and Eddie could tell you were on the edge of some sort of anxiety attack, and he was quick to act.

He scooped you up quickly and brought you to the bathroom, where the warm water of the shower already running. And due to obvious reasons, the two of you were already stripped bare.

You held onto him as tightly as your weakened muscles would let you, wobbling as he stood you up in the shower. Warm water rushed along the skin of your back, running down your spine as you buried your face into his shoulder.

Eddie was gentle as he washed you down, making sure you didn't slip as he cleaned you with an old washcloth, letting you cling to him as you let the water wash away your headspace.

By the end of the shower, you began to felt more yourself, now able to stand without using Eddie as a crutch. He would pass you a towel, wrapping you up snugly before grabbing a towel of his own.

The two of you dried off before Eddie wandered into his bedroom, coming back seconds later, tossing a shirt at your face, making you flich as you giggled at his banter.

"You here, sweetheart?" he asked, glancing up at your as he dried off his legs, watching as you shoved the oversized shirt over your head.

"Yeah, Eds, I'm here," you smiled, giving him a reassuring kiss on the forehead.

Once Eddie was finally dressed and dried, he met you on the bed with two glasses of water that he set on the bedside table. With a few minutes of struggling and flailing limbs, he finally got you comfortable. His back was rested up against the headboard, and you were sideways, legs over the top of his lap, your head resting on his shoulder as he used a hand to tenderly stroke your damp hair.

The muffled sound of his heartbeat was all that could be heard besides the buzzing of the crickets and frogs outside the trailer.

"Thank you," you would hear yourself mutter, breaking the silence.

Eddie glanced down at you, "What for?"

"For everything. You're too good for me," you would say, your own hand beginning to play with the curls of his hair.

"I'm too good for you?" he threw his head back in disbelief.

"Yes!" you argued, "You are, you really are."

"You say that, but you're the one who always looks after me too. You know, when I pull my shit, you're always there to clean up after me. I have no idea what I would do without you."

Your heart fluttered at his confession, "Well, I'm glad we're on the same page, because I don't know what I would do without you either," you smiled, meeting his eyes.

His hand was gentle as he lifted your chin so he could get a better aim at your lips before slowly leaning in, capturing you in a long, passionate kiss.

He held you close in a warm embrace, the smell of old spice, pot, and laundry detergent hinting lightly in the air around you.

In that moment, with every ounce of your being, you knew that there was no place on this planet that you would rather be.

tee hee, I apologize if this isn't what you wanted but I tried. I hope this isn't too much like the first one, and there's a little bit more dialog. Or maybe its the same amount. Idk. I'm tired 🥲.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie my love #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader

[lilacknights]

Obey Me Headcanons: What Your Favorite Demon Brother Says About You (but make it too personal)

ALTERNATE TITLE: I judge you based on your favorite brother but I'm not very good at it

CHARACTERS: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

AUTHOR’S NOTE: As much as I agree with all the other similar headcanons out there, I also want to write my own take on the “what your favorite character says about you” HCs. So I shall be using my very limited knowledge on psychology, personal development, and how to attack people where it hurts.

WARNINGS: (Edited) As the title already states, these HCs might or might not be on a personal level. This is not angst but please read with caution. But please don’t take any of these too seriously. I’m mostly basing on my own analysis of the characters and their representations.

✄ ——————————————————–

LUCIFER:

You’re used to sacrificing. Whether or not you get the recognition for it, you still continue to give and give and give to people.

However, it makes it harder to address your own lack of emotional support because you don’t know how to ask for help.

Do you really favor this character because he’s “dominant” or does it bring you comfort that someone else is taking the lead and you finally get to take a break?

And do you really just want him to eat and sleep well, or are you projecting towards this character as if he was you? Maybe, just maybe, you’re taking care of him the way you would have wanted people to take care of you?

Just in case no one had told you this today: You’re doing great, pal. I promise you won’t lose your value just because you stopped working. You deserve a break, too.

—————————–

MAMMON:

Ah yes, the classic black sheep of the group.

Is it a family thing? Or maybe you’re the forgotten member of your friend group? The one constantly left behind? The one who is only asked out at the last minute because you weren’t really part of the plan and they just needed someone to fill in the spot?

Or maybe you’re the one whose efforts are always thrown under the rug because someone is always better than you.

Like any human being, you have made mistakes throughout your lifetime. Which would be fine if only people would stop focusing on your shortcomings and forgetting about your achievements.

You want to support this man and be there for him when the whole world is against him — because that’s also what you’ve always wanted. To have someone. Someone who would stop looking at you for what you aren’t and start seeing you for what you could be.

—————————–

LEVIATHAN:

Maybe, just maybe, you have a savior complex… but not exactly in a bad way.

It’s more in the “I’ve always felt ashamed of myself but this man doesn’t have to be.” kind of way. This makes you a good person if I do say so myself.

You have your own particular special interest at one or several points of your life but no one ever reciprocated the same excitement you have towards it, making you question whether it was even worth the attention you gave it.

Have you ever had an interest on an instrument, a sport, or maybe something with arts or writing? But because none of those are “real jobs”, you had to let go? Have you been asked something along the lines of “would that be able to pay the bills?” when you tried to introduce an idea to people?

A part of you probably still longs for that encouragement that never came. And so you’re doing it for someone else.

—————————–

SATAN:

How’s the life of the "second best" treating you? /lh

Somewhat similar to those who favor Mammon, you were probably used to having someone else take all the credit for who you are.

Ever had a family member brag about your achievements as if they are the sole reason behind your success? Or maybe you’ve had an older sibling or a senior that everyone thinks is your “inspiration” and it made you feel like your own actions are never your own?

You also probably have a type and that type is a man who does the bare minimum. I don’t know what to tell you but this is most likely the case. (If it’s not, then good for you. /gen)

“He’s not being an asshole towards me and he respects my boundaries and he reads??? Sign me the fuck up.” - You, probably. If I’m wrong, good. But if I’m right, then you and I need to have a proper talk.

—————————–

ASMODEUS:

Your attachment and abandonment issues are showing, bud.

People say that those who favor him are the horny fans but it’s not all there is to it, isn’t it?

Is it possible that you find comfort that this conventionally attractive and well-known individual chose you? Is it possible that, out of all the people he could have had, you’re finally the first choice?

Tell me, how many times were you just an option? How many instances did family, friends or potential lovers didn’t put you first?

Or maybe you’re the introverted little bean in every room that needs someone else to remind you that you’re actually liked. You need that one person to explicitly tell you that “yes, you are wanted.” before your intrusive thoughts take over and make you believe that you’re just a waste of space.

—————————–

BEELZEBUB:

I don’t know what to say except you probably just want to take a break from all the physical, mental, or emotional bullshit going on in your life.

You probably need a hug (preferably against soft tits) and want to live the quiet life with little to no stressors once in a while.

He reminds you of peace and simplicity, and that’s a good thing.

Not sure what you all think but this man is probably the healthiest brother to be biased towards.

I do hope real life for you finally settles down and you get the peace of mind you’ve always wanted. You got this.

—————————–

BELPHEGOR:

Holy shit, you’re fucked up. Are you okay? For real?

Because if Mammon or Satan are kind of the “neglected guy” representation, this one is the forgotten left-in-the-attic version. The difference with this though is that you’ve probably became numb at one point.

Something inside you probably died a long time ago and you just stopped giving a shit. It could be a good thing or a bad thing, mostly depending on your attitude towards it.

You probably weren’t exactly given the biggest responsibilities growing up but, unfortunately, no one expected big things from you because of this — and neither did you.

Also, you’re either a degradee or a degrader. There’s nothing in between. I also believe you’re pretty chill but would be willing to set a building on fire when given enough reason to.

——————————————————– ✄

I haven't written in forever! I do hope you all enjoyed this because I DIDN'T. Asmodeus and Leviathan were basically me attacking myself LMAO — 🌷

#obey me #headcanons obey me #obey me headcanons #om! headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all #✍️.lilac #om! swd #om! shall we date #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor #obey me brothers #om! brothers #obey me mc #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan

[misc-obeyme]

"Tell me the truth." (sfw) For Solomon, in lieu of the 1k event? Glad to see your blog grow, I hope it only continues to grow even bigger in the coming future and you continue to enjoy what you love! You have a great talent for writing and I hope you enjoy these days joyously <3

Hello, anon! Oh my gosh, thank you so much for this sweet message! I am truly enjoying myself and I'm so happy to know that others are enjoying my writing as well!

Okay, listen. This one... I kinda got carried away. I really love Solomon and I think about him a lot, but especially what it must be like to be immortal. So this one kinda ended up being about that. I made myself incredibly sad writing and editing it, though. So be prepared for that, I suppose. I think it turned out good for all that, but just be prepared for ~feelings~!

Thank you for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt "Tell me the truth."

Warnings: Angst. Like I kinda think this one's sad all the way through, even though things are good between Solomon and MC.

Experience will always alter the perception of time. Life can seem to slowly crawl by, long days and longer nights, alone and empty without anything but dreams. It might also rush past, a frantic whirlwind of activity, barely a moment to breathe let alone think. It is a constant ebb and flow, the continual flux of the present and the past, a liquid temperament that causes life to shape and reshape itself like quicksilver.

Solomon had been alive for a long time before you ever made an appearance. His understanding of time was vastly different from any human with a normal life span. He couldn’t possibly remember what it was like to know his own mortality, that he had a finite number of years, that he would eventually meet his end. He couldn’t remember that feeling because it simply wasn’t true for him anymore.

He had times when things ran by, when the days careened past like a runaway train car. They were more likely to creep through his consciousness, though, especially when he was lonely, which was often.

That was why he noticed immediately how his own experience changed after you showed up. At first, it was nothing. You were always busy and he didn’t exactly spend a lot of time with you. But then he found himself more involved, starting with the danger that almost destroyed the three worlds, that almost ended your life. After that he was more aware of you, choosing to watch you from afar. The occupation of it caused time to move by just a little quicker than it used to.

And then you became his apprentice and he found himself spending even more time with you. Every moment seemed important now. He treasured every second he spent by your side, hating the way they tumbled like sand through his fingers while he was powerless to stop them or slow them down.

Solomon had plenty of time, but you didn’t.

He was aware of mortality in a way he hadn’t been since before he became immortal - aware of your mortality.

So of course he noticed when you started spending more time at Purgatory Hall than you normally did. He was hyper aware of every scrap of time he was able to spend with you. Your increased presence was more than obvious to him. It wasn’t just that you were around more, either. He saw it in the way you lingered longer, the way you suddenly chose to walk home with him, the way you asked him about spells that he knew you had already mastered, as if you needed to hear his voice even if it was just to explain something you already knew.

Solomon noticed how you called him more frequently, too. It became a nightly ritual. One day you called after dinner, saying you just felt like talking to him. And then you did it again the next day and the day after that. Solomon began to anticipate your calls. And if you couldn't call, you would text him.

Solomon clung to every word. Everything you said or wrote to him, every time he found you waiting for him, every time he saw your smile. He knew that you had obligations, loyalties to the demon brothers that he wouldn’t be able to penetrate. But even more than that he knew that you simply had a limit on time. And he cherished everything, locking away the memories of you for the inevitable future when they would be all he had left.

Night in the Devildom was dark, despite the stars and the occasional full moon. Existing in this darkness was something he had gotten used to. It was late, but Solomon had insisted on walking you back to the House of Lamentation. Once again you had spent more time at Purgatory Hall than you should have, giving excuse after excuse about why you needed to stay longer, just one more question about magic, a recipe you wanted to share with Luke, a book Satan wanted you to give Simeon. It was like you collected these little things so you could use them to your advantage when you seemed unwilling to go home.

It had been going on for quite some time and Solomon had been content to let it.

But there was something about walking with you in the dark of this Devildom night that caused his heart to stir. You likely couldn’t see much other than his silhouette and to him you were like a shadow, a living breathing shadow walking beside him, but one he couldn’t read. And there was something safe about this state of partial invisibility.

“You really didn’t want to go home tonight, did you?” Solomon asked, keeping his tone light.

You laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess not.”

“That seems to have been happening a lot lately,” Solomon said. “Is everything all right?”

Solomon felt you shift beside him in the darkness as the two of you walked slowly toward the House of Lamentation. As though you had a slight misstep.

“Everything’s fine,” you said, but the tone of your voice indicated that this was a lie.

Solomon stopped walking. After a few more steps you realized he had stopped and turned to look at him. He couldn’t see your expression in the dark.

“MC,” he said. “You can trust me. Tell me the truth.”

Solomon watched as you looked down at your hands, seemingly unable to meet his eyes even though you could barely see them. Your reluctance to speak made him realize he wanted - needed - to see you clearly.

Solomon took your hand and gently pulled you into the light of a nearby street lamp. Your face became fully visible to him and the fear in your eyes stabbed through his heart.

He took your other hand and held them both close. “It’s okay, MC,” he said. “Whatever is going on, I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help you. You’re safe with me.”

The way this made you frown hard, as though you might be fighting back your emotions, made Solomon want to pull you into his embrace, but he waited. Waited to see what you would say, if you would confide in him.

A soft wind kicked up, rustling your hair and clothes, tossing the edges of Solomon’s silver hair into his eyes. He kept his gaze on you, waiting.

Solomon had a lot of time, but you did not. He could wait forever if he had to, but you didn’t have that kind of luxury. He couldn’t begrudge you some moments of reflection, a brief amount of seconds to consider your response, but he knew you couldn’t really know how precious each one of those seconds was to him.

You moved finally, squeezing his hands before looking down at them. He watched the blush that painted your face as you quietly said, “I just want to be with you. I’m happiest when I’m by your side, so I find it hard to leave.”

Solomon felt like his chest was rupturing, filled with a force of feeling he could never hope to articulate. He closed his eyes and pulled you into his arms, unable to resist holding you. “This is what you were afraid to tell me?”

You gripped him hard, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I thought…” but you seemed unable to say what you thought.

Solomon leaned back and made you look at him. “You thought I wouldn’t want you? That I wasn’t already completely lost to you? That I don’t measure the minutes you’re with me like the precious commodity they are? MC, all I could ever want is to be with you.”

Solomon watched the tears brimming in your eyes. He reached out to brush away the one that fell down your cheek.

Solomon moved in and you met him halfway and the feeling of your lips against his was so soft and sweet he almost started crying, too.

Time would inevitably take you away from him. Solomon knew that. And yet for once he was willing to deal with that grief when it happened if it meant he could spend what precious years you had making you as happy as he possibly could. The memory of your face might fade from his mind, but the strength of your love would never fade from his heart. He could hold you there for the rest of eternity, keeping him company through long nights when he would find himself alone and missing you.

For now, Solomon would hold you and kiss you and spend every minute he possibly could in your presence. He would celebrate your life for the fleeting thing it was because despite its brevity, it had forever changed his own endless existence. And in this way, held forever in Solomon’s memory and heart, you would become immortal, too.

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #omswd #misc 1k event #misc writes

[shadow-pixelle]

Braided Fates 1

(Masterpost)

So this is the first part of the DCxDP AU that I've been messing with recently. And by first part I mean that actual first part, of the 'how the hell did we get into this situation' kind. As such, this is only Danny Phantom, since the crossover aspects will show up later on. I'm currently up to... I think four parts of this, and it kinda keeps ballooning so it might just get insane at some point, but hey, new fic project.

Also related, but if you're coming here after reading the later parts of the fic, I made some small edits to post 3, mainly regarding some ghost terms because I discussed it with my sister in the aftermath of the writing, decided I liked this idea better than the current common fanon, and then didn't change it in post 3. So I went back and made the edits to that, and it'll come up in story on time.

Anyway! Welcome to Braided Fates, the actual beginning.

--

The whole thing had started when they were barely eighteen.

Well. Not really. The whole thing had started when they were fourteen and stupid. But now, standing there at eighteen with Sam pressed on one side and Tucker close on the other, Danny couldn’t help but feel like things were really only starting now.

-x-

They were barely eighteen. Only barely. But it was good enough. Eighteen meant they could move away, live alone. It meant that all three of them could get out of Amity Park and go, if they had to. It meant their parents couldn’t stop them.

They’d been planning this for years, now. In some ways, Danny felt like he’d been preparing for it since the day he’d stepped into the Portal and died. He knew Sam and Tucker felt the same, from quiet conversations over PDAs and financial plans. Sam had been quietly stockpiling money from her parents, just in case. They had a dozen go bags hidden in places throughout the town, just in case. Tucker had created identities for them to use, just in case.

Just in case, as if it wasn’t likely. As if there was a chance.

They’d all known there wasn’t one.

They’d had to wait for Tucker’s birthday to pass, with him being the youngest of the three of them. But once it had, they’d been ready. Money piled away, identities ready to go, go bags prepared.

They started with the Fentons. It was the most risky, they thought, but also the most important. Danny had filled Jazz in on the situation, and she’d agreed to help with tears in her eyes. She pulled their parents out of the lab, and once they were gone, Danny has phased Tucker and Sam in. They were in charge of rigging the Portal to shut down if things went bad. Danny was capable of making his own portals, now, so he’d be able to get them out of Amity and into the Ghost Zone to hide. If things went bad, he’d disappear immediately, grab them, and run. They’d deal with the Foley’s and the Mason’s later, if that happened.

When that happened, Danny had secretly thought. He was pretty sure Sam felt the same, though Tucker was hopeful that they’d be on their side. Or at the very least they’d be supportive of the trio’s need to run.

Danny hadn’t thought so, up until he’d dropped Sam and Tucker off and gone upstairs to explain.

He started with the need to leave Amity Park. His parents had understood that easily. Jazz had done the same thing, going to college out of state. His parents didn’t quite get it, really- their lives were studying ghosts, and they didn’t quite get not wanting to do that- but they knew that Jazz had things she wanted to do, and understood that Danny had his own things. That he was terrified of ghosts, and didn’t want to be around them any more. They’d offered immediately to help him look for colleges he could get into with his grades, offered support financially so he could settle down without having to stress too much-

And then Danny had stopped them, and explained why.

“I want to go to school.” He said, quietly. “I can’t do what I want to do, not any more, but I’d like to go to school and do something. But I can’t.”

“Why not, Dann-o?”

“The GIW.” Danny breathed, slowly. It’d been enough time that Sam and Tucker should have things sorted out in the lab. He just had to get through this part, and then run. “The Portal didn’t work at first, remember? It only started working later.”

His mom frowned. “Yes, we never did figure out what caused that…”

“There was a switch on the inside.” Danny told her, taking in their faces for what he thought was the last time. “I wanted to show Sam and Tucker the thing, and Sam wanted a picture. I walked inside for the scale, and I tripped. And it turned on.”

Both his parents looked horrified.

“I’m Phantom.” He said, suddenly calm. “The other ghosts call me a halfa. Half dead and half alive. I’ve been doing what I can to keep the other ghosts from causing trouble here, since this is my territory. But I’m Phantom, and-”

He was cut off by his mom lurching forward, and with a flash of instinctive panic, he went intangible. She looked heartbroken, and Danny nearly fled then and there. He didn’t want to remember the way they’d look when they finally realised they had their target in front of them, and he didn’t want to hurt them, so all there was was to run-

Both of his parents were crying.

“Oh, Danny…” His dad said, none of his normal booming voice at all. He looked like a man about to fall apart, and Danny-

He didn’t know how to deal with that.

The talk had gone on for longer than expected, after that. So much longer that Sam had started blowing up his phone with messages, and he’d had to excuse himself to go and reassure them that he was alright, and that Tucker had been right, they were listening, and they weren’t going to hurt him.

He’d had to come clean about what they’d been doing in the lab after that, but that went alright, too. They’d even agreed, almost immediately, that the Portal needed to be shut down. That they couldn’t let the GIW get their hands on it.

Once everything was settled there, he’d been able to tell the truth about their plans.

“We can’t stay in Amity Park.” He said, once Tucker and Sam were pressed against his sides again. Mom was still holding his hand, reaching across Sam’s lap, and Dad was resting a hand on her shoulder. Jazz looked half way stuck between proud and sobbing. “I’m not safe here, and Tucker and Sam aren’t going to be either. I- don’t know that anyone is going to be safe here, with the GIW. There’s- there’s this thing with ecto contamination called Liminality, it’s being on the edge of death without being dead, and I- We don’t think there’s anyone in town who isn’t a bit Liminal, now. So it’s not going to be safe. But we don’t think we’ll be able to leave, either. Not safely.”

“Danny can’t stop himself from trying to help people.” Sam told them. “It’s something that’s hardwired into his ghost half, we think. But that means that if we move somewhere else, eventually we’ll get found out, because he won’t be able to not help. And then they’ll keep following us.”

“Then… where will you go?”

“The Zone.” Tucker said, easy. “We’ve already set things up, mostly, and we’ve got plans and stuff. Danny can survive there no problem, and Sam and I haven’t ever had any issues with the place, really. And we tested it a bit, a while back, so we’ve got a place where we know we’re gonna be safe. So we’re going to shut the Portal down, and go to the Zone with a different method.”

“All three of you?”

“We’ll talk to our parents after this.” Sam straightened, lifting her chin. “But we are going.”

-x-

And they’d went.

-x-

The conversations with the Foley’s and the Manson’s went just as well, in the end. With Danny’s parents backing them up, both sets of parents had agreed, with tears, but agreed even so. Methods of communication were set up- they had already had some plans for that, mostly for Ellie and for Val who’d both known about the entire thing for years- with the full knowledge that messages both ways were going to be difficult and infrequent, and then they’d started moving.

Danny had gone for their go bags, because a few of them required him to phase them out of walls or floors. Tucker and Sam had stayed behind to answer more questions and gather the last of what they’d need.

It had gone all too quickly, and then Danny was pulling open a portal to the Zone and walking through, both his friends right behind him, leaving their families behind in Amity Park.

-x-

Danny’s Lairs were unusual. One was his own, and the other was claimed from Pariah Dark during the same fight in which Danny had inadvertently won the crown.

Three years, and that still seemed strange, but one day Danny would inherit the entire throne of the Infinite Realms. What they called the Ghost Zone in Amity, because letting the GIW know anything about the true scale of the dimension on the other side of the Portal felt like a recipe for disaster.

The parts he’d claimed from Pariah were slowly shifting, even now, to being more Danny and less Pariah and his horrible taste. That Lair was the castle, the seat of his court to be.

Danny’s own Lair was nestled below and behind that, a near-perfect replica of his house in Amity with the parks of the city surrounding it. Sam and Tucker were only Liminal, so they didn’t have Lairs of their own, but that was where the near part came in; there were rooms added for both of them, as well as extra ones for Ellie and Val in case they ever needed to come to the Realms.

The three of them stood pressed together in the small garden between Danny’s Lair and the castle, bags at their feet, and feeling like things were only really just starting.

#dcxdp #danny phantom #fic writing #my writing #braided fates au #sam manson #tucker foley #good parents jack and maddie fenton

[manlywitch]

ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʷ?

🫎Random bakugou smut... I'm down bad for him... And yanderes...

🫎Type of reader: sub Uke male reader.

🫎Pairing: yandere Bakugou Katsuki X male reader.

🫎Type: (NSFW) smut🔞

🫎Yandere themes

🫎Non-con (I normally don't do this but I was in the mood to write this..)

🫎Prompt: Bakugou finds out you were trying to escape him obviously angering him, now he's taking it out on your insides.

🫎If you feel uncomfortable with these kinda situations/subjects please don't read it, I don't want to make you guys uncomfortable.

🫎Everyone's 18+ in this.

🫎Surprisingly long smut part I'm proud.

🫎Kinks: bondage, overstimulation.

<this is edited since I couldn't stand how bad this story was>

Proofread? : ❌

🦝 ¸,ø¤º°🔞°º¤ø,¸ 🦝

He grabs the head of your cock squeezing down so you can't cum, you whimper as your orgasm gets denied.

The stretch burns, making you feel lightheaded and sick, barely able to hold yourself up if it wasn’t for Katsuki’s strong hands holding your body in place.“I can’t- please - I can’t- s-stop please... ” You babble away, mindless and pathetic, just how Katsuki likes it. This made him fall for you even more. Good job..

Even though you can barely handle it, you have to do this, whether you like it or not. And Katsuki had all the right to do so...He says, because you tried to leave him, you should be ashamed of yourself, right?...

{ You got yourself into this....After all...Why would you think you could leave him? Idiot.♡}

He chuckes, and you feel the vibrations through your body. You whine and choke on the thick air before letting yourself fall onto his chest, engulfed by Katsuki’s protective hug, this is his sign to know that you love him back.

|

He groans as his animalistic pace slows down, so does the grip on one side your hips get loosened up.

He looks at your face, your sobbing as your hands that were previously cut open with a nail when you tried to open the window were tied up to the bedpost. "I'll leave you like this...Then my little boy can't escape...Hm?" You sob as his pace fastens up again making your eyes close wanting this to be over.

You didn't want to receive any kind of pleasure from this freak, his maroon red eyes always glaring at you if you did something 'wrong' or 'bad' in his opinion, this 'bad behavior' then later got handled in this way by using your body as his personal sex toy.

|

He groans as his pace gets sloppy as he looks you in the eyes your <e/c> eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying.

He cramps up as he shoots his load into you, your gummy red walls painted a white colour.

He pulls out of your ass and looks at your crying and shaking form.

He smiles a sickening smile finding joy in you being marked up and in 'pleasure' just because of him.

He smirks as you let out a sigh of relieve happy it's done. Maybe you can even cum now...If he let's go of your cock then..Why can't he let go of your cock? ....

"You really think I was done? How adorable, doll..." he rams his cock back into your ass his cum going deeper into your ass as he fucks your ass hard. His cock thrusts at a painfully hard pace.

It was sickening, you wish you were back home where you would wake up next to your actual boyfriend and go to your job and have a peaceful life.

Now you had to live with this disgusting man, his intentions never seemed pure or good...

You thought by now that your boyfriend must've found another partner and keeps living his life like it was with you...Just like your other family members...Right?

Well...Not exactly...What you didn't know is that there's a crawling space....A great hiding place for bodies..Right?

|

As Katsuki kept fucking into you hard you didn't notice that he was holding a knife...

And he for sure will use it if you don't obey..

You felt a harsh stinging feeling in your arm...

You choked out as more sobs escaped your body, your head constantly hitting the headboard of the bed as Katsuki wasn't holding onto you anymore...

You looked at Katsuki who was glaring at you. " Pay attention to me" he put the knife away and grabbed your hip again.

🦝 ¸,ø¤º°🔞°º¤ø,¸ 🦝

He groans as he came again, his cum squirted out of your ass as it was stuffed full of his white liquid.

|

He pulled out and looked at you.

You layed there, your <s/t> skin littered in purple and red marks, your eyes puffy and lifeless and your hair greasy and messy from the lack of care.

Did I already mention that...Katsuki followed you around the house everywhere and whenever he left he would tie you up? Yeah...No way you were gonna shower around him.

He pulls his hand away from the head of your cock, as soon as he did that your load bursted.

White ropes of cum squirting out of your cock as you moan your eyes closed as you finally have a moment where he isn't touching you.

As soon as you were done and came down from your high he stroked your cheek.

You were annoyed by that antic but couldn't do much since your hands were tied up.

....You wanted to bite off his fucking finger.

He pulled away and looked at you before turning off the light and cuddling onto you.

The sun rised up illuminating your hickey and scar littered body in sunlight.

Katsuki woke up and whispered in your ears.

"Promise me you never leave me? Do you love me now....?"

Did you guys like it? Rate it in the discussion from 1/10 please... I really need tips or something..

This was the first time trying to write a yandere story I hope I did well!

Bye guys, see you in the next story!

#bottom male reader #bakugou x male reader #male yandere x male reader #mha x male reader

[glorified-red]

Autopilot (Damian Wayne x Reader)

summary: After witnessing an event that hit just a little too close to home, you were left at the mercy of your own memories. All the usual tactics Damian knew weren't helping. It's a good thing he had a little helper.

word count: 4,070~

warnings: flashback during a panic attack, disassociation and driving through it, reference to past physical abuse (not specified from who or if it's domestic, it's very vague. But is heavily implied to be from a male), depictions of physical abuse in terms of verbs (punch, kick, hands on body, etc. Nothing more. Aka no bodily harm, just the feeling), and reference to passing out from a panic attack in the past.

Nothing quite like real world events to jerk me out of a writer's block, aye? This is based on a personal experience from just a few days ago so if there is a complaint with this story being too specific, I will ignore it. This fic means a lot to me so please be kind to it. Dont hesitate to let me know what you think of it! For those wondering, yes, I did finish writing that essay. Have not submitted it because I would love to read it and edit it at not 1 am, so that's a task for tomorrow while I dye my hair.

Autopilot — acting or functioning without conscious thought, as a result of routine or habit.

That was one way to describe what was happening. 

From the second you put your helmet back on to the moment your hand closed the front door, you couldn’t pinpoint a single frame in between. The entire world around you was a blur, even as you zipped through Gotham traffic on a busy afternoon. 

Distantly, you knew you should be aware of the wind hitting your skin, especially as it assaulted your jacket with its wispy breath. Each red light and your boots hit asphalt. You should’ve been able to register that feeling shoot up each of your legs, maybe feel the way your body shifted into an upright position.

 But instead, your eyes were blank behind the tinted lens of a bike helmet. 

You didn’t even try to fix it, not yet anyway. Not when there were cars blocking you in from every angle; not when one wrong move—one stuttered breath—could mean your bike jerking into a freefall. 

So you didn’t even try to fight for awareness. If you did, maybe your hands would be gripping the handlebars a little tighter, maybe even twisting the kevlar of your gloves into the grooves until you felt something. You would’ve rubbed your hands down your thighs, dragging the fabric along your skin just enough to force your body into consciousness. 

But you didn’t. 

You just let yourself run on autopilot. 

It was safer that way anyway. Safer than having the worst panic attack of your life while driving at least. You didn’t even want to think about how Damian was going to react when he found out you were driving this far down into your subconscious—on your motorcycle no less. 

He really was going to murder you one of these days. But then again, you had countless retorts ingrained into your repertoire, countless callbacks to days where it wasn’t you in the driver's seat doing this, but the hypocrite himself. 

So you didn’t worry enough about it. You gave it maybe two seconds of thought before you put your helmet on and rolled out of the parking lot. Should you call Damian? Wouldn’t it just be easier for him to pick you up and worry about the bike later? 

Your brain sighed, maybe your body did on instinct, if it did, you wouldn't have known. He was at home—which was barely fifteen minutes away, you could survive that long—waiting for you, it’d worry him too much to get a phone call two hours after you were supposed to be home. 

Somewhere between hues of gray, your legs guided you through the maze of a familiar home. There was a buzz in your ears, like the poor organs were trying desperately to comprehend the noise around you but fell short every time. They were filled with water then dried with cotton only for it to dissipate with water once more: a ferocious cycle that left you a stranger to the greeting happening right before you. 

You shouldered passed . . . something? It didn’t matter. If it did, surely your brain would let you know later . . . right? Then came the mechanical routine of finding a place to bring yourself back. But when every wall looked the same and your boots trudged against the carpet—Damian was so gonna gripe about shoes in the house later—it felt like a losing game. 

So you stuttered to a stop, somewhere. Arguably the worst place because the only tether you had to the outside world was the ground under your boots, which you couldn’t even feel because there was at least an inch of rubber tread between your reality and everyone else's. 

The same buzz hit your ears. Maybe if you tried hard enough, you could blame the disconnect on the inner padding of the helmet stuffed against your head. It’s worked before, it’s not like it’s easy to hear with this thing on, let alone when your brain didn’t even want you to. 

You could start to feel the autopilot wearing thin, the remnants of it dissolving with each passing second you remained idle. You tried to tap each of your fingers against your thumb one at a time to cling to what little autopilot was left. All you got from your body was a single twitch in your thumb. 

A tap, a click, and a slide. All sounds you saw rather than felt or heard yourself. The tinted panel in front of your eyes lifted slowly until your grays turned into greens. You could get lost in that green for eternity and your soul would find contentment. You could find that green from memory, even when your eyes were filled with grays or your body turned blind to it. That green was one you would never lose. 

It came naturally, locking your eyes into his. You could almost laugh at the fact that the last wisp of autopilot was used connecting yourself to him, as if your body had formed a habit you didn’t even know about until now. 

You knew those eyes better than he did himself, even if he’d spent years staring at them before you. It was an easy victory when you traced them in your memories. So you knew each crease of worry that outlined the narrowness they had at the moment, the subtle squint as he tried to reach you. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, he succeeded. 

Your next breath came right before your lungs were punched by reality. The sheer weight of it was enough for you to struggle for air. It was like you were trapped as Atlas once was. But instead of holding the weight on your shoulders, you were crushed underneath all the rubble, having failed to keep everything upright. 

You choked out a sob, hating the way your own breath ricocheted off the helmet back into your skin. You were suffocating. Your hands shot to the offending metal and clawed at each of the safety latches built in. Shaky fingers didn’t have enough dexterity to succeed which only made you gasp harder. 

In an instant, there were skilled hands overtaking your own, practiced enough to succeed where you had failed. 

“—eathe, I’ve got y—”

Newfound peripherals blindsighted you, they were both a blessing and a curse. While the new vision made it easier to protect yourself, the responsibility of having to do so was far too heavy a burden. You wanted to keep living in your tunnel vision and pretending it was safe there. 

You were still suffocating. Air was scarce to come by and when it did travel through you, it scorched your lungs until you considered if air was truly worth the fight if it hurt so much. The same shaky hands grasped for the collar of your jacket, suddenly far too tight against your neck. It was as if the fabric itself was choking you and not Reality. Thready hands were better to imagine than calloused ones. 

You didn’t notice your feet tripping backwards until your back collided with a wall, you didn’t even care, you just wanted this stupid jacket off. Agile hands swifty unlatched everything, unclasping safety mechanics and helped shrug the leather bind off of your skin. 

“—ok, it’s off. Brea—”

The wall was solid; the wall was good; the wall was safe. You let yourself slide all the way down until you hit the floor, your green easily followed. You coughed on an exhale, your inhale having hurt far too badly to finish. 

Your hands settled together behind your neck, fighting to grab at something, might as well protect your pulse points. 

“—off?”

Your gaze struggled to lift up to him without staggering. When it settled back into his calming hue, you choked out a response: “What?” 

Realistically, you exhaled far too much on the word when you received another kick to the chest but you figured he would get the gist. He’s smart. 

“Do you want your boots off?” His hands floated in the space between you both, where your bent legs ended and his crouch began. 

With a tilted comprehension, it took a few breaths—albeit pretty quick ones—for the words to sink in. When they did, you jerked out a nod. Without hesitation, he made quick work of velcro, buckles, and zippers, forcing you to trudge through heightened awareness alone. 

Awareness was always worse than letting your mind shift into sand to pass through fingers with ease, free from the pain those fingers always left. Especially when Reality was combing through sand with a sharp comb, breaking each particle down to the atom. Water couldn’t wash away atoms the same way it could sand. 

Your lungs convulsed again just as your socked feet felt the bite of cold tile, boots long since forgotten. 

“Breathe,” he said simply, telegraphing his movements slowly. “Can I take off your gloves?” 

You liked the safety of where your hands were, but feeling a leather mesh on your neck wasn’t exactly the most comforting feeling.

You jerked your hands out slowly, seeing for yourself just how much you were shaking compared to his steady hands. His movements were slow and deliberate, testing the waters to see how you reacted to his touch on your skin. The second both hands felt air instead of fabric, they retreated back to safety.

“You need to breathe.” 

You shook your head, feeling the muscles under your hands twist along with the motion. “I—” you choked, “I can’t” 

“Yes you can.” Damian shifted from his crouch to sit before you. “You’ve been through this before and you always come out of it, don’t you?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would help somewhat. Another kick to the chest and you were back to scrambling. 

“ ‘t hurts,” you whined. 

“I know it does, but you have to breathe. Breathe with me.” You opened your eyes to look at him through the blur of watery tears. 

That was a mistake. 

Reality was finicky at best. It shifted like the waves in its fluidity, morphing into new forms and combining within itself. Your fingers twitched against your neck. 

Focus on the green. 

But then his hands slowly laid atop your knees, a familiar trick he did every time. Innocent touch, a tethered connection between you two to bring you back to him. The further the attack would go, the more weight he’d put into his palms until your legs unbent without your knowledge. It was an easy way to open your chest cavity to make breathing a little bit easier while making it seem like nothing is changing, especially when your brain is occupied with other things. 

But this time, his hands felt bigger, they felt more calloused, and held more weight in them. You jerked in an inhale. “Sto—stop touching me.” 

Immediately his hands lifted off of you. “Okay, I won’t touch you.” His palms raised in the air so you could see them, an emphasis to his word. “But we’re going to breathe together.” 

Damian waited a single moment for you to register his words, for your eyes to shift from his hands to his eyes, then finally, to his chest. 

“Breathe in.” He exaggerated his chest visually for you to replace touch. Usually there would be some comfort in the way your hand was guided to his sternum, fingers spread out to feel the fabric of his shirt and the way his chest rose with each inhalation, only to fall when he exhaled. Yet this time, his chest would’ve felt different and that thought alone was enough for your breath to stutter. 

“And out.” You envied the way he released his breath so slowly and with so much control where yours was rushed and clunky. 

He praised you all the same. “Good. Again. In,” he breathed in, you followed shortly after, “and out.” 

You fell out of the inhale before he did, your lungs quivering under an invisible hand. Your head hit the wall with a whine. “I can’t.” 

“You can,” he stressed. “I know you can. Try again.” 

You wheezed where he inhaled, you coughed where he exhaled. Your hands sunk from your neck to your chest, gripping on tight to the kevlar.

“That’s it,” he said, just before another set of breaths. You hated this part the most. You could live with the shakiness afterwards, the pain and the burn of your lungs once they finally settled down. You could ignore the feeling of being on edge for hours after, the feeling of fragility, like someone could blow and you’d wither away with the feeble wind. 

But the feeling of true hopelessness that came from this part was always the worst. You couldn’t fathom succeeding at this simple human task, a task that comes mechanically—completely on autopilot. Yet for some reason, it was a monumental task for you. 

Before Damian—and a little bit during—you let yourself get consumed by the darkness. You let the hands squeeze your lungs until your brain fizzled out, the consequences to be dealt with once you woke up. It was far easier than fighting for consciousness, especially when said consciousness was so painful. 

He didn’t like that very much. 

So here you were, clamoring your way through a breathing exercise as if it wasn’t the most painful thing in the world. As if your lungs weren’t burning with rage and your muscles weren’t aching with tension. 

As if you couldn’t feel hands all over your body with each step back into awareness.

As if you couldn’t hear and see things just passed Damian’s silhouette. 

“This isn’t working,” you bite out. Your head had sunk down to face the floor at some point. The carpet was a darker shade of beige than it was a moment ago. Maybe it was your shadow affecting it, but considering everything, you didn’t think so. “I need—” you choked. 

You saw the way Damian’s hands twitched against his pants, fighting to do something to help you. “Tell me what you need.” He tried searching your eyes like before, that tether was one that could bring up to him from just about anywhere. But you were studying the carpet as if it had wronged you on a visceral level. 

You closed your eyes, trying to think past the echoes of an old voice and the remnants of old touch. You were stuck in limbo, caught between two realities that somehow merged in a single moment. Another kick to the chest and your body caved inwards—the same way it had before. 

You could feel your grip on Damian’s reality fading. It was the one you’d prefer any day and it was the one you should be in. Not this one. Yet here you were, taking the hits of hands long in the past. 

But . . .

Damian. 

“When did we meet?” you demanded more so than asked, the words coming in and out with your breaths. 

Despite his shock—and extreme confusion—he didn’t hesitate to answer with a number of years that have passed you by. Questioning you, especially your needs, at this moment wasn’t going to help.

You shook your head, your legs twitching together and back apart, the muscles contracting at random. “What year?” you said, trying to keep your oxygen inside for just a second longer. 

He responded simply, your ears catching the sound with ease. The outside chatter cut down to a buzz. You breathed out a little slower. 

“How?” you breathed in, your inflection cut off just slightly. 

Damian didn’t waver. “We met in high school. I transferred in late and you were assigned as my peer guide to the Academy. You gave me a tour around campus to help figure out my schedule,” he paused, gauging your reaction before adding on just a bit more. “We ended up having a few classes together that year.” 

“How old—” you breathed in, “How old were we?” 

Damian blinked, his eyes shifting to the side as he recalled, probably doing some kind of mental math in his brain. “I started school when I was fourteen. You were probably fourteen or fifteen at the time.” 

You blinked your eyes open, your lungs expanding happily at the information. Realities were disconnecting slowly, each question cutting a strand of fate that had sewed them together. Since neither could coexist, this new information was proof that the voices were just that, the past. Damian didn’t exist in the same era of these voices—these hands—him being here was a testament in it of itself. 

The carpet was tinted just so, but it was enough to make it lighter. 

“What about now?” you asked. 

“What about now?” Damian echoed you, his confusion still prevalent in his voice. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed down the fire. “What year is it?” 

For someone so intelligent, he really was not catching on to what was happening. Knowing him, he was probably scanning your head for a concussion right about now. But he didn’t show it outwardly. As much as he was confused and incredibly concerned, this was helping. So even if he didn’t sign up for trivia night, he’d play along—and he was sure as hell gonna win. 

He responded factually. The math not only aligned, but since it was late into the year, it wasn’t exactly hard to remember. The buzz got even softer than before. You were able to breath out shakily, the intake was sharp in return but the progress was showing. 

“And the date?” 

Your eyes had closed softly, a sense of calm starting to breach through the anxiety. 

Damian’s response immediately shrouded that progress. Suddenly the voice was right next to your ear and a foot was on your chest, constructing any airflow from ever hoping to come to your lips. The same date. A stupid number that just so happened to align, an anniversary, was enough to derail everything. 

Damian’s voice turned to nothing but a buzz, a low rumble with a worried inflection. 

He had asked a question. That much you knew. But your eyes had opened to a shade of dark beige and dreary grays, completely at the mercy of a dissociative state. 

Even your hands lay limp from where they were resting between your knees, your wrists balanced atop the bony joints. You let it happen. You let your breath get squished underneath calloused hands along the back of your neck and a knee to the spine. You let your fingers go numb and your skin go cold as the room around you soured. 

Suddenly it was a different time and a different place entirely. 

Just dark beige and dreary grays. 

The thuds of footsteps were easily drowned out until it was a simple buzz, just a low static rumbling beneath your skin. 

But then your hands lifted at the feeling of fur underneath them. It was soft to the touch, the small fibers splitting away underneath your fingers. The fur shifted, it nosed in-between your pointer and middle finger before sliding down your palm, leaving a slight trail of warmth along your skin. 

Your fingers twitched, the ice around them thawing slowly with each press of warmth until you could interact with it yourself. The fur morphed from a body to a small head that could fit just along your palm. Whiskers pressed into your hand as it was used as a scratching post. A head bump and your palm raised with it, only to slide down the back automatically as if your hand had done it a thousand times before. 

Just along the back and up to the tip of the tail, just for the head to return for more scratches. You felt the tail wrap loosely around your ankle, shifting and swishing, but always remaining against you. 

You scratched at the chin, your chest feeling lighter when the gentle creature tilted their head back to accept more. Reality itself couldn’t deny the creature’s existence, even if they truly wanted your reality to morph into the past. 

Yet here it was, defying Reality, with nothing to say aside from a purr. Your hands touched black and your fingers graced white until you could make out the cat yourself, perched contently between your legs. 

“Alfie,” you sighed out, half out of astonishment and half out of relief. 

“I always seem to find you two together after a hard time,” came Damian’s voice, cutting straight through the static with his deep timbre. “He can help you where I can’t.” 

There was still a shake in your breath, your chest still rising and falling with great difficulty, more than Damian liked. He looked up at you briefly before looking back down at the precious cat, one that only seemed to like a few people on this earth. Even if he liked Damian, it was a hell of a taming. But with you, you two clicked instantly. 

Damian would never forget the day he found you holding Alfred, hugging him close and the content kitten doing nothing but hugging back with its smaller limbs. Alfred’s little head perched on your shoulder, eyes closed in pure bliss. You were swaying slowly, humming in harmony with the soft purrs omitting from the shorthair. 

You were waiting on him, that much he remembered. It was years after you two had met, just shortly after high school graduation and just before Damian started college. That was the blissful moment of limbo where it was just you two hanging out for the summer and getting his apartment together. 

That was the day Damian Wayne fell in love with you. 

So here you were, years later, yet all the same. 

“Alfred gave him to me my senior year,” Damian started. He knew you already knew Alfred’s origin, you were there. But for some reason, exact details of dates were helping you, so he was happy to recall a core memory. “He called it a graduation gift even though the meeting was pure happenstance. He didn’t want to admit the cat reminded him of me, but I knew.” 

You glanced up at Damian and he glanced back. 

He stated the year easily, the fricative consonants adding to his timbre. “That was the year I fell in love with you. I was nineteen. It started with prom night, I should have known what that feeling was by then. But it wasn’t until late summer that I finally realized I could see no other future than one that was beside you.” 

He pointed down at the fuzz ball that was now laying across your crossed legs. “It’s all because of him.” 

Your hands pressed into the fur and massaged the skin underneath gently until the final strand of fate was snapped. You looked into the green, seeing each shade of bright emerald and late spring, eucalyptus and summer leaves. 

You found your voice and it was among his, miles ahead of the distant voices of the past. You said the same year, finding that your consonants blended with his after being around him for so long. Your voices intertwined in some ways and diverged in others. 

“That was the year I fell in love with you.” You responded. “We got bored and decided to paint your bedroom a different color.” You found yourself smiling at the memory, not even thinking twice about how your voice became steady against the mechanics of breath. “We were trying to figure out how to use the paint rollers and you learned the hard way that too much paint was in fact, not, more efficient. You had paint all in your hair after just one swipe.” 

You laughed and Damian found himself smiling at the sound. “I managed to get some on your cheeks,” he recalled.

You nodded. “You did,” a slight chuckle shaking your shoulders. “I got you back though.” 

“Please,” Damian rolled his eyes, “you were covered in far more paint than I was at the end of the night.” 

“Was not!”

Damian hummed in absolute confidence. “As I recall, Alfred gave you a far more disproving look than he gave me.” 

“Because he found me first!” 

Sometime in the near future, you would retell the events that led you to this moment. From witnessing an event that hit just a little too close to home to the police report that followed, you’d tell him everything. 

But for now, you were happy just enjoying the moment with him. 

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@cherry-dropp

@missredrobin

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #robin #robin x reader #robin x you #robin x y/n #dc #dc comics #batfamily #batman #batman comics #dcu #hurt/comfort #emotional whump

[take-everything-you-can]

Yours Or Mine

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: So first let me just say it has been years since I've been inspired to write smut, but alas Eddie Munson has opened the floodgates. This will be the first installment of many to come as a sort of kink exploration series for Eddie and Reader. I just felt like the year anniversary of all of us loving this man would be the perfect time to post this!

I was so nervous to post this but I've had some amazing people in my corner. @astragreenwoode Thank you so much for everything that you do in editing my stories helping them flow effortlessly. I'm blessed to have you.

To the ever-so-lovely ladies @big-ope-vibes, @bimbobaggins69, and @munsonswife for beta reading and making me feel like posting this wasn't going to be the worst idea on the planet and letting me talk through my anxieties and slutty little Eddie thots.

also can't get over this amazing divider by @newlips

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader ( Established relationship)

Word count: 3.9K

Tw: 18+ mdni (if you are underage gtfo this post .... seriously get lost) crude language, f receiving, m receiving, p in v sex unprotected ( pls use protection my people), subby switch if you squint, shower sex, needy Eddie I suppose, slight ball play, some soft dom Eddie

 

College ended up being harsher than you expected, but the full ride for the Cheerleading scholarship the school had given you was more than worth all the trouble you had to keep your grades up. You proudly proved to everyone that the whole ‘all cheerleaders are dumb’ stereotype was just that; an unfounded myth meant to diminish all those involved. After working your ass off throughout High School, you ended up picking one not too far from home. Having to care for your other six siblings alone was enough to drive your parents insane, so the fact that you were willing to make the commute made you an angel in their eyes.

Today ended up being especially exciting for two reasons; cheer practice would be held at your old high school, which also meant you were able to spend time with your beloved metalhead of a boyfriend. Your coach ended up dragging out practice to be longer and harsher than usual with seemingly endless drills and unnecessarily cruel critiques of your performance. It was a punishment for being late. 

Usually, that was something that would’ve set you off, but if you were being totally honest, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You welcomed it as a distraction for why exactly you came to practice so late. It was for a good reason, you swear; Eddie decided to take you on a ‘Side Quest,’ as he put it.

He took you on a small detour; pulling you into the nearest supply closet, out of the crowded hallway, and getting his hands on you as soon as possible. Almost as soon as he closed the door behind you, he used all his strength to pin you against the wood of the door. You giggled as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, leaving a torturously slow trail of pecks and nips up your jaw. He hungrily stopped at your lips, gently tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Eddie. . .” you breathed out, trying your best to compose yourself as he dragged his hand from your cheek to the curve of your cleavage rising and falling with your heartbeat beneath your uniform. “We. . .we can’t do this right now, baby. I’m gonna be late. You’re gonna be late.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the cold contrast of his rings on your bare cleavage made your body break out in goosebumps. His deep brown orbs started to darken as they threatened to pull you in and never let you go. As much as you wanted to just lean in and forget about the rest of the world outside this closet, you mustered all your strength to stop him from going forward. You giggled as you placed a hand on either side of his face, bringing his head up to make your lips touch.

“Later, Sweet Boy. I’ll still be here after practice, okay?” you whispered.

A small groan sounded from the back of Eddie’s throat; an incredibly needy sound as he pressed his forehead against yours. Even as he held onto you and batted his doe-like eyes to hypnotize you into staying, he didn’t go any further. He may be relentless, but he respects you.

“Ya promise?” he whined against your mouth.

You hummed in agreement, blindly dragging your hand around to find him as you hooked your pinkies together. He savored the kiss as long as you let him before you left the small room, wanting to imprint it in your minds to give both of you something to look forward to after you were finished with practice.

Around the time your team finished and made their way to the girl’s locker room, Eddie was fresh out of his latest session with the boys from Hellfire. You were the last one to take a shower as the other girls left, planning on meeting up with Eddie where he usually parked his van just like you did every Friday. But he had other plans today, ones that couldn’t wait any longer. As he watched the remaining members of Hellfire and the other members of your team leave the school parking lot, Eddie snuck back into the building to make sure you kept your earlier promise.

The Dungeon Master shamelessly walked into the girl’s locker room and his eyes locked on you as you were just peeling off the sweat-soaked cheer uniform. Every inch of you was flushed in tone; the bottom of your hair damp and your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat as you let your top fall to the floor. You let out a soft moan as you freed your sticky breasts from the confines of your bra. It was familiar to him; the same one he had thrown into the corner of your bedroom as he relentlessly took you to your peak just a few nights ago.

He debated on just staying there, watching you clean your body, but the twitch in his pants he got just from the sight of you told him otherwise. Eddie craved to get a taste of your salty, flushed skin before you had the chance to wipe yourself clean. He was never able to hold out from touching you for long, no matter how hard he had tried in the past. You were just as magnetic as the day he met you. What was it that people said? ‘Opposites Attract?’

Eddie leaned himself against the set of lockers closest to the showers, crossing his arms against his chest as he cleared his throat to capture your attention.

 You jumped in shock as you let out a quiet squeak. Instinctually, you used your arms to cover your chest as you turned around, not expecting anyone to be in here with you, especially not Eddie. But at the sight of him, you lowered your arms and sighed in relief but you rolled your eyes a bit. He was supposed to be cleaning out his van. He had told you it was trashed by the boys after a gig at The Hideout and said he would make sure the passenger side was clean before letting you ride in it this morning over the phone. He now stood before you, a gleam of awe in his eyes.

“See something you like, Munson?” you laughed out, turning so that you were innocently looking over your shoulder and gave him a little shake of your ass that made your cheer skirt follow.

The smirk on his face deepened and made his dimples stand more prominent on his face; it was a look he reserved just for you. He pushed himself off the lockers and slowly but surely made his way toward you.

“I sure do like what I see. But. . .you look like you could use a hand there, Sweetheart,” he purred, sticking his tongue out slightly between his teeth.

“Oh, really?” you teased, meandering your way over to meet him in the middle. He took your hand in his and allowed him to twirl you like you were waltzing, making the short little skirt that adorned your body send him into a trance. You watched his eyes size you up, trailing down from your head to your feet as you gripped the side of your skirt in frustration. How long was he going to take before holding you up on your promise?

“Yeah. . .what’s that old saying? ‘Reach out to lend a hand. . .not to bend the heart,’ or however the fuck it goes?” Eddie slithers his arms around your waist to pull your bare body flush against his clothed form, tilting his head as he gave your nose a small peck. He teasingly kissed either side of your mouth, before pulling you in to crash them against his.

“Fucking finally,” you thought to yourself; though, the heat in your belly only grew hotter now.

“Would you bend my heart, Eddie?” you whispered against his lips, almost as if telling him a secret.

“I wouldn’t dare, Princess. . .” he muttered back against you. As he made your heart flutter when his hands buried in the roots of your hair, Eddie twisted and turned your body around to bring your ass against his growing bulge. He pushed you against the shower's wall and made you arch your back, rough and gentle all at once.

“Now. . .bending you over, on the other hand. . .” he growled into your ear, sending a shiver straight down to your core as he lifted your skirt to reveal your pussy and ass practically swallowing your panties.

“That’s a whole ‘nother thing,” Eddie finished, giving your bare ass a tender slap that made you whine and jump.

The giggle that leaves you turns into a moan as he unwrapped his hand from your damp hair and tilted your head to mash his lips against yours once more. As he turns you around, the cold tile meets your back. Playing with the hem of his shirt before sliding your hand underneath it, you ghost over the trail of hair that led to the bulge in his pants now throbbing with desire. 

As you walk your fingers up his chest with a feather-light touch, you blindly trail over his tattoos engraved in your memory. You had spent many of your shared hours together tracing over the black lines etched into Eddie’s skin. On your laziest of days together, he used your body as a blank canvas to paint your skin a masterpiece of his own, purples and pinks staining your skin for days to come.

Smirking with mischief, you let your hand travel down to tease his cock by cupping him through his pants ever so slightly.

“. . .fuck,” Eddie stutters out, making you whine as he unlocks your lips. “I need to taste you... .now,” he spoke, his tone dangerously laced with need.

Eddie tugs you to sit on the small bench below the showerhead, lowering himself to his knees as he pulls your skirt and panties down. Gripping each thigh, he jerks you slightly forward to get a better angle before burying his face in between your legs. He kneads the soft meat of your thighs on either side, leaving small bruises in the shape of his fingertips and the tender marks of his teeth. Looking up at you with lust-blown eyes, he waits for your permission to continue, Once you give him the knowing nod of your head, he slows down as he notices just how drenched your pussy really is.

“Mmmm, such a pretty little pussy,” he mutters against you, torturously dragging his mouth everywhere but where you needed him to be.

“Tight, juicy, and all mine. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You gasp as you wait for him to touch you, frantically nodding. But that wasn’t enough; not for him.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs against the skin of your thigh. “I couldn’t hear you, Sweetheart. What did you just say?”

You simultaneously whined and groaned with frustration.

“Yes,” you gasped. “It’s yours, Eddie. It’s your pussy. Now, please, please just fuck me.”

“Such a desperate little slut. I’m right here, baby. ‘M not going anywhere. Not when I have such a tasty little snack on a silver platter right in front of me.”

You want nothing more at that moment than to tell him to shut the hell up and stop playing with his food. But before you can utter a word, he cuts you off by flattening his tongue against you. He licks up your arousal from the bottom of your opening to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves for a little while before wrapping his lips around it. You swear to God that Eddie’s trying to destroy you, to somehow devour your soul as he does the same to your pussy. Everything he does to you drives you crazy; severs your train of thought from its track. All that’s swirling around in your mind is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The sound of his tongue lapping up your slick and sliding through your folds coaxed a moan out of you that echoes off the tiled walls of the locker room. It feeds Eddie’s ego full as he moans against your soaking mound, the vibrations of his hums igniting the fire in you and sending the flames higher and higher. As your legs quiver at the intensity and the coil in your stomach starts to loom, he pushes his hands against your thighs to keep you from slipping off the bench and against the wall. You dig your hands into the roots of his dark curls, earning another hum of appreciation before detaching his lips from you to circle his tongue around your clit again.

Eddie looks up at you with a coy smile and hazy eyes, the mixture of your arousal and his spit dripping down his chin as he latches his mouth around you again. He effortlessly slides his finger in and out of you. The sinful slurping sounds that fill the air send waves of phantom pleasure washing over you. It felt something akin to a dream; déjà vu. You gasp as Eddie slips a second finger into you, the cool metal of his rings bumping against your entrance making your pussy flutter around him at the unexpected contrast.

“Shhiiitt, you’re takin’ my fingers so well, Sweetheart. Can’t wait to have that tight little pussy wrapped around me,” he purred against your clit as he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. He can tell by your breath and the way you tremble beneath his mouth that you’re about to snap. It encouraged him to frantically pick up the pace of his fingers and playfully shake his head back against your clit, bringing you over the edge and sending your body into pure bliss. 

Eddie wasted no time drinking up all that released from you, licking up every drop from between the lips of your pussy to where it was caked on the inside of your thighs. It was ambrosia on his tongue, salty sweat and musk mixed with his spit and your release. He was so glad he decided to stop you from showering when he did; you wouldn’t have ended up tasting nearly as good as you did now.

The fog from your mind started to clear as you come back down to earth again, Your breathing returned to normal again after Eddie lowered your thighs back onto his shoulders. He snuggles himself into the embrace of your legs, leaning his cheek into your palm that traveled down from his hair.

 "Well I'd say you definitely lent a helping hand, but now it's my turn pretty boy." He laughs as he brings his fingers to your mouth, pressing them past your teeth and letting them settle, as you suck your arousal off of him. Moaning through closed eyes basking in the reminder of how Eddie made you feel on top of the world, you were gonna return the favor. 

He had always adored when you would get that look in your eyes after making you cum. Your eyes would get a bit glassy and your lids would draw almost as if fighting sleep. No, you weren't fighting to sleep, you were just turning the cogs trying to figure out how you were going to please your man. You had turned the shower on to the hottest it would go, never reaching past a lukewarm. If Hawkins was one thing it was never efficient.

“ I don’t think it’s very fair that I have to be naked and you get to be fully clothed. I think we need to fix that.” he took a tendril of hair that had fallen into your face and tucked it behind your ear.

“Well if you still have the ability to think straight I don't think I've done my job right princess.”  He pulls the shirt from the nape of his neck up and over his head and tosses it towards the pile you had started on the tile floor. Before he can reach for them you are already lowering yourself to your knees as your hands unbutton his jeans and slip his zipper down slowly looking up at him through your lashes. 

“ Fuck me, man.” It comes out breathy and hitched as you tug his jeans and boxers to his ankles. Watching as his dick springs from the second tug down, smacking his stomach as his precum leaves a mess making your mouth water, a reflex making you bite down so hard on your bottom lip you swear you can taste the metallic trickle of blood. He kicks his pants to the side as he takes a seat on the bench you were on not long ago.

The tile was biting into your knees but you had been through worse trying to suck Eddie off, Skull Rock had a particularly awful patch of prickly trees that Eddie just loves to stand beneath. Looking up at him now he had nothing but love for you in those eyes. 

His breathing hitches as you lick the mess off his stomach, mixing it on your tongue as you let a glob of drool drop to the tip of his dick as you take your hand and rub it along his shaft. The size of him always had your thighs clenching. He was length and girth in all the right places. The thought of him filling you had your arousal dripping onto the tile below you. You lowered your head taking Eddie into your mouth swirling your tongue around his tip and across his slit as he clutched a fist into your hair as you began to bob up and down a perfect rhythm you had found he fell for. 

“ Holy shit, Baby, Just like that, yes fuuuck,  Just like that .” His head was leaned back against the wall, eyes closed as the water from the shower mist  hit his chest rolling down his flexed stomach, cooling the heat that was rising within him. You could see a small thank you on his lips as he held out his breath feeling you take him to his hilt and hearing the sound of your throat gag against him, the vibrations of the moan sending a shiver down his spine. 

You had slipped off of his length and licked down to the sack underneath, hands working along as you found your way. A small whimper from Eddie as you took one of his balls into your mouth and sucked along the skin feeling the weight of his need making you moan and Eddie's grip on your hair tightened. He pulled up off of him with a wet pop, his balls were extremely sensitive. A lesson you learned on a rainy day in May as your boardroom hit rock bottom and Eddie had looked like a god coming out of the shower. Letting the spit fall as your hands continuously worked their way up and down his length. 

“ Come on honey Please.” you let out a giggle, one that made him grip your hair hard,  pulling back until you were face to face with him.

 “ Who's desperate now?” Instead of words, you knew he would make you pay for laughing at his plea. Standing fast as he bent you over again just as he did when you first started this little act except this time he brutally slammed his cock straight into you. A whine ripped through you gasping for air around his moans. They were muffled against your skin bending with you as you found a grip on the wall in front of you as the water made everything around you slick. 

Once your hold was solid his grip on your hips let you know his pace was about to be fast and rough. Slamming into you over and over the sounds of his balls slapping against the arousal that was dripping from you and echoing off the walls. The dirty thoughts of how anyone could walk in at any moment to check and make sure that someone was not in any harm, and would instead find you a moaning mess, getting railed in the best way by the freak of Hawkins High. A freak he was indeed. You look at your wrist and see the light bruises he had left not long ago from some handcuffs and his headboard. This then led you to another thought of how he had used those handcuffs in the hideout one night after a long show, a night where he had promised to lock up for the owner but instead, he had you cuffed to a wall and set up on his amp as he played riffs through your orgasms. He had recorded some little tapes for himself. The breathless gruff in his voice brought you back to now. 

“ You in that pretty little head baby? You keep squeezing the fuck out of me with that tight pussy of yours. What's got, you so bot-thered baby? Come on we got all weekend to fuck those thoughts out. Just let go, baby, just let go. Come on sweet thing.“ 

You can feel him closing in on his climax. The hitch in his pace is a telltale sign. You moan and mewl under him pushing back with more pressure as your own climax begins to build and hit that high. 

“ No words hunny? Dick just that good hmm?” you nod as the coil snaps for the second time. Throwing your head back into his shoulder as you ride out your high.

“ Yes Eddie! God Yes! Always so good to me. Always. So. good. To. Me.” as you gush around him he thrust into you a few more times as the ropes of his pleasure begin to paint your walls. The grunts and moans of his release could make you come again just by the way he grips onto you, making sure that you are glued to him. Every single drop of him sealed within you.

He falls flush to you slipping out with a hiss and turns you in his arms as you both stand wrapped into each other's arms. He kisses your shoulder and the crook of your neck. You squish your face against the flat of his chest and the thick of his arm as you let your eyelids drift closed just reveling in the moment as the water washes over you both. He nudges your ear with his nose as you turn your face up to him he catches your lips in a hungry yet slow kiss, letting his forehead fall to yours.

 “ You know I love you, pretty girl. You know that right?” you hum a satisfied tune into his mouth as you kiss him softly.

 “ I love you more handsome.” he lets out a low laugh.

” Not possible .” bringing your face back to his chest. 

“ Yes possible .”  Then everything goes Dark. You can feel Eddie but you can’t see him. You conclude that a janitor had turned off the lights, thinking everyone had gone home for the night. Not the first time that it had happened and it would probably not be the last.  But thankfully Eddie being Eddie knew exactly how to get you out, another time he would save you, your hero. Your freak, Your love.

#eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #hellcheer #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #fuck me up munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie fluff #soft dom eddie munson

[anasweetlywrites]

“ The Project ” Tony Stark x Female!Reader

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► ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ◄

Warnings :

Good news! I'm able to write again! Bad news : I'm feeling horrible for multiple reasons but at least writing helps...

Angst cuz it's a little based on something I've been through these 5-6? weeks…but hey! You can hope for more parts cuz I can still write fics that are better than the shitty reality I'm living rn

Edits also by me

Tony's rudeness

Tiny amount of fluff (compared to my other fics)

One or two sexual thoughts from reader

Reader likes/drinks coffee

I already warned you about the angst so idk what else to warn you about

Feedback it's appreciated like usually~

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Words without warnings : 1324

“Of all the famous people in this world I have to work with!It really has to be Tony!” I could swear my mad thoughts were so loud that the entire building could hear them while I was making my way down to Tony’s lap…I meant lab! I certainly wanted to say lab…

I greeted a few agents and pretended I had to be at Tony’s lab early when one of them wanted to keep the conversation going, keeping my camera and my agenda close to my chest, my purse brushed against my side.

I was surprised this opportunity came to me, whenever someone tried to get closer to the billionaire and his projects they were shut down and kicked out until he was finished.

There were plenty of men and women who tried to do the same “Two weeks with Tony Stark - life and habits of one of the richest man alive” project but none of them resisted as much as I did…already eight days which may not seem much but it’s better than just twenty minutes…

My way to “live with him” so far it’s simple: I sit at my place , usually close to him , watch him work while he listens to rock on full volume while he drinks between 3 and 8 cups of coffee per day and usually I don’t ask any questions.

From time to time I help his robot grab whatever he asked for and can’t find it and I greet him once I arrive and when I go home.

As usual , I asked the A.I for permission to enter his lab, then I sat down on my little seat not too far away from his workplace. Surprisingly today he wasn’t already in his lab and I wanted to ask the A.I where he was but before I could, I was informed he was at a meeting and I had fresh coffee next to his cup on his work table.

“Thank you…” I said barely above a whisper and started walking with my camera towards the table. I took a picture as a memory and started sipping from my cup.

I couldn’t believe the incredible taste. It was more fancier than I expected and it explained why he never got tired of it.

While sipping ,I started looking at his tools and different buttons. The floating blue screens were turned off so I assumed he had a password or some protection for that too…however surprisingly the sketches for another armor were wide open and on display. So I started getting closer and tried to understand it.

“I thought you might be curious and based on the fact that your cup it’s already almost empty, I assume you enjoyed the coffee too.” I felt his hot breath against my neck as he whispered the words.

“Woah!” I said after I jumped away from his table after I heard Tony’s voice and the cup almost fell from my hand,“Sorry!You scared me!” I moved my free hand on my chest and took a few deep breaths.

“That wasn’t the reaction I expected but it was a possibility. Anyway-” Tony made a gesture with his hands to signal me to move away and I moved back on my seat.

Realizing he's going to do his usual stuff and still nothing new I moved to a better corner of the room and opened my phone. Same shit,different day. I rolled my eyes and started answering the amount of texts and then I started working on editing the pictures I took a few days ago and copied in my phone as well.

“What are you doing there?” Tony asked but I thought he was talking with one of his robots, too busy answering stuff to even look up at him. He called my name a little louder than I expected and I startled looking up at him. “I didn't mean to scare you again…you're on your phone and I could ask the A.I to check it and hack it in less than 30 seconds or you can tell me what you're doing.”

I locked my phone and placed it on my lap,“Answer texts and edit pictures pretty much. You're doing your usual routine so I thought I should take pictures today a little later.” I said and heard and felt my phone buzzing on my lap which made me roll my eyes again.

“Whoever texts you, it seems that he or she annoys you a lot.” Tony chuckled and pointed at the plans on his table with a toll, I couldn't remember what he called it right then.“How about you tell them to leave you alone and help me here for a while?”

“You…you need my help?” I lifted my eyebrows in surprise.

“I need you to pay attention here.”

“Mr. Stark , I enjoy paying attention to your work but it seems like today isn't one of the days where I can actually do more than a few observations and I'm pretty sure you don't want me to come there and chit chat with you while watching you work.To be completely honest,it's a little lonely to only be here as an observer but if that's how's comfortable to you I do it since there are less than 8 days until I have to finish my project and show it to my professors. ” I said it all in one go and let out a big sigh after I finished speaking.

“How the fuck do you feel lonely?” Tony furrowed his eyebrows and stared at a random point in his plans deep in thought,“You know what?I actually don't care.It's a fact that there are 6 days until you leave and you're free to observe and ignore whatever you want for your project. Just stop the annoying notifications will you?” He rolled his eyes , suddenly pissed and started increasing the volume of the music until I could put my phone on silent.

It was weird. For a moment I thought I could see the humanity I was looking for in the billionaire, only for the sole purpose of the project, of course…ok not just for my project but enough with this bullshit!It's not like he can have feelings or whatever. And why did he have to be so rude?

But maybe he just enjoys my presence or maybe he's just annoyed by my notifications like I am… I was so deep in thought staring at him while he worked that I started ignoring my phone again.

“Hot and cold? I'm just living the same story as always. I just try to find their warmth only to be hit with their coldness…and I couldn't even say someone so full of himself could be attractive!”

I was hurt by his behavior and I had nothing notable to add for today except what I saw in the plans and how delicious that coffee tasted and his eyes…

“But his brown eyes are so pretty when they focus on fixing that helmet…yeah maybe just his eyes are pretty and that's it. That's it! From now on that's it.Besides this he's just another narcissist I'm forced to write about!”

I finally managed to stand up after a few minutes of standing there with a numb expression while my thoughts were running inside my head like on a fucking marathon.

I left without saying anything more than a low mumble that I wasn't even sure I parted my lips to say it or it was just in my head, “See you tomorrow, Mr Stark….”

Late at night, after I managed to forget about today's events while watching a movie,I heard my phone's double beeps. While I mentally prepared myself to read that I'm kicked out from this project tooI checked my phone.

Sorry.You would tell me if you felt sad, right? I'm right here,sweetheart…

Tony

#tony x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark angst #avengers angst #tony stark fluff #tony x y/n

[curator-on-ao3]

for the director's cut thing, i would LOVE to hear you talk about the light before dawn! (sorry if you've already done it lol) it's one of my absolute all time favourite pikeuna fics <3

Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Thank you so much, @belannaswlonkderfulworm!! ❤️ That’s so kind of you and deeply meaningful for me. 🥹

To explain: The Light Before Dawn lives in my heart. I started writing that multi-chap during Strange New Worlds’ first season and I think about it often with so much affection. I know fandom wisdom is people don’t like modern AUs, but I wanted to write it anyway. Something about that story just needed to be told.

I began by trying to figure out Una’s secret. I would have liked to have made her in the United States illegally, but then marriage could fix her problem and I didn’t want that pressure on her and Chris’ relationship. I also considered making Una trans, but I don’t feel qualified to write that experience. There was the option of making her a religious or ethnic minority, but then she would hopefully have a community and not be so alone. The idea of genetic engineering correlating to medical device implantation and ableism finally hit me and really resonated.

For Chris, my first idea was that he could be an equine therapist. But that didn’t work out geographically and, once I figured out Una’s secret, I also decided I didn’t want Chris in any kind of medical profession. (That’s why Joseph and Christine are barely in the story.) Making Chris a modern-day peacemaker seemed right.

Once I had the facts straight, the story had one rule — nothing bad could happen during the course of the narrative. This would be a story about emotional recovery from trauma. Even misunderstandings (like the one Una and La’an had) would be in the service of recovery. I feel like that came through, in part because one of the story bookmarks has the note “comfort in words.” I’ll tell you right now that there are times when I’ve had a shitty day, I look at or think about that bookmark and it helps me feel better that my words were able to comfort someone.

All that being said, there was so much I wanted to fit into that story and couldn’t:

I had this idea in my head that when Chris and Vina got divorced, Chris wore brown loafers with tassels to Family Court because he knew Vina hated those shoes … and he felt guilty at doing something so petty, but also free from trying to please her. As Chris made his way down the front steps of the court after the divorce was finalized, he nearly danced on the concrete with the shoes his wife — ex-wife — hated.

Speaking of Vina … there are songs on my fic playlist for Vina, a character who doesn’t even appear except for Chris mentioning her. But I have so many thoughts about Vina’s frustration with Chris, her pain at him pulling away from a life she thought was good. Vina, a financial planner, helps money make more money. She shops at chic stores and pays too much for haircuts. She moved to SoHo after the divorce and doesn’t really enjoy sex with her dates but does it to reassure herself that she’s “normal” and “fun” and “cool” because all of that is so desperately important to her. I hope she snaps out of her need to impress others, I really do, because Vina’s life could be better if she just lived it for herself.

I considered including that in the mornings when Chris’ light didn’t go on that he was at Judge Batel’s place feeling like absolute garbage. But then who discriminated against Una and cost Una her dream? It got too messy so I just left Batel out and I’m glad I did.

I was going to have the kitchen renovation company belong to Hemmer but when the show killed him, I nixed that.

At the last minute, I edited out a part where Una told Chris that when she was little and her parents would drive past the garbage dump, she would get scared they would drop her off there and leave her. But that was just too sad, even in the past.

In the universe of the story, Rukiya 100% lives to be an adult. There is no cygnokemia in New York City. After they read and run around at the park, Joseph and Rukiya go home to Debra and the family plays board games until it’s time for dinner.

In terms of good stuff, I’m really pleased with some of the details in that story — Una’s nail polish bottles, Chris’ Eagle Scout award (the highest award in Boy Scouts), those two discussing leaky scaffolding (a relatable New York City experience), the reveal of what happened to Gabriel Lorca. Also, I know I’m biased, but when Una set the stars at the planetarium to Mojave, California, so she could see what the sky looked like for Chris when he was a child at night, I think that’s so goddamn romantic of her.

I’m less pleased with my decision to have Una’s quick conversation in the mail room be with a nameless neighbor. My original thought was the neighbor could be any one of the Discovery women — Kat Cornwell, Michael Burnham, Phillipa Georgiou, etc. Meh. Then I wrote and deleted a whole section that made clear the neighbor was Christine Chapel. Maybe I should have kept that and removed the fleeting Chapel reference later. I’m not sure.

I stand by the Spirk joke at the end, though.

I also stand by Una not being a model patient. She’s mostly good about things, but she doesn’t always carry her card with her … just like a real person. And I am gleeful that Eagle Scout Mr. Moral Compass Christopher Pike uses the work printer for personal documents because, come on, we all do it.

Oof, I could keep talking about this story but I should stop. Thank you for this absolutely lovely opportunity, @belannaswlonkderfulworm, I’ve enjoyed every second of babbling about my beloved The Light Before Dawn. ❤️

Want more information about a fic I wrote? Send me an ask.

#fanfic director’s cut #i love asks #christopher pike #una chin riley #star trek strange new worlds #pikeuna #pikeuna fanfic #pikeone #pikeone fanfic #thank you thank you thank you #belannaswlonkderfulworm

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

undeniable | porter gage x female! sole survivor

a/n: am i finally back on my bullshit, uploading on a random sunday night? this is different from what i usually write, but hey! im definitely writing something. im too tired to revise or edit this bc its 12 AM, so ill look it over in the morning. just thought i'd post something silly.

♡ based off a modern au where gage and the sole survivor are childhood bestfriends in another life.

For as long as Gage can remember, she’s been a burden. Being nearly five years older than her and her guardian -- or her best friend, as she likes to call him -- he’s always felt inclined to watch over her. He doesn’t know why, he knows he doesn't necessarily need to, but the thought of abandoning her feels wrong. So he tries to find reasons as to why -- was it because they both grew up in terrible conditions together and only had each other? Or was it because he knew the moment he let her dumbass go into the real world alone, she’d somehow get herself killed? 

He shakes his head. Finding a reason was nothing but a waste of time, his mind overworking itself more than it already was. He dumbs it down to simply getting used to the routine of caring for her since they were children. If he fucks up his schedule now, he’d have to go through the trouble of rearranging everything around once again and readjust to his new lifestyle. 

‘Yeah,’ he thinks to himself, unlocking his apartment door, twisting the knob, ‘It’ll be nothing but fucking trouble.’ 

Once he pushes the door open, his boots thumping against the tiled floor of his apartment, he sees her sitting on the couch, distracted by the show playing on the television. His eyes darted over to the coffee table in front of her, papers and open textbooks strewn across the poor thing, obviously untouched and just displayed prettily to mimic the idea that she was being productive. 

With a low grumble, he tosses his bag on the counter nearby and takes off his boots before grabbing the remote lying on the couch. She’s so invested in her little show that she barely even notices him walking in with a scowl and an annoyed sigh. Sole jumps when the television shuts off suddenly, a gasp leaving her lips before turning her head to the side. 

“Hey, I was watching!” she whines, already rising from the couch to pick another fight with him. He doesn’t show any reaction and instead, crosses his arms with an unimpressed expression while he holds the remote hostage. 

She tries her best to grab it from his hand but he rolls his eyes, gently pushing her back down onto the couch. 

“Quit watchin’ and start studyin’. Yer not gonna get shit done like this.” 

She huffs angrily, her eyes narrowing at him, “Gage, a little break wouldn’t hurt every once in a while.” 

“And what have you accomplished since I left for work this afternoon?” 

Sole swallows nervously, her mouth going dry at his questions as she opens and closes it, trying her best to stand her ground. He raises a brow, giving her a chance to respond and redeem herself, but he already knows. She was a fool for thinking she could get away with such a lie, knowing that Gage knew her better than anyone else.

“Thought so,” he stuffed the remote in the back of his pocket, “Now be a good girl and finish yer damn work. I’m not paying yer tuition for you to fuck around.” 

Sole groans but listens obediently, pulling the coffee table closer to her. She grabs her laptop and unlocks it, opening her notes before reaching over to snatch one of her textbooks. 

“I don’t understand why you’re on my ass about my studies so much, Gage,” she complains, highlighting something in her book a bit roughly, “You didn't even finish high school, so why does it even matter?” 

He doesn’t spare her much of an answer, walking over to the kitchen to find something to cook for them, “Exactly my point. You wanna be better than me.”  

“But you make so much money, you’re able to provide for both of us!” she throws her hands in the air, desperately trying to prove a point to her stubborn roommate, who seemed to be firm on his words.

“That’s only because I got connections. Now shut your mouth and study.” 

He doesn’t find much in the fridge nor the cabinets, silently setting a reminder in his mind to do a grocery run first thing tomorrow before work. Eventually, he decides to heat up some leftovers they had for lunch and cut up some fruit for her to snack on while she did her work. It’s shit, he knows, but it’ll do till tomorrow. 

He makes his way back to the living room, plopping on the couch next to her and setting the food on the coffee table, maintaining a good distance between their dinner and her work. The last thing he wanted was to spill anything on her laptop and notes -- it would only give her another reason not to be productive. 

He doesn’t say much, but his eyes flicker over to her for a moment, a small smile on his face at the sight of her seemingly focused on her work now, a sense of satisfaction overcoming him. Gage leans back on the couch, pulling his phone out to distract himself while he kept her company in the living room. He takes a few bites of his portion of the leftovers, glancing at Sole here and there to ensure she was still on track. 

It’s a peaceful few minutes, he can’t recall how long, as they both sit in silence, her music playing softly in the background to fill up the white noise. Suddenly, he hears a sigh, sounding a bit defeated, and his eyes set on her sulking figure. 

“Gage, I know that you want the best for me, but I’m nearly twenty-three and you still treat me like a kid.” he stares at her, not showing any reaction but notices how she refused to make eye contact with him, her eyes glued to the screen of her laptop. 

When she doesn’t get a response, she closes her eyes before turning her body towards him, her expression serious, but he can see right through her. She’s pleading, but not in an annoying bratty way like she usually does, so he decides to listen to her troubles. 

She scoots closer to him and he watches, his phone long forgotten in his hand, “I’m really grateful for you and all that, but you need to trust that I can do well in school and balance my time. You can’t take care of me forever.” 

Instead of getting a response like she’d hope for, she was met with the usual silence he often provided her when she tried to set her boundaries. With an irate expression, she turned back to her laptop, her face flushed in embarrassment, feeling like her words vanished into thin air. 

She should’ve known better than to talk to Gage — he was a man of few words and she didn’t know why she expected him to at least say something to show that he at least cared about her feelings one way or the other.

Before she could continue studying to hide her embarrassment and anger, she hears his voice and freezes. 

“I know.” his voice is gravelly, a bit of exhaustion mixed into it, and her head shoots to him, a bit stunned at his broken silence. Her eyes are wide, body paralyzed at the sudden response. There’s a slight flush on his face but she convinces herself it’s the lighting. 

Definitely. 

He knows she’s waiting for more than just that and he sighs, crossing his arms as he makes eye contact with her the best he can without losing his shit, “Just want you to have a good future. Want you to live a better life than what I’m giving you right now before I send you off.” 

Suddenly, she’s overcome with guilt and she immediately leans over to him, her hands finding his as she cuts him off, “No, that’s not what I meant!”

With another breath, she composes herself before speaking. 

“Gage, you’ve given me everything I’ve wanted and needed, the last thing I’ll ever do is criticize your care for me. I don’t plan on leaving your side, even when I get a better life.” 

His heart twinges and his feelings for her resurface, but he pushes it down. 

She pulls on the sleeves of his hoodie, playing with the fabric with her fingers, “I just want you to trust me more. I know I’ve been slacking a bit, but I’d never fail school, especially when I know you’re working hard to provide for both of us and paying for my tuition. I’d never do that to you.”

“Wouldn’t say I’m working hard,” he downplays it, not wanting her to fret about such a miniscule matter. 

She groans, “You work twelve hour shifts everyday. Sometimes fourteen!”

He shrugs nonchalantly and Sole pouts at his stubbornness, smacking his arm with annoyance. Gage bites back a smirk, amused by her behavior and catches her wrist midair, her eyes rolling. Instead of providing her with a response, he digs in his pocket and hands her the remote to the TV and her eyes light up, a smile forming on her pretty face. His heart aches at the sight. It was such a small action but it was more than enough to validate her feelings. 

“Thank you, you’re the best!” she jumped over, throwing her arms around his neck as she embraced him tightly. 

His face flushed heavily and tried to seem annoyed to cover it up but the stutter in his voice and the tenseness of his shoulders gave it away. Gage pushed her away with his hand as he groaned quietly, “I get it, don’t need to be so damn happy about it.” 

However, she pecked his cheek and he froze instantly, his body paralyzed and his voice raising in embarrassment, “Q-Quit it!”

She giggles and doesn’t take much offense to his words, knowing that he was nothing but a big softie for her. As she released him, she smiled at him happily once more before turning to the TV and putting her show back on. 

Gage rubbed the spot where she kissed, his face a deep red as he tried to regain his composure. Suddenly, he pushes down the real reason of why he refused to leave her side for the millionth time, reminding himself that there were several other possibilities other than that. 

‘What a damn burden,’ he thinks to himself, desperately trying to fight back his feelings for her, his eyes glued to her gleeful form next to him. 

Suddenly, her kiss lingered on his skin a little too long, the feeling of her arms around him marking his skin, and he’s left absolutely horrified, realizing that he could no longer convince himself otherwise. 

Maybe accepting it was better than constantly running and Gage thinks it over for a moment but ultimately shakes his head, wanting to do anything but that. 

‘Just a stupid thought. Some stupid fucking feelings,’ he settles for that answer but knows deep down that he’s already lost the battle, his heart hammering in his chest. 

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions react #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 reacts #fallout fanfiction #fallout reacts #fallout reactions #fallout 4 x reader #fallout x reader #porter gage/sole survivor #porter gage x sole survivor #gage x reader #porter gage x reader #one shot #slight angst? #fluff #female sole survivor #female sole #fallout+4+companions+reaction #drabble

[skelecentral]

Day 14 of Bad Sansuary (hosted by @owl-bones!): Tears

WC: 1230

(A/N: I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to draw for today’s prompt, so I wrote something instead! It was a lot of fun :) That being said, please keep in mind I haven’t tried to write a fanfic since I was 15 (I really enjoy writing in general, but I tend to err on the side of nonfiction) and I didn’t have a whole lot of time to edit. Disclaimer aside, please enjoy!)

~~~~~*~*~*~~~~~

Dust hadn’t intended to overhear you. By all accounts, he shouldn’t have. He rarely walked by your room, having no reason to tread down a hall so distant from his own quarters — aside from heading to the kitchen and dining hall, where you always arrived before him, talking to Axe and eagerly waiting for the rest of the gang to arrive so you could dig into your serving. He couldn’t blame you, of course; Axe’s cooking was delectable. He’d worked hard to fix his relationship with food since being taken in by Nightmare, and his culinary skills had flourished, the result of his efforts brimming with flavor and healing intent. Though, he felt the dishes were always best when you helped to make them.

He was headed to dinner then, scrolling on his phone and letting out a lighthearted huff of air at the boundless fruits of the internet, when he first heard you. He caught a muffled group of sniffles and barely audible cries originating from beyond your door, and instinctively paused five paces away, listening further and holding his breath so he wouldn’t alert you to his presence. In his stillness, your quiet sobs became clearer and remained undeterred.

He didn’t know what to do then, frozen in his place and stuck listening. He was never any good at handling emotional situations, especially like this one, where he knew his job was to approach and soothe. The other residents of the castle were far better suited for work like this; even Killer, who was more than a bit selfish, seemed to be able to consistently cheer a downtrodden friend. Half of the times he recalled trying to comfort someone, the person ended up more distressed than when he first arrived. Perhaps it was for this reason, among a bounty of others, he avoided the role of counselor.

He quietly started back forward.

He’d never heard you cry before, and something about the sound made him ache. He wanted to fix it. You weren’t as close to him as you were to the others, though, he reasoned, so it made more sense to call upon one of them to help you. He continued to listen to your sniffling as he made it past your door. You might be embarrassed to know he heard you, after all — he should leave you be. The door now four paces behind him, he could still just hear your deadened weeping. He wondered what you were crying about.

Groaning at his stubborn soul and lack of conviction, he doubled back and gave a courtesy knock at your door. Your crying didn’t stop.

“it’s dust. i’m coming in.” He shortcutted just beyond the entryway to your space, prepared to ignore a protest, a welcome, or any words from you that never came.

The lights were off and the lone window by the head of your bed had curtains drawn over it, enveloping the room in a thick cocoon of darkness. Your bed was a mess, sheets barely hanging onto the mattress and mostly crumpled, depressed, on the floor. The dirty laundry and other clothes strewn about the carpet was accompanied by a large amount of trash — mostly empty food wrappers — and foul-smelling air. Subconsciously, his nose scrunched. By the standards of his own room the mess wouldn’t have been bad, lacking a trash tornado and all, but he was pretty sure your floor was usually more visible than it was.

He noticed you curled into a small ball in the far left corner of the chamber, face in knees and arms wrapped tightly around legs in a poor parody of a hug. You hadn’t even bothered to look up when he came in, or to stop quietly crying — you just closed into yourself more tightly. After some hesitance, he said your name. Yet again, there was no indication you’d even heard him.

He sighed. Awkwardly avoiding trash and clothes, he crossed the room to your darkened crevice, and slumped quietly against the wall to your right. Another short bout of teary silence ensued.

“...so…” he rubbed the back of his cervical vertebrae. “your room doesn’t look too good.” Your eyes didn’t come to meet his with a watery glare like he’d hoped. Instead, you remained still, almost statuesque if it weren’t for your bouncing shoulders.

Fuck. He held back another sigh and stared down at his slippers, playing with his gloved phalanges. He could never think of the right thing to say, and you’d never know how bad he felt if he were to make your situation worse. Frustrated with his own ineptness and the tension in the air, he wracked his brain for another set of words to spew — a collection that might actually help.

In the end, he decided to take a gamble. Grunting quietly, he mustered his nerve.

“...what's wrong?” Cringing internally at the fear he’d taken a poor risk, he focused his sights back on you. He wrung his hands as he stared. There was silence for what felt like several minutes, long enough he was tempted to physically smack himself for prying and begin wracking his brain for something else to say.

“I-” your voice cracked as you tried to answer him, your vocal chords swollen from your weeping. He snapped to attention, thoughts quieting as something finally changed. “I — just —” your upset turned from hoarse whispers to broken words as you unwrapped your arms from your knees and encircled them forcefully around his middle. He was stilled at the embrace as you squeezed his ribs and cried into his jacket, still trying to babble out an answer to his stupid question. Slowly, uncertainly, he wrapped his own arms around your midsection, firmly holding you to his chest.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.” Your failed words warped into loud sobs as you stopped trying to vocalize what had happened. It was all too much — too painful — that he understood. He rubbed your back slowly, gently, softly saying your name. “it’s okay,” he whispered, “everything’s gonna be okay. i’m right here.” He regurgitated the sentiments he’d heard the others use when comforting children and victims as you let it out, pawing circles on your back, though he wished he had something of his own to offer. He was sure he’d come up with the perfect words later in bed that night when it was far too late, but that was neither here nor there — whatever you needed, he would give, even if it wasn’t his.

His soft words persisted with a soothing rumble in his chest until, slowly, your downpour turned back to a drizzle and then to less than a drop, your exhausted form slumping against him as your fists stopped clinging to his jacket quite so tightly. He didn’t know for how long you’d been crying before he’d arrived, but seeing your fatigued state made him think it was quite a while.

Gradually, a small time after you’d gone quiet, you tilted your head up to his, gaze still downwards and refusing to make eye contact. Your eyes were gleaming and puffy, your face wet, and your cheeks and ears warm — even like this, he thought, you were striking.

“...Thank you,” you whispered. Dust brought his hand up to the top of your head and trailed it lightly down to the shell of your ear.

“...anytime.”

#mywriting #one-shots #one shot #sans #dust #dust sans #sans x reader #sans x y/n #sansnomaly #dust x reader #hurt-to-comfort #??? #idk I’ve never had to tag a fic before 😭😭😭 #no beta we die like men #there’s one I can use!

[lonesome-witching]

I'll Hold You

Thank you for the prompt @zoomcleric. The one bed trope is always a classic. I hope you like it. I really tried my best but I did write this on a minimal amount of sleep and without actual editing. So, let me know if this is not what you were looking for and I'll try again.

Prompts can always be send to my asks. There currently is a bit of a waiting list but I try to write every prompt that is send my way.

“Shit.” Robin sighed as she dropped her bags in the room. “You can switch with Steve if you want.” 

“And share a room with my ex boyfriend? I don’t think so.” 

“But Nance, there is only one bed.” 

“I don’t mind it much. It’s a small price to pay for your company.” Nancy walked around the room, as if she was inspecting something. 

“I really don’t want to make it awkward between us.” Robin stared at her friend’s back. 

“Why would it be awkward?” But Nancy’s shoulders tensed as she said it. She was aware of why it would be awkward to share a bed. It wasn’t so much that Robin had told her she was gay. Nancy was just perceptive and well, Robin wasn’t entirely great at hiding things. 

“You know why.” 

Nancy turned around on her heels. “Robin, the other alternatives are both of my ex boyfriends. And like I said, I like your company. Essentially it’s not that different from you sharing a bed with Steve.” 

“Yeah but Steve and I are just friends.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Nancy laughed. “Aren’t we friends? Or…” She took a step forward. 

“Of course we are friends. I didn’t mean it like that. You know me, not the best with words. Sometimes they just slip out before I can think them through.” 

“Robin, I’m fine with sharing a bed with you. It doesn’t have to be weird or anything.” 

“Okay.” 

–

They had left the curtains open. It was better to have that slight bit of moonlight. The darkness was overrated. Robin was laying on her side, watching Nancy’s chest rise and fall. She knew she shouldn’t but she couldn’t help herself. It hypnotized her. Nancy’s eyes had been closed when Robin first turned her way, it was the only reason she allowed herself the privilege of staring at the girl. By broad daylight she’d never. 

“You should be sleeping.” 

Robin jumped at the sound of the voice, falling off the bed. “Shit.” 

Nancy poked her head over the edge, appearing in Robin’s line of sight. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Robin sat on her knees, ready to crawl back into bed. 

“I thought you knew I was awake, you were staring at me.” There was a blush on Nancy’s cheeks as she spoke. 

“I- I was daydreaming.” 

“We should go to sleep.” Nancy refrained herself from saying the word “again”. Neither of them had been sleeping and they both knew it. 

“I can’t. I- I’m a weird sleeper and the last thing I want is to kick you in my sleep.” 

“It’s okay. You need the rest.” 

“So do you.” 

Nancy coughed softly, clearing her throat. “Come here.” 

“What?” 

“Come over here.” 

Robin could feel the other girl pull at her shirt. She barely dared to look at her. But she was unable to refuse Nancy anything, so she slowly slid herself closer to Nancy. It almost felt too good to be this close to her. 

Nancy pulled Robin even closer, putting her arms over the girl’s waist. “I’ll hold you down, this way you won’t be able to kick me if you wanted to.” She said as she tangled their legs together. 

“Nancy?” 

“Yes?” 

“What are you doing?” Robin could feel Nancy’s nose stroking the skin of her neck. 

“Trying to sleep. You should too.” 

Somehow it was worse in the morning. Nancy holding her tightly, the sunlight illuminating her body and her hair covering both of their faces. Nancy’s lips were pressed against her cheek. 

“Nance? Are you awake?” Robin whispered softly. But the moment the words left her mouth Nancy pulled away. 

“Sorry, I just didn’t want to move while you were sleeping.” 

“It’s okay. Did you sleep well?” 

Nancy nodded. 

“Are you okay?” Robin wanted to reach out, stroke the girl’s back, pull her back on top of her. 

“I’m fine.” And with that Nancy was getting off the bed. 

“I slept really well. You being on top of me feels great.” 

They both turned bright red. “What?” Nancy asked with wide eyes. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Are you sure? Because if you were into me, you know you could tell me, right?” Nancy sat back down on the bed, her eyes focussed on a spot next to Robin’s face. 

“Could I?” 

“Of course.” 

“Good, nice, great.” 

Nancy smiled softly. “So you’ll tell me?” 

“What?” 

“If you ever get feelings for me.”

Robin nodded, her mouth dry. 

“In that case, it was nice sharing a bed with you, Robin. We should do it again sometime.”

#prompts #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance fic